echoing along the deep-vaulted passage, and dying away in soft cadence, also assisted to imagine the scene a reality. For two hours I sat contemplating the scene before me, while a number of kneeling devotees were near and around, sobbing as if their hearts were breaking. Taking my tablets, I wrote the following sonnet, descriptive of the truly melancholy scene: THE CRUCIFIXION. Hark! a voice from Calvary's height, Gross darkness spreads wide o'er the land, 15* CHAPTER XXXI V. Bridges in Paris; Ile du Palais; Palais de Justice; Police Office; Equestrian Statue of Henry IV.; Amusements and Gaiety of the French; Streets in Paris; Side Walks; Lap Dogs; Bank of France; Hints on American Banking; Mint; Hotel de Ville; Robespierre ; Chamber of Deputies; Palace of its President; Paintings, Statuary; etc. THE tourist coming direct from London, after having seen those splendid thoroughfares crossing the Thames, is not apt to care about throwing away his time in admiring the numerous bridges which span the Seine, at Paris. Yet, their great solidity, and architectural beauty, are indeed worthy of a passing notice. To stand on some one of these bridges by moonlight, and listen to the wild chant of the boatmen descending the river, was a much greater treat to me than a visit to the opera, or to the Palais Royal; and many were the nights, while in Paris, I gave my mind those musical treats so congenial to the soul fond of harmony. The Pont Neuf is generally the most crowded, and is the greatest tho roughfare in Paris, connecting the city with the Ile du Palais in the Seine, on which stands Notre Dame, the Palais de Justice, a very ancient structure, the Police Office, from which all passports are issued, and numerous other places of note. At a point of the Ile, stands the equestrian statue of Henry IV., looking toward the Tuileries, and far superior, in every way, to the equestrian statue of King Charles, at Charing Cross, London, which is so much admired by strangers. The French appear to be the happiest people in the world. The shade of care never seems to cross their brow; and for true politeness, they are not equalled in any Christian country, even among the lower classes. A Frenchman in Paris is seldom or ever at home during the day; they are always seeking amusement, which is to be met with at every turn in Paris; whichsoever way the eye is turned, there is something to attract; then the beautiful gardens, and splendid cafés, crowded with ladies of fashion and beauty, at all times, and the gay troubadours, playing and singing soul-inspiring songs and glees, are of themselves sufficient to drive away an Englishman's blues. The French are a very restless people-ever on the move. In passing their shops of a morning, you will most generally see them waltzing solus round the shop, with a tumbler of claret wine in one hand, in the other a fresh roll, and humming a tune. Hard times, and the want of money, is seldom heard. A true Frenchman will be happy, let the wind blow as it will; and it seems they never despair, or are never discouraged, but smile on misfortune: generous to a fault, they will share their last franc with a friend-and to strangers, seem as if they cannot be attentive enough to make their time pass pleasantly while sojourning amongst them, and think nothing of going out of their way two or three squares to show a stranger any place he might inquire for. Not so in England or America, without a small fee. In old Paris, the streets are without sidewalks, and the narrow pavements inclining to the centre, cause at all times a run of filthy water, which obliges the pedestrian to look out, as the carts and carriages pass along, and dive into a shop door, or passage, to prevent an unpleasant shower bath, not the most odorous, or cleanly, especially if about making a call, or an evening visit. It is a very common sight, in Paris, to see ladies, and even aged gentlemen, leading through the streets, or public gardens, a favourite lap dog, by a fancy-coloured ribbon, and ofttimes having them in their arms. In London, the sight of leading lap dogs is not common: the ladies in that metropolis take them to ride, and one or two can always be seen snuffing the air in the parks and streets, looking out of the coach window. For the ladies to have one of their children with them, they would be sneered at as inclining to plebeianism, notwithstanding the blazing of heraldry on the hammer-cloth, so conspicuously displayed to the gaping multitude. The Bank of France is situated in a narrow street near the Palais Royal. After having gone through the Bank of England, I must confess, in some respects I was somewhat disappointed, more especially having heard it so extolled. Yet, from what passed under my observation in going through the Bank of France, I am prepared to say, that no institution in the world is on such a solid foundation of gold and silver. It is admirably arranged and conducted in their paper issue. It is also founded on economical principles, which is somewhat surprising in Paris, in not having too many living useless appendages, or hanging-on pensioners, taking therefrom the profits, which should go to the sinking fund of the Bank. If the American Banks would but follow the example, and dismiss one-third of the sinecures hanging about them, their stock would not be so often below par, or they become bankrupt, de frauding the unsuspicious, hard-working mechanic, farmer, widow, and helpless orphan. The Mint, at Paris, is opposite the Tuileries, on the other side of the Seine. If the tourist be an antiquarian, he should, by all means enter and examine its immense and valuable collection of ancient coins, &c.; see the superb manner in which this establishment is conducted, and fail not in saying from what country he hails. No fee is charged, and he will never regret the time passed in the Mint at Paris. The Hotel de Ville is a very extensive and ancient pile of buildings, and the beautiful interior, as well as its exterior, must be seen to be appreciated. Should the tourist be on the Ile du Palais, by crossing the Pont d'Arcole, he will, in a few minutes, be standing on the square in which this much-celebrated Palace is situated. It was in this Palace that Robespierre resided, and issued his bloody mandates, dragging thousands of innocent victims, male and female, to suffer by the guillotine; shedding some of the best and purest blood in France, in 1794; and from this palace the tyrant himself was dragged, by an enraged populace, and suffered by the same instrument by which he had sent thousands to the other world. The Chamber of Deputies is a building in itself faultless-as chaste in its appearance as the United States Bank, in Philadelphia. From the Pont de la Concorde, the tourist will have the best view of this public edifice, so much admired by all strangers visiting Paris. The Palace of the President of the Chamber is in the rear, adjoining, and can be examined partially, with its gallery of magnificent paintings and statuary. CHAPTER XXXV. Paris; Preparations for the Celebration of the Three Days' Revolution; The King's Grand Concert in the Tuileries' Gardens; Immense Throng; Reception of the Royal Family, Ministers, &c.; King Philippe's Generosity; Magnificent Illumination of the Tuileries Gardens; Place Concorde, Champs Elysees, &c.; Grand Fireworks; Immense Temporary Theatres; Dancing Saloons; Games and Shows; The King's Sudden Departure from Paris; Disappointment. FOR two weeks previous to my arrival at Paris, over one thousand men were employed in making unusual and splendid preparations for the purpose of commemorating the approaching anniversary of the three days' revolution in 1830, viz.: July 27th, 28th, and 29th. Louis Philippe appeared determined to amuse the people by a spectacle which the Parisians never, even in the glorious and palmy days of Napoleon, could have dreamt of seeing within the walls of Paris, and from his own private purse advanced, on this occasion, sixty thousand francs, that nothing might be wanting to carry out the grand imposing spectacle intended. Artisans had been specially selected from all quarters to insure the completion of the preparations in time for the evening of the 29th. The King was to give a Grand Concert, for which purpose a very costly and sumptuous pavilion was erected as near to the Tuileries as possible, in its gardens, that the royal family, ministers of state, and foreign ambassadors, with their families, could see, hear, and also be seen by the multitude, while standing in the balconies and at the immense windows of the palace. Ten thousand additional troops had been ordered into the city, stationed at different quarters, and the guard at the Tuileries doubled.—At certain corners of streets were cavalry stationed, and appeared at night as immovable as statues. For fifty miles round, the people poured in through the city gates in immense crowds; and some even came over from England to witness the promised imposing spectacle. Many of the churches, during the three days, were entirely covered in front with black cloth, and ornamented with gold imperial |
