CHARACTIERS. 
on this subje& a very striking 
thing—one of those speeches which 
may be the cause 0} a great man 
hereafter; ‘* Genius is only a great- 
er aptitude to pat-evce.’’ Observe, 
that patience must be applied to 
every thing: patience in finding 
out one’s line, patience in resisting 
, the motives that divert, and pa- 
tience ia bearing what would dis. 
courage a common man, 
’ IT will mention some facts of 
Buffon. He would sometimes re- 
turn from the suppers of Paris at 
two in the morning, when he was 
young. A boy was ordered to call 
him at five, however late he re- 
turned: and, in case of his linger- 
ing in bed, to drag him out on the 
floor. He used to work till six at 
night. ‘I had at that time (said 
he) a mistress of whom I was very 
fond: but I would never allow my- 
self to go to her till six, even at 
the risk of finding her gone cut.’’ 
He thus distributes his day. At 
five o’clock he rises, dresses, pow- 
ders, diétates letters, and regulates 
his household matters. At six he 
goes to the foresaid study, which is 
a furlong distant from the house, at 
the extremity of the garden. ‘Lhere 
‘are gates to open and terraces to 
climb by the way. When not en- 
gaged in writing, he paces up and 
down the surrounding” avenues. 
Wo one may intrude on his retreat. 
He often reads over what he has 
written, and then lays it by for a 
time. ‘‘ It is important,’’ said he 
tome, ‘‘ never to be ina hurry: 
review your compositions often, 
-and ‘every time with a fresh eye, 
and you will always find that they 
can be mended.’? When he has 
made many correftions ‘in a:manu- 
Script, he employs an amanuensis, 
-to transcribe it, and then he cor- 
[343 
rets again. He told M, dé S—— 
that the Ep gues de lr Nature were 
written over eighteen times. , He 
is very orderly and exact. ‘¢ T burn 
(said he te me) every thing which 
1 do not intend to use: nota paper 
will be found at my death.” 
I resume the account of his day. 
At nine, breakfast is brought to 
him in the study. It consists of 
two glasses of wine and abit of . 
bread: He writes for about two 
hours after breakfast, and then re- 
turns to the house. He does not 
love to hurry over his dinner; dur. 
ing which he gives vent to all the 
gaicties and trifles which suggest 
themselves while at tabie. He 
loves to talk smuttily; and the ef- 
feét_of his jokes and laughter are 
heightened by the natural serious- 
ness of his age and calmness of his 
chara&ter! but he is often so coarse 
as to compel the ladies to with- 
draw. He talks of himself. with 
pleasure, and like a critic. | He 
said to me, ‘* I learn every day to 
write; in my latter works there is 
infinitely more perfe@tion than? in 
my former. I often have «my 
works read to. me, and this mostly 
pats me uppn some improvement. 
There are, however, passages which 
I cannot improve.’’ In this open- 
ness there is a something interest- 
ing, Original, antique, attra¢tive. 
Speaking of Rousseau, he said, 
«© T loved him much until I read his 
Confessions, and then I ceased to 
esteem him. I cannot fancy the 
spirit of the man; an unusual pio- 
cess happened to me with respect 
to him: after his death I lost. my 
reverence for him.’? » ‘ 
This great man is’ very much of 
a gossip, and, for at least.an hour 
in the day, ‘will make his hair- 
dresser and valets tell all the, scan- 
£4 dal 
