His arrows scatter'd on the ground, Both form'd to pierce poor mortals' hearts. Within their golden, glittering case. And then tripp'd off-young, heedless fellow, The ancient fabulists relate This as the cause why young and old The old wax warm, the young grow cold, Produces quite the wrong effect; A SAILOR'S BRIDE I'LL BE. WHATEVER ills betide me, a sailor's bride I'll be, For I pledged a vow of truth to him when last he came ashore. A TRIP TO PARIS. ON 1st September, in company with a friend, I started from the London Bridge station for Newhaven; thence took boat immediately, and crossed over to Dieppe. The sun was shining brilliantly, the sky without a cloud, and of course, under such favourable circumstances, the coast of France was reached without adventure of any kind, and the steward earned his fee with very little trouble. We remained at Dieppe sufficiently long to enable me to seat myself, for the first time, at a genuine table d'hote, the plan of which I liked much. I thought a taste of each dish would have been sufficient to form a respectable dinner, and marvelled to see each platter well cleaned out. These French dinners would seem to settle the long disputed point as to whether man is intended to subsist upon a mixed diet; they prove most decidedly that he can at least exist upon it. We arrived at the station just in time for the train, entered a second-class carriage, and were off. We found the carriages exceedingly comfortable, lined and padded throughout, and provided with lamps. Why could not our English carriages be rendered equally commodious? We passed through several long tunnels, and at length arrived at the ancient city of Rouen, where we slept that night. Early the next morning we engaged a guide, in order to see as much as possible of that interesting place in a very short time. We fortified ourselves internally, previously to starting on our search for the picturesque, by means of a huge cup of cafe au lait, which certainly is an improvement on our mode of preparing that favourite beverage. It is useless for me to describe, or to attempt to describe, the numerous old churches and buildings which we visited. We passed on from church to church, through narrow streets where the quaint old houses seemed from very age to totter, and to endanger the lives of the passers by. guide's description of one place, which consisted principally of its length, breadth, and height, was driven from the memory by each succeeding one. Indeed we were sufficiently pleased to see and to imagine, and the words of the young Frenchman fell unheeded on our ears. The most interesting spot to me was the market-place, where, on June 14th, 1431, poor Joan of Arc was burned. There is a monument erected in the centre, which faces the building where the cruel sentence was delivered, and from which she issued to meet her doom. The But as trains, like time and tide, wait for no man, we were forced to leave this place, so full of historical associations, and start for the railway in the omnibus which calls at the principal hotels for passengers. On arriving at the station and presenting our tickets we were met by two short, cold words," Trop tard!" too late! and had the pleasure of seeing the train start before our eyes, with the pro spect of waiting four hours and a half in a very dull railway station, not liking to leave, as they would not undertake charge of our luggage. We were amused for a short time by the departure of another train, but after that was gone, we were the only persons in the station. However, by great good fortune, we had Uncle Tom" with us, which I read aloud for the benefit of my friend and myself. The train at length arrived, and we were now fairly en route for Paris, that city of soldiers and priests, of short-lived republics, of monuments and fountains, of fields without grass, of trees spoiled by being cut into awkward shapes, a city possessing a river which serves only for the purpose of cleansing foul linen, and whose inhabitants seem to live but for the present, and to make pleasure their chief business. On our arrival, as soon as we had re-fastened our trunks and bags, and got into a cab, we were surrounded by a crowd of touters, with one of whom, an Englishman, we made a bargain, of which we had no cause to repent. A short drive brought us to the hotel, one of the three "Hotels des Etrangers" in Paris, and we found it sufficiently comfortble to induce us to remain there during our stay. After some refreshment we proceeded to the Boulevards, where the character of the French people may soon be discovered. Each individual seemed intent on enjoying him or herself. Cafe, eau sucree, and now and then a small bottle of cognac-draughts, chess, and dominoes-were called into service, to minister to the gratification of the passing moment. The gaily lighted, though small shops, the trees which line both sides of the road, the smiling faces of the ladies, chatting with one another, or more frequently with some fierce-looking bearded cavalier, formed a scene such as, I should imagine, scarcely any other nation in the world could exhibit. Though the pavement is very broad, it was with some difficulty that we made our way through the stream of loungers, who filled the air with the fumes from their cigars. We entered one of the cafes, or rather we sat outside at one of the little tables, in order to taste their famed chocolat, which, when it was brought, was so thick as almost to support the spoon in the centre of the cup. I am myself no admirer of it, but my companion pronounced it beautiful. We soon wearied of this un-English scene, and returned to the hote! and to bed. In the morning, having several calls to make, we engaged a very respectable cab, like our "broughams," clean, comfortable, and easy, and having all the appearance of a private carriage. The drivers are in uniform, and very civil; indeed I found everybody so; the only annoyance with these cabs is that they go at one miserable pace, and will on no account move more rapidly; the horses appear to have become so used to a quick walk, as to have forgotten that they can go faster, and the drivers, being hired by the hour, forget to remind them. The charge is two francs per hour. The common cabs are not very clean, and are drawn by poor miserable little horses. The omnibuses are larger than ours, though they carry no more passengers, as no one is allowed to sit on the top but the driver. One uniform fare of six sous is charged, for which trifling sum, by a system of correspondence, one might, if not in a hurry, ride over half or all Paris. Of course we made an early visit to the Champs Elysées, of which we had heard so much; and Sunday evening, being the most favourable time, we first went to church, and then proceeded to this place, which may with propriety, be termed a theatre-it was the first time that I had visited places of a character so opposed on the same evening. We were attracted to one spot, brilliantly illuminated by lamps suspended from the trees; we heard a comic song, the points of which, perhaps fortunately, we could not perceive, our ears being as yet very unused to the sound of the language, and the extreme rapidity with which the words followed each other, made it impossible for us to distinguish them. The singer was standing on a small stage, where also were seated several pretty-looking female singers, who in turn warbled their sweet notes. There are several of these theatres in connection with cafes on a large scale; the singers go round for contributions and who can refuse when asked by a pretty black-eyed girl? Leaving this, we passed on to some swings and roundabouts, in which were seated full grown, respectable citizens of the enlightened republic, whose whole soul seemed, for the time, to be given up to this intellectual amusement. I wondered how some of our honest cits would have looked in the same situation. Punch and Judy also had a place allotted to them, and were surrounded by an admiring audience, principally, I must in justice confess, consisting of gamins. It was rather amusing to hear our old friend speak French. By the aid of these and many other amusements, together with an immense number of refreshment booths, these curious people were endeavouring to keep the Sabbath holy, with the full approbation of the Holy Catholic Church. Well, perhaps, many of us are no better, we treating that day with as much contempt secretly in our houses, while they amuse themselves openly, and believe they are doing no harm! Not the least difference is observable between Sunday and the rest of the week, except that some of the shops are closed earlier, for the purpose, I presume of allowing those keeping them to attend the places abovementioned. These meetings pass off without the least disturbance; all go with one object-to please, and to be pleased. I saw but two persons intoxicated. The first public edifice we visited was the Louvre, where I assisted my friend in his search for some Egyptian antiquities which he wished to find, and afterwards strolled through the magnificent galleries of painting, sculpture, &c., and certainly felt rather humbled upon putting our National gallery into comparison with them. Every nation must, however, fall short in some things; and I think our parks incomparably more beautiful than all their grassless gardens and Elysian fields. But the Louvre is undoubtedly a magnificent building, only surpassed in gorgeousness by the Chateau of Versailles. The profusion and taste with which the most costly coloured marbles are used, the floor of inlaid marble and stone, or else of polished oak, and the beautifully painted ceilings, render it a truly worthy receptacle for the works of art which it contains. Many an hour have I passed under its roof, either regarding with pleasure its splendid gems of art, or watching the hand of some talented artist, as touch by touch he skilfully produced a copy. These artists were very numerous, and by no means consisted exclusively of the rougher sex. Ladies, equally talented, were not wanting, to add, by their presence, a greater charm to the scene. I could have spent a much longer time among them, and would willingly have been one of their number (not on account of the ladies, perhaps) but because I am, and ever was, fond of the graceful art of preserving, on canvass, the beautiful in nature, animate or inani mate. But this temple of art must not absorb all my attention, for there are others as beautiful, and one still more so. I allude to the Chateau at Versailles, that monument of the extravagance and folly of a great king. This beautiful building contains a complete pictorial history of France. The wars in which it has been engaged are here delineated in a series of fine paintings. The statuary is exquisite. There is also a large collection of the works of the old masters. As we arrived late we were not able to see all, much to our disappointment. The chapel and the Galerie des Glaces, however, I may mention as particularly grand and imposing. The orangery and gardens are, I think, spoiled by the fantastic forms which the trees are made to assume (true French taste!) but they are, nevertheless, most beautiful, and offer many delightfully cool and picturesque walks; and when the fountains, with their thousand devices, are playing, the scene must be enchanting, reminding one of fairy-land. Verily, it was a fit palace for the Grand Monarque and his jovial court. We returned, thoroughly tired with looking at so much splendour, but very much gratified. The next relic of royalty we visited was the Luxembourg, which, though not to be compared with the other two for magnificence, is very well worthy of a visit. While here, an ascent may be made to the top of the observatory, which stands at the extremity of a long avenue, directly in front of the palace; it is entirely of stone, and from the top a fine view of the capital may be enjoyed. The garden contains a very good collection of animals, birds, &c., &c., and has the advantage of being free. It is necessary to obtain tickets to view the museums of geology and mineralogy in these gardens. I neglected to do so, and consequently was refused admission. The Gobelin's manufactory is but a short distance from here, and on no account should any traveller neglect to visit it. The tapestry is brought to such perfection, and the resemblance to the most beautiful oil paintings is so great, that, were the two placed side by side, it would be impossible, at a very short distance, to say, with certainty, which was the original, and which the copy. The work must be very tedious, and it must require many months' labour to finish a single piece. Í N. S. VOL. XXXIV. H |