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posed him at the college which usually returned him as deputy, and for having got appointed in his stead. Jollivet and Martel were the loudest in his reproaches, whilst Etienne took his part, and said that "Thiers was the only man produced by the revolution of 1830." Emile de Girardin, the proprietor of La Presse, opposed M. Etienne, the grand director of the Constitutionnel, and M. Mauguin, the proprietor of the Commerce, stirred up the fire, put on more fuel, and laughed to his heart's content when he heard the strife. M. de Salvandy was full of "wise saws and modern instances," and M. Humann looked very unhappy all the time, till he got away. The loudest talker in the room was Emile de Girardin, and he advocated extreme measures. M. Jollivet was of opinion that the press in France should be put under no restriction, but that the government should establish a a permanent bureau, composed of the ablest and most conscientious writers, who should be well paid by that government, and be charged to reply in each day's journal to the false or inaccurate statements contained in the journals of the previous day. By the laws at present existing each paper must insert the government reply to every attack made on the government or its agents. This opinion of M. Jollivet's gave rise to much discussion, and M. Guizot made his appearance to listen to the conversation. The Marquis de Dalmatie was full of complaints about some pictures which Marshal Soult, his father, had hoped to have sold to the civil list, but had been disappointed. The Prince de Moskowa talked of his horses, and Lord "Smoor," as he pronounced Seymour, to some young marquises who had "looked in" at M. Guizot's to pay their respects. M. Viennet, the deputy, was reading in a quiet corner his last verses, which appeared to harass more than delight his inattentive listener. Count Jaubert was discussing a plan of draining lands which had been sent him from England, and M. Martin du Nord was attending to him with marked interest. this was passing in a rcom a few feet square, crowded to suffocation, whilst others were conversing in room No. 3, to which we shall now introduce our readers.

And all

The room No. 3 was the departing-room-" the few more last words" room the room where the young nobility arranged their rendezvous for the next day, where the elderly gentlemen get a little cool prior to rushing into the courtyard, and where now and then, out of the way of the multitude in the other chambers, the sedate and serious had a quiet tête-à-tête prior to their proceeding even that very evening to other political saloons. Royer Collard, Soult, and De Broglie met together. They whispered so low that their conversation was inaudible, but Royer Collard, on leaving, said, "Adieu M. le Maréchal, adieu De Broglie," shaking the latter warmly by the hand; adding, in French, "he who lives longest will see most."

"That is if he continues to see," said Mauguin, who came in at the very moment.

This caused a laugh, as it was known that Mauguin had that day written that the doctrinaires were "all blind."

Thus the evening passed; the first room became empty, the second room gradually thinned, and at last no one remained behind but Thiers and Guizot. What passed between them we know not, but our readers may be sure that it was not the least important portion of " a soirée at M. Guizot's,"

THE LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF CHARLES CHESTERFIELD,

THE YOUTH OF GENIUS.

BY MRS. TROLLOPE.

CHAP. XIII.

AN EVENING PARTY-AN EUROPEAN CELEBRITY-A TREATY ON THE BASIS OF RECIPROCAL ADVANTAGES —“ LA DOLCE LINGUA❞—

CHARLES IS EXPOSED TO A NEW DANGER.

Ar the usual hour for assembling together the population of metropolitan drawing-rooms, those of Clara began to fill; nor was it long before that indescribable sound was heard through them, which, like the gurgling of the waves upon a pebbly shore, shows that the tide is in.

Mr. and Mrs. Gibson, Miss Almeria, and Miss Theodosia were among the first who entered; for though they chose to be "very distinguished people," Mrs. Gibson piqued herself on having raised her whole family to that position, without having condescended to adopt any of the more ordinary modes of obtaining it. Mrs. Gibson knew perfectly well that "very distinguished people" who are not born to greatness, but achieve it, make the appearing exceedingly late, wherever they are expected to appear at all, a constant habit, cheap in adoption, and productive of considerable effect. So far the practice might certainly have suited her well, and she might have been tempted to adopt it, had it not militated against her very nature, by keeping her quiet when she had the means of being in a bustle; out of sight when she might be looked at, and out of hearing when she had a chance of being listened to. The Gibson family were therefore always early; for, as every body who had the pleasure of Mrs. Gibson's acquaintance knew, her will was law, and it was her will that so it should be.

Neither Sir George nor Mrs. Longuéville had entered the room when they arrived; the former being still engaged in sipping claret with two gentlemen who had dined with him, and the latter stretched full-dressed on a sofa in her bedroom, half asleep, and half listening to the tittletattle of her French maid. But Charles Chesterfield was there, dressed in a town-made suit, according to the orders of Sir George, and looking so happy and so handsome, that what with his appearance, and the aristocratic domicile in which he appeared-the absence of more important objects, and the recollection of his publishing propensities, Mrs. Gibson seized upon him with an affectionate familiarity that made his heart bound with gratitude, and placed him as nearly at his ease as it was possible for him to be, at this his second appearance in public, and his first in a style of dress entirely new to him.

"What a treat it is to catch you for a moment before your rooms are full, dearest Clara!" exclaimed Almeria, as she pressed the hand of Miss Meddows to her bosom with both her own; rousing her courage to

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this very familiar address, for the sake of displaying to her mother and sister the terms on which she stood with her elegant friend. "What an age, dear friend, has it appeared to me since we met last!" Nothing could be much more unmeaning than the absent smile with which Clara received this address; but it mattered not, it did exceedingly well for Miss Almeria, who replied to it by saying with a sigh,

"Ah! that smile, dear friend! What volumes it speaks! Yesyou are right-quite right, dear! What I would say to you is for the boudoir, and not for the drawing-room. Attendons, attendons, chère amie !"

"What

"And what have you been doing since we parted?" said Mrs. Gibson, laying her fan caressingly on the shoulder of Charles. would I not give to be in your confidence, fully in your confidence, Mr. Chesterfield! I have it from the very best, the very best and highest authority-you may guess whom I mean that there is that within you which will blaze forth ere long, and astonish us all," and she touched her forehead significantly as she spoke. Poor Charles! This was indeed fooling him to the top of his bent; he felt halfway to paradise, and giving way to the titillating excitement, he permitted the energetic lady to lead him off to a distant sofa, where he actually recited to her enraptured ear a sonnet to the river Wade; a brisk little trout-stream on whose banks he had culled cowslips for Bessy, before the hope of ever conversing with a literary London lady had visited him, even in his dreams. It is true his voice trembled, but he recited the lines distinctly.

"I have no words! upon my honour, Mr. Chesterfield, I am at a loss how to express to you the emotions you have made me feel !" exclaimed Mrs. Gibson. "Oh! what exquisite enjoyment it is for a mind like mine to meet a talent so rich and rare, and a spirit so perfectly unblaze! You must forgive me, Mr. Chesterfield, if you now and then catch me making a new word, when I can find no old one to suit me. Poetic licence is granted, you know, even by the severest academies, and why may not an expression licence, as I call it, be accorded to those whose thoughts are too copious to find sufficient vent in our ordinary vocabulary? Would it not be tyranny to deny it to us?"

"Indeed I think so," replied Charles, by no means disposed to differ on any subject with so kind a friend, though utterly at a loss to guess what unblazé might be.

"You will come to me Tuesday evening without fail? Don't forget my Tuesdays, Mr. Chesterfield! every Tuesday till the end of the season, I shall receive, sans faute, and I shall decidedly quarrel with you if you forget it." It was with much greater sincerity than such speeches are usually made, that Charles assured her it would be impossible he should ever forget an invitation of hers, and that Tuesday would never be a red-letter day to him.

While this was going on in one part of the room, Theodosia was examining the music-books in another; while her father, being very particularly disengaged, endeavoured to assist her, though in doing so, he had to endure many strong, though very affectionate reprimands, concerning various little defects in his style.

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