LADIES’ LETTER FROM PARIS.

Globe, Volume II, Issue 201, 30 January 1875, Page 3

LADIES’ LETTER FROM PARIS.

(From a correspondent of the Press.') Paris, November 28. Misfortunes never come singly, ’tis said. With the return of the Deputies to Versailles arrives King Frost as hard as a miser and as black as midnight, having threatening snowstorms hanging on his skirts. Parisians, and they represent Fiance, would prefer a thousand times the presence of his majesty and the drawbacks of his visit—more especially his departure—lhan that of their Representatives. The former does some good; the latter none at all, except to keep the country in hot water, to frighten our timid aunts and dear old grandmammas at the prospect of M, Thiers resuscitating the Commune after battering it into a jelly, and arming papas and husbands with a thousand reasons for a crusade in favor of retrenchment and economy, though otherwise inclined to be as liberal as an oriental prince. It is unhappy to be thus “ cabin’d, cribb’d, confin’d,” at a moment when everything in the way of toilette is exactly double the price it was when Napoleon 111. arrived at power, by knocking everybody on the head who raised a finger against his doings. Many people believe as firmly as a Mohammedan in his Koran that France will never be right again till she receives another second of December worrying, as severe diseases require desperate remedies; only everybody believes it is his neighbour and not himself that merits the unconstitutional shaking. Whatever may be the state of government in this country, whether monarchial, republic, or imperial, or an unknown quantity, as the algebraists say, like the present regime, it never interferes with the people practising the preacher’s counsel, that “ man hath no better thing under the sun than to eat, and to drink, and to be merry ”; it is only people who have not the means, but with the inclination, who do not dance on the volcano, as French life is supposed to rest on some burning mountains, and to which we become accustomed to, as eels are reputed to be skinned. Take any boulevards in Paris; station yourself in a rocking chair, which costs only four sous for a whole day, at the entrance of the Champs behind the rearing up Marly horses, and look at the world that rushes by, carriages charging up the broad avenue five abreast like Roman chariots in a circus, and charging down again; on each sideway people crowded like ants or busy bees—drones included ; no evidence can be here witnessed that people believe in the approach of|the crack o’doom, or that modern Babylon is on the road to ruin. There are no Medes or Persians to dread knocking at our gates, and the latter have departed since a twelvemonth, with about the same regret as the two-headed woman and the man-dog Nothing but balls and rumors of balls, varied by Lucullian dinners, monster teas, and cosmopolitan at homes ; nothing but dresses armor-plated with pearls, garnished with furs, and trimmed with cock’s feathers; manufacturers at their wit’s end to produce the most gorgeous materials ; dressmakers and milliners graduating for Bedlam to invent new shapes and original designs, and customers crowding to have their commands executed regardless of expense. The prospect of a good skating season has revived Lapland fashions and Russian institutions : droskys will soon be as plentiful aa voitures I de remise, which at the same time are as

rare as policemen, and dog-carriages impart an Esquimaux piciuresqueness to the Bois de Boulogne. The Russian Empress, on her arrival from L» nio.i. attracted quite a crowd of ladies at the railway terminus to view her Majesty’s furs, admitted to be the first in the world; one mantle of red fur, lined with sable, is valued at 100,0 OEr, and is composed of no less than the skins of martins; the Czar has a more valuable overall still, because larger, though not finer. Madame Patti has also a celebrated fur mantle, presented to her by the Czar in memory of snowy days and nightingale evenings at fSt Petersburg. The attempt will be made this winter to inaugurate an odd kind of “garden parties;” the little lawn®, enclosed by walls, before so many town houses of the nobility, are so situated that they can be covered with a sheet of pipe water—Egyptian deltas in miniature, which, when frozen, will form skating ground for friends to patronise, while music discourse* in an adjoining corner. The Croquet C.ub purposes playing several matches on the lakes in the Bois, ice permitting. Official balls are as rare as angel’s visits, and which is explained by the fact that ministers have nothing permanent in their appointment, their existence being only tolerated; it is hence impossible to look for mirth in the house of the dying, and since the days of M. OPivier, France has never seen a high functionary with a “light heart.” Madame MacMahon does not certainly lean to a fast life, her spirit may be willing, but her purse is weak, and there is no reason why she and her husband should ruin themselves todo the honors of the Septennate, that nobody believes in, and for which none are grateful. If France desires ball-room glory she is rich enough to pay for it; his military position and habits prevent the Marshal from givingtea and toast parties, like M Thiers, with blue-stocking chat as a substitute for a Strauss’ waltz and an Arban galop. M Thiers never gives a dinner party, though chief of the new-fledged Republicans, unless to his political subordinates; it is a business affair ever, where plans of campaigns to lead to glory or disappointment are discussed, he has the best cook in Paris, yet his dinners have the reputation of being as bad as those served for Napoleon 111., which diplomatists it is said never partook of without preliminarily providing themselves with a box of Cockle’s pills. At all events, since the fall of the second Empire, ambassadors accredited to Paris have had no occasion to count the days when the end of the season would arrive, to set them at liberty to repair their stomachs by a course of Flora biOres or Vichy, M. Thiers, who lived with, and had the best of mothers-in-law, Mme Dosne —and let the fact be placed to the credit of that abused race —was, during his relative’s lifetime, celebrated for his hospitality, it being the maxim of Mme Dosne that dinners governed the world. Many remarks are being made, and not kind ones either, at the failure of the Orleanist princes to keep a salon —that is, a party not so much of devoted friends as of followers, as every leading individual has his or her coterie. The Orleans family has suffered in reputation since it fused, as the phrase is, with the Comte de Chambord and his partisans. There was nothing sincere in the reconciliation at all, and the two branches of the House of Bourbon, or “France,” as it prefers to be called, were never more at daggers drawn, even during the period when’ Louis Philippe reigned and was regarded as the abomination of desolation by the Legitimists, than at present. The Spaniards form an important item in the foreign population of Paris j >st now, the members of this colony belong seemingly to the upper ten, are blue blooded Hidalgos, with titles too numerous to mention, or if commenced exacting a “continuation in our next,” One grandee was presented to Marshal MacMahon a short time ago, and counting senor, he had thirty eight handles to his name. The Spaniards do not give balls, but seem to be very fond of family dinners, not a bad substitute; the less fortunate refugees of this branch of the Latin race, mope about the city, wrapped in their black cloth mantles and Indian foulards, in quest of sunshine, and with a Diogenes’ request on their features, that no citizen would permit his shadow to fall across it. Among other distinguished foreigners within our walls are two Aztecs : like all such, they are announced as the last of their race, the sole surviving specimens of the Dodo ; it is not certain what they have been in their own country, but they are announced here as nothing less than “divinities: ” you can view them for one franc, the only incense they relish. Ther* is also a troop of gipsies, having the attractive name of “Tziganes;” they hail fjom Bohemia, the Vaterland of Gitanas, and play on first and second fiddles, guitars as a matter of course, shepherds’ pipes, &c ; they cannot decipher a note of music, and learn their parts by listening to their being played on the piano. The manner in which they execute Strauss’ compositions is sufficient to induce a rheumatic of twenty years' standing to frisk about. An objectionable practice is coming into use in the theatres; that of the author of a new play coming forward with the leading artists on the first representation of the work to thank his “ kind friends,” who very often happen not to be his admirers at all. Dumas fils starts for the country when one of his new plays is brought out; the generality of_ authors, however, remain smoking in a neighboring cafe, receiving scout despatches of how the piece goes on. Old Dumas was more sensible ; he remained at home, personally cooking a supper for the artists and his intimate friends, whom he received in profes sional cook’s costume, white apron and jacket, and a cap made from some newspaper that may have had the unpoliteness to have disrespectfully alluded to one of his 300 literary productions. It was thus attired he received his guests and presided at bis banquets, and I appeal to many distinguished ladies, who have been honored by an invitation from Dumas, if they ever passed a more agreeable evening at any dinner-table. Very pleasant circles have been broken up in consequence of the Reformed Church of Prance having ceased to be “ United Brethren,” and split into Guelfs and Ghibelims ; both parties believe they have right on their side, and decline to yield an inch; they call themselves Orthodox and Liberal, and being about equal numeri cally, the Government is embarrassed as to recognising two opposing orthodoxies. Tin quarrel results from one party having voted a creed, and insisting on the other to accep 1 it or take itself off. We decline to sign an.* creed, irrespective of its theologic in fall i bility, rejoin the Liberals, the essence ot Protestantism lying in its freedom and independence of Scriptural examination; a Daniel or a Solomon is required to come to judgment, and the solution is as difficult as

to endow France with a constitution Socially, the matter is very painful; since war has been declared, ladies cut one another; Dorcas work has been brought to a standstill, and sick and indigent room keepers may remain sick and indigent if they do not declare themselves soundly Orthodox or soundly Liberal. 8t Cecilia’s Day induced not the slightest harmony among the belligerents. However, the patron saint of music and musicians was duly honored in several of the churches with sackbut and psaltery, even Materialists flocked it is said to lend an ear to what angels listen to. The ffete of St Catherine was more a lady’s event; under her segis, no lady, if it so pleases her, need ever pop that question to her mamma, “ Why don’t the men propose?" Every orthodox young lady’s school in France has a holiday in honor of St. Catherine ; the pupils are brought on the occasion to some place of amusement, the admission fee, like as in some cases the premiums, being included among the extras in the quarterly bill. After reading Proudhon’s correspondence, which has just appeared, I have a better, a nobler opinion of philosophers ; that sage, who married a work-girl out of pure love to make her ha py, lays down, that a first happy marriage is otten the best preparation for a second one. Sigh no more, ladies, don’t henceforth believe philosophers are devoid of gallantry and are only so many bound up books. I believe now that when Proudhon laid down his terrible assertion, that “ property is robbery,” he only antici pated the present ownership of Alsace, and so think now a great many of his fellowcountrymen. We have had a second oratorio from Handel successfully executed, but the audience is here very select, truly musical, and grave. Young people cannot reconcile themselvds to sit out saerc d harmony ; they prefer the theatre, its lights, its movement, its gossip, its visitors, exchange of bonbons, &c. ; one cannot talk chiffons during an oratorio, nor slander your bosom friend, nor sneer well ; worst of all you cannot go in grand toilette ; the occasion is hallowed, and costumes must suggest solemnity. Opera cloaks are merely large white circulars, lined with white fur, and bordered with swan’s down ; fur continues to be very fashionable, but it must be, like Caesar’s wife, above suspicion ; sable is a safe material. The new round-shaped hat has most worshippers, and with velvet flowers to match and burnished steel spangles, looks very elegant ; indeed velvet flowers, with bronze leaves, are not so much the mode as the rage ; the bouquets comprise a group of pansies or myosotis, or sprigs of box ; a garland of green hazel nuts with foliage as above, with varied tulips and sprigs of mignonette, the bonnet itself being in velvet or felt, color generally black. A very elegant innovation is the small court mantle, which fits the figure under the retroussis or the postilion of a short robe, and forming a light train behind, nothing more charming than the mantle, which leaves the front part of the dress free, showing off the plaited jupe and tablier, while imparting to the jupe behind that fullness and length of fold so necessary for a lady to walk with distinction in a salon. Referring to salons these on ball nights are illuminated by “concealing” the lights behind ornamental shrubs. Rose gauze and white tulle continue to be largely patronised for ball dresses, and diamonds are worn in the hair generally in the form of sprigs, being retained by a velvet butterfly. If you can get a hold of Victor Hugo’s oration over the grave of Mme. Meurice, read it well ; it is a magnificent tribute to the women of Paris for their bravery during the siege, whose patient, uncomplaining suffering stimulated the defenders. The deceased was a very talented woman, brought up and instructed by the painter Ingres ; she was an accomplished scholar, with not a dash of the bas bleu in her nature, and she stood outside the butchers’ shops like others for hours in the snow, frost, and rain, to receive her Shylock measure of food for her family. A new article of food is announced—that of porcupine’s flesh ; may we not inherit the animal’s proverbial “ fretfulness ” to lessen our joys or add to our sorrows.