there was a fine pyramid of fruit. Rousseau
in helping himself took the peach which formed the base of the
pyramid, and the rest fell immediately. "Rousseau," said she, "that
is what you always do with all our systems; you pull down with a
single touch; but who will build up what you pull down?" I asked if
he was grateful for all the kindness shown to him. "No, he was
ungrateful; he had a thousand bad qualities, but I turned my
attention from them to his genius and the good he had done
mankind."

La Harpe was visited in his own home:--

He lives in a wretched house, and we went up dirty stairs, through
dirty passages, where I wondered how fine ladies' trains and noses
could go; and were received in a dark, small den by the
philosopher, or rather _devot_, for he spurns the name of
philosopher. He was in a dirty, reddish night-gown, and very dirty
night-cap bound round the forehead with a superlatively dirty,
chocolate-colored ribbon. Madame Recamier, the beautiful, the
elegant, robed in white satin, trimmed with white fur, seated
herself on the elbow of his arm-chair, and besought him to repeat
his verses. Charlotte has drawn a picture of this scene.

An interesting visit was also paid to Madame de Genlis:--

She had previously written to say she would be glad to be
personally acquainted with Mr. and Miss Edgeworth. She lives--where
do you think?--where Sully used to live, at the Arsenal. Bonaparte
has given her apartments there. Now, I do not know what you imagine
in reading Sully's memoirs, but I always imagined that the Arsenal
was one large building with a facade to it, like a very large hotel
or a palace, and I fancied it was somewhere in the middle of Paris.
On the contrary, it is quite in the suburbs. We drove on and on,
and at last we came to a heavy archway, like what you see at the
entrance to a fortified town. We drove under it for the length of
three or four yards in total darkness, and then we found ourselves,
as well as we could see by the light of some dim lamps, in a large
square court surrounded by buildings: here we thought we were to
alight. No such thing: the coachman drove under another thick
archway, lighted at the entrance by a single lamp. We found
ourselves in another court, and still we went on, archway after
archway,