The house of the Duc de Guiche is a picture of English comfort and
French elegance united; and that portion of it appropriated to its fair
mistress is fitted up with exquisite taste. Her _salons_ and _boudoir_
are objects of _vertù, bijouterie_, and vases of old Sèvre, enough to
excite envy in those who can duly appreciate such treasures, and tempt
to the violation of the tenth commandment. Order reigns in the whole
arrangement of the establishment, which, possessing all the luxurious
appliances of a _maison montée_, has all the scrupulous cleanliness of
that of a Quaker.

Went to the Opera last night, where I saw the _début_ of the new
_danseuse_ Taglioni. Hers is a totally new style of dancing; graceful
beyond all comparison, wonderful lightness, an absence of all violent
effort, or at least of the appearance of it, and a modesty as new as it
is delightful to witness in her art. She seems to float and bound like
a sylph across the stage, never executing those _tours de force_ that
we know to be difficult and wish were impossible, being always
performed at the expense of decorum and grace, and requiring only
activity for their achievement.

She excited the most rapturous applause, and received it with a "decent
dignity," very unlike the leering smiles with which, in general, a
_danseuse_ thinks it necessary to advance to the front of the
proscenium, shewing all her teeth, as she lowly courtesies to the
audience.

There is a sentiment in the dancing of this charming votary of
Terpsichore that elevates it far beyond the licentious style generally
adopted by the ladies of her profession, and which bids fair to
accomplish a reformation in it.