; had he
endeavoured to please, perhaps he would have succeeded, but the least
exertion or restraint was torture to him, as to most fat persons. He
found it irksome to go into society, because there the manner of one's
reception depends on the efforts one makes to please. A rude joviality
suited him better than refined amusements; to distinguish himself
amongst persons of a similar taste to his own, he had only to talk and
laugh louder than his companions--and that he did without trouble, for
his lungs were remarkably vigorous. He also prided himself on drinking
more champagne than most men could support, and on leaping his horse
over a four-foot wall in true sporting style. To these various
accomplishments he was indebted for the friendship and esteem of the
indefinable class of beings known as 'young men,' who swarm upon our
_boulevards_ towards eight in the evening. Shooting parties, country
excursions, races, bachelors' dinners and suppers, were his favourite
pastimes. Twenty times a-day he declared himself the happiest of
mortals; and when Julie heard the declaration, she cast her eyes to
heaven, and her little mouth assumed an expression of indescribable
contempt."

We turn to another of M. Merimee's books, in our opinion his best, an
historical romance, entitled 1572, a "Chronicle of the Reign of Charles
the Ninth." "In history," says the author in his preface, "I care only
for the anecdotes, and prefer those in which I fancy I discover a true
picture of the manners and characters of a particular period. This is
not a very elevated taste; but I own, to my shame, that I would
willingly give the whole of Thucydides for an authentic memoir of
Aspasia, or of one of Pericles' slaves. Memoirs, the familiar gossip of
an author with his reader, alone supply those individual portraits that
amuse and interest me. It is not from Mezerai, but from Montlue,
Brantome, D'Aubigne, Tavannes, La Noue, &c., that one forms a just idea
of the French of the sixteenth century. From the style of those
contemporary authors, we learn as much as from the substance of their
narratives. In L'Estoile, for instance, I read the following concise
note. 'The demoiselle de Chateau-neuf, one of the king's _mignonnes_,
before he went to Poland, having espoused, _par amourettes_, the
Florentine Antinotti, officer of the galleys at Marseilles, and
detecting him in an intrigue, slew him stoutly with her own hand.' By
the help of this anecdote, and of