Villemain is a remarkable and indeed the last surviving specimen, of the mode of thinking and speaking of the last century. His French is classic, his style epigrammatic, his tone ironical, and his arguments Voltairianism. Cousin is an awkward schoolboy, who has purloined some eloquence and mysticism from German philosophers. But we have already come to the second-rate men, and may close the series of sketches into which we have digressed. We return to the opinions of Gutzkow. What he says respecting Louis Philippe is too remarkable to be passed over in silence. congruities that no one could recognise as King of the French. That personage is indeed talkative, especially to those on whom he wants to impress any idea, and from whom he knows that he has none to get. But when Gutzkow says that he is a man of great observation, but cannot listen, he talks nonsense. There was a time when Louis Philippe was all ear, and no tongue, and that was when he was Duke of Orleans. He has little left to learn now in men or in things, except what his secret spies and correspondence tell him. And therefore he talks. Gutzkow says that he is indiscreet, that he is not of the Talleyrand school, that he betrays his sentiments, and so forth. It is "No correct view has been taken of Louis Phi- merely evident from this that Herr Gutzlippe," says Herr Gutzkow. He is depicted as a kow is an honest Hamburger, whose worldsincere and reserved personage, following up fixed aims with the utmost prudence and management. y sagacity; as Ruge says of him, must He is considered as half Louis the Eleventh, half have been developed in the raw cotton of Cromwell. The nice balance and varying fortunes that trading city. Louis Philippe indisof political parties is all considered the work of his creet! Louis Philippe betrays his sentipolitical cleverness. There is not a word of truth ments! God help the simple German! Anin all this. Louis Philippe is the most talkative, other month spent in Paris would have unquiet, uncertain person in all France. The convinced him that truth and indiscretion King of the French is good-natured, well-informed, sharp-sighted, but without any real power or firm were qualities quite unknown in the politwill. The ever fermenting anxiety of his heart ical latitude which he pretends to describe. vents itself in words. To talk is his first necessity. But still Herr Gutzkow has his fraction France has been ruled by such ignorant monarchs, of truth. Louis Philippe is talkative, and that it is its present honor to have for king a man loves to dominate with the tongue. Moreof extensive knowledge, reading, and observation. over the king is unquiet. He is restless, Louis Philippe fascinates those presented to him: speaks English to English, German to German. No always revolving some scheme. And the books, no names, no ideas, have escaped his observ- great complaint that his ministers have of ation. He reads all, even to scientific and statisti-him is, that he will not let well alone. But cal ones, and is better acquainted with the rising his activity seldom ascends to the higher talent of the country than his minister. He can region of politics: being generally the converse with every one on his own subject, and talks on without suffering rejoinder or interruption. Louis Philippe is not one of the Talleyrand school, which considers speech as given to disguise thought. On the contrary, he thinks speech given in order to excite thought. He thinks aloud, and lives externally. He cannot bear to be alone, but seeks for applause and echo. Intellectual cultivation, good nature, and indiscretion are so mixed up in him, that one does not know which predomi nates. But far from being reserved, he is open; far from being silent, he is talkative; and far from being independent, he leans upon every one for support." anxiety of a good father of a family to better his condition, increase his estate, and swell his purse. Heaven help the Intendant of his Civil List! none but a man so patient and devoted as he that now holds it, could stand the worry of that office. Appanage, dotations, forests to cut or to buy, the marriage of his children—all family points make the king as active as if he had just made the family fortune in trade, and as if he had to found and regulate the future prospects and honors of the family for centuries. Such is the restlessness of the King of the French. In order to escape the charge of impertinence, this contradiction of every precon- Another quality that Gutzkow attributes ceived opinion ought to have been written to him is want of independence, and a leanby some intimate of his French Majesty, ing on others' opinions. This is altogether and not by a young foreign traveller, who a mistake. One characteristic of his will spends a month in Paris, and never sets his suffice to prove it. And this, that Louis foot at court. Gutzkow is, however, not Philippe never made friend or intimate of a all wrong. He has heard people talk, who man of talent. He detested Perier, he deevidently knew Louis Philippe well. But tests De Broglie, Thiers, Guizot, every he has jumbled up and exaggerated their one that could pretend to impose an opinremarks and information into a mass of in-ion on him. His favorites are such men as manner. Thiers's is a Corsican nature. The Montalivet: : men incapable of either having | Whether Thiers got from his historic studies the systems of their own, or of even divining trick of imitating Napoleon or not, I do not know; the king's. No: Louis Philippe mentally but there is certainly a resemblance in figure and never leaned upon any one. And he has had form of the head and chin are Napoleonite, as are most able men as cabinet ministers, as minis- the sharp eyes and thin gray hairs. ters of foreign affairs, for years, who do not stature, Thiers must look up to every one he adyet know what exactly were his aims or his dresses, and so he likes to throw himself back in wishes. So much for the indiscretion of an arm-chair, and address those who gather round his majesty Louis Philippe. him. He has no ministerial solemnity, but remains natural and good-natured in manuer." It is difficult to say whether Gutzkow was more stricken with M. Thiers or George Sand. He called on the latter personage in the evening, at her lodgings in the Rue Pigale, and was received in a little room ten feet square, called the Little Chapel. The " nearer the church," says the proverb. Small of The argument turned on languages. Gutzkow mentioned the unfitness of the German for either political eloquence or history. "It will become fit for both," said Thiers, "as soon as Germany has free political institutions. Machiavel and De Thou have both historical styles, and would have had in any language, simply because they were statesmen." Gutzkow here instanced Justus Moeser, as a German who had a genuine historical style. "You have been but a short time in Germany," said Gutzkow to Thiers. "I only wanted to visit the celebrated battle-fields," was the reply. There was little or no light; Madame Sand and her daughter in that light; and two gentlemen altogether in the background and in silence, which they preserved. Madame Sand complained of being engaged in law, divers people menacing her with contrainte par corps, unless she wrote them a novel. They talked of the drama. Gutzkow said they had as much dramatic talent in Germany, but not such accomplished specialties. The German added, that he had been to a French tragedy once, but never should go again. George Sand what neither our princes nor our chambers could admitted that French tragedy was antiqua-effect-that you have done for us. You have awakened the Germans to political unity." ted, and all its present writers, except Scribe, common-place. "Here," says Gutzkow, "she left her work and lit a cigarette, in which there was more paper than tobacco, and more coquetterie than emancipation of the female sex. 'Who is my translator into German?' asked she. 'Fanny Tarnow,' I said. 'I suppose she leaves out the immoral passages?' said Madame Sand, with irony. I did not reply, but looked at her daughter, who held down her head. A pause ensued of a second, but there was a great deal in that second.' So much for George Sand and "Young Germany." We will now collect what he says of Thiers. "It suprised me much to find that Thiers did not owe his rise either to fortune or to his own genius, but merely to his talent for speaking. The external physiognomy of the chamber evinces lightness and superficiality. I could not at first believe that this betokened true; but Thiers himselt told me that the surest mode of ruling the chamber was to amuse it, and that what members dreaded most was ennui. This is the secret of Thiers's eloquence; he amuses. It is not the fiery power of eloquer ce, nor the genius of the statesman that have thrust Thiers up into his palace of the Place St. Georges. It is his talent, which in, France is ever more fortunate than genius. Thiers, receives every evening. Mignet is always there. Madame Dosne and her daughter do the honors. "Ay, thought I, it is these thoughts that made you set Europe in commotion, and stir up the French to revenge 1815, and Moscow, and Leipsic, and Waterloo. And I added aloud to Thiers, • What we, Germans, could not do for ourselves— 66 Thiers replied to Gutzkow, that he respected the independence of the Germans. Napoleon's wars were forced on him from Neither of these within and from without. necessities pressed now. All that France wanted was to be independent and influential, and neither Russia nor England was prepared to allow her the due quantum of both. There was the Turkish empire dying, and when it went, France must have her finger in the pie as well as Russia and crisis, and Austria to England, then France England. If Prussia held to Russia in that was their enemy, and would turn the world upside down." Upon this, Gutzkow says, he immediately assured M. Thiers, "That the present movement of the Germans was more national than liberal. We want unity, and will have it. We want not to quarrel with Eugland or with Russia, but we want to do without any alliance. Prussia and Austria must make good, what the thirty years' war and the seven years' war broke up. Prussia and Austria separated in Ratisbon, but must come together in Frankfort. Let them unite, and we want neither Russia nor England. And your Napoleons had better don the civic mantle than the military riding-coat. The French would then have neither need nor excuse to cry out, "Let us set the world upside down." Gutzkow, however, is much more at home | pulation of French towns, he says, consists with poets, critics, and dramatists, than of full-grown persons, whereas in Germany with politicians. And he has sketched his half the population consists of children. French brethren of the pen with equal The explanation of this does not improve freedom from George Sand in her chapel the French in the German estimation; it twelve feet square, to Jules Janin, in his being, that French, and especially Parisian splendid garret overlooking the Luxem- women, universally pack off their children bourg, making love to his wife. The Ger- to nurse, and often to starve and perish. man has crayoned all. He is like the Enfant This is the habit, not merely of the higher Terrible of the caricature: speaking out but of the middle and poorer classes. Gutzall he sees and knows and guesses, with in- kow attributes it to want of heart: but the fantine malice, and trundling his hoop real cause is, that French women take as against the shins of all his acquaintance. much part in the business of life, especially We are glad he did not visit England, for of retail trade, as men; and consequently this representative of Young Germany has have not time to devote exclusively to a a monstrous love of sunshine and summer, mother's task. of the gay, the pleasurable, and the social. But French character, habits, and emiNow in England an idle visitor does not nent men in letters and politics, form an find these easily; and a few weeks on the ample field, not to be comprised in a tour banks of the Thames is apt to send the soli- or a book, nor exhausted in an article. tary wanderer back with aversion and Herr Gutzkow has but sketched superdisgust to us insulars. Thus Henry Heine, ficialities, and we have followed his beethe other day, went to enjoy sea-breezes like flutter through the Parisian world: and study English character at Boulogne bee-like, indeed, for while he culled sweets, He found a gay, proud set of demi-fash- he has left stings. When we meet with a ionables, who had never heard of Henry more profound or more conscientious tourHeine, who took him in consequence for a ist, we shall be glad ourselves to return common-place personage without livery more seriously to the subject. servants and coach and pair, and treated him de haut en bas. Poor Henry Heine was so susceptible and so indignant at all this, that he has become a decided foe to England and her inhabitants! He is a writer for the Augsburg Gazette, and therein has just published the most violent diatribes against our grasping, haughty, mercantile, intoler ant, and abominable spirit. In short, he joins the French cry of Delenda est Carthago, setting us down for Carthage. For these reasons we sincerely hope, that Young Germany may stay away from us, till he acquires less susceptibility, with more years, sense, and discretion. Since this was written, we have received, no to place by the side of the German Gutzkow, another description of Paris, by a and the best pencil in it. And the best combination of one of the liveliest pens pencil has done its duty well. Lami's sketches are admirable: as they were doubt intended, the chief attraction of the work. We cannot say as much of M. Janin's prose written in the character of an American: though a greater contrast to Jonathan than Jules Janin could not well be found. We dare say that in its original French his descriptive work was lively and interesting, and well-written. But most certainly in its translation it is dull, commonplace, awkward, and altogether illegible. is human or has a heart, says Gutzkow, Janin's quips and cranks are completely Nor do we blame the translator; for Jules who does not laugh or betray feeling by auntranslatable. And though certainly knowsmile. The tragedian might reply, that Gutzkow is very severe upon Rachel, but seems to have taken his opinions respecting her solely from Janin. He bitterly complains of her never laughing. No one the parts of Corneille's and Racine's hero-ing Paris intimately, Janin knows no tongue ines are no laughing matter. But the or train of ideas at all capable of translation German critic calls the French actress (in Even his anecdotes into sober English. our opinion, a woman of decided genius), his tale, if he has one, is sure to evaporate are stale, his points flat, and the moral of stiff, made of pale bronze, without feminine softness, passion, or gemuth. He goes fur and disappear before it has been told. ther than Janin taught him, however. For M. Janin had heard, no doubt, of English he extends this sweeping censure to the humor, and thought it necessary to write French in general. humorously for the British public. But He asks, how is it, that there are so few children in the streets of Paris? The po The American in Paris. By Jules Janin. Illustrated by Eugene Lam i. London: 1843. In order not to seem a Frenchman, Janin falls to abusing cafe au lait : maligning one of the best things in Paris, whilst he falls on his knees in adoration of some of the worst. After puffing the west hotels and the west restaurants, adulating every thing fine and courtly, M. Janin visits the Chamber of Deputies, and bursts into a panegyric of M. Berryer, not undeserved. He also dwells on Dupin, by no means ill depicting him. the attempt is ludicrous, not humorous. I speaking to the crowd, and of saying very often Thus he begins by talking of that rascal, by means of a representation, severe truths, Sterne, and thinks the word most happily which the audience alone discovers, and which Then escape all the sagacity of the censors. applied. tion necessary for the new enterprise; he at once came M. Scribe. He had all the wit and invenunderstood that he could not carry his comedy back into former times, and yet that he could not leave it among the people. He therefore chose an intermediate world, a neutral ground, the Chaussée d'Antin, and finance; for, after all, every body stands a chance of becoming as rich and the grocer of despised family may make their as M. Rothschild. The marquis of ancient date fortunes in twenty-four hours, so that each could say, while beholding this new dominion of comedy, 'I shall perhaps enter there some day!' The account of Louis Philippe is not Placed on this rich territory, of which he was uninteresting, as it gives plian facts and cir. the Christopher Columbus, M. Scribe gave himcumstances, however small. It dwells on suited his purpose admirably. The simple seself up at his ease to this paradox, which has his majesty's horror of tobaco and love of cret of his success has consisted in taking exactwax-lights. It might have dwelt on his ly the opposite of the comedies written before love of English comforts, and on the quar- him. There was a comedy of Voltaire's, called rel between him and the old Bourbons on 'Nanine.' This Nanine, a girl of no birth, the subject of certain matters of domestic marries a great lord, and is happy. M. Scribe Neither Louis XVIII. nor takes in hand the defence of the opposite opinconvenience. Where Jules Janin is most at home, however, is behind and before the scenes of a theatre. He is the sublimely impertinent of dramatic criticism, and rules over the coulisses with a despotism that makes even poor Rachel tremble. The best portion of his book is his account of Scribe the great comic writer. This we shall at once transfer to our page. Charles X. would admit any vulgar innova-ion, and writes the Marriage de Raison, to prove that the son of a general would be very foolish tions of building into the royal palaces; to marry the daughter of a soldier. In the Prewhilst Louis Philippe would inhabit no mières Amours, M. Scribe ridicules all the fine, palace on the old system, refusing to enter sweet sentiments of youth, with which so many the Tuileries till arranged with comforts pretty comedies have been composed. The and innovations. This is considered by the Demoiselle à marier is never so charming, as old court one of Louis Philippe's revolu- when she has no thought of marriage. Le plus beau Jour de la Vie is full of torments and misetionary crimes. ries. And it is always thus. When he has a comedy to write, this original man takes up the side of long-established truth. In case of need, he would undertake to defend, not the Misanthrope, which Fabre d'Eglantine has done before him, but even the Tartuffe. Thanks to this inthe persons of his comedy, M. Scribe has disgenious subversion of the action, the story, and covered the art of making his audience attentive. And as, besides, he writes quite simply, without knowing how to write; as his dialogues are full of ordinary genius; as, with all his wit, he is "Just before reaching the Porte St. Denis, is not more witty than the rest of the world; the the Gymnase Dramatique; a delightful little most complete success has attended this happy theatre, which M. Scribe and the Duchess de man. He has at once attained that popularity Berri raised between them. In this small enclo- which is least contested and least contestable in sure are performed comedies which represent France; he has been, at the same time, celethe slightest accidents of every-day life. When brated and rich. The Duchess de Berri adoptM. Scribe, the greatest amuser of the age, com- ed him as her poet, and the Gymnase, sustained menced this undertaking, there seemed no scope by clever comedians, made expressly for this for comedy anywhere. Molière, like a sovereign | comedy, finished by replacing the Théâtre Franmaster, had taken possession of all the great cais. The success of M. Scribe lasted as long characters; he had worked the whole of huma- as the Restoration. But the Revolution of July nity for his own benefit; there was not a vice came: immediately the Théâtre de Madame nor an absurdity which had not been submitted was nothing more than the Gymnase Dramato the censure and the rod of this illustrious ge- tique. The box in which the amiable princess nius. After him others had arisen: Lachaussée, so often appeared, that royal box into which it for example, who had made comedy weep; was a great honor to be admitted, was empty. Beaumarchais, who had taken it on to political Then M. Scribe, faithless as the bird whose ground; Marivaux, the comic poet of the ruelles nest is destroyed, fled elsewhere. The Théâand the boudoirs: these passed.-Comedy had tre Français, which he had so roughly opposed, become silent, like all the rest. Inventors were eagerly opened its doors to the Chalderon of contented with imitating masters. The Empe- 1830. Then M. Scribe composed vaudevilles in ror Napoleon did not encourage this method of five acts, and without couplets, which the at Goritz." Théâtre Français calls comedies. At the same the idea of selecting and translating some time the Opera and the Opera Comique secured of the ancient charters and documents relathe illustrious inventor: Meyerbeer and Auber tive to religious foundations, one of which would have no poetry but his to the former he I now offer to you. Commencing with that gave Robert le Diable, to the latter the Domino Noir. As for the Gymnase, when it found itself to which Mr. Hunter has referred, I propose, left to its own strength, it dispensed most easily should it prove interesting, to follow it up with its poet. The spirit of the masters had re- with a few other specimens, varying, as mained everywhere, within the walls, and on the much as may be, in their character and outside of the walls. Bouffé, that excellent co- incidents. The charters will by this means, median, who had never been in the school of I trust, become interesting to the general Scribe, set himself seriously to work, to play reader, while for those who care to pursue comedies which were almost serious. Thus every one went on the Gymnase without M. the subject further, they will tend to illusScribe,-M. Scribe without the Gymnase: only, trate the motives by which the founders of as it is not right that every thing should succeed religious houses were actuated, the spirit with ungrateful men, M. Scribe was obliged to in which the monks entered upon their new enter the French Academy, where he pronounc- abodes, and the prevailing temper and chared a discourse in M. de Bouffon's style. Thus was her Royal Highness the Duchess de Berri acter of the period during which such houses avenged! Assuredly M. Scribe would not be were chiefly founded. In England, this in the Academy, if his first protectress was not period extended from the Norman conquest in 1060, to the year 1216, witnessing, durAnd here we have done with Jules ing its continuance, the foundation of about 350 monasteries, five sevenths (that is) of Janin. It is all very well to employ foreign the whole number dissolved by Henry VIII.* writers to draw up histories of their own These charters are likewise calculated to country, to sketch the state of politics, of throw light on several collateral points, legal letters, of the arts. But merely to give a and historical, and each reader will probably view of the exterior appearance and sights find the number of these increase in proof Paris, or any foreign capital, with portion to the degree of previous knowsketches of its society, for this any Eng-edge which he brings with him to their lish writer would have been much prefera- perusal. ble. For not only has M. Janin been unable to discern round his own home what is these subjects than myself, the following common-place and what is not; but he has document throws light, for instance, on the written in a current and capricious style character of William I. and on the mode in which defies translation, and which, how- which, during the period referred to, tithes ever good in French, is downright trash in were allotted by the Lords of the Soil, not English. And a letter-press thus disgraces, uniformly to the parish church, but to such instead of explaining or illustrating, the religious objects, parochial or otherwise, as very beautiful prints which accompany it. We have never seen a happier specimen vice. I will draw attention to these points they thought most beneficial for God's serthan in this book, of French design ex-in my notes to the translation, and only pressed by English graver. Even to one not more conversant with preface it further by a short notice of those whose names it introduces to the reader. William de Warren was one of the Norman Earls who came over with the Conqueror, and Gundreda, his wife, was the ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE FOUNDATION Conqueror's daughter. De Warren bore OF RELIGIOUS HOUSES. the title of Earl in Normandy, and received were taken towards the establishment of * Anderson's Hist. of Commerce, II. 41. |