“You are perfectly right,” said he, “in desiring to see the Continent; and in Paris you will find the Continent all gathered into a glance, as a French cook gives you a dozen sauces in compounding one fricassee.  It happens, curiously enough, that I can just now furnish you with some opportunities for seeing it in the most convenient manner.  A person with whom I have had occasional business in Downing Street, has applied to me to name an individual in my confidence, as an attache to our embassy in France, though, be it understood, without an actual appointment.”

I started at this dubious diplomacy.

“This,” said he, “only shows that you have still to learn the trade.  Let me then tell you, that it is by such persons that all the real work of diplomacy is carried on.  Can you suppose that the perfumed and polished young gentlemen who, under the name of secretaries and sub secretaries, superior and inferior attaches, and so forth, haunt the hotels of the embassy, are the real instruments?  It is true, they are necessary to the dinners and balls of the embassy.  They are useful to drive out the ambassador’s horses to air, escort his wife, and dance with his daughters.  But the business is uniformly done by somebody of whom nobody knows any thing, but that he is never seen loitering about the ambassador’s drawing-room though he has the entree of his closet; and that he never makes charades, though he corresponds from day to day with the government at home.  Of course you will accept the appointment—­and now, let me give you your credentials.”

He unlocked a cabinet, which, except for its dust and the coating of cobwebs which time had wrought upon it, might have figured in the saloons of the Medici.  The succession of springs which he touched, and of secret drawers which started at the touch, might have supplied a little history of Italian intrigue.  At last he found the roll of papers which he sought, and having first thrown a glance round the room, as if a spy sat on every chair, he began to unroll them; with a rapid criticism on each as the few first lines met his eye.  Every nerve of his countenance was in full play as he looked over those specimens of the wisdom of the wise; It would have been an invaluable study to a Laveter.  He had evidently almost forgotten that I was present; and the alternate ridicule and disdain of his powerful physiognomy were assisted, in my comprehension, by notes from time to time—­certainly the antipodes of flattery—­“paltry knave”—­“pompous fool”—­“specious swindler.”  “Ambassador! ay, if we were to send one to a nation of baboons.”  “Here,” said he, throwing, the bundle on the table, “if I did not despise mankind enough already, I have sufficient evidence to throng the pillory.  I deal in gold; well, it is only such that can know the world.  Hate, ambition, religion—­all have their hypocrisies; but money applies the thumbscrew to them all.  Want, sir, want, is the master of mankind.  There have been men—­ay, and women too—­within this dungeon, as you think it, whose names would astonish you.  Oh!  Father Abraham”—­