PARISIAN CORRESPONDENCE. Rue Saint Dominique, Faubourg St. Germain, DEAR MELMOTH, You may tell your fair friends that they need not be at all afraid of coming; every thing is quiet enough, and likely to remain so, for trade has at last revived in a great degree. The common people will not therefore be easily excited to revolt. It is in fact only in a season of great distress, or of high prosperity, that they can be quickly roused. France is not at this moment by any means in the first case, and certainly she is still far, very for indeed, from the last. As to the government, it is not popular, and the miserable spirit of parsimony, of which its head gives every day fresh proofs, tends hourly to render it less so. The opposition journals have just had a delicious treat in one of those good bargains which Louis Phillippe is so fond of making.-I shall tell you the facts divested of exaggeration. A picture, called La Cinquantaine, had been placed in the exhibition of paintings: the subject was good, and treated in a masterly manner; it is a village scence.-An old couple, with all their family and their neighbours, are returning from church, where they have been to offer up their thanks for fifty years of a happy union. The subject is in itself an interesting one, and it is rendered doubly so by the nature and truth which the artist has infused into it: it was regarded as the chef d'ouvre of the exhibition. The official paper, the Moniteur asserted, that the king had bought it: the other newspapers repeated the same thing; when, to the surprise of everybody, the artist wrote to all the different papers that the king had offered to buy it, but would not give the price he demanded, and, therefore, the picture was still to be sold. On the day that this letter appeared, the proprietor of a Carlist weekly paper called, upon the artist, enquired the price of the picture, and what the king had offered for it. He was told, that the price was five thousand francs, and that Louis Phillippe had offered two thousand five hundred. The Carlist, after cheapening it, finally bought it for four thousand five hundred, and is now about to dispose of it by lottery, having issued tickets at fifty francs each, only sufficient in number to cover the money he actually gave for it. I believe the tickets were immediately bought up by the opulent of the party; and all parties, except his own, have agreed in lavishing the most unqualified abuse upon Louis Phillippe for his economy. Paris is at this moment very full, but it is rather with foreigners than French people, for a great number of the latter have already left town. Many, and particularly the parvenues go only to a short distance from it. Gentry of this class may be called villa fanciers. I know one who has had at least ten in the course of a dozen years, but I believe it was principally the fault of his wife, who seems to have had a perfect mania for exhibiting herself, her dresses, and her equipages, in all the environs of Paris. This is, however, a sort of mania which the rich alone are subject to, for one of the heaviest taxes is that on the transfer of property, and where people are known to have a fondness for change, they are generally made to pay for it; for when a villa fancier wants to sell his house, every body knows that he will sooner lose considerably, than continue to keep it: thus he is almost invariably sure to sell to a great disadvantage: the sums lavished in this way are incredible. Heaven help the man whose wife is a villa fancier, and a shawl fancier! no fortune can stand that, as a recent instance proves. The unfortunate man was the son of an army accoutrement maker; the father had amassed an immense fortune, under Bonaparte, which he left to his son, who always appeared to live considerably within his incóme. He had no mistresses, he did not game, he committed suicide! and, to the surprise of everybody, he was found to have died worse than nothing, and when his affairs were investigated, it was discovered that his wife had ruined him in country-houses and cashmeres. The sea-side, which the Parisians formerly never thought of resorting to, has also latterly been in much request among them. Dieppe was the most fashionable, but Havre is now quite as much so. A friend of mine, who has just returned from it, tells me, that it is Paris in miniature; this accounts for the prediliction that the ladies in general display for it. It is also much frequented by the Americans, which renders it an agreeable sojourn for the republican part of our jeunesse, with whom, at present, America and her institutions are objects almost of idolatry. It is really amusing to hear a French republican dandy, for I assure you we have such animals, descant on the virtues of simplicity and temperance, and express his horror of the false refinements that luxury has introduced among us, at the very moment that his dress, his house, and his equipages, are in the height of the last ridiculous mode. Nothing can be more ludicrous than to see a genuine Yankee come in contact with one of these fops. The scene would draw a smile from the crying philosopher himself. The Frenchman, while he is in the jargon of his party, lavishing eulogiums on the only country where liberty and happiness are to be found, shrinks with a mingled feeling of contempt and disgust from the rough and untutored American, who listens with great gravity and interest to all that is said about his own country; but when any attempt is made to bring France, or her affairs, upon the tapis, Jonathan not only manifests the most perfect indifference to all that concerns the great nation, but even cuts short the conversation by yawning in the face of the speaker. I must, however, in justice observe, that though I have often witnessed a scene of this kind, yet I have also met with Americans whose manners would do honor to any country. A few days since I passed the evening with a family from New York, where I saw, for the first time, the celebrated American novelist, Cooper, who, like Washington Irving, offers a most favorable specimen of the American character, though of a different kind. The manners of Washington Irving are singularly frank and cordial; there is something about him that irresistibly claims your confidence, while the mixture of gaiety and simplicity with which he talks, makes you lose sight of the author in the pleasant, or rather, I ought to say, delightful, companion. Cooper's manners are rather cold; he is perfectly well bred, but with more of the republican simplicity and gravity than his celebrated countryman. Mrs. B spoke to him of his works, for which you know she has quite a passion; he appeared pleased at the evident sincerity of her admiration, but it was a pleasure which he checked the expression of, for he quickly, and with great modesty, turned the conversation to something else. The mention of Mrs. Trollope had a talismanic effect upon Cooper; his whole countenance changed. I shall never forget the fire with which he defended his country, and, to say the truth, his eloquence carried with it a degree of conviction, because it was evident that he fully believed the charges brought against his native land were false. The re-union was composed principally of Americans, there being no others present but one French Gentleman, and my own family. Certainly, as the Frenchman afterwards observed to me, if we were to judge of the national character by the sample that the soirée afforded, we should have reason to agree with Cooper, for the women were all pleasing, intelligent, and unaffected, and some were even elegant. The men were grave and sensible: they did not, with the exception of Cooper, display any marked degree of talent, but there was no want of good breeding. The weather is at present so intensely hot that the theatres, with one exception, are nearly deserted; that one is the theatre François, where a piece called Les Fils d'Edouard, has just been brought out; it is taken from Richard the Third, but the children and the queen are rendered more prominent and interesting; it has been received with enthusiasm, and draws crowded houses. What appears exceedingly singular is, that the author, Casemir Delavigne, the poet Laureat, and personal friend of the king, should have chosen a subject, one of the leading incidents of which, Gloucester's usurpation of the crown, is sure to call forth reflections and comparisons that must be very galling to Louis Phillippe. The fact was accounted for at first, by a report which turns out to be false, that the king had quarrelled with his favorite, and wagers have been laid to a large amount, that notwithstanding the great success of the piece, Louis Phillippe would not go to see it for fear of meeting with some public insults. The wagers are still undecided, but the king has written, with his own hand, a letter of congratulation to the author on the success of his piece. No one believes in the sincerity of his congratulations, but every one gives him credit for the policy which has dictated them. My womankind charge me to say, that one or both of them will write soon to your's. I wish you and they would join us here, but I suppose there is no getting you away from home. Adieu, G. Melmoth, Esq. Melmoth Hall, &c. &c. Yours most faithfully, THE LADIES' TOILET. PUBLIC PROMENADE DRESS.-The robe is composed of gros de Naples of a new shade of gold color; a half high corsage. Sleeves of the usual form, ornamented with a knot of ribbon to correspond, placed on each shoulder, the ends of the knot fall rather low upon the sleeve. Embroidered muslin manchettes. The mantelet is of clear muslin lined with sarsenet, to correspond with the dress, and edged with a light embroidery. It is rounded behind, forms a stomacher in front, the ends pass through the ceinture, and descends considerably below the knees. Square falling collar, also embroidered round the border, and fastened at the throat by a bow of gauze ribbon. Bonnet of perer de soie, lined with crape, both correspond in color with the dress. A white willow plume, and a knot of gold-colored gauze ribbon adorn the crown. cap is a blond lace cornette. The EVENING DRESS.-Of lavender-bloom crape over gros de Naples to correspond. A low corsage, with a lappel, open on the shoulders, and rounded behind in the pelerine style; it crosses low upon the bosom, displaying a blond lace chemisette: the lappel is bordered with blond lace. Amadis sleeves; they are ornamented down the front of the arm with knots of gauze ribbon to correspond. The hair is very much parted on the forehead, curled at the sides, arranged in a full knot at the back of the head, and ornamented with a bow, and ends of ribbon placed on the knot, and a gold chain, with a ruby clasp in the centre, brought L. 33. 2. C |