We will now take you to Malmaison, the interesting retreat of the interesting Joséphine. Her character was scarcely known in England. We hear little more of her than as a discarded Empress or Mistress of Buonaparte's, but she had much to recommend her to public as well as private notice. The French all speak highly of her, and it is impossible, on seeing Malmaison and hearing of her virtues, not to join in their opinion. To be sure, as a Frenchman told me in running through a list of virtues, "Elle avait été un peu libertine, mais ce n'est rien cela," and, indeed, I could almost have added, "C'est bien vrai," for every allowance should be made; consider the situation in which she was placed, her education, her temptations; many a saint might have fallen from the eminence on which she stood; I never dwelt with more satisfaction or felt more inclined to coincide in that benevolent verdict of the best of judges of human nature and human frailty, "Neither do I condemn thee, go and sin no more," than in criticising the character of Joséphine. [Illustration: MALMAISON] I am not sure whether you know exactly the history of Malmaison. The house and land attached to it were purchased by Buonaparte when First Consul, and given to Joséphine, who made it what it is, and bought more land, so that it is now in fact a little Estate. On being divorced, she retired thither with Eugène Beauharnais, her son, and younger children. Her pursuits and occupations will be best understood by describing what we saw. I should say, before I proceed, that it required some interest to get in, and that we went with the Hibberts, who knew the secretary of the Swedish Ambassador, in whose suite we were incorporated for admission. The chief room in the house is what is called the Gallery A, planned and finished according to her own designs; the floor is a mass of dark inlaid marble, the ceiling arched and light admitted from it, the whole not much unlike the Gallery at Winnington on a much larger scale. It would be difficult to describe the fitting up of the interior. The walls are hung with the most exquisite selections from ancient Masters, not stolen, but many given to her, and the rest purchased by herself; but I was more struck by the statues than with any thing else. The dots represent them and their situations in the Gallery; they are chiefly by two modern artists, Canova and Boher, though I fear the reputation of my taste and judgment will suffer by the confession. I still must confess that I felt far more pleasure than in looking either upon Apollo or the Venus de Medicis. There was a Bust and Statue of herself, the latter particularly beautiful, and if accurate, which I was assured it was, the original must have been elegant and interesting to the last degree. It reminded me much of Lady Charlemont, with a stronger expression of sense. The rest of the room was furnished with tables inlaid with marble, upon which were a variety of bronzes, pieces of