J827.] Letter from Paris, upon Affairs iti general. 5()1 



till the first symptoms of cold are felt somewhat severely, that life in the capital 

 is resumed in all its tumult. The Paris season is the reverse of that of London. 

 It commences at the end of Novemher, and closes at the beginning of May. The 

 period of your hunting is that of our drawing-room parties. Previous to Novemher, 

 Paris may be compared to a vast lazaretto, where the valetudinarians of every 

 country take refuge. Instead of an exile to the Baths of Aix, or Bagmres, some 

 have, of late years, preferred those of Tivoli; some seek in the midst of our fetes, 

 the oblivion of favours received at the Court of St. Petersburgh. Mr. Recacho 

 has arrived from Spain, to obtain the protection of the court mercenaries, 

 with the constitutionalists whom he had banished. The members of the first 

 Portuguese Cortes take their ices at Tortoni's, seated with peers, who thought 

 Don Miguel would pardon them for having accepted the constitution of his bro- 

 ther, on condition of preventing its being put into execution. A certain lady 

 comes from London, to wait until certain scandalous reports, prejudicial to her 

 honour, are forgotten ; and the gentleman who sits in the next box to her lady- 

 ship at the opera, who has given the slip to his creditors, plunges into the vortex 

 of dissipation, and thus avoids the reproaches of an uneasy conscience. 



Add to the above, a few ennuyant visitors from the provinces, and some of the 

 petits maitres, delicate creatures, who would perish out of the subtle and vapour- 

 ous atmosphere of the Boulevard de Gand ; some stockjobbers; some adventurers 

 about to incur ruin by speculating on the fall, and others on the triumph of 

 M. de Villele, speculations equally adventurous, and you will see Paris in October. 

 Every thing is in preparation, but nothing is yet executed. . The ovens are heated 

 and the metal in fusion. A few short weeks, and we shall then see mean or mag- 

 nificent monuments the ridiculous or admirable, useful or absurd of human inge- 

 nuity. Herbault, in a grotesque head dress, meditates on the direction to be given 

 to the feathers of a new hat of her own invention. M. Scribe continues to report 

 a new production of his fecund and brilliant imagination, at the Gymnasium, 

 Feydeau, and Opera. M. Arnault, the younger, is rehearsing his Tiberius, by 

 French actors; and M. Lanrens is organizing, under similar discipline, the produc- 

 tions of Shakspeare and Rossini, for the pleasure of the idle Parisian, who is highly, 

 pleased to pass in review the dramatic productions of England, Germany, Italy 

 and Spain, after dining at the Gaffe de Paris, and before going to review the 

 beauties a la mode, while enjoying his ices at half past eleven, before the door of 

 Tortoni's. 



Whilst literature and the fashions are preparing to enter the arena, politics have 

 also their champions, and M. de Villele is about to enter the lists. It is said that 

 he will, in a few days, strike a masterly blow, by the aid of some old gladiators. 

 Before the 6th of November the lugubrious columns of the Mouiteur will contain 

 the funeral oration of the chamber which voted for the septenniality, and that also 

 wished to impose the right of primogeniture, and the slavery of the press on us. 

 This dissolution is agreeable to all parties. In spite of the efforts made by the 

 ministers, the liberals hope that the well informed electors will perform their duty 

 and return independent members. The illiberals calculate on the apathy of the 

 nation, and strong in the fortune of seven years, promise themselves the pleasure 

 of imitating the example of their brethren in Spain, and put an end to the liberties 

 of the country. Thus every body finds his account in the hazardous measures of 

 M. de Villele, and even the indifferents themselves, look forward to it as a means 

 of feeding their eager curiosity. 



The Distinctive character of this month, is, therefore, in all ranks, rather a pre- 

 lude to life than a real existence. The engine by which everything is to be put in 

 motion, is adjusting. The most important event of the month, is the trial of the 

 Abbe Contrefatto. For some time past, the crimes committed among the Catholic 

 Clergy have increased to a frightful extent. This is by no means surprising, and 

 it must go on increasing. Before the revolution, the clergy were not separated 

 from the nation, as they now are. The first class, that of grand vicars, among 

 whom the bishops were chosen, were composed of the sons of the most distin- 

 guished families in France, who added extensive information to all the graces of 

 society. The second class, that of beneficed abbes, was rather a set of indigent 

 idlers, whose morals were often relaxed, but who strove, above all things, to avoid 

 exposure. Some steady ecclesiastics, attached to their profession, occupied the 



