any
satisfactory reason for a man refusing to live upon the exercise of the
finer gifts of his intellect, and throwing himself for his bread upon
the daily performance of mere mechanical drudgery.

"Jasmin, as may be imagined, is well known in Agen. I was speedily
directed to his abode, near the open Place of the town, and within
earshot of the rush of the Garonne; and in a few moments I found
myself pausing before the lintel of the modest shop inscribed Jasmin,
Perruquier, Coiffeur des jeunes Gens. A little brass basin dangled above
the threshold; and looking through the glass I saw the master of the
establishment shaving a fat-faced neighbour. Now I had come to see and
pay my compliments to a poet, and there did appear to me to be something
strangely awkward and irresistibly ludicrous in having to address,
to some extent, in a literary and complimentary vein, an individual
actually engaged in so excessively prosaic and unelevated a species of
performance.

"I retreated, uncertain what to do, and waited outside until the shop
was clear. Three words explained the nature of my visit, and Jasmin
received me with a species of warm courtesy, which was very peculiar and
very charming; dashing at once, with the most clattering volubility and
fiery speed of tongue, into a sort of rhapsodical discourse upon poetry
in general, and the patois of it, spoken in Languedoc, Provence, and
Gascony in particular.

"Jasmin is a well-built and strongly limbed man of about fifty, with
a large, massive head, and a broad pile of forehead, overhanging two
piercingly bright black-eyes, and features which would be heavy, were
they allowed a moment's repose from the continual play of the facial
muscles, sending a never-ending series of varying expressions across
the dark, swarthy visage. Two sentences of his conversation were quite
sufficient to stamp his individuality.

"The first thing which struck me was the utter absence of all the
mock-modesty, and the pretended self-underrating, conventionally assumed
by persons expecting to be complimented upon their sayings or doings.
Jasmin seemed thoroughly to despise all such flimsy hypocrisy. 'God only
made four Frenchmen poets,' he burst out with, 'and their names are,
Corneille, Lafontaine, Beranger, and Jasmin!'

"Talking with the most impassioned vehemence, and the most redundant
energy of gesture, he went on to declaim against the influences of
civilisation upon language and manners as bei