avourite plays are acted, that they know
almost every word of the principal scenes by heart. All their favourite
amusements are in some measure of a refined kind. It is not in drinking
clubs, or in sensual gratifications alone, that men of these ranks seek
for relaxation, as its too often the case with us; but it is in the
society of women, in conversation, in music and dancing, in theatres and
operas, and caffes and promenades, in seeing and being seen; in short,
in scenes resembling, as nearly as possible, those in which the higher
ranks of all nations spend their leisure hours.

While the useful arts are comparatively little advanced, those which
relate to ornaments alone are very generally superior to ours; and the
persons who profess these arts speak of them with a degree of fervour
that often seems ludicrous. "Monsieur," says a peruquier in the Palais
Royal, with the look of a man who lets you into a profound secret in
science, "Notre art est un art imitatif; en effet, c'est un des beaux
arts;" then taking up a London-made wig, and twirling it round on his
finger, with a look of ineffable contempt, "Celui ci n'est pas la belle
nature; mais voici la mienne,--c'est la nature personifiee!"

One of the best proofs of the tastes of the lower ranks being, at least
in part, cultivated and refined, is to be found in the songs which are
common among the peasantry and soldiers. There are a great number of
these, and some of them, in point of beauty of sentiment, and elegance
of expression, might challenge a comparison even with the admired
productions of our own land of song. The following is part of a song
which was written in April 1814, and set to the beautiful air of Charles
VII. It was popular among the description of persons to whom it relates;
and the young man from whom we got it had himself returned home, after
serving as a private in the young guard.

LE RETOUR DE L'AMANT FRANCAIS.

De bon coeur je pose les armes;
Adieu le tumulte des camps,
L'amitie m'offre d'autres charmes,
Au sein de mes joyeux parents;
Le Dieu des Amants me rapelle,
C'est pour m'enroler a son tour;
Et je vais aupres de ma belle,
Servir sous les lois de l'amour.

Aux noms d'honneur et de patrie,
On m'a vu braver le trepas;
Aujourd'hui pour charmer ma vie
La paix fait cesser les combats.
Le Dieu des Amants, &c.

After all that we had heard, and all that is known over the whole worl