THERE has been too much said and written in the last dozen years about breaking down the "great wall" behind which the aristocrats of the famous Faubourg, like the Celestials, their prototypes, have ensconced themselves.The Chinese speak of outsiders as "barbarians." The French ladies refer to such unfortunates as being "beyond the pale." Almost all that has been written is arrant nonsense; that imaginary barrier exists to-day on as firm a foundation, and is guarded by sentinels as vigilant as when, forty years ago, Napoleon (third of the name) and his Spanish spouse mounted to its assault.
Their repulse was a bitter humiliation to the PARVENUE Empress, whose resentment took the form (along with many other curious results) of opening the present Boulevard St.Germain, its line being intentionally carried through the heart of that quarter, teeming with historic "Hotels" of the old aristocracy, where beautiful constructions were mercilessly torn down to make way for the new avenue.The cajoleries which Eugenie first tried and the blows that followed were alike unavailing.Even her worship of Marie Antoinette, between whom and herself she found imaginary resemblances, failed to warm the stony hearts of the proud old ladies, to whom it was as gall and wormwood to see a nobody crowned in the palace of their kings.Like religious communities, persecution only drew this old society more firmly together and made them stand by each other in their distress.When the Bois was remodelled by Napoleon and the lake with its winding drive laid out, the new Court drove of an afternoon along this water front.
That was enough for the old swells! They retired to the remote "Allee of the Acacias," and solemnly took their airing away from the bustle of the new world, incidentally setting a fashion that has held good to this day; the lakeside being now deserted, and the "Acacias" crowded of an afternoon, by all that Paris holds of elegant and inelegant.