s a scene
which excited feelings of respect for a nation which thus patronised
everything which could add to the rational improvement of its members.
Were France the seat of religion and pure virtue it would be Utopia
verified; but, alas! there are spots which stain the picture and cast a
balance decidedly in favour of England: we are rough, we are
narrow-minded, but he who travels is brought to confess and say
"England! with all thy faults I love thee still." ...

LETTER V.

PARIS, _July 10th_.

Madame de Staels party formed a fine contrast to the gloom and
ponderosity of Sir Charles Stuart's dinner the day before. We went a
quarter before nine, thinking, as it was the nominal hour, it would be
ill-bred to go too early, but the French are more punctual in these
matters, for we found the good people all assembled and Marmont[49]
walked out not five minutes before we walked in.

In his stead we had General Lafayette,[50] the cornerstone of the
Revolution. He is a tall, clumsy-made man, not much unlike Dr.
Nightingale, tho' rather thinner. His countenance discovers thought and
sound judgment, but by no means quickness or brilliancy; his manners
were quiet, unassuming, and gentleman-like. He spoke little, and then
said nothing particularly worth notice.

The next lion announced was a lioness, the celebrated Madame
Recamier,[51] and though she is not in her premiere jeunesse, I can
easily conceive how she could once dazzle the world. It would be too
much to give her credit for superior talents, but her manners were very
agreeable tho' rather like all other belles of France who have fallen in
my way, somewhat a la languissante. But I am all this while forgetting
the star of the evening, the Baroness herself. She sat in a line with
about six ladies, before whom were arranged as many gentlemen, all
listening to the oracular tongue of their political Sybil.

She was in high spirits because she had been warmed up by the decision
of the court and commons concerning the liberty of the press, which had
received an effectual check by limiting all liberty of speech and
opinion to works containing not less than 480 pages, thus excluding the
papers and pamphlets. The moment we were announced, before she asked me
how I did, she enquired whether I had heard this notable decision, and
then demanded what I thought of it. Of course, I assured her how much I
lamented the prospect of an inundation of dull, prolix books to which
Fran