286 MEMOIRS OF 



it as it appears to ourselves. Sometimes he 

 would enliven the evening by proposing a party 

 to eat ices at one of the famous cafes ; and, on 

 one occasion, he insisted on showing me, as an 

 Englishwoman, how happy the lower classes of 

 French are on tlieir fete days ; and, passing the 

 barrier close to the Jardin des Plantes, he led 

 us among the guinguettes * outside, where the 

 people were dancing and singing, and making 

 merry. He delighted in their mirth, stopped to 

 witness it, and, several times turning round to 

 me, asked me if the English knew any thing of 

 such liglit-liearted enjoyment. It is said of some 

 celebrated person, tliat no one could take shelter 

 from the rain with him, under a shed, for a 

 quarter of an hour, without deriving some in- 

 formation from liis discourse. This observation 

 may be equally applied to M. Cuvier; for after 

 these little excursions, intended solely for diver- 

 sion, it was frequently a matter of surprise to 

 find that something had been learned, either by 

 way of history, character, language, or moral 



* Many of these guinguettes consist of nothing but a mere 

 shed, with a little space in front, where the guests sit and 

 drink weak wine (vin ordinaire), sugar and water, lemonade, 

 &c., dance, sing, and play at dominos. They are generally 

 placed outside the barriers to avoid the duty paid on pro- 

 visions of every kind as they enter Paris. 



