and therewith the exchange-tables and the rates of stocks, and selfishness and meanness!"
He is not altogether inappropriately called an Atlas. Perier is an uncommonly great, broad-shouldered man, of powerful bony structure and very robust in general appearance. There are erroneous ideas current as to his looks, partly because the journals are always speaking of his feeble health to irritate him who is so thoroughly sound, and would fain remain President of the Council, partly because the most exaggerated anecdotes are told of his irritation, and the nervous passion which he displays in public is believed to be his normal condition. But the man is altogether a different being when seen in the domestic circle, in society, and, above all, in a quiet state. For then his face assumes, instead of the inspired and elevated or depressed expressions peculiar to the tribune, a truly imposing dignity, his form rises with more manly beauty and dignity, and he is seen with pleasure so long as he does not speak. In this respect he is quite the contrary of the femme du bureau in the Café Colbert,[1] who seems to be almost plain so long as she is silent, but whose face is brightly charming as soon as she opens her mouth to speak.
- ↑ French version—"Sous ce rapport, il est tout l'opposé de la dame du comptoir de mon café de prédilection."
