J’ai partage pendant vingt ans les travaux de mon oncle pour former la bibliotheque de la couronne, et j’ai du, ainsi que lui, etre mis a la retraite au moment de la promotion du nouveau Conservateur.”  CRAPELET, vol. iv. p. 45.

I will not pretend to say what were the causes which led to such a disgraceful, because wholly unmerited, result.  But I have reason to BELIEVE that a dirty faction was at work, to defame the character of the Librarian, and in consequence, to warp the judgment of the Monarch.  Nothing short of infidelity to his trust should have moved SUCH a Man from the Chair which he had so honourably filled in the private Library of Louis XVIII.  But M. Barbier was beyond suspicion on this head; and in ability he had perhaps, scarcely an equal—­in the particular range of his pursuits.  His retreating PENSION was a very insufficient balm to heal the wounds which had been inflicted upon him; and it was evident to those, who had known him long and well, that he was secretly pining at heart, and that his days of happiness were gone.  He survived the dismissal from his beloved Library only five years:  dying in the plenitude of mental vigour.  I shall always think of him with no common feelings of regret:  for never did a kinder heart animate a well-stored head.  I had hoped, if ever good fortune should carry me again to Paris, to have renewed, in person, an acquaintance, than which none had been more agreeable to me, since my first visit there in 1818:  But ...  “Diis aliter visum est.”  There is however a mournful pleasure in making public these attestations to the honour of his memory; and, in turn, I must be permitted to quote from the same author as the nephew of M. Barbier has done....

      His saltem accumulem donis, et fungar inani
      Munere....

Perhaps the following anecdote relating to the deceased, may be as acceptable as it is curious.  Those of my readers who have visited Paris, will have constantly observed, on the outsides of houses, the following letters, painted in large capitals: 

        MACL: 

    implying—­as the different emblems of our Fire Offices imply—­

        “M[aison] A[ssuree] C[ontre] L’[incendie]:” 

in plain English, that such houses are insured against fire.  Walking one afternoon with M. Barbier, I pointed to these letters, and said, “You, who have written upon Anonymes and Pseudonymes, do you know what those letters signify?” He replied, “Assuredly—­and they can have but one meaning.”  “What is that?” He then explained them as I have just explained them.  “But (rejoined I) since I have been at Paris, I have learnt that they also imply another meaning.”  “What might that be?” Stopping him, and gently touching his arm, and looking round to see that we were not overheard, I answered in a suppressed tone:—­

        “M[es] A[mis] C[hassez] L[ouis].”