You may form some idea, on the other hand, of the perfect simplicity and good taste that prevails in French society, by a little occurrence on the day just mentioned.  A gentleman, of singularly forbidding countenance, sat next us; and, in the course of the conversation, he mentioned the fact that he had once passed a year in New York, of which place he conversed with interest and vivacity.  B——­ was anxious to know who this gentleman might be.  I could only say that he was a man of great acuteness and knowledge, whom I had often met in society, but, as to his name, I did not remember ever to have heard it.  He had always conducted himself in the simple manner that he witnessed, and it was my impression that he was the private secretary of the master of the house, who was a dignitary of the state, for I had often met him at the same table.  Here the matter rested for a few days.

The following week we removed into the Rue St. Dominique.  Directly opposite to the porte-cochere of our hotel was the porte-cochere of an hotel that had once belonged to the Princes of Conti.  A day or two after the removal, I saw the unknown gentleman coming out of the gateway opposite, as I was about to enter our own.  He bowed, saluted me by name, and passed on.  Believing this a good occasion to ascertain who he was, I crossed the street, and asked the porter for the name of the gentleman who had just gone out.  “Mais, c’est Monsieur le Duc!” “Duke!—­what Duke?” “Why, Monsieur le Duc de Valmy, the proprietor of this hotel!” It was the younger Kellerman, the hero of Marengo![6]

[Footnote 6:  He is since dead.]

But I could fill volumes with anecdotes of a similar nature; for, in these countries, in which men of illustrious deeds abound, one is never disturbed in society by the fussy pretension and swagger that is apt to mark the presence of a lucky speculator in the stocks.  Battles, unlike bargains, are rarely discussed in society.  I have already told you how little sensation is produced in Paris by the presence of a celebrity, though in no part of the world is more delicate respect paid to those who have earned renown, whether in letters, arts, or arms.  Like causes, however, notoriously produce like effects; and, I think, under the new regime, which is purely a money-power system, directed by a mind whose ambition is wealth, that one really meets here more of that swagger of stocks and lucky speculations, in the world, than was formerly the case.  Society is decidedly less graceful, more care-worn, and of a worse tone to-day, than it was previously to the revolution of 1830.  I presume the elements are unchanged, but the ebullition of the times is throwing the scum to the surface; a natural but temporary consequence of the present state of things.