The rage for emigration, and the approach of the Austrians, have
occasioned many restrictions on travelling, especially near the seacoast
of frontiers. No person can pass through a town without a passport from
the municipality he resides in, specifying his age, the place of his
birth, his destination, the height of his person, and the features of his
face. The Marquis de C____ entered the town yesterday, and at the gate
presented his passport as usual; the guard looked at the passport, and in
a high tone demanded his name, whence he came, and where he was going.
M. de C____ referred him to the passport, and suspecting the man could
not read, persisted in refusing to give a verbal account of himself, but
with much civility pressed the perusal of the passport; adding, that if
it was informal, Monsieur might write to the municipality that granted
it. The man, however, did not approve of the jest, and took the Marquis
before the municipality, who sentenced him to a month's imprisonment for
his pleasantry.
The French are becoming very grave, and a bon-mot will not now, as
formerly, save a man's life.--I do not remember to have seen in any
English print an anecdote on this subject, which at once marks the levity
of the Parisians, and the wit and presence of mind of the Abbe Maury.--At
the beginning of the revolution, when the people were very much incensed
against the Abbe, he was one day, on quitting the Assembly, surrounded by
an enraged mob, who seized on him, and were hurrying him away to
execution, amidst the universal cry of _a la lanterne! a la lanterne!_
The Abbe, with much coolness and good humour, turned to those nearest him,
_"Eh bien mes amis et quand je serois a la lanterne, en verriez vous plus
clair?"_ Those who held him were disarmed, the bon-mot flew through the
croud, and the Abbe escaped while they were applauding it.
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