CHAPTER II.

"I see thee yet, fair France, thou favour'd land
Of art and nature, thou art still before me;
Thy sons, to whom their labour is as sport,
So will the grateful soil return its tribute;

Thy sun-burnt daughters, with their laughing eyes
And glossy raven locks. But, favour'd France,
Thou hast had many a tale of woe to tell

In ancient times as now."-ANON.

Friday morning. Rose at eight o'clock, came down to breakfast-no easy task-having seventy steps to descend, all of polished oak, and bees-waxed till they shone like a mirror. We made our bow to madame, and ordered breakfast. During the time we were eating and drinking we had full opportunity to look about us, both indoors and out. Our hotel on the ground floor displayed all, through its open front to every eye, and we were the observed of all who choose to notice as they lounged and sauntered past. After our morning repast. we went to the Madeleine, whose exterior is a copy of a Greek temple, an oblong hall, surrounded by massive Corinthian pillars. No one passing it would suppose it to be a church. The length of it is one hundred and forty yards, and the breadth forty-six yards; no insignificant size. We entered it and found an air of splendour about it, imparted by the lavish gilding, rich marbles, and the beautiful paintings. I could not help thinking as we lounged through this and other magnificent specimens of ecclesiastical architecture, how the English seem to saunter in and out of these sacred edifices, as if they had been designed for their especial holiday gratification. Whilst in the Madeleine the service

commenced, and we watched the proceedings for some time. We commented perhaps too freely on the mummeries being enacted, and then moved on, criticising the paintings and statuary; and I am afraid by the manner we seemed to peer about, lest we should miss anything, that we should come under the class which a writer has stigmatized as follows:-Go to, I say, you English tourists, you are not decent, you lack that reverence for solemn things venerated by millions, whose creed is other than yours, which should move you to bow the head in the temple of the Romanist, or in the mosque of the turbaned Greek, for although his faith be false, it is with his whole heart that he is praying to Allah; He is praying, and the cathedral or mosque is sanctified by his prayers." The cost of the Madeleine was above half-a-million sterling. It was first founded under Louis XV; then transformed by a decree of Napoleon I. into a Temple of Fame, in which the soldiers of the grand army were to assemble, in order to celebrate with odes and orations the victories of Austerlitz and Jena. It was completed in Louis Philippe's reign, and it is justly considered one of the finest monuments of Paris.

From the Madeleine a few steps brought us into the Place de la Concorde. This is the largest square in Europe, and a sight of it is well worth a long journey. In the centre is the Luxor column, an obelisk brought from Egypt, and erected at a cost of £80,000; and it is placed on the exact spot where the guillotine stood. What a terrible drama was enacted on this spot in 1794, during the Reign of Terror! So numerous were the executions that an immense reservoir had to be made to receive the flow of blood; and at the hour of execution

four men were employed in emptying the buckets into the reservoir. Louis XVI, Maria Antoinette, Charlotte Corday, Danton, Robespierre, and others suffered here. How appropriate was Chateaubriand's suggestion "that a large fountain should be erected on this spot, with an inscription declaring that all the water in the world would not wash away the blood which had been shed there." On each side of the obelisk is a fountain in bronze. The square connects the gardens of the Tuileries with the Champs Elysées or Elysian Fields. We crossed the square and entered the gardens. How shall I describe the scene before us? This charming place is about half-a-mile long, and nearly one-fourth of a mile wide. On the eastern side is the Imperial Palace of the Emperor, extending the entire width of the gardens. We mounted an elevated terrace, commanding an entire view of the place-seventy acres in extent; one half of which is shadowed by lofty trees, beneath which we found smooth promenades and grassy enclosures. The attractions of the place were heightened by the multitudes of people that were there. Hundreds, nay thousands of people were moving along the avenues, crossing each other in all directions. It was a scene of unmixed beauty and enjoyment. During our stay in Paris we often repeated our visits to these gardens. At three o'clock in the afternoon every day, it is said that twenty thousand persons, three-fourths of whom are women and children, may be seen here. Not having time to loiter here, we entered Rue Rivoli or Rivoli street, and proceeded on our way to Notre Dame. During this walk our olfactory nerves were regaled with scents which had never come from Araby or Cologne. For a while we could not find out the cause, but in the end we

discovered it to arise from certain regulations in the street, which cannot be considered in any other light than a great drawback to this city. It seems as if about everything and everybody in Paris there is an air of taking it uncommonly easy; so easy indeed, that nuisances and inconveniencies which would not be tolerated in England for a single day, are submitted to with indifference. There are certain little matters allowed to exist, over which we in England like to draw a veil. We were much pleased with Notre Dame, which is the grandest church in Paris; indeed, it was considered at the time it was finished, the finest temple ever raised in honour of christianity. The profusion of elaborate chisel work in the west front, and the great rose window especially attracted our notice. Recalling to each other some of the historical incidents connected with this venerable pile, we lingered about it for a considerable length of time. Here was celebrated the coronation of the great Napoleon; and here also the coronation of the once purple clad exile. Eight and thirty years ago the imperial robes were for ever torn from the shoulders of Napoleon I, to be restored, in direct contradiction to the calculations of human foresight, to his nephew, and thus to lend their prestige to the marriage of Napoleon III.” We ascended the tower, and the view we obtained of Paris and the surrounding country, amply repaid us for the toil. A writer sketching facetiously from this point of view, has unintentionally described the impression we had of Paris, from the leads of Notre Dame. He says "everything is so clean outside the houses, that you might imagine the slates on the roofs to be swept every day, and the cats warned to wipe their feet, under heavy

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penalties, on specially provided roof mats; the roadway to be hearth-stoned as well as the door steps, the boats, swimming schools, and bathing places on the banks of the river beeswaxed, the mortar scraped and pointed, and the quays washed with soap and water."

We entered the cathedral on reaching terra firma again, and as service was being performed, we had an opportunity of hearing to advantage, the splendid organ, or as sturdy John Knox calls it, the "kist fu' o' whistles."

It was now five o'clock, and nature beginning to assert her rights, we turned our steps towards the Palais Royal, where we purposed dining at one of the many restaurants, or eating-houses in that locality. Among the many remarkable differences which we noticed between our own country and Paris, none struck us more than these establishments, one of which we entered. From the appearance of the interior at this hour, it would seem as if society in Paris, live entirely in public. After taking our seats, the attentive garçon or waiter presented the bill of fare, called "la carte," and recognizing us as Englishmen, he favoured us with it written in English. After the

soups, came "leg of roast beef with roast potatoes," "fillet of beef with sauce," and other equally unknown dishes. Our dinner however, this day consisted of soup, several courses of meat, fowl, &c., dessert and half bottle of wine which cost us two and a half francs, or two shillings English money. During dinner, in the gardens of the Palais Royal, and opposite the window at which we sat, a grand fountain was playing, and subsequently, a military band discoursed good music for our gratification.