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I could never get one to speak to me in English, with the exception of the Prince Louis de la Trimouille, and the prince de Beauveau. The usual reply was, upon all occasions, "J'entends l'Anglais, mais je ne le parle pas.'

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"I was at court the night that Mrs. Gallatin, the American Ambassadress, was presented to the Duchesse d'Angoulème, who addressed her in French. Being informed that Mrs. G. did not speak French, her royal highness expressed her regret to Mr. Gallatin, that she could not address his lady in English, as she could not speak that language. Madame de Angouleme was received under the protection of England, while yet almost a child, and lived there twenty years." [p. 232, 233.]

The attention paid to the comfort of servants in France is highly commendable, and well requited. There is an intelligence, alertness and fidelity in the French servants not to be met with in the same class in any other nation. Whenever an entertainment is given, as the company arrive, their equipages are put under shelter, and their servants shown into an apartment, where they have an opportunity to amuse themselves, and where their ordinary recreation consists in some one's reading aloud some popular work for the general edification. "Nothing is more usual," says lady Morgan, than to see the hackney-coachmien reading on their stands, and even the "commissionaires," and the porteurs d'eau, drawing a duodecimo from their pockets, and perusing it with the most profound attention, in the intervals of their labour. It is impossible to visit "les Halles," the Parnassus of the comic Vadée, without being struck with the market, opened equally for poetry and potatoes, for philosophy and fish, for herbs and history." [p. 245.]

Lady Morgan dwells with considerable pleasure on the luxury of the French table. Instead of" frogs and soupe maigre," she found the French dejeuner as substantial as the Scotch breakfast, and more inviting; the dinner equal to that of the English, and the evening meal with its confectionary, ices, and "green tea punch" not excelled even in Ireland. The petit soupers are no longer in vogue, but have given place to the dejeuner à la fourchette. In the history of the occupations of one day, which she gives us at length, lady Morgan mentions, as a matter of course, the party's adjourning from the Opera to

* I understand English, but I do not

Apeak it.

the first restaurateur in Paris, where they seasoned their criticisms with savoury viands and grateful liqueurs. This single circumstance conveys more forcibly to our minds than any other she has stated, the difference of Parisian manners and the superior enjoyment of a Parisian life. In this country we have neither similar establishments nor the same freedom.

Lady Morgan's remarks on the French theatre are entertaining and judicious, but we have already made such copious extracts from her work, that we can afford to devote but little room to this subject. The French people are passionately fond of scenic representations, and enthusiastic in their admiration of excellence. Dramatic exhibitions are so frequent in Paris, and so accessible, that almost every auditor is a critic, at least in his own estimation, and audibly expresses his applause or disapprobation; but as his conceptions of character are rather the result of observation than of study, his criticisms are merely comparative. Any deviation from the prescribed costume or action, is hazardous to the performer who personates a part, of which the original impression was taken from Clairon or Le Kain. Even Talma is kept in subjection to hereditary prejudice. Lady Morgan could not feel the force of those frigid epigrammatic tirades which constitute the essence of French tragedy. "Having seen a French tragedy acted," says her ladyship, "I cannot find any thing so ridiculous in the request of the man, who, having been present at the ballot, in which the "qu'il mourut" of Corneille was executed, entreated Noverre to get his troop to dance the Maximes of La Rochefoucault." [Vol. 2, p. 47.]

In Lady Morgan's opinion, comedy is best suited to the genius of the French language, and she considers the French comedians the finest in the world. There is some foundation for the following observations. on the relative rank of tragie and comic powers, though her ladyship's abstract postulate is by no means true to the extent of the terms in which it is stated. "There may be," asserts Lady Morgan, "a thousand readings and conceptions of tragedy, according to the times and tastes of mankind; but true genuine comedy has always her standard of reference before her, in real life. By that she can be always tried, judged, and estimated; and Garrick doubtlessly displayed more genius, when he succeeded in Scrub, than when he excelled in Richard, Comedy is founded on the truth of nature, tragedy on her violation and extravagance, and it has no infallible standard,

by which it can be appreciated." [Vol. 2. p. 83.]

There is one further circumstance connected with the theatre, which is so honourable to the French, and so unlike the prevailing customs in some countries we have read of, that we cannot omit to no

tice it.

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"The strictest propriety, the most delicate observance of bienséance," says Lady Morgan, governs the audience of the Theatre Français, and women of the highest rank go to the theatre, and enter their boxes alone, in the full confidence that they are there equally safe from intrusion, insult, or annoyance, as in their own houses. Some years ago the parterre gave a proof of its gallantry, by obliging two gentlemen to quit the front row of the box that they occupied, in favour of two ladies who came in late, and seated themselves in a back row." [Vol. 2. p. 64.]

At the court theatre in the Thuilleries, Lady Morgan saw the celebrated Talleyrand in his official dress as grand chambellan, standing behind the chair of the king. She thus describes him: "I had frequently seen this celebrated personage, and future historical character, at court, upon other public occasions, in the bustle of processions, at the nuptial pomp of royalty, under the holy dome of Notre Dame, at the deepest tragedy, at the liveliest comedy, amidst the solemnity of the royal chapel, and the revelry of the feasting court-but I saw him always the same; cold, motionless; not abstracted, but unoccupied; not absent, but unmoved;-no tint varying the colourless hue of his livid complexion, no expression marking its character on his passive countenance. His figure seemed the shell of a human frame, despoiled of its organic arrangements, or, if the heart beat, or the brain vibrated, no power of penetration could reach the recesses of the one, or guess at the workings of the other. From the mind of this man the world seemed contemptuously shut outand if this most impassible form and face indicated character or opinion, one would have thought, at the first glance, this is surely the being who has said: "speech was given to man, to conceal his thoughts." It seemed as if the intimacy of love, the confidence of friendship, the community of counsel, could never draw the mind to that countenance, which amidst all the vicissitudes, versatility, changes, and contrasts in the life of its owner, had never been a book, in which men read strange things.

It was indeed a book, written in a dead language." [Vol. 2. pp. 78, 79.]

Among the literary characters with whom Lady Morgan became personally acquainted in Paris, were the veteran Abbé Morrillet, the superannuated Duc de Brancas, Mons. Suard, Secretaire perpetuel to the French Academy, the Comte Lally Tollendal, the Marquis de La Fayette, Ginguené, the Abbé Gregoire, the Comte de Segur, the Duc de Levis, the Baron Denon, the Comte de Pastoret, Madame de Genlis, Madame de Souza, &c. &c. The Comte le Mercier, the favourite dramatic poet of the present day, the Comte de Volney, and the Vicomte de Chateaubriand, she seems only to have seen in public. "The little intercourse which necessarily subsisted be tween England and France, prior to the year 1814," observes her ladyship, "has left the two countries reciprocally strangers to some of the most popular writers in their respective languages. Of our modern English poets, France knows little; and it is a singular fact, that before the first entry of the allies into Paris, even the works of Moore, Byron, and Scott, were almost unheard of in its literary circles. Of the innumerable poets, good and bad, in which France abounds, England still remains ignorant, with a very few exceptions.-Even the superior effusions of Parny, Le Gouvé, Berchoux, Le Brun, and Chenier, are but little read; while the works of Raynouard, Lormian, Grandmaison, Du Menil, Du Paty, Dufrenoy, Fontanes, Arnault, Michaud, and an host of others, are scarcely known even by name." [Vol. 2. pp. 156, 157.]

Lady Morgan visited the Marquis de la Fayette at his seat, called the Château of La Grange-Blessnau, a castle and domain which he inherited in right of his wife, the heiress of the house of Noailles. The name of La Fayette is so associated with important events of our own history, and is so familiar to our grateful recollections, that any thing which concerns this patriot and philanthropist cannot fail to excite an interest in this country. Our readers will derive sincere satisfaction from Lady Morgan's romantic account of this virtuous and venerable man. has not been in Paris, she informs us, since the return of the Bourbons. His estate is in the district of La Brie, but remote from the great road.

He

"In the midst of a fertile and luxurious wilderness," says our fair traveller, "rising above prolific orchards and antiquated woods, appeared the five towers of La Grange-Blessnau, tinged with the golden

rays of the setting sun. Through the boles of the trees, appeared the pretty village of Aubepierre, once, perhaps, the dependency of the castle, and clustering near the protection of its walls. A remoter view of the village of D'Hieres, with its gleaming river and romantic valley, was caught and lost, alternately, in the serpentine mazes of the rugged road; which, accommodated to the groupings of the trees, wound amidst branches laden with ripening fruit, till its rudeness sullenly subsided in the velvet lawn that immediately surrounded the castle. The deep moat, the draw-bridge, the ivied tower, and arched portals, opening into the square court, had a feudal and picturesque character; and, combined with the reserved tints and fine repose of evening, associated with that exaltation of feeling which belonged to the moment preceding a first interview with those, on whom the mind has long dwelt with admiration or interest.

"We found General La Fayette surFounded by his patriarchal family;--his excellent son and daughter-in-law, his two daughters (the sharers of his dungeon in Olmutz) and their husbands; eleven grand-children, and a venerable granduncle, the ex-grand prior of Malta, with hair as white as snow, and his cross and his order worn, as proudly as when he had issued forth at the head of his pious troops, against the "paynim foe," or Christian enemy. Such was the group

that received us in the salon of La Grange; such was the close-knit circle that .le our breakfast and our dinner party, accompanied us in our delightful rambles through the grounds and woods of La Grange, and constantly presented the most perfect unity of family interests, habits, taste, and affections.

"We naturally expect to find strong traces of time in the forms of those, with whose name and deeds we have been long acquainted; of those who had obtained the suffrages of the world, almost before we had entered it. But, on the person of La Fayette, time has left no impresgion; not a wrinkle furrows his ample brow; his unbent, and noble figure, is still as upright, bold, and vigorous, as the mind that informs it. Grace, strength, and dignity still distinguish the fine person of this extraordinary man, who, though more than forty years before the world, engaged in scenes of strange and eventful conflict, does not yet appear to have reached his climacteric. Bustling and active on his farm, graceful and elegant in his salon, it is difficult to trace, in one of the most successful agriculturists,

and one of the most perfect fine gentlemen that France has produced, a warrior and a legislator. The patriot, however, is always discernible.

"In the full possession of every faculty and talent he ever possessed, the memory of M. La Fayette has all the tenacity of unworn youthful recollection; and, besides these, high views of all that is elevated in the mind's conception. His conversation is brilliantly enriched with anecdotes of all that is celebrated, in character and event, for the last fifty years. He still talks with unwearied delight of his short visit to England, to his friend Mr. Fox, and dwelt on the witchery of the late Dutchess of Devonshire, with almost boyish enthusiasm. He speaks and writes. English with the same elegance he does his native tongue. He has made himself master of all that is best worth knowing, in English literature and philosophy. I observed that his library contained many of our most eminent authors upon all subjects. His elegant, and well chosen, collection of books, occupies the highest apartments in one of the towers of the château: and, like the study of Montaigne, hangs over the farm-yard of the philosophical agriculturist.-'It frequently happens,' said M. La Fayette, as we were looking out of the window at some flocks, which were moving beneath, 'it frequently happens that my Merinos, and my hay carts, dispute my attention with your Hume, or our own Voltaire.'

"He spoke with great pleasure on the visit paid him at La Grange some years ago, by Mr. Fox and General Fitzpatrick. He took me out, the morning after my arrival, to show me a tower, richly covered with ivy:-'It was Fox,' he said, 'who planted that ivy! I have taught my grandchildren to venerate it."

"The château La Grange does not, however, want other points of interest.— Founded by Louis Le Gros, and occupied by the princes of Lorraine, the mark of a cannon ball is still visible in one of its towers, which penetrated the masonry, when attacked by Marechal Turenne. Here, in the plain, but spacious, salon-àmanger, the peasantry of the neighbourhood, and the domestics of the castle, assemble every Sunday evening in winter, to dance to the violin of the concierge, and are regaled with cakes, and cau-sucrée. The General is usually, and his family are always, present, at these rustic balls. The young people occasionally dance among the tenantry, and set the examples of new steps, freshly imported by their Paris dancing-master." [Vol. 2. pp. 131–2– $4.]

Though we cannot well afford the room, we must indulge in one more extract from a work, which, with all its blemishes and imperfections, has afforded us very considerable pleasure, and in matters of fact not a little instruction. Madame de Genlis had retired to the convent of the Carmelites in Paris, (the asylum of her own beautiful and penitent Duchesse de la Valliére,) where it was understood she had devoted herself to religion; and Lady Morgan had almost relinquished the hope of seeing this justly celebrated woman, when she received an invitation to visit her in her retreat. We shall give the description of this interview in the language of our author,-nor can we omit the anecdote related by Madame de Genlis of Buonaparte's munificence.

"When I entered her apartment she was painting flowers in a book, which she called her "herbier sacré," in which she was copying all the plants mentioned in the Bible. She showed me, another volume, which she had just finished, full of trophies and tasteful devices, which she called l'herbier de reconnaissance. "But I have but little time for such idle amusements," said Madame de Genlis. She was, in fact, then engaged in abridging some ponderous tomes of French Mémoires, in writing her "Journal de la Jeunesse," and in preparing for the press her new novel "Les Battuécas," which she has since given to the world.

"Her harp was nevertheless well strung and tuned; her piano-forte covered with new music, and when I gave her her lute, to play for me, it did not require the drawing up a single string. All was energy and occupation.-It was impossible not to make some observation on such versatility of talent and variety of pursuits. "Oh! this is nothing," (said Madame de Genlis) "what I pride myself on, is knowing twenty trades, by all of which I could carn my bread.

"She conversed with great earnestness, but with great simplicity, without effort, as without pretension, and laughed heartily at some anecdotes I repeated to her, which were then in circulation in Paris.When I mentioned the story of her receiving a mysterious pupil, who came veiled to her apartments, whose face had never been seen even by her attendants, she replied that there was no mystery in the case; that she received two or three unfortunate young people, who had no means of supporting themselves; and to whom she taught the harp, as a mode of subsistence, as she had done to Casimir, now one of the finest harpists in VOL. II. NO. I.

the world.-I could not help telling her, I believed she had a passion for edu ding; she replied, "au contraire, cela m'a toujours ennuyé," and added, it was the only means now left her of doing good.

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"I had been told in Paris, that Madame de Genlis had carried on a secret correspondence with the late Emperor; which is another term for the higher walks of espionage. I ventured one day to talk to her on the subject; and she entered on it with great promptitude and frankness. Buonaparte," she said, was extremely liberal to literary people-a pension of four thousand francs per annum was assigned to all authors and gens-des-lettres, whose circumstances admitted of their acceptance of such a gratuity.—He gave me, however, six thousand, and a suit of apartments at the Arsenal. As I had never spoken to him, never had any intercourse with him whatever, I was struck with this liberality, and asked him, what he expected I should do to merit it? When the question was put to Napoleon, he replied carelessly, "Let Madame de Genlis write me a letter once a month." As no subject was dictated, I chose literature; but I always abstained from politics! Madame de Genlis added, that though she never had any interview with him, yet, on her recommendation, he had pensioned five indigent persons of literary talent.

"One of these persons was a mere literaire de société, and it was suggested to Buonaparte, that if he granted four thou sand francs per annum to a man, who was not an author, and was therefore destitute of the usual claims on such stated bounty, that there were two friends of that person, equally clever, literary, and distressed, who would expect, or at least ask, for a similar provision. "Eh bien," (said Buonaparte) "cela fait douze mille francs;" and he ordered the other two distressed literati to be put on the annuity list with their friend.

"It was said to me in Paris, that Madame de Genlis had retired to the Carmelites, "désabusée des vanités de ce monde, et des chimères de la célébrité." I know not how far this may be true, but it is certain, that if she has done with the vanities of the world, she has by no means relinquished its refinements and tastes, even amidst the coldness and austerity of a convent. Her apartment might have answered equally for the oratory of a saint, or the boudoir of a coquette. Her blue silk draperies, her alabaster vases, her fresh-gathered flowers, and elegant Grecian couch, breathed still of this world:

5

but the large crucifix, that image of suffering and humility, which hung at the foot of that couch; the devotional books that lay mingled with lay works, and the chaplets and rosaries which hung suspended from a wall, where her lute vibrated, and which her paintings adorned, indicated a vocation before which genius lay subdued, and the graces forgotten. On showing me the pious relics which enriched this pretty cell, Madame de Genlis pointed out to my admiration a Christ on the Cross, which hung at the foot of her bed. It was so celebrated for the beauty of its execution, that the Pope had sent for it, when he was in Paris, and blessed it, ere he returned the sad and holy representative to its distinguished owner. And she naturally placed great value on a beautiful rosary, which had belonged to Fenelon; and which that eloquent saint had worn and prayed over, till a few days before his death." [Vol. 2. pp. 187-9-8

Whilst Lady Morgan was in Paris, the Marchioness de Villette gave a déjeuner à la fourchette, in commemoration of Voltaire, to which she invited "all who remained of the friends and cotemporaries of the patriarch of Ferney."

"The lovely Madame Jerome Buonaparte (Mrs. Patterson) and ourselves," says Lady Morgan, "were the only foreigners present at this literary déjeuner. The society of Paris, by its variety, frequently presents the most singular combinations and unlooked-for associations. I was at a ball one evening, at Madame de Villette's, and leaning on Mrs. Patterson's arm, when the Prince Paul of Wirtemberg entered into conversation with me: some observation made by Mrs. Patterson induced him to ask her, whether she was an American? He was not aware that he asked this question of the wife of the man, who was since married to his own sister; the ex-king of Westphalia being now the husband of the Princess Royal of Wirtemberg." [Vol. 2. p. 203.]

The space which we have devoted to these amusing but desultory volumes, must be our excuse for omitting all notice of the Appendix, by Sir T. Charles Morgan, which contains treatises on the state of law, finance, medicine and political opinion in France. We have no room for the discussions to which an examination of these subjects would lead, nor have we any inclination to enter upon them. E.:

ART. 6. Report of the Committee of the Connecticut Asylum, for the Education and Instruction of Deaf and Dumb persons. Exhibited 1st of June, 1817. Hartford. Hudson & Co. Printers.

A Sermon delivered at the opening of the Connecticut Asylum, for the Education and Instruction of Deaf and Dumb persons, at the request of the Directors, on Sunday evening, April 20, 1817. By Thomas H Gallaudet. Printed for the benefit of the Asylum. Hudson & Co. Printers. Hartford, 1817.

THE progress of improvement in society, in Europe and in this country, -for the last twenty years, has been so rapid, that we have almost lost the habit, which we suspect has been common to almost all ages of the world, of referring to each immediately preceding generation as a period of greater wisdom, if not more learning, and certainly of much greater virtue than our own. Whether it be that the reverence with which our infancy is commonly inspired for maturer years, by a very natural association, attaches itself to every thing connected with age-whether it be, that familiarity and nearness discover to us defects in the best intellects, and stains on the fairest virtue, which are rendered invisible by distance, or are obscured to the eye of partial observation-whether because the mass of men must always depend upon

others for their opinions, and therefore naturally resort to established authoritywhether because they repose with a kind of satisfaction upon ascertained excellence, and withold their praise, and even attention, from novel pretensions, for fear of disappointment-whether because it ever was and ever will be the fate of merit to be obstructed by the jealousies of competition; the apprehensions of favourites; and more than by either, the interest of establishments-or, whether it be owing to all these causes combined-the fact has been, until the period above mentioned, that almost all great public blessings, whether the result of invention or discovery, have carried on a dubious warfare with prejudice and ignorance, until their authors have been removed beyond the reach of human praise or recompence. It is perhaps among the most

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