and those in authority in hot water, from about 1839 to the Revolution of February, by the monthly issue of his "Guêpes" (wasps). The separate subjects were headed by different portions of this insect-here the head, there a wing, then a leg, &c. The cover of one livraison was illustrated by a scene in a court, with Karr as plaintiff, and his editeur (publisher) as defendant. The magistrate, holding a large wasp by the leg, and wielding a broad-bladed scimitar, is about to separate the animal and give a wing and its appurtenances to each pleader. The ambitious and ill-tempered Emile de Girardin, in the Presse, and Jules Janin in the Debats, galled many a nervous novelist, and more than one duel ensued. In one of these Armand Carrell of the National, was slain by Girardin the Great, the inventor of monster placards. Alexander Dumas (ipso teste) was a grand feature in both revolutions. Madame Dudevant carried pistol's in the pocket of her paletot during the royal ejectment of

1848.

Eugene Jacquot, of Mirecourt in Lorraine, having suffered many privations incident to the life of an unknown writer, presents the manuscript of "Marion de Lorme" to the Jupiter of the Presse, who inclines to receive it, if he consents to subscribe "Alexander Dumas" at the end of each feuilleton. Even hunger cannot bend his spirit to such a degradation. So he carries his copy to the offices of other papers, but finds one occupied by Les Medicis," another by "Une Fille du Regent," and the next by "La Guerre des Femmes," and all believed to be written by Dumas. Maddened by distress and resentment, he composes and gets printed, in a few days, "La Fabrique des Romans, Alexre Dumas et Cie.," in which he apportions most of Dumas' stories to Fiorentino, Paul Meurice, Mallefille, Auguste Maquet, Couilhac, &c.

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This is more than the dark and hot blood of the Great Alexander can bear. He brings Eugene before the nearest magistrate, and gets him imprisoned for fifteen days, the sympathy of the public being entirely with the prisoner, and the judge giving as little satisfaction as the law would permit to the plaintiff. During his forced repose he prepares another rod for his oppressor, and scourges him,

and Emile de Girardin, Eugene Sue, Louis Veron, and others of the sensational and irreligious school, looking on his occasional imprisonments with supreme indifference. The years 1855, '6, and '7, witnessed the chief issue of the Contemporaines, in which he lauded with considerable justice many living literary celebrities, and belaboured others without the slightest compunction. Though a sincere Churchman, and moral head of a family, he handled Proudhon, as to personal character, with much gentleness, and had sundry good words to say for Paul de Kock, who, while meandering along his slippery path, and attended by sundry disreputable characters, never gave utterance to unseemly language against religion or its ministers. Among those on whom he was most severe-— Girardin, Dumas, and Eugene Sue-he classed Veuillot, the religious champion par excellence, thus proving that he was no mere partizan. He implied that Dumas, high talk notwithstanding, had little personal courage, and presented a couple of his duels pour rire in a very laughable light.

It being our intention to enter into a few details concerning some of the literary celebrities that flourished during the period here introduced— to speak more definitely, from the revolution of July to the issue of "Les Contemporaines," we resume the subject of Alphonse Karr, already introduced.

This eccentric and clever novelist was born in Munich, in 1808, where his parents, who had been settled in Paris since 1802, were on a visit. Henri Karr, his father, a German by birth, was a distinguished musician, employed by the great house of Erard to make their pianos exhibit their fine qualities, during the visits of intending purchasers. During his stay with them he contended for the honour of the house against Thalberg; and when that great musician ceased, "to the brilliant harmony to which the visitors had just been listening, succeeded sweet and limpid variations on the air so well-known-Il pleut, il pleut, bergère. Henri Karr had skilfully chosen this theme, which the wonderful perfection of the upright piano enabled him to render with the most exquisite delicacy. You would have called it a shower of pearls, a

cascade of diamonds. Never did the thrillings of the nightingale more deliciously wake the echoes of the evening when the orange trees are in flower, when the breeze is warm, and when the bright stars sparkle in the deep azure."

Marie Louise intended to decorate him with the Cross of the Legion of Honor, but Waterloo prevented that and many other things. It was conferred on his son Alphonse, in 1842, but he at once attached it to his father's coat, and there it remained till his death in the following year. Alphonse's career at school was wayward enough. He would not attend to the ordinary lessons in Sallust, or Virgil, or Xenophon, but would earnestly study other classic authors, or perhaps passages in those school-books, but not the lessons appointed for the day. Caboche, his teacher, often espying him intent on some book in business hours, would make a descent on it, hoping to secure one of the disreputable romances of Pigault Lebrun or Crebillon Fils, but would find instead, a copy of Claudian, Terence, Horace, or Tibullus. Detentions in abundance were his lot, but his pockets were full of the Latin poets, and he laughed at confinement. Being appointed regent of a class in the College Bourbon soon after the days of July, the overseer began to find little scholastic duty achieved in the division, though there was an absence of turbulence, and on any unexpected visit he found a general air of attention pervading the desks. To find the solution of the enigma he resorted to an expedient more frequent in French than English novels-applied his ear to the key-hole. The young teacher was delivering a lecture, and this is the portion that was heard by the astonished listener :

"We find a great analogy between Lucian, author of the Dialogues of the Dead,' and one of the great writers of whom France is justly proud: I speak of Voltaire. We remark in the Greek author the same finesse, the same excellence, the same force of irony. You are yet too young to have read Voltaire. What do I see? Many of you shaking your heads.' Eh! what confounded amphigouri (rambling discourse) is he daring to deliver to the pupils ?' murmured the indiscreet censor, with his ear still applied to the key-hole. 'It is only right, my friends,' added the orator, to convince

you of the truth of the parallel I have announced. Before explaining the first 'Dialogue of the Dead,' we must read together one of the finest stories of the giant-literature of the eighteenth century. This tale is called'listener, 'this is becoming too strong.'' Eh, parbleu !' said the

So, without disturbing the interesting exposition, he betook himself to the superior; and the self-willed "regent of the fifth" found that he could not with impunity turn aside from the programme of official studies to read the stories of Voltaire to his pupils.

Karr Senior was very much chagrined at his son's rupture with the university; and as he would not be satisfied with delivering lectures of a normal and edifying character, the paternal purse was closed, and he betook himself to a garret in the Rue des Fosses St. Victor, and the composition of poetic tales. He had a comrade nearly as poor as himself, and their furniture consisted of one bed, one deal table, and two chairs. Each acted servant in turn, and performed courses in the morning for the purchase of bread, groceries, and sausages, and for making a provision of water from the next fountain. Occasionally when the sun's rays roused them to action, he who had enjoyed the dignity of master the previous day, would fancy he had acted slave, and a laughable contest would ensue before he set forth on his quests.

They were much disturbed by the lodger of the floor underneath whose delight lay in blowing melancholy music from a flute the long, long hours of the day. They expostulated with him to no purpose. So Alphonse, one day that his chum happened to be away, commissioned an Auvergnat water-carrier to fetch up a few tubs of water, and empty This being acthem on the floor. complished he stood in the doorway, and amused himself making casts with a fishing line on the diminishing lake. The notes from the next floor began to exhibit alarm, then ceased altogether, and the melomaniac rushing up stairs, exclaimed

"Monsieur, Monsieur, it's outrageous! The water is coming down on me in streams."

"That's no concern of mine," said his tormentor. You delight in

playing on the flute, I in fishing with a line; each to his taste !"*

At last our man charged with two bundles of poetry presented himself to Henri de Latouche, of the Figaro. He took the smaller packet, and printed it, desiring the author to bring some prose either in literature or politics. Karr departed in joy, reduced his poetic tale to honest prose, and headed the chapters with German quatrains to which, after the example of Sir Walter Scott, he appended the names of Goethe, Schiller, &c. It received public favour at once, and some illnatured critics, annoyed at the sudden success of a man without a name, slightingly declared that the only good things in the book, were the extracts from the German poets. Here was the ball at the foot of the young novelist. He challenged his detractors to produce the originals in any German collection, and too late they became aware of the trap laid for them. Unhappily we can praise only the evident talent by which this his first novel was distinguished. The subject was a painful one, and some of the situations are such as should never be selected for description.

His sudden elevation had an injurious effect on our poet-romancer, and soon he could enjoy no happiness except when finding himself or his works in the eyes of the public. Digito monstrar was his ambition, and this mental defect soon began to affect his writings. The spirit of his stories, at first frank and joyous, became false, affected, and lifeless.

His modes of life and his personal appearance now occupied all his attention. Leaving his comrade he took lodgings in the Rue Tronchet, where a mat did duty for chair, bed, and writing-table. He is belied if he did not receive his literary friends in a scarlet dressing-gown, and a cap a-la-Henry VIII., surmounted by three peacock's feathers. Attending a representation at the theatre, he astonished the actors and audience by a suit of deepest black, and a magnificent fireman's helmet encircling his curiously-formed head.

His ordinary promenades, however, were achieved in the habiliment

of a circus-rider-doe-skin pantaloons, riding frock, with large silver buttons, stage-boots, and whip. By way of variety he would at times assume a blouse, tattered velvet trousers, ouvrier's cap, and tobaccopipe, and traverse tea gardens and Guinguettes. It delighted him beyond measure to hear the frequenters of these cheap places of amusement, cry out to one another, "Oh, here's M. Alphonse Karr!" Finding that a hyena, which he kept by way of house-guard, frightened the bearers of proofs, in fact, kept them away altogether, he exchanged him for a magnificent Newfoundland and a Negro, whom he called Ebon-skin. Freischutz receiving every morning a two-sous piece in his mouth, walked down the Rue Vivienne, followed by Ebony and a crowd of idlers, entered the shop of a confectioner in the Palais Royal, applied his fore-paws to the rim of the counter, dropped his penny thereon, received his cake in exchange, swallowed it, and, still attended by Dark-skin and the idlers aforesaid, walked home. Of course the negro would be asked, "Who owns this magnificent animal?" and the answer was ready: "He belongs to the master to me, Messé Alponse Karr." Two thousand badauds and flaneurs that day would be taiking of the dog and the dog's master, and he would himself sometimes be found snuffing the morning's incense among the crowd.

After the mat decoration, he took into his head to hang his room in black cloth, adorned with death's heads; and he wrote and enjoyed his sleep in a coffin, furnished with a tall candlestick on each side. This property (as they say in the theatre) was changed for an apartment completely furnished in the Turkish mode.

Our versatile author now determined to become a seaman bold, made Etretat, on the coast of Normandy, his home, bronzed his face, and strengthened his arms and legs by exercising them upon the deck of a coasting boat, which he had built expressly for these healthy excursions. Later he divided his affections between coasting and cultivating flow

*

ers. His Voyage Autour de Mon Jardin is probably in the hands of some of our readers. His next residence was Sainte-Adresse, in the suburbs of Havre--a delicious abode, as most of his readers are aware. One summer, finding the sale of the Guêpes" rather languid, the report went abroad like wildfire, that the author was stark and stiff, killed in a duel the day before. All Paris was in a ferment. Thousands rushed to the office of the "Guêpes."

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Public.-Oh, is it true that M. Karr is dead?

Shopman.--Alas, it is but too true; he is dead for certain.

Public.-Have you any volumes of the "Guêpes" left?

Shopman. I think there are a few copies of most of them, and of this year's numbers.

Public.-Oh, let me have them! In two days the stock was sold, and the indignant author then, but not till then, complained of the public papers for putting him to death before his time. He was alive -very much alive-and his health in the most robust condition. "Would Messrs. the Editeurs give this malicious report their earliest contradiction?" Of course they would; and the sale of the "Guêpes" was astonishing.

Nice had the honour of furnishing our author with house and garden after Havre, and he continued thence to despatch weekly copy to the Siecle. A friend of the writer's passing through the suburbs of that old town, some years since, was attracted by the appearance of a house and nicely kept garden. He inquired of the roughly-attired gardener's assistant, then weeding a bed, to whom the place belonged. "To M. Alphonse Karr," answered he, raising his head, and scanning his questioner's face. The gentleman had seen portraits of the author of La Famille Alain, with his Chinese-shaped eyes and eyebrows, his short hair, his colourless face, firm-set lips, and piercing look, and at once recognised him. He made some complimentary remarks on the nice order of the garden, which the proprietor graciously accepted, but he omitted to ask the Perfide Anglais to lunch..

The Cross was conferred on our hero for rescuing a dragoon from the

Seine, at the risk of his own life. Among his treasured objects is a painting representing this meritorious action, and beside it hangs another valued souvenir, which he thus acquired. Karr and Jules Janin are among the most aggressive of the critic tribe, and at the same time, very sensitive to attacks made on themselves. Karr excels in epigram, as any reader of the Wasps knows well; and on one or two occasions, a certain authoress, wincing under some of his caustic attacks, determined to put a stop to his further visitations, either upon herself, or any other literary victim. Not choosing to intrust the execution of the good work to a strange hand, she waylaid him, in the evening, at his own door, and aimed a deadly weapon at his heart. Her arm, not well seconding her will, he escaped with a trifling scratch, and she had the mortification to find her unsuccessful attempt made the subject of the next number of the "Guêpes," and illustrated by a sketch of the ineffective instrument-a vulgar kitchen knife. This is the trophy that accompanies the painting already mentioned. Underneath has been emblazoned, by direction of the owner, "GIVEN BY MADAME L. C. TO M. ALPHONSE KARR, in the back!"

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There is great diversity in the merits and morals of the writings of M. Alphonse Karr. Out of the number we most cordially recommend Clovis Gosselin," "La Famille Alain," "Une Folle Histoire," "Une Histoire Invraisemblable ;" also, but not so cordially, "Geneviève," and "Agathe et Cécile." The "Voyage Autour de Mon Jardin" will continue to delight all who are slaves to the charms of flowers.

During the horrors of the first French Revolution, those who could look unmoved on the trench that encompassed the scene of suffering, filled with human blood, would dissolve in tears at the sorrows of Daphnis and Chloé while they tended their sheep. The over-refined, and thoroughly-corrupt Court of Louis XV. would faint in ecstasy before the (apparently) innocent and guileless pastoral groups of Watteau. Marmontel, acquainted with all the insincerity and innate vice of the noblesse of his time, would charm his readers with pictures of rustic simplicity and pure affection.

Alphonse Karr, imbued with the corrupt spirit of French literature, has drawn as delightful pictures of the domestic virtues, of purity of soul, of sincere affection, and unaffected piety as it has been our good-fortune to meet; and for examples we refer to the books quoted, one only of which, the "Alain Family," has been rendered into English.

On one of his early productions, not of the character of those above-named, a brother critic, M. de Molènes, remarked :

"This is a genuine effusion of youth. We find in it that fever of the heart of which the patient is cured in time, after swallowing many a bitter potion. The sources of gaiety are fresh and abundant. The suns of May and the glances of young maidens shed incessant light, and from many a page are ex

haled the sweet odours of spring. Real poesie is there to be found; not that nymph indeed whose feet rarely touch aught except the wavy summits of clouds, but she whose weary feet have wandered over the earth, and who has left so many stripes of her robe and drops of her blood on the bushes that fringed her path. For the time the writer is a musician, who is executing a fantastic and irregular melody on the keyboard of the human soul. Everything that fills the heart with accords, from the silvery ring of infancy long past, even to the melancholy and harsh notes of advanced age, joyous sounds and wailing chords clash with, or succeed each other without order or continuity, but in a fashion which disturbs and seduces. Works of this nature are rather allied to the sensuous art of music than to the severe and abstract art of the writer. They suggest the charms of essences, for they possess the magic power, the intoxicating fumes, and the dreamy delight of the nargille."

This is the style in which Karr speaks of first love, that love which is felt by honest and unhackneyed hearts:

"Hortensia soon reached the spot where her lover stood. She was much affected, and could scarcely speak. Surely any one who could have listened to the discourse of the lovers, would have thought them a ridiculous pair, so inflated and full of affectation were the little speeches of Fernand, and the few words that escaped Hortensia. But those who retain recollection of their youth can feel what divine harmonies resound in the hearts of two young people while uttering stupidities, and how their mere accents mutually fill their souls with a heavenly ecstasy, from which they cannot be drawn away by the foolish and unrea

soning phrases by which they vainly endeavour to convey to each other their new and blissful emotions."

Karr's country scenes are painted with much delicacy, and a thorough appreciation of all the charm produced by solitude, fine weather, and river scenery. These scenes enlivened, and, as it were, consecrated by such

love as is to be found in the romances of Sir Walter Scott, are among the finest things to be found in fictional

literature. Those who do not care to put themselves to the trouble of recovering their half-forgotten French, may procure the translation of the "Famille Alain," for coast and country scenes, for charming pictures of probity and the domestic virtues in the families of peasants and fishermen, and a strain of morality not exceeded by any to be found in the pages of our best English novelists.

The puns and conundrums so dear to him generally come from the mouth of some pretentious imbecile, who watches every phase of a conversation to introduce them. Here are a few for the execration of those who do not require a calembour to be translated.

"Why was NAPOLEON defeated?' 'Because he had des N mis before and behind.'

"How would you prepare a nice dish of fish from cailles (quails)?' 'Fire on them, and if you don't miss your aim they will be des truites (destruites).'

"Why am I glad to rest myself after my walk?' 'Because I have Vingt cinq shoes.' 'How is that?' 'Vingt cinq is neuf, et treize, et trois (neufs et très etroits).'"

In one of the "Guêpes" he begged the government to make shaking carpets out of windows a capital offence, for there were so many infractions of the law forbidding the practice that the executive or administrative had no time to attend to any serious concerns. In another he thus spoke of Louis Philippe's notable project :

"Apropos of the fortifications of Paris, which will not be completed in less than six or eight years (this was in 1840), we are tempted to recall to memory the miserly lord, who, hearing that his pages were illsupplied with linen, was touched with compassion. 'Alas,' cried he, the poor boys!' He called his gardener and bade him sow some hemp-seed at once. Some of the pages could not help smiling. 'Ah, the little rogues!' added he, 'how pleased they look! they're going to have new shirts.'"