- And What
Became Of The Concert, St. Cecilia, Who I Suppose Was At It, Knows
More Than I.
I will only add, that the connexion which arose out of the
translation gave me more pleasure than any one I had the honour to
make in Italy.
THE DWARF. PARIS.
I had never heard the remark made by any one in my life, except by
one; and who that was will probably come out in this chapter; so
that being pretty much unprepossessed, there must have been grounds
for what struck me the moment I cast my eyes over the parterre, -
and that was, the unaccountable sport of Nature in forming such
numbers of dwarfs. - No doubt she sports at certain times in almost
every corner of the world; but in Paris there is no end to her
amusements. - The goddess seems almost as merry as she is wise.
As I carried my idea out of the Opera Comique with me, I measured
every body I saw walking in the streets by it. - Melancholy
application! especially where the size was extremely little, - the
face extremely dark, - the eyes quick, - the nose long, - the teeth
white, - the jaw prominent, - to see so many miserables, by force of
accidents driven out of their own proper class into the very verge
of another, which it gives me pain to write down: - every third man
a pigmy! - some by rickety heads and hump backs; - others by bandy
legs; - a third set arrested by the hand of Nature in the sixth and
seventh years of their growth; - a fourth, in their perfect and
natural state like dwarf apple trees; from the first rudiments and
stamina of their existence, never meant to grow higher.
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