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[234] rows in the pit, I might have mistaken them for Cantabs, if the sounds of French from all quarters, penetrating my ear, had not keenly reminded me that I was not in my own country. Mademoiselle Mars was, I should think, rather under the common height, and of a neat and beautiful figure. Her eyes were brilliant; and her teeth, hair, and bust all good,—though nobody can tell what of these is the gift of God, or of the dentist or milliner. The theatre of the Odeon is very pretty.

To George S. Hillard.

Paris, Jan. 13, 1838.
my dear George,—. . .You can imagine my feelings in such a scene as I passed through to-day [the Louvre], when you think that Mr. Sears's house was my type of a palace, the Athenaeum Gallery, of a collection of paintings, and the plaster casts in the Athenaeum reading-room and Felton's study, of a collection of antiques. My voyage has already been compensated for-sea-sickness, time, money, and all—many times over. It was fully paid for at Rouen. All that I have seen since is clear gain. But still I cannot forget dear Boston and friends there, and long much to hear of you. I sadly fear that all of you will delay writing me until you hear from me, which will serve me badly, as I shall then be without letters from you for many months. Tell my friends to write; let me know all the news,—law, literature, politics, love, and matrimony. Before this letter can reach you Cleveland will be a married man; give my love to him, if he is in Boston. I have already written him to the care of Bishop Doane, Burlington. Tell Miss Austin that I had the happiness of placing her little packet in Mrs. Ticknor's hands on New Year's morning. Mrs. T. is delightful, and it does me good to see her. Every evening of my first week in Paris I passed with her.

As ever, affectionately yours,

C. S.
Have seen Mademoiselle Mars in Moliere's Les Femmes Savantes. It was a treat which I shall never forget. Her voice is like a silver flute; her eye like a gem. Have met several professors.


Jan. 13, 1838. Called on my friends the Ticknors,—it being the first time I had been to the boulevards since I left them last Monday: it is now Saturday. Found Mrs. T. as agreeable and friendly as ever; full of kindness to me. Mr. T. was not at home at first; he however returned soon, having in the mean time been to my lodgings in search of me. While with them I

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