quent editor of the 'National,' whose semicolons almost look like inverted swords; "does any body want to fight?"-"We! we!" the 'National,' and the editors of the National," "we will fight as much as you please." A challenge is immediately sent by a gentleman, and a journalist, whose name I forget; but, in the mean time, the editors of the liberal papers had held a consultation together, and agreed that if one fought all should fight, and that there should be a pitched battle of five on a side.*

Well, what is the difference between the two combats? the journalists five on a side, and the great noblemen five on a side-except that in the one combat journalists fought, and in the other noblemen? But the journal to-day answers to

* When the gentleman commissioned to carry a hostile message to M. Carrel made his appearance, he was informed of this resolution, "but," said M. C. "there is no rule without its exception: I will be the exception, and fight your friend, sir, as a particular favour, to-morrow morning." They fought and wounded one another severely. But the great battle was still to have taken place, and it was by an accident that we lost the spectacle of ten gentlemen of the press stripped to their shirts, and sword in hand, thrusting quart and tierce up to their knees in in a quarrel respecting the virtue of the Duchesse de Berri.

snow,

the great nobleman of ancient time.

We'll

take the 'National' for the Duc de Beaufort, for

instance. The National' has its three gentlemen attached to it now, as the Duc de Beaufort had his three gentlemen formerly attached to him.

The gentlemen who write for these papers answer to the gentlemen who were attached to the houses of these grand seigneurs ! the great families of France-its great fortunes are gone. The whole power of the government and of society is changed; but the feelings formerly represented by one class have found their way into another. How do you account for this? The equality which existed among the French nobility has descended and exists now among all classes-the military spirit and the military manners of France have done the same-for the character of a nation will penetrate all its institutions-will give its air and physiognomy to every form of government which it essays.

*

But it is not only that we find the soldier's

* I say nothing of the army, and its spirit, and its discipline here, since I hope, at a future time, to go more fully into that subject.

character stamped on the citizen; we also find the soldier prominent in the different pursuits of the city.

What man more known to succeed in that society where a certain air of gaiety and gallantry captivates the women, whose reign of coquetry is drawing to a close, and excites the admiration of the young men who are just beginning to be à-la-mode, than Col.

?

A lively and agreeable countenance, over which an eye that flashes fire and a slight but dark moustache throw a martial air of energy and determination; that sort of wit which is always delivered à-propos, and which rather consists in having something on all occasions ready to say, than in the precise excellence of what is said; a peculiar turn of phrase, which somehow or other gives you an idea, but an agreeable idea, of his profession; and a manner of speaking, soft but short, and full of a slight emphasis, which as he pronounces his words gives a value to them above their meaning: these are the qualities, assisted by an imperturbable impudence, and an excellent education, which. have given to this hero of the drawing-room the notoriety he possesses. Magnificent, prodigal, studying effect in his

expenses, and desirous to give to his premeditated follies the air of a careless extravagance-famous for the bills he owes for bonbons, and the money he has spent in canesfamous also for his intrigues behind the scenes of the Français,' in the 'foyers' of the Opera, and in the 'salons' of the Faubourg St. Germain -perfect in the art of ripening one intrigue before he passes from the other, and deriving much of his pleasure from the pain he inflicts--ready to give offence, to take offencegreat gambler, great duellist, and fortunate as both-this gentleman is the idol of a circle whose praise one courts at twenty, and despises ten years afterwards.

Col. is another character, entirely dif ferent from the one I have just been describing; for he is the model of a soldier, such as we figure a soldier in the times of sensibility, chivalry, and parfait amour. Passionate, nervous, incapable of rest, he has never had but two idols,- peril and the woman he loved. Has he no softer object to transport, torment, irritate, and occupy him?-malheur à l'état !—he conspires. But do not imagine that his character changes in his new part; that he is less frank, less open; that

he does not say all that he thinks, all that he does. Listen to him! he will tell you that the scheme is almost organized, that so many men are ready in such a province, that so many barrels of powder are concealed in such a cellar in Paris; that the day is fixed; that success is certain. He is so frank that he deceives every one. The Police are disconcerted, they cannot believe in arrangements that are publicly talked of at Tortoni's; a shower of rain, a change of humour, or the sight of a pretty foot, deranges the plot, and the conspiracy sleeps for a while in the arms of a new mistress.

dreams of the noblest things, and as his physical force never yields before his desires, he imagines himself capable of carrying the State upon his shoulders, of restoring, destroying; his breast is a volcano of resolutions, of plans half organized, long meditated, and then, in turn, abandoned. But, if you told him that he mistook restlessness for activity, discontent for ambition, a love of change for a love of liberty, and the follies of a vague enthusiasm for the concentrated plans of genius, he would believe that you totally misunderstood his character, and rush with redoubled passion into some new absurdity, in order to prove that he deserved