public pretends that we are seeking each other.’  The Duc de Bourbon, removing his hat, replied, ’Monsieur, I am here to receive your orders.’ — ‘To execute your own,’ returned the Comte d’Artois, ‘but you must allow me to return to my carriage.’  He comes back with a sword, and the duel begins.  After a certain time they are separated, the seconds deciding that honor is satisfied, ’It is not for me to express an opinion,’ says the Comte d’Artois, ’Monsieur le Duc de Bourbon is to express his wishes; I am here only to receive his orders.’ — ‘Monsieur,’ responds the Duc de Bourbon, addressing the Comte d’Artois, meanwhile lowering the point of his sword, ’I am overcome with gratitude for your kindness, and shall never be insensible to the honor you have done me.’ " — Could there be a more just and delicate sentiment of rank, position, and circumstance, and could a duel be surrounded with more graces?  There is no situation, however thorny, which is not saved by politeness.  Through habit, and a suitable expression, even in the face of the king, they conciliate resistance and respect.  When Louis XV, having exiled the Parliament, caused it to be proclaimed through Mme. Du Barry that his mind was made up and that it would not be changed, “Ah, Madame,” replied the Duc de Nivernais, “when the king said that he was looking at yourself.” — “My dear Fontenelle,” said one of his lady friends to him, placing her hand on his heart, “the brain is there likewise.”  Fontenelle smiled and made no reply.  We see here, even with an academician, how truths are forced down, a drop of acid in a sugar-plum; the whole so thoroughly intermingled that the piquancy of the flavor only enhances its sweetness.  Night after night, in each drawing-room, sugar-plums of this description are served up, two or three along with the drop of acidity, all the rest not less exquisite, but possessing only the sweetness and the perfume.  Such is the art of social worldliness, an ingenious and delightful art, which, entering into all the details of speech and of action, transforms them into graces; which imposes on man not servility and falsehood, but civility and concern for others, and which, in exchange, extracts for him out of human society all the pleasure it can afford.

V. Happiness.

What constitutes happiness in the 18th Century. — The fascination of display. — Indolence, recreation, light conversation.

One can very well understand this kind of pleasure in a summary way, but how is it to be made apparent?  Taken by themselves the pastimes of society are not to be described; they are too ephemeral; their charm arises from their accompaniments.  A narrative of them would be but tasteless dregs, does the libretto of an opera give any idea of the opera itself? — If the reader would revive for himself this vanished world let him seek for it in those works that have preserved its externals or its accent, and first in