Romish superstition, under
the special protection of the Blessed Virgin, and in accordance with
custom clad him in the Madonna's livery of blue. His costume of a blue
smock, blue pantaloons, and a blue cap procured for him the name of
_Bleuet_, or, as we should perhaps say, Blueling, if indeed we may coin
for the occasion one of those familiar, affectionate diminutives, so
common in the Italian, rarer in the French, and almost unknown in our
masculine tongue. An only child, and an invalid, poor Bleuet was of
course a spoiled child, his mother's darling and pet. His wishes, his
sick-child's caprices were her law, and she gratified them at the cost
of many a secret privation. She seemed to know--maternal love hath often
the faculty of second-sight--that her poor boy, though only the child of
the humblest parentage, was destined to rise one day far above the
station in which he was born. She attired him better than children of
his class commonly dressed. She polished his manners as much as she
could,--and 'twas much, for women, even of the lowest classes, have
gentle tastes and delicacy. She could not bear to think that her darling
should one day sit cross-legged on the paternal bench, and ply needle
and scissors. She breathed her own aspirations into the boy's ears, and
filled his mind with them. O mothers, ye do make us what ye please! Your
tears and caresses are the rain and the sun that mature the seed which
time and the accidents of life sow in our tender minds! She filled him
with pride,--which is a cardinal virtue, let theologians say what they
will,--and kept him aloof from the little blackguards who toss and
tumble over the curb-stones, losing that dignity which is man's
chastity, and removing one barrier between them and crime.

He was, even in his earlier years, exquisitely sensitive. La Blache, the
famous singer, occupied a suite of rooms in the house of which his
father was porter. One day La Blache's daughter, (now Madame Thalberg,)
who was confined to her rooms by a fall which had dislocated her ankle,
sent for the sprightly lad. He was in love with her, just as boys will
adore a pretty face without counting years or differences of position
(at that happy age a statesman and a stage-driver seem equal,--if,
indeed, the latter does not appear to occupy the more enviable position
in life). He dressed himself with all the elegance he could command, and
obeyed Mademoiselle La Blache's summons, building all sorts