If I had been struck with the rapid and business-like manner in which

the company entered, I was amused with the readiness with which they

paired off when dinner was announced. It was like a _coup de théâtre_,

every man and every woman knowing his or her exact rank and precedency,

and the time when to move. This business of getting out of a

drawing-room to a dinner table is often one of difficulty, though less

frequently in France, than in most other European countries, on account

of the admirable tact of the women, who seldom suffer a knotty point to

get the ascendency, but, by choosing the gentleman for themselves,

settle the affair off hand. From their decision, of course, there is no

appeal. In order that in your simplicity, you may not mistake the

importance of this moment, I will relate an anecdote of what lately

occurred, at a dinner given by an English functionary in Holland.

When William invaded England, in 1688, he took with him many Dutch

nobles, some of whom remained, and became English peers. Among others,

he created one of his followers an Irish Earl; but choosing to return to

Holland, this person was afterwards known as the Count de ——, although

his Irish rank was always acknowledged. It happened that the wife of the

descendant of this person was present at the entertainment in question.

When dinner was announced, the company remarked that the master of the

house was in a dilemma. There was much consultation, and a delay of near

half an hour before the matter was decided. The debated point was,

whether Mad. de —— was to be considered as a Dutch or an Irish Countess.

If the latter, there were English ladies present who were entitled to

precede her; if the former, as a stranger, she might get that advantage

herself. Luckily for the rights of hospitality, the Dutch lady got the

best of it.

These things sound absurd, and sometimes they are so, but this social

drilling, unless carried to extremes, is not without its use. In

America, I have always understood that, on such occasions, silent laws

of etiquette exist, in all good company, which are founded on propriety

and tact. The young give way to the old, the undistinguished to the

distinguished, and he who is at home to the stranger. These rules are

certainly the most rational, and in the best taste, when they can be

observed, and, on the whole, they lead perhaps to the fewest

embarrassments; always so, if there happen to be none but the well bred

present, since seats become of little consideration where no importance

is attached to them. I confess to some manœuvering in my time, to get

near, or away from a fire, out of a draught, or next some agreeable

woman; but the idea whether I was at the head or the foot of the table

never crossed my mind: and yet here, where they do mean the salt to come

into the account, I begin to take care that they do not “bite their

thumbs” at me. Two or three little things have occurred in my presence,

which show that all our people do not even understand the ways of their

own good society. A very young man lately, under the impression that

gallantry required it, led one of the most distinguished women in the

room, to the table, merely because he happened to be next her, at the

moment dinner was announced. This was certainly a failure even in

American etiquette, every woman being more disposed to appreciate the

delicacy and respect which should have induced such a person to give

place to one of higher claims, than to prize the head-over-heels

assiduity that caused the boy to forget himself. Sentiment should be the

guide on such occasions, and no man is a gentleman until his habits are

brought completely in subjection to its dictates, in all matters of this

sort.

There was very little sentiment, however, in marshalling the company at

the dinner given to Mr. Canning. I will not undertake to say that all

the guests were invited to meet this gentleman, and that he had been

asked to name a day, as is usual when it is intended to pay an especial

compliment; but I was asked to meet him, and I understood that the

dinner was in his honour. Diplomatic etiquette made short work of the

matter, notwithstanding, for the doors were hardly thrown open, before

all the privileged vanished, with a quickness that was surprising. The

minister took Mad. de Villele; M. de Villele, Mrs. Brown; M. de Damas

the wife of the oldest ambassador, and the Nuncio, Mad. de Damas; after

which, the ambassadors and ministers took each other’s wives in due

order, and with a promptitude that denoted great practice. Even the

charge disappeared, leaving the rest of us to settle matters among

ourselves as well as we could. Mr. Canning, Mr. Gallatin, Lord

Clanricarde, the divine, the secretary and myself, were left with only

the wife of the clergyman and Miss Gallatin. As a matter of course, the

Americans, feeling themselves at home, made signs for the two Englishmen

to precede them, and Mr. Canning offered his arm to Mrs. ——, and Lord

Clanricarde, his, to Miss Gallatin. Here occurred a touch of character

that is worthy to be mentioned, as showing of how very little account an

American, male or female, is in the estimation of a European, and how

very arbitrary are the laws of etiquette among our English cousins. Mr.

Canning actually gave way to his son-in-law, leaving the oldest of the

two ladies to come after the youngest, because, as a Marquis, his

son-in-law took precedence of a commoner! This was out of place in

America, at least, where the parties were, by a fiction in law, if not

in politeness, and it greatly scandalized all our Yankee notions of

propriety. Mrs. —— afterwards told me that he apologized for the

circumstance, giving Lord Clanricarde’s rank as the reason. “_Semper

eadem_,” or “worse and worse” as my old friend O——n used to translate

it. What became of the precedency of the married lady all this time, you

will be ready to ask? Alas? she was an American, and had no precedency.

The twelve millions may not settle this matter as it should be, but,

take my word for it the “fifty millions” will. Insignificant as all this

is, or rather ought to be, your grandchildren and mine will live to see

the mistake rectified. How much better would it be for those who cannot

stop the progress of events, by vain wishes and idle regrets, to concede

the point gracefully, and on just principles, than to have their

cherished prejudices broken down by dint of sheer numbers and power?

The dinner, itself, was like every dinner that is given at Paris,

beautiful in decoration, admirable in its order, and excellent in

viands, or rather, in its dishes; for it is the cookery and not the

staple articles that form the boast of the French kitchen. As you are

notable in your own region, for understanding these matters, I must say

a word, touching the gastric science as it is understood here. A general

error exists in America on the subject of French cookery, which is not

highly seasoned, but whose merit consists in blending flavors and in

arranging compounds, in such a manner as to produce, at the same time,

the lightest and most agreeable food. A lady who, from her public

situation, receives once a week, for the entire year, and whose table

has a reputation, assured me, lately, that all the spices consumed

annually in her kitchen did not cost her a franc! The _effect_ of a

French dinner is its principal charm. One of reasonably moderate habits,

rises from the table with a sense of enjoyment, that, to a stranger, at

least, is sometimes startling. I have, on several occasions, been afraid

I was relaxing into the vices of a _gourmet_, if, indeed, vices they can

be called. The _gourmand_ is a beast, and there is nothing to be said in

his favour, but, after all, I incline to the opinion that no one is the

worse for a knowledge of what is agreeable to the palate. Perhaps no one

of either sex is thoroughly trained, or properly bred, without being

_tant soit peu de gourmet_. The difference between sheer eating, and

eating with tact and intelligence, is so apparent as to need no

explanation. A dinner here does not oppress one. The wine neither

intoxicates nor heats, and the frame of mind and body in which one is

left, is precisely that best suited to intellectual and social

pleasures. I make no doubt, that one of the chief causes of the French

being so agreeable as companions, is, in a considerable degree, owing to

the admirable qualities of their table. A national character may emanate

from a kitchen. Roast beef, bacon, pudding, and beer, and port, will

make a different man, in time, from Château Margau, _côtelettes_,

_consommés_ and _souflés_. The very name of _vol au vent_ is enough to

make one walk on air!

Seriously, these things have more influence than may be, at a glance,

imagined. The first great change I could wish to make in America, would

be to see a juster appreciation of the substance, and less importance

attached to outward forms, in moral things. The second, would be to

create a standard of greatness and distinction, that should be

independent, or nearly independent, of money. The next, a more reasoning

and original tone of thought, as respects our own distinctive principles

and _distinctive situation_, with a total indifference to the theories

that have been broached to sustain an alien and an antagonist system, in

England; and the last, (the climax) a total reform in the kitchen! If I

were to reverse the order of these improvements, I am not certain the

three last might not follow as a consequence of the first. After our

people have been taught to cook a dinner, they ought also to be taught

how to eat it.

Our entertainment lasted the usual hour and a half, and, as one is all

this time eating, and there are limits to the capacity of a stomach, a

part of the lightness and gaiety with which one rises from a French

dinner ought to be attributed to the time that is consumed at the table.

The different ingredients have opportunity to dispose of themselves, in

their new abode, and are not crowded together pell mell, or like papers

and books in —— —— library, as I think they must be after a

transatlantic meal. As for the point of a mere consumption of food, I

take it, the palm must be given to your Frenchman. I had some amusement

to-day in watching the different countries. The Americans were nearly

all through their dinner, by the time the first course was removed. All

that was eaten, afterwards, was literally with them, pure make-weight,

though they kept a hungry look, to the last. The English seemed fed even

before the dinner was begun, and, although the continental powers in

general, had the art of picking till they got to the finger bowls, none

really kept up the ball but the Frenchmen. It happened to be Friday, and

I was a little curious to discover whether the Nuncio came to these

places with a dispensation in his pocket. He sat next to Mad. de Damas,

as good a Catholic as himself, and I observed them helping themselves to

several suspicious-looking dishes, during the first course. I ought to

have told you before, that one rarely, almost never, helps his

neighbour, at a French entertainment. The dishes are usually put on the

table, removed by the servants to be carved, in succession, and handed

to the guests to help themselves. When the service is perfect, every

dish is handed to each guest. In the great houses, servants out of

livery help to the different _plats_, servants in livery holding the

dishes, sauces, &c., and changing the plates. I believe it is strictly

_haut ton_ for the servants in livery, to do nothing but assist those

out of livery. In America it is thought stylish to give liveries; in

Europe those who keep most servants out of livery, are in the highest

mode, since these are always a superior class of menials. The habits of

this quarter of the world give servants a very different estimation from

that which they hold with us. Nobles of high rank are employed about the

persons of princes, and, although, in this age, they perform no strictly

menial offices, or only on great occasions, they are, in theory, the

servitors of the body. Nobles have been even employed by nobles, and it

is still considered an honor for the child of a physician, or a

clergyman, or a shop-keeper, in some parts of Europe, to fill a high

place in the household of a great noble. The body servant, or the

_gentleman_ as he is sometimes called even in England, of a man of rank,

looks down upon a mechanic, as his inferior. Contrary to all our notions

as all this is, it is strictly reasonable, when the relative conditions,

information, habits, and characters of the people, are considered. But

servants here, are divided into many classes; for some are scullions,

and some are intrusted with the keys. It follows that those who maintain

most of the higher class, who are never in livery, maintain the highest

style. To say he keeps a servant out of livery, means that he keeps a

better sort of domestic. Mere footmen always wear it, the _maitre

d’hôtel_, or groom of the chambers, and the valet, never.

But to return to the dispensation, I made it a point to taste every dish

that had been partaken of by the Nuncio and his neighbor, and I found

that they were all fish; but fish, so treated, that they could hardly

know what to think of themselves. You may remember, however, that an

Archbishop of Paris was sufficiently complaisant to declare a particular

duck, of which one of Louis XVIth’s aunts was fond, to be fish, and, of

course, fit to be eaten on fast-days.

The fasting of these people would strike you as singular, for I verily

believe they eat more of a fast-day, than on any other. We engaged a

governess for the girls, not long after our arrival, and she proved to

be a bigotted Catholic, a furious royalist, and as ignorant as a calf.

She had been but a few weeks in the house, when I detected her teaching

her _élèves_ to think Washington an unpardonable rebel, La Fayette a

monster, Louis XVIth a martyr, and all heretics in the high road to

damnation. There remained no alternative but to give her a quarter’s

salary, and to get rid of her. By the way, this woman was of a noble

family, and, as such, received a small pension from the court. But I

kept her fully a month longer, than I think I otherwise should, to see

her eat on fast-days. Your aunt had the consideration, invariably, to

order fish for her, and she made as much havoc among them as a pike. She

always commenced the Friday, with an extra allowance of fruit, which she

was eating all the morning; and, at dinner, she contrived to eat half

the vegetables, and all the fish. One day, by mistake, the soup happened

to be _gras_ instead of _maïgre_, and, after she had swallowed a large

plate-full, I was malicious enough to express my regrets at the mistake.

I really thought the poor woman was about to disgorge on the spot, but

by dint of consolation she managed to spare us this scene. So good an

occasion offering, I ventured to ask her why she fasted at all, as I did

not see it made any great difference in the sum total of her bodily

nutriment. She assured me that I did not understand the matter. The

fruit was merely “_refraichissante_,” and so counted for nothing; and as

for the fish and vegetables, I might possibly think them very good

eating, and for that matter, so did she, on Thursdays and Saturdays, but

no sooner did Friday come than she longed for meat. The merit of the

thing consisted, therefore, more in denying her appetite than in going

without food. I tried hard to persuade her to take a _côtellette_ with

me, but the proposition made her shudder, though she admitted that she

envied me every mouthful I swallowed. The knowledge of this craving did

not take away my appetite.

Lest you should suppose that I am indulging in the vulgar English slang

against French governesses, I will add that our own was the very worst,

in every respect, I ever saw in, or out, of France, and that I have met

with ladies in this situation, every way qualified, by principles,

attainments, manners and antecedents, to be received with pleasure, in

the best company of Europe.

Our _convives_ in the Hotel Monaco, soon disappeared after the _chasse

café_, leaving none but the Americans behind them. Men and women retired

as they came; the latter, however, taking leave, as is always required

by the punctilios of your sex, except at very large and crowded parties,

and even then properly, and the former, if alone, getting away as

quietly as possible. The whole affair was over before nine o’clock, at

which hour the diplomatick corps was scattered all through Paris.

Previously to this dispersion, however, Mr. Gallatin did me the favor to

present me to Mr. Canning. The conversation was short, and was chiefly

on America. There was a sore spot in his feelings, in consequence of a

recent negotiation, and he betrayed it. He clearly does not love us, but

what Englishman does? You will be amused to hear that unimportant in

other respects, as this little conversation was, it has been the means

of affecting the happiness of two individuals of high station in Great

Britain. It would be improper for me to say more, but of the fact I can

entertain no manner of doubt, and I mention it here, merely as a curious

instance of the manner in which “tall oaks from little acorns grow.”

I ought to have said that two, instead of one event, followed this

dinner. The second was our own introduction into European society. The

how and wherefore it is unnecessary to explain, but some of the

cleverest and best-bred people of this well bred and clever capital took

us by the hand, all “unlettered” as we were, and from that moment,

taking into consideration our tastes and my health, the question has

been not how to get into, but how to keep out of, the great world. You

know enough of these matters, to understand that, the ice once broken,

any one can float in the current of society.

This little footing has not been obtained without some _contre tems_,

and I have learned early to understand that wherever there is an

Englishman in the question, it behoves an American to be reserved,

punctilious and sometimes stubborn. There is a strange mixture of kind

feeling, prejudice and ill nature, as respects us, wrought into the

national character of that people, that will not admit of much

mystification. That they should not like us may be natural enough; but

if they seek the intercourse, they ought, on all occasions, to be made

to conduct it equally without annoyance and condescension, and on terms

of perfect equality; conditions, by the way, that are scarcely agreeable

to their present[5] notions of superiority.

Footnote 5:

The change in this respect, during the last ten years is _patent_. No

European nation has, probably, just at this moment as much real

respect for America, as the English, though it is still mixed with

great ignorance, and a very sincere dislike. Still, the enterprise,

activity, and growing power of the country are forcing themselves on

the attention of our kinsmen; and if the government understood its

foreign relations as well as it does its domestic, and made a proper

exhibition of maritime preparation and of maritime force, this people

would hold the balance in many of the grave questions that are now

only in abeyance, in European politics. Hitherto we have been

influenced by every vacillation in English interests, and it is quite

time to think of turning the tables, and of placing, as far as

practicable, American interests above the vicissitudes of those of

other people. The thing is more easily done, than is commonly

imagined, but a party politician is rarely a statesman, the

subordinate management necessary to the one, being death to the

comprehensive views that belong to the other. The peculiar nature of

the American institutions, and the peculiar geographical situation of

the country, moreover, render higher qualities necessary, perhaps, to

make a statesman here, than elsewhere.

In order to understand why I mention any other than the French, in the

capital of France, you will remember that there are many thousands of

foreigners established here, for longer or shorter periods, who, by

means of their money (a necessary that, relatively, is less abundant

with the French) materially affect society, contriving to penetrate it,

in all directions, in some way or other.

LETTER VII.

TO JACOB SUTHERLAND, ESQ., NEW YORK.

Your legal pursuits, will naturally give you an interest in the subject

of the state of justice in this part of the world. A correspondence like

mine would not admit of any very profound analysis of the subject, did I

possess the necessary learning, which I do not, but I may present a few

general facts and notions, that will give you some idea of the state of

this important feature of society. The forms and modes of English

jurisprudence are so much like our own, as to create the impression that

the administration of justice is equally free from venality and favor.

As a whole, and when the points at issue reach the higher functionaries

of the law, I should think this opinion true; but, taking those facts

that appear in the daily prints, through the police reports and in the

form of personal narratives, as guides, I should think that there is

much more oppression, many more abuses, and far more outrages on the

intention of the law, in the purlieus of the courts in England, through

the agency of subordinates, than with us. The delays and charges of a

suit in chancery, almost amount to a denial of justice. Quite lately, I

saw a statement, which went to show that a legacy to a charity of about

£1000, with the interest of some fourteen years, had been consumed in

this court, with the exception of rather more than £100. This is an

intolerable state of things, and goes to prove, I think, that, in some

of its features at least, English jurisprudence is behind that of every

other free country.

But I have been much impressed, lately, by a case that would be likely

to escape the attention of more regular commentators. A peer of the

realm having struck a constable on a race course, is proceeded against,

in the civil action. The jury found for the plaintiff, damages £50. In

summing up, the judge reasoned exactly contrary to what I am inclined to

think would have been the case, had the matter been tried before you. He

gave it as his opinion that the action was frivolous and ought never to

have been brought, that the affair should have been settled out of

court, and, in short, left the impression that it was not, as such, so

great a hardship for a constable to be struck by a peer, that his honor

might not be satisfied with the offering of a guinea or two. The jury

thought differently; from which I infer that the facts did not sustain

the judge in his notions. Now, the reasoning at home, would, I think,

have been just the other way. The English judge said, in substance, a

man of Lord ——’s dignity ought not to have been exposed to this action;

you would have said, a senator is a law-maker, and owes even a higher

example of order than common to the community; _he_ insinuated that a

small reparation ought to suffice, while _you_ would have made some

strong hints at smart-money.

I mention this case, for I think it rather illustrative of English

justice. Indeed, it is not easy to see how it well can be otherwise:

when society is divided into castes, the weak must go to the wall. I

know that the theory, here, is quite different, and that one of the

boasts of England is the equality of its justice, but I am dealing in

_facts_ and not in theories. In America it is thought, and with proper

limitations, I dare say, justly, that the bias of juries, in the very

lowest courts, is in favour of the poor against the rich, but the right

of appeal restores the balance, and, in a great degree, secures justice.

In each case, it is the controlling power that does the wrong; in

England the few, in America the many.

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