ley gatherings at the Elysee-Bourbon, and at
the Hotel-de-Ville, especially in M. Grevy's time, though Mac-Mahon's
presidency offered some diverting specimens also; but I have never seen
anything like the social functions at the Palais-Bourbon during the
months of September, October, and November, 1848. They were absolutely
the festive scenes of Paul de Kock on a large scale, amidst Louis XIV.
and Louis XV. furniture, instead of the bourgeois mahogany, and with an
exquisitely artistic background, instead of the commonplace
paperhangings of the lower middle-class dwellings. The corps
diplomatique was virtually on the horns of a dilemma. After the
February revolution, the shock of which was felt throughout the whole of
Europe, and caused most of the sovereigns to shake on their thrones, it
had stood by M. de Lamartine, and even by his successor at the French
Foreign Office, M. Bastide, if not with enthusiasm, at least with a kind
of complacency. The republic proclaimed by the former, might, after all,
contain elements of vitality. The terrible disorders in June tended to
shake this reluctant confidence; still, there was but little change in
the ambassadors' outward attitude, until it became too evident that,
unless a strong dictator should intervene, mob rule was dangerously
nigh. Then the corps diplomatique began to hold aloof. Of course there
were exceptions, such as, for instance, Mr. Richard Rush, the minister
of the United States, who had been the first to congratulate the
Provisional Government, and the various representatives of the
South-American republics; but even the latter could scarcely refrain
from expressing their astonishment at the strange company in which they
found themselves. The women were perhaps the most remarkable, as women
generally are when out of their element. The greater part had probably
never been in a drawing-room before, and, notwithstanding M. Taine's
subsequently expressed dictum about the facility with which a Parisien
grisette, shopwoman, or lady's-maid may be transformed at a few moments
into a semblance of a _grande dame_, these very petites bourgeoises and
their demoiselles made a very indifferent show. Perhaps the grisette,
shopwoman, or lady's-maid would have acquitted herself better. Her
natural taste, sharpened by constant contact with her social superiors,
might have made up for the slender resources of her wardrobe; and, as
the French say, "one forgives much in the way of soleci