honour, except under circumstances of very extraordinary merit; and then only after an interval of several years. The purchase, furthermore, should not be made at all in seasons, if such should occur, in which no picture of unquestionably first-rate merit had been produced by the artists qualified, according to the rules, for having their pictures purchased by the nation.

We sincerely trust that no ruinous defect in the arrangement or size of the new National Gallery, wherever it is to be, will interfere with the enormous expansion of the present collection-from the above or from other sourceswhich is absolutely demanded by the age. The principle of admitting modern pictures having once been fairly allowed as it has been-it will be impossible to stop. Ten years will, in all probability, double the treasures of the National Gallery, as the same period, just elapsed, has doubled, or more than doubled, those of the National Library. Let us see then that we have a gallery to put them in, and not a set of miserable apartments like those in Trafalgar Square. If none of the many magnificent galleries of the British Museum can be spared, let one or two more be added, in order to render that institution the most glorious collection of art, literature, archæology, and natural history in Europe; and in order to remove the reproach to which we have hitherto been liable, of being at once the wealthiest, and of having the poorest national picture gallery of any country in the world.

SOCIAL LIFE IN PARIS-continued.

(FROM OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT.)

ON resuming our pen to say a few words more on the subject of last month, we begin to feel alarmed, and our readers very probably to share in our apprehensions, at the magnitude of the field on which we have ventured. So many subjects of remark and reflection rise up in our mind and memory that we confess to being bewildered how to choose. We are fearful of losing ourselves, as the French express it, dans le vague. But if our readers will be indulgent once more to our generalities, we have the intention of turning over a new leaf, and becoming more matter-of-fact for the future.

To follow up once more then our subject where we left it, and to illustrate as we proposed some other features of modern French life, let us, from examining the interior of the house, Asmodeus like, uncover the roof and take a peep into the interior of a Parisian ménage. Let us try to depict familiarly what in fact French life is, what the characteristics of its inmates, and its internal economy as compared with our own. That it is much more expansive, and finds a vent for its sympathies and its pleasures, its joys and its sorrows, rather in public than in private, we have already endeavoured to shew. It is a fact which displays itself indeed all around us in every café, restaurant, garden, public place, walk, and boulevard of the capital; whole families live and find their enjoyment in the open air to the utmost extent of which their climate will admit. Nevertheless there must be another scene of existence besides the public streets; domestic life cannot find its whole accomplishment out of doors; and although, as a witty Frenchman observed of his countrywomen, some of them make so little use of their houses that elles ne s'en servent absolument que pour y coucher, yet after all, a vie d'intérieur of some sort there must be; and therefore first and foremost, as the most important item in its economy, a word or two concerning French marriages.

Probably most of our readers have heard of the term mariage de convenance, and have a general idea that a

French marriage is more or less a matter of business. But it requires to be intimately acquainted with, and to have both seen and heard the details of the manœuvres and gossip of such events, to understand to what a length female diplomacy in such transactions is carried. In France, be it understood then, that for a young lady to attempt to marry herself is accounted shocking; such a thing as any "attention" being paid by the unmarried of the one sex to the unmarried of the other is quite contrary to all good morals. The state therefore of a young unmarried lady in France is one of perpetual constraint. She can scarcely stir from her mother's side, or converse with one of the opposite sex, without infringing the etiquette of society, and even compromising herself in the eyes of the jealous matrons who surround her. In her pleasures and enjoyments, even in her dress, she is barely allowed a choice, and as to venturing to shew a preference in her affections!" I should have a small opinion," said an indignant old lady, to whom we drew what we thought a charming picture of an English courtship-"I should have a small opinion of the modesty of a young lady, who could encourage a man before she was given to understand he was to be her husband." But then on the other hand it must be allowed that the young lady's chances, as far as merely getting married is concerned, are not in the least degree prejudiced by this suspicious decorum; rather the contrary; for, for a French mother not to find a parti for her daughter is a disgrace, a slur and a discredit at once both upon her management and her family connections; and the stern necessity of success at any price is but too forcibly demonstrated by the fact that for a demoiselle remaining permanently in that state, it is almost impossible to occupy creditably or comfortably any position whatever in society. The natural consequences of such a feeling on both sides is that desperate mothers and desperate daughters will do desperate things, and that anything is preferred and accepted rather than remaining single. To escape from maternal thraldom and its manoeuvring, to be mistress of her own time, toilette, movements-too often to be able to indulge concealed affections becomes the great object of maiden ambition.

Mutual preference and affection then being out of the question, the essential requisite for marriage on the part of

the lady is money, or what amounts to the same thing, family interest; while on the part of the gentleman the object of the sacrifice nine times out of ten is to find means to pay his debts. Without one or other of the above attractions, the matter is regarded on the lady's side as desperate; nothing in the shape of a man, not even un pantalon rouge from a marching regiment is to be had under less than one of these conditions.

And even supposing the gentleman to be not yet quite so far gone as to be criblé de dettes, he is certain to have, at least, mangé la fortune, and to be prudently looking out either to replace his own patrimony by his wife's dot, or procure himself a place by the interest of her connections. To supply one or other of these wants to her future partner for life, to pay his debts, set him on his legs again, find him employment, and as is very constantly the case a home amongst her own family-such is the exacted qualification for matrimony, the almost invariable fate of a French demoiselle; and when after infinite toil and difficulty her destiny is accomplished on appelle ça en France se faire une position!

The first suspicion, therefore, which flashes across the minds of the parents when they have found a young man, who presents himself as willing to be married to their daughter is, that he is in debt; and one grand reason why so many young Frenchmen are in debt is the following.

To have taken the bachelor's degree, and to have fait son droit (something like eating terms) is indispensable to all public career in France, whether in Government offices, the magistracy, or the learned professions; without both, the position of fonctionnaire so much courted in France is unattainable; and as all parents wish at least to have themselves open to such promotion for their sons, the custom of educating them for it has become almost universal, far below even the middle class of society. A wealthy cotton-spinner of Muhlhaus assured us the other day that he had his counting-house full of bachelors, whose prospects as such, had become hopeless, especially since the late change in public affairs. To obtain these requisites for future greatness a residence in Paris is necessary; and at about sixteen years of age, the majority of the respectable youths of France are left for several years together pretty much their own masters in the capital. Faire son droit, is

a term of dismal sound to most French fathers: il y en a qui mettent dix ans à le faire! said an anxious father when discussing this painful subject. The natural consequence of such a position, in such a place, at such an age, and with such a chimerical pursuit, is-debt; and the usual resource against its pressure-marriage.

The anxious mother, therefore, when the man is found, sets about deliberately to take up his character! This is no exaggeration we have heard the very term used a hundred times, "What is Madame so and so about ?" Madame est très occupée. She is going to marry her daughter. Elle prend des renseignements sur le futur.Renseignements! the very word in use for "a character." The family notaire is put on the scent; the young gentleman's tradespeople are sought out and interrogated; his cronies are pumped; no trouble is spared; but the task is difficult, and not always successful; for his creditors, if he have any, are equally interested with himself to keep his secret until the dot which is to pay them is secured. Should, however, the course of French wooing, such as it is, run smooth, the young people are made acquainted with each other, and with their fate; and the thing is consummated! that is, the lady obtains-what? a husband? pooh! that is the last thing she is thinking of! In her eyes-une corbeille! un bal! la liberté ! voilà le mariage!

Une corbeille! would that our knowledge sufficed to give our fair readers a faint idea of what we have heard and seen, as necessarily comprehended under that expansive term! Un bal! The bal de noces is her first real introduction, not into domestic life, but into the world of pleasure! La liberté! that which begins on the wedding day too often degenerates, like all liberty in France, into mere licentiousness. Long has it been pined for by many a French girl in pupillage, and when at last it comes, there is a sort of desperation in the first recklessness of its enjoyments. What a change have we not witnessed worked by a few hours of married life! the timid girl, who previously seemed to have neither will nor wish of her own, from apparent gaucherie and embarrassment, steps at once into ease and self-possession, walks the streets alone with an air of confidence, chats and flirts with whom she pleases, as though now at last she had a right to do so, sets her mother