At that time, (1801,) the habits of good company were not yet extinct in Paris; of the old company of France, and not of what is now termed good company, and which prevailed 30 years ago only among postilions and stable-boys.  At that period, men of good birth did not smoke in the apartments of their wives, because they felt it to be a dirty and disgusting practice; they generally washed their hands; when they went out to dine, or to pass the evening in a house of their acquaintance, they bowed to the lady at its head in entering and retiring, and did not appear so abstracted in their thoughts as to behave as they would have done in an hotel.  They were then careful not to turn their back on those with whom they conversed, so as to show only an ear or the point of a nose to those whom they addressed.  They spoke of something else, besides those eternal politics on which no two can ever agree, and which give occasion only to the interchange of bitter expressions.  There has sprung from these endless disputes, disunion in families, the dissolution of the oldest friendships, and the growth of hatred which will continue till the grave.  Experience proves that in these contests no one is ever convinced, and that each goes away more than ever persuaded of the truth of his own opinions.

The customs of the world now give me nothing but pain.  From the bosom of the retirement where I have been secluded for these 15 years, I can judge, without prepossession, of the extraordinary revolution in manners which has lately taken place.  Old impressions are replaced, it is said, by new ones; that is all.  Are, then, the new ones superior?  I cannot believe it.  Morality itself is rapidly undergoing dissolution—­every character is contaminated, and no one knows from whence the poison is inhaled.  Young men now lounge away their evenings in the box of a theatre, or the Boulevards, or carry on elegant conversation with a fair seller of gloves and perfumery, make compliments on her lily and vermilion cheeks, and present her with a cheap ring, accompanied with a gross and indelicate compliment.  Society is so disunited, that it is daily becoming more vulgar, in the literal sense of the word.  Whence any improvement is to arise, God only knows.

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THE GATHERER.

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CURRAN AND THE MASTIFF.

Curran told me, with infinite humour of an adventure between him and a mastiff when he was a boy.  He had heard somebody say that any person throwing the skirts of his coat over his head, stooping low, holding out his arms and creeping along backward, might frighten the fiercest dog and put him to flight.  He accordingly made the attempt on a miller’s animal in the neighbourhood, who would never let the boys rob the orchard; but found to his sorrow that he had a dog to deal with who did not