where he may almost fancy himself treading in the plan. But scarcely has he advanced a few steps in the footsteps of men, on whose actions and on whose street, before his notice is attracted by something that thoughts he has loved to dwell, and can, as it were, causes him to linger for awhile. Tearing himself, howidentify them with what he sees! It is this undefinable ever, away, he proceeds a little further in his course, charm which is thrown around several of the countries when another novelty produces another delay. Again of Europe, more than their positive, actual beauty, he continues his route, secretly vowing that nothing which renders a tour through them a matter of such shall a third time turn him aside from the object he has exquisite gratification. But the scenes of practical in view, but again is his attention diverted to what misery which are constantly presented to the eye in meets his eye. In this manner he goes on; until perFrance, are too revolting to allow the imagination to haps he finds himself completely wearied for the day, indulge in its reveries for any length of time, and before he has arrived at the place which it was his inconstitute a great drawback upon the pleasure arising tention first to inspect. This happened to me so often from a journey through its hallowed and lovely region. | in my sight-seeking expeditions, that at length I abanWhenever the Diligence stopped, especially if in a vil-doned all hopes of accomplishing a systematic scrutiny, lage or town, it was immediately surrounded by a host and permitted myself to wander about without chart or of beggars demanding charity, whose pitiably miserable compass in whatever direction I was borne by the varyappearance was enough to sicken the heart. It would ing wind of inclination or chance. "Quo me cunque be in vain, however, for any other than a Rothschild rapit tempestas, deferor hospes," was the only principle to attempt to bestow alms, however inconsiderable, of my ramblings. Indeed it would be next to impossiupon them all. If a person with a purse of but mode- ble to have any other in Paris, where at every step so rate dimensions were to do it, he would soon be obliged many causes of amusement and interest are encountered, to enroll himself among the mendicant fraternity, and that unless you possess the self-command or apathy of cry out with the rest of them-"Donnez un sous, à un a stoic, it is a matter of as much difficulty for you to pauvre malheureux, pour l'amour de Dieu et de la Sainte keep your "eyes right" as it is for a militia man on his Vierge." But it would be impossible for the most frigid first muster-day. This remark is of course only applistoic to resist some of the sights of distress which are cable to pedestrian excursions—in a cabriolet or any encountered. other kind of vehicle, temptations to irregularity being much less strong and much less easy to gratify, a methodical course may be pursued. But I must confess that (whenever the state of the weather rendered it possible,) I infinitely preferred trudging along to the employment of a conveyance; and I think it decidedly most advisable for a stranger, who is anxious to gain all the entertainment and instruction he can from his sojourn in Paris, to make use of his legs as much as possible in his peregrinations among its streets. By riding, it is true, he saves a great deal of time and avoids considerable inconvenience of various kinds, but his observations will be comparatively few and superfi cial, and his sources of amusement much less abundant.

There is one circumstance which at first gives the
country of France a somewhat singular aspect to the
eye of an American-I mean the want of fences or
hedges to separate the fields, &c. from the road,-in
consequence of which they are completely open to the
depredations of cattle. These gentry cannot certainly
be as fond of making inroads upon the property of
others in France as they are in America, or they would
not be afforded there such facilities for indulging their
inclinations as are given them by the want of enclosures.
The numerous windmills that he meets, strike him also
as adding to the novelty of the surrounding scenery, and
give him some opportunity for the exercise of his ima-
gination, by fancying that he beholds the renowned
Don shivering his chivalrous lance against one of their
arms. And there stands the honest Squire holding the
bridle of his donkey, and gazing at the feats of his
master with a look of mingled wonder and waggery!
In Rouen I spent a delightful day in looking at the
glorious old cathedrals,

Where through the long drawn aisle and fretted vault,
The pealing anthem swells the note of praise.

Beyond those venerable structures the place has few
attractions; and with Paris in prospect one is not dis-
posed to dilly-dally on the road. It was late in the
evening when we reached the great Metropolis, but I
did not get to bed before I had strolled up and down the
Boulevards in all the ecstacy of admiring astonishment,
wondering, à la Yankee Doodle, how I should ever see
the town, there were so many houses and people.

The first thing of course that a stranger does in Paris, is to make the round of its "lions," having previously purchased a guide-book, and arranged the most regular process for inspecting them all. After fixing upon the method to be pursued, appropriating certain objects to each day, in order to avoid confusion, he sets out upon his tour with a full resolve to follow his predetermined

I have said that considerable inconvenience is avoided by riding, and it must be acknowledged that it requires no small portion of patience and self-possession to thread one's way through most of the streets, or rather alleys, of Paris. It is a pity the poet Gay did not write a Trivia upon the art of walking in them, as well as in those of London, instead of leaving that theme for "Gallia's Muse." His directions for the comfort of pedestrians in the metropolis of England, are of little use to the tribe, who, in the sister capital, seek

Sweet content on foot,

Wrapt in their virtue, and a good surtout.

Here it is useless to trouble one's self about giving the wall to one person and refusing it to another, or with reflections upon the best means of escaping all annoyances, such as the dirtying of clothes, jostling, and a hundred others, which it would require an iron voice and brazen lungs to enumerate-all minor considerations are merged in the absorbing one of safety. The danger that is incurred from innumerable vehicles in narrow, crowded streets, where there are no side-walks, and where consequently the pedestrian has no appropriate place, is such, that unless the whole attention is devoted to its avoidance accidents must ensue. Wo to

garden is equal, if not superior, to the garden of the Tuileries-that the Palais Royal was the property of the notorious Philippe Egalité, Duke d'Orleans, who sold it to repair his fortunes, shattered by a long course of profligacy and extravagance, and that it is now a splendid bazaar of quadrangular shape, where all the necessaries, and almost all the luxuries of life can be obtained-that the other buildings most worthy of admiration, are the Bourse or Exchange, an exquisite specimen of chaste architecture; the Bourbon Palace, where the Chamber of Deputies hold their sittings; the Hotel Dieu or Hospital for invalid and worn out veterans, famous for its gilded dome; the churches of Notre Dame, the Madeline, St. Roc, &c.

the person who is anxious about the preservation of his | national collection of paintings, though much inferior coat from the mud and filth of all kinds which are flying in size and value to that of the Louvre, and that its about; vanity will as certainly be his ruin as it was that of the frog in the fable. In endeavoring to get out of the way of the mire that is flung from the wheels and "dashing hoofs" of one equipage, he will almost infallibly be run over by another-to use a favorite figure, from the frying pan he will jump into the fire. Our worthy forefathers, it is said, always made their last wills and testaments when they were on the eve of a journey from Philadelphia to New York or Baltimore; and it would appear necessary for persons about to commence the perilous navigation of Parisian streets, to take the same precaution, were it not a fact that few if any accidents occur. I have really been astonished, not only at the dexterity of the natives in dodging, but at that which I myself have acquired after a short noviciate. It eventually becomes so natural to you to hear the rattling of a vehicle at your back, while the heads of a pair of horses are almost in contact with your face, that such a position gives you not the slightest uneasiness.

The stranger, therefore, who resolves upon performing the tour of Paris on foot, must make up his mind to endure a good deal of inconvenience-he must not murmur at frequently finding that

Black floods of mire th' embroider'd coat disgrace,
And mud enwraps the honors of his face,

or at having the soles of his feet somewhat disturbed
by the jutting stones over which they must pass; he
will be amply compensated. This great advantage he
possesses in an immense place like Paris or London,
which he does not in our comparatively small American
cities, that he may loiter and lounge about the streets,
as he chooses without attracting observation. Strangers
are so numerous there, that the inhabitants are as much
accustomed to their habits as to those of each other;
but with us a person sauntering up and down, peering
into all the windows of shops, stopping to gaze now at
this, now at that thing, is quite an object of curiosity.

It is not my intention to trouble you with long descriptions of the edifices, &c. of Paris, of which the length, breadth, height, appearance and character, have been over and over again detailed in every work that has been published concerning that city. You are, doubtless, well aware that the Louvre is a magnificent palace, containing the most extensive, if not the most valuable collection of pictures and statuary in the world, and was formerly the residence of the Kings of Francethat their present dwelling is the palace of the Tuileries, a long, irregular edifice, facing a beautiful garden, in which the airy elegance of the parterre is blended with the melancholy loveliness of the grove; the choicest flowers springing up here in rich profusion and arranged with exquisite taste; there long avenues of lofty, spreading trees, whose branches mingling together form a dense mass of foliage alike impervious to the rays of the sun and the waters of the clouds; and in all directions statues of various dimensions and kinds, and basins of crystal transparency glittering with gold fish, on whose surface majestie swans are gliding in all the pride of conscious beauty. You need not be told that in the palace of the Luxembourg, perhaps the most striking edifice of the kind in Paris, there is another

You would not care much either, I am sure, for a repetition of the sentimentalism and moralizing of every previous visiter to the cemetery of Pére la Chaise, where indeed one would be tempted to exclaim, if it were not profanity—“Oh grave where is thy victory— Oh death where is thy sting"-so completely is the tomb divested of its horrors by the loveliness of the spot, and the general appearance of its receptacles for mortal remains-those of the once great ones of this world interred in magnificent mausoleums, those of the humble in graves where the cypress and the choicest flowers planted by the hand of affection, spread around such an air of tranquil, blessed peace, as almost to render repose in them an object of desire. The most interesting monument of course is that of Abelard and Eloisa, which affords romantic young ladies and young gentlemen such a delightful opportunity

To pour

A thousand melodies unheard before:

But by far the most magnificent, is that of the Countess
Demidorff, the wife of an immensely wealthy Russian
noble, which is a small temple constructed of beautiful
Italian marble, and is said to have cost 300,000 francs.
Those sepulchres, however, which an American is apt
to look upon with the greatest interest, are several
which cover the remains of his countrymen, prematurely
cut off at a distance from their home. There they lie
unheeded except by the traveller from the land of their
birth, to whom they afford a melancholy warning that
he also, whilst separated from all he holds dear, may
be called to extend his wandering into that region from
which there is no return.

On some fond breast the parting soul relies,
Some pious drops the closing eye requires,

but theirs was the hard lot to be deprived in their last
moments of those consolations, to breathe their last sigh
and to close their eyes, like the unfortunate companion
of Eneas, in a land of strangers, casting a dying remem-
brance upon that spot where first they saw the light.
I can assure you that I felt very gloomy whilst gazing
on their tombs.

But let me quit this grave subject and transport you to a gayer place, the Garden of Plants-the only fixed name of this terrestrial paradise, which, like the tiger that under the Bourbons was dubbed "le grand tigre royal," then, under Buonaparte, "le grand tigre imperial," then again after the restoration of the Bourbons,