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ORIGINAL ANECDOTES, SOCIAL AND POLITICAL,

COLLECTED DURING THE LAST HALF CENTURY.

BY A DISTINGUISHED FRENCH AUTHORESS.

TALLEYRAND.-At a small private party in Paris, one evening, some difficulty was found in making up a whist table for the Prince de Talleyrand. A young diplomat present, who was earnestly pressed by the hostess, excused himself on the grounds of not knowing the game. "Not know how to play whist, sir?" said the Prince, with a sympathizing air; "then, believe me, you are bringing yourself up to be a miserable old man!"

THE VESTRIS FAMILY.-The pomposity of the elder Vestris, the "diou de la danse," and founder of the choregraphic dynasty, has been often described. In speaking of his son, Augustus, he used to say, "If that boy occasionally touches the ground, in his pas de zephyr, it is only not to mortify his companions on the stage."

When Vestris père arrived from Italy, with several brothers, to seek an engagement at the Opera, the family was accompanied by an aged mother; while one of the brothers, less gifted than the rest, officiated as cook to the establishment. On the death of their venerable parent, the diou de la danse, with his usual bombastic pretensions, saw fit to give her a grand interment, and to pronounce a funeral oration beside the grave. In the midst of his harangue, while apparently endeavouring to stifle his sobs, he suddenly caught sight of his brother, the cook, presenting a most ludicrous appearance, in the long mourning cloak, or train, which it was then the custom to wear. "Get along with you, in your ridiculous cloak!" whispered he, suddenly cutting short his eloquence and his tears. "Get out of my sight, or you will make me die with laughing."

A third brother of the same august family passed a great portion of his youth at Berlin, as secretary to Prince Henry of Prussia, brother of Frederick the Great. He used to relate that Prince Henry, who was a connoisseur of no mean pretensions, but prevented by his limited means from indulging his passion for the arts, purchased for his gallery at Rheinsberg a magnificent bust of Antinous-a recognised antique. Feeling that he could not have enough of so good a thing, His Royal Highness caused a great number of plaster casts to be struck off, which he placed in various positions in his pleasure-grounds. When he received

visits from illustrious foreigners, on their way to the court of his royal brother, he took great pleasure in exhibiting his gardens; explaining their beauties with all the zest of a cicerone. "That is a superb bust of Antinous," he used to say, "Another fine Antinous, an unquestionable antique." A little further on, "Another Antinous-a cast from the marble." "Another Antinous,

which you cannot fail to admire." And so on, through all the three hundred copies; varying, at every new specimen his phrase and intonation, in a manner which was faithfully and most amusingly pourtrayed by the mimicry of his ex-secretary. Vestris used to relate the story in Paris, in presence of the Prussian ambassador, who corroborated its authenticity by shouts of laughter. Prince Henry of Prussia, however, in spite of this artistic weakness, distinguished himself worthily by his talents and exploits during the Seven Years' War.

LAMARTINE.-An eminent Royalist, still living, unable to pardon one of the greatest modern poets of France for having contributed, in 1848, to the proclamation of the Republic, observed, on noticing his subsequent endeavours to calm down the popular enthusiasm he had so much assisted to excite,-" Ay, ay! an incendiary disguised as a fireman!"

SEMONVILLE.-Monsieur de Semonville, one of the ablest tacticians of his time, was remarkable for the talent with which, amidst the crush of revolutions, he always managed to maintain his post, and take care of his personal interests. He knew exactly to whom to address himself for support, and the right time for availing himself of it. When Talleyrand, one of his most intimate friends, heard of his death, he reflected for a few minutes, and then drily observed,-" I can't for the life of me make out what interest Semonville had to serve by dying just now."

THE MARQUIS DE XIMENES.-Some forty years ago, one of the most assiduous frequenters and shrewdest critics of the "Théatre Français" was a certain Marquis de Ximenes; a man considerably advanced in years, who had witnessed the greatest triumphs of the French stage, in the acting of Le Kain, Mademoiselle Clairon, and Mademoiselle Dumesnil, and whose good word sufficed to create a reputation. He had all the traditions of the stage at his fingers' end, and few young actors ventured to undertake a standard part without previously consulting the old Marquis.

When Lafond, the tragedian, made his début, he was extremely solicitous to obtain an approving word from the Marquis de Ximenes. One night, after playing the part of Orosmane in Voltaire's tragedy of "Zaire," with unbounded applause, the actor, not content with the enthusiasm of the public, expressed to the friends who crowded to his dressing-room with congratulations, his anxiety to know the opinion of the high-priest of theatrical criticism— "I must hurry down to the Foyer," said he. "The Marquis is sure to drop in while the after-piece is performed; I long to hear what he says of my reading of the part."

On entering the foyer, the old gentleman was seen to advance towards the lion of the night; and Lafond, highly flattered by this act of graciousness, instantly assumed an air of grateful diffidence.

"Monsieur Lafond," said the Marquis, in a tone audible to the whole assembly, "you have this night acted Orosmane in a style that Le Kain never attained.”

* Who must not be confounded with the admirable comedian, Lafont, so popular at the St. James's Theatre.

"Ah! Monsieur le Marquis," faltered the gratified histrion. "I repeat, sir,-in a style that Le Kain never attained.-Sir, Le Kain knew better."

Before Lafond recovered his command of countenance, the malicious old gentleman had disappeared.

MARIE ANTOINETTE.-The unfortunate Marie Antoinette was one of the kindest-hearted of human beings, as might be proved by a thousand traits of her domestic life. One evening, Monsieur de Chalabre, the banker of Her Majesty's faro-table, in gathering up the stakes, detected by his great experience in handling such objects, that one of the rouleaux of fifty louis d'or, was factitious. Having previously noticed the young man by whom it was laid on the table, he quietly placed it in his pocket, in order to prevent its getting into circulation or proving the means of a public scandal.

The movements of the banker, meanwhile, were not unobserved. The Queen, whose confidence in his probity had been hitherto unlimited, saw him pocket the rouleau; and when the company assembled round the play-table were making their obeisances previous to retiring for the night, Her Majesty made a sign to Monsieur de Chalabre to remain.

"I wish to know, sir," said the Queen, as soon as they were alone, "what made you abstract, just now, from the play-table, a rouleau of fifty louis?"

"A rouleau, Madam ?" faltered the banker.

"A rouleau," persisted the Queen, "which is, at this moment, in the right-hand pocket of your waistcoat."

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"Since your Majesty is so well informed," replied Monsieur de Chalabre, "I am bound to explain that I withdrew the rouleau because it was a forged one."

"Forged!" reiterated Marie Antoinette, with surprise and indignation, which were not lessened when Monsieur de Chalabre produced the rouleau from his pocket, and, tearing down a strip of the paper in which it was enveloped, proved that it contained only a piece of lead, cleverly moulded to simulate a rouleau.

"Did you notice by whom it was put down?" inquired the Queen. And when Monsieur de Chalabre, painfully embarrassed, hesitated to reply, she insisted, in a tone that admitted of no denial, on a distinct answer.

The banker was compelled to own that it was the young Count de C the representative of one of the first families in France.

"Let this unfortunate business transpire no further, sir," said the Queen, with a heavy sigh. And with an acquiescent bow, Monsieur de Chalabre withdrew from his audience.

At the next public reception held in the apartments of the Queen, the Count de C- whose father was Ambassador from the Court of Versailles to one of the great powers of Europe, approached the play-table as usual. But Marie Antoinette instantly advanced to intercept him.

"Pardon me, Monsieur le Comte," said she, "if I forbid you again to appear at my faro-table. Our stakes are much too

high for so young a man. I promised your mother to watch over you in her place, during her absence from France, and preserve you, as far as lay in my power, from mischance."

The Count, perceiving that his misdeeds had been detected, coloured to the temples. Unable to express his gratitude for so mild a sentence of condemnation, he retired from the assembly, and was never again seen to approach a card-table.

CHARLES THE TENTH.-When Martignac was first proposed as Prime Minister to Charles the Tenth. "No!" said the King, Martignac would never suit me. He is a verbal coquette, who holds, above all things, to the graceful symmetry of his sentences. To secure a well-turned phrase, he would sacrifice a royal prerogative. A minister should not hold too jealously to the success of his prosody."

LA PLACE.-La Place, the celebrated geometrician and astronomer, was passionately fond of music; but he preferred the school to which he had been accustomed from his youth. During the feud between the Gluckists and Piccinists, he sided warmly with Piccini; and ever afterwards retained a strong partiality for Italian music. In latter years he rarely attended the theatre; but was tempted by the great reputation of the Freischutz, produced at Paris under the name of the "Robin des Bois," to witness the performance. As a peer of France, the author of the Mécanique Céleste was entitled to a seat in the box, set apart, at the Odeon, for the members of the Upper House; which, unluckily, happened to be situated near the brass instruments of the orchestra. At the first crash, the brows of La Place were seen to contract. At the second bray, he rose from his seat and seized his hat. "Old as I am, thank God I am not yet deaf enough to endure that!" said he; and quietly slipped out of the theatre.

LEMERCIER, THE DRAMATIST.-Népomucène Lemercier, author of the successful tragedy of "Agamemnon," and the brilliant play of "Pinto" (which, though styled by the severe canons of Parisian criticism a drama, is in fact the wittiest comedy produced in France between Beaumarchais' "Marriage de Figaro" and Scribe's "Bertrand et Raton,"), was quite as original in his habits as in his works. Paralysed on one side from his earliest youth, he maintained, under all sorts of vicissitudes, the most philosophical equanimity. Of himself and his writings, he judged as they might have been criticised by a stranger. When reading a MS. play to a friend, if some particular passage excited admiration, he would observe," Yes, it is tolerably good. But the piece will probably fall long before they come to that." In his time, at the classical theatre at Paris, the smallest scenic innovation, or breach of the unities, was fatal to a piece. Yet in his play of "Christopher Columbus," Lemercier had the audacity to place the first act in Madrid, the second on board ship in the New World. Damnation, under such circumstances, was inevitable. So striking, however, were the situations, and so profound the reflections scattered through the piece, that much applause was audible even through the storm of hisses. Lemercier, stationed behind the scenes, finding the case hopeless, ordered the curtain to be let

down. The actors, however, resisted;-the manager demurred. When, lo! Lemercier, having quietly stepped down into the prompter's box,-(which in France is placed as with us at the Italian opera)-snatched away the MS., and carried it off. It was now impossible to proceed, for the author had left the house; and an explanation was hurriedly offered to the public. According to the usual contrariety of human nature, the previous malcontents became still more furious, on finding themselves defrauded of the remainder of a piece so full of original scenes and memorable thoughts, and clamoured to have the representation repeated.

After ceasing to write for the stage, Lemercier, who was a very learned man, delivered a remarkable course of lectures on Literature, at the Athénée of Paris. His cheerful disposition remained unimpaired to the last, even by his physical calamities. One day, as he was reading to the members of the French Academy a new drama-a comedy, strange to say, bearing the title of " Attila,"he paused suddenly. "I must throw myself on your indulgence, gentlemen," said he, mildly, “I am struck blind, and cannot proceed." He had in truth totally lost his eyesight; which he never recovered. A short time afterwards, he made his appearance at the Academy, where one of his colleagues had undertaken to read, in his name, a charming Essay on the writings of Pascal, which he had just completed. At the close of the lecture, his friends crowded round him with congratulations. But alas! poor Lemercier could not rise from his chair to offer his thanks; he had been stricken with universal paralysis. He was conveyed home with the utmost tenderness by his brother academicians, and two days afterwards expired.

PHILIDOR.-Philidor, who preceded Grétry as a popular composer of comic operas, was better known as the finest chess-player in Europe. In his youth, and on his travels in Holland, England, and Germany, he turned his skill, in this particular, to account, as a means of subsistence. While occupied in a game of chess, he was able to direct the moves of a second game, the table being placed out of his sight; which was, at that period, a great achievement. In his latter years, he was averse to undertaking this; but the Count d'Artois, afterwards Charles the Tenth, was so desirous to witness the exploit, that he offered to stake a hundred louis d'ors against Philidor's success. The incomparable player still declined, assuring his Royal Highness that he was certain to win. The Count, however, persisted, and having previously determined to pay to Philidor, under any circumstances, the hundred louis which he had deposited for that purpose in the hands of a third person, he proceeded to bribe the player, under Philidor's instructions, not to follow exactly the orders of his master. Accordingly, at about the twentieth move, his king was check-mated, "Impossible !" said Philidor," the knight takes the queen." "The knight is not there. It is a bishop."

Philidor paused for a moment to recall the moves of the game. "I see how it is," said he, " at the fifth move you moved the bishop instead of the knight as I desired," which was precisely the case. Convinced of his skill, the following day the Count d'Artois