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SKETCHES OF PARISIAN SOCIETY, POLITICS, & LITERATURE. Paris, September, 18, 1826.

SUCH is the singular character of the French people, that odious imputations produce little or no effect among us. If a man is said to be a robber or a murderer, such an accusation, far from amusing, excites painful feelings in the person who hears it. The serious nature of such a charge renders it doubtful, and if it be proved, the impression it produces is only the more disagreeable. What, indeed, can be more revolting than the ideas excited by

atrocious crimes?

If you wish to ruin your enemy in France, do not accuse him of having robbed the unfortunate Greeks of ten thousand pounds, or of having become the heir of a wealthy man with whom he travelled in Switzerland, and who, on the eve of his departure placed all his property in the hands of his travelling companion. The surer way of ruining a man is to render him ridiculous. The more light and frivolous the accusation brought against him, the greater is its effect; for in France we do not like to have our indignation too violently excited. M. Dupin, the celebrated advocate, held in his hand one of the tassels of the canopy in the procession of the Jesuits at St. Acheuil. This ridiculous adventure of the liberal advocate, who has been so much noticed by the Constitutionnel, will be laughed at for twenty years to come. Had the enemies of M. Dupin accused him, justly or unjustly, of any great crime,

it might be attached to a firm broad band, encircling the person, and as a tight ligature, impeding respiration, becomes intolerable at great elevations, the band should be free and easy, and may be rendered secure from falling, by crossing belts over the shoulder. These precautions would have the advantage of ensuring the wearer's safety, of making her feel secure and at ease, to enjoy the scenery, and of lessening the anxiety of attendant friends. In crossing tracts of snow, a veil is useful; but a better thing, by far, is a mask. Those of wire gauze, seem very good. Blue spectacles would be found invaluable; better far, we apprehend, than even the wire-gauze preservers for the eyes.

With respect to the ascent of Mont Blanc, the writer will, at all times, be happy to render any the slightest assistance to those who may be disposed to the attempt. At the same time, he must honestly avow, that as a mere ramble to gratify curiosity, the excursion deserves no credit, and perhaps is barely justifiable. The danger to the traveller is by no means so great as to the guides; these are generally married men, and in case of accident, what pecuniary relief could compensate the bereavement or soften the bitterness of the retrospect? We felt this strongly, on going down to worthy Simeon's cottage, one fine evening, after our descent. His young wife came out to show us his smiling infant, and to bring us a bowl of fresh goat-milk, at the same time strongly expressing the anxiety which she bad suffered during our absence. I should greatly hesitate before asking a married man to join in such an expedition again.

Should the interests of science require an ascent, then the matter is wholly altered. Any young man, of ordinary health and vigour, may accomplish it. I should think it well worth investigation whether there may not be found a passage east of the Rocher Rouge. If it should be so, then both the labour and the danger will be so diminished, that by erecting stations at intervals, and throwing pines over some of the chasms, the summit of Europe may, at length, be rendered easily accessible.

We would again caution the inexperienced traveller against the use of spirituous liquids, at any rate until his wine is frozen. Vin ordinaire forms the best common drink in the ascent.

One other remark, which may not be uninteresting. Of our guides, Marie Contet is excellent; Julien Devouassou, very good; Pierre Tairraz le jeune, a noble fellow; but, for mingled kindness, gentleness, attention, and courage, Simeon Devouassou is really superior, and admirably suited to attend an invalid.

the affair would have been forgotten at the expiration of six months. What crimes did not the court party impute to the famous Mirabeau, before they succeeded in buying him over, in the year 1791. The most serious charges, of which personal cowardice was one, made not the least impression on the French public. But if the court party could have rendered Mirabeau ridicu lous, they needed not have been at the pains of buying him over. Instead of being admired, he would have been laughed at when he rose to speak in the assembly which then swayed the destiny of France, and was preparing the fate of the whole world.

The greatest literary event of the eighteenth century, was the success of the Memoires of Beaumarchais, a private individual, who received from his father, a watchmaker, the fantastic name of Caron. An absolute king dissolved the Cour de Justice of Paris, called the parliament, and substituted a new Cour de Justice in its stead. Three hundred families of wealth and distinction were humbled and ruined by the appointment of the new Cour de Justice. These families exerted every endeavour to throw odium on the new Court of Justice; but their furious outcries produced no effect on public opinion. Beaumarchais, a private individual, was accused of having offered fifteen louis to the wife of M. Goesmann, one of the new judges, for the purpose of obtaining an audience of her husband. The story was probably true, and Beaumarchais wanted to bribe the judge. But to justify himself he published his admirable Memoires, which, for six months made the public laugh at the expense of the new Court of Justice; and the king, whose power was at that time quite absolute, was obliged to dismiss the new court, and recal the old parliament. Were I to imitate the example of some of your literary reviews, instead of referring in a few words to the history of Beaumarchais and Mirabeau, I should fill half a dozen pages with their Memoires. But I have some mercy on my reader, and should be sorry to have applied to me the observation of Montesquieu, who, alluding to the laboured prolixity of certain writers, and the unnecessary trouble they give to their unfortunate readers, says:-"Le lecteur se tue à abréger ce que l'auteur se tue à alonger."

The disputes or discussions relative to the re-establishment of those good fathers, the disciples of St. Ignatius of Loyola, which have so often made us yawn, are now beginning to make us laugh. Letters received by persons in Paris from their friends at Amiens, state that the procession of the vow of Louis the Thirteenth, has been the occasion of considerable merriment; and that the same Jesuits who duped M. Dupin, at St. Acheuil, have played a trick upon the Cour Royale of Amiens. Only imagine the secret satisfaction enjoyed by a sarcastic people like the French, at seeing an illustrious body, whom they are accustomed to respect and even to fear, publicly duped in a manner which admits of no excuse. Last year there was a mission at Amiens, and the Cour Royale positively refused to join the procession of the missionaries, (or Jesuits, which is the same thing,) who were going to fix up a cross. year the Jesuits convoked the Cour Royale to attend the procession of the vow of Louis the Thirteenth.* On the same day, and at the same hour when Charles the Tenth was carrying the statue of the Virgin in his arms to Notre Dame, the Cour Royale of Amiens was playing as ludicrous a part. The procession, of which this Court formed a portion, had no sooner left the church, than the good counsellors of Amiens discovered to their great mortification that they were departing further and further from the usual road. They should immediately have quitted the procession and returned to the church, but their presence

This

In one of his eccentric fits, Louis the Thirteenth, who was somewhat crazy, took it into his head to place the kingdom of France under the protection of the Holy Virgin, and the object of the above-mentioned procession was to pay court to the Virgin. Charles X. this year presented a silver statue of the Virgin to the church of Notre Dame, in Paris.

of mind forsook them, and in sad perplexity they continued to advance. The procession was led by the Abbé Guyon, one of the most artful and trickish of the Jesuits, and whither did he conduct the unfortunate Cour Royale that, only a year before, had refused to attend the ceremony of fixing up the cross of the mission?-Precisely in front of that same cross! Here the Abbé Guyon, to complete his own triumph, and to enjoy the embarrassment, and what has been termed here, the false position of the Cour Royale, began to deliver a speech, a thing never done on similar occasions. During this mystification, the bystanders were at a loss to guess what the members of the court intended to do, whether they would withdraw or stay and hear the speech. You must know that as judges are immoveable in France, they may, if they possess any degree of spirit, safely brave the power of the disciples of Loyola. The affair has been so much laughed at, and the poor members of the Royal Court of Amiens were so ashamed of the trick played upon them, that, on the day after the procession, they met together and drew up a declaration which naturally commenced with an account of the fatal adventure. This official document, which has been inserted in all the journals, concludes as follows:

"To obviate the effects of the above-mentioned deception, and to prevent its being taken advantage of in future, the members of the Cour Royale declare that it was their intention to have attended only the procession of the vow of Louis the Thirteenth, and that the circumstance can in no way compromise the independence and dignity of the court."

By this unfortunate declaration the Royal Court of Amiens frankly acknowledges having been duped. English sober sense will scarcely conceive the electric effect which this affair has produced in the native land of vanity. Every court of the first instance-every petty justice of the peace, whose emoluments do not exceed eight hundred francs, is now in fear of being tricked by the Jesuits, and, finding that they may be braved with impunity, takes pleasure in snarling at them. The declaration of the Cour Royale has been a fatal blow to the poor society of Jesus.

The virtuous and tolerant Abbé de Chevezas, who for twenty years was bishop of Boston in the United States, has been appointed to the bishoprick of Bordeaux. This has given mortal offence to the Jesuits, for it shows that the ministry are standing more and more in awe of public opinion, and that they begin to think they may shake off the yoke of the disciples of Loyola. This triumph is entirely the work of the Journal des Debats, the only paper that is read by the nobility.

In general, but few Frenchmen travel in England. The difficulty of speaking your language in an intelligible way, is a great obstacle to foreigners. But what, above all, deters Frenchmen from visiting England, is the fear of dying of ennui in the evenings, owing to the great difference in the manners of the two countries. In France, every man above the lower class, is accustomed to spend his evenings abroad, and in the society of ladies. This perhaps cannot be very easily done in England; for a rout cannot be considered an agreeable party. A rout is the abuse of social intercourse, and not its equivalent or its perfection. In Paris a party is thought sufficiently numerous if it consist of five or six ladies and about a dozen gentlemen.

But whatever may be the considerations which usually withhold Frenchmen from travelling in England, I have observed with pleasure, that the curious spectacle presented by your elections has this summer tempted many of my countrymen to make a journey to England in preference to Switzerland. Before our revolution the French knew nothing about England. The customs of your country, which differ so essentially from ours, occasionally furnished our men of wit with a few agreeable jests, and that was all. Even Voltaire, whenever he speaks at any length upon England, is puerile, and soon becomes absurd; as, for example, when he accuses the English of horrible cruelty for the punishment of Admiral Byng.

Since the year 1814 we have had our elections, and we chose, well or ill,

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members for our House of Commons. Seven or eight years clapsed before we properly understood our own elections. We have no bribery, it is true, nor do we give great dinners to electors; but on the other hand, a great deal of roguery and deception is practised by the president, whom the ministry appoints for each electoral assembly. Our Chamber of Deputies does not yet feel its own strength: if I may be allowed so to express myself, I should say that it is of the same age as your House of Commons was in the reign of Queen Elizabeth. But our Chamber of Deputies is daily acquiring importance, and most of our young men of education begin to regard it as the great instrument destined to operate changes in France. To obtain a reputation for talent in Parisian society, it will no longer be sufficient to have written some agreeable poetry, or a few articles for the Journals, as was the case before 1780: a man must now be a member of the Chamber of Depu ties, and must every year deliver one or two tolerable speeches. All the young men of fortune who reside in Paris do not very clearly see the turn of things which I have just described; but they feel it. However, they are not examples.

The younger portion of Parisian society (for I do not speak of people of fortune who are upwards of fifty) is fully prepared to understand England. From 1715 to 1815 the French made no advancement in comprehending the institutions of this most singular, and, at that time, the freest country in the world. The different journeys published about the year 1810 were not less frivolous than the works of the same kind which appeared in the reign of Louis the Fifteenth. I remember very well, that about the year 1800, a man would have been looked upon as an original,† if he had ventured to make in company a simple reflection like the following:-" Look at the British islands on the map, they are so small as to be scarcely perceptible, and yet, by the persevering industry of its inhabitants, that little territory imparts life and activity to the two extremities of the globe, and is alike feared at Copenhagen and before the walls of Seringapatam.'

For the last two or three years we have been beginning to understand England. This fact is evident from the success which has attended the letters on the English elections, which appeared in the Globe. The Times, which is regarded as the organ of public opinion in England, inserted about the beginning of September, an abstract of these letters, acknowledging the correctness of the author's views, and the accuracy of his descriptions. These little sketches have been approved on both sides of the Channel, a thing very unusual for such productions. These letters are attributed to M. Duvergier, a young man of fortune, whose name was previously known in the literary world. In one respect they will form an epoch; for henceforth, when English customs are remarked upon in Paris, it will no longer be allowable to confine one's self to a few epigrams, more or less smart, like those written by travellers who endeavour to imitate " Voltaire's Lettres sur l'Angleterre." Do not imagine, however, that the letters attributed to M. Duvergier would induce us to admire every thing English. You have a dangerous rival in America. In the course of a discussion on England, occasioned by the letters in the Globe, M. de Pradt, Archbishop of Malines, said, "We are, with respect to liberty, like a savage who has walked all his life bare-legged. He finds it very comfortable to wear stockings, and he introduces the custom into his country; but would he be so silly as to confine himself merely to the purchasing of needles for the purpose of teaching his countrymen to knit them, when he might purchase aud import a stocking-machine, which would produce a hundred-fold more in the same time? Thus (conti

* One of our French election tricks consists in counting the number of votes for any particular candidate, and taking away twenty votes, for example, from the opposition deputy, and giving them to the deputy on the ministerial side.

+ This was considered an insulting term in the language which the monarchies of Louis the Fourteenth and Louis the Fifteenth formed for France.

nued M. de Pradt) we will not imitate institutions which, some hundred years ago, obtained for England a small portion of liberty. We will borrow from the Americans, the more simple and expeditious methods by which they manufacture liberty on a great scale. We ought to approximate the French to the American elections, and to take good care not to imitate those of England."

The Times and Morning Chronicle are much more read in Paris in the present year than they were during the last. This habit, which is regarded with much satisfaction by all sensible persons, would soon be discontinued were we frequently to find in the English Journals such futile observations as the Times inserted, on the profound sensation excited in France by the Portuguese Constitution. The Times remarked "Tous les journaux de Paris parlent de la constitution de Portugal avec cette exaggeration et cette sensibilité folle que les Français portent dans tout. Chez nous seuls (les Anglais) la sensation produite par cette révolution a été raisonnable." The Times would be very much embarrassed to reply to the following question: Will the giving of a charter to Portugal by Don Pedro hasten or retard the emancipation of the Irish Catholics-hasten or retard Parliamentary reform -or have any influence on the Corn Laws?

At present, matters as important to the French as the emancipation of the Irish Catholics, or the disputes about the Corn Laws, can be to the English, will be accelerated or retarded by the constitution which has been granted to the Portuguese. I have noticed the mistake of the Times, with regard to France, because errors of this sort frequently occur in the most esteemed English publications. Not long ago, the Edinburgh Review very gravely affirmed that the celebrated poet, Joseph Chenier, who, of all the imitators of Voltaire, most nearly resembles that great writer, contributed to the death of his brother André Chenier. Such mis-statements appear the more ridiculous because they are always advanced in a tone of ill-humour and jea lousy, which does not become one great nation in speaking of another. England and France are the fountain-heads of all the civilization that is diffused over the world. If any thing can cast a doubt on the rank occupied by Great Britain, it is the feeling of envy and jealousy which she cherishes towards France. Unfortunately, the French are very ready in observing all the shades of wounded vanity. You cannot imagine how much we have been entertained in Paris by an article in the Quarterly Review on Baron de Stael's "Lettres sur l'Angleterre." One of Sheridan's best comedies could not have made us laugh more heartily.

It is by such articles as these that insignificant writers impede the intellectual intercourse of two great nations-an intercourse which is as advantageous to both as the exchange of our wines for Birmingham cutlery. We are at present gaining largely by that intellectual commerce which the style of the Quarterly and Edinburgh Reviews tends to check. For the last twenty-five years no French writer has afforded us any thing like the pleasure we have derived from the works of Lord Byron and Sir Walter Scott; and this we frankly acknowledge. I observe that the English newspapers carefully record all the offences tried in our assize courts. You perhaps recollect, that on a late occasion, the president of the court addressing a man who was tried for the seduction of a young girl, said:" You are another Lovelace.” Some of your English readers might possibly not recollect the character of Lovelace, in Richardson's "Clarissa;" but you see the reputation of your great novelist is still alive in France.

Besides the letters on the English elections published in the Globe, the Frenchmen who are at present travelling in England must have transmitted to their friends many accounts of what they have seen. The French were certainly never more interested about England than they now are. Our ultras are getting Cobbett's" History of the Reformation," and Lingard's "History of England" translated and puffed in all their Journals. Lingard