in time of
life--addicted to silks and blondes, and well aware of their relative
prices.

Madame Craufurd is very amusing. With all the _naivete_ of a child, she
possesses a quick perception of character and a freshness of feeling
rarely found in a person of her advanced age, and her observations are
full of originality.

The tone of society at Paris is very agreeable. Literature, the fine
arts, and the general occurrences of the day, furnish the topics for
conversation, from which ill-natured remarks are exploded. A
ceremoniousness of manner, reminding one of _la Vieille Cour_, and
probably rendered _a la mode_ by the restoration of the Bourbons,
prevails; as well as a strict observance of deferential respect from
the men towards the women, while these last seem to assume that
superiority accorded to them in manner, if not entertained in fact, by
the sterner sex.

The attention paid by young men to old women in Parisian society is
very edifying, and any breach of it would be esteemed nothing short of
a crime. This attention is net evinced by any flattery, except the most
delicate--a profound silence when these belles of other days recount
anecdotes of their own times, or comment on the occurrences of ours, or
by an alacrity to perform the little services of picking up a fallen
_mouchoir de poche, bouquet_, or fan, placing a shawl, or handing to a
carriage.

If flirtations exist at Paris, they certainly are not exhibited in
public; and those between whom they are supposed to be established
observe a ceremonious decorum towards each other, well calculated to
throw discredit on the supposition. This appearance of reserve may be
termed hypocrisy; nevertheless, even the semblance of propriety is
advantageous to the interests of society; and the entire freedom from
those marked attentions, engrossing conversations, and from that
familiarity of manner often permitted in England, without even a
thought of evil on the part of the women who permit these
indiscretions, leaves to Parisian circles an air of greater dignity and
decorum, although I am not disposed to admit that the persons who
compose them really possess more dignity or decorum than my
compatriots.

Count Charles de Mornay was presented to me to-day. Having heard of him
only as--

"The glass of fashion and the mould of form,
The observed of all observers,"

I was agreeably surprised to find him one of the most witty,
well-informed, and agreeable