In what is still termed _la vieille société Française_, little or nothing was left to chance, and one of its great characteristics was order and the perfectly regular play of its machinery. Everything was set down, _noted_, as it were, beforehand,--as strictly so as the ceremonies of a grand diplomatic ceremony, after some treaty, or marriage, or other occasion of solemn conference. Under this _régime_, which endured till the Revolution of '93, (and even, strangely enough, _beyond_ that period,) politeness was, of course, the one chief quality of whosoever was well brought up,--urbanity was the first sign of good company,--and for the simple reason, that no one sought to infringe. There was no cause for insolence, or for what in England is called "exclusiveness," because there was no necessity to repel any disposition to encroach. No one dreamed of the possibility of encroaching upon his neighbor's grounds, or of taking, in the slightest degree, his neighbor's place. The first French Revolution caused no such sudden and total disruption of the old social traditions as has been generally supposed; and as far as mere social intercourse and social conventionalities were concerned, there was, even amongst the terrible popular dictators of 1793, more of the _tone_ of the _ci-devant_ good company than could possibly be imagined. In later times, every one who knew Fouché remembers that he was constantly in the habit of expressing his indignation at the want of good-breeding of the young exquisites of the Empire, and used perpetually to exclaim, "In _my time_" this or that "would not have been allowed," or, "In _my_ time we were accustomed to do" so and so. Now Fouché's "time" was that which is regarded as the period of universal beheading and levelling.