e vigorous, but
dangerous policy of that age, when, under the administration of
Richelieu, the power of the sovereign rose upon the ruins of the
aristocracy--when the institution of standing armies first began to be
systematically followed--and when, by the perfection of their police,
and that vilest of all inventions, their espionage, the comfort, the
security, and the confidence of society was destroyed, by the secret
influence of these poisonous and pensioned menials of government. In the
successful accomplishment of these three great objects, was involved the
destruction of that older state of France, which was to be seen under
Henry III. and IV. The schemes by which Richelieu succeeded in drawing
the nobility from the interior of the country to Paris, the style of
splendid living, sumptuous expences, and magnificent entertainments
which he introduced, produced two unhappy effects; it removed them from
their country seats, and forced them at the same time to drain their
estates, in order to defray their increasing expences in the capital. It
made them dependent in a great measure upon the crown; and thus tied
them down to Paris. On the other hand, by what has been termed his
_admirable_ police, by his encouragement to all informers, by the
jealousy of any thing like private intercourse, he rendered the
retirement of their homes, the fire-side of their families, instead of
that sacred spot, around which was once seated all the charities of
life, the very center of all that was hollow, gloomy, and suspicious. It
was in this manner that the French seem actually to have been driven
from the society of their families, to seek a kind of desperate solitude
in public; and that which was at first a necessity, has, in the progress
of time, become an established habit. But I have to apologise for
introducing, in a chapter of this light nature, and that perhaps in too
strong language, these vague conjectures upon so serious a subject as
this change in the condition of French society.

One necessary effect of the taste for publicity, formerly mentioned, is,
that in France every thing is in some way or other attempted to be made
a _spectacle_; and this favourite word itself has gradually grown into
such universal usage, that it has acquired such power over the minds of
all classes of the people, as to be hardly ever out of their mouths.
Whatever they are describing, be it grave or gay, serious or ludicrous,
a comedy or a tragedy,