sequence in Naples itself. Not far distant, however, are | importance or interest. I also attended some days ago a Pompeii, Herculaneum, Vesuvius, Pestum, &c. So that I shall have enough to see and do.

PARIS, July 22d, 1833.

sitting of the French Academy, and saw, amongst other worthies, Arago and Puissant, the famous astronomers and mathematicians, and Gay-Lussac and Thenard, the chemists. The actual President, Geoffroy St. Hilaire, is rather a 'softish' sort of person, both in face and manner. The first report read was one on quarantines, which gave rise to a regular French discussion, during which the President might often have uttered the reasonable request of "pas plus de quatre à la fois.” I would rather hear a French debate for fun, than the most ludicrous farce performed in any of those ne plus ultra temples of mirth-the theâtres des Varietés du Vaudeville, or du Palais Royal.

August 10th, 1833.

There has been nothing going on here lately, of much moment, except the preparations for the fêtes of the three days, which will be superlatively brilliant. One of the chief shows is to be a ship of a large size, which will be attacked and defended. It is nearly finished, and lies on the Seine just opposite to the Tuileries. Of course, its construction is not of the most solid kind, its sides being of canvass painted instead of oak, but it makes a very respectable figure. Nothing can exceed the interest manifested in relation to it by the Parisians, numbers of whom have never seen a ship in their lives. The quais near it are constantly thronged with wonderWent the other day to the annual public Séance of ing crowds, whose various expressions of astonishment the Academie Française, the literary portion of the Inand delight afford no inconsiderable amusement to the stitute. It was crowded, particularly with ladies, and observer. Whether it be this "vaisseau magnefique," its proceedings were certainly much more amusing than which completely absorbs the minds and hearts of the those of the Academy of Inscriptions, which made me, inhabitants of this good city, I know not, but certain it ever and anon, think of Piron's phrase, l'Académie des is that the other day they allowed the statue of him Quarante avoit de l'Esprit comme quatre. It was presided who was once the object of their idolatry, and about by no less a personage than M. Jouy-a gentleman whom they are always making such a fuss, to be ele-whose physical weight and dimensions are quite worvated to the top of the column of the Place Vendome, without a single indication of gratification or enthusiasm. The number of persons assembled to witness the "hoisting" was comparatively insignificant, and not a sound was uttered to lead a stranger, ignorant of what was going on, to imagine that any interest was felt in it by the assemblage. To be sure the statue was veiled, and the worthy citizens might not have been very certain that it was not Louis Philippe himself, instead of the hero of Austerlitz, whose bronze effigies was concealed under the covering, and did not like to testify gratitude for "the gift of the Greeks," until they were aware of its character. It is to be uncovered on the second of the three days with appropriate ceremonies, when, doubtless, should the little Corsican show his brazen face, and prove that no mystification was meant, there will be a grand chorus of French ejaculations. There is something suspicious, certainly, in a Bourbon's raising a statue to Napoleon. The government seem to have had no idea that the affair would go off so quietly, as they had stationed a considerable quantity of soldiers about the column, to prevent any disturbance. Engravings of the statue have for some time past been exhibited in the windows of the print-shops and hawked about the streets, by which he is represented habited in his famous redingote, with his no less famous cocked hat upon his head. What a beautiful specimen of anti-climax-a column modelled upon that of Trajan at Rome terminating in a cocked hat! So much for French patriotism and taste.

I have been several times to the Sorbonne to hear the lectures, but have only once been fortunate enough to succeed in my object. The lecture I heard was by Amperè, the successor of Villemain, upon the influence exercised by oriental literature upon the literature of France, more particularly in the department of tales and romances, in the middle age. He is a small man, with an intelligent face, and talks in an easy, careless, but true French style. He seemed to me to treat his subject very well, but it did not strike me as one of great

thy of those of his intellectual being, considerable as the latter are. His face is not especially remarkable in any way, but his head has an imposing appearance from its size, and the quantity and respectable greyish hue of the hair by which it is covered. On his left hand sat Arnaud, one of the perpetual secretaries, and the author of the tragedy of Germanicus, whose pertliness fully entitled him to his position near the President, and seemed to demonstrate that, however great his fondness for filling his mind, he by no means ever allows literature to play him the same trick that science once did Sir Isaac Newton, if the story about the great philosopher's forgetting his dinner be true. The Academicians were in their official habiliments-blue coats embroidered with green, with standing collars. The sitting was opened by the reception of M. Tissot, the celebrated lecturer on belles-lettres, at the école royale, and author of several works of high repute, particularly the "Etades sur Virgile," who had just been elected a member to fill the vacancy occasioned by the death of M. Dacier. He read a discourse on the occasion, which commenced, of course, by begging

a propitious ear for his poor thoughts, However trivial all that he conceived,

and then was filled up by an eulogium of his predecessor. It was an exceedingly interesting paper, written with great neatness, spirit and point, and in commendable good taste, being free from that hyperbole and fustian which constitute the main ingredients of most panegyrics. When the plaudits consequent upon it had terminated, M. Jouy opened his lips, and addressed the Récipiendaire, in a strain of compliment which must have tempted him to cry jam satis more than once, unless his appetite for praise be perfectly canine. His works were all passed in review, and their merits emblazoned in such a way that one might have imagined that the new member was the literary glory of the age, whilst his personal qualities were by no means consigned to oblivion. I must do M. Jouy, however, the

justice to say, that his periods were so nicely balanced,

his phrases so piquantly turned, and that the composi

tion altogether wore so spiritual an air, as to neutralize the disagreeable effect of the fulsomeness of his matter, verifying in a certain sense the saying, that "vice loses half its evil by losing all its grossness." Two or three reports were next read by Arnault, respecting the competition for the various prizes which the academy distributes, and the names of those to whom they were awarded, announced. Messieurs de Tocqueville and de Beaumont obtained for their works on our penitentiary system, the second of the four destinés aux ouvrages les plus utiles aux mœurs, published during the course of the year, two of which are of 6,000 francs, the third of 2,500, and the fourth of 1,500. The first was obtained by Mademoiselle Necker de Saussure, for a work in two volumes, entitled "l'Education progressive, ou Etude du cours de la Vie." The piece which gained the poetical premium, was subsequently recited by its author, and seemed to be a decent jingle enough, not altogether at variance with his name, Mr. Emile de Bonnechose. The subject was "the death of Silvain Bailly, mayor of Paris," the one proposed. I could not help occasionally feeling inclined to smile at the manner in which Mr. de Bonnechose made the audience acquainted with his poetical offspring. He rehearsed it in such slow, solemn, awful tones, that one might have imagined he was relating the most fearful story in the most overwhelming language that ever was listened to by mortal ears. The finale of the Séance was a discourse read by M. Jouy upon the Montyon prizes of virtue which had been decreed, in which he mentioned the persons rewarded, and detailed their merits in a highly interesting way.

TO A CHILD ASLEEP IN CIIURCH.
Sleep, lovely babe! securely sleep,

With guardian angels hovering o'er thee,
Whilst seraph watchmen vigils keep,

Oh, dream not of the world before thee.
The anthem swells upon thine ear,

But wakes thee not with all its numbers:
No dream of joy or startling fear,

Disturbs thy spirit's tranquil slumbers.

The prayer ascends for thee and thine,
And friends and kin around thee bow,
Whilst pillowed near God's holy shrine,
Thou seemest án unpledged angel now.
And sure thy lips were formed to sing
The hallelujahs of the choir,
Who give hozannahs to their king
With golden harps and heavenly fire.

Then sleep, sweet babe, securely sleep,

With guardian angels hovering o'er thee:
Whilst seraph watchmen vigils keep,
Oh, dream not of the world before thee. FERGUS.

Trifles.

LINES.

TO A YOUNG LADY,

On seeing her set a piece of net-work in her hair.
For whom, sweet girl, dost thou prepare
That subtle net-work in thy hair?
Whose heart wilt thou entangle there?
Alas! poor youth! how oft shall he
Struggle and struggle-to be free;
And all in vain! But as for me,
So fairly warned, I shall be shy;
And whilst I have the power to fly,
I'll use it now: so, Jane, good bye.
Richmond.

Z.

I have heard the new opera of Ali-Baba, by Cherubini, but I cannot say that it is the most delightful piece of music that has ever charmed my ears. It smacks too inuch of the old school of composition for the present day, and is more remarkable for science than inspiration. There is a great deal of imposing sound, of rich noise, about it; the instrumentation is consummately managed, and whatever definite ideas there are, are worked up with perfect skill, but these are almost as rare as the rara avis itself. What the French call phrases melodiques preponderate greatly over the pure melodies, there not being more than three or four of the latter, if so many, that make any impressions. Yet it cannot be denied, that those who have On its raining upon her wedding day, which old ladies say is a heard it once must be desirous of hearing it again; the harmony is so fine, and there is so much good sense in it, if I may be allowed that term, except in the overture, which is full of concetti and straining after effect. The judgment is satisfied, if the ear is not tickled or the heart moved. I doubt if much parlor music can be gleaned from it.

ORIGEN.

Epiphanius attributes no less than 6,000 volumes to Origen. It may be added that the "Similitude" of Zoroaster is said to have occupied as much space as 1,260 hides of cattle.

IMPROMPTU..
TO MISS

sign that the bride will lose her husband. Sigh not, sweet girl, to see these showers Upon thy bridal day;

(But April ones preparing flowers

To crown the coming May:)
They bode no ill to thee nor thine,
Whate'er wise women know;
For through their falling drops doth shine,
Thou seest, a radiant beau.

APRIL FOOL.

Yes, you have made a fool of me,
This first of April, I agree;
But as for you, friend Tom, I fear
That you are one for all the year.

NOTES AND ANECDOTES,

Political and Miscellaneous--from 1798 to 1830.--Drawn from the Portfolio of an Officer of the Empire,-and translated from the French, for the Messenger.

THE PAPERS OF FOUCHE.

The emperor laid it down as a maxim, that the police should watch every one except himself; he said and repeated it to all whom he employed; and, nevertheless, nothing was ever better known to the police, than the occurrences in the Tuileries and in the cabinet of the emperor. Fouché was informed early enough of his disgrace to enable him to conceal the most important papers in his possession, and particularly his correspondence with the first consul, and subsequently with the emperor. His retirement was scarcely asked and accepted, before the Count Dubois was sent to place the seals on his house. Some days after, the seals were removed by Count Real, who was ordered to abstain from all searches, and only to ask the exminister to place in his hands the letters that Napoleon had written him at different periods.

That Fouché might understand that he came as a friend, M. Real went to Ferrières, Fouché's residence, in an open carriage, and only accompanied by his daughter, the Baroness Lacuée. On his approach, a horse that was ready saddled in the court-yard, disappeared: Fouché was no longer at his chateau. M. Real waited until eleven at night, and the ex-minister, after having passed the whole day abroad (he had taken with him a large sum of money which he had obtained from his agent), not knowing whether he ought to remain in Paris or fly to England, adopted the wise resolution of returning home. The seals were removed without formality; and, on the demand of the letters, Fouché protested that he had burnt them all, without exception; neither the emperor nor M. Real believed a word of this statement; but in such cases, when one cannot prove the contrary, it is best to appear to be

lieve.

M. OUVRARD.

M. Ouvrard has published, or caused to be published, some memoirs of his life; in these memoirs he has been careful not to tell the whole truth. This remarkable man has been concerned in so many things, that twenty volumes would not suffice to contain all that he has done, seen, and heard.

I should undertake too much were I to begin with the commencement of his history and follow him down to the year 1832, when engaged in his last financial scheme, in negotiating for pastime, the marriage, then become necessary, of the Duchess de Berri with M. de Luchesi Palli. But I find M. Ouvrard concerned in one of the incidents of the ministry of Fouché; and of this alone I wish to speak at present.

A negotiation undertaken by Ouvrard with the English cabinet, with the consent, or at the invitation of the minister of police, was the avowed cause of the disgrace of Fouché. This negotiation, on the subject

of which the emperor, in the council of ministers, interrogated the chief judge, asking him what penalty a minister ought to incur, who negotiated, of his own accord and without the consent of his master, with a foreign power-this negotiation, for which Napoleon said to Fouché: “Duke d'Otrante, your head should be brought to the scaffold"-caused the negotiator only an imprisonment of twenty-four hours.

As I have said before, the avowed motive was not the real one of this disgrace.

Ouvrard had some interest in the house of Hope of Amsterdam; this house was associated with M. Labouchère, son-in-law of Mr. Baring of London. Ouvrard went to Amsterdam, and had some interview with M. Labouchère, on the subject of the means necessary to bring about peace between France and England. M. Labouchère suggested some ideas which Ouvrard communicated to Fouché on his return to Paris, and the minister engaged him to carry on this species of negotiation. His only design was, as he always persisted in asserting, to inform himself of the sentiments of the English cabinet.

In this species of negotiation, which Fouché only regarded as a matter of police, the emperor saw, or wished to see, the crime of high treason; he, at least, found in it a pretext for Fouché's disgrace.

Ouvrard was arrested at the house of Mademoiselle Hamelin, at Paris, by the duke of Rovigo, at the moment that the council of ministers were in session at

St. Cloud; his papers were seized and he was thrown into prison. There he showed himself very little trouble about his situation, affirming that he had only acted on the indirect authority of the emperor.

It appeared, in fact, that Louis Bonaparte, king of Holland, had received through M. Labouchère, information of what had passed between Ouvrard and himself, and had notified the emperor, his brother, who had engaged him, if not to give any direct authority in his name, at least to let the affair go on, and even to risk some evasive instructions.

The morning after his arrest, Ouvrard was set at liberty, and the duke of Rovigo supplanted Fouché as minister of police. The emperor, tired of having a minister, wanted a clerk, who should be the faithful executor of his wishes.

THE DUKE OF DECRES, MINISTER OF
MARINE.

The Duke of Decres was a minister admirably suited to Napoleon's purposes; a true clerk, good to execute any orders given, but absolutely incapable of any opinion different from his master's. The emperor frequently treated him roughly, but had, at bottom, an affection for him which I am unable to explain. Whenever the emperor was at Paris, the ministers were accustomed to assemble at the Tuileries every day at seven in the morning; the Duke of Decres generally arrived a few minutes after the appointed hour. The emperor addressed him with some harshness, in these words:

"Are you unwell?"
"No, sire."

"Ah! I see; it is your common complaint, laziness.”

When the first moment of ill humor had passed, the emperor thought no more of the matter.

On the emperor's visit to the works at the port of Cherbourg, he caused the minister of marine to accompany him. The minister had ordered the construction of a piece of work, which he thought would serve to prevent the accumulation of the gravel and sand thrown up by the sea. The emperor embarked in a small boat for the purpose of visiting this improvement, then just commenced; he took with him the minister, many admirals, and the captain of the port, an old sailor with whom he conversed familiarly during the whole of the excursion. When they had arrived in sight of the work, he said to the officer:

The thieves form in Paris a distinct class; they sustain each other in danger and assist their associates in adversity; they have regular institutions of their own. When a thief is arrested the society supplies him with a woman to serve him, a defender before the court, and often witnesses to acquit him. If condemnation cannot be avoided, the protection of the society follows the prisoner even to the house of punishment; he receives assistance in money; they furnish him also with every possible means of escape. The pay in prison of a robber of a rank somewhat elevated, is at least five francs a day.

M. Henri knew all the robbers that were thus associated together in Paris. When any one was brought

"Do you believe, captain, that such a work will suf- to him, he addressed him by his name, and detailed to fice to prevent the irruption of the sand ?" "Sire, he who says so is a blockhead." The emperor turned to the minister:

"You see, duke, that I have not made him say so." The emperor had heavy cause of complaint, and of more than one sort, against the Duke of Decres; he ascertained, for example, that an important rank in the navy had been granted on the recommendation of a lady of beauty and easy virtue. The minister had cause to repent it: the emperor spoke to him of it in full council. On another occasion, the duke, having gone to Holland, had brought back fraudulently some lace, which he intended for a very pretty governess, then in his employment. The custom-house officers did not think themselves authorized to examine the carriage of the minister of marine.

The emperor was informed of it; and, in council, in the presence of all the ministers, he reproached the duke in the most violent terms, commanding him imperiously to carry the lace to the custom-house, to be there confiscated, and to pay immediately into the treasury the fine imposed by law on the smuggler.

And, notwithstanding all these things, the emperor maintained the Duke of Decres in his ministry. He was a pliant and useful instrument, and in consequence he loved him, without perhaps knowing why.

him, without consulting any memoranda, the principal acts of his life, and the number of sentences that he had undergone. When in a good humor, he would go so far as to reproach them with the awkwardness which led to their arrest.

"They should confine themselves to the handkerchief," he said one day to a robber, who had been taken in the act of stealing, "who are unable to succeed with the watch."

"To secure the watch-that does not require a very great deal of skill."

"And yet it is precisely in attempting that, that you suffered yourself to be caught.”

"It was because some one pushed my arm."
"A fine reason!"

"If I desired to secure yours, you think perhaps I
should be very much puzzled to do so?"
"Mine? I defy you."

"Yours! I will lay you a wager that I can take it, in your very office."

"I will bet you five napoleons, and will give you until four o'clock; it is now twelve."

"Done; I stake my money."

And the robber immediately drew from some concealed pocket, which the guards had not discovered in searching him, five napoleons which he laid on M.

Louis XIV, in the advice which he gave to his son, Henri's table. said to him:

Two hours had not slipped by, when M. Henri heard "The ministers of a king must be his clerks, or the himself called from a corner of his cabinet, where he was king will soon be the clerk of his ministers." always surrounded by a crowd of agents and gendarmes.

The emperor but too well followed the counsels of It was the robber who had found means to seize the Louis XIV.

M. HENRI.

watch while M. Henri was waiting on some one else.

In his place M. Henri rendered immense services. He had been invested with a sort of discretionary power. He enjoyed within very extensive limits, the right of pardoning before trial; and when he thought advisable to exercise it, he obtained in return important information.

With the exception of two or three aberrations of the Count Dubois, the prefecture of police under the empire, could not be reproached with having departed from its particular line of duty; it abstained entirely from politics, but watched scrupulously over the surety of houses, the cleanliness of the streets, and the public health. If the authors of any crime remained too long undiscovered, the emperor, who made them give an account of every thing to him, would send for the pre-ed; he opened his eyes and recognized M. Perrin. fect of police, reproach him severely for his negligence, and enjoin upon him to stimulate the zeal of his agents. The prefecture of the police had at this period among its officers a man of a very superior order; this was the chief of the bureau specially charged with watching thieves; he was known as M. Henri, or father Henri.

One night about half after one, 200,000 francs had been taken from the coffers of the company who farm the gaming houses at Paris. At five o'clock, M. Perrin was in the anti-chamber of M. Henri, asking to speak with him on urgent business. M. Henri was awaken

|

"You come at an early hour, M. Perrin; I beg pardon for having made you wait; but I went to bed at midnight. You come about your robbery of to-night, eh?" "But how did you hear of it? It was committed between one and two o'clock."

"I knew it was to take place since the day before

yesterday, and I found it necessary to let it go on. Your robber has taken the Saint Denis road; he ought|tained two years in the temple: the twelve men of his to be already arrested; they were to discover him at the moment that he was dividing the spoils with his accomplices. Your money will be returned to you this evening; but it will cost you a note of 500 francs for the agents. This will learn you to watch better for the future. A revoir, M. Perrin; I am going to finish my nap, and I advise you to do so likewise."

The suspicion of the keeper had been excited by orders which he had received a few days previously from Immediately after the capture, and in pursuance of the minister of police concerning the prisoners; and an arrangement previously made, M. de Tromelin be- his conscience reproaching him for the numerous facilicame, under the name of John, the servant of the com-ties he had given the commodore, he only saw in this modore. In consequence of this title, and of his not transfer evidence of the government's desire to adopt being a military character, he was set at liberty a few days afterwards, with permission to return to England. M. de Tromelin soon revisited France, where he became a principal agent in the conspiracy formed to secure the escape of Sidney Smith. To effect this object the Bri-announce his intention of contenting himself with the tish government had provided him with unlimited credit at a banker's in Paris-the firm of Hams in the rue du Bac. M. de Tromelin's co-operation in the escape of Smith was not unknown to the emperor, who often spoke to the general, but without the least bitterness, of his partiality for the English.