tention, and interfere much less with the happiness, of the majority
of the French than of the English. There is less anxiety about public
measures, and less gratitude for public services. We were often
surprised at the indifference of the citizens of Paris with regard to
their Marshals, whom they seldom knew by name, and did not seem to care
for knowing. The peroration of an old lady, who had delivered a long
speech to a friend of ours, then a prisoner at Verdun, lamenting the
reverses of the French arms, and the miseries of France, was
characteristic of the nation: "Mais, ce m'est egal. Je suis toujours ici."

It is quite unnecessary for us to give proofs of the laxity of _moral
principle_ which prevails so generally among the French. The world has
not now to learn, that notwithstanding their high professions, they have
but little regard either for truth or morality. According to Mr Scott,
"they have, in a great measure, detached words from ideas and feelings;
they can, therefore, afford to be unusually profuse of the better sort
of the first; and they experience as much internal satisfaction and
pride when they profess a virtue, as if they had practised one." Perhaps
it would be more correct to say, that they have detached ideas and
feelings from their corresponding actions. Their feelings have always
been too violent for the moment, and too short in their duration, to
influence their conduct steadily and permanently; but at present, they
seem much disposed to think, that it is quite enough to have the
feelings, and that there is no occasion for their conduct being
influenced by them at all.

They appear to have a strong natural sense of the beauty and excellence
of virtue; but they are accustomed to regard it merely as a sense. It
does not regulate their conduct to others, but adds to their own selfish
enjoyments. They speak of virtue almost uniformly, not as an object of
rational approbation and imitation, and still less as a rule of moral
obligation, but as a matter of _feeling and taste_. A French officer,
who describes to you, in the liveliest manner, and with all the
appearance of unfeigned sympathy, the miseries and devastations
occasioned by his countrymen among the unoffending inhabitants of
foreign states, proceeds, in the same breath, to declaim with
enthusiastic admiration on the untarnished honour of the French arms,
and the great mind of the Emperor. A Parisian tradesman, who goes to the
theatre that h