French talk is tired of political prognostic, and has yielded itself, with characteristic indolence and insouciance, to the gayeties of the mi-caréme. Balls have broken the solemnities of Lent, and a new drama of the younger Dumas, which turns upon the life and fortunes of a courtisane of the last century, seems to chime with the humor of the time.
The broidered coats are thickening under imperial auspices; and Napoleon is winning a host of firm supporters among the broidering girls of Nancy and of the metropolis. The Americans, it would seem, are doing their part toward the festivities of the season; and forget Lent and Republic, in the hilarity of balls and routs. An American club, holding its meetings in the old saloon of Frascati, is among the on dits of the winter.
A proposition for shaving the beards of judges and advocates, has wakened the apprehensions of all the benchers; and, in defense of their old-time prerogatives, the subjects of the proposed edict have brought to light an old pleading for their hirsute fancies, which may well have its place.
The shaved chin is an incongruity as connected with the toga; the beard, on the contrary, is in perfect keeping. If it had not existed by a wise provision of Providence, it must have been invented. What more imposing spectacle than a court rendering a solemn decree, in the presence of both chambers—and what measure of authority would not the white beard of the judge give to the sentence he pronounces!
If then, you have a real care for your dignity, oh magistrates, curb not the flowing beard, but rather tempt its honors, with all the aids of art. And if the eccentric sallies of some brother gownsman, or some naïve testimony of an unkempt witness, put your gravity in peril, you can laugh—in your beard. Thus nature will have her rights, and your dignity rest unmolested.
We commend these opinions to their honors of the New York Bench; only adding, that such aldermanic judges as are proof against wit—as they are proof against sense, might yet value the beard to hide their blushes.
All European travelers know the value and the awkwardness of passports, and the importance of securing them en regle.
The Count B——, wishing latterly to pass into Austria with a domestic and a favorite horse, sent to the legation for the necessary papers, charging his secretary to see that all was in order.
"As to the domestic," said the official, "he will have a separate passport; but there are some formalities as to the horse; we must have a perfect description of him, to insert in the passport of his owner."