she cannot think of shutting him up in the petty provincial bourgs, Figeac, Cahors, Agen-bah! she has a soul above these hamlets to Paris he must go; there only can be find a theatre worthy of his acquirements. In an unlucky hour Nepomucene is mentioned by some neighbours who have seen him in Paris on friendly terms with influential people. His family were of that part of France; so the poor widow's imagination begins to seethe; by going back four or five generations, she convinces herself that if the great Nep. was not Lucien's uncle, he ought at least turn out his cousin, the removes being more or less distant. And now his influence is exaggerated by the Paris-visiting gossips: Nepomucene is the man-it is he that has the long arms-he only, sends the rain and the sunshinehe is gossip and crony with the ministers-his knife and fork are laid at the King's table-Vive le Grand Nepomucene. Had Nepomucene then appeared in the neighbourhood, his horses would been removed and his chariot drawn by the brawny arms of the rustics, but he suspects that he should in return bestow several Bureaus de tabac (in promises).

So our selfish Parisian receives a letter from the selfdenying widow, announcing her intention of consigning Lucien to his care on the strength of their relationship; and congratulating him on the credit his pupil will surely confer on him. The patron is vexed enough by the threatened boon; he can forgive the fall of a tile on his head, but that a man should descend on him unawares was not to be borne. He is going to return a civil but denegatory answer, when glancing at the postscript, confusion! he finds that his pupil is on the road, and will be under his charge next day. In due time he arrives, and is so chagrined by the cool reception he meets, that he is on the point of taking leave.

"Our connexion was about being dissolved; a singular circumstance prevented it. The young man had under his arm, a basket from which issued odours, about whose nature or origin I could not be deceived, and the chamber was filled with the perfume: it was a packet of truffles sent by Madame Merinval. Oh you widows! nothing escapes your penetration: well you know our feeble points: poor sainted mother, I forgive you ; but the accessory saved the principal. According as the odours expanded, I returned to better feelings; my native air seemed to environ me. The young man was already

on the lobby, but I detained him on some pretence, and we entered into conversation. From this first interview I entertained presentiments of his horoscope very different from those of his mother, and alas too well verified in the sequel.

A conscience and pure morals,' cried I as he departed to his lodgings, a dangerous baggage he cannot possibly succeed.""

The association so disagreeable at first becomes dear to the old gentleman. Before, his reign was solitary; now he has a thurifer to burn incense on the altar of his vanity. Then Lucien has as many gold pieces sewed in his waistcoat as will last for a year; moreover he is artless and goodnatured, a handsome brun, talented and patient of study, and calculated to reflect credit on his mentor.

Our young aspirant having changed his everlasting country garments for the products of a Paris Schneider, and being pretty comfortable as to his lodging and meals, his now strongly attached patron submits him to a moral analysis, and finds to his great chagrin that poor Lucien is afflicted with an extravagant veneration for literary celebrities of every kind; false gods and genuine deities being equally the object of his adoration. The drudgeries of the law he will not submit to; writing political articles for the journals, is his aim, and he diligently exercises himself in preparatory exercises on the current topics of the day, comparing them with the leaders of the chief papers, and naturally giving the preference to his own. Nepomucene had much influence with the powers of the press, but to get his protegée appointed on the staff of a periodical, he found to exceed his powers. Every office had its complement, and when he insinuated his wishes, he met with the same civility which is shewn by a dog in possession of a bone, when an acquaintance approaches him with his nose on the qui vive.

On Lucien repeating his earnest desire to look on the princes and princesses of glory, and to form their acquaintance; and requesting his patron's mediation

"Lucien,' said I, beware: you form an ill regulated wish; you desire to drink of the cup of disenchantment. How do you figure to yourself your ideals of these people? adorned with a profusion of graces, endowed with supernatural gifts. You paint them on your mental canvas, lyre in hand, laurel crown on forehead, and their figures draped in antique robes; or perhaps, with head inclined in

meditation, graving with stile on page of iron, salutary and everlasting maxims. These are the creatures of your dreams; unhappy youth, why not allow them to exist! Apply not to the countenances of these noble images, the vulgar mask of reality. You have demi. gods; why look for mortals-mortals who are never found without alloy. Viewed from near, Genius himself is deprived of rays. Approach your literary magnate: you expect to see rays darting from his eyes; what do you find? a pair of spectacles, perhaps a false front on those brows instead of lambent flame; not speaking of a squint in the eyes, a snub nose, or one high shoulder: these little inconveniences occur to the gifted as well as the vulgar portion of humanity. Conquer your curiosity; it will only lead to disappointment: antiquity was right in perching its heroes on the clouds.'

:

By such exhortations I sought to cool the heated brain of my friend without self-flattery, I may say that wisdom herself made use of my voice: well, well; I must avow that I did not meet with the success which I deserved. He pressed for introductions, I temporised, and hence, a series of little snares laid, and ambushes contrived.

One evening as we were strolling through the arcades of the Rue Rivoli, a female passed before us: it was only the apparition of a moment, from the carriage to the door of a hotel; nevertheless Lucien pressed my arm, uttered a cry of joy, and exclaimed, Countess of Mauleon.'

The

He had just pronounced a name celebrated on more than one account. I saw in the matter, only an accident of his abiding malady; nevertheless I asked where he had seen her. My question seemingly embarrassed him a little; and he made use of a subterfuge in asking me in turn, if he had said that he knew her. Without doubt,' said

I, we do not name people on sight without previous knowledge.' Bah!' said he, it is pure instinct.'"

The road to political eminence being closed, and the pursuit of law being distasteful, nothing remains but the thorny path of letters; and Nepomucene gives him his own ideas on points connected with this career.

"If possible be yourself; if you cannot, then follow the great writers: these are the two divisions of my discourse. Have genius if you can; if not, have talent at least: God gives one, the other we can obtain of ourselves.

In your provinces, my friend, you are partial to tinsel and Dutch metal; it is a peculiarity of primitive people: the Indian encumbers his nose and lips with rings; the Negro doats on glass beads; every one pursues his own penchant here below. You are fond of what sparkles and multiplies coloured images: take care; the sight is injured by excess of glitter and refraction."

Honest Nepomucene then alludes to the revolt against the monarchs of the ancient regime of letters conducted by Victor Hugo and the other Romanticists, which may be found in the early career of Jerome Paturot, and alludes to their short usurpation; and mentions with pity, the decadence and old age of the once effervescing mad spirits. Some have become reasonable and returned to the ancient standards, others have remained old boys, and their case is hopeless. He then mentions the system of a neutral party who by borrowing a strip of noble language from one, a colloquial style of wit from another, &c., have got on a new vesture for which though they owe nothing to any one in particular, they are in debt to the whole world. Next he directs his attention to the literature of the Regency.

"Are you curious in matters of the toilette? there you will find the patch, the hoop petticoat, the red high-heel shoe, pearl powder and what not. In other styles you have all nature at your command; the sun, the moon, the elements, twenty comedians of the first class, a full chorus, eight scenes newly touched up, and sixty tunics in real Tyrian purple. You need put no stint to your fantasy: cameo profiles, figurantes after the antique, frescoes of Herculaneum, Etruscan vases, trophies of arms, leopard skins, crested helms, all the bric-a-brac of the historic ages beginning with Nabuchodonosor. But with the Regency, venture on none of these properties, none whatever. Two personages and two screens; behold your resources: make the most of them you can. After all, the receipt is extant: nice little words, nice little phrases, nice little intrigues, nice little dénoûments: leave the rest to chance and the skill of the comedians."

The lecture continues, and the various high and by-ways of art are thrown open; and after passing the various schools in brief recapitulation before Lucien, he suddenly asks him to which of them he inclines; and the inattentive pupil half awaking from a reverie, involuntarily announces to his astonished tutor, his intention of entering the school of the Countess of Mauleon.

This second mention of the too celebrated Countess, between whom and George Sand we are inclined to detect a likeness, inquiets the poor guardian, and by dint of affected sympathy, and a promise of revealing his own early follies. some day, he induces Lucien to enter on a general confession.

* See IRISH QUARTERLY REVIEW, Vol., III., No. 11, p. 497.

"I was sixteen at my return from Cahors to my mother's house, and during the four months between my humanities and law studies, there was a complete void in my occupations. It was too much for an unquiet spirit like mine, on which labour alone could impose a salutary restraint. From submission to a strict regime I passed at once to an independence the most absolute, This contrast surprised and troubled me: it seemed as if the ground was going to glide from under my feet, and I was stretching out my hand to find some chance support.

In the first week I was drunk with liberty; I climbed the mountain at morn, and did not return till night; as if I wished to recover in one day, the air, the azure, the songs, the verdure, and the sunlight of the last six years. Then this liberty began to weigh on me from its very excess. My body found healthy employ; my soul began to lack nourishment; I began to regret my mental chain, and would have voluntarily resumed it: such is the human heart; it follows those things which it finds to be slipping away from it.

I should find out some occupation at any price; want of exercise hung on me like a funeral pall. Our house adjoined the presbytery, and the good Curé used often come and chat with my mother. He guessed at my complaint, and offered me the only remedy in his power, permission to make use of his library. The contents,' said he, are not very amusing, but they are calculated to instruct us how to make use of God's gifts in this life, so as to merit his rewards in the next. Sacred or profane, what did I care? It was an employment, a study. I welcomed the favor as a boon from heaven. Next day I was in the middle of the old books, and up to my eyes in theology; I did not understand all I read, but I had a book in my hands, and was satisfied. So the thing went on till I made a singular discovery one day when the Curé was on duty. I was on a scrutiny among the shelves to discover something more diverting than The Works of St. Anselm, or The Summa of St. Thomas, when in a corner I discovered carefully papered up, two volumes nicely bound, and having all the appearance of intruders-a romance in fact. You are not to form an unjust opinion of the good clergyman, my cousin ; these were spoils he had wrested from the demon, and having been overlooked, they were lying there on their road to the kitchen fire.

When the work touched my hands it seemed as if I was handling fire; when I read the name of the author, I felt something analogous to an electric shock. For fear of being interrupted, I carried away the fatal work,-fatal but immortal. I carefully kept it concealed, happy to touch it, and anticipating the enjoyment of the forbidden fruit; alas, we are all veritable children of Eve. When I found myself really alone, I began with eyes and ears on the strain, for fear of detection. I read on, line by line, page by page, and then commenced again, as you would drink some exquisite liquor, drop by drop, to enjoy the full savor and perfume. Twenty times I renewed the delightful task, till at last, every word remained on my