from so dangerous and disreputable a pitfall as originality, which, with her, means pronounced eccentricity. When she lives in Paris she dresses well; but the province often transforms her into an inconceivable shape of dowdiness. In Paris, thanks to the lectures, music, drama, literature, the multiple elements of culture, it is impossible for her to escape, unless her days be entirely devoted to domestic economy and good works; she is rarely destitute of that agreeable worldliness that makes commerce with her, however shallow and superficial she may be, facile and often instructive. And when she has the hardihood to plunge into deeper waters and think for herself, when she ceases to be beset with a craving for the ordered in conventional circles, and to think ill of originality and individual character; there is no woman on earth more charming, more capable, of readier wit, of less intellectual prudery, wedded to a wholesome independence of judgment and principle.
But as I have said, the amusements of the bourgeoise, "big" or "little," are very restricted: books, theatres, balls, dinner-parties, with the excitement of religious ceremonies, an academy reception, a noisy sitting of Parliament, the hourly expectation of revolution, a correct evening party,—the dullest thing on earth where-*ever it takes place. But, on the other hand, we may be sure she will find ample entertainment
