And such like tittle-tattle _ad nauseam_, not sparing his own father and brother. Imagine the sort of man who, night after night, could sit down and chuckle over the composition of this precious diary! "With the exception of the President and the Princess" (+Mathilde+, at whose house he was perpetually dining), he says, "all the (+Buonaparte+) family are good for nothing." Of the _bourgeois_ class he writes, "They are always the same stupid, craven-hearted, vain race." He was shocked at the production of _La Dame aux Camelias_, and considered it as a degradation of the French stage and a disgrace to the Public that patronised the performance. To have shocked M. +de Viel Castel+ was a feat indeed. +Fould+ "the foxy Jew" got ten millions out of the Crédit Foncier; so the public was fool'd also. +D'Orsay+ was "a ridiculous old doll," and the Duke of +Brunswick+ "an old fool." He sneered at England, but considered at the moment that an alliance with us was the best policy. The Empress at one time went in for spirit-rapping, and consulted a table which told her a variety of lies about the result and duration of the Crimean War. Such a table must have been very black and supported by blacklegs, though it had sufficient french polish about it to be silent in the presence of a bishop. It is not until the last page of the _Memoirs_, 1864, that the name of M. +de Bismarck+ appears. I suppose that "Society," high, low, or middle-class, has always gone on in much the same way, more or less openly, according to the spirit of the Court, since what is called "Society" came into existence; and invariably with a +Viel Castel+, or a +Greville+, or some one even less particular and more observant "among them takin' notes" for future publication. Mr. Bousfield, the translator, seems to have done his work with a judicious regard for a certain section of English readers. It strikes me that he has had the good taste to omit a few anecdotes about some of our own exalted personages which would not have been received with unmixed satisfaction in every quarter. This is only a surmise on my part, as I am unacquainted with the original work. Let me recommend everyone who values a powerful study of character more than a merely cleverly-constructed story, to read _Marzio's Crucifix_, by +Marion Crawford+. I do not know what special opportunities the author had for the work, but the characters are individually, masterpieces. The scene between _Marzio_ and _Don Paolo_, when the latter is wrapt in devout contemplation of the artist's _chef d'[oe]uvre_, is most striking, and would have been more so had _Marzio_ carried out his intention of knocking his brother down, and disposing of him out of hand.