MSS. in the Royal Library, when the regular time of attendance in that place was closed.  The other day, we had a superb dejeune a la fourchette at M. Millin’s—­about three o’clock.  It was attended by two Marchionesses, of the bas bleu order; and by the whole corps of the confreres bibliographiques of the Royal Library.  Several other literary distingues were of the party:  and we sat down, a very agreeable melange, both to gossip and to eat and drink.  M. Langles was all animation and all intelligence; and M. Van Praet seemed for a time to have forgotten VELLUM ARISTOTLES and VIRGILS in alternate libations of champagne and noyeau.  Meanwhile, the worthy Gail, by his playful sallies and repartees, afforded a striking contrast to the balanced attitude and grave remarks of the respectable Caperonnier, the senior Librarian.  Poor Millin himself had no appetite, but picked a little here and there.  We sat down about fourteen; rose at six—­to coffee and conversazione; and retired shortly after:  some to the theatre, and others to their country houses.  This is pretty nearly a correct picture of the bettermost society of Paris at this time of the year.

In regard to the literary reputation of MILLIN, I well know that, in England, it is rather the fashion to sneer at him; but this sneer may proceed as often from ignorance, as from superiority of information.  The truth is, M. Millin does too much to do every thing well.  At one moment, he is busied with a dyptych:  at another, he is examining a coin or a medal:  during the third, he is lost in admiration over a drawing of a tomb or statue:—­his attendant enters with a proof-sheet to engage his fourth moment—­and so it goes on—­from sunrise to sunset; with pen in hand, or blank or printed paper before him, he is constantly occupied in the pursuit of some archaeological enquiry or other.  THIS praise, however—­and no mean or unperishable praise it is—­most indisputably belongs to him.  He was almost the ONLY ONE in France; who, during the reign of terror, bloodshed, and despotism—­cherished and kept alive a taste for NATIONAL ANTIQUITIES.  But for his perseverance, and the artists employed by him, we should not now have had those graphic representations of many buildings, and relics of art, which have since perished irretrievably.  Another praise also belongs to him; of no very insignificant description.  He is among the most obliging and communicative of literary Parisians; and does not suffer his good nature to be soured, or his activity to abate, from the influence of national prejudice.  He has a large acquaintance among foreigners; and I really think that he loves the English next best to his own countrymen.  But whoever applies to him with civility, is sure to be as civilly received.  So much for MILLIN.[160]