ty of the audience; and, though
the period represented is that of the _Fronde_, the acts of the rabble
strongly assimilated with those of the same class in later times, when
the revolution let loose on hapless France the worst of all tyrants--a
reckless and sanguinary mob. I cannot help feeling alarmed at the
consequences likely to result from such performances. Sparks of fire
flung among gunpowder are not more dangerous. Shewing a populace what
they can effect by brutal force is a dangerous experiment; it is like
letting a tame lion see how easily he could overpower his keepers.

Mr. Cuthbert and M. Charles Laffitte dined here yesterday. Both are
excellent specimens of their countries; the former being well-informed
and agreeable, and the latter possessing all the good sense we believe
to be peculiar to an Englishman, with the high breeding that appertains
to a thoroughly well-educated Frenchman.

The advance of civilization was evident in both these gentlemen--the
Englishman speaking French with purity and fluency, and the Frenchman
speaking English like a born Briton. Twenty years ago, this would have
been considered a very rare occurrence, while now it excites little
remark. But it is not alone the languages of the different countries
that Mr. Cuthbert and M. Charles Laffitte have acquired, for both are
well acquainted with the literature of each, which renders their
society very agreeable.

Spent last evening in the Rue d'Anjou, where I met Lady Combermere, the
Dowager Lady Hawarden, and Mrs. Masters. Lady Combermere is lively and
agreeable, _un peu romanesque_, which gives great originality to her
conversation, and sings Mrs. Arkwright's beautiful ballads with great
feeling.

Mr. Charles Grant[4] dined here yesterday. He is a very sensible man,
possessing a vast fund of general information, with gentle and
highly-polished manners. What a charm there is in agreeable manners,
and how soon one feels at ease with those who possess them!

Spent, or mis-spent, a great portion of the day in visiting the
curiosity shops on the _Quai Voltaire_, and came away from them with a
lighter purse than I entered. There is no resisting, at least I find it
so, the exquisite _porcelaine de Sevres_, off which the dainty dames of
the reign of Louis the Fourteenth feasted, or which held their
_bouquets_, or _pot pourri_. An _etui of_ gold set with oriental agates
and brilliants, and a _flacon_ of rock crystal, both of which once
ap