The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1868-07-17
A FRENCH AUTHOR.
NJ. sasnto-Beuve at Home.

"When you issue from the new splendor OF
the Luxembourg Garden, and pass thence
through a deserted and badly paved street
whose enamelled plate bears the inscription
Rue du Montparnasse, stand still for mo-
ment in front of a small square house which
smiles in the sunshine in its neat coat of
white paint. 1t is the house of a sage.
"a study, used also as a bedroom; very
simple dining-room, two or three other rooms
that is all. But wait, forgot small garden
into which lately great many stones have
been thrown. As for the inmates of the house.
they are man of sixty, an old cook, named
Mary, a venerable hou- -ekeeper, a servant girl
who sews on shirt buttons, mends stockings,
dusts the furniture, and helps in the kitchen;
two cats, one called La Vieille, aUd the other
La Jeune; and, finally, pigeons, but very fine
hooded pigeons with coral feet, and throats
cIavatted with rubies, amethysts and eme-
raids. They are the most splendid feature of
the house.
"My dear, said friend one day to the
owner of the house, you have senatorial
pigeons
=" No; artists pigeons, he replied, with a
smile. And, in fact, the owner of the pigeon
is always an artist and thinker, philosopher
and poet and only occasionally Senator.
"Iou know whom | mean; it is Sainte-
Beuve. Well we have now placed the ladder
against the wall; let us ascend it, jump into
"1he amiable and eminent causeur de ht,1di
ESQ called from his famous cauSerieS de iuudi
in the CONSTITUTIONAL is just at his desk, in
the midst of all sorts of papers, and the Sena-
tor is just about to finish carefully pre-
pared speech.
'His study is very humble one. A bed
l told you already that he uses it also as a
bedchamber-an ingeniOusly constructed easy
chair, presented to him recently by high
W Wln IL alsO lndyy Of art nd nd
standing, a plaster bust of the Princess
Mathide, and pastel painted by the princess
an exquisite wOrk-believed to be the pOr-
trait of Madame Lenoir, the wife of the former
police lieutenant.
''M Sainte- Beuve works every day from
eight in the morning till four in the afternoon,
and interrupts his labor only by taking light
lunch.
che very fond of butter, and has always
some within reach, in a shell-shaped butter
vessel, into which he puts few pieces of ice
as soon as warm weather sets in. He himself
cuts his sandwiches and spreads the butter on
them; he eats butter with everything, even
with fruit.
''At four O'clock provided he is not in the
Senate, he regularly takes walk previous to
his dinner.
81 mentioned Mary, the cook of the house.
She understands the culinary art to perfection
and is unsurpassed in her speciality, kidneys
done in ragout. Merinee, the prince of gour-
NETS, tasted them, and swore that Mary was
an artist.
"Veron was down on Mary's master for
several years. Do you know the reason why
Because Sainte- Beuve had dared to compare
Mary with his peerless Sophie. The Doctor,
who, previous to this incident, had been on
very intimate terms with Sainte- Beuve, retired
jealousy into his tent. | believe he forgave
him only on his death bed.
How abOminable, sir, how abominable,'
exclaimed Mary, the other day, on reading the
newspaper articles on Sainte Beuve's roast
beef dinner on Good Friday; and she added
And they have not said anything about
my cream sauce and my crawfsh.'
The author of the History OF Poetry in
the Sixteenth Century, of 'Volupte,' and so
many. other masterpieces of style, elegance,
and Depth receives from time to time at his
table few friends, Prince Napoleon, Taine,
About, Merimee, Charles Robin, and then the
wit of this pleiade is equal to Mary's sauces.
'Here is a peculiar feature of these dinners.
AT dessert, the host always causes tray with
small glasses to be placed before him. Two
bottles are also there; one of them contains
rum, and the other Curacao. With the utmost
care he fills each glass half with rum, and half
with Curacao, and courteOusly hands to every
guest this very agreeable and invigorating
mixture. At the college we called this beve-
that We had rocamboles-conac and Curacoa
and white rocamboles - kirschwasser aud
anisette.
"But NJ Sainte- Beuve, or rather NJ. de-
Sainte- e-Beuve, receives also a large number of
other friends; they are the poor OF that quarter
of the city, who find at this humble house
clothing, bread, etc.
During his last illness Sainte- -Bsuve, aprey
to acute suffering, called his housekeeper to
his bedside, and said to her
"'Take five hundred francs from the bureau
and distribute them Immediately. Go, and
make hastel
IN de Sainte, B7uve is on excellent terms
with his curate-the curate of Notre Dame des
Champs-whom he calls human saint. He is
also on terms of friendship and esteem with
the curate of nt-Sulpice. do not believe
that he is acquainted With NJ. VeuillOt.
/ 81 said that this street was in very bad
condition. This dsquiets him-particularly
on Sundays and Mondays. The street is ad-
Joining TO the JQrriere.
60. Il shall have a sidewalk made, he said
the other day, to About, "a sidewalk for the
drunkards.'
/ 'He possesses the politeness of gentle
man of the old school, coupled with the sim
plicity Of child For yes or no he always
sends his card, with thanks, in his own hand
writing.
"At the entrance of his cabinet is a step.
" Beware of falling on the step,' he said
when be was still confined to his bed, to every
visitor who came in or went out.
"Ah what an amiable man he is, and wha
q man
at is, perhaps, not generally known tha
Sainte. Beuve originally intended to become
ply sician, and that he passed through thre
s..r1, INIT NfoVNn