The tragedian's dwelling formerly belonged to Walewski, the present French Minister at London, but she has altered and remodelled it to such an extent that nothing remains of the original fabric except the foundation and the outer walls. The exterior presents nothing remarkable; four windows on a floor in front, first floor over an entresol, and servants' rooms over that. Entrance by a porte-cochère, like almost all French town-houses, but the gate is oak, and the carriage-way floored with wood to deaden the sound of wheels. Square court-yard with fountain, and ivy round the sides. Gothic staircase elaborately carved in stone, and mysteriously lighted from above by a dome of colored glass. On the entresol an antechamber in oak; dining-room to the left in Etruscan style, containing a splendid collection of antique vases. Between the dining-room and kitchen is a butler's pantry, where a richly carved oaken closet holds a magnificent service of plate, made partly in Paris and partly in London, and valued at $20,000, or more. All this story is laid down with Turkey carpeting, a rare thing in France, where the dining-rooms and antechambers of even the finest houses have seldom anything to show but the polished floor. On the right is a parlor opening on the court by three windows, and commanding a fine lookout over the neighboring gardens. The ceiling of this room is white, the walls hung with chintz of a Chinese pattern, large crimson flowers on a sea-green ground. Curtains, sofas, &c., to match; the rest of the furniture buhl-work, except some fancy arm-chairs of different stuffs, silk, velvet, and brocatel. Here is an endless collection of nicknacks, Dresden and Sevres China, Louis XIV. enamels, ivories, bronzes; among other curiosities a strange collection of Asiatic weapons. There are also several valuable paintings by Boucher, Isabey, Tony-Johannot, and other native artists of different periods. Chinese and Japanese vases (for which clumsy objects all the French have a weakness) complete the picture. This parlor opens into the library in a wing of the main building. The furniture of this room is carved oak, the walls and ceiling draped in myrtle-green cachemire. The tragedian's desk, richly carved and covered with green velvet, stands on the left of the door, with a Venetian mirror just behind it. The whole length of the wall opposite the three windows, as well as the spaces between the windows, is occupied by bookcases. Rachel's library comprises about four thousand volumes, all in very quiet bindings.
The second story, or the first floor over the entresol, is in white wood and gilding (a usual French drawing-room style), carpeted with purple flowers on a white ground. A large crimson sofa in the antechamber is flanked by two busts of Clesinger's on pedestals, Tragedy and Comedy. On the right is the grand drawing-room, running the whole width of the house. The panels of its walls are adorned with groups of children and cupids, by the celebrated painter, Charles Muller. The white marble mantel-piece is carved with arabesque and allegorical masques. The sofas and chairs are purple brocatel with carved gilt frames, the rest of the furniture rosewood with bronze medallions. The clocks, candelabras, and bracelets are or-molu of the most costly workmanship. It is hardly necessary to say that there is great abundance of looking-glasses; they all bear their owner's cypher on their gilt frames. Among other objects of art in this room is a bust of Napoleon as First Consul, by Canova. On the right of the antechamber is the show bedroom (Rachel, like many other Frenchwomen, has a quieter one for use in the third story). The bed has purple velvet curtains, a Turkish carpet of silk and gold embroidery for a quilt, and a lion-skin for a foot-rug. The furniture is rosewood, with medallions of Sevres china. A likeness of Adrienne Lecouvreur, in tapestry, and a marble bust of Taglioni, are the most conspicuous of the works of art in which this room abounds. A secret door near the bed leads into a little boudoir on the Chinese style, all lacquer, vermilion, and porcelain. The dressing-room is hung with chintz, garlands of flowers on a blue striped ground. The walls of the bath-room are sea-green stucco.
THERE is no trifling with nature; it is always true, grave, and severe; it is always in the right, and the faults and errors fall to our share. It defies incompetency, but reveals its secrets to the competent, the truthful, and the pure.
THE following we extract from the "Journal of Health":
PALPITATION OF THE HEART CURED BY SODA-WATER.—A lady, about forty years of age, had suffered for twelve years from periodical attacks of palpitation of the heart, so violent as to shake the bed on which the patient lay. During one attack, feeling thirsty, she expressed a desire for some soda-water. No sooner had she swallowed the first draught than her palpitation left her, and recurred no more until the period of the next attack. As soon as it commenced, she sent for her medical attendant, and told him what had occurred a month previously, and requested to be allowed to try the same remedy a second time. He consented, but, wishing to ascertain which of the ingredients of the soda-water had relieved the complaint, he gave her a dose of citric acid by itself. This had no effect. He then gave her a dose of carbonate of soda, which also failed. He then mixed the powders, and gave her some ordinary soda-water, placing his hand at the same time on her heart. The moment she swallowed the first mouthful, the palpitation ceased, and recurred no more for that time. From that period, whenever the palpitation came on, she could always stop it by this simple remedy. It appears, from the experiments made by medical men, that the carbonic acid was the active element in relieving the complaint, because, until the gas was liberated by the mixture of citric acid and the carbonate of soda, no benefit accrued.
A FRENCH surgeon has written a discourse to prove that the more a patient cries and groans during a surgical operation, the more likely he is to survive it.