GOSSIP FROM AND ABOUT FRANCE.

(FROJI OUR SPECIAL CORRESPONDENT.)

April 16, 1863. LovELY spring has come early, and already the gardens and the dames du demi-monde are in full bloom. The beneficial influence of a radiant sun is felt in the sky and the meadows, as well as along the crowded Boulevards and the shady avenues of the Bois de Boulogne. The leaves shoot forth on the trees, and the hills are covered with primroses, whilst pink tulle, lilac mohair, and striped silk spring up, in enchanting variety, in the shop-windows of the Rue Richelieu and on the shoulders of the showy aventurares, who grace or disgrace (as you like) the Vincennes races with their presence. Now is the time for admiring the charming sweep of the bold ecuyires, whose red and white feathers are flowing in the gentle breeze, or the pretty " pitty-pat step " of the smart walkers who get out of their broughams in a way which shows how well they have studied the weaknesses of man's heart. The art of holding up a dress has made wonderful progress in our days, not to speak of the charms of a robe decolletie. Knowing that many of these fine ladies have but a slight acquaintance with their ver- nacular idiom, I dare say that few of them ever read Ovid in the original. Still, it is wonderful how well they understand the advice given by the gallant Latin poet—"Hoc vos prxcipue,

decet." " This becomes you specially, 0 snowy white women ! "

To reach Vincennes, the cavalcade of elegant vice had to pass through the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, the abode of honest, but poor labour. The contrast was odious, and many a hard-working girl, bent on stitching, as it were, her own winding-sheet, cast a look of despair, and sometimes alas! of envy, on the bouncing courtezans displaying their ill-gotten luxury without a tinge of shame or remorse. But the sturdy artisans at last grew indignant, and began to hiss and to curse the poisonous mushrooms of the second empire in such a significant manner, that many a cheek would have turned pale if paint did allow of such a process. It is said that a chilling foreboding of the day of reckoning shot through the heart of the male and female votaries of Imperialism and smart depravity, and that the police were at one moment seriously afraid of an outbreak. At all events, the working-men boasted somewhat loudly that they were ready de venger is morale, however Herculean the task may appear.

Certainly spring causes to ferment not only the bosom of nature but also the head of man, and electioneering preoccupa- tions germinate together with early flowers. Government begins to get frightened at the hitherto unheard-of symptoms of in- dependence which show themselves, even in the official world. It had been whispered for some time, that the mayors of a certain department had formally asked their pr(fet to abstain from bring- ing forward a candidate of his own. Now, the Gazette de France announces as an undoubted fact that all the maires of two cantons in the department of the Lower Charente have forwarded to Napoleon himself a petition, got up in that convenient form which you call a " round robin " in England, demanding " nentralit6 gouvernementale" in the coming elections. Mirabile dicta! they were not discharged at once, but received from the " Emperor's Cabinet" the official information that the request had been referred to the Home Minister.

These are bad signs, indeed, and Imperialist candidates are in a sad plight. But these unlucky deputies, who are at once Bonapartists and clericals, sacrificing both to God and to Mammon, are driven to a ludicrous state of despair. One of them, Count de Chambrun, thrown over by Government for having once voted with the .Ultramontane party, has just distinguished himself by the adoption of a clever dodge which, to the best of my knowledge, is without a precedent in the annals of candidateship. All the electors of a circonscription in the department of the Lozere have been favoured with the photographs of the worthy count and his lovely countess. The singular present was accompanied by a still

more singular emblematic paper, bearing in a coloured wreath the names of the twenty-four cantons of the department, over which

soars on high a gloomy bust of Napoleon HI. On the verso of the strange picture are printed two verses :—

" A la Lozere I Alois nos cceurs suivront bien partout est amour, Puisqu'ils ont tent d'amour a donner en retour."

"J. de C."

Whatever that may mean, if it means anything, we must leave it to Count de Chambrun to decide. In such a well-meant rhapsody it would be pedantic to lay great stress on the bad prosody, the grating tinkling of the rhyme, or the absence of a syllable in the first verse. If the enthusiastic Count continues in that strain, he may one day be deemed worthy to take possession of bombastic Alexandre Soumet's fauteuil at the Academy. Who knows ? He may one day enjoy the ineffable delight of stitching the canary- coloured palms on the academical costume of his Imperial master. You are aware that Napoleon himself openly spoke to M. Vitet of his candidateship which the Spectator announced in an incidental way many weeks ago. It is whispered that the Emperor intends to apply for the succession of Baron Pasquier, and that in consequence M. Guizot will propose to elect him by acclamation. Let us hope that M. Ampere, who has pointedly refused to vote for the author of the Iddes Napolioniennes, will be director of the Academy on the day when Louis Napoleon Bonaparte shall be received by the learned body. It is customary for the new member to dwell, with well or ill feigned modesty, on his own literary unworthiness, and to acknowledge the indulgent benevolence of the academicians who elected him. Might not M. Ampere publicly repeat the sarcastic answer which he made to the mighty candidate's aide-de-camp ? Or, as he is well versed in French history, he would, perhaps, relate a curious incident in the life of King Henri IV.

The popular Bearnais was pestered by the influential connections of a worthless fellow to confer on him the order of knighthood. He refused many times, but was at last compelled to yield. According to the prescribed formula, the new knight knelt down before the monarch and said, "Domine, non sum dignus." " Well," replied Henri, uttering one of his familiar ventre-saint-gris, " I

am aware of that, but your friends bothered me to such an extent that I felt obliged to overlook the indignity which you acknow- ledge."

There are two fauteuils to fill up just now—the witty feuilletonist Jules Janin, and M. Dufaure, the high-minded barrister and politician, contest the one, and most likely the former will carry it. The second one was almost promised to M. Littre, an independent staunch philosopher and republican, already a

member of the 21cade'mie des Inscriptions et Belles Lettres. He made Frenchmen acquainted with German philosophy and the works of Auguste Comte, and is just now publishing a French dictionary which is a masterpiece • of the kind. He would, therefore, not be amiss among the Academicians, who could never manage to finish

their famous Lexicon. But he is a rationalist, and, in consequence,

the clericals, though pretending to hold his character and learning in the highest admiration, will vote for M. de Came. Well, J.

Littre is ousted, and the Academy may again apply the line which they once engraved on Moliere's bust, "Bien ne mangue t sa gloire, it manguait it in notre." Besides Ferville, of whom I spoke in my last letter, another great comedian has just left the stage, of which he was such a bright ornament, Samson, of the 'Theatre Francais, the amusing impersonation of Moliere's valets and of old M. de Legliere. It is rumoured that he will receive the Cross of the Legion of Honour, and however curious this may appear in a country where almost everybody wears some ribbon or other, the report attracts considerable attention, and is the subject of much criticism. Some actors were. I believe, decorated after they renounced playing, but as professors of the Conservatoire ; only one ever received the Cross while still remaining on the stage, and he was a dancer. But then it happened under Louis Philippe, and the man had been wounded whilst fighting against the republican insurgents in the streets of Paris.

In England worthy comedians enjoy universal esteem, and many a graceful actress wears a coronet. In France, which is in many respects socially more free than your country, the prejudice against actors has not yet died out. "I would have decorated Telma," said the first Napoleon, " if I had dared." This is a singular restriction coming from the lips of a man who dared so much. Veuillot, the impudent mouthpiece of the clerical party, anathe- matizes the stage in full nineteenth-century, and exclaims, " The day on which a comedian, were he ten times a gentleman, shall fasten the star of honour to the waistcoat of Scapin, the Grand Chancellor may bundle up ; the institution will be dead. They are

banished, I tell you, banished for ever." Perhaps this savage cry- ing-down by the Catholic priests may account for the indestruc- tibility of the prepossession. In Spain, at the pure Court of Queen Isabella, many ladies refused to dine in company with Madame de Lagrange, who is not merely a great singer, but also a virtuous wife. That the feeling pervades all classes till it reaches the lowest strata of society was recently shown at Rouen. A drama, by Alexandre Dumas the elder, Richard Darlington, was to be performed, and, to that effect a horse was wanted. The animal was expected to be in a sad condition, being, in the play, tied to a tumbril containing a set of English electors. The manager applied to the possessor of a dung-cart, who proved willing to lend his horse, but asked for an enormous price. The lessee observed that for very slight work and half an hour's use he asked at least ten times too much. " Oh," replied the rustic, " it is not for the work ; it is for the shame 1" The word is historical, and may go far to explain the opposition encountered by poor Samson.

The Thiiitre Lyrique, wishing to make the Parisians acquainted with Mozart's opera, Cosi fint tutte, but deeming the libretto too insipid and frivolous, has resorted to a curious experiment. Two poets, MM. Barbier and Cara, undertook the task to " adapt " Shakespeare's Love's Labour Lost to the sparkling music, and suc- ceeded taut bien que mal. Thus while the German musical reformer, Richard Wagner, maintains that it is degrading for a composer to fit his notes to given words, we have here words (we cannot say poetry) fitted to given notes. Mozart's repertory will then be enriched by a new opera, Les Peines d'Amour Perdues.

M. Theodore Barriere, the clever author of Les Faux Bonhommes, has made another curious trial at the Gymnase ; he has written a play, La Bout der An de l' Amour, in which two actors only, two officers to boot, talk nonsense and sentiment. The comedy is not very lively. The same theatre brought out a very pretty drama by Dumanoir, Le Maison sans Enfants. It is founded on the well-known verses of Victor Hugo, in which he prays to God to preserve those he loves, and even his enemies, "from seeing the summer without coral flowers, the cage without a bird, the hive without bees, and the house without children." The plot is simple and touching, and revolves on the tenderheartedness of a childless wife, who adopts an illegitimate girl which her husband had of a woman who died before he could marry her. There is a powerful scene in the play, when the young wife, who assumed frivolity and love of pleasure to hide the bleeding wound of her heart, suddenly reveals her poignant regret when she finds herself in the presence of a bloom- ing child.

From the theatre to the Church the transition is by no means too harsh in a country where opera-singers enliven the perform- ances and macerations of the "Lent season." This year the select preachers have given little satisfaction, if we except Father Felix. In France, too, the faithful begin to murmur that sermons are no longer either very powerful or very edifying. It is true that they are not read but declaimed ; still the delivery shows sometimes plainly enough that the orator recites the composition of another brain, if not of another pen. There are no " manuscript sermons" sold in the country, nevertheless people apply to a fashionable preacher, whom I could name, a sarcastic epigram which dates from the last century :— " On dit que l'Abbe Rochette

Priche les sermons d'autrui ; qui sail qu'il les achke, Je soutiens qu'ils sons it lui."

Finally, shall I mention the gross challenge sent by the younger Wielopolski to Prince Napoleon Jerome? The sentence in his letter, " Your antecedents leave me little hope that you will take up my request, for there is a courage which never goes beyond the gutter," has provoked many a smile. Nobody sympathizes with a Wielopolski ; but should he ever be called upon to apologize, we beg leave to offer him a suggestion and an anecdote. An actor of the Theatre Francais, relying too much on his favour with the public, one day played rather negligently. The audience became angry and hissed. The self-conceited comedian retorted with the ill-sounding epithet " blockheads." The tumult increased, and the player was compelled to offer an apology, which he did in the fol- lowing manner :—" Gentlemen,—I have said that you are block- heads ; it is true, and I am sorry for it." A GAUL.