J- > x o qH 7j > . ^ ^ A N ,00 K ^' ^ ■Ivy '-^ .^ % A. A % fr ^ ■" v. -/- ,; ! ■ C- \ C 9- , <^> *+*. V* ■S-. &• & " -6 o ev r j~ ^ ** A ' it* w $■ ■•nt s -^ CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN -WORLD, OK EXPERIENCES IN A VOYAGE TO EUROPE, PRINCIPALLY IN /rutin, 3klgittttt, unit fnglnttt, COMPRISING SKETCHES IN THE MINIATURE WORLDS, PARIS, BRUSSELS, AND LONDON; TOGETHER WITH INCIDENTS BY THE WAT, NOTED SCENERY, NATIONAL CHARACTER AND COSTUME, DELINEATIONS OF SOCIAL LITE, VIEWS OF THE PRINCIPAI PUBLIC MONUMENTS, CHURCHES, PALACES, GARDENS, GALLERIES OF PAINTINGS, MUSEUMS, LIBRARIES, LITERARY AND BENEV- OLENT INSTITUTIONS, PUBLIC LECTURES, ETC. AND WITH THREE NEW FEATURES, TO. : FRENCH LIFE ON 8HIPBOARD, REVOLUTION OF FEBEUABT IN PARIS, AND A PROFESSIONAL VEIW OF PUBLIC AND PRIVATE SCHOOLS. BT A TRAVELLER AND TEACHER. BOSTON: JOHN M. WHITTEMORE & CO., 1864. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by ALOHZO TRIPP, In the Clerk's office o" the District Court of the District of Massachusett* ANDOTER : W. F. DRAPER, Stereotyper and Printer D, 0. PUBLIC LIBEABT 82ff>T. !#• 2040 V PREFACE. Itf presenting this volume to the public, a word or two in explanation of the circumstances which gave it birth may not be deemed inappropriate. The tour which forms its sub- ject was the fortune of a respite from active duties, delight- fully spent in breathing a freer atmosphere, and seeking to enlarge the horizon of observation and thought. On leaving home, I truly had no intention of attempting a book. I felt rather to be following the onward spirit of self-culture, united to an early, undying love for travelling, than indulging the hope of ever framing out of what I might see, a picture ac- ceptable to others. But it has been thought, since my re- turn, that the somewhat original manner of performing the journey, the important nature of several subjects, not usually spoken of by European travellers, that naturally came under my observation, and the thrilling scenes of the Kevolution of February, were circumstances to justify the publication. As much as has been written upon Europe, there remain, I am persuaded, rich fields unexplored ; and who would not encourage learning more of people with whom our relations are becoming every day more intimate ? I have described things as I found them, or, at least, as they appeared to me ; and in recording my opinions, I have not stopped to consider the prejudice of party or sect. The narrative style has in general been followed, as best adapted to interest youth ; and if the book shall thereby gain attrac- tiveness to supplant the seductive novel, no healthy-minded reader will, I am sure, regret it. If I have been prolix., it i v PREFACE. was to impart a more natural and vivid interest to the pic ture of the route. The next thing to travelling for one's self, is to accompany the author in a faithful reproduction of the incidents of the journey. I have often felt, myself, in reading books of travels, that they not unfrequently leave out much of what would be of greatest interest to the reader ; minute incidents, perhaps, but containing the clew to impor- tant principles. To discriminate between the puerile and the instructively minute, is the province of a philosophical judg- ment. As to the literary character of the book, if not so good as might be wished, it is yet such as circumstances have per- mitted. Written in the intervals of arduous and engrossing duties, with my right hand always free for the labors of a sacred trust, inequalities of style would be expected. It will be further remembered, that even with the gifted, har- mony of structure, and force, and beauty of language, except with the practiced composer, are the fruit of time and pains. Slight errors in the first edition, should such appear, must be attributed to my having been at a distance during the pro- gress of the work through the press. Where my Notes have failed me, I have consulted what I deemed the best authori- ties. I desire, in conclusion, to express a lively gratitude toward numerous friends who, since the announcement of the book, have in various ways testified to me their kindly sympathy and encouragement. That it may not disappoint any reason- able expectations they may have formed, and at the same time be instrumental in advancing in the community the true, the good, and the beautiful, is the fervent desire of the author. Alonzo Tripp. Highlands Institute, Roxbury, Mass. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. **«*- About Leaving — Thoughts on Leaving Home — Glowing "Visions of the Old World — Travelling a Passion with the True Teacher. ... 9 CHAPTER II. Departing from the Beaten Track of Travel, the only way to gam Correct Ideas of Men and Things — The Beauty and Fragrance of the Primrose of Domestic Affection — A Nice Welsh Family — A Fastidious Young Lady 12 CHAPTER III. Skill of Yankee Captains — Improved Manners of Hackmen in New York City — Appearances in the Streets on Sabbath Morning — My Neat Welsh Hotel — Health-Blooming Landlord and Lady — Smoking and- Beer-Drinking in the Bar-Room — A Mental Glance of New York — Unreserved Kindness of the Boarders — A Stroll among the Shipping — Pleasing Reminiscences of Golden Days of Boyhood — Rolling Tide of Immigration — The Yankee always Travels in the First Style 17 CHAPTER IV. Thanksgiving to the New Englander away — Observance of vhe Day by the English and Welsh Boarders — The Advantages of going in a French Vessel — Odd and Inspiring Sensations on Sailing from the Wharf— The Pilot and his French 25 CHAPTER V. Emotions on Losing Sight of Land — Model of the Vessel, a National Beau-Ideal — Comparative Strength of the Vessels of France and England — Fare, and Style of Living on Board — Sociality at Meals — A Portrait of our Three Apprentices 32 CHAPTER VI. Heavy Weather — The Sailor a Stranger to Fear — The Sublimity of a Dreadful Gale — The Accurate Reckoning of the Captain — One not the Best Teacher of his own Language — The Intense Desire of getting in at the Cruel Sport of Fortune — " 'T is sweet to be Drowned in one's own Waters " — The Thrill of a Narrow Escape . . 4* CHAPTER VII. Land upon the Old World — A Moody Fit of the Captain — Sand- wich Islanders — Elevating Effects of Ocean Scenery upon the Soul — Sabbaths at Sea— Sports of the Captain — Pig-Butchery — Arrival off Havre — Entering the Port — The French Woman's 1* v i CONTENTS. Charge for Beef- Steak — French Mode of Living — The Prospect from the Heights of Angouville — Mode of Teaching Children — Improvement suggested for American Mothers 51 CHAPTER VIII. Reception by Mons. P. — American News a small space in European Journals — Notre Dame — Museum — Virgin Mary — Origin of Havre — New Dock — American Ships 69 CHAPTER IX. Honesty of the French to Travellers — Leaving the City — Scenery through Normandy — Picturesque Costume of the Farmers — Arri- val in Rouen — Kindness of Landlord and Lady — Market- Women under my Window — Grandeur of Rouen Cathedral — Richness of Interior — Rollo, the Norman — Church of St. Owen — Statue of Voltaire — Palais de Justice — Maid of Orleans — View from the Cote de St. Catherine — An Historical Mental Picture — The An- cient Port of the City — Supper — View of the City , 77 CHAPTER X. Annoying Trait of French Landlords — Comparative Excellence of Railways in France — Emotions on Arrival in Paris — Hotel du Havre — A Scene with the Landlady — Kindness of Madame David 95 CHAPTER XI. Shopping in Paris — Fascinating Manners of the Shopwomen — Beau- tiful Appearance of the Streets — Fashions Different in Paris, Lon- don, and New York — Napoleon Column — Garden of the Tuile- ries — Library of St. Genevieve 103 CHAPTER XII. Letters from Home — The Effect of Contemplating Aright Noble Pub- lic Edifices — Boarding School — Pupils out on Promenade — Arc de Triomph de l'Etoile — Minister of Public Instruction in Paris — Cimetiere du Pere la Chaise, the Paris of Cemeteries — Vice Rector at the Sarbonne — Pantheon — Description 115 CHAPTER XIII. Public Schools — Monsieur Lefebre — Order and Precision of the School — Corporal Punishment Prohibited — Mode of Teaching the Alphabet — Drawing — Singing — Advantage of the System — Its Defects — Municipal School Fra^ais — The Principal and his Professor — Plan of the School — Preparatory Department — Notre Dame de Lorette 135 CHAPTER XIV. Communal School — Character of the School — Private Day and Boarding School by the Fibres — Plan of the School — Singing — CONTENTS. V i, Municipal School Superior — Arrangement of the Building — Draw- ing — Church St. Eustache — Cathedral de Notre Dame, compared ■with the Rouen Cathedral — Bell — Splendid Interior — Coronation of Napoleon — English Episcopal Church — Muddy Streets — Prac- tice of the Ladies — Hotel des Invalids — Exterior — Interior — Military School — Woman among the Lower Orders 14 7 CHAPTER XV. Palace of the Louvre — Former Richness in Art — Characteristics of the several Schools of Painters — Sunday at the Louvre — Influence of the Art upon the Masses — Sculpture, Petrified Beauty — Marine Museum — Royal Institution for the Blind — Benefits of the Noble School — Professor-Lecturer of Chemistry — Garden of Plants — Description — Adult and Juvenile Evening Schools 168 CHAPTER XVI. Palace of the Luxembourg — Rich Paintings — Institution for Deaf- Mutes — Mode of Teaching — Teachers of French — Palace of the Fine Arts — Church of the Madeline — Its Magnificence — Nuns at the Church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois — Rural Restaurant — Mad- ame David — Reunion of Ouvriers — Bishop of Paris 202 CHAPTER XVII. To Versailles — Chateau — Vastness — Splendid Grounds — Sump- tuous Interior — Hotel de Brissac — Condition of Domestics — Normal School 221 CHAPTER XVIII. Revolution of February — Cause, Reunions — Italian Independence — Just Milieu of Mr. Guizot — More Remote Causes — Louis Phil- lippe — Stormy Session of the Chamber of Deputies — Evening School for Journeymen and Apprentices — Palais de la Bourse - Fortifications of Paris — Place de la Concorde — Parisian Cafes — Dancing — Model Office — Theatre Franqais — Orchestra — Lec- tures at the Sarbonne — Monsieur Frank 231 CHAPTER XIX. Gen. Scott under Arrest — An Ambiguous Character — Parisian Mor- als — Loveless Marriages — Left-Hand Marriages — Legalized Vice — Hospice d' Accouchement — Hospices des Enfans Trouvers — Causes, etc. — Manufactory for the Crown Tapestry — Palais Roy- ale — Sumptuous Interior — Chapel of St. Ferdinand 256 CHAPTER XX. The Grand Banquet at Paris — Opinions of the Approaching Crisis — The Gloomy Eve of the Fated Morrow — Sudden Tacking of the Ship of State — Mental Scenes in the Bosom of the Government — CONTENTS. Madame the Duchess of Orleans — Monsieur Guizot — Paris in a Posture of Defence — Thrilling Scenes of the 22d 269 CHAPTEE XXI. Revolution Continued — Suavity and Kindness of Mr. Rush — Cham- ber of Deputies — M. Guizot in the Tribune — Resignation of M. Guizot — Reading Rooms — Alarm in the Night — Cause — De- parture — Appearance of the Streets — Departure from Paris — Amiens — Appearance of Belgium. . 236 CHAPTER XXII. Arrival at Brussels — Officials — A Worcester Gentleman — Appear- ance of the City — Lady of the American Minister — Palais du Con- gress — Chambers of Parliament — Belgium — Theatres — Resigna- tion of Louis Phillippc, and Flight of the Royal Family — Cafes and Boulevards — Schools — Hotel de Ville — Palace of Fine Arts 304 CHAPTER XXIII. Symptoms of Revolution in Belgium — Communal Schools — Cathe- dral of Gudule — Religious Sects — Lamartine — Marriage in Eu- rope and the United States — Academies — Botanical Garden — Influence of Lamartine — Carnival — Hero-Worship — Shopping — Carpet and Lace Factories 316 CHAPTER XXIV. Departure for Brussels — Canal Boats — Bruges — Cathedral of Notre Dame — Dietetics — Groups of Musicians — Arrival of a Steamer — Embark for Dover — Dover Heights — Custom House — Smug- gling — Dover Castle — Leave for London 3*0 CHAPTER XXV. London — Beggars — Tower of London — Dungeon — Crown- Jewels — St. Paul's — Sir Christopher Wren — The Thames Tunnel — River Steamers — Trafalgar Square — Nelson Monument — British Museum — West-End — Buckingham Palace — Westminster Abbe} — Parks 357 CHAPTER XXVI. Hospitality of the English — Gallery of Paintings — Popularity of Queen Victoria — Disaffection — St. Paul's School — Guildhall — Royal Exchange — Bank of England — Bridges — Houses of Par- liament — St. James's Park — Prince Albert — Normal and Moral School — East India Docks — Elihu Burritt — Quakers — National Schools — House of Lords — Shopkeepers — Homeward Bound .... 383 CHAPTER XXVII. European Schools 403 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. CHAPTER I. ABOUT LEAVING — THOUGHTS ON LEAVING HOME — GLOWING VIS- IONS OF THE OLD WORLD — TRAVELLING A PASSION WITH THE TRUE TEACHER. What a crowd of delightful anticipations throng the imagina- tion of an American, as he leaves his home to visit the Old World ! It is there that the human race had its origin, and long has it been the grand theatre of its numberless exploits. Treading the classic ground of his forefathers, he can trace the windings of civilization to their source, and mark the different epochs in the world's his- tory. Character may there be seen variously modified by politica' institutions, and social life, in its endless phases, keeps the travel- ler constantly alive with renewed interest. It is, too, on the East- ern Continent, to which his thoughts are now turned, that the human mind has received its widest expansion, its fullest develop ment, and the treasures of intellect so profuse, so infinite in form, which meet him at every step, fill his mind with engrossing an i profound interest. But when he comes to the arts — to painting, sculpture, and architecture, he is translated to new worlds of mor- tal creation, to revel in a sublime existence, which before was but dimly shadowed to his imagination. 10 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. If with such feelings the traveller ordinarily looks forward to a tour in Europe, these feelings are doubly intense, when the tourist is a teacher. Accustomed, from the duties of his vocation, to deal with mind ; necessitated to learn its conditions, to trace the causes which have led to certain results in its formation, and especially to know the agencies by which it is successfully moved, he hails, with peculiar pleasure, so grand an opportunity to look abroad among the nations of the earth ; to compare their diverse con- dition ; to observe the peculiar traits of individual character ; to note the changes which the hand of time has wrought in the social fabric; to study the modes of thought, feeling and expression which give coloring to ideas ; and, in fine, to take a general sur- vey of the basis and structure of society, in connection with the causes which have led to its development. Not only is the teacher to be conversant with mind anatomically and physiologically, to understand its structure and functions, and the conditions of its healthful growth ; but he must be familiar with the subjects of the mind, the varied forms of knowledge which incite to action its powers, and constitute the woven fabric of its essence. History, science, language, and poetry are but so mucb of the teacher's stock in trade. Is it surprising, then, that he should long to gather largely and afresh from the primitive source — that he should pant to tread the very soil hallowed by the most glowing associations, about which he has so often conversed with his pupils, — that he should hasten to view the astonishing and transcendently beautiful combinations of form, in the fine arts, the simple principles of which it has been his daily task to teach, — that he should be thrilled with delight at the prospect of hang- ing with ecstasy upon the living tones, palpitating with the heart's keenest emotions, and giving spirit and grace to those languages, the bare forms of which have afforded him so much gratification TRAVELLING A PASSION WITH THE TEACHER. H in his daily study, — that his very soul should leap with pleasure as it flies on the wings of imagination to gaze on those sublime scenes in nature, which have lent inspiration to the poet, and moved him to so lofty a flight of song, — sweet numbers which, though stripped of half their glow and beauty, by the absence of the scenes which inspired them, have yet elevated his soul to a loftier existence, and opened to it new sources of purer enjoy- ment? Nor is it enough that the teacher should clearly comprehend the mind, and be perfectly familiar with the varied subjects which employ its energies. It is not sufficient that his own mind is an ample storehouse, filled with principle, fact, and apt illustration systematically arranged, ready to flow out at bidding to elucidate every subject as it comes up for investigation. He must possess himself the quintescence, the impalpable of knowledge, obtained not from books, but from large intercourse with men, and free draughts at nature's well. With this, he must permeate the character of his pupils. He must infuse his own spirit into their very being, — distil the dew of his soul into the waters of their life — if he would hope fully to arouse them to lofty purpose, and intense action. Yes, others may delight to travel; but with the true teacher, the artist, the man whose fife is in his work, travelling will be a pas- sion ; and though he may suppress a sigh, as with tearful eye and saddened heart he thinks of the endearing ties he is called to sun- der, and the changes which inexorable time may work in his dear circle or beloved flock, before he is permitted to embrace or greet them again ; yet he will soon rise above these pathetic emotions, his spirit strengthened by the glorious prospect from the fields of intellectual treasure before him, and the increased usefulness which his sacrifices, and sweet and noble toil will give him. CHAPTER II. DEPARTING FROM THE BEATEN TRACK OF TRAVEL, THE ONLY WAY TO GAIN CORRECT IDEAS OF MEN AND THINGS — A FAS- TIDIOUS YOUNG LADY — A NICE WELSH FAMILY — THE BEAUTY AND FRAGRANCE OF THE PRIMROSE OF DOMESTIC AFFECTION — THE HEART-BREATHINGS OF THE HOMEWARD-BOUND EMI- GRANT. Boston, Nov, 20th. I called this morning on board of one of the Cunard steamers, lying at East Boston. These are certainly noble ships, and all honor is due to the genius of him who con- ceived the grand design of linking the two continents by steam- navigation. Yet, he who journeys abroad with an especial view of gaining a more intimate knowledge of men and things, will not hesitate to turn off from the more beaten roads of travel, and pur- sue some of the less frequented paths. He will thus gain in de- lightful interest what he may lose in pleasurable ease; and if he is not swept over the route so delectably, he will have this loss fully compensated, by gaining more vivid impressions of nature, and receiving a more enlarged horizon of thought. Returning, I stepped on board a ship, the only vessel in port, I learned, soon to sail for England or France. I found the accom- modations narrow, but neat and comfortable enough for a person of moderate desires; but the captain, who was pacing the wharf in all the dignity of his profession, replied so curtly to my in- quiries, and with an air so unmistakable to an eye the least expe- DEPARTING FROM THE BEATEN TRACK. 13 rienced in nautical character, that I bid him good morning at once, resolved to look farther, for the means of a pleasant transit across the Atlantic. A winter passage with a morose captain, was by no means to be ventured upon. The officers of the packet-ships acquire by habit a civil and obliging behavior toward passengers, even when those qualities are not a part of their natural disposition ; but the captain of a transient ship is influenced by no peculiar motives to induce him to deviate from his ordinary line of conduct. Indeed, his position on board, in rank above all others, and his relation to the ship's company, clothed with almost arbitrary power, called to govern men accustomed to despotic rule, who would frequently take undue advantage of a mild discipline, he acquires, uncon- sciously to himself, an imperious temper and stern manner of action, which, when they happen to be united with a naturally passionate and reckless disposition, combine to render him not altogether a most agreeable social companion for a solitary sea- voyage. New York, Nov. 21s*. -Left Boston last evening, in the six o'clock train, to come by the way of Stonington. This route is preferred, I believe, to that by the way of Fall River, by the more timid class of passengers, as being safer at this season, — the distance by water being considerably less. The Fall River route, however, by the superior boats on the sound, the liberality of the Company, and gentlemanly and polite attentions of the of- ficers on the whole route, has justly won the favor of the public ; and when we were aroused from our warm slumbers, and has- tened into the cold midnight air, to exchange, first from the boat to the cars, then to the boat, then again to the cars, and finally to the boat, we began to feel that we had paid dearly for our choice of routes. An unusually large number of passengers were along witb ua j 2 14 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. and, in changing from the boat to the cars, there were the usua tumultuous and hurried scenes exhibited, with more or less con fusion ; some bustling for bits of luggage, or toting or dragging pieces along with them, to the annoyance of their neighbors ; others solicitous for their female companions, who were scamper- ing to meet them, or being half pulled along through the dark, or dimly-lighted way ; or some father hastily uniting the mem- bers of his group, and, with many words of encouragement and caution, uttered in quickening and paternal tones, sees them safely in the right car. The manner and expression of the company were as varied, too, as their character. A few, at the given sig- nal, snatch their valises or carpet-bags, and press right on through the crowd, jostling any that may happen to be in their way. Some others are more deliberate in their movements, and more mindful of the rights of their neighbors ; a large number, appa- rently unused to travelling, or unacquainted with the route, appear anxious — a little disconcerted — put questions to any one, for the resolving of their doubts, and then follow on with the moving tide, sometimes hastening, then retarding their movements ; while a small number, adepts in travelling, appear quite at home ; and by their loudly repeated commands to the waiters, and dignified movements, seem desirous to attract attention to their vast supe- riority in matters pertaining to travel. I could not but notice a delicately beautiful young lady, just be- fore me, exquisitely dressed, and leaning % on the arm of her brother. She was fainting, she said, of thirst pand would give a kingdom for a single draught of cold water. A sturdy and gene- rous hand quickly extended her some, in a tin vessel. She turned away with an air of disgust ; she could not bear to allay even her intolerable thirst from a cup that had been drunk out of by others. A half dozen voices eagerly assured her that the A KICK WELSH FAMILY. 15 cup was intact, and pressed her to partake. She would not be- lieve them, and passed on with the crowd, bearing an expression of over-squeamishness, that caused a suppressed tittering among the several witnesses of the act. Two or three foreigners near, looked at each other in surprise ; and doubtless noted the incident, as material for future use. This little trait, forms of course, no fair illustration of American female character; but it may justly be feared, that among the many excellent qualities of our lovely countrywomen, a false delicacy in matters of form, too often ap- pears, as a blemish. Travelling alone, on a long journey, the mind, freed from the engrossing details of petty affairs, observes narrowly, noticing in- cidents that might escape the attention at other times. Near me, in the cars, was an interesting group, whose peculiar accent be- trayed them of English origin. Their kindly nature, evinced in the most trivial act for each other's comfort, and the deep affec- tion, modulating the very tones of their voice, linking them in a sweet bond of family union, completely charmed me. How beau- tiful the flower of love that springs up in the bosom of an affec- tionate family ! It not only delights the eye, but fills the very air you breathe, with fragrance. Seeking the first opportunity for an acquaintance, I learned that they were Welsh, and had been residing in Canada, where the father, employed by the Eng- lish government in making surveys of the unexplored territories of the British crown, had so improved his former condition, as to enable him to revisit the scenes of his youth, and to take over with them to the New World, some of their relatives. Undoubt- edly, the bright anticipation of so soon seeing Old England, and embracing their long-separated friends, had enlivened their hearts, and lent an unusual warmth and glow to their expression. How keen the pleasure of the emigrant, as, improved in worldly pros- 16 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. pects, he turns his steps toward the dear home of his fathers ! "With some of his hard-earned wealth, he gilds the declining years of his aged parents, in ameliorating their physical condition — while he staggers their imagination with recounting the mar- vels of the New World ; and overwhelms their hearts with pater- nal joy, as he presents for a blessing the youthful scions that have sprung up to him, amidst the fertile lands of the distant West. The political economist, in estimating the advantages that have resulted to the world, by the discovery of America by Co- lumbus, may well take into the account this element of the immi- grant's improved condition. CHAPTER III. aJflL OF YANKEE CAPTAINS IMPROVED MANNERS OF HACK- MEN IN NEW YORK CITY APPEARANCES IN THE STREETS ON SABBATH MORNING — MY NEAT WELSH HOTEL HEALTH- BLOOMING LANDLORD AND LADY — SMOKING AND BEER- DRINKING IN THE BAR-ROOM — A MENTAL GLANCE OF NEW YORK — UNRESERVED KINDNESS OF THE BOARDERS — A STROLL A.MONG THE SHIPPING — PLEASING REMINISCENCES OF GOLDEN DAYS OF BOYHOOD — ROLLING TIDE OF IMMIGRATION THE FANTKEE ALWAYS TRAVELS IN THE FIRST STYLE. Approaching the city, the beautiful scenery that skirts the East Hver, was shut out from our view, by the dense mist, occa- sioned by the change of temperature in the air during the night, that hung ever the rippled bosom of the stream, through which we were noiselessly gliding with the speed of an arrow ; while the raw morning air, and the feeling of loneliness that involunta- rily creeps over one, on entering a new place, kept most of us within the cabins. Now the engiu£ ceases ; all the passengers crowd upon the deck ; there are one or two backward turns, some little manoeu- vreing, when our floating palace shoots in by the pier, directly to the spot marked out for her, with a precision and ease, that mark the dexterity of our Yankee captains, in whatever craft they un- dertake to manage. Then comes the bustling of passengers, ac- companied with the confused noise of the cabmen, who almost 18 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOPLb. deafen you with their repeated importunities for \our luggage. This is not a little embarrassing to those who travel for the first time, and annoying enough to every one. In justice, it must be observed, in passing, that this feature of travelling life has mate- rially improved in the State of New York, within a few years. The time was, when it had become absolutely intolerable ; when passengers approached New York or Albany with feelings akin to those of seamen, when passing through the famous Straits of Caraccas, at the time the buccaneer held sway in those seas. Accepting the invitation of my new acquaintance, to take rooms at the hotel kept by a friend of his, in Walker street, I leisurely strolled along thither, with my valise in hand. On leaving the pier, what was my surprise ! It being Sabbath morning, the for- eign population were out ; and the German and the French lan- guages greeted my ear with as much frequency as my own ; and then so densely thronged were all the streets, that I should really have supposed myself in London, rather than in New York, as I formerly knew it. And here let me say, for the benefit of those who intend travelling abroad, and who would go in a simple style, and be free from the trouble and expense of looking after, and removing much luggage, that it is better in all respects to leave your trunks and extra suits at home. A few changes of linen, and an extra coat, with the articles of toilet, all of which can be put into a valise, will answer all the purposes of comfort- able travelling. In any of the cities, and especially in those of Europe, articles of clothing can always be purchased, when needed, with the advantage of being in the latest style ; while the anxiety and trouble avoided, and the expense saved, which would be something of an item in a long journey, are really of consid- erable importance. WELSH LANDLORD AND LADY. 19 Arrived at the hotel, I found the landlord and his lady, a charming young couple, with countenances blooming with health and vivacity. They were extremely neat in their persons and dress, and the most sociable and obliging people in the world. I was immediately shown my room, which was both commodious and airy, and contained an ample bed, as clean and voluptuous as I should have expected to find in the house of a friend. The warm breakfast was awaiting us ; and we found the fare, though simple, both excellent and abundant; while the clean, sanded floor of the dining-room, the snowy-white napkins beside our plates, and the gleaming knives and forks, all served not a little to heighten the relish of the meal. Indeed, the whole house was a pattern of neatness, in wide contrast with the shabby elegance of some of our so-called genteel boarding houses. There was, withal, pervading everything, an antique quaintness and simplicity, which brought to one's mind some of the better sort of English inns, described by English writers, inducing a feeling of home, so congenial to the heart of a stranger. The only material draw- back to the pleasantness of the house to a traveller, was the smoking of pipes, drinking of beer, and fierce and boisterous conversation, that was ever going on in the bar-room. It really seemed that the genius of the immaculate weed and the glorious old ale, had usurped absolute possession of that part of the edi- fice, and was having things entirely his own way. But, aside from this feature, the house was greatly to be commended for its many excellent qualities. Thus noting the salient features of your hotel, may seem trivial to the reader ; but let me assure him, that should he ever travel, he will find his personal comfort and disposition of mind so greatly to depend upon the qualities of his hotel, as hardly to forbear making mention of that part of the path of his travel, ever afterward. 20 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. To bketch the details of a week's sight-seeing in New York citv, would form a long, and what might justly be considered an inappropriate chapter in a book professedly of foreign travel ; al- though not even an American, in a visit to the emporium of the New World, would fail of ample material for the employment of his pen. The almost fabulous growth of the city in wealth and population; the gigantic spread of its commerce, with ships whitening every sea ; the ever-rolling tide of foreign immigration, crowding the shores of its majestic harbor ; and, at the same time, the equally increasing domain of those sublime institutions, the School, the Church, and Asylum, generously encircling the em- pire of mind, — and, on the one hand, rapidly assimilating the foreign population, as it reaches its shores, to the elements of re- publican character; and, on the other, antagonizing the sordid power of wealth, combined, form a series of agencies, so grand in outline, so rapid in march, so unceasing in action, and, moreover, so powerful in results, as to astonish and elevate the mind of the beholder. In their contemplation, surrounded as he is by the evidences of their greatness, he feels as if living in an age of powerfully quickened energies, and of high moral grandeur ; and the pulses of his life beat fuller and quicker. The ineffectual struggle of the fine arts for a seat upon the throne of mind ; the vicissitudes and fate of authors and other literary men in their rugged and toilsome ascent up the hill of fame ; the unbounded success of the gigantic printing press ; the cosmopolitan phase of the city, in which are represented the costume, physiognomy, and specific character of almost every nation upon the globe ; the phantasies of public amusements ; the caprice of fashion ; the sombre aspect of vice and crime ; the abject state of destitution ; and the sore annoyance of petty larceny and deception, together form so many features in the physiognomy of this life-beating me- A STROLL AMONG THE SHIPPING. 21 tropolis, for the study ot the traveller ; and unsusceptible indeed must be that mind which is unmoved in their contemplation. But I must not dwell on these and many other features in the physi ogmy of this magic-growing city, — topics rich in reflections. 1 will, therefore, skip a few pages (as the schoolboys say), taking permission, however, to glance at a topic or two in connection with the incidents of the way, just to keep up the thread of the narra- tive. Most of the boarders at our house were of the better sort of English, Scotch, or Welsh people, on their way to the mother- country, or home, as they call it, to visit their friends. They were, as might be expected, in the best of spirits, — cheerful and lively, with hearts overflowing with emotion, in confident antici- pation of the happiness that awaited them. Happy souls ! might no cruel turn of the treacherous wave over which they were soon to be wafted, disappoint their hearts' fondest wishes ! The conversation naturally turned upon a passage. They had nearly all secured theirs, in different ships ; and they all solicited that I would make mine, each in his particular vessel ; and the in- vitation was extended with that unreserved cordiality which left no room to doubt of its sincerity. It would have afforded me sincere pleasure to accept, especially had they all been going in one ship, — for who does not love to be with open and warm- hearted people, particularly when they are, as in this case, sensible and intelligent ? but I feared that my plans would not permit. A stroll among the shipping in port, with me a favorite way of spending a leisure hour when in the city, awakened the usual re- miniscences of that period of my early life, when, with golden scenes overhead, and flowers beneath my feet, I danced gaily over the bounding billow, not only of fleeting life, but also of the ocean. There is much in a sailor's life, to captivate the 12 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. imagination of a bold and spirited youth. Its changes ; its thril- ling scenes ; the varied scenery of countries ; the peculiar cos- tumes and manners of different nations ; with that abandon mode of life, so charming to the undisciplined character, — all render it in consonance with the fire and buoyancy of free and careless life. There is something in the calling, too, that enlarges the mind, and elevates the character, making ample amends for the rough and angular points it leaves upon its apprentices. Our glo- rious sea-captains, for their noble bearing, enlarged views, and gen- erous impulses, may well thank old Neptune for his efficient in- fluence. The large number of packet and other ships in port, and soon to set sail for England or France, appeared thronged with passen- gers. Indeed, the tide of travel setting toward Europe from the United States, if not so great as that rolling from Europe towards the United States, is still not inconsiderable ; and fully merits to be taken into the account, in estimating accurately the aggregate of immigration to this country. A very large proportion of the passengers that go out in these ships, are those that, having for- ■ merly immigrated to this country, are now on a visit to their friends in Europe ; and after a transient stay there, return, bringing per- haps with them others of their friends and acquaintances, to ad- vance the Western stride of empire. It is evident, therefore, that if all who land upon our shores be set down as so much immi- gration, there will be some included who have already been reck- oned. The rates for passage in the first class of the packet-ships, were about as follows : — in the first cabin, one hundred dollars, including board and wine ; in the second cabin, twenty dollars, and found in bread, tea, and coffee ; for deck passage, twelve dol- lars, with bread, and access to the caboose to prepare the meals. fn many of the ships, the second cabin was as commodious as need HABITS OF THE YANKEE AND THE EUROPEAN. 23 De, — being provided with state-rooms and comfortable berths. Indeed, the second cabin in these ships was formerly the first cabin, and used as such, until the falling off of the first-class pas- sengers, who now mostly go by steamers, and the increase of travel with the second-rate passengers, made it for the interest of the company to divide the cabin, and provide for a large and respectable part of the travelling community, who are better satisfied with moderate charges, — provided they can have, at the same time, comfortable quarters. Among the passengers in the second cabin, and even on the deck, you will frequently meet with persons of considerable wealth, and of high intelligence. But you will rarely see an American there. The habits of the Yankee and the European, are widely different in this respect. The latter is accustomed to accommodate himself to his pecuniary circumstan- ces, or to his position in life ; while the former never thinks of this. He rarely travels but in the first style, — ordering the best of everything, at least so long as he has money to foot the bills. Brother Jonathan may be close and hard-fisted on his own soil, in trade with his fellows ; but when he travels, there is not a more liberal soul. He parts with his money as freely, and with the grace of a titled millionaire, used to the thing from youth. This trait of our countrymen is so well understood upon the continent of Europe, that an American traveller is expected to pay more for everything he orders, than any other person ; and the charges on the route are not unfrequently graduated in conformity with this expectation. When an American ship is telegraphed to one of the cities of the north of Europe, it usually throws the entire city into a state of rejoicing, not seen on the approach of the ships of any other nation. Not unfrequently, salutes are fired, and the church bells rung, in expression of welcome. This may be owing ii part to the favor with which the Americans and the United 24 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. States are regarded by these people ; but it will not be doubted that the principal thing which moves these impulses, is the golden anticipation of the money that is to be cast among them by the generosity of the crew and officers. CHAPTER IV. 1HANKSGIVING TO THE NEW ENGLANDER AWAY — OBSERVANCE OF THE DAY BY THE ENGLISH AND WELSH BOARDERS — THE ADVANTAGES OF GOING IN A FRENCH VESSEL — ODD AND INSPIRING SENSATIONS ON SAILING FROM THE WHARF — THE PILOT, AND HIS FRENCH. Nov. 25th. Thanksgiving! What pleasing reminiscences it awakens .' Sweetly embalmed in memory are gladsome scenes of the past. Linked with the present, they glide before the mind, drawn thither by the silver chord of association ; while fancy, aided by the mellowing hand of time, smilingly interweaves her golden threads. You are at once transported to the venerable domicile of an aged grandfather. Once a year, at least, his heart bursts the bands in which the sordid aims of life, the rest of the year, so narrowly confine it ; and the austere and wrinkled coun- tenance, darkly shaded, by carping at the folly and extravagance of the age, now expands with a generous and benignant smile. The doors in the parental mansion have been thrown wide open at an early hour, and the halls now ring with the merry voices of youth, mingled with the deep tones of middle life, and the pleasing garrulity of old age. Soon comes the long-anticipated event. A table of ample dimensions, with the time-honored turkey, and other ridb viands, prepared by the good old grandmother, assisted by some of the more skilful aunts, greets the eye with its rich Durdcn. Around the festal board gather uncles, aunts, cousins, CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. the beloved grand-parents, and, peradventure, an invited gruecl "» two, — when genial mirth and conviviality heighten the pleasure of the annual feast. The evening glides off, enlivened by story or song ; while the younger members of the family group, one by one, silently withdraw to enjoy the youthful pleasures of the social party, or dance where soft eyes look love to eyes, which speak again in the unmistaken language of the heart. But if Thanksgiv ing-day awakens pleasing recollections, these are not unfrequently accompanied with those of a sadder hue. When memory turns the shroud of departed joys — of endearing ties ruptured by the ruthless hand of death, it strikes the key-note of the dirge of our remembrances. Over the spirit of the New Englander, distant from his home, a lonely feeling creeps, on the recurrence of this day. We dined plainly to-day ; and I began to think that we should have nothing to recognize the observance of the hallowed event. In this, I was agreeably mistaken. In the afternoon, we were favored with a visit from , the celebrated harpist. He had the kindness to entertain us with some of his sweetest pieces ; and it is needless to say, that we were highly delighted with the per- formance. The harp is rarely played in the United States ; but, from the classical associations connected with the instrument, and its sweet tones, it never fails to please, when its strings are grace- fully and skilfully touched. In the evening, after tea, the gentle- men boarders of the house, with some of their acquaintances, as- sembled in the dining-room; and, after drinking two or three glasses apiece of beer, chose one of their number chairman, and held a convivial meeting, in honor of the day. The motion that each should tell a story, sing a song, or make a speech, passed by acclamation, — whereupon, the company set themselves to work in lively earnest, and they gave what the French would stvle a me- ADVANTAGES OF SAILING IN A FRENCH VESSEL. 27 lange of noble sentiments and graceful turns of expression, min- gled with puerile thoughts and coarse allusions. I could not but admire, however, the deep and melodious tones of several who sang, although not so much could be said in favor of the general character of their performance. Many of the old English bal- lads, naturally sung, are very effective, and somehow stir up emo- tions within, quite irresistibly. It was all strongly English, — the full tone, broad accent, sluggish manner, and thorough frankness, except being softened with more generous sentiments than is usual with the English in their sentiment toward America, their adopted home. "America as she is, and England as she was," met a hearty, right English-fashioned reception. The evening closed with a brief speech from the president, who, in a touching and really eloquent manner, contrasted the unhappy condition of some of our fellow-men in foreign lands, with the favored lot of the masses in this country ; and concluded, by expressing the fervent wish that the suffering everywhere might be speedily relieved. On the whole, this was not so bad a substitute for a Thanks- giving! Nov. 29^. I was so fortunate as to secure an arrangement for a passage across the Atlantic, in the Union, a small French brig, Capt. Pave. As the vessel was by no means heavily built, and was deeply laden, a person in the least timid, might have hesitated to venture his personal fortune in so inferior-sized craft, across the vast Atlantic, at so boisterous a season ; but one at all versed in nautical affairs, well knows that it is not the largest ship that is the safest, or most comfortable, even in a severe gale at sea. Be- sides, the beautiful model of the Union revealed her an excellent sea-boat. The captain appeared intelligent and well-disposed, and desired try company for the aid I might be to him in improving his knowl- 28 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. edge of the English language. The accommodations in the cabin were very superior, for a vessel of the size ; and being the onty passenger, I should be the object of exclusive attention with the officers and crew, and be freed of the annoyance arising too often from the qualms and peevishness of landsmen at sea. I antici pated much advantage, moreover, from the fine opportunity it of- fered, of gaining a more intimate and familiar acquaintance with the idiomatic French, — an excellent preparation for an advanta- geous tour through the country. So near proximity would reveal intelligibly to my mind more of French character, taste, and pecu- liar ideas, than I could otherwise gain, — as well as enable me to learn something of French history, not written in books ; and to find out where to go, to travel to the best advantage ; and what objects to examine as the most interesting and instructive. The boarders at our house congratulated me on my good fortune, and approved my judgment in the choice I had made. I retired to my state-room, on board, at a late hour, with a racking pain in my head, arising from undue exhaustion, — having been in the streets most of the day and evening, in the bustle that attends the eve of a journey. Tossing on my pillow during the night, I had but just closed my eyes, when the noise of ropes and strange voices over my head, aroused me ; and when I reached the deck, the captain had just ordered to cast off, — when the ship, with topsails hang- ing like the roundabout of a boy just decked in his holiday gear, was yielding to the gentle breeze, and noiselessly gliding toward the stream. The city, like a huge animal just aroused from its nightly slumbers, was beginning to beat with pulse an<^ energy. The rays of the rising sun were gilding the summits oi its lofty spires ; and as I stood upon the quarter-deck, and gazed upon the receding city, the separating link in the golden chain of home and 'tis endearing associations, and yielded to the gentle inspiration THE PILOT, AND HIS FRENCH. 29 imparted by the motion of the vessel, I felt seized with emotions that must enkindle more or less the bosom of every traveller, as he leaves his native shore for a distant journey. I was diverted from this momentary reverie by the novel-sound- ing and energetic commands of the pilot, which were instantly passed by the officers from him to the crew, and obeyed by them with the utmost alacrity. Being nautical phrases, they struck my ear as oddly as if modulated in a language quite new to me. A light wind wafted us along during the day, but so sluggish was our movement, that on the change of tide setting in, we came to anchor in the mouth of New York bay. The sky became deeply overcast, and there was strong indication of a gale ; but this did not disturb the equanimity of the captain or pilot, who were yield- ing to the agreeableness of the enchanting domino, and fragrant Havana, in the comfortably warmed and lighted cabin, while mas- ter Joseph, one of the ship's apprentices, most delightfully regaled us with the silvery tones which he drew from his violin, with the skill and grace of a Paganini. But in the latter part of the night, the wind increasing, the hands were mustered to find a shelter for the vessel near Staten Island. Here we remained snugly shel- tered from the wind, which blew furiously from the north-east, the following day and evening. This part of the island was dotted, here and there, with tasteful eountry residences ; and the pilot, who was extremely obliging and communicative, related to me incidents in the life of the gentle- man who possessed the cottage that adorned so smilingly the bluff of land near us, which aptly illustrated the capricious nature of fortune, especially in rapid-growing New York. A wealthy gentleman in the city, at his death, left his property to be equally divided among his children, excepting the youngest son, who, being a little too racy in his habits, had allotted, for his 30 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. share, some acres on the uninhabited islands in the vicinity of the city, at that time nearly valueless. In process of time, — thanks to the improved taste of our merchant-princes for country palaces as summer resorts, — his lands became so enhanced in nominal value, that he was now able to give a dinner to his poorer brothers, The pilot spoke French with remarkable fluency, and so as to be readily understood, not only in conversation, but by the crew in his orders ; but then, he made a perfect homicide of the French grammar, mixing up the particles and accidents of the verbs in pretty Babel-like confusion, — and then his pronunciation, and the cadences of his sentences ! As they struck the ear, you were rather reminded of the meeting of the cross-currents of a shallow, than the wavy undulations of the true French melody. This was not surprising, however ; the greater wonder being, that in so short a time as he had attended to the study and practice of the language, and the meagre opportunity he had had for its acquisi- tion, that he should have been able to speak half as well. It went to prove, that quickened by the force which interest imparts to our energies, we may often make astonishing acquisitions. It may Buggest, too, a valuable principle in the education of youth. A scholar, with no stimulus to excite his powers, will often lifelessly drift in the dead-sea of study for months, and even years, to the no small vexation of his teacher, and real mortification of his parents ; but by some means awaken or reanimate his sleeping faculties, and he darts off, like a thing of life before the freshening gale, to the astonishment and delight of the beholder. The pilot informed me that there were no less than one hundred and eighty pilots in the city, and that they were organized in independent companies, each being left free to compete with the rest in se- curing the greatest amount of pilotage. If a vessel is spoken in the offing, or entering the harbor, the captain is obligee 1 to pay, at PILOTS IN NEW YORK. 5] least, half-pilotage. The old pilots complained, and with some jus- tice, of the act of Congress, which some three years ago removed all restrictions to free competition. They were about petitioning the law-makers for a reenactment of the same, securing the privileges of the craft to such as by due knowledge and experience have claims to them. This largest liberty, though certainly unjust, and quite annoying to the duly qualified, is not wholly unproductive of good results. To it may be, in great measure, attributed the vast superiority of our Yankee pilot-boats, in point of beauty of model, and quality of speed, over those of any other nation. CHAPTEE V EMOTIONS ON LOSING SIGHT OF LAND — MODEL OF THE VESSFL A NATIONAL BEAU-IDEAL — COMPARATIVE STRENGTH OF THE VESSELS OF FRANCE AND ENGLAND — FARE, AND STYLE OF LIVING ON BOARD — SOCIALITY AT MEALS — A PORTRAIT OF OUR THREE APPRENTICES. Dec. Uh. On coming on deck in the morning, I met with a clear horizon, and a piercing wintry-air. With anchors weighed, and bellying canvas set to a brisk gale from the north, the brig was gallantly ploughing her way out of the harbor, in company "with numbers of other craft with prows set in different directions. The scene was enlivening. At eight o'clock, with a moistened eye, we shook hands with the pilot, and bid him good-by, intrusting to his care our last missives of love and friendly affection to dear friends that we were fast leaving behind. At nine o'clock, the captain and mate regulated the ship's chronometer, and noted the bearings and estimated distance of Sandy Hook, — when the ship's bow was fairly turned toward beautiful France. At eleven o'clock, p. m., the hills of Neversink were just merging below the horizon. "We were now indeed launched upon the glorious Atlantic, with a broad expanse of three thousand miles before us. As my eye lost the lingering vestige of my native country, and " reflections thick" rushed upon me, I could scarcely repress a sigh. As I turned away, the captain, in a sympathetic tone, observed : Vous etes *riste, Monsieur, vous regrettez voire pays. To turn the subject FIRST FEW DAYS FROM PORT. 33 without a reply, I cast a glance at our short canvas, — top-gallant- sails being furled, — and then pointed, inquiringly, at a large ship near, that was ploughing by us under top-gallant studding-sails — a perfect cloud of canvas. He caught my meaning w r ith the quickness of a Frenchman's apprehension, and giving a true French shrug, exclaimed, Ah, Monsieur, on presse ; then, turn- ing on his heel, he gave me a hint in respect to such matters, that served as a guide for the rest of the voyage. We continued rather slowly our watery path, amidst variable and not particularly propitious winds, steering first broadly off to the south-east, under that sentiment of dread which all foreigners have of our American coast, and then gradually hauling up nearer our course, so as to pass near the south point of the great Bank of Newfoundland. We soon lost the sharp, nipping air of the land, which, under the double influence of the agreeable power of the ocean upon the superincumbent atmosphere, and the radiating force of the Gulf-stream, that ocean-caldron upon our coast, soft- ened down to so genial a temperature as to remind us continually of the balmy month of June, rather than frosty old December, wrapped in furs and icicles pendant from his hoary beard. We were quite comfortable without fire in the cabin. The first few days from port are not the most sociable in an ocean passage. The crew are necessarily busily employed in stripping the ship of her land-hamper, and snugly reducing her to a sea-dress. This, with noting the ship's departure, keeping her reckoning, and writing up the log-book, neglected by the ex tra labors in port, require the constant attention of the officers, while the captain is absorbed in his accounts, or distracted by the ever-rising images of his wife and children, or the voluptuous form of his mistress, making a captive of his mind, and bearing * to the endeared family-circle, or to the hall sounding with mirtb 34 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD and revelry. Even the steward is a little out of humor, bustling in the cabin in setting to rights things disarranged in the hurry of leaving, and broadly hinting to you some of the rules by which he expects you will be governed, if you desire to be on good terms with him. While the passengers, strangers on board and strangers to each other, and swelling with past memories and future hopes, will feel no disposition to be communicative. One who has been a sailor will be interested in nothing re- lating to maritime scenery more than in observing and compar- ing the model and build of the vessels of different nations, as well as those of the same. He will easily trace a striking re- semblance between the physical conformation of a nation, and the architecture of its ships. The ideas of beauty which seem derived from the human form, and which constitute the basis of style, are so faithfully transferred to ship-building, that one could easily tell the physical conformation of the people of a nation, even before seeing them, if favored w r ith an inspection of its ships. Who would not, for instance, come at a pretty good idea of the style of beauty among the Chinese, after seeing one of their elaborately- constructed junks? The thick and rounded form of a Dutch craft is an unvarying model of the captain's bulky frow at home. The Englishman is heavily built, and slow in his move- ments; the Frenchman, lighter in mould and more graceful in action. About the same difference may be seen in the form and construction of the vessels of the two nations. The Americans, who are a medium between the English and the French, not so heavy as the former, nor so light as the latter, have maintained the same characteristic in their ship-building. They have com- bined the peculiar excellences of the two nations most happily, while under the force of an original genius, and an energy im- parted by free institutions, they have improved upon all models* AMERICAN AND FOREIGN SAILORS. 35 and may now be considered foremost in the march of ship-archi- tecture. Our ship, although of fine model and graceful finish, was yet of slight build. The timbers were smaller than they would have been in an English or even American vessel of the same size. The captain assured me that she was as strong, having the infe- riority in 'this particular more than made up by superiority of material, and better fastenings. This might be true, yet the imagination has something to do with the comfortable feeling of security on ship-board, and the reflection of the passenger that a single plank separates him from the watery caverns below, is greatly consoled when the eye everywhere meets great solidity and apparent strength. And, unfortunately for the arguments of the captain in the case of our vessel, the frequent dismal sound of the pumps, when she rolled heavily, increasing as the sea in- creased, with the unharmonious cracking and creaking of the partitions and wainscoting in the cabin, spoke a language nol quite so unmistakable, saying to the feelings, at least, that greater solidity would have better resisted the enormous straining tc which she was exposed, heavily laden as she was, and surged to and fro by the powerful waves of the heavy ground-swell. I was forcibly struck with the indifferent manner of working ship, by our sailors. There was not the promptness and celerity of movement, seen on board of an American ship ; yet the crew yielded all due respect to the captain's commands. It may with some reason seem strange, that a people naturally so ingenious in design, and dexterous in execution, as are the French, should not excel in a profession calling for quickness of apprehension and fa- cility of adaptation ; yet, I think that the inferiority of the French, as sailors, even to the English, Dutch, and Swedes, is generally admitted. They seem to lack the boldness, the physical hardiness, 36 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOULD. and even nautical skill of those people. It is true that we hotv have few ships manned fully by American seamen. In our ma- rine, all who are not soon promoted to officers, are so intemperate and quarrelsome, as to render them undesirable for crews ; and it is now becoming a pretty general practice, to supply our ships with sailors from the northern nations of Europe, — particularly from Denmark and Sweden. These sailors, naturally rather slow and methodical, when transferred to our ships, have their energies so quickened by the spirit of American enterprise, as to answer even a superior purpose. For, manned with them, our ships in- variably make shorter passages with smaller crews, than the French ships of equal tonnage. The fare of the sailor is an item of some note in the bill of the aqueous part of his amphibi- ous life. Cut off from the variety of shore-life, and doomed to a dull routine of duty, eating and drinking constitute about all of his physical comforts and mental recreations. In this respect, as well as many others, the condition of the sailor has become much im- proved of late years, not only in our own marine, but in that of all other nations. Yet we are still greatly in advance. We give sailors better quarters, better grub, and better pay, than others \ and, it may be added, we require them to work a little more vigo- rously. I observed that the living, with the crew, was much after the American fashion, — three meals a day, and coffee and tea, — except that the bread was of an inferior quality ; and that dinner was invariably preceded by soup, — the Frenchman's staff of life. In the cabin, on the contrary, the style was an obsequious imitation of the French, ■ — two meals a day, ■ — breakfast at ten o'clock, a. m., occupying at least one hour ; and dinner at five o'clock, p. m., at which we sat not less than one hour and a half, whether the weather was stormy or fine, whether it blew high or low, whether you could sit upright, and swallow your food with some degree of FRENCH-PREIARED DIET. S 7 decency, or whether the reeling and lurching of the ship obliged you to hold on with one hand, to retain your position, and to make the other serve the three-fold purpose of steadying your knife and plate, and, in the interval of a lull, steering the scanty and indif- ferently-prepared food in the channel to the welcome vortex of so many edible things. Claret-wine was freely served as beverage, — taking the place of tea and coffee. This I was never particu- larly partial to, even in my more wine-drinking days ; but, by fre- quent tasting, and the contagious example of the captain and others, I found such influences to have their usual effect ; and, in i little time, I began to quaff with something of the smack of a relish of the thing. We had coffee served at breakfast, after the ;X)urses, but very sparingly. I thought it of sufficiently high quality, in all conscience, being so highly concentrated as nearly to overpower my sapient nerves ; but the captain, of different gustatory education, would frequently scold the steward for the in- sipidity of the dish, — when, to supply the deficit, he would add a little strong brandy, or perhaps a slice of butter, or even both at the same time. Tea we never indulged in, except some one who was ill, or had been trying to quicken the sluggish physical man by a dose of medicine. Even then, it was prepared so economi- cally, and sipped so mincingly, that you would have supposed it the rarest and most expensive of exotics. I must confess that at first it required a little effort to come to Like some of the French-prepared articles of diet, such, for in- stance, as our classic dish of codfish and potatoes, prepared in olive oil, and other like departures from American modes of regimen ; but taste in matters of food, as well as in the fine arts, is so much a matter of education and habit, that the opinions and ways of ibose of the society in which we are accidentally cast, soon greatly modify our own ; and in a short time, I found little difficulty in g§ CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. conforming, in a degree that astonished myself, to almost whatp.vej was served. Our time at meals was always spent, French-like, very agreeably. The captain was always then in the best of spir- its, particularly communicative, striving to draw out conversation from others, and interest all. Our meals thus served to enliven the mind, as well as refresh the body. They were really green spots in our otherwise rather dreary passage, and served to make us better satisfied with ourselves, and more pleased with each other. This feature of French life deserves more than a brief mention. It merits being imitated by Americans on ship-board, who rapidly devour their meals in moody silence, then quickly rush on deck, as if eating was a sad and desperate duty, the quicker done, the sooner over. The only exception to this, was the captain's stereotyped fault finding with the steward. This was carried to a point absolutely intolerable to every one, I will venture to say, but himself. The dishes at meals followed each other in course ; and as each was brought into the cabin by the steward, it was subjected to a care- ful inspection by the captain, who was sure to find something wrong, — whereupon would follow a volley of French derogatory expressions; while the culprit, a fine fellow, by the way, quite ac- customed to the ordeal, would submit with the utmost calmness, replying respectfully, but occasionally dropping an expression sc adroitly, and with so much sangfroid, to the captain's absurdities. as to make it difficult for us oftentimes to suppress our risibilities, We had on board three boys, the ship's apprentices. Foreign vessels usually carry more or less of these cabin appendages, ac cording to the tonnage of the ships. They are bound to the cap tain or ship for a series of years, to be inducted into the mystery of seamanship and navigation. They live in the cabin, and are exempted from some of the drudging of the common sailor, but SHIP'S APPRENTICES. «jq are shore directly under the control of the captain. One can hardly expect to rke to the station of officer, who has not served a regular apprenticeship. Many, however, before their period of service expires, run away to America, where a more propitious field awaits them. The character and tastes of our apprentices were extremely diverse ; and their cases illustrate most strikingly the folly of not duly considering the natural aptitudes of boys, before making choice of their pursuits in life. The youngest, whom I will call Francois, was a puny stripling ; and from constitutional temper- ament, and gentleness of disposition, as unfitted for the rough ca- reer'of a sailor, as it would seem possible for one to be. He was, moreover, at times, dreadfully sea-sick, though he had been on board six months. He would then lie around under foot, utterly indifferent whether his head was up or down, or what fate befel him. In these fits of physical and mental prostration, if you had deliberately thrown him into the sea, I verily believe he would have manifested no opposition to the act. Yet, when the sea be- came smooth, and nature recovered a little, he would manifest a degree of intelligence and spirit, which showed that he was by no means destitute of the elements of success, if the right calling had been chosen for him. As it was, he was incessantly moaning com- plaints at the wretchedness of his lot, and even calling down im- precations on the heads of those whose mistaken zeal for his wel- fare, had placed him in his present situation. Joseph, one of the other lads, was quite as averse to a sea-life, as was Francois, al- though his dislike arose from different causes. The son of a priest, educated, and accustomed to the refinements of society, there was no congeniality between his cultivated tastes, and the coarse, unintellectual life on ship-board. His mind having been strengthened by discipline, he evinced more fortitude than the 4C CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. other, and was wont to put the best side of things outward. How ever clouded his spirits by tempestuous weather, on the first abate ment of the storm, a gleam of sunshine would arise from his elas tic spirit, even before it appeared in the heavens over our heads We called him our moving barometer ; but he was even more than this, — for the captain referred to him all disputed points in literature, with the expectation of a satisfactory explanation ; and he more than once, on our passage, cheered our drooping spirits with the exquisite tones which he knew so well how to draw from his favorite violin, and as often amused us with graphic sketches with the pencil, — some of them so supremely droll, as to defy the gravity of the most imperturbable of our company. His hatred, nevertheless, to a sailor's life, was so unconquerable, that, with un- usual moral integrity, he would, I have no doubt, have run away. had an opportunity offered ; and it did seem too great a sacrifice thus to misemploy his fine intellectual powers and rare accomplishments The third boy, Pierre, or Peter, was just the antipode of the others. He was a true son of Neptune ; and was never more happy than when engaged arduously in ship-duties. His consti- tution appeared of iron, resisting alike the effects of heat or cold ; and, wet or dry, cold or warm, he was ever the first at his post,— while no murmurings escaped him, however severe the task, 01 great the privation. Notwithstanding his boldness and undaunted spirit, a smile of goodly nature was ever playing around his coun- tenance ; and your every request was promptly and willingly complied with. In the absence of the ship's steward, the captain had assigned the place to Pierre, who, in addition to this, stood his night-watch, and steered his trick, and was always up in taking in sail or reefing. He appeared to have no idea of selfishness, and was only satisfied in doing all in his power. Success to his ca- reer ! He deserves to be one day a commodore. CHAPTER VI. 9EAVY WEATHER — THE SAILOR A STRANGER TO FEAR — THE SUBLIMITY OF A DREADFUL GALE — THE ACCURATE RECKON- ING OF THE CAPTAIN — ONE NOT THE BEST TEACHER OF HIS OWN LANGUAGE — THE INTENSE DESIRE OF GETTING IN AT THE CRUEL SPORT OF FORTUNE — "'TIS SWEET TO BE DROWNED IN ONE'S OWN WATERS" — THE THRILL OF A NARROW ESCAPE — ECSTASY OF THE CREW ON DESCRYING LAND. The winds were variable, and the weather so mild in the first of our passage, that I began to conclude that crossing the North- ern Atlantic in the winter was not, after all, the dubious affair :hat I had made up my mind to its being, on leaving New York, — but, after passing a little to the eastward of the Grand Bank, ind reaching a more northern latitude than we had been sailing in, the wind set in to blow from the west, veering from that point to the north-west, when we had a succession of gales, so furious *nd constant, as indeed to speed us quickly across the ocean, but vvhich, at the same time, were near ingulfing us in the fearful surges of the deep. During this time, our brig could bear but little ranvas, or none; and she labored so severely from the cross-swell, >ccasioned by the veering of the wind some three or four points, as to require very frequent and protracted duty at the pumps. Such weather as we experienced is a trying ordeal for a vessel to pass through, when deeply laden with certain kinds of cargo, — such, for instance, as loose grain ; and many a craft, in passing it, 4* 42 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. has, doubtless, met a sad fate. As for our barque, she behaved most of the time manfully, although she appeared like a tiny bauble, a sport to the fury-lashed waves around. I must confess that, at times, I was somewhat apprehensive, lest an over- strained part might give way, and we all be hastened to the awful depths below us ; and imagination, with no direct object of con- templation, easily conjured up phantoms of dread and doubt Even the captain, — who, to sport with our fears, one day, at the table, jocosely remarked, that our hopes were certainly freighted in a fragile barque, that but a single plank separated us from eter- nity, and that if but an inch's length of oakum should loosen from a seam, then adieu to the bright scenes of this world, — wore an anxious and thoughtful expression. More even, I thought to detect at times, a lurking of fear in his varying expression. But the sailors evinced not the slightest concern. They attended to their duties with the utmost composure, and when their work was done, hastened below, threw themselves into their berths, and slept as soundly as if in a snug chamber at home. The sailor, when on ship-board, is a stranger to fear. The most tempestuous weather, such as would overwhelm the mind of a passenger, filling it with the keenest apprehension, he regards as only a natural occurrence, which he does not, if possible, allow even to interrupt his hours of rest. To illustrate how familiarity with scenes of danger gradually removes from the mind the fears with which they are naturally accompanied, I might attempt a faint description of an awful night which we experienced, and such as occur at rare intervals, even in the stormiest sea-going life, furnishing to the traveller who may witness such, vivid re miniscences in his entire after-life. The wind, which had been steadily increasing for several days, had now (December 16th) reached a degree of force, which it THE SUBLIMITY OF A TERRIFIC GALE. 43 seemed impossible to pass. It actually bellowed and screamed around our hull and through the cordage, as if old Boreas himself was present, goaded to madness by some unseen fury. It would frequently come in irresistible gusts, hurling off the ridge of a wave, and bearing it with electric speed, in the form of spray, far off to leeward. The smallest piece of the foresail possible to be set, just to steady the direction of the vessel, was more sail even than she could well bear ; and, under the herculean force of the gale, she reeled, staggered, yet pressed on, with a celerity abso- lutely thrilling. Under the pressure, the masts seemed straining from their base ; and, as she darted off with alarming speed on the ridge of a mountain-wave, the hull would quiver like an aspen-leaf. The sublimity of the scene presented to our view was in faithful harmony with the terrific grandeur of the occasion. The entire canopy of the sky was deeply overcast. Several degrees from the horizon, quite around us, it was dark and impervious, — but as the eye ascended the vaulted arch of the heavens, the clouds be- came more transparent, until, at the zenith, the full-orbed moon shed down her placid rays, which, after struggling through the broken, and light fleecy clouds over our heads, were reflected broad around, illumining ocean and sky. The broadly crested waves, in all directions, as far as the eye could reach, was a feature entirely new to me, and they contrasted fearfully with the 7 inky- blackness of the horizon. Ropes had been drawn diagonally across the quarter-deck, to cling to in a heavy lurch of the brig, or when an unlucky sea should break over. The captain and officers, in storm-sea rig, tarpaulin north-westers tied around the body, and spray dripping from moustache and beard, resembling half-drowned rats, were posted on what resembled the weather-side of the quarter-deck 44: CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. while I alone had the other. Here we remained during the night, scarcely a word being spoken, except the few necessary to complete the commands. The brig behaved manfully, scudding being her forte ; but two or three seas tumbled over on our quar- ter during the night, threatening to ingulf us. So strained was every part of the vessel, that the water rushed down through the seams of the deck, at other times perfectly tight, to the discom- fiture of the boys in the cabin, who sent up their shrieks, feeling, doubtless, that it was the signal of their departure from this world. Occasionally a sea of gigantic proportions would heave up almost directly over our heads, then in a playful, fantastic manner would topple and threaten to bow its briny crest full upon us ; but the good brig would some how or other manage to get the audacious mon- ster beneath her, when, pressed in each other's embrace, they would move on together for a moment with intense celeri*v. The night was one long to be remembered, and the scene fearful and thrilling in the extreme ; but fear was not the predominant feeling in my own breast. The sublimity of the occasion elevated the soul above the grovelling emotions of ordinary life, and entranced it in the regions of Nature's splendid domain. But how did the sailors on board view the matter ? They ap- peared to regard it with little more than ordinary concern. The watch on deck were kept most of the time at the pumps ; but as soon as relieved, they tumbled into their berths in the forecastle, and slept soundly until called again. The only complaint they made the next day, when the wind had abated, was, that the deck over their heads leaked so badly during the night, as almost to drown them in their cots. As we neared the English coast, it was with no reluctance that we parted with the incessant westerly gales, that we had fully ex- perienced in their terrific violence, and came into the variable EDUCATION AND TASTE OF THE CAPTAIN. 4^ winds and shifting weather of the coast. The dreary views that we had been so long accustomed to, were now relieved, and our hearts gladdened by the constant appearance of vessels bound to sea. Some of them I recognized as our noble American ships, which, with a white cloud of canvas, were majestically speeding their way to the " land of the t rave and the home of the free." Within a few miles of the coast, we spoke an English ship which had left sight of land a few hours before ; and, by exchange of reckoning, we found the longitude of the two captains to differ but a few miles. On expressing my surprise at this accuracy, the captain assured me that he rarely came wider of the mark ; and I had good reason to credit his statement. Added to good general scholarship, he possessed a thorough knowledge of navigation, and the collateral sciences serviceable to a complete elucidation of all the principles of the noble science. His ample state-room, on board, was liberally provided with nautical instruments, and he evinced a pride even in keeping the most complete and accurate account possible, of the ship's reckoning, by the several methods revealed by modern science. The captain showed his superior education and taste in nothing more pleasingly than in his choice private library ; and he exhib- ited a knowledge of literature, that would have done honor to a professor of bellelettres. He translated English with ease, but was not able, however, to speak a word of it ; and his attempts to pro- nounce were surprisingly awkward, and, at times, supremely ludi- crous. He often expressed a high idea of the value of the Eng- lish language. With a complete knowledge of it and the French, he could travel, he used to say, and be understood the world over The plan of mutual instruction, by set lessons, was not carried out by us with the same enthusiasm with which it was commenced. Frequent interruptions, occasioned by the duties of his post, and 46 CRESTS F/.OM THE OCEAN- WORLD, the want of habits of regular application, soon shook the captain's confident resolutions ; while myself enjoying just the advantages I ra^t coveted, of continually hearing the spoken language, in its varied phases of tone and accent, and freedom to converse at pleasure, I readily yielded to the example of the captain, of ap- pearing at lesson-hour at first rarely, and, finally, not at all. It M T as, doubtless, not the first ardently-formed plan, soon neglected. Besides, we found ourselves not so competent teachers of our res- pective tongues, as we imagined ourselves to be ; and I became thoroughly convinced of what I had long believed, that a person is not so successful a teacher of his native dialect, as of a foreign language that he has mastered. The reason is obvious. Having acquired his own language principally by imitation, he understands it little more than practically ; and he is surprised at his own ig- norance, when asked to explain some of its simplest elementary principles. In learning a foreign language, on the contrary, he necessarily begins at the basis, and learns by general rules, in a short time, much that would otherwise be tedious to acquire, and at great expense of time. Besides, having gone over the precise route himself, he knows by experience the difficulty of the way, — which cannot be apparent to the native, who has reached his haven by quite a different passage. He thus becomes a better pilot in the literary sea. As an illustration in point, of the woful ignorance often existing even among the learned, respecting the simplest elements of our language, the amusing spectacle was ex- hibited, a few years since, at the " Literary Hill," over which gleams one of our " Twin Stars of the East " of venerable pro- fessors, hoary with classical and oriental learning as well as age, actually submitting to the pupilage of a famous Professor Bron- son, devoting several hours a day of their hallowed time, to tug- ging away with most commendable docility and perseverance, and HEAD-WINDS ANi) CALMS. 47 for what, — why, wonderful to say, to learn the powers of the let- ters of the English alphabet. The ear of the facetious student, at this time, while passing through the halls of the buildings, to his recitation-room, was wont to be greeted with certain explosive groans, produced by the " dorsal and abdominal muscles," remind- ing him of the awful travail of the spirit, oppressed by the moun- tain-weight of ancient lore ; and striving with desperate energy to discover the neglected paths which lead to the oozing rills whence issue the tiny streams that form the ocean of all science and literature. And if he chanced to stroll through the groves about the " Hill," at almost any moment of the day, his ear was sure to be struck with strange, inhuman sounds, as if the very rocks and vales were vocal, and there were airy tongues on every side. It is unquestionable, I think, that with the exception of pronunciation, a person will not succeed so well in teaching his native tongue, as a foreign language which he has mastered. Our delightful anticipations of soon reaching land, were now most cruelly sported with, by a period of light head-winds and calms, — so that, at the expiration of several days, the captain in- formed me that we had not advanced during the time, the distance of two miles towards the end of our route. Such bitter experi- ences are by no means unfrequent. Indeed, it often occurs, in crossing the Atlantic, as elsewhere in passages, that a ship, after having been most agreeably wafted to within a day's sail or so, of port, and when the most intense gladness pervades every heart on board, with the joyful expectation of soon embracing long-sepa- rated loved ones, and of sweetly enjoying the blissful emotions that arise in the breast from all the endearments of home, native country, and friends, that these keen anticipations are suddenly doomed to a most tantalizing and provoking reverse, by a succes- sion of head- winds, calms, or even adverse gales, — sometime? 48 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. blowing the vessel back half the distance of her course, causing long and dreary days, and even months, to elapse, before actually reaching the eager goal of affection's wishes. There are probably few things in life more trying to the spirit's fond desires, than such disappointments ! While we were thus languidly reclining on the smooth and vo- luptuous surface of the circular expanse, of which we were the centre, yielding a slight motion to the gentle heaving of its majes- tic breast, the air became oppressed, and the entire sky gathered up in lowering presages, admonishing us of the certain proximity of a storm. From the dangerous nature of the European coast in this latitude, and its exposure, especially at this season, to sud- den and irresistibly violent gales, these dark omens conveyed no very comfortable feeling to my own mind, — although the rest on board seemed too much carried away with joyous anticipations of home, to share my apprehension. As I had fully expected, the wind, on the 29th, set in from the south, steadily increased in force, accompanied with rain. We continued ploughing steadily our way, under the pressure of a twelve-knot breeze, it being so thick that we were able to see but a short distance. To some casual remark of mine, in respect to the propriety of running for land, under so unfavorable circum- stances of seeing it sufficiently far ahead for safety, the captain playfully remarked that, running as we were, was indeed dangerous, but then it was " sweet to be drowned in one's own waters." Des- pairing, however, of making point d'Ouessant, the headland run for usually by French vessels coming from the West ; and, deter mining our precise situation, by means of exchanging signals with an English ship beating out, at 11a. m. we squared away, and ran directly up the channel. By 8 p. m., the gale was at its height ; and it being dark, and dangerous running, the captain very pru- A THRILLING INCIDENT. 49 dently deemed it best to heave the ship to, or, as the French ex- press it, to put the ship en cape. But, if it is dangerous running under such circumstances, the channel being commonly thronged with vessels going in every direction, it is no less so, lying to, — the vessel quite unmanageable, and liable to be run into by others. Of this we were made sensible, by a most thrilling incident. The brig had no sooner been placed in her situation to the wind, and everything properly secured, when the watch on deck cast up a most piercing shout, that a sail was bearing down close upon us. We all sprang upon deck, bellowed to the top of our voices ; and while the mate, with French celerity, placed the ship's lantern in the rigging, others set up a drumming on barrel-heads, and tin vessels, with whatever they could seize hold of. All this, which transpired in a moment, caused no change in the course of the approaching vessel. She was coming directly for our midships, and was nearing us with awful quickness ; but while revolving in my own mind, what I should do for safety in the moment of the expected terrible concussion of the two ships, there was all at once heard a confusion of voices on board of the other, a creaking of yards, in the act of changing the position of the sails, — when her towering prow, dimly defined by the white foam of her fore- foot, gleaming through the blackness, gradually turned toward our stern, and, in a moment, she thundered past us, within a stone's toss of our taffrail, a ship of gigantic size. It was a hair- breadth escape, and thrilled my nerves to their very extremities. How often is the sailor called to witness such scenes, when he is suddenly hurled upon the very brink of existence, with the fear- ful chasm of sudden death yawning full before him ! At one o'clock, the next morning, the wind changed to the north- west, and when we came on deck, at sunrise, we were greeted with a bright sky, and the frosty air from the land. Our men 5 50 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. experienced a night of hardship, but* they conducted bravely. Several vessels during the day passed us, bound out the channel. At eight o'clock in the evening we were called up to see Guernsey light. As the bright blaze, gleaming over the water, broke upon our vision, it sent a thrill of delight through every heart. For several hours, the most tumultuous joy reigned on board. The boys jumped and capered in wild ecstasy. This was quite natural. It was their first voyage, — six months far away from home. We had just completed a tempestuous passage. The long-anticipated day had arrived. They were soon to tread again the sunny soil of their beloved country, and embrace affectionate friends. It is true that the word home is not found in the French language, and that many of the delicious associations which its name calls up iD the breast of an American or an Englishman, are unknown to the French ; but no people are more enthusiastically attached to their country than the latter, — more proud of its glory, more passion- ately wedded to its bright scenes and delectable life. Their ardent and impetuous temperament gives liveliness to their expression. It was not surprising, therefore, that our boys appeared a little intemperate in manifesting their emotions. CHAPTER VII. LAND UPON THE OLD WORLD A MOODY FIT OF THE CAPTAIN — SANDWICH ISLANDERS ELEVATING EFFECTS OF OCEAN SCENERY UPON THE SOUL — SABBATHS AT SEA — SPORTS OF THE CAPTAIN PIG-BUTCHERY — ARRIVAL OFF HAVRE — EN- TERING THE. PORT — THE FRENCH WOMAN'S CHARGE FOR BEEF-STEAK — FRENCH MODE OF LIVING FURNISHED ROOMS THEIR AGREEABLENESS THE LAND-LAD Y'S DAUGHTER MISTAKE IN GETTING INTO MONS. P.'S SCHOOL THE PROS- PECT FROM THE HEIGHTS OF ANGOUVILLE — THE ENGLISH- MAN AND HIS DAUGHTER — MODE OF TEACHING CHILDREN — IMPROVEMENT SUGGESTED FOR AMERICAN MOTHERS. Early the next forenoon we saw in the mellowing distance, Isle d' Aurigny. Land upon the old world ! How strong the emo- tions it awakens ! At 3, p. m., Cape de la Hogue was visible, and at 7, p. m., the light of Harfleur became distinct to view. We were now gently rippling through the water with a leading breeze, — our course direct for Havre, which we expected to see in the morning. As I paced the deck, I musingly reviewed the brief stage of life just passed. My passage had been, on the whole, as pleasant and profitable as could reasonably have been expected. I had been treated with kindness, even indulgence, by all on board. This might have been owing in part to the disposition I cultivated of giving the least possible trouble to others. By con- vening freely with those on board, I had learned much of value to me, of their intimate sentiments and mode of thought and feel- 52 CHESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. ing. I gained a glimpse of how much can be accomplished by the mind, when nerved by strong determination and resolute energy. In the short space of four weeks, I had nearly com- pleted writing and pronouncing aloud, as a review, the exercises in Ollendorff's French Method, besides reading through a number of French and English books, and gleaning an armful of old num- bers of Knickerbocker and English reviews. This, with writing my journal, and several hours a day spent in earnest conversation, I thought quite successful for my poor brain. The captain was in general reasonably forbearing in disposition ; but one evening, at table, he was moody and lowering. He mut- tered some deep-toned ejaculations, and then mentioned a dernier resort, a horrid necessity of using arms ; and questioned the boys about their pistols. I then more fully comprehended the meaning of the two bright muskets, standing at the head of the table, and remembered with no feeling of pleasure, that quite a serious mu- tiny had broken out on board, in their outward passage, and that the captain had encountered difficulty with the commander of a French ship in Boston, and was expecting to be obliged to settle the dispute by the falsely-honorable mode of a duel, on reaching Bordeaux. The meal was swallowed in almost general silence, and when the officers and boys had retired, the captain observed to me, by way of explanation, that the crew had become indolent, and that he feared he should be compelled to make use of his pistols. He seemed aware of no other means of spurring their en- ergies than by such barbarity. The facility with which a French- man, Spaniard or Italian glides from the most amiable and placid state of temper to the most intense hate and fury, en the slightest provocation, is a marked feature in their character, and a Yankee in their company, if he desires to give no offence, is oblige d ro exercise the utmost caution of manner. ELEVATING EFFECTS OF OCEAN SCENERY. 53 Two of our crew were natives of the Sandwich Islands. They were very green when they came on board, in New York, having been to sea only in their passage from the Islands, and compre- hending not a word of the French language, and but a few sen- tences of English. Their progress was very marked. Before arriving at Havre, they could understand any order given, per- form with facility most of the ordinary duties, and even speak some French. They were quite intelligent, and if a fair speci- men of their race, furnish cheering evidence of the capacity of this class to reach an advanced stage of civilization. Many complain, and with some justice, of the irksomeness of an Atlantic-passage ; and yet, to a contemplative mind, the ever varying scenery is full of the deepest interest. The immensity of the ocean, wrapping the extent of the globe ; its infinite changes, — at one time a glorious mirror, then, swelling in gentle, undulating waves, rolling their silver volume, and again, in wrath- ful spleen lifting their angry foreheads to the sky, impress the mind with awe, and elevate it to a larger conception of the Infinite Power, which can hold the waters in the hollow of his hand, and with his breath fan the languid air into the furious tornado. The imagination is busy in fathoming its unknown depths, and in figuring the unseen monsters that lurk beneath its treacherous bosom. Bright aurora, sending her glittering shafts across the eastern sky ; the orb of day springing from his briny couch, and casting a flood of light into illimitable space, careering through the vaulted arch, and then plunging into the sparkling waves ; the gorgeous tints of the western sky ; the refulgent splendor of the starry night, like angel's eyes in azure robes ; the placid beauty of the queen of night, walking with graceful majesty through the heav- ens, and shedding her silvery light upon the smiling face of the 5* 54 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. ocean ; the fantastic aurora borealis gaily illumining the norther.- heavens; the water-spout, charged with the colors of the prism, raising itself from the sea like a column of crystal, supporting the canopy of the sky, — each, and all, are infinitely beautiful, and furnish food to the mind and the eye. But the purest and highest pleasure derived from a sea-passage, to a mind imbued with deep religious feelings, is found in the circumstances which heighten the enjoyment of its Sabbaths. A Sabbath on the ocean, when all around is grand and lovely, may be made a most refreshing season to the spirit. There is some- thing in the situation, and the surrounding scenery, to open the soul to an intimate communion with thoughts of the spiritual world. Man's loneliness, his feebleness, and utter dependence upon a supreme power, is then more forcibly realized ; while the boundless expanse which everywhere meets his eye, the immense vault of heaven over his head, and the fathomless deep beneath his feet, are striking emblems, and heighten the idea of the vague and infinite future, towards which he is speeding. What can be really more profitable, as well as spiritually fine, than a silent prom- enade, on some beautiful Sabbath evening, with a serene sky, pro- pitious breeze, and moon and fleecy clouds overhead ? The move- ment of the ship, darting forward in graceful celerity, quickens the sentiment of existence ; while those majestic creations of Na- ture's handiwork, floating in the azure vault, with an illimitable background of space, seem to elevate his soul, and beckon it to worlds where faith points to infinite happiness. I must say, that to me, the Sabbaths were not the most uninteresting features of our passage. Promenading the deck, and yielding to the inspiring in- fluences spread out all around, in such benificent profusion, or seated in some nook of the brig, studying the Scriptures, the hours .ame laden with golden treasures. The grand and simple language of SABBATHS AT SEA. 5 the inestimable volume was greatly heightened by the sublimity of surrounding nature, while the blessed thoughts seemed to breathe a purer and holier flame. I was certainly conscious of an awakening influence upon my own mind by the powerful ap- peals therein made to the wandering and fugitive soul, and of rev- elations of more intimate and broader views of the true purposes of human life, of the wisdom of Divine Providence, and of the holy attributes of an Eternal Father. The captain, differently educated, and under the influence of associations quite dissimilar to mine, in respect to the claims of the holy day, chose to while away the time, when the sea was sufficiently calm, in a more amusing manner ; but he had the po- liteness to allow perfect freedom of opinion, never seeking by his manner to annoy me in what must have been considered by him, peculiar habits, nor ever alluding, in the slightest manner, to sen- timents which led us to manners so different. One day, he exer- cised his skill with his rifle, in essaying to shoot upon the wing some sea-birds that had been hovering upon our wake. This, I felt to be a double wrong, being not only a sacrilege upon the ho- liness of the day, but an inexcusable barbarity, thus to torture the inoffensive creatures which, like winged-messengers of friendship and gladness, had come to soothe and enliven the drear loneliness of our way. On another, he spent the forenoon in testing the trueness of his aim, at pistol-firing, at a target, the distance of the brig's length ; and I must confess that, so often did he pierce the centre of the paper aimed at, that I should have felt a little reluc tant to be his antagonist in an affair of honor, if I had possessed the slightest repugnance to receiving an inconvenient piece of lead among the delicate machinery of the physical man. One Sunday, the captain announced that the day would be uoted by the death of one of our quadrupeds, and facetiously ob 56 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. served to me that the mate, who was a true hero in such matters, would be the executioner. The slightest incident in a sea- voyage, "becomes a matter of real interest and importance, in arousing ex- citement. All were soon upon the scene of action. Presently the mate, duly armed with a most fatal looking knife, gleaming in the wintry air, made his appearance. The ill-fated quadruped, as if inspired with a prescience of approaching doom, precipitately fled, and remained ensconced under a part of the long-boat, — and there, with a sullen but plaintive grunt, seemed to beg us to desist from our cruel and unnatural designs upon his life. He resisted suc- cessfully for some time the adroitness of the several persons who, by turns, sought to dislodge him from his retreat; but finally Jack, more successful, secured him by the hind legs, and drew him forth, — the little fellow kicking, uttering his piercing shrieks, and pul- ling back with true piggish pertinacity. It was all of no avail. He was laid upon his back on a table ; one boy held fast his ex- tremities ; and the mate with one hand held fast his muzzle, — the knife gleamed, the blood spirted up, then flowed gurglingly into a basin held by one of the boys, he quickly stirring it all the time to prevent its coagulating. At the spectacle, I involuntarily turned away, ejaculating an anathema at the barbarity of man, and breathing a sigh of commiseration at the fate of our fellow-voy- ager. Poor fellow ! He was not allowed the humble privilege of squealing in his agonies. After contributing much to amuse us by his antics, during the voyage, he had fallen a victim to man's cu- pidity and heartlessness. Thus it is with life ; those whom we have most befriended, are often the first to aid in our downfall and ruin ! As to the butchery, it was done with a dexterity which showed, that in matters relating to the cuisine, certainly, the French can challenge competition with the entire world beside. But to return. The bright morning of the next day (January ARRIVAL AT HAVRE. 57 1st;, revealed to our eager view the port of Havre. Soon, a small boat was seen approaching us, from the harbor, and rowing alongside, the pilot jumped on board of the brig, and nodding to me as he passed along, greeted cordially the captain ; when, de- scending to the cabin together, they were in a moment engaged in earnest and voluble conversation. The basket of news was quite emptied, when a lively discussion of its contents ensued between them, which lasted several hours. Being a little too late in the tide, we were obliged to reconcile ourselves to a delay, the more irksome, as it was fete-day in the city. I was however offered a passage ashore in the boat, but preferred remaining to finish my letters for home. "We were notified late in the afternoon of the flood, by the de- parture of the Southampton steamer, when, after a " hasty plate of soup," we squared away for the entrance of the port. In a few minutes we were sweeping gaily along, between the massive granite piers, that stretch far out into the harbor, forming a wide and deep canal, leading into the inner basin. The western pier was covered with people, attracted thither by the pleasures of an evening's promenade. They gazed on us with lively interest, as we sped past them; while on my part, being thus suddenly ushered into the presence of so many human beings, and the novelty of their mien and costume, filled me with pleasurable curiosity. The gates of the noble canal were soon opened, and we passed quickly into the wall-locked harbor, making fast in a magnificent basin in the very heart of the city. Declining an invitation from the captain to visit some acquaint- ances of his, in town, I experienced more pleasure in promenading the deck alone, yielding to reflections ushered in by the transitions of the scenes of a day. Later, however, I stepped ashore, and cautiously threading my way through parts imperfectly known ta 58 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. me, soon found myself bending over a Parisian journal in one of the principal Coffee-houses of the city. It being New-year's day the city was better lighted than commonly, and the promenades and cafe's were unusually thronged. As I passed along, the ani- mating movement of the crowd, the silvery tones of the females, the wild and merry laugh of the children, kindled within me emo- tions which were greatly heightened by the change from the monotony of a sea-passage, to the full and social amenities of a city. I was not permitted, the next morning, to remove my luggage from the brig, although the captain exerted his influence for me, as it would have involved some informalities in the custom-house ?egulations. These government restrictions, so different to an American, from what he ever meets with at home, and so con- trary to his idea of civil freedom, are annoying enough to him. But the better policy, as well as the better morality, is to submit to them with the utmost frankness and good humor. Much un- pleasant feeling, if not petty trouble, is thus prevented. The captain took me early to the office of his consignee, who gave me the address of Mr. Stanton, then our consul at Havre. The latter gentleman received me with all due kindness, and had the goodness to loan me late journals from the United States. He made me a certificate of American citizenship, to enable me to pro- cure from the French authorities a passport, — I having inadvert- ently neglected to procure one in New York, before taking leave. On learning that one principal object of my visiting Europe, was to inspect the schools and educational establishments, he had the politeness to give me a note of introduction to the Principal of the most distinguished private school in the city, of which his son was pupil. At the same time he observed, that the schools in Havre were inferior to the best in the United States. FRENCH MODE OF LIVING. 59 On leaving the bouse of the American consul, I met the cap- tain, who kindly offered his services to aid me in finding comforta- ble rooms. We entered a house of respectable appearance, the landlady of which was an intimate acquaintance of my companion. She took us hastily through her unoccupied rooms, briefly expa- tiating upon their several peculiar excellences, — but the remain- der of the time she was engrossed in the most lively conversation with the captain. As she was naming the price of meals, he ven- tured to observe that her charge was too much. A h, mon Dieu, non, Monsieur (she replied, with inimitable French exclamation), " the Englishman eats so much beef-steak for dinner." " But," re- plied the captain, "you are not so dull as to take my friend for an Englishman. He is, you must know, on the contrary, a true-blooded American, — a Yankee from the United States of America." Eh, bien, retorted the woman, "it is all the same, Englishman or American, they both like much meat for dinner, and that is very expensive." We left, — I promising to return within a mentioned time, if I decided to take rooms at her house. The agreeableness of one's stay in a foreign city, as well as his personal comfort in the time, will greatly depend upon the eligible- ness of his quarters, and the particular amenities of his hotel. As I could not remove my luggage from the brig till evening, I felt that the interim might not be spent in a more pleasing and instruc- tive way to me, than in choosing my quarters in the city, with the utmost deliberation, — examining things leisurely, with the double view of making a favorable selection in a room, and of casting a scrutinizing glance into this department of French life ; and my researches were crowned with curious interest. It will be well here to state, that the French mode of living, in cities, as practised by a large part of the inhabitants, differs widely from that with us, an \ forms a marked feature in French life. Instead of throng- 60 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. ing in boarding-houses, and eating in great haste, at a specified hour, it is a common practice to hire a furnished room, with the services of a domestic to keep it in order, and to brush your clothes and polish your boots, at a moderate price, and to take your meals at the restaurants, cafes, or even to have them brought to your room in quantity and of a quality to suit your palate or pecuniary disposition. Not only does the bachelor of small means and retired habits, live in this way ; but it is followed even bj» professional men, by respectable merchants, often by weal- thy citizens, and not unfrequently by ladies of character and repu- tation. This peculiar way of living, compared with our mode, practised by the same class of society, has a forbidding feature, it is true ; but it also has its charms. If it lacks the glow and en- dearment of the fireside circle, it can claim the complacent grati- fication of luxurious ease and perfect independence. To the traveller, it is certainly most convenient and agreeable. He can thus rise and retire when he pleases, take his meals when his ap- petite prompts, and where he chances at the time to be, — with the privilege of selecting his dishes, and paying for such only as he orders. After leaving the brilliant Rue de Paris, which extends to the north, quite through the city, I soon perceived the object of which I was in quest. Furnished rooms were seen advertised all around. A louer (to let); chambres a louer (rooms to let) ; une petite cham* bre garnie a louer (a small furnished room to let), were so fre- quent as to remind you of the sign-boards of the most business- thronged part of the city. The rooms were of every variety of size and furnish, adapted to the varying wants of different appli- cants. I examined each, as I passed along, making the most minute inquiries, and asking all pertinent questions that I could possibly think of. The apartments bore a faithful, but often au FRENCH LODGINGS. 61 bumble imitation of furnished lodgings in Paris, to which, in mat- tors of-taste, not only the provincial towns, but even the seaports, still look up with obsequious deference. The two prevailing pe- culiarities in the rooms here, as elsewhere in France, were ample- ness of space, and the number and variety of useful and ornamen- tal articles with which they were fastidiously furnished. The size of the rooms varied of course with the price of rent ; but even the cheapest possessed a degree of spaciousness that plainly told that, in a practical knowledge of the laws of hygiene, the French are, in this respect, greatly our superiors. They were not only furnished, as often with us, with an empty secretary, a clothes- press, ample means for ablution, etc., but with many other articles either of convenience or mere ornament, such as a mantel-clock, sofa, shower-bath, writing-desk and apparatus, library-case, and mere adornments of mantel-vases, pieces of statuary, pictures, and the more trivial and purely ornamental articles. The floors, either paved with wide, smooth bricks, or blocks of hard wood, set in mo- saic, and of highly polished surface, were rarely covered with carpeting, or more than a mere hearth-rug or two. The beds themselves were luxuries. They usually stood in a recess of the room, being of the easy and voluptuous form of a couch, and hav- ing curtains not unfrequently of damask or silk, gracefully cano- pied over them. The mattress, which in France is always of wool, is neater, and, speaking from experience, infinitely more com- fortable than cither feathers or hair. The bed-linen is never oi cotton material, and the covering of the pillow is sometimes silk. A French bed-chamber thus possesses an air of grace, luxury, and even oriental splendor, that is quite captivating to the senses. But it must be acknowledged, that a severely simple taste is sometimes shocked at the incongruous medley in the articles of furniture, and the profusion of trinkets used as ornaments. There is some- 6 62 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. times a most ludicrous contrast between the rich, second-hand fur niture, magnificent mirrors, and the coarse and homely appearance of the walls and wainscoting, that reminds you of pride in rags. The way to these miniature elysiums, too, is often through a wet and squalid court, up, for several stories, a crooked, narrow, dismal, rough-stone stairway, so dark, as often to require the presence of a light to thread your way along it, even in the day time. Unless you select one of the very few, comparatively speaking, of the rooms that look out upon the street, — as you glance through your window, your eye meets smoky, tiled roofs, roughly cut, and un- graceful angles of buildings, or recesses and narrow alleys, un- seemly with accumulated filth ; while, if you move from the im- mediate splendor that surrounds you, your spirits are chilled with the damp, lugubrious, and prison-dreariness that pervades all around. Thus situated, you are quite alone, although there may be scores of human beings half-imprisoned in the same house, se- parated only by walls. You will see none of the inmates of the same general dwelling, except you accidentally meet in passing to and from your apartment, some one of the indwellers who have to pass through the same general inlet. If a gentleman, he politely makes a passing recognition ; or if, perchance, the garrulous maid, with tidy cap and coarse petticoat, or the good-natured male do- mestic in blouse, both clubbing in wooden shoes over the stone steps, cracking their jokes in merry simplicity, they will step aside with deference to let you pass, or with alacrity comply with your demands. I finally secured a pleasant room, at a reasonable price, of a very agreeable woman ; and it may be observed, by the way, that females transact all such business in France. Her only child, a simple-hearted girl, of perhaps fifteen or sixteen years of age, had lately been married to a young man, a little her senior in age, and VISIT TO A SCHOOL. 63 greatly her superior in intelligence and style of manners. He gave me with apparent pleasure such information as I desired, and trom him I learned that although he honored the family with his company at breakfast, in their narrow tea-parlor, yet he invaria- bly took his dinners at a restaurant, either alone or with some friends. He followed no particular business, but managed to pass as a kind of second-rate gentleman. The good woman, his bride's mother, seemed proud of her son-in-law, and perfectly doated on her daughter. She lived in the most frugal manner imaginable, — thus husbanding her earnings, which were destined, doubtless, to maintain the newly-acquired dignity of her fond and loving daugh- ter. The ancient idea of marriage in France, by which wedlock was entered upon out of motives of ambition, or of personal ag- grandizement, or as a mere arrangement of convenience, is not yet quite freed from society. Having become fairly domiciled, I took an early opportunity, as might be supposed, to visit the school of Monsieur P , to whom I had a letter of introduction from Mr. Stanton. Accord- ingly, the next day, at an early hour in the forenoon, I reached the school-building, but by some mistake, strayed into the cusine of the establishment, instead of the drawing-room of the princi- pal. My unexpected appearance among some dozen female eooks and laundress- women (for it was a boarding establishment), pro- duced some confusion as well as merriment. On learning my errand, however, one of them, clad in a cap of snowy-whiteness, coarse but tidy petticoat, and wooden shoes, bid me follow her ; and, leading the way out of the spacious, plain, but exceedingly neat kitchen, up a broad and clean stairway, ushered me into the reception-room of the establishment. The bell rang, and presently the door opened a little way, and a portly face, beaming with ex- pression, and redolent with health, clad in a small velvet cap. 64 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. peeped into the room, and excused himself till four o'clock, saying that he was then engaged with some classes. It was precisely what I wished to see, — the principal teacher instructing his classes, — but before I could find time to reply, he had disappeared. As the day was bright, (something quite rare at this season in Havre,) I decided to make a visit to the Cote d' Ingouville, which is a suburb directly north of the city. It is situated on the steep de- clivity of a ridge which overlooks the town, and is adorned with beautiful mansions, embowered in shrubbery and surrounded with gardens, which rise in terraces one above the other. At the gate of Ingouville, you have a partial view of the fortifications of the city. They were begun by Louis XII, continued by many suc- ceeding sovereigns, but only completed by Napoleon. They are about three and a half miles in circuit, and consist of bastioned ramparts surrounded by trenches. The prospect from the heights of Ingouville, if it be a clear day, well repays the somewhat toilsome ascent, by the parallel streets of the village, which run horizontally along the side of the declivity, and communicate by narrow cross-streets. From the elevation upon which you stand, there stretches far away to the north and east, quite beyond sight, an uninterrupted verdant, grassy plain, in appearance, not altogether unlike some humble prairie of the West, in the early mantling of spring. As you turn towards the west and south, your eye falls upon the broad estuary of the Seine, embraced in arms of bold shores, moving its breast towards the stormy North Sea. Below you is the life-throbbing city, with its grand basins, forests of masts, glitter- ing spires, and dingy edifices, surrounded by bastioned walls. A little farther, just across the stream, peers the little village of Honfleur, nestled in harmonious surroundings, while far away tt ♦he south-east, sweeps in graceful curves the noble Sei*»e. tuI ENGLISH LANGUAGE IN HAVRE. 65 perhaps a steamer swiftly gliding upon its gentle bosom. The view is no less extensive than picturesque and lovely. In descending, I overtook an aged gentleman whom I had the good fortune to enlist at once in conversation. A little way on was his daughter, accompanied by a merry group of children, to whom she was the admired governess. They were improving the lovely afternoon in a stroll, and right heartily did they appear to enjoy the healthful pleasure. They bounded along in a wild excitement of joy, innocently vieing with each other in their at- tempts to heighten the enjoyment of their devoted teacher. The father, in his wandering loquacity, touched upon the many excel- lent qualities of his beloved daughter with all a parent's partiality, and recommended her superiority as a teacher, in a manner only pardonable in age. They were French children, and she was their instructor in English. According to my informant, they had enjoyed scarcely no other advantages of learning to speak English, except in their intercourse with their teacher and with each other; and yet in the very short space of time which she had been their governess, they had learned to speak astonishingly well. To convince me of the truth of his assertions, he called to him a little boy of the number, who replied to my questions with such natural expressions, and with a pronunciation and accent so accurate as quite to surprise me, although I was fully aware that very young children will readily learn to speak with idiomatic ease as many languages as they are accustomed to hear spoken around them. You hear English very commonly spoken in Havre. The large number of Americans and English always in the city, and the im- mense trade carried on with those people, make some practical knowledge of the language indispensable to the mercantile portion of the French residents, and to such others as have business with 6* Q$ CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. those who speak the English. But, besides this, the English language is cultivated by all classes, as a useful and fashionable accomplishment. The remark is applicable, with slight modifica- tion, to other cities and large towns in France. These children whom I met, illustrate the mode pursued gene- rally in France, by the wealthier classes, to give their children a thorough and efficient knowledge of a foreign tongue ; and it is based on correct principles of action. Instead of leaving their children to grow to an age when their minds are capable of more severe studies, and then giving them a dictionary and grammar, to learn practical language, they adopt a plan sim- pler, and more in accordance with nature's teaching, — that of placing their youth at an early age in a situation to hear the lan- guage spoken, which they then acquire with the utmost ease, and almost intuitively ; and at an advanced age, they are set upon the grammar and philosophy of the language, and attracted to explore the riches of its literature. In this way, the student gets such an apprehension of the language he is studying, as to be of positive utility to him in the practical pursuits of life ; — and further, of immense advantage in the harmonious development of his powers, — and so intimate and thorough, as to be a real source of re- fined pleasure. By the other way, he rarely gains more than a 6mattering ; his knowledge being so cumbersome, as to prove of little use or advantage, ever subjecting its possessor to vexatioD and chagrin. The period of childhood and early youth, too, is altogether the most favorable for acquiring a certain part of a language, which can never be learned half so well at a more advanced age, if, in- deed, it can then be learned at all. It is at this period that the ear is peculiarly delicate in discriminating sounds, an 1 the vocal organs flexible to execute their form. At this tim* >n life, the BEST MODE OF TEACHING CHILDREN. 67 faculty of imitation is in active play, and the memory is quick and seizable. Pronunciation of words, accent, idiom, which most stubbornly resist all laws of analogy in language, are mastered so easily and rapidly by the child in habitual intercourse with a cor- rect model, that he is almost unconscious of his acquisition. It has been more a sportive exercise, than a task. Now, it is just this part of a language which the adult" finds it most difficult to learn ; which, in fact, he never does learn, except in rare instances, with any high degree of success. And what is more, all this is done by the young pupil, when he could not be accomplishing much else in learning, — thus converting comparatively valueless time into golden moments, laden with the rich treasure of future year3. The practice abroad, of employing, at great expense, a gov- erness, as teacher of young children, might with us be very pleas- antly improved upon, at least in this branch of education. In the respectably-educated families of New England, certainly, the time of the mother is not, in general, so completely engrossed with the forms of empty etiquette, as to leave absolutely no time for fa- miliar intercourse with her young children. Let but such a mo- ther possess the power of speaking fluently, and with correctness, one or more of the prevailing languages of Europe, which she might as easily have learned from her own parent, and her tender offspring, only from hearing it used in daily intercourse, will glide into its acquisition as naturally, and with as much ease, as it learns its own tongue, or reflects the tone and manners of those by whom it is surrounded. And is not this a consummation to be desired ? How much of the learning sagely prescribed in school requisitions, is not really much less practical and useful, in the average lot of life, than a speaking acquaintance with one of the most extensively-used languages of Europe. The gigantic improvements in the facilities of travel, which are 68 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. fast bringing the nations of the earth in actual contact, and the spirit of the age kindling a desire for an enlarged intercourse of man with man, together with the rapidly increasing and intimate business relations of the mercantile world, seem to make a knowl- edge of some of the modern languages quite indispensable to such as venture beyond the narrow circle of village life ; and this need is every day fast increasing. My new acquaintance, to whom I was indebted for several items of information, admitted most fully, that the view from the heights was grand and lovely ; but it was not quite equal to that from the Downs in England. This I considered an altogether natural re- servation for an Englishman to make, who, whatever beauty he is forced to admit in a superior object abroad, always thinks of something in " Old England," which a little surpasses it. Many of the mansions, he said, were the residences of wealthy English families, attracted thither by the eligibility of the location, or, perhaps, from motives of economy, — but that there was little social intercourse between them and the French, even when circumstances favored such intercourse. It seemed that the in veterate hatred which has from time immemorial existed between the two countries, had sent its roots so deep into the soil of the national mind, as never to be eradicated. He remarked, that the trade at Havre was enormous, and that many merchants had be- come ruined the past winter, by excessive speculation. CHAPTER VIII. BECEPTION BY MONS. P . — AMERICAN NEWS A SMALL SPACE IN EUROPEAN JOURNALS NOTRE DAME — MUSEUM — VIRGIN MARY — ORIGIN OF HAVRE — NEW DOCK — AMERICAN SHIPS. Punctual at the hour appointed, I was back at the door of Mons. P's school. A waiter at once showed me into his private library, where he was standing in conversation with a gentleman. "Without offering me a seat, he drew from his pocket my note of introduction, which I had left in the morning ; and, after glancing at its contents, and observing that he did not read English, begged that I would inform him of my desire. To my request of the fa- vor of seeing his school, he replied with an embarrassed air, that as the entire intercourse was in the French language, that I might not well understand everything. To this, I ventured to say, that I should doubtless be amply compensated for any loss that I should have to forego, on account of an imperfect acquaintance with his language ; and I observed further, that perhaps the eye would prove an auxiliary. Whereupon he frankly stated, that he had made it an invariable rule, never to admit strangers to witness the recitations of his school. It embarrassed the pupils, and inter- rupted the exercises ; and then commenced a series of bows, so full of meaning, that I found myself unconsciously moving toward the door, where I encountered his professor in English. The lat-. ter gentleman passed out with me, appearing chagrined at my re- ception. As a partial amends for my disappointment, he evinced 70 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. toward me the kindest manner imaginable, and, on parting, gave me his card, and begged that I would accept of his services while in the city. This was my first visit to any European school, and I with some reason felt it to be anything but flattering to my hopes of a free and minute inspection of the modes of instruction pursued abroad. As to Mons. P , he was doubtless governed by ideas which we, reared among free institutions, hardly know. Further, his splendid library, genteel dress, and aristocratic air, all bespoke a flourishing condition of his school ; yet I could not quite dispel a lurking suspicion I always entertain in respect to the entire thor- oughness of that instruction which is so carefully veiled from public examination. There may be cases, where the school-room door should be closed to all visitors; but in general, I would have even the walls of the room of the transparency of glass, that the passing, every day world may look in upon the miniature empire within. President Polk's late message to Congress was reviewed by the leading Parisian journals, in a spirit of candor quite different from the tone of the English press, and especially that of the London Times' school of politics. American news, however, occupies but the shortest space imaginable in the European columns. Havre has not many public edifices of particular interest. Among those deserving of mention are the Tower, of Francis I ; a heavy, round edifice of free-stone, built by that monarch, nearly seventy feet in height, and eighty-five in diameter, which guards the entrance of the harbor on one side, and a small battery, mounting six pieces of cannon, on the other. The citadel, con- structed by Richelieu, in 1564, comprises the barracks, military arsenal, residence of the governor, etc. Some of the other public buildings are the marine arsenal, new theatre, commenced in 1817, MUSEUM AT HAVRE. 7J exchange, custom-house, entrepot general, and Royal tobacco manufactory. Among the churches, the principal is Notre Dame a singular edifice of the sixteenth century. I entered this church in the midst of a funeral ceremony. The coffin, of narrow dimen- sions, and of plain, unpainted wood, was covered with a pall of richly embroidered black cloth, and surrounded by a number of burning wax tapers, perhaps six feet in length. In a part of the nave, near the altar, were the choristers and musicians, in solemn and funereal dirge, chanting a requiem to the departed spirit. An ecclesiastic, in sacerdotal robes, conducted the impressive exercise, accompanying the music with the deep and peculiar tones of his voice ; and all the time pacing to and fro, before the altar. A number of religious devotees, or friends of the deceased, were promiscuously scattered in different parts of the nave of the church, either in the attitude of sitting or kneeling,, and with a manner and expression of the deepest religious veneration. Pre- sently, an officer with the insignia of office, accompanied by a num- ber of boys, perhaps twelve or fifteen years of age, appropriately costumed, escorted some half-dozen ecclesiastics, who passed before the altar, crossed themselves, and then retired. The entire cere- mony was by no means wanting in religious awe and impressive- ness, though of course destitute of the simplicity of worship which characterizes our protestant forms. But the main object of interest in Havre, to the lover of art, is the Museum, which stands at the head of one of the principal quays. It is an edifice of considerable architectural merit, dedi- cated to sculpture, natural history, painting, and literature. The principal hall of the Rez-de- Chaussee, or ground-floor, is filled w T ith statues and bass-reliefs. Among them is The Pedagogue, and A son of Niobe. The galleries, extending quite around the hall, are tilled with a respectable collection of specimens in the several de- 72 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. partments of natural history. The saloon, or principal hall of the next story, is embellished with paintings. The number is not less than four hundred, and taken together, illustrate the ancient and modern condition of the art, as well as the several schools. Among them, are fine specimens from the immortal pencil of Reu- bens, Vandyke, Raphael, Poussin, Gerard Dow, Murillo, Rem- brandt and others, familiar to fame. This important collection had been recently greatly enriched by the munificence ot Mr. Stephens, of Paris, who had given a marked proof of his benevo- lent disposition toward the city of Havre, by placing at its dispo- sal for the museum, a collection of choice paintings. A further trait of noble generosity, which will be appreciated by artists, was his granting permission to this class to make studies from the sublime creations. It is a characteristic of the fine arts, that while they ennoble the mind and refine the heart, they also awaken the desire to share with others the exalted pleasure they afford. I made notes of the paintings that struck me most favorably ; but as I cannot hope that the reader would obtain a very intelligible idea of them, by any description of mine, I must refrain from the attempt. Let me not omit to speak briefly, however, of two or three of these triumphs of human genius. On entering the prin- cipal gallery, the eye is at once arrested by a painting of unusual size, by a modern artist, representing Christ driving out of the Temple the Money Changers and Merchandize Venders. The sketching of the piece, denotes boldness of design ; and the atti- tude and expression of the actors represented, are quite natural. It has, moreover, the high coloring of the French modern school, united with admirable finish of detail. Chastity is represented at a female of exquisite form, and a countenance of angelic expres- sion. She is gently spurning the approaches of Furio, at the sams time pointing to heaven in admonition for aid. The conception of PUBLIC LIBRARIES. 73 the painter is most successfully embodied upon the canvas. There is another painting in the collection, by a living artist, which goes far to prove to my uncultivated eye, that modern art is by no means waning. It is a representation of the Virgin Mary, with the Infant Christ sleeping in her arms. As you stand gazing in mute rapture upon the lovely forms before you, you unconsciously bend forward, almost in expectation of hearing the gentle and de- licious breathing of the heavenly child, so perfectly life-like is it delineated ; while the soft and tender lustre of the slightly up- turned eye of the mother, so full of Divine hope and pious resig- nation, but lends irresistible effect to the angelic expression of her face. The painting possesses points of excellence, that I did not find surpassed in the collection ; and I felt almost to worship the genius that could transform to the living canvas, conceptions so beautiful and heaven-like. In an adjoining room is a collection of manuscripts, and also the Madeline, by Gayrard, in marble. In another, is the Library, which has twenty-twc thousand volumes. It is open to the public nearly every day in the week, — and not only warmed, lighted, furnished with table, seats, writing materials, but there is always in attendance a courteous librarian, who promptly provides you with whatever book in the room you may call for, and seems almost to be able to anticipate your desires. This is entirely free, as they are elsewhere in France ; and illustrates the noble care of the government of the claims of literature upon the community at large. Among other busts, are those of Voltaire and Rousseau, in the archivault of the gallery. The French mind universally, as well as that of the entire continent, bows with lowly reverence to the almost omnipotent sway of these powerful but singular de- parted spirits. They were to French literature, what Napoleon was to its military glory ; and neither the one nor the other can 7 74 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. be spoken of before a Frenchman, without exciting in his breast the most burning enthusiasm. The origin of Havre is quite obscure, it having been for some time an unimportant fishing-town. The present site was succes- sively occupied by the Gauls, the Celts, and the Romans ; but the Northmen were the first people to whom the present city is in- debted ; and Francis the First has the honor of being its founder. One of these bold invaders, Rollo by name, the Dane, as he was called, though a native of Norway, and chieftain by birth, being of a wild and adventurous disposition, and having with his follow- ers committed many piracies and robberies, were at length expelled the country by the king. They took refuge on some of the isl- ands that form gloomy and mountainous groups on the western coast of Scotland, which have been, in many different periods of the world, the refuge of fugitives and outlaws. Thence they made several fruitless attempts to land upon the English shores, but were everywhere repulsed. This was in the time of Alfred the Great. They afterwards made a descent upon Flanders, de- feated Hainault, its king, and compelled the countess his wife, to raise and pay an immense sum for his ransom. Coasting upon the north-western shores of France, after many attempts to land, which proved unsuccessful from the nature of that part of the French coast, they at length effected an entrance of the river Seine, and sailed up the river as far as Rouen. The haven at the mouth of the river being on the whole the best and most com- modious on the coast, was called the harbor, or as the French ex- pressed it in their language, le Havre, the word kavre, meaning harbor. In fact, the name was in full le havre de grace, as if the Northmen, or Normans, considered it a matter of especial good luck to have even such a chance of a harbor as this at the mouth of their river. COMMERCIAL IMPORTANCE OF HAVRE. 75 Havre, from the circumstances of its situation, is necessarily a great commercial emporium of France. It is the only respectable harbor on this part of the French coast. The river-mouths, and natural indentations along the perpendicular ranges of cliffs that form the coast, which might form harbors, are so exposed to the generally prevailing north-west winds, driving such a continual swell of rolling surges in upon the shore, as to choke up all the estuary openings with shoals and bars of sand and shingle. It is the seaport of Paris ; and, in regard to its importance, is to France, what Liverpool is to England. Indeed, it was a remark of Napoleon, that " Paris, Eouen, and Havre, form only a single city, of which the Seine is the great street." In the year 1836, Havre received seven-tenths of the cotton imported into France, more than half of the tobacco and wood for cabinet-work, half the potash and indigo, more than two-fifths of the rice and dye-woods, and more than one-third part of the sugar and coffee. It is built on a low, alluvial tract of ground, formerly covered by the sea, and is divided into two unequal parts, by its outer ports and basins, which stretch into the town, and insulate the quarter of St. Francis. There are nine quays, which, with the high street, form the favor- ite promenades. It has numerous public fountains, and is well supplied with water, conveyed by pipes from the vicinity. The port consists of three basins, separated from each other, and from the outer port, by four locks, and capable of accommodating about four hundred and fifty ships. These accommodations being inade- quate to the growing importance of its trade, in 1839, the French government demanded six millions of francs for its augmentation and improvement. The entrance being too narrow to admit the passage of large steamers, they were formerly obliged to remain in the outer port, imperfectly sheltered from high winds ; but a new basin is being constructed on the south-east, near the entrance. CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. It is to be spacious, and of splendid construction. I was told that it would be completed in three years longer, — it having already been in progress two years. A large body of water being re- tained by a sluice, and discharged at ebb tide, clears the entrance of the harbor, and prevents accumulation of filth. The rise of the tide is from twenty-two to twenty-seven feet ; and by taking advantage of it, the largest class of merchantmen enter the port. The water in the harbor does not begin perceptibly to subside, till about three hours after high water, — a peculiarity ascribed to the current down the Seine, across the entrance of the harbor, being sufficiently powerful to dam up for a while the water in the latter. Large fleets taking advantage of this circumstance, are able to leave the port in a single day, and get to sea, even though the wind should be unfavorable. The pier which forms the western entrance of the harbor, is about fourteen hundred feet in length, to the Tower, and extends into the ocean about three hundred and fifty feet. It affords a most delightful and romantic promenade, and is much frequented as such, by all classes. The principal part of the numerous shipping in port, were large American ships, which brought hither cotton, and were to take emigrant passengers chiefly to the United States, in return, and colliers from England. The week in Havre was improved most agreeably by me, — my curi- osity and interest not flagging for a moment, although I had before passed a winter there, and was in consequence quite familiar with its general physique. CHAPTER IX. ilONESTY OF THE FRENCH TO TRAVELLERS — LEAVING THE CITY — SCENERY THROUGH NORMANDY — PICTURESQUE COS- TUME OF THE FARMERS — THE SANG-FROID OF A FRENCH WOMAN — HISTORICAL RECOLLECTIONS ARRIVAL IN ROUEN — KINDNESS OF LANDLORD AND LADY MARKET-WOMEN UNDER MY WINDOW — GRANDEUR OF ROUEN CATHEDRAL RICHNESS OF INTERIOR — ROLLO, THE NORMAN — CHURCH OF ST. OWEN — STATUE OF VOLTAIRE — PALAIS DE JUSTICE MAID OF ORLEANS — VIEW FROM THE COTE DE ST. CATHE- RINE — AN HISTORICAL MENTAL PICTURE — THE ANCIENT PORT OF THE CITY — SUPPER — VIEW OF THE CITY. On Friday, the 7th, at 2 o'clock, p. m., I left for Rouen. A slight incident occurred in the omnibus on the way to the depot, which illustrates the perfectly honest disposition of the French people, au4 tbe honorable treatment shown to strangers, by the agents and Q + t3ndantn on the travelling routes. On paying my fare to Rouen, at the office in Havre, I had also paid it to the de- pot, in the oramhus. This latter, it seemed, was not generally done, — the omnibus line being in the hands of another company. Before reaching the depot, the attendant came round and took the fare from the pai jengers, and I paid with the rest. In a mo- ment after, I bethou/ht myself that I had thus paid the same fare twice, and statea U.'. fact to the gentleman sitting near me, and to the attendant. 'TJ r latter at first looked a little incredulous, but 7* 78 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. in a moment promptly refunded me the price of fare, while all in the carriage looked and spoke as if they expected he would do so as a matter of course. The train of cars comprise three classes. In the first, or su- perior, travel the aristocracy and the wealthy ; the second class of cars is filled with the middling and respectable sort of people ; while the third is thronged with the peasantry and those of the poorest condition of society. The first, and second class of cars, which differ from each other in little more than name and rate of charge, are separate carriages of neat construction, and fitted up interiorly in a comfortable manner. The distance from Havre to Rouen is fifty-five miles, and the fare in the different grades of cars, respectively, is ten francs, seven francs and fifty centimes, and five francs. A slight additional charge is made for your luggage ; and the company hold themselves responsible for its loss within a limited value. The utmost precaution is taken by the several officers of the lines, to prevent mistakes ; and the arrangements to avoid em- barrassments in passing to seats, in the carriages, are admirable. There is seen but little of the confused and hurried movement, so often witnessed among us, in scrambling for seats in the cars, when the bell rings, although we are wont to associate with the French physical man a tendency to impulsive movement. As we sped from out of the dense and gloomy walls of the city so suddenly into the smiling suburbs, — gladdened by the pleas- ing aspects of rural life, I was filled with rapturous emotions Doubtless, the dreary mantle of Nature's drapery which had now for several weeks enshrouded my mind, being thus suddenly re- moved, had a positive influence in the effect which the grateful scenery produced ; but there was something so unusual in winter- scenery in the pervading verdure, enamelling the gardens and SCENERY OF FRANCE. 79 pastures, as to create a most pleasing surprise ; while the pic- turesque combination of narrow walks fenced with shrubbery, broad aid majestic avenues lined with hoary elms, variegated plots of ground fastidiously arranged, and highly cultivated, and beautiful villas and mansions mellowed by time, with now and then a church-spire, moss-grown, peeping above the surrounding trees, were well calculated to inspire the mind with delightful emotions. I must say that the associations the scenery called up were mixed with the romantic, and my mind naturally reverted to the sylvan scenes so often the staple of the poet's imagination. It is a common observation, that the track of a rail-road does not, in general, lay through the most interesting part of a country ; but the remark I imagine is more applicable to new countries like our own, than to those like France, in which nearly all the land is under a high state of cultivation. Travellers, too, differ in their admira- tion of the scenery in France, some extolling its beauties in broad terms, while others see in any part of the country little to be praised. Speaking for myself, from the few glimpses caught through the windows of my carriage, in a ride from Havre to Paris, and through a few other sections, less pleasing, I must ac- knowledge its claims most decidedly to the beautiful, as it im- pressed my own mind. To be sure its beauty is of a specific kind, but none the less real, for all that. If it does not affect the mind in ? precisely the same manner as do the roughly embosomed lakes of Scotland, the precipitous and wild mountain-views, which flank portions of the Rhine, or the more sublime and dizzy peaks of the grandly awful ridges of Switzerland, it must not, on that account, be considered destitute of the necessary elements agreeably to move and elevate the mind of the true lover of Nature. It has its phase of beauty, which, regarded from its legitimate point of new, possesses high capabilities. Its predominating characteris- 80 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. tic, as it struck my mind, is that of placid loveliness, combined with the classic symmetry of the French character, heightened by the mellowing hand of time. What constitutes a peculiar and pleasing feature in the land- scape is, that the land is not enclosed. With the exception of an occasional graceful lattice partition a few inches high, to mark the separation of the lots, there were neither hedges, fences, nor walls, to break the continuity of the scene, — but vast tracts were spread out in every direction. These were divided into plots and squares of various forms and sizes, by the varieties of cultivation. The whole resembled an extensive garden but lately escaped from the shears and roller, displaying a vast carpet of an irregular tessel- lated pattern, variegated by numberless hues of brown and green. Occasionally, vast forests meet the eye, filled with trees of venera- ble age, and mathematically arranged. They were the royal demesnes, and hunting-grounds and parks connected with the country palaces of the kings, or, perhaps, the chateaux of the ancient nobility. Rarely is a habitation seen, except an occasional chateau, — the farmers residing in the compact villages, whence they issue every morning to- go miles, perhaps, to their daily toil. The roads, which cross these lonely scenes, smiling with the ap- pearance of fertility, are broad and straight avenues, bounded by majestic trees, between which, may be seen both before and behind, an interminable vista. At one of the way-stations, we received a small accession to our party. It was two neatly dressed and agreeable young women, in style belonging to the better class of French peasantry. At once, and without ceremony, they entered into lively and quite intelligent conversation with any one in the carriage who chose to reciprocate their social favors. Yet there was nothing in their manner that could displease in the slightest, even the most fastid- NORMANDY. 81 ions taste. Although evidently belonging to the humbler class in society, yet there was a natural grace, and even delicacy, in theii address and manners, so inimitable, as to make you forget whal you might have learned simply of the etiquette of politeness. In a few moments one of them evinced symptoms of illness, where- upon the other requested that the gentleman, by me, would have the goodness to seat himself near and opposite the swooning wo- man to hold in his, her convulsed hand. The fit lasted a few minutes, when, coming out of it, she engaged in promiscuous con- versation, as if nothing had happened, appearing as animated as before, abating an unpleasant dullness of the eye. This, I thought, was treating the ills of life as trifles, indeed. The historical associations which crowd upon onf. in passing through Normandy, lend a thrilling interest to its scenery. Every height has its legend and story. The Romans, to whom it was known before the time of Julius Cesar, and by whom it was after- wards conquered, have left here the traces of their powerful do- main. In the fifth century it became the prey of the Germanic nations, who, pouring from their Scandinavian hive, like a relent- less torrent, tracked their course in blood through the fairest regions of Europe. This portion was especially subjected to the ravages of these maritime freebooters. In the indolent reign of Charles the Bald, who vainly relied on the efficacy of gold, rather than on that of the sword, to oppose their progress, erroneously believing that by gratifying avarice, he could purchase its absfli nence, these indomitable semi-barbarians penetrated into the very heart of the country. At length, in 912, the Norwegian Hollo, or Raoul, ascended the Seine, and obtained from Charles the Simple, cession of the whole of maritime Neustria and the hand of Gisla, his daughter, in marriage. Rollo subsequently received Christian baptism in the cathedral of Rouen, and became the first duke of 82 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. Normandy. It was annexed to England when William, duke of Normandy, obtained the English throne, in 1066, and subsequently became the battle-ground of France and England. It is not sur- prising then, that the traveller goes through this beautiful part of France with a feeling of enthusiasm. At length the cars stopped ; and the bustling among the passen- gers told, plainly, that we had reached the ancient and curious city. The passage occupied two and a half hours, and the rate of travel averaged twenty-two miles to the hour, including several way-stoppages. As it was evening before we arrived, I missed the unique and pleasing views which break upon the eye of the trav- eller, as he enters this renowned place. On leaving the cars, I was at once surrounded by porters, soliciting my baggage to take to any hotel I might name. One, a lad, followed me some dis- tance, and entreated with so much persistence that I finally yielded my valise, more as a reward to his perseverance than from any need I actually felt for his services. After threading our way some distance through the narrow, crooked, and imperfectly lighted streets, we entered a broad square, then passed through a gate- way in a high stone wall, crossed a narrow court, which brought us to the hotel du Havre, Place du Marche, Neuf. No. 21. The landlord, a large man of lofty but courteous bearing, received us with apparent pleasure. With a single word, uttered in an under tone, he dismissed the porter, which I endorsed, by handing him ten sous for his service to me. I was at once shown the different rooms in the house, not occupied, — the landlady, a most voluble and amiable soul, and so insignificant in appearance as to be taken b ooner for one of the domestics of the establishment than for the lady of the hotel, leading the way and only stopping to exhibit the distinctive claims of the several apartments, which she did with nil the ingenuity peculiar to a French woman. Indeed, in each AGREEABLE LANDLORD AND LADY. 8a room that we entered, she favored me with a brief dissertation of its merits, but in so measured terms as to convey the idea of its being a recitation, rather than an original essay. I engaged an unpretending room at thirty sous per day, without fire or attend- ance. The meal I had ordered, consisting of tea, bread and but- ter, and omelet, was now ready. It proved most excellent in quality and preparation, and I despatched it with a zest sharpened by the fatigues of the day. The remainder of the evening was spent by me most agreeably, in the society of the gracious land- lord, and his sweet-toned, chatting wife, who, with the greatest good-nature and kindness imaginable, opened to me their private boudoir, and gratified my eager curiosity in recounting startling events preserved in the legendary annals of that portion of the country. He, swelling with ancestral pride, related many a daring deed of some chivalrous Norman knight ; while she, more super- stitious, dwelt upon some strange and blood-curdling event, wrested from the mysteries of the dark age of the past. They also gave me a verbal sketch of the noted objects and places, in the city and its environs, worthy of a special visit, — thus condescending to be- come for me a very agreeable and convenient guide-book. Their thrilling and captivating narrations so haunted my imagination during the night, that I turned ever and anon on my pillow, await- ing, with impatient desire, the first glimmering of the dawn that was to reveal to view so many venerable relics of a wild and heroic age. Even before daylight, my ears were saluted by the clattering of wooden shoes over the rough pavement under the window of my room, and the confused commingling of garrulous and shrill tones of the human voice ; and the first view that my eye embraced was the square, filled with market-women, in their picturesque costumes, each at her stall in the open air, supplying the thronged customers with the essential elements of the day's dinner. 34 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. There are many memorials of antiquity in Rouen, all of deep interest to the intelligent traveller ; but among them, the Cathe- dral stands preeminent. This celebrated edifice is, by general ad- mission, one of the noblest religious structures in France, or even in Europe. Of the wonderful architecture of the vast pile, 1 shall hardly attempt a description ; for, although some idea may be formed of its magnificent proportions, by a verbal account, yet the grandeur and awe with which it strikes the mind of the be- holder, can never be conveyed by words. We stand before the immense mass ! The mind at first is al- most overwhelmed with its vastness, its grandeur, its inexplicable power. The breadth is one hundred and three feet, while its length is no less than four hundred and thirty-four feet. Its elab- orate and richly-ornamented front, has three fine portals, over the central of which is a square tower, and a beautiful spire of iron- work, reaching to the dizzy height of four hundred and sixty-four feet eight inches, only thirty-eight feet less than that of the pyra- mid of Cheops. This is flanked by two lofty but dissimilar tow- ers. One of these towers, being older even than the remainder of the building itself, is in a simple and unadorned style ; but the other, built at the end of the fifteenth century, is justly admired for the beauty of its architecture. As you gaze upon the compli- cated pile, amid the mazes of its inextricable details, your eye is lost among niches, corners, points, and pinnacles, ornamented with images of apostles, saints, or, more frequently than either, of the Virgin and Child. These, however, are no unmeaning ornaments, but they served as a volume of religious history, conveying to the unlettered masses, real facts of Scripture history, and fixed them in the minds of the people with a vividness and reality that could not have been secured so well in any other way. We will enter the gloomy Gothic structure. Our sensations ad- CATHEDRAL AT ROUEN. 85 * tnn ">f no description. It is not the religious sentiment which seizes the mind, only so far as that feeling is always inspired by the works of genius ; but an indefinite and almost supernatural awe. The vast space, the silence that reigns within, the grandness of the architecture, the solemnity of the monuments, the impres- sive power of the pictures, and the effect of all these objects im- mensely heightened by the light which comes streaming in from one hundred and thirty windows, the glass being stained with every shade of color, from fiery red to the soft tints fading into white, until nave, and choir, and aisles, seem magically illuminated; while they elevate the soul, — fill it with vague and profound im- pressions. Indeed, you leave the church, for the first time, with an oppressive feeling. The idea was too vast and complex to be received into the mind at once. We reach the sublime but by degrees ; and it is only after a number of visits, and indefatigable 6tudies, that the soul is expanded to anything like a just compre- hension of the vast and magnificent proportions of the wonderful edifice. Its contemplation awakens a new sphere of ideas. Its immense vaults within, enlarge the thoughts of man, — while the sublime works of genius around, lend to it a spiritual glow and fer- vency, — and the summit, losing itself in the air, seems to bear the brigkt image of the soul direct to heaven. The interior is truly rich in monuments, although many of these sombre rt lies have been much mutilated by the numerous religious and revolutionary wars which have from time to time distracted the country. You see there the tomb of Richard I. (Cceur de Lion), many dukes of Normandy, and seventeen archbishops of Rouen ; also, the fine mausoleum of the two cardinals d' Ambrose. There, too, lay the form of Rollo, stretched out on his magnificent tomb; and, as I gazed on the mouldering urn, containing the last ashes of the stern chieftain, I could not but recall many a 3 Q6 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. striking incident in his life, indicative of his indomitable spirit. It was in this very church, if I remember rightly, that was per- formed the ceremony of the nuptials of Rollo with Gisla, the daughter of Charles the Simple. Here, too, took place the cere- mony of his profession of Christianity, and of feudal homage to the king. In regard to the renunciation of his own faith, in favor of that of the Christian religion, history informs us, that little dif- ficulty was made either by the rude warrior, or by his ignorant followers ; for the dark mythology of Scandinavia does not, on any occasion, appear to have entwined itself with much strength around the affections of its votaries ; but when, upon formal inves- titure with the duchy, he was instructed by the attendant prelates to kiss the feet of his liege lord, the indignant spirit of the veteran revolted from so humiliating a testimony of subjection ; " Never, by God," exclaimed he, " will I bend my knees to, or kiss the feet of, a brother man ! " The church of St. Owen, is another of the interesting religious edifices of Rouen, and belonged to the oldest conventional estab- lishment in Normandy. It is situated in the Palais Royal, and occupies a larger extent of ground even than the Cathedral. It is a most admirable specimen of the pointed Gothic, ■ — its fine oc- tagonal tower, rising from the centre of the building, is two hun- dred and fifty-five feet in height. There are several other churches in Rouen, well deserving of notice, and some of them of high antiquity. The Town Hall, adjoining the Church of St. Owen, was origi- nally a portion of the conventional edifice. It is now appropri- ated to various public offices, and contains the museum and public library. In the latter, which consists of 80,000 volumes, and about 12.000 manuscripts, I was shown several objects, which, from the associations connected with them, possessed peculiar in- STATUE OF VOLTAIRE. 87 terest to me. Preserved in a neat mahogany case, are the keys of the city which had been presented to Napoleon. This is only one of the numerous evidences which the traveller is constantly meeting with in France, of the almost perfect adoration in which the great captain is held by the entire nation. Several of the manuscripts are very old, and are musty with the damp of years. I was shown more than one, said to have been from Voltaire, one of the master spirits of modern literature. As I turned over the leaves, I could hardly realize that the lines be- fore me were traced by the pen of a genius so powerful as to have moved to its centre the entire world of thought and opinion. A little further on, is a bronze statue of Voltaire. I was told that it was an uncommonly faithful likeness. I must confess that, at the first glance, I was filled with disappointment and chagrin. It was some time before I could reconcile the apparently insignificant fig- ure before me, with the splendidly grand beau ideal image which my imagination had pictured to my conception. A few moments' reflection, however, and a more careful study of the face, rectified measurably my first illusion. The countenance was remarkably ex- pressive, — - and, in the angulation of the muscles, bore indisputable marks of that steadiness and intenseness of thought, which is a condition of clearness of conception and acuteness of discrimi- nation, qualities rare, of great excellence, and withal so prominent in the style of the eminent writer. He was sitting in an armed chair, the body slightly inclined forward, in an easy position, and the hands holding firmly the sides. The impression which I car ried away, was not altogether pleasing, though it was distinct and profound ; and has haunted my imagination at times ever since. The statue was rather below the medium height, I should judge ; I I -e body lean even to gauntness, while the sharp, prominent atures, skinny hands, impending eye-brows, and deep, hollow 88 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. eye-sockets, gave a cadaverous aspect almost shuddering to the feelings. There was, besides, a mysterious air enveloping the whole face, impossible to be satisfactorily revealed. But the most distinct feature in the character of the remarkable physiognomy, was a certain facetious, exulting expression, such as I have not elsewhere seen, and resembling what we may well suppose to have been the look of his Satanic majesty, when contemplating the suc- cessful consummation of his foul plot, hopelessly to ruin our first parents, and through them the whole human race. Had Voltaire produced but one work, and that the one he entitled Candide, there would have been an exact resemblance between his expressed thoughts, and the most marked point in his expressive face. A few other objects of note shown me, were, a miniature church, very elaborate and curious in workmanship ; a bronze statue of the Chinese emperor, surrounded with his mandarins, in very nat- ural attitude ; and one of Napoleon's eagles, bearing this inscrip- tion : Force a la hi, et fdelite d Temper eur, which may be ren- dered, strength to the law, and fidelity to the emperor. The museum has been open to the public, since the fourth of July, 1809. The pictures number three hundred, and many of them are very striking. I noted, among others, A Descent from the Cross, A Scene of Carnage between the Romans and Jews, Por- traits of the Sacred Writers, A Fishing Smack, Christ and the Woman at the Well, The Death of Abel, and a pilgrim in a state of religious ecstasy. There was also a most exquisitely beautiful statue of a Madeline, in marble. From the library, I went to the Palais de Justice. This magnificent Gothic palace was built for the parliament of Normandy, at the end of the fifteenth century. La Salle de Procureurs, or Hall of Attornies, is a noble saloon, whose dimensions and proportions are striking beyond anything I had before seen, or have witnessed since. It is seventy feet from JOAN OF ARC 89 the pavement, and is unsupported by a single column. The acute arched ceiling springs over your head, like the expanse of the sky. In crossing the square of La Pitcelle, I stopped a moment to regard an indifferent statue of the famous Joan d'Arc, or Maid of Orleans, erected on the spot where that remarkable heroine suf- fered martyrdom in 1431. There is little in the statue to admire as a work of art ; but the feelings it awakens, and the reflections it gives rise to, are sufficiently absorbing, to arrest the step of the historic traveller. This remarkable woman was born of obscure parentage, and spent the early portion of her life in serving in a menial capacity, deprived of the advantages of education, and those favorable circumstances which are deemed essential to confer distinction or eminence. But these obstacles did not hinder her from rising to a sphere of influence, hardly equalled in the annals of history, and of handing down her name encircled with a halo of light, to future time. Possessing genius of a high order, her soul panted for something above the lot Providence had assigned her ; and her great benevolence naturally led her to look for some way in which she could be useful to her people. This soon ap- peared. France had been invaded by the English, and the affairs of the French king had become reduced to the greatest extremity. To rid the country of the hated English, would confer the greatest of blessings on her nation, and render her name illustrious in all forthcoming time. Possessing a powerful imagination, united with deep religious fervor, mixed with the superstition of the times, she revolved upon the thought, until she imagined seeing in a vision, St. Michael, the tutelary Saint of France, who ordered her to raise the siege of Orleans, which the English were then besieging, and to preside at the coronation of Charles VII, at Rheims. Placing herself at the head of the French army, she infused so much ardor and enthusiasm into the French soldiers. 8* 90 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. that the English were defeated, the siege raised, and the Fr ,n&. kino- crowned, just as foretold. She was, however, subsequently wounded at the siege of Paris, and taken prisoner at Compiegne. Instead of treating her honorably as a captive, the English fixed an indelible stigma upon their character, by treating her harshly, and causing her to be burnt at the stake. Her simple manners, purity of sentiment, and the courage and intrepidity with which she walked to the fatal stake, have rendered her name a favorite in the galaxy of female stars of the first magnitude. But while the French regard her as the saint of France, the English, in the spirit of their deep-rooted animosity to the French nation, have characterized her as a sorceress, a giglot wench. Even the genius of Shakspeare forsakes him on this occasion, when he represents her in an odious light, entirely disproved by history. The Cote de St. Catherine is a steep declivity of considerable el- evation, overlooking the city on the east. I reached the summit by a circuitous route, after no little toil over the steep road rendered slippery by the recent rains. But on reaching the height, I was amply repaid for aH my fatigue, by the fine view spread out before me. The city, comprising 100,000 inhabitants, with its angular and dingy roofs, and its numerous lofty spires and towers, piercing the murky cloud that partially enveloped it, lay below me. The verdant and delightful country by which it is surrounded, adds to the pleasing aspect. The Seine, by which it communicates with the Capital on the one hand, and with the flourishing seaport of Havre on the other, is here crossed by a bridge of boats and one of stone, and divides it from its large suburb of St. Sevier. The boulevards which are planted with trees like those of Paris, and the line broad quays and cours, which extend along the banks of the river, are in striking contrast with the narrow, crooked streets of the old city. ROUEN. 9 1 As I stood gazing on the scene before me, I could not help fall- ing into a musing mood. The wave of history was rolled back, and the mind, quickened by the influence of local association, and sped on by the power of memory, ran rapidly through the events of the past, vividly picturing to the mental eye, the renowned exploits of a chivalrous age. I could almost fancy to see drawn out in martial array before me, on some plain, those stern Norman knights, who were the terror even of the kings of France, heavily mounted on war chargers, and clad in steel armour ; and either meditating some expedition of blood, or recreating in the desperate feats of chivalry for the amusement of the softer sex. The Normans are proud of their descent, and are ever recounting some striking feat of their ancestors ; and well they may pride themselves on tracing their or- igin to those powerful barons who waged war successfully with France, and held even England in subjection, for so many centu- ries. I reached the foot of the hill on the west side, opposite to where I made the ascent, with quite as much difficulty, sometimes sliding, at others, involuntarily running, — and often apprehensive of losing my equilibrium, so steep was the descent, and slippery and difficult the way. Returning to my hotel through the most ancient part of the city, afforded an interesting view of what renders Rouen a most delightful resort to the lovers of the antique and curious. The streets were narrow, crooked, and without side-walks ; the pave- ment of square stones declining to the middle of the street, from the houses, on either side. Of the quaint old houses which lined the sides of the streets, an American reader can hardly form a conception. Their strong oaken frames are filled in with cemenl or brick ; their narrow fronts, and high-peaked roofs, covered with slates or tiles, while many of their angles so jut over the street as 92 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. to obscure the sun's rays except at noon-day. Scarcely any two houses are alike, and as for blocks of houses, such as we see in our cities, there is no such thing to be found. The garniture of the shops, and the costume and manners of the people who reside in this quarter, are quite in keeping with the oddness of other gen- eral features, and render the whole a rare picture by itself. In- deed, you would almost fancy that the entire quarter had been recently dug up, as some ancient Herculaneum, where it had been smothering under the ashes of oblivion for ages. Most travellers go direct to Paris from England by another way, and thus miss seeing, next to Paris, probably the most interesting city in France, if not in Europe. Outside of the boulevards, the appearance of the buildings is quite different. The streets are wider, straighter, and you often see handsome houses, built of the soft cream-colored stone, that abounds everywhere in France. The old and new quarters pre- sent a heightened contrast, for which you are indebted to the in- crease of population and wealth of the place of late, owing to the concentration of trade at Havre, the introduction of steamboats upon the Seine, and the fine rail-road which has recently been completed, connecting Paris, Rouen and Havre, as commercial cities. Dined at 5 p. m., the usual hour in France, at the Table d'hota, — the landlord doing the honors of the table in a dignified and affable manner. The course was frugal, consisting only of soup, fish, and three kinds of meat, with dessert. The dishes were, however, exceedingly nice, and the whole greatly enlivened by the grace, vivacity, and intelligent conversation of a small number of French gentlemen, who formed part of the company. They at once drew me out in conversation, interested themselves in the object of my tour, — taking much pains to give me all the in - IMPOSING APPEARANCE OF ROUEN. 93 formation in their power that could be of possible service to me. They even praised my French. This, however, I took as an act of excessive politeness on their part. I may be allowed to remark, however, that the French never laugh at your mistakes, unless, indeed, they are, what needs sometimes happen, uncontrollably droll. They rather assure you, anticipate your meaning, and, in a most delicate manner, set you right. In this respect, at least, we may take, with advantage, a lesson from this people. One of the gentlemen had an uncle in New York ; the landlord had been in England, and spoke English ; another gentleman intended soon to travel in America, — so that these circumstances brought out, only increased the interest of conversation, bound us closer in the bonds of social friendship, and it was only till after a late hour that we parted, after exchanging cards. Rouen has an imposing external appearance. It is oval, or rather lozenge-shaped, and was, for a long time, strongly fortified ; but its ramparts are now demolished, and their place occupied by a series of boulevards. The squares, or open spaces, are shabby and irregular, and, except the Place Poyale, near the centre of the city, are all insignificant in size. Some, however, are ornamented with public fountains, of which the city is well supplied. The Fontaine de Sisieux is a curious piece of antique sculpture, re- presenting mount Parnassus, with figures of Apollo, Pegassus, etc. Rouen is an opulent city, and is so eminent for its cotton man- ufactures, that it has gained the title of the French Manchester. Formerly, the spinning and weaving were both done by hand ; but now, both water and steam-power are largely used. It is stated by Villerme, that in 1840 there were fifty thousand persons, men, women and children, or about half the entire population of the city and suburbs, engaged in the cotton manufacture. There are numerous institutions of interest in the venerabk 94 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. city ; among others, may be mentioned the Royal, and University Academies, a royal College, Bible Society, Schools of Design, and Navigation, and various charitable institutions. But Rouen is particularly interesting to the student, as having given birth to Borne of the most illustrious individuals of whom France has to boast, among whom may be named Pierre Corneille, deservedly Burnamed Gh*and, one of the greatest modern dramatists ; also, his brother, Thomas Corneille ; Fontenelle, the academician ; Bo- chart, the famous Oriental scholar ; Daniel, the historian ; Brumoi, and others. CHAPTER X. ANNOYING TRAIT OF FRF*« CH LANDLORDS — COMPARATIVE EX- CELLENCE OF RAILWAYS IN FRANCE — EMOTIONS ON ARRIVAL IN PARIS — HOTEL DU HAVRE, A SCENE WITH THE LANDLADY --KINDNESS OF MADAM DAVID. Jan. dth. Took the morning train for Paris. My bill at the hotel, where I had stopped in Rouen, considerably exceeded my expectations, by which I understood some of the especial polite- ness shown me by the affable landlord and his amiable wife was not for nothing. As I had made a particular bargain in regard to terms, before engaging rooms, I demurred a little at his charges, — whereupon he condescended to inform me of the usage at first- class hotels, of adding a franc per day for extras, whether the traveller received them or not ; and it was expected, further, that the travelling gentleman would hand over something besides for the service of domestics, etc. I convinced him, in a word, that I was not altogether uninformed in the premises, when he at once rescinded the charge for extras, remarking simply that I might give at pleasure. This practice of taking the advantage of the ignorance or good nature of foreigners, who are travelling in France, is common, if not universal. And I am not sure that it is peculiar to France, but that it prevails on the continent. It is needless to add, that this petty swindling is sufficiently annoying, especially to an American, who, though not entirely unacquainted with a species 96 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. of over-reaching in business, has no experience corresponding to this. In the United States, one never feels the least necessity for entering into stipulations beforehand, for a night's lodging, or day or two's board at a public hotel, to prevent paying double the or- dinary charge. But quite different is it in Europe, where, in fault of a previous understanding as to price, you will pay for the ne- glect. In other respects I found the French landlords and ladies to merit high commendation, — polite, accommodating, and strictly honest. This alone seems a defect in their admirable manner toward travellers. Like unamiable national traits often met with elsewhere, it has the strength of long usage to plead its innocence. Surprising it is to a stranger, how such per- verse dealing could ever become so ingrained with the public, as to render the national conscience blind to the fault. It adds an item to the chapter of human inconsistency. I found the general reception-room, at the depot, spacious and even elegant. After delivering my luggage, buying a ticket, etc., I passed into a neat and well-furnished parlor, having besides, the very convenient appendages of water-closet, and recesses for ar- ranging toilet. The cars were soon by the door, and we issued for seats, leaving our tickets as we passed out. Each took the coach he fancied, and there was a slight bustle for choice. In a moment the city, with its lofty spires, was receding in the distance, and we were wending our way, with the speed of an arrow, toward the queen-city. I must confess that my feelings were elate at the thought of so soon realizing the splendid dream of my youth. On we bounded, through hill and dale, over river, under massive arched tunnels, — some of them of great length. The French railways have the appearance of being thoroughly construct- ed, — the motion is even, and the carriages easy and com- fortable. The interior of the carriages of the second grade are RAILWAYS IN FRANCE. 97 lined with white linen, and side-lamps are kept burning to abate the gloom that would otherwise seize upon passengers, w aile pass- ing under the long tunnels, of which there are several upon this route. The road crosses the Seine no less than six times ; and this, together with the many deep cuts, the expensive depots, and way-stations, and the superior appointments in respect to officers, must needs render the road an expensive one. Its great cost will be more apparent, when we consider that it runs through the heart of Normandy, cutting into valuable parks, gardens, and sometimes, passing near villages, and even through them. The travel on the road, judging by the number with us, and the mod- erate rates of charge, would seem hardly to warrant the opinion that the stock is remunerative to its holders, though it must be taken into the account that labor is cheaper, and per-cent. interest less in France than in the United States. But the road is of grand importance to the commercial interest of the three promi- nent cities of which it forms the connecting chain, — and its stock must continue to enhance in value upon a most durable basis. I noticed one feature in the appointment of the road which I have not observed elsewhere, and which, it seems to me, is worthy ot mention. Men were stationed at distances along the road, and as it grew dark I noticed that they held lanterns. I was told that it was their duty to hold themselves in readiness to render aid or succor in case of accident while the cars were traversing the road, as well as to keep the track clear of encumbrances of every kind whatever, whether made by the carelessness of others, or by malicious-minded persons. And when it is considered how often accidents upon railroads happen in our own country, — for instance, Bometimes arising from obstructions upon the track, resulting even in great loss of life, this feature would seem imperiously to re- commend itself for adoption to all managers of railroads who 9 Qg CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. have it not already, and who feel a deep and lively sense of (he important trust of human life committed to their hands. On the whole, I received a favorable impression of their man- agement of railroads, in France. Their construction is, doubtless, much after the English mode of building, — the English having been, till very recently, principally employed as engineers, and even workmen ; but both the construction in the more solid and lighter parts, and the management, are considerably modified by the French genius, and accordingly partake much of the grace and luxury of the national character. The cars stopped within the rich iron ballustrades of the station at Paris ; and in a moment, we were all in the spacious room of the octroi, awaiting the inspection by the officers, of our luggage. This, however, causes but slight delay, especially if you submit to the form required by law with polite acquiescence, and there are no circumstances to render you a suspected person. On my whole tour, I was never detained more than a moment from this cause, — the officer merely unlocking the valise, and casting a glance, for form's sake. All, however, do not escape so lightly. The quick and experienced eye of the officers easily distinguish the class of travellers who would be likely to need watching ; and, accordingly, some are subjected to a most thorough, and often ex- ceedingly mortifying search. I more than once witnessed, with feelings akin to commiseration, the cumbersome packages of women of the lower class, undergoing a most tumultuous exami nation, — the different parcels tumbled about, as if the officers were quite indifferent as to the feelings of the owner, and regard- less of her right of property. And I may observe, that while the French government officers are almost invariably polite to the last degree, to those termed gentlemen and lady passengers, they may often be seen ti eating females of the lower classes, in their ARRIVAL AT PARIS. 99 }flicial duties, as if not particularly inspired with a true and deli- cate regard for the sex. The examination over, I was soon in the city, strolling leisurely a-foot, the better to enjoy undistracted, the profound yet delightful sensations of being really in Paris, so long a bright image of my imagination. What indescribable emotions I felt, as I joined the sweeping throng in the immense and densely-populated capital ! What wonders of art were soon to break upon my enraptured gaze ! Everything around evinced a marked superiority in exact accordance with the unrivalled reputation of the place. The streets were wider and cleaner, the edifices loftier, and more grand and beautiful, than is met with in the provincial towns. Even the persons in the streets, in their costume, gait, and general air, par- took of the pervading character, exhibiting a polish of manner, and an easy and elevated style of movement, not elsewhere to be seen. A few rods from the depot, I came to the Hotel du Havre. As I entered, a neatly dressed and agreeably-mannered female do- mestic accosted me in bland and insinuating tones, then seized my portmanteau, and led the way up a broad stairway of marble, and, in the most pleasing manner imaginable, showed me the several unoccupied rooms of the hotel. With a delicacy of politeness peculiar to the French, she did not assign me a rank of style which was natural, by the humble manner that I entered the house, by showing me only the less expensive rooms, but took me at first into the grand apartments. Some of them were indeed magnificent enough to satisfy a fastidious taste. Their wide di- mensions disclosed a gorgeous array of Brussels carpetings, sump- tuous ottomans, and sofas richly carved, and gilded ceiling, and magnificently rich damask and silk hangings. I made choice of a humble and cozy room — a niche merely, compared to some of 100 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. the apartments — for thirty francs per month, with light, fuel, and attendance extra. I was to take it for a month, provided I found the situation of the hotel in a favorable part of the city for my studies. After purchasing a guide-book for three and a half francs, which the concierge of the house told me was at least twice as much as it was worth, I spent the remainder of the evening in it3 perusal. The morning broke upon my expectant thoughts, with inspiring effect. My first thoughts were turned, of course, towards the post- office, where, I fondly anticipated, were awaiting me letters from home. By consulting duly the intelligible plan of Paris, which I had purchased and examined carefully the evening before, I found the place readily, and without inquiring even for once. But, O how bitter the disappointment ! I now perceived that my lodgings were in an unfavorable part of the city for my purpose, and that I should do well to remove my locale to the south of the Seine, in the students' quarter. Pas- sing from Rue J. J. Jacques, I entered- the magnificent square of the Louvre, the sumptuous and varied architecture of which, nearly bewildered me with delight. In a moment, the grand and beautiful view along the quays of the Seine, was revealed. Pas- sing down Rue de Seine, I found a comfortable room, on moderate terms, at Madam David's, No. 57 bis. I was quite delighted at the appearance and manner of my new landlady. She was a fine specimen of the class termed grisettes, who combine an assembled charm, as difficult to describe, as it would be to paint the hues of the rainbow. Her fascinating manners were the perfection of delicacy and grace. While contemplating her in animated con- versation with another, it was less difficult to imagine the wonder- ful spell of the famed Cleopatra. Arrangements completed with Madame D., I returned to Hotel SCENE WITH A LANDLADY. 1Q1 du Havre, in order to remove to my new quarters. On ringing my bell, a maid appeared, and politely requested me to descend, and arrange my account with Madame of the hotel. I was ush- ered into a spacious and elegantly furnished room, on the story below. A lady of genteel figure and dress, was reclining upon a sofa. She immediately arose, and awaited my commands without speaking. She was tall, clad in full black, and bore a sedate and thoughtful expression. On asking for my bill, she promptly re- plied in a subdued tone, but with a business-like precision and air, that it would be sixteen and a-half francs. I observed, in reply, that Madame was doubtless unaware that I had occupied the room but one night. She immediately answered in a tone and manner of independence of feeling, shaded, indeed, by her inimitable grace of manner, that by a rule of the establishment, gentlemen, on securing a room for a month, and then leaving it after one or a few days, were expected to pay the hire of half a month. I re- marked again, that my engagement was conditional. She promptly showed me the book in which my name was registered, against the number of my room, for a month. I called her attention to the fact, that the writing was done by another person, and not by myself, and requested that she would call the concierge with whom I stipulated for the hire of the room, to verify the accuracy of my original statement. The woman appeared, and, amid some em- barrassment of manner, and the serpentine language of duplicity, gave evidence that she could not fully remember just how it was, but it was clearly her opinion, that Monsieur had engaged the room for one month, as she could never have made so egregious a mistake in registering his name ; whereupon, Madame turned toward me with a triumphant air, and perceiving my resolution unshaken, called a male concierge, and in an imperious tone, or- dered him to take possession of my luggage, until I should see fit 9* 102 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. to come to terms. I thrust the fellow away, who was making a little too free with me, and walking up to Madame, tendered hei five francs for my lodging, — distinctly intimating to her, that on receiving further indignity in her house, I would call in a police officer. This had the desired effect. She promptly handed me my passport, took the piece of money, and allowed me to depart, graciously bidding me adieu, as if nothing had happened. The record of the incident may be serviceable to other travellers. In respect to the passport mentioned in the above paragraph, it may be well to add further, that on engaging rooms in an interior city or town, in France, you deliver your passport to the landlord of the house, who deposits it in a public office, where a transcript synopsis is taken of it, and the original returned to you. As this passport contains, besides a certificate of citizenship, some descrip- tion of your person, this arrangement is not only very convenient in enabling a stranger to trace out the domicile of a friend 01 countryman happening to be in the city at the same time, — which he can easily do, by applying to the proper authorities ; but it af fords ready means to the government of knowing always how many strangers are in the city^ and furnishes efficient means of ferreting out the authors or perpetrators of crime. It is a little annoying to travellers ; but there is no doubt that it contributes essentially to the order and tranquillity of European society. On arriving at the hotel, I found my room in a pleasant state of readiness, with a glowing coal fire in the grate to cheer me, while Madame David with her amenities of manner, contributed to the hospitable feeling of home. CHAPTER XI. gJIOPPING IN PARIS — FASCINATING MANNERS OF THE SHOP- WOMEN — BEAUTIFUL APPEARANCE OF THE STREETS — FASH- IONS DIFFERENT IN PARIS, LONDON, AND NEW YORK — NAPOLEON COLUMN — GARDEN OF THE TUILLIERIES — LIBRARY OF ST. GENEVIEVE THE IMPORTANCE OF SOME DEFINITE PLAN OF OBSERVATION. The first business on the morrow was, to replenish my ward- robe, now the worse for the journey thither. Madame was pleased" to offer me cards of address to clothing stores, with useful advice in regard to purchasing to advantage ; but although I felt obliged to her for the favor, I waived it, preferring to trust to chance for any good fortune I might meet with in the line of purchase. I purposely spent the entire day in selecting the required habili- ments, in order to get a clearer view of the features of Parisian shopping. The keepers were all extremely civil and obliging, ever betraying a delicate charm of manner perfectly delightful. As you enter the store, you gracefully raise the hat, and salute the lady or gentleman within, which is returned in a polite, but not obsequious manner. The goods are shown you without stint or reserve, but you are not directly urged to purchase, — although the qualities of the articles, their newness, fitness, and such lika other points, become very naturally the theme of an easy conver sation, in which not rarely a suggestion is elicited that is fully ca! culated gently to draw you in for the purchase. The whole i'air^ 104 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. is managed with infinite tact. You feel yourself perfectly at lib- erty to leave without buying, and yet you are conscious of touch- ing a golden woof whose delicate threads draw you to the interests of the seller. You are not held fast by the powers of persuasion, nor are you made to feel, that failing to purchase, you would vio late any rule of propriety ; and yet an eloquent tongue within, pleads for the claims of so much politeness. These remarks ap- ply without abatement in their force, to the Paris shopkeepers in general ; but they have a special application to the fair shopwomen who, indeed, form the larger part in the trade. Whether these are selected for their greater personal attractions and superiority of address, I cannot say ; but certain it is, that they appear the more effulgent gems in that sparkling brilliant, Parisian woman. It would be difficult, I fancy, for an American to enter a shop kept by one of these latter, and engage in a purchase, without feeling at once his purse-strings loose, under the force of her inimitable charms of manner. Her perfect neatness of person, the exquisite mode and taste of her entire dress, the blandness and grace of her manner, prepossess you at once ; but when her liquid, silvery tones, modulated in soft, graceful cadences, with an accent at once harmonious and inspiring, glide upon your ear, you are taken captive, and make your purchases, without a very clear perception of the relation of your finances to the absolute need you have of the articles you are purchasing. But what if the female in ques tion chance to be a fine specimen of one of those exquisites of the sex, termed grisettes? In that case, you may as well remain at home, if you are fully determined on not purchasing ; for any attempt to control your will in the premises, would most certainly prove abortive. It were a futile effort to paint exactly this exotic species of woman in France. The most subtle genius might well despair of the attempt. To image forth a picture possessing truly PLEASING MANNERS OF SHOP WOMEN. 105 the cognizable features of the original, would require more than the immortal pencil of a Raphael, dipped in the sublimated hues of nature. Simplicity, apparent artlessness, grace, and a certain tenderness, heightened by a tone and accent sweet and liquid, are so happily blended, as to remind you of the facile harmony of the spheres, and of a freshness, to bring to mind the carolling of the matin songster, as he pours forth his mellow, gushing notes, on the dewy spray, while all nature breathes incense to the depth and melody of the artless song. The shops in Paris, as I have already said, are, in general, kept by females ; but I observed that the clothing-stores, or those for male attire, were most commonly attended by gentlemen, or at least you are waited on by such, when making fits to your person. This struck me as being worthy of note, in a city where the strug- gle for pecuniary existence is so intense, as continually to threaten to ingulf in the vortex of human strife all the primary elements of innate propriety, — and where society is on so easy footing as to leave the utmost freedom to female demeanor. It only serves to add, however, further proof of the modesty of French women, of all classes, which, in their dress and manner, has been ad- miringly spoken of by travellers. On leaving, you politely bow to madame, bidding her a pleasant day, which she returns with perfect grace and good-nature, and this, too, on her part, whether you have purchased articles of her, or not. This admirable trait of the Parisian shopwomen is not a little remarkable. I cannot imagine that their imper- turbable blandness is always heartfelt, but it is ever, neverthe- less, pleasingly admirable, and it serves to show to what point the social elements of character may be disciplined. I must con- fess, that I rarely left a shop myself without buying something, however small the purchase ; but I often witnessed the French 106 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD themselves, after occasioning a deal of lost time and inconvenience to madame in showing them the different articles in her shop, l eave — receiving the same sweet and courteous adieu from the woman, as if they had purchased half the goods in her shop. In- deed, I have one case in point, fresh in my mind. While standing one day at the counter of one of those little open shops, frequently to be met with in the cross-streets of the city, and arranging for a purchase, a gentleman stepped up, and as he seemed somewhat in haste, I made a movement aside, yielding him the exclusive atten- tion of the charming shop woman. He was dressed superbly, and bore an air and style of manners that bespoke him one of the ex- quisites of the city. He handled over the different articles, find- ing fault with every object he examined, — one being too small, another too large, this too dear, that of inferior quality, — until the unwearied woman had shown him half the things in her store, which she did with the greatest readiness and patience, — when the rather pompous Parisian went away without deigning to leave a single sou of his money with the woman, to console her for the infinite pains she had been put to. He had the courtesy, however, on going away, to bestow a fine bow, and a most classically mould- ed valediction, while the woman returned an apparently cordial and graceful pleasant-day, her countenance and manner betraying not the slightest indication of the chagrin, not to say smothered indig- nation, which she must have inwardly felt at such annoying treatment. The graceful attractions and winning manner of the Parisian shopkeepers, render shopping in Paris most delightful ; and the effect of such amenity of manners, must be favorable to the social character of the city. It is quite needless to add, that the various articles in the shops are arranged with infinite taste, and so presented as to show to the STYLE OF DRESS IN PARIS. 107 Dest advantage ; for all this we should expect in a city in" which style is carried to so high a point as in Paris ; — but in some of the streets, the shop-windows display a degree of luxury, costliness, and magnificence, scarcely to be conceived of by those who have not looked in upon them; and the articles are exhibited in so sump- tuous and alluring a shape as quite to captivate the most fas- tidious taste. To a person possessing but a moderate degree of the sense of the beautiful in art, a stroll through some of the wide and clean streets of the city, with leisure to gaze in upon the magnificent array of costliness, could not but prove a luxury in its way. He would seem to realize the golden days of Persian splendor, and half fancy that the entire wealth and taste of the broad earth were concentrated within the limits of the queen-city. The quality of style in the dress of the Parisians is beyond praise. In combining grace, lightness, and warmth, their garments are unrivalled. To be sure, Paris sets the fashions for the world ; and the various other great capitals are in the monthly, I might say, weekly receipt of the latest Parisian mode, which is obsequiously copied and immediately transmitted to the smaller cities, towns and villages throughout the length and breadth of the entire civilized world ; so that the grand city becomes the emporium of fashion for all civilized nations, — the fountain-head of the in- finity of the streams of fashion that extend through the varied fabric of universal society. Still, the Parisian mode is quite dif- ferent in London or New- York, from what it is in Paris itself The reason f6r this is obvious. There is a philosophy aboui it. The genius of a nation may sometimes be seen even in what is commonly termed so trivial an affair as the cut of a coat. The form of a garment, aside from the standard mode, must be adapted to the style of the wearer, to have any pretensions to beauty 108 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. This principle is continually kept in view by the leading modists, who are not unfrequently persons of high intelligence and great purity of taste, in such matters. Thus a garment fashioned so as to be in perfect harmony with the light, graceful, and facile Parisian, would appear incongruously odd upon the person ol an unwieldy and sturdy Londoner. Before being in keeping with the latter, it must undergo, so to speak, a process of naturalization. In a word, it must be Anglicised. Hence, you never see the true Parisian fashion out of the capital. It is an indigenous plant, and cannot be transplanted without losing some of the distinctive features of the original. Jan. 12th. I set off early in the morning with the view of calling upon the American minister, both to pay my respects to the hon- ored representative of our nation, in Paris, and to report myself as an American traveller, designing to tarry a few weeks in the city. Strangers, on their arrival, are expected thus to make them- selves known to the resident minister of their respective countries, and it may prove of advantage for them so to do. I took my directions from my guide-book. On my way thither, I passed the celebrated column of Napoleon, in the Place Vend- ome. From the summit of the grand pillar, a comprehensive panoramic view of the city and its environs may be had, and I could not resist the temptation to tarry here a moment, and gratify my intense curiosity to look down upon the world, in miniature, below. An old soldier, — in the wars of the Emperor, — gave me a lantern, and I ascended the column, by an interior winding staircase of one hundred and seventy-six steps. The view from the top is fine, although the monuments in the proximity are seen upon a line too horizontal to appear to the best advantage. As the eye sweeps the horizon, it embraces the numerous striking edifices, towers, and palaces, which adorn the capital, rising above COLUMN OF NAPOLEON. 109 a confused ocean of roofs and houses of all forms and sues, with all possible varieties of chimneys, pipes, and flues. In the dis- tance, the eye rests upon the village of Vincennes, with its chateau and forest ; and then, a little to the left, on a green- wooded hill, sloping towards the city, appear the tombs and monu- ments of Pere Lachaise, while to the north, you catch a view of the hills, which crowd upon the city in that direction. The reader may be more interested in learning the design of this splendid monument, and in attending to its description, though the account be meagre and imperfect. It was erected to commemorate the unparalleled victories of Napoleon, in the campaign of 1805, from the raising of the camp at Boulogne, to the battle of Austerlitz. Upon the capitol is inscribed, Monument erected to the Glory of the Grand Army, by Napoleon the Great, — and his series of heroic feats is sculptured in two hundred and seventy-six bass-reliefs, of which the subjects are engraved underneath, upon the cordon, rising in a spiral direction to the summit of the column. The column itself is of the Tuscan order, copied from Trajan's pillar at Rome, but of larger dimensions. It has an elevation of one hundred and thirty-five feet, and is surmounted by a colossal bronze statue of the emperor. The figure rests in an easy pos- ture upon the right foot, with the left free, and a little advanced. The costume is his ordinary military surtout and cocked hat. There is an air of dignity and decision in the attitude, and the countenance is steady and benignant, looking calmly down upon the capital, reminding you that Napoleon is still the master-spirit of France. The bass-reliefs, in bronze, with which it is covered, were made out of twelve hundred pieces of cannon taken from the Russians and Austrians ; and the ministers of these powerful na- tions, as they drive past in their splendid equipages, may well feel a momentary abasement, as they glance at the emblems which so 10 HO CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. forcibly remind them of the disgrace of their arms and humiliation of their power, by a series of victories unparalleled in the history of the world. On reaching the place designated in my guide as the residence of the American minister, I made further inquiries, and following the directions given, entered the office of the English ambassador. I was there politely told that I should find the American minis- ter's hotel on the south side of the Seine, near my own quarters. On my way home, I passed through the garden of the Tuileries. It would require many pages to give a detailed description of this beautiful enclosure ; and then the picture thus made would be pale, indeed, compared with the original, — so entirely inadequate is language to convey any just notion to others of what corresponds to nothing in their experience with which to form a comparison. The garden is in the form of a parallelogram, and comprises an enclosed space of sixty-seven acres. It was projected by Louis IV, and laid out by the celebrated Le Notre, whose genius is strikingly displayed in the wonderful harmony with which he com- bined the varied elements and details of this delectable spot. The ground is laid out in broad and neat walks, and angular beds, of different size and pattern, variegated with trees, shrubbery and flowers of the choicest varieties. Beautiful circular basins, of dif- ferent sizes, are pleasingly interspersed. They are ornamented with elaborate fountains, from which leap forth the waters of the Seine, gleaming ever and anon in the soft sunshine, and then fall- ing in subdued spray upon the placid bosom of the water below. Fishes from China lazily part the limpid water beneath ; while upon its mirrored surface float, majestically, cygnets of the color of alabaster, and as tame as the visitors that view them. The whole space is profusely ornamented with antiques, statues, and vases, thus adding to (he other delightful features of the place LIBRARY OF ST. GENEVIEVE. m the very grateful and elevating charm of classical association. The whole space is completely filled ; every point being actually appropriated, — and yet amid the immense number and variety of objects almost crowding the entire enclosure, there is such a simplicity of arrangement, and symmetry of proportion, as to relieve all monotony. Every object is so precisely in its place, and such exquisite harmony pervades the entire effect, that /tie eye is entirely satisfied, and can desire nothing more beautiful, majestic, or perfect, either in the whole, or in any of its details. The garden is open to the public, and is the favorite resort of the Parisian, as well as of strangers. It adjoins the palace on the north, and must appear delightfully pleasing from the windows of the Chateau. Even the fastidious taste of royalty could but be gratified in embracing its infinite beauties. Spent the evening most satisfactorily in the room of the vene- rable library of St. Genevieve. It is not so large as some other public libraries in Paris, containing only about one hundred and ten thousand volumes, and two thousand manuscripts ; but on ac- count of its convenient proximity to the rooms in which are given the lectures comprising the public course, it is much frequented, especially by the students attending these lectures. The library is open, and entirely free to the public, on every day, I think, ex- cept Sunday, from ten to three during the day, and in the evening from six to ten. So great is the eagerness, by the habitual stu- dents to this library-resort, to improve to the utmost the golden moments, that there was usually a throng before the entrance, at least fifteen minutes before the time of opening the doors. To prevent annoyance, they were required to stand in file, in a nar row passage formed by the wall of the building and a wooden railing. This, the French significantly term, making the queue. While waiting with half impatience, and an uneasiness of body 112 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. arising from the cold, an occasional pleasant jeu d? esprit would be let off by some mirthful fellow, in whom the mercury had fallen so low as to disengage a latent spark from his mental crucible. The vivid scintillation would be sure to ignite the closely-pressed train of embodied spiritualities, by the keenly susceptible force of sympa- thy, — when the vivid flashes of wit and humor, passing rapidly from one to another, acting with suffused glow of effect upon all minds, would, for the moment at least, completely dissipate the tediousness of the delay. The French students are certainly pointedly and wittily keen. The ammonia of their volatile spirits falls with a peculiar pungency, when vehicled by their pre- cise, clear, and dulcet language. Students have a tendency to the witty. The drill and discipline they are undergoing, sharpen the mind, and impart to it a clearness and vividness for comparison, which render some little innocent indulgence in that way, almost indispensable. Thus, while stand- ing en queue, I was more than once irresistibly provoked to a laugh, by a sure-directed pun, perpetrated against some passer-by of the humbler sort. Occasionally there would be a retort so keen, as to show that in all such encounters, there are blows to receive, as well as blows to give. The door opens. Instantly the head of the column disappears , you find yourself in movement, and soon pass through the wide entrance leading into the library-room. As you pass the portly huissier, or door-keeper, who stands gaily decked with the insignia of his office, you bestow in turn your deferential salute, which he receives with the pompous dignity of a grand seigneur. The long hall comprising the interior of the library-room, has a table running its entire length, around which the company hastily but noiselessly seat themselves. In a moment, all is profound silence, as if the mortal spirits present had been borne off by those of the LIBRARY OF ST. GENEVIEVE. H3 departed dead, into realms of pure abstraction. The room is well lighted ; and, on the table before you, which is covered with green baize, are writing materials amply provided for your convenience. A number of librarians, whose business it is to keep the immense number of volumes conveniently arranged, and to assist you to any book you may be pleased to call for, may be observed with a sedate and thoughtful air, gliding noiselessly around in the differ- ent parts of the room, pleasurably intent in their grateful duties. These gentlemen are always approachable, give you prompt and explicit attention, and in their whole intercourse with you, evince a classic ease of manner, and a polished tone of mental expres- sion, in pleasing harmony with the spiritual grandeur of the place. The collection in this library is so judiciously made, that you would rarely be disappointed in finding a book to aid you in the investi- gation of a particular theme, although there might be several other persons present, reading in different volumes upon the same subject. It was easy to observe that the entire company present were no listless readers, seeking to while away the time in mental relaxation. They appeared rather greedily to devour the rich and abounding mental feast before them, and to cling to the pass- ing moments, as if each came laden with the momentous interest of success in life's career. Many were law and medical students, who were reading in connection with the public course of lecture* they were attending, — and this previous investigation of the sub- ject, could not but prove an excellent preparation to appreciate more fully the lecture of the professor, — while the subject, clearly and fully illustrated in the lecture-room, through the inspiring tones of the living teacher, must needs awaken a strong and dur- able interest in the student, for thorough investigation on collateral subjects. Added to this, the wringing examination at the close of the course, which decides whether the candidate is to receive the 10* 114 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. approbation of the University, and be sent out into the world \viti» the commendatory honors of the highest authority in the worl£, or be rejected, to pass a life of private mortification, or to make 2 renewed struggle for the diploma, by a year or two of intense ap- plication, must lend additional motives for the highest effort in the power of man. At an early hour in the evening, a door leading to a room in the second story was thrown open, when there would be something of a rush to share the privilege of the books in the reserved de- partment ; but I did not learn the particular advantage of the ar- rangement. I spent much of my time, the first week in Paris, in this de- lightful place. The wilderness of engrossing objects which breaks upon the mind of the traveller, with almost bewildering effect, when he first takes up his abode in the magnificent city, makes some definite plan of observation absolutely indispensable, if he would use the time to the best advantage. I accordingly spent much of the first week in Paris in studying the plan of the city, in tracing its history, in making a mental survey of the various institutions and objects of prominent interest, and in settling upon a scheme for the examination of these, that would use the limited time of my stay to the best advantage. Nor was the week thus spent misappropriated. It rendered fruitful the remaining timr in a high degree, and had the effect to crowd hours into minutes It is, perhaps, not too much to say, that if a stranger in Paris has but four weeks to tarry there, and would learn the most that it is possible to do in that time, that he might profitably spend the first week in reconnoitring the ground, and laying the plan of ar- rangement. CHAPTER XII. LETTERS FROM HOME — THE EFFECT OF CONTEMPLATING ARIGHT NOBLE PUBLIC EDIFICES BOARDING SCHOOL PU- PILS OUT ON PROMENADE — ARC DE TRIOMPH DE l'eTOILE MINISTER OF PUBLIC INSTRUCTION IN PARIS — CIMETIERE DU PERE LACHAISE, THE PARIS OF CEMETERIES VICE REC- TOR AT THE SARBONNE — PANTHEON DESCRIPTION. Jan. 1 Qth. It being the Sabbath, I determined to spend a por- tion of the day in a stroll through parts of the city, to view some of the public edifices and works of art. Not finding it convenient to attend religious worship, this course for the employment of my time very naturally suggested itself, as being somewhat akin to the spirit of religious adoration, and by no means a very indiffer- ent substitute for ritual ceremonies. I felt, with how much truth I know not, that it would be no sacrilege of the day, leisurely to contemplate these sublime creations of man's genius, and yield to the elevation of thought and depth of sentiment which they are sure to inspire. From such high thoughts, it was natural to turn to loftier, and to be solemnly impressed with the Infinite Power that could thus breathe into humble mortals conceptions so grand, and powers of execution so wonderful, as these monuments imply. My first course was to the post-office, where, with a longing heart, I hoped to find letters from home. Intelligence from absent friends, and dear ones, is among the sweetest joys of life. But when the endeared notes are conveyed in the tender missive, 116 CKESTS FROM THE OCEAN WORLD. freshly breathing the holy incense of the heart's purest affection, the joy is greatly heightened. Nor is the delight less, when the happy recipient is a traveller, separated from the world of his heart's affections by many miles of dreary, pathless ocean, and the human beings by which he is surrounded can claim no relation to his sympathies, either from the past or the future. Letters from home are to the traveller in Europe the golden chain which binds him to what of life is most dear. They keep vivid the flame upon the heart's altar, and quicken the susceptibilities for the en- joyment of the beautiful around. Their power is tri-fold, — first, he glows in fond anticipation ; then, he devours the sentences which unseal the fountain-spring of affection ; afterwards, he lives upon the placid sea of pleasant memories. But it is with emotions of painful solicitude that you approach the letter-office. The chances of your fate balance in the mind. Hope, fear, intensely glowing anticipation, and a shrinking dread of ill-news, by turns take possession of your soul, and subject it to the agitation of a tempest-tost sea. Does a letter await you, or are you destined to meet a disappointment so bitter as to en- kindle within you feelings almost of ill-will at the cruel neglect of your friends ? If a letter, what tidings will it bring? — cheering news, and balmy sympathy, or intelligence to rive your heart, and shroud the mind in the gloom of utter dejection ? I turned away from the office with feelings that may be im- agined by the reader, at the disappointment of not finding a letter. Strolling along, until reaching the north-western limit of the city, I then crossed the Seine at that point, and returned home quite fatigued with the pedestrian tour. The promenade formed a cir- cuit of several miles. In the course, I took a glimpse of the Palais du Louvre, Palais Royal, Chateau de Tuileries, Place de la Concord, Champs Elysees, Champ de Mars, and Arc de Tri- PUBLIC EDIFICES. H7 omphedel'Etoile. The contemplation of these grand and mag- nificent edifices cannot but exalt the sentiments. They appeal with force to the reflection, to the imagination. Erected by the genius of man, they are surviving and durable monuments at once of his power and his weakness ; of his transitory stay upon earth, and his power to reproduce and perpetuate himself through endless time. The millions that were employed in pro- ducing these splendid works of art, are now, it is true, mingled with the dust which compose the earth upon which the edifices stand ; still, their spirits live, as truly and effectually in these monuments as if now moving in their clayey tenements, amid the vast waves of humanity that ceaselessly surge the bosom of this great city. When we consider the large amount of human energy which these costly buildings must have absorbed, and the toil and deprivation they must have wrung from the depressed masses, the question may naturally arise, whether this large expenditure of the sinew of life can be justified. They are noble and beautiful objects, it will be admitted ; but has the highest good of the great- est number been advanced by their erection ? Judged by the ele- vated standard of humanity, have they really furthered the sum of human happiness ? This question, I may not attempt to an- swer ; but a thought or two in the connection may not be inappro- priate. If the good of human life consists solely in what a man eats and drinks, then the motives which led to the construction of these edifices cannot be justified ; for it is easy to perceive that the vast amount of labor required in their erection, might have been otherwise employed to augment, not a little, the sum of the comforts or luxuries of animal existence. But if life is spiritual, — if the highest form of existence is in the most elevated and noble thoughts, — if grandeur of soul, purity of taste, and depth of sentiment, constitute the essential of human enjoyment here 118 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. below, then the question assumes a somewhat different aspect. Taking this view, it would be really difficult to measure their in- fluence for good. No one possessing the least susceptibility to the appreciation of the noble and beautiful, can gaze upon them in a right disposition of mind, without feeling conscious of their influ- ence in exalting and ennobling his being. They open his soul to impressions of the grand and lovely, and he leaves with a cast of thought that will tinge his character in all the future. As ho mingles in the ocean of human life, his each act, however slightly exalted by an enlarged soul, multiplied by the acts of a lifetime; will make an aggregate of salutary influence quite incalculable. Let the increased power thus derived for a nobler life, of one in- dividual, be multiplied by the thousands of travellers who daily contemplate these buildings, and who bear away their impressions to be diffused like genial sunshine over the remote corners of th6 world, and we have a still further view of their usefulness. It cannot be doubted that these edifices constitute one of several means which continually operate, silently it is true, but effectually, to elevate the Parisian to that spirituality of mind, and polish of style, which compensate much for the grosser aliment of life. The power, too, of these edifices is continual. They act like the ceaseless hand of time. Not only will millions of the present generation of men catch inspirations from the fervor of their mute eloquence, but the uncounted millions of mankind in all fu- ture time, will successively look up to these magnificent monu- ments, and thereby receive an exaltation of soul that shall purify, and bless, for good. In the day's walk, I met several times, schools issuing from their half-prison walls, for an airing. They were pupils of pri- vate boarding establishments, of which there are numbers in Paris. Some that I encountered, were schools of boys, others of PUBLIC AND PRIVATE SCHOOLS. 119 firls. The boys were uniformly attired in a rather stiff costume, prescribed by the rules of their respective establishments- They marched in file, under the direction of their teachers, with a pre- cision of gait and primness of manner, that would remind you of eoldiers on drill, rather than bounding schoolboys, letting off in wild and irregular explosions the pent-up gasses of a week's con- finement. The schools of misses that I met, were less stiffly decked, but they were paraded in the same lifeless style. There was none of the excess of youthful life and joyousness, brimming the eye, radiating the cheek, and giving an elasticity of movement so natural and lovely in persons of their age. None of the merry, ringing laugh, the artless, playful manner, the free gushing from the pure heart's fountain, which so gladdens the beholder, and quickens his sentiment of existence. The advantages m Paris for pursuing a course of study, are preeminently superior; and the private schools, surrounded as they are by the vast and magnificent collections in the several de- partments of science, natural history, and art, and all entirely free to the students, must present strong attractions to pupils from the provinces ; still I could not but regard all these glorious privi- leges — and most certainly they are so — as being purchased at a price by no means trivial, when losing the free and invigorating air, and the animating sports of country freedom. I tarried also a brief hour, to contemplate the splendid monu- ment of the Arc de Triomphe de VEtoile, and to revel in the mag- nificent view afforded from its summit. The situation of this grand edifice could not have been better chosen. It stand? upon the highest ground within the Paris basin, and can be seen from all quarters within and without, by the long avenues that terminate upon it. Its effect is the most imposing, perhaps, on approaching it from the garden of the Tuilenes. You emerge from the grove 120 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. ©f the garden into the magnificent Place de la Concorde, and Jbrough which your way is uninterrupted to the Avenue des Champs Elysees, along which you proceed between its stately for- ests of a mile in length, to the Triumphal Arch at its extremity. The ground gradually rises towards the edifice ; and when first seen through the vista of the long and wide avenue, it springs upon the mind in a startling but pleasing manner. Indeed, Art and Nature have conspired to give it a happy location, and it is conceded to be far the most stupendous structure of the kind ever erected, either in ancient or modern times. Its cost exceeded the enormous sum of nine millions of francs. The Arch was originally projected by Napoleon, after the bril- liant campaign of 1805, in which at the head of one hundred and sixty thousand men, in the short space of three months, he van- quished the splendid armies of Austria and Russia, and humbled the pride of those imperious powers ; and it is designed to com- memorate those gigantic achievements. Suspended at the Resto- ration, the work was resumed in 1823, but with an entirely differ- ent destination from its original. Charles X. would finish none of the monuments and public works commenced by Napoleon. In- deed he preferred rather the destruction of those already existing ; so that this monument was to be finished in honor of the victories of the Due d' Angouleme in Spain. The revolution of 1830, when Charles was driven from the throne, frustrated this design, and Louis Phillippe, who succeeded him, animated by his love of the fine arts, and with his usual sagacity, caused the edifice to be com- pleted after the original plan, and to be made a grand national work — a work worthy of the genius and glory of its founder. It was finished in 1836. It consists of a single arch ninety-six feet in height, forty-eight feet in width, and seventy-three feet in depth, and of two small transverse arches. The whole structure is one AKC DE TRIOMPHE. 121 hundred and sixty-two feet in height, one hundred and forty-seven in length, and seventy-three feet in depth. It has numerous colossal groups of sculpture, depicting most of the grand battles gained by the French in the revolutionary war. It stands quite separate from the other buildings, affording an opportunity to be seen to the best advantage. The monument is a lit emblem of the grand and magnificent character of its founder. It will serve to keep alive in the nation- al heart the profound sentiment felt for the genius, splendid talents, And unparalleled achievements of the great captain. It will serve continually to encircle his name with a halo of light so resplendent and enduring, as to shine with undiminished brilliancy through succeeding generations of men. The peasant, as he looks up to this monument, will have revived in his breast the history of the glorious acts of the national prowess ; his soul will expand with glowing recollections, and his sentiment of life, his love of nation- ality, his pride of country will be keener, fuller. I would not be thought to encourage a spirit of war, and if Napoleon had no fur- ther claims to our admiration than as having been a warrior of transcendent genius, little might be said in favor of a monument to perpetuate the glory of his name ; but he stands before us as a scholar, statesman, legislator, of consummate ability ; as a man who was ever alive to whatever there was of the beautiful, noble, sub- lime, either in nature or art, and whose profound genius was ever active, in the intervals of the engrossing duties of the eminent sta- tion in which fortune had placed him, to increase the greatness and glory of his country. This edifice will stand then to kindle animating recollections whose influence will develop much of the great and generous in human character. In the evening, I received a letter from the Minister of Public Instruction in Paris, in which I was made welcome to visit the 11 122 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. public schools and institutions of the city and Versailles. The letter advised me to address myself to the Vice-Rector of the University of Paris at the Sorbonne, to whom the minister had given orders to facilitate my entrance into such institutions as 1 might desire to visit. I had called a few days before at the office of the public minister, but not finding him within, I left my re- quest with his secretary, who received me with due politeness, in- spected my letters, and promised me, with the utmost cordiality, all necessary assistance. Perceiving that I hesitated a little in speaking, he, either to relieve my embarrassment or to try his ability at speaking English, commenced attempting to converse with me in my own language ; but with all due humility, I must say that I did not conceive that he mended the matter a great deal. Although it was evident he possessed a fine education, yet he succeeded quite indifferently to express himself in the English. The minister of public instruction ranks equal with the ministers of state, and takes the title of Grand Master of the University. He has in his department the University, the Institute, the Acad- emies, and learned societies, the establishment of public in- struction, the libraries, the museums, and scientific collections. The University of France is composed of twenty-seven Acad- emies, governed each by a rector. • Jan. 22d. It being the Christian Sabbath, after attending Divine worship in the morning, I made a visit to the famous cemetery, Pere Lachaise ; - — no spot could have been better fit- ted to awaken feelings in harmony with the religious character o/ the day. The wide avenue leading to the entrance of this city of tombs, was lined, on either side, with undertakers' shops, sadly displaying ready-made coffins, wreaths of evergreens, and other lugubrious emblems of the departed. This introductory scene was indeed A GROUP OF MOURNERS. 123 striking ; but it was by no means congenial to the feelings. It constituted a ghastly portal to. the beautiful edifice within. Proceeding along before me was a hearse, with a small train of attendants and mourners. The humble procession, with slow and saddened movement, entered the spacious enclosure of the ceme- tery, and halted before a narrow and unpretending grave, in that part of the vast enclosure appropriated to the burial of the poor. The space thus set off is situated at the foot of the slope, upon which are the adorned grounds for the more fortunate classes, and comprises a large area, as it needs must, to hold the million poor. It furnishes room for interment, however, only to the citizens of five, out of the twelve municipal arrondissements of Paris. The ground here is flat, unadorned, and unvariegated. Not a slab marks the limits of the graves, which are ranged in rows as if the object were to crowd into the space as many bodies as possible. This bare and desolate aspect serves, however, to render more marked the beauty of the grounds further on. The undertaker and his assistant now pulled with a rude hand the unpainted coffin out of the rough vehicle, — thrust it uncere- moniously into the shallow grave, then tumbled upon it the frozen dirt in a manner as devoid of feeling as of sentiment. They were evidently fully accustomed to the thing. The repetition of the act had completely effaced from their souls whatever of awe or sympathy such scenes naturally inspire. What induration of the human heart, that can be so easily deprived of those susceptibilities glowingly implanted there by the hand of nature ! How sad, that the stern duties of life should ever blunt the tender sensibilities of the soul ! Quite a different scene was presented by the little group of mourners standing by the grave. A man bowed with years, a woman of nearly the same age, and a young man and girl who 124 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. resembled each other enough to be a brother and a sister, stood wringing their hands in mute agony. The bitterness of their spirit was but too clearly depicted on their thin features. They were meagrely clad, and their dwindled forms, wasted with penury and protracted toil, showed plainly that they belonged to the humblest class, and that their lot in life was, in consequence, surrounded with unremitting dreariness. But nothing had been able to dim the fires of their affection for the departed. These had evidently burned as intensely under the dampening influences of their depressed condition, as if fanned by the genial gales of easy life. Indeed, cast off from the distracting and weakening influences of a luxu- rious state, the natural tie of sympathy had been drawn all the closer, and deprived of the consolations of philosophy which edu- cation brings, their anguish was thus rendered the more intense. I now pursued my way slowly up the hill, between rows of tombs, beautifully shaded with trees, while the turf, green even at this season, addressed the eye most gratefully. From the little chapel on its summit, my eye rested for a moment on the dim spires and domes of the city, whose roar of life dwindled to a murmur. Forty thousand tombs and mausoleums, with their pyramids, obelisks, and urns, rising far and wide above the cypresses and cedars, re- vealed the extent of this splendid cemetery, — the finest of the Paris cemeteries, and perhaps of the world. No site near the city presents aspects more picturesque or varied ; no points of view more extensive, rich, or diversified. It is situated On the flank and summit of the most eastern of the hills overlooking Paris towards Charo?me, formerly called Mont-Louis. A sad feature in the picture, was the slope of the hill allotted to the poor, where countless numbers of black crosses came up in dismal array to embitter the sentiment of sweet melancholy that seizes one here. TOMBS AND MONUMENTS. 125 The grounds formerly belonged to a community of Jesuits, of whom Pere Lachaise, confessor of Louis XIV, was superior. It was converted into a cemetery by an order of Napoleon. Brong- uiart, to whom the arrangement of the grounds was intrusted, ac- complished his task with remarkable taste and skill. No one can wander through Pere Lachaise without being impressed with the truth, that no ordinary artist presided over its arrangements. The natural features that could be made subservient to the main de- sign, were retained. Cypresses are thickly interspersed amid the shrubbery, winding paths laid out in every direction ; and along their borders, and among the shrubbery, are endless varieties of flowers. These varied features of beauty and grandeur, so exten- sive and magnificent, while they breathe into the soul a solemn calm, elevate the sentiments and induce a frame of mind rather pleasurable than otherwise. The tombs and monuments display a great variety of taste and style. Many of them are pure, chaste, and appropriate ; while, of many others, not much can be said in their favor. Many of the tombs are miniature chapels, in which the survivors often worship. These may be often found furnished with chairs, crucifixes, lamps, tapers, etc. Flowers are generally kept planted around the tombs, or kept in vases and pots upon them, and regularly watered by persons employed for the purpose. Wreaths of evergreens, or immortelles, as the French call them, may be seen upon the tombs, placed there by the hand of affection ; and the number of these, and their freshness, afford indication of how the memory of the slumbering dead is cherished by their surviving friends. An interesting feature were the epitaphs and inscriptions upon the tombs. They were generally brief and appropriate, revealing some quality of the deceased, and many of them were exceedingly tender and beautiful. 11* 1 26 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. But the chief interest of Pere Lachaise is found in the gieai names that are inscribed on its monuments, — names that have agitated the world, and which the world will ever remember. There repose in the severe dignity of death the remains of such immortal spirits as La Place, La Fontaine, Moliere, Talma, De- lille, Holland, and a host of spirits equally distinguished, though perhaps not so well known to most American readers. There are, also, Lefebvre, Massena, Kellerman, Davoust, and Suchet, illus- trious marshals of France, and also — the spot enclosed with iron railing — of Ney, the " bravest of the brave." One of the most striking monuments is that of Abelard and Heloise, the ill-fated lovers, whose genius and misfortune have handed down their names to posterity. Its arched roof is sup- ported by fourteen columns, and under it is the figure of Abelard, in a recumbent posture, with the hands joined upon the breast, — and by his side, that of Heloise. The grass around the tomb was worn by the tread of pilgrims, and devoted hands had kept fresh the garlands above their marble effigies. The magnificent mausoleum of Madame Demidoff, is justly ad- mired, but not more so than the little tombstone of Madame Cot- tin, the spiritual author of Matilda. The tomb of La Place is an obelisk of white marble, sur- mounted by an urn, with the inscriptions, Mecanique Celeste — Systhne du Monde — Probabilitts. There is also a scroll sculp- tured with the sun and planets. Selecting an elevated site, I remained some time in a reclined posture, enrapt with the solemn beauty of the scene. Before me is the densely thronged city, stretching to illimitable view, and throbbing with intense life and animation ; while around me repose in solemn grandeur, the ashes of an innumerable company of de- parted spirits, who, but a little while ago, -were moving in all tb» SCHOOLS. - VICE-RECTOR. 127 pride and glory of life. There, the rays of the setting sun, soft- ened by the smoky atmosphere which rises from the bosom of the city, gleam from a thousand domes, spires and turrets ; here, the sighing zephyrs, as they pass along the dark foliage, imprint a saddened melancholy upon the rising emotions. I stand upon the border of two worlds, and the present real, and the future un- known, rise before the mind, — the one to the sense, in distinct outline, the other to the imagination, in shadowy, but pleasing form. Du Pere Lachaise is truly the Paris of Cemeteries. It partakes of the genius, the taste, and, I might say, of the vanity of the great Parisian world. I left the cemetery, as might be supposed, in a pensive mood ; and, after crossing the boulevard, which was thronged with people apparently in the happiest disposition, and the Barriere du Trone, a spot memorable for its affecting associations with other interest- ing parts of the city, I reached my room, not a little fatigued, where the evening was spent in meditative reading. Monday, Jan. 24th. Proceeded to the Sorbonne, the head quar- ters of the schools, to present my letter from the Minister of Pub- lic Instruction, to the Vice-Rector, and to receive from the latter further instructions to facilitate my visit to the schools. After some inquiry, I found the place, and was shown into the reception- room for strangers. Remaining here for some time, and the gen- tleman not appearing, I was invited to proceed further, — when, in traversing a hall, we accidentally encountered Monsieur the Vice-Rector, accompanied by another gentleman. He was passing hurriedly along, with both hands full of papers. After a word of explanation, he remembered the object of my visit, from the orders received of the Minister, and at once comprehended the scope of my design. Leading the way, he conducted me to a room, begged me to be seated, and then asked some frathsi questions, to 128 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. get precisely at what I wanted. Promising to send me at my lodgings a programme comprising a few of every grade of the schools, and such as would present the most interest to a stranger, I took my leave, well satisfied with the interview. Indeed, noth- ing could be more simple and affable than were his manner and conversation, — and they were such as to put you at once per- fectly at your ease. There was nothing of the imperious dignity which is often met with in officials, so appalling to a stranger, — and which, instead of conferring lustre on character, are only the index of a vain and narrow mind. He did not evince even the air and grace common to the French, and might as easily have been taken for an American as a Frenchman, — so thorough a leveller of character are science and literature. Scientific and literary men of all countries, resemble each other. The common world of thought, of sentiment, of feeling, in which they move, dissipates local differences, and assimilates them in character and manners. They each, by turns, attempted to speak in English ; but, it must be said, that they succeeded but poorly, — and yet I was assured that they were both distinguished scholars, and were, in the common acceptation of that term, familiar with the modern languages. But the truth is, that, with some exceptions, it is no easy matter for an adult to learn to speak a foreign language with idiomatic ease and accuracy, and it is particularly difficult in the case of the English in the mouth of a Frenchman. On my return, I looked into the splendid edifice of the Pan- theon. I had visited it more than once before, and went to see it many times after. There are some works of art of which a single view or examination will not satisfy the mind. The feeling which their presence awakens, is so ennobling and mild, as to beget a desire for the repetition of the pleasure. Of this kind, is the noble Pantheon. It is doubtless less rich and magnificent than THE PANTHEON AT PARIS. 129 several other public edifices in Paris, and has fewer historical as- sociations, and contains less works of art, to recommend it ; still, there were none that I visited oftener, or received more real plea- sure in beholding. As you gaze upon it, the mind is at once ele- vated, and an inspiration seizes you, that imparts a glowing exist- ence. The English critics observe that the structure is inferior in size and composition to St. Paul's in London, which is all very true ; still, to my uncultivated taste, the edifice is more pleasing and admirable. It is conceded to be a work of great merit, — the general proportions being fine, and possessing a rare degree of grace and elegance in the outline, as well as grandeur and sim plicity in the design. It stands on elevated ground, clear of other buildings, so as to be seen to good advantage ; and as you emerge from one of the narrow lanes of the twelfth arrondissement, the majestic portico breaks suddenly upon the view with splendid effect. It is composed of twenty-two fluted columns, each sixty feet in height, supporting a triangular pediment one hundred and twenty feet broad by twenty-four in width, in which is a sculp- tured composition, by David, representing the genius of France (a colossal figure fourteen feet in height), surrounded by the great men of the nation. On the frieze beneath is inscribed in gold let- ters : Au grands hommeSy la patrie reconnaissante. The plan of the church is a Greek, or equilateral cross, the exterior having no windows, and being ornamented only by a frieze and cornice. In the interior a gallery and colonnade line the nave and transepts on both sides, forming so many smaller naves and aisles. Semicircu- lar windows rise above the colonnades, throwing a strong light into all parts of the building. From the centre of the cross rises a dome two hundred and eighty-two feet in height, the lower part of which is encircled by a Corinthian peristyle of thirty -two col- umns, each thirty-six feet in height. The total length of the Pan* 130 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. # theon, including the portico, is three hundred and fifty-two feet j interior length, from east to west, two hundred and ninety-five feet ; length of transept, two hundred and sixty -five feet ; uniform breadth, one hundred and four feet. The edifice is in imitation of the Pantheon at Rome. As you enter, the mind is instantly impressed with the air of boldness, lightness, and grace, which ap- pears to pervade the entire interior. From this remark -must be abated the slight defect arising from the substitution of four grouped columns at the angles of the meeting of the transepts to support better the immense weight of the dome, instead of sepa- rate graceful ones ; and also for the substitution of four enormous pillars for twelve columns, in the second cupola ; but, by this means, the artist has succeeded in imparting to the edifice perfect solidity. Over the centre of the pavement of the church, rise three concentric domes, built one within the other. Through an opening in the lower one, perhaps twenty feet in diameter, may be seen a magnificent fresco-painting on the concave ceiling of the second, quite two hundred feet above the pavement. In the cen- tre of the dome, the sun himself seemed to send forth living pen- cils of light, illumining the entire pavilion. In the fullest blaze of light appears the name of God in Hebrew characters ; while in the midst of the rays, strongly illuminated, appears vividly the painting designed to represent the apotheosis of St. Genevieve, the patron saint of Paris, who was buried here in 512, in a church built on the spot by Clovis. This grand painting was executed by M. Gros, — and the genius of the artist has seized admirably the appropriate character for each personage of the group, which he has united in the immense painting. The Saint is placed in the most elevated spot of the composition, and is represented as a shepherdess dressed in white. Everything breathes a spirit of happiness and immortality. It is no longer a simple human being PAINTINGS IN THE PANTHEON. 131 that you see, but an air of celestial existence pervades. By hi?) side are small angels scattering flowers. The images of Louis XVI, of the queen of Louis XVII, break forth, surrounded with celestial glory. Underneath, the most illustrious princes of each dynasty are represented before the Saint. Clovis may be recog- nized as a savage hero, by traits fit for such a personage. The beauty of St. Clotilda is greatly to be admired. She is a queen whose holy aspect commands admiration and respect. The altars of paganism are falling before them. Charlemagne bears a lofty, heroic mien, and in his eyes, and even in his carriage, shines forth a genius which places him far in advance of his century. Angels are presenting the cross to the Saxons, who received the light of faith under his reign. Louis and queen Margaret of Florence are upon their knees, from whom beams forth a gentle piety. Near the king, are two standards of the cross, symbolizing the two cru- sades. Louis XVIII, and St. Genevieve complete the picture. This splendid work of art cannot be seen to advantage from the pavement of the church, but from the balcony around the superior edge of the first cupola, a distinct and beautiful view may be had. Besides the above painting, there are four allegorical paintings, on the pendentives of the dome, in the form of spherical triangles, over the corner of the nave. They represent France, Death, Justice, and Glory, embracing Napoleon. The effect of these is very impressive, but I shall attempt no description of them f There were, also, on exhibition in the Pantheon, copies of the distinguished paintings seen in the Vatican at Rome, entitled the Loges and Stanzas. As Time was making sad inroads upon these splendid paintings, in 1835 M. Thiers, then Prime Minister of France, conceived the noble idea of wresting the Loges from ob- livion, and having them to ornament the Pantheon. The work 132 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. was confided to Messrs. Paul and Raymond Baize, under the di rection of their master, M. Ingres. Later, in 1840, M. the Count du Chatel, Minister of the Interior, employed the same artists to make copies of the Stanzas. The artists completed their work, after twelve years of assiduous application. The Stanzas comprise eight large pictures. They are styled the frescos of Raphael, and were originally painted in the halls of the Vatican, under the direction of Pope Julius II. Some idea of these grand paintings may be obtained by an enu- meration of their subjects. They are entitled respectively: — Theology, or the Dispute of the Holy Sacrament ; Philosophy, or the School of Athens ; Poetry, or Parnassus ; The Mass of Balsena; The Burning of Bourg; St. Peter in Prison; Helio- dore driven from the Temple ; and, Attila repulsed by St. Leo. A full description of them cannot, of course, be attempted in this work. As a specimen, however, I will subjoin a brief account of the second in the series, viz : Philosophy, or the School of Athens. The place of the scene is upon the steps of a magnificent temple, whose beautiful proportions would alone suffice to prove that Ra- phael was an admirable architect, as well as a sublime painter Towards the top of the stairs, in the centre of the composition, are Aristotle and Plato, teaching philosophy in the midst of their disciples. Lower down, at the left, is Diogenes the cynic, care- lessly reclining upon the steps. On the other side, still lower down, is Archimedes, under the traits of Bramante, tracing a geometrical figure. Near Archimedes, in a kneeling posture, is the duke of Manton, the friend of Raphael. In other parts of the composition are, Zoroaster standing, holding in his han# a globe ; Raphael himself, with a black cap ; and le Perugin, his master. On the other side of the picture, towards the centre, is Euclid, in meditation, seated, and leaning upon his elbow. Higher TOMBS AND STATUES. 133 up, Socrates explaining to Alcibiades the theory of numbers. Below this group, Pythagoras, surrounded by his disciples. Be- hind, leaning against a pilaster, Epicurus, with his head crowned with leaves. The Loges, which form a continuation of fifty-two pictures, re- present the principal episodes of the Old Testament, since the creation of the world. The Birth of Jesus Christ, The Baptism, and The Lord's Supper, complete this series of composition. The originals of these, in fresco, are placed in the vaults of the galle- ries in the Vatican at Rome. The Pantheon is intended to be the "Westminster Abbey of France ; and in the vaults beneath the edifice, are the remains of the mighty dead. This will, indeed, be a fit resting-place. It is divided into small apartments, with arched roofs; and so nume- rous are they, as to be quite labyrinthian. Without a guide, one would find it difficult to make his way to them all, — and when fairly in, not easy to thread his way out. I passed down, in compa- ny with several others ; but we were hurried along so hastily, and the explanations made by the guide with such monotonous rapidity, as to convey little edification or delight. There were the sarcophagi of Rousseau and Voltaire, whose memory is cherished by the French, next to that of Napoleon. Over the tomb of Voltaire was his marble statue, bearing the same facetious expression as the one seen in Rouen. As I have observed before, there is something in the expression of this face, so spiritually sarcastic, and withal possessing an air of so much mockery, as to cause the beholder to shrink back with awe. Here, too, is the tomb of Soufflot, the architect of the church, who is said to have commit- ted suicide on learning the possibility that the edifice which stands over the catacombs, might fall in. The distinguished Lagrange also reposes here in the majesty of death. The bodies of some 12 134 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. are interred with their friends, while their hearts are deposited here in sculptured urns. In the afternoon, called at the office of the American consul. His secretary treated me with all due kindness, and stated that letters had been received for me ; but Mr. Balch, not knowing of me, after having detained them some time, and no one calling, had sent them back to the post-office. There is nothing gained, in general, in addressing letters to the care of the American consul, in Paris, — and it is a source of some annoyance to him. As the postage cannot be paid in advance, the letters which are sent to him, and are not called for, burden him with the expense of post- age, which is quite an item in France. Besides, letters would be just as safe in the post-office, and can be had at any time by call- ing for them. It is only necessary to say, post restante, when they will remain until called for ; otherwise, they may be sent to you rooms, and, by mistake, lost. CHAPTER XIII. PUBLIC SCHOOLS — MONSIEUR LEFEBVRE — ORDER AND PRECISION OF THE SCHOOL — CORPORAL PUNISHMENT PROHIBITED — MODE OF TEACHING THE ALPHABET — DRAWING — SINGING — ADVAN- TAGE OF THE SYSTEM — ITS DEFECTS — MUNICIPAL SCHOOL FRANCAIS — THE PRINCIPAL AND HIS PROFESSOR — PLAN OF THE SCHOOL — PREPARATORY DEPARTMENT — NOTRE DAME DE LORETTE. Having received the promised credentials from Mons. C , Vice-rector a. la Sorbonne, consisting of a list of such schools as it was thought would be most interesting to me, — with a letter of recommendation to the several directors and principals, and a general order for my free admission to such establishments as I might wish to inspect, I set off for the nearest school, indicated on my programme, that of Monsieur Lefebvre, situated in Rue du Bac. It is one of the Communal Schools of Mutual Instruction, for boys, and the tuition is free. It is composed of two hundred and forty pupils, between the ages of six and twelve, who are of the poorer classes of the Parisian population. They are taught here the elements of reading, writing, grammar, arithmetic, sing ing, and drawing. One master presides, assisted by a monitoi, and ten sub-monitors. The sub-monitors are selected from the advanced classes of the school, and officiate by turns, serving, often, not longer than one day at a time. The business of these latter is to drill the classes over whom they are placed ; in doing which ]3fi CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. they pursue a set and undeviating mode of procedure, as they had previously been taught by the principal, or director, as he is called. For this purpose the class of pupils that are to officiate as moni- tors for the day, meet with the principal in the morning, from eight to ten o'clock, before the assembling of the school. The room, which is on the second story, is of convenient size, and quite comfortable, being high in the walls, well open to the light, and amply provided with means of ventilation, although possessing no claim to superior beauty or elegance. It is duly furnished with black-boards, and the walls are hung with maps and cards, on which are traced geometrical diagrams. Plates, on which are engraved brief, but appropriate maxims and moral sentiments, are also suspended from the walls. I noticed several, quoted from the writings of our own Washington and Franklin, — names scarcely less revered in France than in the United States. The seats and forms were of a length to admit some dozen pupils at each, with room to pass behind. They are graduated in height to the size of the pupils, who are seated in them in strict con- formity to this condition. The school, when thus seated, presents a beautifully uniform aspect. The principal gives no particular instruction, himself, in the school-room ; his business being rather to superintend the general government of the school, and give direction to the changes of the classes. Sitting in his chair, with a tin whistle he directs the movement of the school with as much ease and precision as an engineer would a steam-engine. The discipline in respect to order, was wellnigh perfect ; the pupils passing through their school evolutions and changes with a promptness, precision, and concert of movement, really inspiring to the visitor, and which would remind you of the mechanical exactness of the drill of Prussian soldiery. To show with what ease Mr. Lefebvre ruled his little world, I CORPORAL PUXIS1IMENT PIIOH BITED TO TEACHERS. 13~ might mention, that during the entire day that I spent at his school, he sat by my side, conversing freely, while not the least embarrassment could be observed in the exercises of the school. The spacious room, occupying the entire dimension of the edi- fice, upon the ground-floor, directly underneath the school-room, is very appropriately assigned as a baggage and store-room, where the pupils, on arriving at school in the morning, deposit their out- door clothing and noon-luncheon, and, also, as a comfortable resort for shelter and recreation at noon or during intermissions. Two long seats were arranged quite around the room, next to the wall, for the children to sit on while partaking of their collation, while the remainder of the space was left entire for free movement. Hooks were fastened in the walls, and numbered with mechanical exactness, for clothing and dinner paniers. Corporal punishment was never resorted to, it being, in fact, prohibited by the government, in all the schools under its control. Not only is the rod and ferule, as instruments of punishment, ban- ished entirely from the school-room, but all other modes of physical suffering are forbidden, — such as cuffing, pinching, un- natural and painful postures of the body, imprisoning, and what- ever else would tend to deform the body, excite the passions, or sour the disposition. Incorrigible pupils, as a last resort, are ex- pelled from the school by the local committee. Among other modes of punishment practised, to secure order and obedience, as a penalty, the pupil is made to stand face to the wall, with hands behind, and suspended around his neck a badge, marked naughty, or some such term of reproach. He is sometimes required to re- main after school, or lose a merit-mark, or subjected to such kinds of penalties, which, according to circumstances, would be suggested to the ingenuity of any teacher. Rewards are resorted to, to inspire emulation. The pupil who 12* 138 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. misses in his recitation, is put down ; and the one who is found at the head, at the close of the exercise, receives the reward, — which consists, for the time, of a small piece of pasteboard marked "prize." After having received a certain number of these, they are exchanged for a certificate ; and a certain number of these other, are exchanged for a book, or some other appropriate and valuable token of merit. To secure punctuality, recourse is had to a system of demerits, and petty deprivations ; and if this gentle means is not sufficient to correct the evil, a printed note of inquiry is sent to the parent, asking an explanation of the delinquency ; but parents are not imprisoned, as it is stated they are in Prussia, for non-attendance of their children. Mr. Lefebvre informed me that there is a difference of opinion among practical educators, in regard to the point so long mooted with us, — whether, in teaching the alphabet, the letters should be learned separately, and then combined in syllables and words ; or, whether whole words should be first taught, and afterwards ana- lyzed, or resolved into their elements. Many teachers practise both methods simultaneously; and all educators concur in the opinion, that the sounds or powers of the letters should ^either be taught before their names, or in connection with them. It should be observed, by way of explanation, that the orthoepy of the French, as well as that of the modern languages of Europe gene- rally, is much more regular than that of the English, — so that spelling words by the sounds of the letters, instead of their names, would be more natural and successful with those languages, than with ours. In this school, the names of the letters were first given to the pupil, and afterwards their different powers or sounds. Arithmetic was taught much in the same manner as with us. In ■eaching reading, cards, on which were printed in large, plain type, METHOD OF TEACHING IN FRANCE. 139 the several elements of discourse, from a letter to a paragraph, were made use of. The monitor points to the letter, or word, and the class, either separately, or in concert, give the element or com- bination, and then it is analyzed. Pupils practise the first rudiments of writing, by means of slate and pencil. The scholars remain in their seats, each with a slate and pencil in hand, and eyes fixed upon the card before the class, upon which has been written, by the monitor, the lesson to be imitated by the pupils. When all is ready, the monitor commences by reading to the class, in an audible manner, and with distinct utterance, the word to be copied. Then, at a signal, the first division make the copy, in a deliberate manner, and with all due pains-taking. The other divisions follow the same mode. The exercise is of an hour's length. Drawing is here taught principally by means of the black- board. The teacher, or monitor, who is of course a proficient in the branch himself, makes the copy to be imitated, adapting it in character to the average capacity and stage of advancement of the class. The pupils then set themselves earnestly to work, ani- mated, evidently, by a healthy emulation, each to make a more perfect copy than' his neighbor. Before commencing the exercise, the teacher gives some general description of the picture, both tc impart a clearer visual conception of its character to the class, and to interest them in its subject, — while during the continuance of the exercise, he frequently calls attention to particular features, sometimes giving explicit directions to be faithfully observed. 1 noticed, however, a class composed of older pupils, practising from cards on the forms before them. The principal is required by law, to impart to the school moral and religious instruction. For this purpose, the Bible is used in the school, although the Old Testament part of it is excluded. In 140 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. the first exercise in the morning, the whole school go through with prayers, which consists of a brief form which they repeat me- chanically, and in a monotonous manner, each division in concert, after their several monitors ; and, at the closing exercise in the afternoon, they make some signs connected with the mysteries of their religion, which is followed by singing in Latin a verse, — of the meaning of which, the teacher told me they were completely ignorant. Besides these exercises, they repair in company to the church, two or three times a week, where they receive from a priest instruction in the Catholic catechism, with such moral in- struction in addition, as is thought befitting. The order of the school was admirable, although I observed several pupils cry during the day. There was no whispering, clandestine communication, nor unnecessary movement, nor noise. Everything in this line moved with the utmost precision, prompti- tude, and regularity. A sentiment of mutual respect, and reve- rence for the teacher, seemed to pervade the school, very grateful to the feelings of the cursory visitor. Industry and assiduity were visible among all the pupils. The calisthenics, with which the exercises were interspersed, had the happy effect of relieving the monotony of the school exercises, and imparting animation to the pupils. The singing was really inspiring. Every pupil joined the exercise with readiest ease, and engaged in it with evident enthusiasm ; and it is by no means easy to judge of the effect of two hundred and forty juvenile voices in a single room, burst- ing upon the ear with their sweet, silvery, joyful melody, with the most exact movement of time, in excellent tune, and with wonderful blending of voices. The charm was really magic-like, and for the moment you are carried away into a region of blissful emotions. The compensation of teachers for this class of schools, in the SCHOOLS OF MUTUAL INSTRUCTION. 141 city of Paris, is from three hundred to four hundred dollars per annum. They have, besides, opportunity to increase this sum, by teaching evening schools, or in engaging in any other pursuit for which their talents qualify them. Mr. Lefebvre had been engaged in teaching, twenty years ; and in the present school, eight years ; and yet he evinced all the vi- vacity and enthusiasm of youth. This is the more surprising, as he was engaged in teaching from six in the morning till eleven in the evening, — having private classes, and being employed to teach in one of the evening schools for adults. It should be ob- served, however, that his duties in school are much less arduous than with those teachers who, in addition to government, have to instruct classes. He received me with the utmost politeness of manner, and with true cordiality and frankness, — spared no pains to show me all around, and give me such information as he had in his power. This school was pointed out to me by Monsieur le Vice-Rector a la Sorbonne, as the best of the eleven schools of mutual instruc- tion in the city, which were established in 1815 by Messrs. Martin and Froissard. The plan is copied after the Lancastrian schools in England, and their success is spoken of in high terms of praise by the authorities in charge of the matter. Undoubtedly, this system of mutual instruction is carried in these schools to a good degree of perfection, — and in the matter of pecuniary economy, there is much to recommend it. Only one master of moderate attainments is required for a school of from two hundred to three hundred pupils. Besides, so perfect is the system, and so exactly is it followed, even in its minutest details, aside from obtaining con- siderable elementary knowledge in the branches, they necessarily contract valuable habits of order, economy, punctuality, obedience, and respect for superiors. Still, no philosophical educator will 142 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. fail to perceive that the system is incapable of affording the high- est form of instruction, or imparting the fullest development to mind. Education can never fulfil its high mission, unless the teacher can command time to become familiar with each individual mind under his care, and to adapt his mode of teaching to its pe- culiarities. This idea is fully carried out in the more liberal and enlightened institutions of Europe, in many of which there is a teacher for every eight or ten pupils. Jan. 27th. Made a visit to the Municipal School Frangais 1, Rue de Blanche. On presenting myself at the gate, which opens into the court, the porter took my letters to Mr. Goubeau, the Di- rector of the establishment. The latter gentleman, handsomely dressed, rather portly in person, and with a business air, received me with perfect courtesy and cordiality, and at once entered into lively conversation, communicating in the most rapid manner imaginable, items of information concerning the school. His enunciation was so distinct, and the tones of his voice so clear, that I understood readily nearly all he uttered ; but in a few mo- ments, he begged to take the liberty to introduce to me his professor in the English language, who would be most happy to give me such information as I might desire, and to show me over the establishment. The latter gentleman soon appeared, and went on in the same hurried manner, detailing the plan and arrange- ments of the institution, comparing it with similar institutions in Germany and England, in which countries he had himself jour- neyed, — and, in fine, developing to my mental view the compre- hensive and complicated system of schools in Paris. But his pro- nunciation was so indistinct, and his utterance so hurried, that I but partially understood him, and more than once reminded him of his being the teacher of English, and that I was able to under- stand that language somewhat better than the French. At last MUNICIPAL SCHOOL. 143 he plainly told me, that although professor of the English lan- guage, and having travelled in England, still he never attempted to speak the language. I could hardly make myself believe that a professor of one of the best and most distinguished schools of Paris, could be wanting in the very branch to which his entire time was devoted. But, perhaps, the eminence even of his posi- tion made him fearful of attempting to express himself in a lan- guage, which he could hardly have done without making some mistakes. It being Thursday, there was no afternoon session of the school, so that I was not able to witness recitations, — but an inspection of the rooms, premises, apparatus, with full and minute explana- tions, in regard to everything there, enabled me to get a tolerably good idea of the institution. The school was founded by the city, in 1844, and is under the supervision of a board of six distinguished literary or scientific, gentlemen. The professors and associate masters are chosen by the administration of the school. The institution is designed to occupy a medium rank, between the more common private semi- naries, and the University of France. It affords superior facili- ties for acquiring a very thorough and extensive practical educa- tion, for the various avocations of life, including the pursuit of teaching. Indeed, in regard to the latter point, the professor of English very deliberately informed me, that the school had been more successful, even than the best Normal schools, in sending out accomplished and efficient teachers of public and private schools, and even Academies. The institution corresponds to those schools which have been in existence for fifteen years in almost all the German states, and which are there styled Real Schools. The course occupies six years, one class graduating every year, and the instruction, except 144 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. "in those branches based upon the ancient languages, is considered complete. The student is advanced to a higher class only after a most rigid examination, and his qualifications having been con- firmed by the board. The examination for admission to the freshman class, requires the applicant to be tolerably familiar with reading, writing, the elements of orthography, the first notions of geography, Sacred history, and the ground-rules of arithmetic in whole numbers and decimals. The pupil must also be able to write with sufficient ability to take notes without hesitation, and to follow readily a dictation. The course of instruction comprises the study of the French grammar, the French language and its writers ; the English, Ger- man, Italian, and Spanish languages ; history and geography in all their branches ; computation ; arithmetic, with its applications; geometry, algebra, accounts, cosmography, zoology, husbandry, bot- any, geology, mineralogy, natural philosophy, chemistry, industrial mechanics; the study of first materials; technology, linear-drawing, ornamental drawing, carpentry, architecture, laying of plans, per- spective, drafting, construction, and singing. At the request of pa- rents, languages not comprised in the course are taught their chil- dren by private instructors. This course will appear the more exten- sive, when it is considered that many of the branches are taught by professors who have made a distinct branch an exclusive subject of investigation for many years, and who thus having a most thorough and extensive knowledge of the subject, have facilities for illustrating the details of the study. The studies are so arranged, that the pupil who should be com- pelled to leave before having completed the course, will have re- ceived a knowledge of the fundamental principles, around which it will be comparatively easy to gather dependent acquisition. SCHOOL REGULATIONS. 145 For the benefit of such applicants, as are not able to pass an examination for admission to the freshman class, there is estab- lished a preparatory department. Both boarders and day-scholars are admitted. The school is formed into two divisions; the smaller college with pupils thirteen years and upwards ; and the larger college, with those who have not attained the age of thirteen. The dormitories and study-rooms of the divisions are entirely separate, as well as meals and recreations. The religious direction of the school is confined to M. L ' Abbe, Duncel, curate, or vicar of Notre Dame de Lorette ; while M., the pastor Coquerel, gives instruction every week to the protestant pupils. The medical counsel of the schools is composed of four dis- tinguished physicians. Every three months the parent of the student receives a cer- tificate of the conduct and progress of the latter, with remarks from each member of the faculty. Besides this, each pupil is re- quired to transcribe into his journal the register of his standing, in regard to scholarship, conduct and moral character, as given him by the professors, which is to be inspected and signed by his parents or guardians, on their days of visit to the school. Pupils who have not applied themselves satisfactorily to their studies during the term, are required to study during the vacation. The pupil before being admitted must present a certificate, first, of his birth ; second, of his vaccination ; third, of his good con- duct, if he has ever attended another school. Pupils are required to be in their rooms as early as nine o'clock in the evening. They are permitted to receive visits o»ly from their parents, correspondents, and persons allowed by their parents or by the faculty of the school. 13 4 46 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD Parents are requested to leave in the hands of their children no valuable trinket, or spending-money. The pupil must bring n they were guarding, with a sentiment of deep and pious reverence, the ashes of the sublime spirit who had been removed from his Bea-girt prison to repose in the bosom of his own French people. From the Hotel des Invalids, I went to the Military School. It was founded in 1751, by Louis XV, as an establishment of educa- tion, for the gratuitous instruction of five hundred poor gentlemen, the sons of deceased officers. They receive here, of course, a military education, and are especially trained in the spirited and graceful accomplishment of horsemanship. Its form is that of a parallelogram, occupying an area of fifteen hundred feet in length, and eight hundred in width, and comprises six buildings, and fifteen courts and gardens. In the dome, crowning the edifice, is a clock supported by two figures, Time and Astronomy. There is also, in the establishment, an observatory. The Champ de Mars is a vast parallelogram of two thousand eight hundred and fifty feet in length, or more than half a mile ; and nine hundred and sixty-nine feet in width ; extending from the Military School to the banks of the Seine. The level surface is broken by no trees or shrubbery. It has served various pur- poses, and the spot brings up to the mind familiar with the history of Paris, some thrilling incidents in its eventful periods. It has not only been employed for the exercise and review of the pupils of the school, and the National Guards of the city, but it has served, at different times, for public fetes, and political gatherings. In the stormy days of the old revolution, it was the scene of many midnight orgies, as well as the rendezvous of many a foul plot, or demoniac machination. Here the first mayor of Paris lost his head, and other dark deeds of blood shade the memory of the place. KINDNESS OF A FRUIT- WOMAN. 165 It is now used by the pupils of the school as a race-course, and for grand reviews. On my return, becoming embarrassed as to my route, I made inquiries of a woman tending a fruit-stand, at the corner of two streets. The good-hearted creature, not satisfied with pointing out to me my way, left her little bazaar with a lad, and actually accom- panied me at least a quarter of a mile, that I might be the moi , *» sure of finding my place of destination. The pleasure of con- ferring a favor seemed to lend a glow and vivacity to her nature, and she chatted upon all subjects with the utmost simplicity and animation, evincing not unfrequently a degree of intelligence and discrimination far above her condition in life. Her kindness, natural manner, and spirituality of expression quite charmed me , but her familiarity, in any other than a French woman, might have been misconstrued. "While referring to the great number of strangers in Paris, she suddenly turned the question by saying, f But, sir, of what country are you, may I ask ? " You can, of course, very easily divine, replied I. Fixing a full, but placid look upon me for a moment, she suddenly burst out in a kind of good-natured petulance, declaring with emphasis, that I was really inexplicable, — that I certainly had the accent of an Englishman, but the unmistakable features of an Italian. This woman was not at all singular in her manner, for a Paris- ian. The traits of character she displayed were such as are com- mon among the female populace. The stranger does not meet here with that affectation and reserve often found elsewhere ; on the contrary, all is simple, natural, and cordial. All the women among the lower orders of Paris, whom my business furnished a pretext to address (and I took particular pains to get the greatest possible number of examples), evinced, without a single exception, the same easy and unaffected style in their intercourse. They 166 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. would always enter into the very spirit of my demand with promptness, ardor, and apparent disinterestedness, and would even take special pains not only to furnish me with all the information in their power, about what I wished, but to render me such further aid as was possible. And this complaisance did not seem to arise from a calculated habit, or even from formal politeness, but ap- peared to spring from a natural spontaneity of goodness. If the conversation became discursive, she would roam with me, with great naturalness and vivacity of manner, broaching any subject, treating it with perfect freedom, and never failing to impart to it a peculiarly lively interest from the brilliant hues of her own mind. The different postures and movements of the body, and the expression of the countenance, were all free, open, and in keeping with the intellectual character. An American, accus- tomed to the staid, and almost prudish, deportment of his own fair countrywomen, is at first confounded at a style of manners so different ; but he cannot help but. be in the main highly pleased with the change, and the new feature will be sure to improve upon acquaintance. The truth is, we cannot but love even the semblance of truthfulness and simplicity ; and nowhere are these traits so fascinating as in woman. I am not certain, how- ever, but that this freedom of manner would not more easily expose the female to rudeness with the unmannerly of the rougher sex, and that it would not tend to weaken the barriers which sur- round what is most lovely in woman. Modesty is, indeed, the priceless gem in the brilliants of woman's character, and we are wont to show the estimation in which we hold the valuable pearl, by hedging it in with what we call by different names, — such as prudent reserve, becoming dignity, unobtrusiveness, etc.; but whether what is thus saved can compensate for what is lost by the degenerating of these qualities into a stiff, prim, and cold TRAITS OF FEMALE CHARACTER. 1(57 manner, lending a most uninteresting trait to the female character, I ao not know ; but every one will agree, who has been favored with some observation in this matter, that perfect delicacy oi modesty is often seen blended with simplicity, grace, and vivacity — each heightening and beautifying the other. CHAPTER XV. PALACE OF THE LOUVRE — FORMER RICHNESS IN ART — THE COMMON MIND A JUDGE OF ART — CHARACTERISTICS OF THE SEVERAL SCHOOLS OF PAINTERS — SUNDAY AT THE LOUVRE — INFLUENCE OF THE ART UPON THE MASSES — SCULPTURE, PETRIFIED BEAUTY — MARINE MUSEUM — ROYAL INSTITUTION FOR THE BLIND — BENEFITS OF THE NOBLE SCHOOL — PRO- FESSOR-LECTURER OF CHEMISTRY — GARDEN OF PLANTS — DESCRIPTION — ADULT AND JUVENILE EVENING SCHOOLS. The Palace of the Louvre, a magnificent edifice, the origin of which is unknown, was rebuilt from the ruins upon the spot, in 1528, by Francis I, who ordered Peter Lescot to construct for him a palace worthy of a king of France, and of the century in which he lived. It was enlarged and improved by subsequent sovereigns, when Louis XIV, wishing to unite it with the Tuiie- ries, invited the most skilful architects of Europe to furnish him with plans. None of the foreign nor the French architects who had accepted the invitation, were able to satisfy the luxurious monarch. The cavalier Bernin, the most famous architect of Italy, was then called to Paris, but he was not more successful. At length, the physician Claude Pernault proposed the present magnificent perystile, which is justly esteemed one of the most beautiful pieces of modern architecture. Its construction com- menced in 1666, and ended in 1670. The building is quadrangular, enclosing a court of some four hundred by five hundred feet, which is entered from the east by a PALACE OF THE LOUVRE. 1(39 n*T)le portal. This front, five hundred and twenty-five feet long, is adorned with twenty-eight double Corinthian columns, and is indeed a fine specimen of architecture. The other sides of the quadrangle, both within and without, though less elegant, are very striking, both from their extent and their style. In the middle of the court, rises upon a pedestal of white marble, ornamented with two bass-reliefs, the equestrian statue in bronze, of the Duke of Orleans, eldest son of the late king Louis Phillippe. The prince holds his sword in the attitude of command, and the general air is lofty and imposing. The Louvre was formerly a kingly residence, but is now devo- ted to the royal museum of painting and sculpture, forming one of the most extensive collections in Europe. During the latter years of the reign of Napoleon, this gallery was the richest and most magnificent by far of any that has ever existed. It could then boast of the c/iefs-d'ceuvres of Rome, Florence, and, in fact, of the greater part of continental Europe, carried off by the conquering legions of France ; but victory having deserted the eagles of Na- poleon, these treasures were restored to their former possessors, and the Louvre has now no longer to glory in the Apollo Belvi- dere, the Venus di Medici, and other matchless productions. Still, the collection is a very extensive and noble one, and will richly reward the lover of art, in a visit thither. Eighteen large halls on the ground-floor, are filled with pieces of sculpture, in- cluding the choicest treasures of the Villa-Borghese, and many works that once embellished ancient Rome. Many of them are esteemed of great value. Five other rooms in the basement story, ar<* devoted to the reception of works by modern artists. In 1830, a large apartment was filled with a collection of Egyptian antiquities ; and there is now a large gallery called the Musee de la Marine, or the Marine Museum, comprising models and sections 15 17G CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. of vessels, plans of forts, and other curiosities. The great picture gallery, which is on the first floor, is approached by a grand stair- case, painted by native artists, and comprises a suit of nine apart- ments, — the walls of which are lined with upwards of fifteen hundred pictures belonging to the French, Flemish, Dutch, Italian and Spanish schools of painting. The stranger at first saunters through these spacious and lofty rooms, with their richly frescoed ceiling, and amid such a profusion of the gems of art, in an en- tranced and bewildered state of mind. Intense anticipation now suddenly merged into the reality, the glowing associations of the place, the inspiring agencies by which he is everywhere so thickly surrounded, hurry away the soul to a region beyond the confines of earth, while the vast multitude of subjects which burst upon the mind, completely distract the attention. It is thus only after repeated visits to this world of paintings, and a degree of famili- arity with its entrancing scenery, that the mind becomes sufficiently composed to study advantageously the individual works of great artists, or to compare faithfully their distinctive merits. It would, of course, be presumptuous in any but artists, or professed ama- teurs, to speak with lengthened criticism of master-paintings, es- pecially such as are met w r ith in the noble collection of the Louvre. Yet, a novice in the sublime art, under the influence of natural emotions, and exercising the principles of common sense and com- mon observation, may venture to give the impressions which works of art make upon his mind, or indicate the emotions they give rise to in his breast If the end of painting is to move, to vivify thought, to excite emotion ; and if the success of a production is measured by the force and felicity with which it seizes and excites the mind of the beholder, then may not even the uneducated in art, venture to pass an opinion upon the more obvious and striking features of a PAINTINGS IN THE LOUVRE. 171 picture ? To be sure there will always be much about a painting beyond his powers of appreciation, — nice principles of science, exquisite touches of art, etc. ; still, if the subject be within his understanding, and the thoughts it is calculated to awaken, such as find a response in his breast, may he not conclude with some assur- ance in regard to the success of the artist, by the agreeable effect of the painting upon the mind ? The observer may not be able to analyze his sensations, or trace them to the spring of move- ment ; yet conscious of their possession, he will not doubt the power of the hand that gave them rise. This view may be illustrated by the peculiar nature of oratory. Here the speaker is deemed successful, in proportion as he carries conviction to the minds of his hearers, or moves their feelings ; while the latter judge of the power of the former by their emotions, without asking the cause. The auditors may not be able to enter into the minutiae of techni- cal grammar, rhetoric, figures of speech, or even analyze the dis- course ; still he judges, and at least with some general grounds of safety, of the merits of effort, by his own consciousness. It would be a futile effort to give a detailed account of the immense collection of the Louvre. A description, comprising the briefest account of each painting, would fill a large volume. With- out attempting, therefore, to enumerate the great works which are there to be met with, let me aim at only a delineation of the general character, by which the different schools of painting are distinguished. The first hall of the Louvre, in the picture gallery, is filled with paintings of the French school. The principal artists, whose works are here exhibited, are Nicholas Poussin, Claude Lorrain, Vernet, Le Brun, Gaspar, — and the modern painters, Gerard, David, Gros, Paul de Laroche, and Eugene Delacroix. The general character of the school of French historical painting, is !72 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. the expression of' passion and violent emotion. The coloring is for the most part brilliant ; the canvas crowded with figures, and the incident selected, such as would enable the painter to display, to the best advantage, his knowledge of the human frame, or the varied expression of the human countenance. The moment seized is uniformly that of the strongest and most violent passion; the principal actors in the piece are represented in a state of phrenzied exertion, and the whole anatomical knowledge of the artist is displayed in the endless contortions into which the human frame is thrown. The French paintings, therefore, although they may produce a striking or dazzling effect, at first, upon the mind, and may excite a degree of admiration ; still, they do not possess in the same degree as the master-pieces of some of the other schools, qualities which move deeply the feelings. The paintings of Poussin are distinguished for a classical ele- gance of style ; and those of Claude, for a perfection of coloring, which leaves nothing to be desired. Le Brun was the most dis- tinguished painter of the seventeenth century. His works were characterized by ease and breadth of composition, and for re- markable grace and sweetness. Vernet stands high among French artists. His sea-pieces are truly admirable, both for the drawing, and for the feeling with which they are painted. The room which contains his " Sea Ports of France," is not one of the least at- tractive of the Louvre. He painted from nature, and though the subjects he chose were not of a lofty kind, he has treated them with great simplicity and truth. His two pictures, Le Depart and Le Eetour are full of pathos and beauty ; but for grace, and charm of coloring, what can rival that, known as the " Broken Pitcher ? " The fresh, rosy, and beaming countenance of that young girl can never be recalled without pleasure ; nor is it pos- sible to pass, however hurriedly, through the great gallery of the DISTINGUISHED PAINTERS. 173 Louvre, without pausing for a moment, to smile back upon that lovely and ingenuous face, as it smiles upon you from the canvas. The paintings of Vernet, in this collection, are perhaps the finest specimens of that beautiful master. There is a delicacy of color- ing, a unity of design, and a harmony of expression in his works, which accord well with the simplicity of the subjects which his taste has selected, and the general effect which it was his object to produce. David was a distinguished painter, and the founder of a new school. Napoleon encouraged and liberally rewarded him. It was with the heroes of Greece and Rome that he covered his canvas; and the severe subjects he chose, he treated with charac- teristic sternness. To touch the softer emotions of the beholder, he never attempted. Gerard possessed, in a high degree, the art of coloring. His drawing, too, was generally correct and pure. His Cupid and Psyche are among his best pieces. The expression of the heads is charming; the coloring fresh, and agreeable, — and the attitudes extremely graceful. Gros is esteemed the greatest of the scholars of David. His portrait of Napoleon is much admired. The finest of his large paintings is the battle of Eylau. But the most important work of Gros, — because upon the largest scale, and in a public edifice, — is the Dome of the Pantheon, already mentioned in the descrip- tion of that splendid edifice. The death of this eminent artist, in 1835, was a most melancholy one. Overwhelmed with disap- pointment and chagrin, he put an end to his existence by throwing himself into the Seine. With him died the last painter of the time of the empire. Paul Delaroche was the son-in-law of Horace Yernet. His works are numerous. All the subjects have been taken from 15* 174 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN- WORLD. modern, and many from English history. Among the latter, are the Death Scene of Queen Elizabeth, — a forcible illustration of vanity and royalty struggling with old age and death ; the terrible and touching scene of the Murder of the Princes in the Tower ; Charles I. insulted by the Guards ; Strafford on his way to the scaffold ; and the truly pathetic scene of Lady Jane Grey upon the scaffold. But of all his works, the one the most admired, is his Saint Cecilia playing on an organ held before her by an angel. This was made after his return from Italy, where he had been sent by the government of Paris to execute some paintings for the Madeline, — and the painting partakes much of the character of the Florentine school. The calm and heavenly beauty of the saint, with the simplicity and grace of her drapery, throws around the work exceeding beauty. It shows, too, that the French are capable of expressing high delicacy of sentiment. Eugene Delacroix is a painter of great originality and powerful imagination ; his coloring is vigorous and effective. An admirable specimen of his talent may be seen in the gallery of the Luxem- bourg. It is his " Dante and Virgil, conducted by Flegias, crossing the lake which surrounds the infernal city of Dite.'^ Another is Cleopatra, the fair Egyptian queen. But his most important work is at the Chamber of Peers, where he painted the Cupola of the Library. You come next to the Dutch and Flemish school, which is dis- tinguished by a character of a different description. The well known object of this school was to present an exact and faithful imitation of Nature. They did not pretend to aim at the exhibi- tion of passion, or powerful emotion; nor was it their object to re- present deep scenes of sorrow or suffering which accord with profound feelings. They selected as subjects the ordinary scenes and occurrences of life ; and the power of the painter wa3 seen DISTINGUISHED PAINTERS. 175 iii the exactness of the imitation, and the minuteness of finishing. Of this class of painters, in particular, were Teniers, Ostade, and Gerard Dow. There is a very great collection here preserved of the justly celebrated Rembrandt. There are forty pieces of the Wouvermans here, all in a fine 6tate of preservation. The works of this artist are generally crowded with figures; his subjects are commonly battle-pieces, or spectacles of military pomp, or the animated scenes of the chase; and he seems to have exhausted all the efforts of his genius in the variety of incident and richness of execution which these subjects are fitted to afford. These paintings are certainly beauti- ful ; and it is almost impossible, without having seen them, to get an idea of the variety of design, the accuracy of drawing, or delicacy of finishing which distinguish his works from those of any other painter whatever. There is a large number of the paintings of Vandyke and Reubens. There are sixty pictures of the latter of these masters, in the Louvre ; and, combined with the celebrated gallery in the Luxembourg, they form the finest assemblage of them to be met with in the world. The character of his works differs essentially from that of both the French and Dutch school. He was em- ployed, for the most part, in designing great altar pieces for splen- did churches, or commemorating the glory of sovereigns in imperial galleries. The greatness of his genius rendered him fit to attempt the representation of the most complicated and difficult subjects. But in aiming to tell a whole story in the expression of a single picture, he attempts what it is impossible for painting to accom- plish. The endless power of creation which this splendid genius possessed, is seen in the multiplicity of figures which crowd the canvas. It is in the Italian school, however, that the collection of the 176 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. Louvre stands most unrivalled. The general object of this school appears to be the expression of passion. Their pieces are mostly of a religious character, in which are touchingly portrayed the sufferings and death of our Saviour, — the varied misfortunes to which his disciples were exposed, or the multiplied persecution which the early fathers had to sustain. They aim to awaken pity or sympathy in the spectator. There are a great many of the works of Dominichino, and of the Caraccis, in the collection. They bear a dark and gloomy character, and are designed to express deep and profound sorrow Guido Reni, Carlo Maritti, and Murillo, have a general charac- ter, but somewhat different from Dominichino and the Caraccis. They have limited themselves, in general, to the delineation of a single figure, or a small group, in which, by a subdued tone of coloring, are expressed emotions of a softer and more permanent kind. The distinctive feature in the small number of the paintings by Salvator Rosa, is a wild and original expression. In some of his pieces there is a sullen magnificence combined with splen- did ideality, which mark the profound poetical genius. But the softer expression of Correggio is quite different. Ten- derness and delicacy are his prevailing qualities, and there is a softness in his shading of the human form, which is entirely un- rivalled. He has represented nature in its most pleasing aspect, and enrobed individual figures with all the charms of ideal beauty. The single picture by Carlo Dolci, in the Louvre, is in itself a gem, and alone is sufficient to mark the genius of its author. It represents the Holy Family, with the Saviour asleep. The deli- cacy and softness of shading exceeds even Correggio himself, while there is a deep, spiritual beauty pervading the whole, beyond the power of language to describe. The sleep of the infant is per- FREE ACCESS TO THE LOUVRE. 177 fection itself; it is the deep and tranquil sleep of youth and inno- cence, subdued by a holy and angelic calm, unspeakably beautiful. The works of Raphael aim at the expression of a sublime feel- ing, and they possess a high tone of spirituality rarely reached by the efforts of other artists. In his larger pieces, as in the Trans- figuration, the effect is often injured by the confused expression of varied figures ; but in his smaller pictures, the genuine charac- ter of his transcendent genius fully appears. The Louvre is free to the public on Sundays, from ten a. m. till four p. m. It is likewise open to artists on week-days, between the same hours, and to strangers, on the presentation of their pass- ports. On Sundays, the halls never fail of being thronged with visit- ors. All classes may then be seen promiscuously sauntering through the splendid rooms. You will be jostled on one side by a fine lady, and on the other by a dusty workman in his dingy blouse and wooden shoes. The remark applies equally to other like places. Here, the humblest may have free access to the pub- lic gardens, palaces, buildings, repositories of art and science, — and the humblest make use of the munificent privilege. This having the grand and beautiful continually before them, has the sensible effect to elevate and refine their taste and manners, and to spiritualize their whole nature. Its influence upon their char- acter may be seen in the elegance of the dress of the Parisian, and in his polished and graceful manners. Its deeper influence lays the foundation for that ardent attachment to the institutions 2nd glory of France, which is the vital part of a Frenchman's character. On week-days, as I have already intimated, there were in the gallery of paintings, artists, either making complete copies of some >f the pictures upon the walls before them, or sketching off rr\gh 178 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. drafts, to be filled up at a future time, thousands of miles, perhaps, away. It was interesting to watch the expressive countenances of these young aspirants, in the difficult path of their art. On their faces varied emotions were, by turns, legible, according as, by a happy touch of their pencil, they had embodied a beautiful conception, or when the stubborn material refused to give forth the thought. The halls of sculpture are on the ground-floor. You experience a sudden elevation of feeling, as you contemplate these gems of heathen eloquence. Here remain in a fixed and eternal repose, the sublimest expression of human character. Petrified beauty perpetually beams from those divine forms, to animate and delight. You cannot but reverence the geniuses that could breathe so much life and grace into the inanimate marble ; that could give such expression to inert material, that nothing but breath seems want- ing. The fleshy roundness of those limbs, the ease and flow of that dress, with its delicate waving, partly clinging to the body, partly fluttering in the wind ; that delicate balance which alarms with the expectation of movement ; those inimitable features strip- ped of everything gross and earthly, and beaming with the most ce- lestial beauty, entrance the soul in a feeling of wonder and delight. In gazing upon these symbols of purified thought, we are re- minded of the Spartan prayer, " Give us what is good and what is beautiful." Indeed, beauty ever excites religious emotions. A marked difference between painting and sculpture is, that the latter, with the exception of a few pieces — such as the Dying Gladiator and the Laocoon, exclude all passion and even emotion, and represent the human mind in a state of tranquillity and re- pose. The figures seem to be more than mortals, and to indicate a state in which the unruffled repose of mind has moulded the features into the perfect expression of the mental character PAINTING AND SCULPTURE. J79 They seemed possessed of that permanent inward joy and love- liness which cast an everlasting sunshine and beauty around, — that radiance of immortal life which breathes an eternal happiness. Another difference between painting and sculpture, consists in the universality of the latter. It is completely divested of the peculiarity of the schools. The statues of antiquity were ad- dressed to the multitude of the people, and were intended to awaken devotion in all classes. They possess, in consequence, a general character, and speak directly to the common heart. Hence the admiration for this kind of art, which has survived the lapse of time. To communicate thought and emotion, the art of printing has long since 'taken the place, in a great measure, of painting and sculpture ; still, so long as a love of the beautiful exists in the human breast, these divine arts will continue to be cherished. They serve to embody thoughts which language has not power to utter ; they convey lessons of wisdom and virtue to the ignorant : and without their aid, many a noble deed or heroic act would hardly have reached posterity. I was much interested in the collection in the Musee de la Ma- rine. You there see drawings of ships, sails, masts, and every- thing connected with naval affairs. Besides, there are exquisite models of all forms of vessels, French and foreign, from the full- rigged ship down to the smallest craft, exhibiting the different kinds of naval architecture in every stage of the process of con- structing the vessel. The different improvements or changes that have been made from time to time, were here all curiously exhib- ited to view. Here, too, are models of the principal towns con- taining maritime arsenals ; and one can see L'Orient, Rochefort, and Brest, without the trouble of going there. There is in this museum , a fine series of busts of French naval commanders. 130 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN- W )RLD. The Louvre is the grand central point of art in France, and is, indeed, rich beyond conception. It stands out in relief from the numerous other collections in Paris and other parts of France, and, indeed, Continental Europe, like a sun, diffusing light and radiance. The numerous grand historical facts, the many touch- ing incidents, and the abundance of thoughts and ideas which are here displayed, and which may be daily read, constitute the Louvre a grand and splendid book, unexpressively rich in whatever ele- vates and refines the soul ; and its freedom of access to the masses of the people, cannot but render it an ever-acting and powerful means in forming the taste and giving complexion to the thought of the Parisian. On Wednesday, Feb. 2d, I visited some of the Primary Schools of the city. The Frere who conducted the first at which I called, received me with the kind and polite manner invariable with that remarkable religious community ; but as it was the day for reli- gious instruction, he pointed out to me another school near, of a similar grade, and sent one of his pupils to accompany me thither. There I remained the half day, unusually interested. The read- ing here was much better than in most of the other schools of this class, but still, enough defective. They went through a spelling exercise somewhat novel to me. The lesson consisted of printed sentences, which were dictated by the teacher, then written by the pupil, and afterwards spelled orally by the latter. In each lesson, some one principle of grammar was exemplified, and the word in which it occurred, was printed in italics. The pupil was required to state the reason for his choice of writing the word as he spelled it. The exercise struck me favorably, as being well calculated to lead the pupil gradually into the grammar and phi- losophy of the language, while he was gaining a practical knowl- edge of the form of words. The order in neither school was re« INSTITUTION FOR THE BLIND. ] $] markably good. The former consisted of two hund.ed pupils, with two teachers ; and the same in the latter. They were not conducted on the mutual-principle system. In the afternoon, I visited for the second time the Royal Insti- tution for the Blind. I was immediately admitted into the recep- tion-room, in which were several strangers in waiting, — and among them, an intelligent German traveller. The director of the establishment soon made his appearance, and immediately took us over the entire institution, explaining only when called upon, and then in a manner so quiet and taciturn, as to show that the exercise to him was a duty rather than a pleasure. He was not, however, permitted the indulgence of his disposition to silence, — for our German companion, who seemed to be particularly in quest of information, and pertinaciously bent on learning every- thing to be known about the school, with pencil and note-book in hand, plied the director so rapidly and constantly with questions, as to leave the latter barely time to take a long breath. All well- educated Germans speak the French language fluently, — and I was forcibly struck with the greater ease with which I understood the German than the Frenchman, owing, doubtless, to the more distinct utterance of the former, and to his native accent corres- ponding more nearly to the English than that of the French. Institutions had long existed for the employment of the blind ; but no effort seems to have been made for their instruction, until Hauy, of Paris attempted it, in 1781. The effort was crowned with complete success, and this unfortunate class of people are now taught reading, writing, and ciphering ; the mathematics, va- rious languages, geography, and music. In the last branch, they are particularly successful. The present edifice was recently put up, and is a noble and beautiful one, comprising the improvements in school-house archi- 16 # 182 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN- WORLD tecture and appointments. It contains two hundred pupils, of both sexes, who are permitted to remain eight years. Besides the branches, they are taught various mechanical employments, as a means of pecuniary support. We were interested in examining the different articles of handicraft, in the exhibition-room, made by the pupils, — and particularly, to witness them at work in the fabrication of articles, both useful and ornamental, in which they showed a degree of cleverness and skill really surprising to any one not aware how one sense may be made to take upon itself the natural use of another. Many of the more curious and elaborate of the finished pieces, that we examined, bore the most scrutinizing test that we could apply, and were, in every way, so far as we could judge, as neatly and perfectly finished as if made by the most accomplished artisans. We each, of course, purchased some little article to take away, as a memento of the noble and interest- ing school. We were shown the neat and beautiful chapel in which they are wont to assemble to express their feeble adoration and grati- tude to the Author of so many and tender mercies. We passed, also, into the Salle a manger or dining-room. It was ample, and \ displayed almost perfect neatness. The tables were of marble, and everything else was in the same costly, and substantial style, j Many, if not most of the teachers are graduates of the institution, thus proving that, in the opinion of the intelligent faculty which has the care of this eminent institution, the more gifted of the blind, when well instructed, are equally competent and successful teachers as the seeing. In the workshops, several laborers occupied the same room, and were permitted, in a moderate degree, the interchange of thought and sentiment ; but such as were practising their lessons in music were confined, each in a separate apartment; an arrangement EMPLOYMENT OF THE BLIND. 183 larorable to acquiring that concentration of mental power, and delicacy of perception so indispensable to reaching great excellence in the sublime art of music. We were permitted to peep into these narrow and imperfectly lighted practising rooms through a little glass window in the upper part of the door ; and we could not but be struck with the energy and apparent devotion with which they were practising upon the parts which had been assigned them as lessons. Apparently they could not have been more earnest if stimulated with the hope of winning, one day, the applause of the great world. Did such an idea enkindle their ardor ? or was it the more natural and immediate influence of that glorious princi- ple of the human mind, which loves to overcome difficulties, — heightened by the inspiring tones of the breathing instruments ? As we passed along by the rooms arranged consecutively on either side, the sounds from the different instruments, such as pianos, violins, flutes, etc., came rolling down the long and narrow aisle, in mingled and confused movement, it is true, — but they fell upon my own ear most gratefully, both as awakening pleasing recol- lections of delightful friends at home, of the same unfortunate class as the inmates of this school ; and as giving rise in my breast to thoughts of noble and generous pride at the splendid triumphs of human art, and the exhibition of God-like benevo- lence of which this institution is so grand and beautiful an illustra- tion. Those tones, drawn from humble instruments of mere mechanical contrivance, seemed to issue directly from the deep and living recesses of an inward world, — from a world of thought, of sentiment, of emotion, where gladsome spirits, cut off from the distracting beauties of external nature, were revelling in the am- brosial fields of a purely spiritual existence. And who shall con- fidently assert that the touching deprivation of the inmates of this school will, after all, prove to them a state of comparative greater 184 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN- WORLD. unhappiness ? Their case, viewed in connection with the grand principle of compensation which evidently runs through nature, — equalizing the real condition of mankind, — assumes an aspect more favorable to them. They are, indeed, separated from very many delightful sources of enjoyment from the world without, but may they not be compensated for this loss, at least in a great measure, by keener inner susceptibilities. They are certainly spared many scenes, which, while they rend with anguish the spirit, blunt the finer susceptibilities, as well as removed from much of low and obscene, to tarnish the purity of the soul ; and when with a duly cultivated moral and intellectual nature, they possess that source of light and beauty within, — that everlasting sunshine which can be thrown on everything around, till it reflects on them what has beamed from their own serene heart, and with- out which the gorgeous beauties of glorious nature are a meaning- less picture, and life, a plattitude of insipidities, — their condition may certainly be favorably compared with the generality of the human race. It is a point of opinion that hardly admits of doubt, that many a clear-sighted man would have his mental vision im- proved by spending some portion of his time in a retirement, in which the soul is driven back to observe its own operations, and seek improvement and enjoyment from its own resources. It would serve, like Crusoe's desolate island, to develop powers and elicit feelings of which he was not before conscious. The pupils whom we saw, were clean in person and neat in dress, and appeared cheerful and happy, showing that that agreea- ble state of the mind which philosophers call happiness, does not depend upon circumstances of life. I passed down into the basement-story under the edifice, in com- pany with the German companion, conducted by the fireman of the glocmy precincts, to see how the grand establishment was SCHOOL OF MEDIC'NE. 185 iieated, and supplied with warm water. Seven large furnaces were in constant and active operation, and the entire apparatus, which was minutely explained to us, seemed admirably adapted to the end for which it was arranged. Indeed, there seemed to have been spared no expense to impart to the entire establishment all the advantages which science, art, and benevolence could be- stow ; and I felt on leaving, an involuntary admiration for the en- larged benevolence of a people who could have first put in successful operation, and have ever since sustained so completely, so eminently a wise and humane institution. Feb. 3d. I made a visit to the school of Medicine, at the Sar- bonne. The lecture was on chemistry. I found the room, — which was circular, with seats gradually rising in an amphitheatri- eal form, — filled with students, a little impatient for the com- mencement of the lecture. There might have been an audience of six hundred. The professor, a middle-aged man, presently entered, with a brisk gait, and immediately commenced speaking. On his appearance, there was a momentary suppressed applause, when all was perfect stillness, which continued during the entire lecture, excepting when the professor indulged in a saillie d'humeur, when there would be a slight relaxation for a moment only, as all seemed disposed not to lose a word. The students remained cov- ered, and with their port-folios upon their knees, before them, were busily taking notes. A long counter before the lecturer was filled with glasses and various pieces of chemical appa- ratus, and elements for combination, while behind him stood a large frame in which slid up and down in grooves, and by means of pullies, black-boards arranged behind each other, upon which the eminent professor wrote his theory by means of symbols. He spoke without notes, in a fluent, easy, and graceful manner, and was evidently perfectly master of his subject. A slight steppiu g 16* 18(J CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. to and fro, with moderate gesticulation, gave a pleasing animation to his manner. He was attended with several assistants, who, disposed on either side of him, performed all the experiments. It was remarkable with what adroitness these manipulators per- formed their parts, managing to have the experiment come off in- variably, just in the nick of time. The professor would talk rapidly on, apparently without the slightest thought of the experi- menter, and at the time he would say " There, gentlemen, you perceive," and on the last word, the phenomenon would burst to view, just as if connected with it by the law of affinity. There was not a mistake ; no repeating, no blundering, and never a moment's hesitation. If it all had been guided by the most sys- tematic mechanism, it could not have been more exact and sure. Several gentlemen accompanied the professor, and remained seated by the side of him uncovered, — friends or acquaintances present, doubtless by invitation. The lecture I listened to, was one of a course of public lectures which come off here every winter, and which are entirely free to everybody. It is a single department of the school of Medicine, a branch of the University of Paris, the great central establishment of education in France. The number of regularly-entered students in medicine is upwards of two thousand, besides such as do not choose to be put upon the list. Examinations are publicly held four times a year, under four professors appointed by the Academic Council. The examination of each candidate must last at least one and a half hours, but may be protracted at the pleasure of the professors. All the higher degrees are granted only after severe trials, and numerous candi • dates are annually rejected. TOMBS AND STATUES. 187 GARDEN OF PLANTS. I left for the last time this noble enclosure. One at all gifted with an appreciation of Nature, and imbued in the least with the spirit of revelling amid its endless varieties and matchless perfec- tions, would wish to linger here forever. It is not only an exten- sive volume of animated nature, but it is a world of nature in miniature. It embraces a condensed view of the three kingdoms, Animal, Vegetable, and Mineral ; and so extensive is the collec- tion, that there is scarcely an individual species known in the three grand compartments of creation but that may not here be found ; and all so exactly classified and beautifully arranged, as to present almost at a single glance the wonderful and endless riches of the entire domain of fruitful Nature. It would be tedious to recount the history of this grand institu- tion, from its foundation by Louis XIII, in 1626, up to the present summit of perfection. The history of the men whose labors have enriched it, and whose names and statues adorn it, is the history of the natural sciences for the last two hundred years. Little did the monarch imagine when he doled out a few acres of useless land for a museum with only three professors, that he was prepar- ing a magnificent temple for the wonders of nature, — a temple destined to become not only one of the principal ornaments of the capital, but an honor to France and even the entire world. The garden, consisting of thirty-three hectares of ground, lies on the south side of the river, near the bridge of Austerlitz. As you enter by the northeastern gate, the splendid enclosure pre- sents you the view of a large grove divided into four parts by three avenues running its whole length. The space contains a Menagerie, a Botanical Garden, with hot-houses, a Museum and Library of Natural History, a Museum of Comparative Anatomy,, 188 CKESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. a Museum of Mineralogy and Geology, and an Amphitheatre with laboratories and apparatus of every possible description for public lectures. The lectures are delivered by an attached corps of thirteen professors, comprising the most distinguished men in the kingdom, and are perfectly open and gratuitous. The whole establishment is maintained at the expense of the government, at an annual cost of about sixty thousand dollars ; and it gives em- ployment to one hundred and sixty persons. The Menagerie is avowedly the largest in Europe, and the most complete in its arrangements. It alone requires the space of about twenty-four acres ; and the surface, which is perfectly level by the side of the amphitheatre, varied pleasingly in the middle by inequalities, and terminating upon the quay in an embank- ment, communicates with the garden by three fine entrances. The tame animals are kept in fourteen parts, — six at the east of the building, called the Rotunda, and eight at the east towards the Seine. Each of these is again subdivided into as many smal- ler compartments as the establishment contains different species. To each park is annexed a building conformable to the instinct and mode of life of the animal, into which it may retire at pleas- ure. Nothing can be more picturesque than this site ; a move- ment of surface ever varying, heightened by the unique and fanciful cottage homes which adorn and variegate the entire enclos- ure. It would be impossible to enumerate all the species of tame animals and reptiles ; but suffice it to say, that you can scarcely realize that you have directly before you all the various animals, and more, about which you have read, or seen in pictures, which you may now scan, and whose very habits you may now observe at leisure. Here you see an alpaca, remarkable for the length and fineness of his wool ; and a little further, an African sheep, with a long tail ; again, you meet with the goat of Tartary, India, MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY. 139 and Upper Egypt, besides different species of Europe. Near them is a Mexican lama. Besides these already enumerated, are giraffes, elephants, camels, zebras, deer, antelopes, ostriches, cas- sowaries, etc. Towards the Seine, is a Menagerie for wild beastj, composed of twenty-one enclosures. There may be seen several species of bears, a jaguar, lions, hyenas ; but the most curious is the black panther. The palace of the lions forms a range of strong cabins, divided longitudinally into two sets of apartments, — the inner being ap- propriated for the feeding and rest of the beasts ; and the outer being strong cages, defended by iron bars in front, where the animals sun themselves. The large family of monkeys are appropriately provided for in a stone edifice, which has in front a circular cage of some fifty feet in diameter, where these mischie- vous and tricky animals can remain during night or day, in cold or rainy weather. It is warmed in the winter, and being provided with galleries, ropes, and ladders, affords opportunity for these singular creatures to exhibit themselves much to the amusement of the crowd. In the palace of the Birds of Prey are specimens of every variety of eagles, hawks, and vultures, with some others. In other enclosures may be seen the gallinaceous birds, the aqua- tic birds, and a great variety of other families. There are enclosures for the various species of reptiles. You almost tremble to see several species of serpents, coiling around each other in loving embrace, with their fiery forked tongues in quick and me- nacing movement, or, peradventure, the great anaconda or boa- constrictor, with a slow and majestic movement, basking his huge body in the sun. The Museum of Natural History is contained in a long range of buildings three stories high. A detailed account of this vast 190 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. collection, in which almost every class of living beings has its representative preserved, would fill volumes. The interior of the building is divided into six halls in the first stage, five in the second. In the first are the reptiles and fish ; in the second, the quadrupeds, insects, and shell-fish. The collection of fish comprises about five thousand individuals, and about half that number of species. They are preserved with an art so exquisite, as to leave in perfection their exterior form, thus revealing how well the Creating Hand knew to vary his gifts. In the midst of this world of wonders, is the statue of Buflfon, the great French naturalist. It is draped in an ordinary loose dress, standing, in the act of writing on a tablet resting upon a terrestrial globe. His head is turned away from the tablet, and he seems intently examining the objects around. Under and about his feet are the head of a lion, a dog asleep, a serpent, some marine productions, and a large group of rock crystals. The observer is at once favorably struck with the happy conception of the artist, in combining with the individual traits of the eminent naturalist, the noble thought of representing the minister and in- terpreter of nature ; and he reads upon the pedestal the fitting memorial of Buffon : Majestati Natures par Ingenium. Pajon, the sculptor, is considered as eminently fortunate in delineating the features and portraying the expression of the great man, to : be transmitted to future generetions ; but Buffon was as great a writer as naturalist, and he who felt that the style is the man, will ! survive in his immortal writings, the mouldering atoms of tablet or marble. He lives there, and will live, so long as shall exist I the French language, and the works of nature which lent inspi- ration to his thoughts. His works themselves are a much fitter eulogy than the inscription upon the pedestal of his effigy. TW most brilliant part of the Museum is in the second story. MUSEUM. OF MINERALOGY AND GEOLOGY. 19] Five thousand mammalia, forming as many species, appear undei their natural colors ; in their distinctive features are revealed their natural instincts ; upon their varied mien are imprinted theii qualities or powers ; their forms, even, are admirably adapted to the circumstances of the country which produced them, and to their dispositions, whether mild or malevolent. The soul ir 7olun- tarily bows in humble adoration to the energy and creative power of such wonders. It experiences the same sentiment, in a more lively degree perhaps, in viewing a variety not less astonishing, both in configuration and color, of six thousand individuals and two thousand three hundred species of birds. What exquisite richness of plumage have they ! Every color, — the purest gold, silver, azure, rouge, and green, is reflected from their glossy feathers with a brilliancy and lustre inimitable. The museum of mineralogy and geology is beyond all question the richest in the world. In the middle of the gallery extends throughout its entire length a series of glass cases, in which are admirably arranged all the minerals which form the crust of the earth, classed according to their age and formation. These cases form, thus to speak, so many archives, in which are inscribed the series of all the revolutions of the terrestrial globe. Here was a crystal of quartz three feet in diameter ; beryls, ten inches ; am- monites, eighteen to twenty inches ; and many beautiful specimens of fossil fish, from one to three feet long, in some of which, not only the size and shape, but also the color of the scales, was dis- tinctly discernible. In (he intervals may be seen ma^ificent marble tables in mo- saic, comprising specimens of the various kinds of marble any where found. Upon one of them is a huge stone which fell at some time, from the upper regions ; also an enormous mass of iron-ore of the same origin. 192 CEESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. In the middle of the hall is a noble statue of the illustrious Cuvier. It will be remembered that at an early age, the eminent man was called to Paris to fill the professorship of Comparative Anatomy, and soon attained the highest distinction as a naturalist. The Cabinet of Comparative Anatomy formed wholly by him, and his various other works on natural history, form an imperish- able monument of his genius. Cuvier was a protestant and Chris- tian, and it was delightful to see in the labors which constituted the basis of his fame, none of those elements of fragility which mark the conclusion of science when opposed to the works of God. The statue stands on a base about five feet high, in his or- dinary dress as lecturer, his left hand resting on a globe, the fore- finger pointing into the interior, as if directing attention to some internal phenomenon, while the right hand is raised up nearly in a line with the face, as if in the act of explaining it. On one side of the pedestal is his name ; and on another in a unique inscription, a list of his different publications. It is highly appropriate. His works do indeed praise him. The Museum of Comparative Anatomy is in a building to the west of the enclosure. It was commenced in 1775, by Dauben- ton; guided by the profound genius of Cuvier, who knew equally well to discover truth, or perceive her intimate relations, or give euibodimejj£ to her hidden mysteries in the noble form of speech. The specimens are grouped so as to present the common resem- blances on whicVthe divisions into genera are founded, and the particular differences of species at one view, affording great fa- cilities for study and comparison. The specimens are preserved with infinite art by the injection of fluid into their minutest art- eries ; and not only is the human organization compared with that of diverse animals, but the different races are compared with each other ; such as the European, Tartar, Chinese, New Holland, MUSEUM OF COMPARATIVE AX ATOM? 193 Negro, Hottentot, several savage tribes of America, and ancient Egyptian mummies. You are struck with the resemblances and diversities. There is also a large collection of monsters and lusus naturae. The wax preparations are numerous. There is a room expressly devoted to craniology, in which plaster models of skulls are arranged with such taste and skill as would delight a phrenolo- gist. You proceed from surprise to surprise through the fifteen halls of which the cabinet is composed, which contains more than fifteen thousand anatomical specimens, and the collection is rapidly increasing. The collection in the vegetable kingdom is immense, and the classification and arrangement into orders, genera and species are astonishing and beautiful. Near the library building is a large square filled with trees, that burst their foliage in the spring, sep- arated from others merely ornamental in the summer. A second walk, bordered by maple trees, separates a rich group of autumnal fruit-trees, and these, in turn, are separated from a grove of ever- greens. Further on, is a space appropriated for the culture of culinary vegetables ; then comes the school for plants of domestic economy, such as are used for the subsistence of man, animals, or employed in the arts. In the first parterre, situated in the inter- val of the broad walks, extending opposite the galleries, are first, flowers, and perennial plants ; then, in an enclosure accessible by means of iron gates, exotic trees, and especially such as are resin- ous, which are undergoing a process of acclimation. In the mid- dle of this is a beehive, and then a school for the cultivation of flowers. Several square plots, in the vicinity, are used for the cultivation of medicinal flowers. The entire interval extending to the right of the broad walk, bordered with lindens to the Swiss valley, is devoted to the study of six thousand species or varieties of fruit-trees growing on the French soil. A little further on is 17 194 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. the Botanic school, or seven thousand plants arranged according to the natural method of Jussieu. Each is labelled according to its name, family, and class. Besides these are extensive hot-houses, in which are beautifully arranged every species of exotic plant that requires a warmer climate than that of Paris. The array here presented is actually overpowering, and the mind is staggered under such a wilderness ot vegetable wonder and beauty. All the ground not actually appropriated for a specific scientific purpose, is delightfully embellished with trees, shrubs, plants, tlowers, or broad and well gravelled walks, to charm and delight you at every step. The natural inequalities of the ground are preserved, in order to present the greatest possible variety, and it is so adorned as to exhibit the wildness and luxuriance of nature, heightened by the gilding hand of art. You pass on to the upper garden, through enclosures of fruit- trees and hot-beds, towards the rising grounds, on which are erected the magnificent conservatories. Between these, is a path leading to a little elevation, called the Labyrinth, on the ascent of which is a noble Cedar of Lebanon, four feet in diameter at the base, which was planted here more than a century ago by the cel- ebrated Bernard de Jussieu, who brought it from England. It is a beautiful tree, and appears not unworthy to be the emblem of the majesty of Israel. Not far from the cedar is the tomb of Daubenton, who devoted more than fifty years of his calm and laborious life to the study of nature in this museum. You reach the summit of the hill by a spiral path bordered with ever- green. Upon the summit is a kiosk, or iron turret, from which a good view of the city may be had. Such is a brief and necessarily imperfect sketch of this minia- ture world of nature. No description, however elaborate or col- EVENING SCHOOL. 19;' ored, can convey a faithful picture of the original. To get an adequate idea of its wonderful extent, riches and beauty, one must actually visit it, and linger amid its munificence. One evening I was called on by a gentleman, whose acquaint- ance I had previously formed, and who very kindly offered to ac- company me on a visit to some of the adult and juvenile evening schools. It was Monsieur the Director of the School of Freres. On descending from my room, I found him in the private saloon with Madame David, engaged in lively conversation, chatting and occasionally joking as familiarly as if they had been old acquaint- ances, although this was their first meeting. We were soon joined by two or three others of the Freres, when our little party set off in lively mood, in one of the omnibuses which may be found at all times in any part of the city. Monsieur le Directeur was in excellent spirits, and actually poured forth his capacious and gen- erous soul for my peculiar edification and amusement. He was beyond middle age, above the medium stature, and rather corpu- lent. His massive face, beaming eyes, and open and radiant ex- pression, betokened the voluminous and versatile nature of his spirit. He permitted not a moment of the time in our passage or return, to pass unfilled. He was at times instructive, caustic, hu- morous, sentimental, but always kind, gracious, and animating. In spite of his religious garb, it was easily seen, that the world and its cares sat lightly upon him. He had a smile for its follies, a tear for its miseries, but a willing heart and a ready hand to ad- vance the good and noble wherever found. Of an observing cast of mind, possessed of a well-digested fund of thought and in- formation, with an easy and appropriate flow of language, he was eminently entertaining. He was one of those men rarely to be met with, in whose society you feel a continual glow of agreeable excitement. 196 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. These schools were recently established by the city, for the ben> efit of the laboring poor. Only a portion of this class avail them- selves of their liberal provisions ; yet the institution attests the humane and munificent spirit of the government, and refutes the charge sometimes made, that monarchical governments are neg- lectful of the improvement and welfare of the people. The school that we were visiting, was one of the largest and most suc- cessfully conducted of this class, in the city ; and I was necessarily deeply interested in inspecting the mode of its operation, and learning of its character and success. My friend the conducteur, who seemed perfectly known to every one we met, took me through all the rooms, introducing me to the teachers, and some- times to the scholars, and explaining explicitly everything wor- thy of note. His very presence diffused around a genial and gladsome feeling wherever he went. The scholars seemed to re- gard him with a paternal and reverential sentiment akin to ado- ration. I was struck with the spirit of willingness, and the habits cf strict assiduity which prevailed entire among the learners, and the kindly and earnest disposition expressed in the affectionate tones of voice, and the benignant regard of the teachers. The one party seemed imbued with profound gratitude for so grand and munificent a privilege, and appeared determined to improve the moments as if each came laden with golden opportunities ; the other showed that they felt the humane nature of their mission, and would ameliorate by hearty kindness the task rendered doubly difficult by early omissions. The spirit which prevailed was de- lightful — charming; it bordered on enthusiasm; and, carried away by its sympathetic influence, and the crowd of animating as- sociations which the scene and occasion gave forth, I was filled with deep emotion. It was certainly unique and profoundly interesting to see men bowed with age, struggling with a manly Heart but EVENING SCHOOLS. DRAWING. 197 with a child's perception, to master the mere elements oi their vernacular tongue. Here were persons forty and even fifty years of age, who had come up to the place fatigued with the day's la- bor, cheerfully yielding the small fragments of time left them amid the incessant and depressing toil for the narrowest physi- cal subsistence, in order to gain the keys of knowledge, which were to unlock the portal, revealing to their eager gaze the world of thought and sentiment. The muscular working of their manly countenances betrayed their intensity of soul, — and as they brushed from their brow the sweat and dust, which in their earnest desire for mental acquisition, they had not removed before leaving their toil, I could not but feel abashed and hu- miliated in view of my own delinquencies, — at the thought of hours misspent, and opportunities misimproved. It is impossi- ble for us who have learned some of the elements of knowledge in our youth, to estimate their value, or appreciate the want of them felt by those who were so unfortunate as to be deprived of the glorious blessing. These early privileges were brightened into our youthful mind imperceptibly, like the gradual opening of the noon of day ; while their possession and noble results flowing in upon our being in broad and intermitting streams, are like the gladsome and genial sunshine and dew, whose very universality, life-breathing fragrance, and perennial beauty, render us indiffer- ent to their value and loveliness. A feature of this school, not unworthy of mention, was the prominence given to Drawing. I had observed the large share of attention devoted to this branch, in the other schools I visited, and I thought to comprehend* the reasons for the course pursued ; but here, where the learners, from the nature of the case, could not be expected to be taken farther than the mere elements of reading, writing, and spelling, it seemed an 17* 198 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. injudicious appropriation of time, to spend any of it in the ac- quisition of any branch of learning, but such as constitute, m common opinion, with us, the simplest ground-studies of an educa- tion. A moment's reflection, however, rectified this view. The truth is, that the notions of the French, and those generally pre- vailing, in this country, in regard to the comparative value of certain branches of education, and particularly that of drawing, are different. We are accustomed to look upon drawing, in s course of study, as ornamental only, — calculated, at the most, but to cultivate the taste and elevate and refine the sentiments ; but the French, in addition to this influence of the beautiful art, connect it directly with the common pursuits of life, and make it an indispensable acquisition in every artisan who would expect to excel in his trade. And it cannot for a moment be questioned, that the superiority of the French in the grace and beauty of their fabrications, can be traced directly to the great at- tention given by them to the art of drawing. In this school a considerable proportion of the scanty time was devoted to this ex- ercise by all; the walls of the room were covered with patterns, illustrating every stage in the progress of the learner, from the first rough lines, to the most perfect and beautiful picture ; and the readiness and evident pleasure with which the teacher showed you the more successful efforts of the learners, commenting, at the same time, upon his enviable talents, — while other branches were omitted, — clearly evinced the value attached to the attainment by the French, merely in its ordinary relations to practical life. And the exercise was engaged in here, by the scholars, not as it is too frequently among us, merely to while away the time, or as a re- lief from more irksome studies, but with a spirit of deep and earnest enthusiasm, — and the improvement made was correspond- *ngly good. Indeed, I was sh©wn some specimens, executed on the ATTENTION GIVEN TO DRAWING. 199 spot, which for perfection and grace of outline, delicacy and charm of shading, and life-glowing and spiritual beauty breathed into them, would have done credit to any artist, — but when considered as the productions of beginners, mere tyros, in the art, they were really wonderful. Our first astonishment, however, at such superior ac- quisition, will be diminished when we consider that the French- man seems endowed by nature with a peculiar talent for the appreciation of the nice and beautiful in form ; and were it not so, the influences of his external life could not but form such a quality of his being. The great attention given to art throughout the country, the vast gardens in which every form of nature is ad- miringly displayed, the numerous public monuments adorned with the riches of ancient sculpture, the vast piles of architecture every- where offering to view their grandeur and magnificence, the im- mense collections of paintings glowing with beauty, with which Paris and all the important towns of France are filled, and all entirely free and accessible to everybody, are so many educational influences, silently but unceasingly, forming in the soul of the native the very spiritual essence of art. The Parisian is sur- rounded by such influences from infancy to age. The first play- thing of his nursery is, it may be, an exquisite copy of the Venus de Medici or the Apollo de Belvidere ; the fountain in which he sports his tiny bauble, is filled with Naiads and Tritons ; the gar- den whither his nurse or governess takes him for an airing is decorated with statues and antiques ; indeed, he cannot cast his eyes up, or around, without meeting with some object of art. He breathes, as it were, an atmosphere of art, — and so saturated be- comes his soul with the forms of beauty, that he has only to acquire the rules of outward form, and the spirit flows in, as by natural accord. We were led from the ordinary study-rooms into a small stikdU 200 CRESTS FKOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. for moulding heads and busts. A student was hard at work, all covered with dust. He was mentioned to me as possessing very superior talent, — and having passed rapidly through the several grades of drawing, crayoning, etc., was now finishing off in this department previously to his departure for Philadelphia, where he intended to pursue his vocation. He was eager and minute in his inquiries touching the United States ; and when he learned that I was from Boston, he invited me to step in some day, and make him a call, when he should be installed in his new Western home,— never for a moment imagining that many people, residing in Bos- ton and vicinity, never go to Philadelphia even for once in their life. The school session is between seven and ten in the evening, and is held every day of the week except one. The teachers receive about one hundred and twenty dollars per annum. We passed into the basement story, and were soon standing be- fore a large class of juvenile, indigent, evening-scholars. They were poorly clad, covered with the dust of their labor, and had the appearance of having come direct from their toil to the school. Their countenances bore a depressed and saddened expression, but their eyes sparkled with youthful hope and vivacity. They were deeply interested, I was told, and were making rapid pro- gress. Who knows, mused I, that here is not developing genius, one day to illumine the world? It was certainly a touching spectacle to contemplate this Spartan band of youth, who, con- temning the captivating recreations of children, had nobly decided — even against the immense odds — to conquer or die in the strug- gle for improvement. The genius of learning ever lends a listen- ing ear to such suitors, and never fails to dispense her favors generously when thus wooed. The example of these youth, giving the few moments of their time in the intervals of their severe toil. EVENING SCHOOLS. 201 to intellectual culture, should put to shame many of our sons and daughters, who find study irksome even when enlivened by the pleasing and delightful circumstances of books, teachers, appara- tus, and all the appointments which human ingenuity can invent, or a noble benevolence apply, to lessen the toil of the student in the declivitous path up the hill of science. CHAPTER XVI. PALACE «7F YH3 LUXEMBOURG — RICH PAINTINGS — INSTITUTION FOR BEA^-MUTES — HALE AND CHEERFUL APPEARANCE OF IN- MATES — MODE OF TEACHING — TEACHERS OF FRENCH — PAL- ACE OF THE FINE ARTS A NICE PARTY OF COUNTRY BEAUX AND LASSES — CHURCH OF THE MADELINE — ITS MAGNIFI- CENCE — RICH TREAT AT THE PROTESTANT CHURCH — NUNS AT THE CHURCH OF ST. GERMAIN L* AUXERROIS — RURAL-RESTAU- RANT — MADAME DAVID — REUNION OF OUVRIERS — BISHOP OF PARIS — DEEPLY INTERESTING CHARACTER OF EXERCISES. On Friday I made a visit to the Palace of the Luxembourg. It is boldly situated at the head ot the rue de Tourno?i, and has i connected with it, on the south, an extensive garden, beautifully , laid out with walks stretching through trees, shrubbery and flow- ers ; and the whole enlivened by sheets of water, upon which I frequently saw, in my rambles in that direction, skaters in brisk and jocular exercise. The present edifice was commenced in 1616, under the direction of Marie de Medicis. In 1798, it was greatly improved and decorated. Its principal entrance presents ! at its extremities two large pavilions, united by a double terrace, pierced by four arcades. In the middle of the edifice, upon a quadrangular basis, rises a neat and elegant cupola. It develops three orders of architecture : first, the rez-de-chausse, — or ground- floor, — exhibits the Tuscan ; then, in the first stage, comes the Doric, and the Ionic displays itself in the second stage. The PALACE OF THE LUXEMBOURG. 203 whole appearance is masculine, and singular. There are many paintings, and some of great value, in this palace. Among them are gems, from the pencils of Reubens, Raphael, and Benjamin West. How indefatigable must have been the industry, as well as profound the genius of these sublime spirits, especially the two former, whose works may be found in nearly every gallery of con- sequence in Europe ! How is it, that great genius is so often found united to great industry and perseverance ? May it not be, that the latter serves to give birth to the former? Some of these paintings are more than two hundred years old, and yet they retain, in a good degree, their spirit and freshness. The art is indeed noble, that can arrest the varying expression, — the faithful index of the fugitive emotions of the soul, — and trans- mit it thus, through successive generations. The library is two hundred and twelve feet in length, by twenty- three in width. It is decorated with many choice pieces of paintings and sculpture. The central cupola of the gallery, painted by Eugene Delacroix, represents the Elysium of great men, as described by Dante. The chapel, which is on the ground-floor, is beautiful, and near it is a magnificent hall, painted by Reubens, called the sleeping chamber of Marie de Medicis. There are many other things here of deep interest, but space would fail me to enumerate them. The paintings struck me as being larger, more highly colored, and to represent action and violent emotion in a higher degree than those in general in the Louvre. Perhaps it was because more of them were of the French school. My guide, whom I did not fancy, took me hastily through the building, reciting his story in a monotonous manner, to which I gave little attention. Here, in the gallery of paintings, as in that of the Louvre, were artists as- siduously engaged in making copies of some of the smaller works 204 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. After spending much less time than I could have wished in thia interesting palace, a few moments' walk brought me to that nobly humane asylum, the Royal Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, situated in the Rue de St. Jacques. The building is by no means imposing in appearance ; but an inspection of its interior shows it to be sufficiently ample and conveniently disposed. The superin- tendent showed me over the edifice with a delicacy of politeness which in Paris extends even to the government, and which here seemed tempered with a suavity and kindness inspired by the be- nevolent influences of the spot. The males whom I saw, were scattered in the different rooms, intently occupied in various me- chanical employments. They were garbed in blouse ; and bore a hale and cheerful aspect, which seemed to show that no care pressed upon them, and that no thought shaded by the irrevocable misfortune of their condition, was wont to cross their minds. How fortunate the nature of man, that can thus be formed to the con- tingencies of any lot ! The articles of fabrication shown me, were even superior to those made by the blind. If not more delicately elaborate, they exhibited more solidity and a smoother finish. Indeed, I half fancied that I discovered traces of superior care and devotion in the nicer parts, not found in the fabrications of hear- ing persons, distracted as they are by appeals to the external sense, and hurried by an impatience to participate in the gladsome notes of social and musical life. The sublime and humane idea of restoring to society men whom aature would separate, is due to the Abbe de 1'Epee. With a fortune greatly disproportionate to the largeness of his soul, he devoted his narrow means for the furtherance of his noble mission, compensating by talent, energy, and devotion, and by a rigid sim- plicity of life, for the want of greater pecuniary means. He at first assembled in his own house forty deaf and dumb persons, INSTITUTION FOR THE DEAF AND DUMB. 205 boarded them at his own expense, and after reserving the merest pittance for his own sustenance, expended the entire of the re- mainder of his estate in educating them, and in founding one of the noblest institutions that has ever blessed humanity. In the Salle des Exercises, is a fine picture of this founder of the school, embracing the young deaf and dumb Count de Toulouse, whom he had educated. There is, moreover, a bust of the Abbe de l'Epee, as also one of the Abbe de Sicard, who, on the death of the Abbe de l'Epee, in 1796, undertook the management of the es- tablishment. It has since been transferred from a convent of Celestines, to the buildings of the Seminaire de St. Magloire, where it now exists. The school comprises two hundred boys and sixty girls, who are admitted between the ages of ten and fourteen years, and are re- tained in general six years. The best two among the male pupils belonging to each class of the sixth year, are selected to receive the advantages of a superior course of education for the additional term of three years, — and from what is called the class of in- struction complimentaire. They are supported by a fund left by the late physician of the institution, the benevolent Dr. Itard. Most of the pupils are supported here, at the expense of the government, but a few are kept at the school by their relatives. The expense of the government is about ninety dollars per annum, and private schol- ars are charged one hundred and seventy dollars. The number of instructors is, eight for the males, four of whom are deaf and dumb ; and four for the females, besides four or five young per- sons who are preparing for situations as teachers, by attending the exercises of the school-rooms, and rendering assistance from time to time as they find the opportunity. These are called aspirants, and become subsequently teachers, if their talents and success eecm to warrant the merit. 18 206 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. The salaries of the teachers are not large ; but after thirty yean service, they receive on retiring, a pension from the government oi half-pay for life. I was not permitted to see the female part of the school. The sexes are kept entirely distinct ; and to my request to be shown through the department, I was told that no man was allowed there but the priest. The reason for the separation of the sexes, is founded on the belief that, deprived of articulate speech, the ordi- nary advantages of social intercourse would not accrue to these pupils. In this decision, it is forgotten that the communication of thought, of sentiment, of emotion, does not depend wholly upon speech. The beauty and poetry of the soul often finds a happier and more forcible medium of expression in the manner, the coun- tenance, the eye, than could be given to it by the meagre and in- adequate power of language. And imperfectly developed must ever be that character, which comes to age without the vivifying influence of intercourse with the opposite sex. In this admirably arranged charity, the pupils of both sexes are instructed by means of three different languages, namely, by al- phabet, by mimic-signs, and by dumb-articulation. The last men- tioned mode, although successfully pursued in several distinguished institutions in Germany, has not yet gained much favor with the French. It has been repeatedly attempted in this school, but the system has not gained particular favor. The professors have declared, that in their opinion, the advantages to be gained by this mode, were by no means equal to the comparative time and effort necessary to reach the result. Here, as elsewhere in the schools, all are carefully taught draw- ing, for the double purpose of cultivating taste, and of enabling them with facility to delineate the signs and the alphabet, by which they can mutually communicate their ideas to eacli Other. MY FRENCH TEACHER. 20' In taking leave of this interesting establishment, I could not but pause for a moment in the entrance-square, to contemplate an object of great curiosity. It was an enormous elm, two hundred and forty-six years of age, and ninety feet in height, which had been planted by Sully, minister of Henry IV. It shows no sign of age, and is considered the finest tree in the neighborhood of Paris. Its gigantic stature, and wide-spreading branches, are not unemblematic of the support and protection which the govern- ment of France affords to its unfortunate children. One of the lecture-rooms at the School of Medicine, which I looked into on my way 'home, detained me but a few moments. The professor, a venerable-looking gentleman, apparently fifty or sixty years of age, seated in an armed-chair, was reading a lecture from a manuscript, in a dull and lifeless manner. Specimens of anatomy were promiscuously lying on the table before him, at some distance, which he sometimes referred to by leaving off his reading, taking up the part to be explained, and deliberately ex- emplifying the point that he had presented. His lack of ani- mation was accompanied by its usual result, a thin attendance ; for the room was no more than half filled. I was called on, in the evening, by a young gentleman who had been sent to me by my friend ^lonsieur the Director, and recom- mended by him as a suitable person to improve me in the graces of French pronunciation. He was a very young man, perhaps no more than twenty years of age, yet full of spirit, vivacity, and grace, and possessed of a smooth and fluent utterance. As he could not speak English, he offered his services to me for four francs a lesson, — five being the usual price. I struck a bargain with him for a lesson a day, of an hour's length ; and I had no reason afterwards to regret the choice I made in him, for he proved a faithful and excellent instructor, and he aided me in 208 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. other respects. I had previously called, for purposes of mere in- quiry, however, on several of these conveniences to strangers in Paris. They are quite a numerous tribe in this well ar- ranged city ; and their cards, ostensibly posted, frequently meet the eye in certain quarters. These gentlemen-teachers are entirely complaisant, enter readily into conversation with you, — and by the perfect coincidence of opinion and congeniality of feeling be- tween you, they will be very likely to touch your sympathies at once. It may, perchance, appear a little singular at first, that they happen always to have just time to teach one more pupil, and that although they have before them several applications for this hour, you would most assuredly receive the preference. After learning that I was from Massachusetts, they would enumerate the distinguished men from my own State, whom they had had the honor to instruct ; and I really began to feel a kind of social elevation, in being so near such eminent society. Feb. 5th. I attended in the morning, two lectures at the Sar- bonne. The rooms were not filled. The professors spoke with notes before them. In one room each student had with him a book, to which I noticed he was frequently cited by the speaker. In the afternoon, I passed through the Palace of Fine Arts. In company, was a small number of persons belonging to the rural pop- ulation. My attention was as much engrossed with the interesting company, as with the remarkable objects to be seen in the museum. They were evidently in Paris for the first time, and as they would probably never see it again, they could not but be highly impressed with the value of time. Every traveller feels that a day in Paris is equal to weeks or months elsewhere ; then how concentrated must be the feelings of the inhabitant of the country or smaller town, who has been accustomed to look up to Paris as the sum of artificial creation, and the end of travelling life, — as a world of MUSEUM OF FRENCH MONUMENTS. 209 beauty in miniature, and the grand centre of opinion and style for the world, and to which he must make one visit in his life, as would a Mohammedan to the city of Mecca. So strong is this feeling among the rural class in France, that sometimes the surplus earnings of many years, if not an entire life, are freely consecrated to this one long-nurtured purpose. " Who has not seen Paris, has seen nothing," is a common saying in the country towns in France. The party in question was composed of youthful persons of either sex, and by the evident agreeable state of their feelings, they were nearer to each other in sentiment, than to warrant the opinion of being merely second-cousins. They passed through the different rooms, following our guide in the most docile manner, apparently thinking more of themselves and of each other, than of the interior of the edifice. Whenever their atten- tion was a little diverted to the objects we met with, it created only a mixture of surprise and distraction, similar to that which the boy experiences when he enters for the first time a store filled with the captivating objects of his admiration. The buildings occupying the spot whence now rises the vast and interesting structure, called the Palace of the Fine Arts, was used, after the Revolution, as a general depot for the tombs, statues, bass-reliefs, and other decorations wrested from foreign churches and private establishments by the conquering and grasp- ing power of the French arms. These profaned relics of victory were gathered in the various halls, cloister, and garden of the es- tablishment, classified and arranged according to their century. This collection, which must have been unique and deeply interest- ing, received the name of the Museum of French Monuments. At the Restoration, however, most of the monuments were returned to the churches whence they were taken ; and the present edifice is used for a museum and school. 18* 210 CRESTS FROM THE JCEAN-WORLD. An ample stairway, overlaid and ceiled with marble, formed un der a grand vestibule, and sustained by marble pillars, leads to the first stage of the building, which comprises several spacious com partments decorated with paintings. In one of these rooms con- structed in an amphitheatrical form, is the celebrated fresco, from the pencil of Paul-de-la-Roche, representing the eight principal schools of painting: namely, the Roman, the Venetian, the Floren- tine, the German, the Spanish, the Holland, the Flemish, and French school. I was particularly struck with the portrait of Ra- phael, in the piece, bearing a more than mortal expression of beauty Two other rooms constitute a museum of chef cf&uvres of antiquities. In the chapel of Medicis is a copy of the master- piece of Michael Angelo; and in the ancient church of the Petites-Augustines is the splendid copy, by Singlon, of his " Last Judgment." This picture is very large, and the canvas is crowded with figures displaying, with boldness, an infinity of attitudes. The picture illustrates the powerful creative genius of the great Italian painter ; but the impression which it makes upon the mind is rather confused. In the rooms in the first stage take place the annual exposi- tions of works of art, sent by pupils from Rome. The second stage contains the works which have obtained the prize at the Institute. After leaving this royal museum, I made a visit, for the twen- tieth time, perhaps, to the justly celebrated church of the Made- line. I could have wished to visit it twenty times more ; and when I did leave it for the last time, it was with a feeling of regret which one experiences on the separation from a scene enshrined in the mind with delicious emotions. Its noble and symmetrical proportions, its pure but splendid architecture, its gorgeously rich interior and decorations, the fine paintings with which its walls CHURCH OF THE MADELINE. 211 and ceilings are adorned, combine to render it by far the most beautiful work of art I ever beheld. The magnificent structure is in the boulevard of the same name, opposite the Rue Royale ; and is after the Parthenon at Athens, but larger, being three hundred and twenty-eight feet in length, and one hundred and thirty-eight feet in width, while its archetype is only two hundred and twenty-eight by one hundred feet. It stands upon a platform twelve feet high, surrounded by a magnificent peristyle of fifty-two Corinthian columns, each sixty feet high and six feet in diameter. Nothing can be finer than the view presented by the facade, ornamented as it is with all which sculpture has produced that is rich and elegant. But in gazing upon this splendid triumph of genius, the eye first falls upon the noble fronton, upon which, in a vast composition with alto-relievo, is represented the Last Judgment. The figures have a proportion of about fifteen feet. In the middle, rises the person of Christ ; and at his feet is the Madeline in a suppliant attitude ; she ap- pears to solicit pardon of the fishermen near her, while an angel, armed with a sword, repulses them. Passing from the majestic corridor of the double range of col- umns, at the southern front, through the massive bronze doors, you enter the body of the edifice. What a scene bursts upon your enraptured view ! The floor entirely of marble, divided into com- partments of various figures and colors ; the numerous chandeliers of burnished gold, gilding the vast space of the interior ; the pic- tures of consummate execution speaking to you from the walls ; the beautiful statues, adorning all the niches, representing the sublimest form of thought ; the magnificent group of sculpture over the high altar of the virgin herself, of the purest white mar- ble, guarded by two angels of extreme grace and beauty ; all con- spire to render it a scene of indescribable beauty. 212 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. The interior of the edifice is totally different from most great Catholic churches. It is not divided into nave and aisles, but forms a vast hall without windows, receiving its light from open- ings at the centres of three fine domes that form the interior roof. The history of the church is curious. A religious edifice was ordered to be built here, by Louis XV, and the first stone was laid in 1763. The Revolution of 1789 suspended the work. In 1808, Napoleon changed entirely the plan and destination of the structure of twenty years, which had cost nearly two millions of francs, and caused to be erected on the site a Temple of Glory in honor of the Grand Army. But this, as well as many of Napo- leon's gigantic plans, was arrested in 1813, at the restoration of the Bourbons. Louis XVIII. recommenced the building in 1816, with the design of finishing the church to receive the monuments of his family, and to be dedicated to the Magdalen. Louis Phil- lippe, with his unbounded liberality to the fine arts, had the unfinished work completed. However rich and beautiful the interior of this church, its high- est charm consists in its fine exterior. The profusion and variety of beauty within, overpowers and distracts the mind ; but in con- templating its noble and elegant proportions from without, the soul is gradually elevated, the thought concentrated ; while the emo- tions, purified, become entranced in a spiritual elysium. The contemplation of this edifice, and that of the Pantheon, produces a similar effect upon the mind. The lover of the beautiful will ever feel that he cannot look upon them too often, or gaze upon them too long, — while in after years, their image will ever and anon float in his memory, awaking delightful recollections of the past. Sunday, Feb. 6th. First, went to the post-office, but received only, as compensation for my trouble, a renewed practical illustra- ST. GERMAIN L'AUXERROIS. 213 tion of the pronunciation of the French negation — ne lien, a sound, by the way, with which my ear was already but too familiar. Afterwards, I attended service at the great Protestant church of the city. On arriving, I found the church, which is ca- pable of holding two thousand persons, nearly full, and numbers, besides, rushing forward in quest of seats. From this impatience of movement all around, and the glowing expectation which was depicted upon the countenances of the audience, it was easy to infer that some bright particular star, of powerful attraction, was to be the spiritual guide of the forenoon's service. Nor was I at all deceived in so natural a conclusion. The address, which was of unusual length, and very diversified in style, was remarkably well sustained in interest, and had the power to keep the vast au- dience enchained in almost breathless attention, throughout its entire delivery. The speaker was slightly below the medium stature, and rather inclined to corpulency. His movements, how- ever, which were nervous, joined to his beaming countenance and eyes radiant with glow and fervency, added force to his brilliant style. He spoke without written notes, although it was evident enough from the perfection of the plan and details of the discourse, that it had at least been well engraved on the tablet of the mind. French speakers rarely or never read their addresses. Neither the genius of the language, nor the impetuosity of the French character, would admit of such a form. It is said that their speeches are often memorized, which is undoubtedly true, but they appear as spontaneous as if gushing directly from the fountain of the soul, with irrepressive force. Hence, their eloquence has the in- tensity of burning flame, melting with whatever it comes in contact. On returning to my lodging, I spent a brief hour or two in the church of St. Germain VAuxerrois. This edifice possesses inter- 21hnd some of their specimens shown me, were fine. I inspected a-nio- del steam engine, made entirely by a boy, after his daily task." It was ingenious and beautiful, but cost two years' effort. Several other equally curious specimens of work I had the gratification to inspect. They usually make the drawing in the class at school, and then model from it at home, at their leisure. The school is sup-i ported by the government, and is entirely free. It cannot but ; prove a useful institution, and will doubtless be better patronized, when its merits are more fully appreciated. It had already been instrumental in calling forth native talent, which might other- wise have slumbered in the breast of its possessor. It moreover attests the paternal care of the government. Feb. 13th. In my ramblings to-day, I accidentally stumbled upon the Palais de la Bourse, or Merchants' Exchange. It is a magnificent edifice, standing in the middle of a handsome square, surrounded by shade-trees. It is of recent construction, having been commenced only in 1808. The plan of the building pre- j sents a parallelogram two hundred and twenty-five feet in length, by one hundred and thirty-four in width, surrounded by a fine pe- J listyle of sixty-six Corinthian columns, raised upon an elevated basement. A gallery, ornamented with bass-reliefs, emblematical of the operations of commerce, extends quite around the building. The interior has a single grand hall, for the free intercourse of the sons of Mammon. There is, however, a small space of a circular form, and surrounded by a railing, in the south part of the room, CALAIS DE LA BOURSE. 230 allotted to the salesman of stocks, to separate him from the crowd. Sales were going on at the time. A number of persons pressed closely around the enclosure just alluded to, while a man within was conducting the sale with half-frantic gestures, and with most intense and impetuous earnestness. The competition amono- the buyers was apparently so eager and furious, that the bids appeared simultaneous. The vaulted arch of the edifice, by some principle )f acoustics, increased and reverberated the sound, which rolled ilong the spacious room, through the gallery into the decorated tri- bunes, in a commingled and deafening roar. The scene appeared ;o me incomprehensible and ludicrous. I could not for the life of ne perceive how the salesman could distinguish between the bids, so great was the confusion and the interminable roar of sound ; jut the ear can become betrained to wonders. Feb. ISth. The day was fine, and the atmosphere soft. It >eing the first really spring-like day since my arrival, the effect ipon my feelings was such as to tempt me out for a stroll amid ;ome of the charming environs of Paris. In passing through the garden of the Tuileries and the Champs Elysees, it became evi- lent that my feelings were shared by many others. Those en- chanting resorts were thronged with persons of different sexes and ngcs, eager to drink in the first incense of the early dawn of the •pproaching spring. In the garden of the Tuileries, my heart ras gladdened by the sight of covies of rosy children prettily ,nd tastefully dressed. They were gambolling about on the mooth walks, as happy in their fresh and sunny existence, as the aost joyful nature could desire. They were attended, of course, j their nurses, tidily dressed, who with a sedate aspect appeared b have one eye upon their knitting, or some other light work, rtiile the other, glistening with moisture, was peering after the ear little loving creatures, their tiny wards and adopted Mcls. In 240 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. some family groups were infants borne by servants, — the forme* of whom appeared not unapt emblems of the approaching spring, just budding into a hopeful existence. In the Champs Elysees, thousands of elegantly dressed people, with countenances beaming with agreeable sensations, were gaily promenading the wide ave- nues, or indolently sauntering under the majestic elms that line the walks, or gazing with delight upon the groups of statuary with which this paradise is graced, — or, perhaps voluptuously reclining ; upon the seats, watching the varied throng, and yielding to the de- licious sensations which the scene and circumstances induced. From the Triumphal Arch, that fit emblem of the Great Cap- tain, I took my course by chance off to the northwest, and was almost immediately in an extended and charming grove. The j ground here for any extent is as level as an artificial lawn. The trees of oak, locusts, and other varieties, and of less size than | half-grown forests, had been carefully trimmed to present a neat I and uniform appearance. No undergrowth was permitted to ob- struct the view of the passer, or to entangle the feet of the loiterer. This prim and smiling area of wood is handsomely intersected in various directions by wide avenues bordered by stately locusts, and presenting to the eye pleasing vistas narrowing off in the distance to the merest point. These avenues were everywhere thronged with neatly or elegantly attired promenaders, with countenances i glowing with grateful emotions and the exhilarating effects of the genial atmosphere and the brisk exercise, — while there would oc- > casionally roll past some pleasure-vehicle or family carriage, bear- ing steadily on, perhaps, some world-exclusive individual, or per- chance a pleasure-dreaming couple, or more likely, a dignified family circle. Not unfrequently the scene was animated by a single equestrian or troop in graceful and chivalrous costume, sweeping proudly on. Here and there upon the road, or in the NEW FORTIFICATIONS OF PARIS. 241 woods, might be seen or heard groups of country beaux and las* | ses in their rustic but picturesque dress, chatting in lively mood, and occasionally making the silent woods ring with their peals of laughter, so clear and silvery, as well nigh to startle the wood- nymphs from their cozy retreats. As I proceeded on, there fre- quently gleamed through the slim trunks of the trees, a silvery sheet of water, or burst rapturously forth a fine chateau, beautified ; with the treasures of nature and art. I never experienced any- thing more delightful in the way of rural scenery ; and if I had been suddenly translated to the veritable Elysium, I could not i have felt happier for the moment. Doubtless the change from the city, and other circumstances, had much to do in heightening the effect of the agreeable in the scene. On emerging from the Bois de Boulogne, on my return I spent a brief hour in observing a portion of the magnificent new fortifi- cations of Paris. The plan of the work consists of two distinct ' features, — a continuous enclosure, bastioned and terraced, around the whole city, with a line of wet ditches in front, and a system of detached fortresses, fourteen in number, outside. The detached 1 forts are furnished with mortars that can reach the limit of a cir- cle more than six thousand feet in diameter ; and they are so situ- ated as to command every street, place, and house in the capital, except a space containing the palace of the Tuileries, the gardens, and a passage leading from the palace towards St. Germain, af- fording the royal family or government a way of escape, in case the fortifications should fall into the hands of an enemy. It is believed by military men, that they w r ould not prove an impreg- nable barrier against an invading army, although most efficient in demolishing the city, or reducing it, by cutting off supplies. In 1841, one hundred and forty millions of francs, or about twenty-eight millions of dollars, were reluctantly appropriated bv 21 242 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. the Chamber of Deputies, for this grand war-measure; and Low much more has since been absorbed in the ambitious project, I am not able to say. From the commencement, the works were prosecuted amid strong opposition, with an energy unparalleled in the history of human exertion. The late king took a personal interest in their speedy completion, choosing to meet the expense of contracts from his private purse, rather than suffer any delay in their execution. It seems that the several rulers of France have sought to leave some grand monument of art, to illustrate their reign, — each vieing to surpass those who had preceded him, in grandeur and magnificence ; but these efforts here, as elsewhere, have often served to surround their memory with associations dif- ferent from what was intended by their authors. The enormous cost of St. Peter's church at Rome, ushered in the Reformation in Germany. The countless treasures expended on the Versailles Palace, was among the principal causes of the Revolution of 1789 ; while the fortifications of Paris, the grandest of the works of Louis Phillippe, proved but a treacherous power to expel him from his throne, to die in a foreign land. It was evening before I reached the Champs Elysees. A vast throng were silently sweeping along with me through the Avenue de Neuilly, as if eager to regain the fascinations of the voluptu- ous capital. The scene now on my return, though different, wa? hardly less striking than before. The gray folds of evening had invested the various prominent objects along the route, with a new aspect of admiration. The double row of lights along the ave- nue, gradually descending and narrowing in the distance, appeared like continuous ranges of glittering golden balls, suspended from the soft branches of the majestic elms above, through which the vesperian zephyrs were sighing with mellifluous cadence. Reaching the Place de la Concorde, I could not but pause and enjoy awhile CHAMPS ELYSEES. 243 the surrounding beauty. This magnificent spot combines a varied and powerful interest, arising from the unrivalled beauty of the place itself, its touching historical associations, and the splendid views of which it is the radiant focus. In the centre, upon the identical spot where was beheaded the good Louis XVI, as well as his lovely and lamented queen, rises the beautiful Egyptian •obelisk, eighty feet high, a memorial of ages merged in the ob- livious past, upon which mortals, separated from us by the abyss of time, had gazed and thought. This justly admired shaft, con- sisting of a single block of rose-colored granite, was cut and erected by Ramases I. and II., and the shaft is covered with hiero- glyphics extolling the actions of that king or Sesostris. On either side were two magnificent fountains, thought to be the finest in the world, throwing up their pearly jets into the air from the mouths of sporting dolphins, swans and fish, held by swimming Nereids and Tritons. Interspersed around were groups of statuary allegorical of the different towns of France, — from which the lights gleamed, heightening their effect. Through the trees com- posing the forests of the Champs Elysees were glimmering and flashing brilliant gas-lights of palaces and theatres, and of hun- dreds of moving carriages. To the east was the garden of the Tuileries, faintly illumined by the streaming light from the palace- windows. At other times you may see, now the superb colonnade of the Garde-Meuble, again the facade of the Madeline, or the magnificent portico of the Chamber of Deputies. Turning off from the Garden of the Tuileries, by a gate on the north, I was soon in the open square of the Palais Royal. A riood of light streamed from the windows of the numerous cafes and restaurants of this delectable spot. Entering one of the latter of humbler pretensions, I readily had my sharpened appetite ap- peased, by a frugal meal, but of delicious quality, and served in 244 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN- WORLD. the most elegant style imaginable. It consisted, first of a plate of soup, second of fricaseed chicken, third of veal, and fourth, of fish ; bread at discretion ; for desert, was a plate of cakes served in cream, and all accompanied with a half-bottle of wine. The charge for the whole was but thirty-two cents. The dishes were brought in separately, and appeared to have been prepared ex- pressly for the meal, the moment before. 'To be sure, the quan r tity served on each plate was nicely small ; still, when I had eaten of all, I was quite satisfied. I do not think the same meal could have been procured in Boston or New York for double the sum, notwithstanding the price of provision averages a third more at least in Paris, than in the. United States. The estaminets, the restaurants, and the cafes, of Paris, are marked features in the capital. The traveller may search Eu- rope throughout, and he will find nothing to correspond with them ; and as for the United States, whatever may be found there, are but sorry imitations. The general distinctions between them are these : An estaminet is a place where tobacco is smoked, various sorts of beverage are drunk, and generally cards and billiards played. A restaurant is one, where breakfasts and dinners are eaten. A cafe is another, where breakfasts are taken, dominos played, and where coffee, ices, and all refreshing drinks may at any hour be enjoyed. There are some four or five hundred cafes in Paris alone. Their different grades answer to the different ranks of society, from the cabinet-minister to the nameless sans culottes. In the quarter of the Sarbonne are cafes, frequented principally by the class of stu- dents; others by professors; others still, by cabinet-ministers. Every theatre has in its vicinity a cafe. At these cafes, and likewise those of the Boulevard du Temple, principally congregate the actors, the actresses, and the dramatic authors of the time. CAFES OF PARIS. 215 It is thus that the cafes answer in a measure the purpose of clubs ; and some, where the literati congregate, are still associated with the name of Voltaire, Rousseau, and others, who with their pro- fessional friends, used there to assemble, and uncork their spirits and humor. These establishments are frequented by ladies, as well as gen- tlemen. In the best of them may frequently be seen elegantly dressed and well-behaved ladies, either alone, or in company with friends, husbands and children. This mode of living is convenient, agreeable, economical, and gratifies their taste by enabling them to see the beau monde. The families of many of the respectable classes of merchants and professional men, and others, live in this way. They doubtless share a larger amount of social enjoy- ment in this way, than they could in any other. But the evil of the system is, that the Parisian has no home, — and even has no word in his language to express the endearing place; — although social beyond all other men, he is yet not at all do- mestic. The Palais Royal is a quarter of the magnificent cafes. Some of these vie with the most gorgeous saloons of royalty, in taste and splendor. Let me attempt to introduce my reader to one of these. If it be the first time, you are at once dazzled with the view which presents itself. The room is spacious. The decorations in vaii- ous parts are in such gorgeous profusion, that it recalls whatever you may have read of Persian magnificence. The ceiling and walls are elaborately wrought here and there into the most lovely frescos of birds and flowers, — fawns, nymphs, graces, and images in all fantastic forms. Four immense and gilded chandeliers hang from the ceiling. A tall candelabra rises in the centre of the room, and two beautiful lamps stand on the comptoir. These lights, illuminating these colors and this gilding, make the sceno 21* 246 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. brilliant beyond description. And then the mirrors, so located as to double and redouble, yes, twenty times to reflect what has been described. It is not one cafe that you have seen to dazzle and enchant, but a score of them. As you enter, you politely raise your hat. The token of courtesy is recognized by the dame-de-comptoir by a gentle inclination so graceful, easy, and complaisant as not to be surpassed. This fair personage occupies, in another part of the room, a seat covered with velvet fine enough for a throne, behind an elevated desk with a marble top. She is the queen, the divinity, the presiding genius of the fairy place, and attends to its affairs, receiving strangers, directing servants, and arranging accounts, with a grace and promptness that no human being but a French woman could at- tain. This lady sits stately behind her comptoir. Two large silver vases stand in front of her, filled with spoons. At her right hand are several elegant decanters, and at her left a score of silver cups, lumped with sugar. There is, moreover, a little bell within her reach, to summon the garpon, and wide-open before her are the treasury-boxes of the cafe. Her influence, by her graceful pres- ence, tends to refine the whole scene. The lady in question is dressed in exquisite taste, a mellow serenity beams from her coun- tenance, and there is an unconscious dignity and inimitable finesse in her whole bearing, that places her beyond corporeal life. Many a one of these cafe divinities is young and handsome, too, attract- ing thousands who flock thither, first to look at her ; secondly, to talk with her ; and thirdly, to enjoy the delight of sipping Mocha in her presence. You select a large or small table, according as you are alone or with company. It is of white marble, and your seat of rich plush. In a moment the garcon is at you?" elbow ; he inclines to your ear, and catches the word demi-tasse. H»- instantly reappears, and places CAFES OF PARIS. 247 before you a snowy-white cup and saucer, and a little dish contain ing three or four lumps of sugar. Another garcon now appears. In his right-hand is a huge silver pot, covered, and in his left, another of the same material, uncovered. The former contains coffee, the latter, cream. The balmy liquid is clear, strong, and highly con- centrated, and when tempered with the sugar and heated cream, it becomes the finest beverage in the whole world. It agreeably af- fects several of the senses. Its liquid charms the gustatory nerves ; its savor rejoices the olfactory ; while even the eye is delighted with its sparkling hues. Yielding a moment to the pleasures of anticipation, you have time to survey the tout-ensemble of the gar- con. In his sphere he seems to you a beau ideal. His face has a balmy expression that enchants you. His hair is polished into ebon. His cravat is of purest white, and his shirt-bosom is equally elegant. His round-about is the pattern of neatness. Upon his left arm hangs a clean napkin, and his lower extremities are quite wrapped about in a snowy apron. His stockings are white, and he glides about in noiseless pumps. He is a physiognomist of the keenest perceptions, for at your slightest intimation he is at your elbow. To prolong the delight of your cup, you employ the intervals between the sips, in perusing the journals. All the most notable are there ; and by mentioning the name of your preference, it is speedily brought you. Having finished your coffee and journals, you spend a moment or two in surveying the company present. There may be fifty in the room, dressed with elegance and in the highest taste. They converse in a subdued tone, and you may hear all the languages in Europe. Tapping your cup with a piece of coin, the garcon approaches, and taking the money, advances with it towards the dame-du 248 CHESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WOKLD comptoir, saying at the same time, " huit-cent" The dame-du- comptoir abstracts eight sous. The garcon returning your change, invariably looks forward to a small pour-boire for himself. If you leave one sou, he merely inclines his head ; if you leave two, he adds to the inclination a mercie ; finally, if you generously abandon three, he not only bows profoundly, whispering mercie, but respect- fully opens the door to your departing. On going out, you will always look at the lady, and raise your hat. The quiet self- possession with which she responds to your civility informs you that she has bowed to half the coffee-drinkers in Europe. On returning to my lodgings, I passed the door of one of the more common dancing-saloons of the city. Parties were thronging in, some in masquerade, others not ; and I could not resist the temptation to look in upon the sight for a moment. It was the height of the carnival season of Paris ; and, as a consequence, the dancing-rage of this dancing people. They had evidently be- come worked up to the spirit of their favorite exercise ; and a traveller will select the most favorable period for his observations. The admittance was ten cents. The company were entirely young, and of the inferior sort of society. The spacious room was par- tially divided into several compartments, but wide central spaces were left for free communication. The dancing, which was already going on, was energetically brisk. All spaces were quite filled, partly with sets in motion, or lookers-on, standing. The orches- tra, in which violins greatly preponderated, were working their in- struments as if life depended on impetuous movement. They changed their tune often, running through perhaps twenty favorite airs in a single dance. The dancing was even more unique than the music. There were no systematic figures, — but a promiscu- ous assembling and changing, each moving as fancy led. The twirling, spinning, leaping, twisting, gliding across and around each THEATRE FRAXCAIS. 249 other in babel-confusion, but without coming in contact, was fan tastic enough, but not altogether unamusing. Each young man held his female partner firmly in a waltz-like embrace, leading her rapturously into the spirit of the exercise, moving whither whim listed, and changing his step or movement at the caprice of impulse. Indeed, it seemed often to be the part of the beau to surprise the other in some sudden turn of the body, exposing the lady unex- pectedly to some immodest attitude. I more than once detected a crimsoning on the already flushed cheek of some of the fair ones from this cause. There were, however, two or three buxom wenches among the crowd, who vanquished their partners in all their arts, — sometimes turning the joke. The whole scene struck me as inelegant, distasteful and debasing; though, of course, it can- not be mentioned as a specimen of how the divine art is generally practised in the graceful city. Feb. 15th. I spent the day in the " Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers," Rue St. Martin 208. It corresponds, in a measure, to the Patent Office at Washington, presenting an interesting collec- tion of specimens of machines, instruments and tools employed in the various kinds of manufactures and fabrications. It was de- voted in 1798 to the industrial arts, and has since contributed most singularly to their advancement. I observed there, among many other curious and interesting things, a simple, but beautiful mode of representing geometrical solids, by means of thread- wires. By the slight movement of a spring, the form was easily changed. It struck me as an improvement, and deserv- ing of being introduced as a valuable apparatus of the school- room. In the evening, I set off to witness the drama on the great na- tional stage of France, the Theatre Francais. Arriving early, I whiled away the spare moments in making a tour in the square of 250 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. the Palais Royal. The delightful place was filled with groups, promenading, lounging, or reading the journals, hired of the little boutiques, so accommodatingly scattered near all the public prom- enades of the city. Children of the lower class were venting their joyous nature in juvenile sports. Miniature men, they showed the same spirit of rivalry and passion as persons of greater stature. Determined on a choice seat, I was still early in the queue, within the barricade leading to the entrance of the theatre. In the tail were some women, well dressed, but the most respectful de- meanor prevailed. When the door opened we passed in comforta- bly, and I took a richly plushed seat in the parquet, separated only by the distance of a foot, or so, from the narrow space in front appropriated to the nobility. The first play was entitled " The Mother-in-law and the^Son-in- law." It was a pretty piece, and neatly played ; but observing nothing striking in its character or performance, I very happily reserved my admiration for the following play, and with one eye surveyed leisurely the beautiful room and select company. The room, of elliptical form, is surrounded by three rows of Doric columns, grouped in the first row, isolated in the two others. From the centre rises the statue of Yoltaire. Beautiful and ap- propriate carvings, gildings, and frescos, lend a classical elegance and charm to the entire room. The company appeared intellectual and of easy manners, but not extremely dressed. Indeed, their manner and costume bore an elegant negligence, characteristic of the more independent classes. But they practised one custom not easily reconciled with their otherwise evident propriety of de- meanor — that of staring at each other in the intervals of the scenes. For this purpose, each was provided, not with a small, neat, golden-rimmed eye, or quizzing glass, such as may sometimes THEATRE FRANCAIS. 2 51 be seen in the delicate hand of some acknowledged belle, at public assemblies in the U. States, but huge, double-barreled spy-glasses, from two to four inches deep, strongly connected, called lunettes. With this, the double-eyed starer would often stand upon his feet, direct his artificial eyes at different persons in the galleries, sur- veying the company with all the coolness and deliberation of a naval quarter-master. It was a little peculiar to notice luxuriant- looking mammas with their blooming daughters in the galleries, thus broadly gazing at the opposite sex below and around them. A stranger to the practice might have been led to ask himself, if the same action without the lunette would have been considered by these genteel people within the pale of good breeding ? — ! no, indeed ! — but then, it is the fashion, and there is no disputing the empire of so supreme a ruler. The orchestra was small, but apparently extremely select. The performers were all very young, — mere boys, seemingly, — and violins prevailed. The music was consequently soft. They seemed chary of their efforts, favoring the company with but few pieces during the evening, but when they did play, ample amends were made for their silence. I have no words that,— however dexterously placed upon this unsounding sheet, — can more than faintly symbolize its exquisite character — its ecstatic effect upon the heart ! As they struck up, my every nerve was thrilled. The silken, leaping strains came stealing into every pore of my soul. So graceful, so touching, so tremblingly inspiring were the ca- dences, that the music often seemed but the silver echoes of some far off melody. I had never heard anything so fine. Tne second piece was entitled " The Puff, or Mensonge," an inimitable satire upon the amiable and conventional deception per- vading all classes in Paris. It was one of Eugene Scribe's hap- piest efforts, and the public had acknowledged the successful hit 252 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. by giving it a run. I had previously purchased the play, and conned it by heart, with the view the better to mark nice points of pronunciation. I thought I was familiar with its beauties ; but I soon found, that reading a good French play, and hearing it ad- mirably performed, are quite different things. Soon after the performance began, my pencil dropped to the floor, and the printed pamphlet soon followed ; the absorbing interest of the perform- ance holding me quite entranced throughout. I do not know how successful the French are in tragedy, but I am sure that in the higher comedy they are inimitable, and beyond praise. The fe- licities of thought are so intermingled with felicities of language, as not to be peaceably divorced. There is, moreover, in the style of the performance a piquancy, a raciness that is quite enchant- ing. In this play, each of the artistes seemed a star, and went through his part with a propriety, ease and self-possession, truly wonderful. I have seen nothing, at all to be compared to it, in a similar performance in any other nation. The whole scene was to me a beau ideal of genteel discourse and elegant manners, en- livened with the most pleasingly pointed wit. The costume of the players was the perfection of simple ele- gance. There was not throughout the entire performance a single posture or gesture, that would not have graced the most fash- ionable and elegant saloon ; and, with a single exception, not a word or phrase that would have offended the most fastidiously modest ear. The whole scene was thoroughly divested of the rant, the strut, the affectation of manner and language, the leers of double-meaning, the coarse wit and artificial tone which charac- terize our American boards, and render, with us, the theatre intol- erable even to the passionate lover of the drama. I left strongly impressed with the beautiful picture of French character embodied in French forms, French voices, and French gestures; but I re« LECTURES AT THE SORBONNE. 253 juembered that this was the Royal Theatre, and that the purity and excellence of its performance might be traced to the refined and elevated taste of the family of Louis Phillippe. Feb. 17th. I spent most of the time of the preceding two days in attendance upon the lectures at the Sorbonne. These lectures are in the same style of perfection in which everything is done in Paris. The lecturers, who are professors, are chosen from among the most eminent men in their several walks of learning. They are furnished every facility for perfecting their knowledge, and allowed every means for illustrating their subjects. The courses cannot, therefore, but prove highly instructive, powerfully interesting, and deeply valuable. They are, also, entirely free. Hence, the rooms are thronged with eager students from all parts of the world. One of the most interesting of these lectures was upon the life and character of Christopher Columbus. I had read any number of accounts of the world-renowned Genoese before, but it is need- less to add, that I received a clearer perception of his life, and a higher appreciation of his character from the hands of the French historian. The noble discoverer received, without doubt, a well- merited tribute to his transcendent genius, unparalleled daring, unconquerable perseverance, humane spirit, and generous and lovely qualities of heart ; but it was the way in which the subject was treated which gave the discourse its peculiar power and beauty. The plan was so perfect and so scrupulously adhered to, the principles of action were so philosophically developed, the va- rious adventures and incidents were so artistically grouped, the propitious circumstances so consummately arranged, and the whole enlivened with such matchless felicities of thought and expression, as to form a bright, living picture, — distinct, vivid, glowing ; de- lighting the taste and fancy, and filling the heart with good and noble aspirations. 22 254 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. Another, more striking still, was by M. Frank. His course was upon the modern social systems, and the one I heard, upon that of the celebrated Fourier. WheriTX entered, the room was crowded. Lively expectation was depicted on every countenance. In a moment, the lecturer darted in, and instantly was in his seat, speaking. A burst of fervent but subdued applause greeted his entrance. He was comparatively a young man, — his talents and industry having evidently outstripped his age, and brought him in favor with the government. His attenuated limbs revealing a form bringing to mind shapen bundles of nerves, — the long, skinny fingers of the hand, the sharp, nervous features of the face, an eye beaming with the very soul of genius, and the whole person gently agitated with a nervous tremor, as if invested with a halo of thought, gave to his appearance a vivid impressiveness that en- chained the attention, and heightened the effect of his eloquence. As the first word dropped from his lips, there was a hush of still- ness that no eager interest and expectation could have surpassed : and, to the end, all was keen and breathless attention, save when a gleam of attic wit arrowed forth from the address ; and then, the momentary excitation it produced was so brief, so suddenly re- pressed, as to show that each felt fearful of allowing a single word to escape, which would be like the loss of an irreplaceable pearl in a priceless coronet. His enunciation was most distinct, though his cadences were uniform and almost unvaried. He never hesi- tated for a moment, nor repeated himself, but marched right on with a steady, equable movement, resembling that of a train of cars at a distance, passing over a gently undulating surface. But the peculiar fascination and power of his style lay in the wonderful concentration and concatenation of thought, and the matchless vivacity with which the ideas glowed and sparkled in the mind's eye of the listener. In this respect, his discourse was a FREE LECTURES 255 strongly hammered chain, of which, each link was intensely welded, and the whole polished into the brightness of silver. It seized at once your mind, rivetted it by the force of association, and bore it through the argument with the involuntary power of natural Imv, and with the delectable grace of matchless harmony. Every word was so fitly chosen that its sound, even, echoed forth its sense and lent additional force to the beauty of the thought, — forming a mental picture vivid and delightful. There was something, moreover, in the very dignity and grace of the movement, — the power and felicitation of the mien, — a kind of radiant lustre, drawing in, and charming your faculties, keeping the soul in an unceasing titillation of delight. The system of Fourier was dissected with a consummation that made you tremble. You felt that it were terrible to fall under the knife of such an anatomist. The flesh was parted, the bones dis- jointed, the marrow penetrated, — even the invisible soul scanned with an eye of fire, and a hand of deathless energy. Although the entire discourse was characterized by the very spirit of truthful- ness and impartiality, yet there was such an inimitable skill dis- played in tracing the juxtapositions and inductions of the author, and in detecting the invisible discrepancies of his subtle philoso- phy, that the great socialist was often seen in a light that irresisti- bly moved you to pity or laughter. The hour's entertainment was more than an intellectual* feast, — it was a spiritualized banquet ; and on leaving, I began to un- derstand the meaning of the glowingly expectant look of the audience when I entered. CHAPTER XIX. 3 EN. SCOTT UNDER ARREST — PUBLIC OPINION OMNIPOTENT IN THE UNITED STATES — AN AMBIGUOUS CHARACTER — PARISIAN MORALS — LOVELESS MARRIAGES — LEFT-HAND MARRIAGES — LEGALIZED VICE — OPEN PROSTITUTION — HOSPICE DAC - COUCHEMENT — HOSPICES DES ENFANS TROUVERS — CAUSES, ETC. — MANUFACTORY FOR THE CROWN TAPESTRY — PALAIS ROYALE — SUMPTUOUS INTERIOR SPLENDID GARDEN — CHAPEL OF ST. FERDINAND. The French Journals mentioned, to-day, the trial of Gen- eral Scott in Mexico, — the scientific, the gallant commander-in- chief of our armies, whose consummate military skill, crowned with splendid victories, had extorted warm eulogies from many eminent military men of Europe, under arrest, and being tried by a court composed of his inferior officers ! The bare idea was enough to arouse the indignation of an American abroad ! What strange vagary of Fame and Fortune was this ! The Americans were severely condemned, of course, by the Eng- lish and European press, for the Mexican war ; and what was really unjust, a sentiment of unscrupulous aggression attributed to the whole nation, — which, if it existed at all, was shared only by a part, and perhaps a minority, of the nation. But when our armies, under their skilful leaders, began to shed glory even upon the Anglo-Saxon race, and writers abroad were lavish of their praise of Yankee capability, one began to have a self-gratulatory GENERAL SCOTT. 257 feeling, that tardy justice was being done to the genius of our re- public. But here was being enacted a drama so farcical in idea, as to make one doubt if the whole account given of those proudly martial deeds enacted in gorgeous Mexico, were not some splendid illusion created by that enchantment to which distance is said to give rise. It was not enough that the glorious old Taylor, after un- furling and carrying steadily forward against odds, the banner of his countrymen, and in an urgent crisis, shorn of the flower of his force, should be left unintentionally to deepen the dye of his immor- tality in a battle which brings to mind that of Thermopylae of old ; but here was Scott himself, who had marched through the renowned strongholds of Mexico, with a Napoleon-like rapidity of execution, and planted his standard in the very square surrounded by the halls of the Montezumas, all at once shorn of his lofty plumes, snatched defyingly away from the magnificent halo by which he was a moment before surrounded, and treated like any humble mortal. Well, it may have the effect to show to Europeans, what it seems quite difficult for them to understand, namely, that in the United States public opinion is omnipotent, — and that talents never so great, genius never so resplendent, or services never so glorious, cannot screen a man from the closest scrutiny of the pub- lic eye, or prevent his being called to the bar of popular judgment. In going to my lodgings to-night, I was equivocally accosted in a delicately coaxing tone and manner, by a young woman, whr appeared as if just issuing from an obscure court. Without be- stowing upon her further attention than a furtive glance, just to scan truthfully her features and person, she did not, however, re- peat her intimations. She was neatly but rather gaily attired. Her countenance, which was mild, and not altogether unpleasing, was marked with no obvious trace of a feeling of shame or guilt. This comparatively unimportant incident would hardly be wortr 22* 258 CKESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. recording, but as being suggestive of a topic, which, if obnoxious to an zm-senile modesty, has yet so fundamental a bearing upon the socially moral condition of a nation, as to claim the attention of the traveller who would impart valuable information touching the people about whom he undertakes to write. If we were to credit the statements of some English tourists of name, we should be left to form a sad picture of the social morals of Paris. But it should be borne in mind, that travellers who are capable of giving to the public distorted views of society in the United States, would hardly be less reckless or prejudiced in their portraitures of a people against whom deep enmity has be- come firmly rooted by ages of war, rivalry, and the more irrecon- cilable influence still, of diverse natures. Yet, however overshaded these pictures may have been, through the prejudice and enmity of a certain class of travellers, still the truth would make them dark enough to be greatly de- plored. It must be admitted, in the first place, that the holy institution of marriage is neither regarded nor observed in France with that feeling of pure, single devotion, which its sacredly important na- ture claims. Not that there are no exceptions to this remark. Indeed, I was informed by reliable gentlemen, foreigners, who had resided a long time in Paris and in the country, that in their de- liberate opinion, in no other country could be found so beautiful instances of conjugal fidelity, or strong domestic affections ; and that in this respect, the best French society is a delightful picture of what is most charming in domestic life. Still, it is most noto- rious that the violation of marriage and chastity are tolerated with a facility in France not done in England nor in the United States. It might be no easy task to trace all the causes that have contrib- uted to form this ungracious feature in the national character ; but MARRIAGES OF CONVENIENCE. 25£ \ among them may be enumerated the ardor of temperament and the facility of the French character, modified by climate, scenery, and a class of associations adapted to fire the imagination ; the sensitive nature of the French taste, which repels the object of its adoration with the same vehemence that once attracted it ; the ir- resistible influence of licentious courts and dissolute nobilities ; the corrupting agency of a vitiated literature, by which genius, wedded to a classical power by the most fascinating approaches, has poisoned the well-springs of innocent thought ; the removal, for a time, from the conscience, the sacred weight of Divine obli- gation, by the abrogation of a national religion. But a more pal- pable cause may doubtless be found in those ever-to-be-accursed unions called manage de convenance, or as appropriately, loveless marriages, so common among the middling and higher classes of society. These are usually contracted by the parents, or even by the parties themselves, in view of the eligibility of the match, and with little or no regard to the affections of the parties, or even consulting their tastes and dispositions. Where there is but one true marriage, and that the union of sentiment, the reciprocal bap- tism of the affections, the magic welding of heart and heart, all such sordid arrangements as manages de convenance, whether in France or elsewhere, could not be expected to yield else than bit- ter fruits. Indeed, fidelity could not be expected, if it should be desired, amid the damps of such prison mildew. It were almost cruel thus to bind the tender, the susceptible heart, yearning for a spiritual congeniality in which to lave its sickened life. Hence, marriage in France is but too often an endorsed apology for free- dom according to fancy. Indeed, a married lady is almost ex- pected to have her private lover ; and this barely clandestine com- merge has become so completely established in the mind of society as to have begot certain rules of observance — a kind of principle 2G0 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. of honor — which would seem not unlike that noble quality said to exist among thieves. Somewhat akin to this mode of wedded life, and infinitely more reasonable, as well as fruitful of conjugal felicity, are those tem- porary liasons or mariages de St. Jacques, better known to the English reader as left-handed marriages. In a country where fortunes are for the most part small, and where the precariousness of remunerative employment does not permit the masses of the poor easily to encounter the obligations of family, marriages must have their limits. A vast variety of single ladies, therefore, without fortunes, still remain, many of whom are naturally led to be guilty of the indiscretion of a lover, though they have no husband to deceive. They are wont to take upon themselves an affection, to which they remain faithful so long as the intimacy lasts. Many respectable young men, merchants, lawyers, etc., of moderate in- comes, live until they are rich enough to marry, in some connection of this description. Sanctioned by custom, these unions of expe- diency are to be found with a certain respectability belonging to them, in all walks of life. The working classes, in particular, have their somewhat famous mariages de St. Jacques, which, among themselves, at least, are highly respectable. The laborer and washerwoman, for instance, find it cheaper and more comfortable to take a room together. They rent a chamber, put in their joint furniture (one bed answers for both), a common menage and purse are established, and the couple's affection endures at least as long as their lease. Another institution still lower in the scale of moral delinquen- cies, is the system of legalized public prostitution existing in Paris. This is not peculiar to Paris, but exists in common in the cities of Europe ; and the Parisian will urge that it was not intended to sanction vice, but only to regulate what must necessarily exist HOSPICES DES ACCOUCHEMENT^ 261 etill it can justly be objected, that the very fact of its being brought under the wing of the police, and regulated as are respectable in- stitutions, gives the sanction of the government to the vice. The authority of law steps in to break down that acute and profound sense of morality which with us banishes from society, without the possibility of restoration, the female who has committed decidedly one false step. The public sense of morality is necessarily brought down by publicly trafficking with vice. Whatever conveniences the system may have, its effect upon the public mind cannot but be evil. Then there is the abandoned class of females who seek a clan- destine commerce. Although they are much less seen by the cursory observer, than even in the large cities of England and America, still their number doubtless is quite large. As a finishing-stroke to the above-named customs, and without which they could not flourish luxuriantly and with grace, come in the establishments termed Hospices des Accouchements and Hospices des Enfans trouves. The former, or lying-in hospitals, may be seen with emblazoned signs in various parts of the city. They furnish secret and comfortable resorts, where women enciente may find, for a moderate price, the best of care and treatment, until they are suf- ficiently restored from the ills and danger of child-bed, — the lat- ter, or foundling-hospital, where infants whose parents are willing or necessitated to abandon them, are placed, to be taken care of at the public charge. Here, these little government-adoptives are nursed, nurtured, aft*d afterwards distributed about the country to learn useful branches of industry. Many of them do well. This establishment, as well as many others of the hospitals of Paris, is under the care of the Sisters of Charity, whose self-sacrificing benevolence is justly a theme of praise. The founder of the lat- ter establishment was St. Vincent de Paul. He commenced by 262 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. seeking out the abandoned children of the city. These institutions, divide the opinion of travellers. A stern moralist, regarding their little inmates as the fruits of illicit love, would be apt to look upon the system with horror. A practical man, viewing society as it is, might come to a different conclusion. He would, at least, see in the institution, the means of saving a vast amount of life, and of ameliorating much human suffering. That they prevent a great amount of infanticide, cannot be questioned ; but that they facili- tate the crime they are designed to ameliorate, admits neither of doubt. In estimating the state of morality in the nation, Paris must not be taken as a faithful index of the entire country ; for, however true the remark, that Paris is France in politics, the capital can by no means be given as a measure of the nation's morals. There are several causes that have powerfully operated to render Paris peculiar in its moral and social tone. The religious sentiment which was extinguished from view in Paris, has ever preserved at least a glimmering in the Provinces. Paris, like ancient Rome, is the receptacle of much of the inflammable elements of Euro- pean society. The rich of the nations of the world throng there for pleasure, and seek much of that pleasure in vice. The cen- tralization of the government of France, concentrates its principal functionaries in the capital, many of whom become in time mere pensioned voluptuaries. The principal youth of the country, belonging to the rich, as well as many from abroad, resort to Paris for their education ; while thousands flock thither for employment in shops, warehouses, and offices. Some seventy or eighty thousand troops are always present in the city and vicinity. The desperate in fortune, or ruined in reputation, eagerly resort to the capital, the former like vampires to prey upon society, and the latter to retreat from the MORALS OF PARIS. 263 circle in which they had been known, and to sink lower in the depths of degradation. Yet, notwithstanding these hot-bed influences of moral disease in France, and more especially in Paris, illegitimacy there is, ac- cording to an intelligent traveller, Professor Laing, more rare than even in Prussia. The easy footing upon which society stands and moves in Paris, arrests with agreeable surprise the attention of the traveller. The stranger there enjoys unusual freedom to go whither he pleases, and do as he will, by preserving the grace of politeness. The modest manners of the French women are proverbial. They are a fragrant theme of general praise. The delightful vir- tue is seen both in their bearing and dress. Whatever immorality may exist in private, scarcely a vestige of it is exposed to public gaze. External decency, at least, prevails to a degree not else- where to be found. A stranger would never see in the streets of Paris an instance of the unblushing shamelessness, the utter deg- radation, that shocks the stranger in the streets of London, at al* most every step, after nine o'clock at night. This exquisite deco- rum of mien which pervades all classes, from the voluptuous queen of the ambiguous saloon, to the washerwoman of the Seine, gild- ing society with a rosy tint of lustre, may be traced, in part at least, to the peculiar sentiment of virtue which exists. Not being considered a crime as much as elsewhere, incontinence does not bring down the mind to the level of crime. It is looked upon more as a matter of taste ; and the fair one guilty of indiscretion, not being rejected from society, does not lose her self-respect, but evinces in all her intercourse, the usual amenities of polite and dignified life. In this respect it must be confessed that the French are cer- tainly more consistent than are we. We tolerate in mtn a vice 264 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. which we unmitigatingly punish in woman, by banishing her en iirely from the pale of decent society. The French, more just> sxtend the same privilege to both sexes. I visited on February 19 th, the celebrated manufactory for the Crown Tapestry. It is the most magnificent establishment of the kind in France, if not in Europe. Carpets are made here, which, in elegance, in correctness of design, choice and variety, rival those produced even in Persia in her palmiest days. Some of these costly floor-coverings, of no more than medium size, were valued as high as three thousand dollars. It is evident that only kings, princes, and millionaires can possess so expensive luxuries to grace the tread of the feet. Numerous artisans were closely engaged in their indefatigable labors. The warp of the carpet was stretched in a perpendicular frame, and the filling was woven in with the fingers and a bodkin. The process is thus necessarily slow, tedious, and even painful. Hence the enormous cost of the fabrication. The gorgeousness of the fabric was beautifully heightened by the brilliant lustre of the colors imparting to it an almost dazzling splendor. But the most interesting and wonderful application of the art consists in transferring pictures, painted upon canvas, to tapestry, and preserving, with exact faithfulness, the lineaments and shading of the original. Indeed, the transfer is so exact, that you would distinguish no difference between them, except that the copy bears the lifelike freshness of an improved edition. The process with the artisan, it is evident, is almost entirely mechanical ; but it implies a nice discrimination in colors, and an exquisite skill of execu- tion, acquired only by long practice. The art is valuable as a means of wresting, from the hands of time, fading gems of the old masters. I noticed several portraits, thus transferred, of members of the late royal family ; and I should never have known, without PALACE ROYAL. 265 a close inspection, but that they were vivid paintings upon canvas. A very paternal measure passed to-day in the Chamber of Peers, after a discussion, animated to a degree not usual in that body, — regulating the labor of the working classes. According to the provisions of the bill, children cannot be permitted to labor in manufacturing establishments, under eight years of age ; and be- tween that period and twelve, they must not be employed more than eight hours in a day ; and adults cannot be employed more than twelve hours. It is wise, as well as benevolent in the gov- ernment thus to protect short-sighted indigence from the reckless rapacity of mammon. Sunday, 20th, After services at the Oratoire, I made a visit to the Palace Royal. Sunday is the day, par excellence, for visiting the palaces and other public monuments of Paris ; and I found the interior thronged with visitors of every class of society. The largest part of the company, however, were well-dressed and in- telligent looking ladies and gentlemen of the traveller type ; and I heard some half a dozen different languages. It is called the Palace Royal because Louis XIV. lived here in his youth. Its construction was commenced by the Cardinal Richelieu, who improved and adorned it by degrees as his fortune improved, until he judged it not unworthy to be presented to the splendid monarch, Louis XIV, which he did in a testament at his death. The king bequeathed it, in his turn, to his brother, the Duke of Orleans, from whom it descended to the late Louis Phil- lippe, and was occupied by the latter as a private residence, but furnished in a style of royal magnificence. A beautiful stairway leads to the first stage, which is divided into three apartments, namely, those of the centre, occupied by ♦lie late king and queen before 1830 ; the apartments of the left, 23 266 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. appropriated to Madame Adelaide, the sister of the king ; thoss of the right, destined for the prince royal. The left-wing compri- ses a vast dining-room, several grand saloons, and beautiful cabi- nets. The centre includes the saloon for the aids-de-camp, that of reception, the cabinet of the king, the apartment of the queen, and the hall of the throne. A magnificent gallery leading to the apartment of the late Duke of Orleans, occupies a part of the left- wing. The library, situated on the same side, is placed partly in the niterstole and partly in the first stage. We were conducted through the palace by neatly liveried hus- siers, who seemed impressed with the dignity of their office. The rooms were nearly destitute of carpets and furniture ; but enough furnishing remained to show the former sumptuousness. The hall of the throne, in particular, was very rich. The floor, of hard- wood, was so smoothly polished as to make it necessary to walk with care. The ceilings were richly painted and gilded. The walls of the several apartments were adorned with paint- ings ; some of them possessing rare merit. Among the historical pieces, were Julius Cesar going to the Senate, The Victory of Marathon, William Tell jumping out of the boat with Gesler, and several more modern scenes, in which Maria Theresa, of Austria, figures conspicuously. She is represented in attitudes expressive of strong emotion and intense energy. There are, besides, several portraits of distinguished personages ; among them, those of Na- poleon, Charles V, Madame de Stael, J. J. Rousseau, and the sev- eral members of the family of Louis Phillippe. But what attracts more attention at the present time is the gar- den, with the exterior gallery of the palace. The beautiful en- closure formerly occupied a larger area than at present; as it comprehended, besides the present garden, the streets of Valois, de Montspensier, and de Beaujolais, as well as that spacp *"-'W oc CHAPEL )F Si'. FERDINAND. 267 cupied by the sides of the Palais, which have been more recently built. It was adorned with an alley of mulberry trees, which alone cost the Cardinal Richelieu sixty thousand dollars ; but the old revo- lution destroyed them. The place was once infamous for its gambling-houses, and the throngs of doubtful characters that swarmed in it of an evening ; but the late government banished these, and the galleries are now occupied with brilliant cafes, and small, but magnificent bazaars. These are the fashionable shops of the city ; and they are rich and beautiful beyond description. All that can tempt the luxurious, or please the vain ; whatever can inspire admiration for the industry of man, for his exquisite taste ; his creating genius ; his skill in producing the elegant, the beautiful, the magnificent ; in fine, whatever can delight the eye, captivate the senses, or add charms to beauty, are here displayed. One of these small shops rents for three or four thousand francs a year. The chairs, alone, placed in the garden for the con- venience of loungers, are said to give a revenue of eighty thou- sand francs. To see this enchanting spot in all its brilliancy you should go at night, when countless lamps pour floods of light through its delicious gardens and long arcades ; when its walks are alive with gay promenaders, and its multitude of shops, cafes, and offices are in the full tide of business. It is then, indeed, a scene resplendent with gaiety, bustle and animation. After finishing the tour of the Palais Royale, I made a visit to the Chapel of St. Ferdinand. This beautiful edifice was erected some eight years ago, to mark the spot and event of the death of the Duke d'Orleans, the eldest son of Louis Phillippe, and heir apparent to the throne of France. In returning home from an afternoon drive, his horses became restive and unmanageable, and leaping from his carriage he fell and fractured his skull, — sensi bility was destroyed, and after two or three hours, death ensued. 2G8 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. The event was the more affecting, as the disposition and high and noble qualities of the prince made him not only greatly beloved of his family, but rendered him a favorite with the entire nation. The estate was purchased by the king, and on the very spot where he died, this chapel was erected. It is a gem of architec- ture — the exterior tasteful, and the interior simple. A narrow space, beautifully laid out, and adorned with a triple row of Ar- borvitse trees, leads to the entrance. On the right-hand side of the chapel, at entering, on a pedestal, is a full length statue of the dying prince, with his head lying at the feet of the figure of an angel stretching out her hands in the posture of devotion. Two clocks are in one of the rooms, — one of which marks the hour when the accident happened ; the other, when the duke expired. Over the altar is a beautiful statue of the Virgin and Child. De- scending a few steps, you come to a room which marks the exact spot where the prince expired. Here is a large and striking painting of the whole group brought together by that event. The livid features and unearthly expression of the dying man, are represented with fearful truthfulness. The queen is kneeling, with her head inclined upon his side ; the king, too, is kneeling at his feet, with an expression of mute, but profound grief; two of the brothers and two of the sisters are standing near ; the priest is administering unction to the dying man, and some of the king's ministers and attendants are in the back-ground. As a work of art the painting did not strike me as of peculiar merit ; but its appropriateness for recalling the sad event is extremely effective. CHAPTER XX. *HE GRAND BANQUET AT PARIS — OPINIONS OF TEE APPRO 1CH- ING CRISIS — THE GLOOMY EVE OF THE FATED MORROW — SUDDEN TACKING OF THE SHIP OF STATE — MENTAL SCENES IN THE BOSOM OF THE GOVERNMENT — MADAME THE DUCHESS OF ORLEANS — MONSIEUR GUIZOT — PARIS IN A POSTURE OF DEFENCE — THRILLING SCENES OF THE 22D — THE RIOTERS CHARGED IN THE CHAMPS ELYSEES. To-day, that is, Sunday, 20th, was at first appointed for the holding of the Banquet in Paris ; but the leaders changed the time to Tuesday, 22d, because that on Sunday and Monday the la- boring classes being at liberty, would be present in greater numbers, and thus increase the probability of a disturbance. The place of holding it, too, was changed from one of the most frequented parts of Paris, to the grounds of a wealthy gentleman in the Champs At this time, the Parisian public seemed not to be particularly engrossed with the serious nature of the approaching event, or much anxious about the consequences to which it might give birth. The press, it is true, had pretty freely discussed the matter, — but the public mind had become quite used to inflammatory addresses. Besides, the tone of the press had lowered its pitch within a few days, and assumed something of a temperate and sincere style. This, to a sagacious and penetrating mind, was ominous of a con- viction on the part of the leaders of the press, of the fearful nature 23* 270 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. of the pending controversy; but to the unreflecting masses, it served to dissipate the impression of danger. It was reported that English travellers tarrying in Paris, had taken occasion to leave ; and that great numbers of English families residing in Paris, had precipitately removed away ; but the trepidation which the Eng- lish are wont to show on the slightest rumor of a political disturb- ance in Paris, sufficiently explained that act. These were mere eddies in the stream of Parisian opinion. The general current of trade and pleasure rolled on with its wonted volume and velocity. I had endeavored to ascertain the state of private opinion, as to the result of the coming Banquet, by questioning freely persons of different classes of society. My teacher himself, a member of the National Guard, confidently looked forward to a collision with the populace, and a consequent revolution, in which he would ar- dently engage against the government. To my expression of doubt of the merest probability of his party's success, against the powerful army of the government, with an air of assurance he quickly replied, "Nous verrons" " We shall see." The shop- keepers seemed too much engrossed in their trade to have given the subject much attention, and would not venture on an opinion. The teachers were of deliberate opinion, that there prevailed an extensive and deep opposition among the mass of the population, but that the government was too strongly entrenched behind its ram- part of cannon and bayonet, to admit of the possibility of a serious disturbance. The broker and his lady who weekly exchanged a gold-piece for me, looked up in my face with a half-abstracted, half- inquiring air, as if they had given no subject attention, except the table of weights and measures. My graceful landlady was certain there would be no alarming trouble. The speeches and talk that had been made, were mere gasconade, and would all end in smoke, — but then she was the mistress of a hotel with rooms GRAND BANQUET AT PARIS. 271 to let. There was residing just across the way, nearly opposite to my hotel, a young man, the keeper of a little, meagre shop, for second-hand boots and shoes. He was a frank, generous, buoyant spirit, full of poetry and a love of adventure, and possessed withal deeply of that true nonchalance which sets so gracefully upon cer- tain styles of character. I sought frequent conversations with him, not only for the amusement they afforded me, but because he was a representative of a large class of Parisians who are only satisfied with their present condition, because they cannot do bet- ter ; who, in a revolution, have nothing to lose, and everything to gain ; who ever thirst for a scene, and will fight for the gratifi- cation which the excitement produces. These are ever eager for a change of scenery, and rush deliriously forward to whatever promises stirring and brilliant achievements. They may be found among the foremost at the barricades, fighting desperately, but without as much aim as the school-boy who defends to the last a ruthless attack upon a snow-fort. In a recent interview with him, something like the following conversation ensued : " "Well," said I, " you are going to have a great time in Paris, next Tuesday." " Yes, I hear of such talk." " Shall you be at the Banquet? " " Without doubt. I am always among the crowd." " In case of a collision, would you fight ? " " That would depend how I should feel, sir." On the Monday evening his humble shop was closed, nor did ) see it open again. Whether he stayed among the crowd that found a common grave, or not, it would not be easy for me to say. A few doors from me was a variety store, kept by an aged lady and her two only children, a boy about seventeen, and a girl perhaps sixteen. The woman was one of those remarkable per- 272 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. sonages occasionally to be met with in all countries, who are liv- ing encyclopedias of general and particular information. Her chapter on the life and pedigree of distinguished persons, was as full and interesting as that of any other subject ; and she narrated to me with great minuteness whatever it was desirable to know of the entire family of Louis Phillippe. She lived in Paris during the old Revolution, was imprisoned, had been an eye-witness of some of the most thrilling and awful scenes that occurred then, and had taken place since ; and she had, as might be expected, whole volumes to unfold, of the unparalleled events of those times. Her earnest manner and pathos of tone, gave a curdling vividness to the scenes she depicted. She felt certain that the approaching banquet would be the means of a bloody revolution. She knew the French character too well, and had watched the current of events too closely to doubt of that. She earnestly ad- vised me, nay implored me, if I valued my life, or regarded the feelings of my family or friends, to lose no time in quitting the city ; for, said she, although the Americans would not knowingly be harmed if they should not engage in the combat, still in such frightful times no one is safe. Her children, however, did not share her fears. They were light-hearted and sportive spirits, and would caper round the store, and hang upon their mother in frolicsome glee, like playful kittens. The young man positively threatened to leave for the thickest of the fight, on the first notice of an out- break, — and with wooden sword and cockade cap, and serio-comic air, strutted the Napoleon ; while his sister would second his far- cical acts by playing the part of Maria Theresa of Austria, in some of the dramatic scenes of that heroine. Feb. %\st. The morrow of this day was appointed for the great banquet. Anxiety was visible during the day in the countenances of all. The feeling was less profound, however, as it was gene* THE BANQUET FORBIDDEN. 273 rally understood that there existed a tacit agreement between th( Government and the Opposition, that the former would place m obstacle to the holding of the banquet, but would content itself bj merely contesting the legality of the act in the highest judicial court of the nation. In that case, there could be no serious cause of alarm. Any disturbance would be the merely casual one growing out of the igniting force of numbers, and easily subdued by the police or national guards. But late in the afternoon, the government suddenly tacked the ship of state, by resolving to forbid the assembling of the banquet, except the members of the Chamber of Deputies, and to employ the iron force of the State to secure the obedience to its decrees. This decision was announ- ced in the Chamber of Deputies by M. Guizot, the prime minister, and head and front of the offending government. In an incredible short space of time afterwards, this decree was posted up all over the city ; and government officers on horseback were sweeping through the streets in every direction, evidently in the fulfilment of weighty missions. The tone of the decree was severe and deci- ded. It permitted the members of the Chamber of Deputies to Assemble, but they must hold themselves in readiness to retire on the fiist summons of the government. All other citizens were forbidden to be present, on severe penalties ; and it wound up with this firm language : " And the government shall know how to execute its requirements." As might be expected, this sudden political turn struck the Op- position perfectly aghast, and threw them into the greatest embar- rassment. It was as unexpected as irritating. Lamartine, in- spired with a prescience, arose, and in one of those sublime bursts of eloquence for which he is so distinguished, broke forth in the following noble exclamation : " By this arbitrary act the government has placed its hand upon the mouth of the nation ; 271 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. be the consequences of its guilt upon its own head." But what course should they adopt ? To deliberate upon the policy best to be pursued, and concert a plan of action, a number of the Opposition members immediately held a private meeting. The situation in which they were thus un- expectedly thrown, was indeed embarrassing. Either of the two alternatives presented them was sufficiently desperate or humilia- ting. To persist in holding the banquet, would be to provoke a bloody conflict, and accept the appalling horrors of a revolution by force of arms. To retreat before the menace of the govern- ment, would be to betray the confidence of the republican party, and annihilate its name. About two hundred members of every shade were present. The discussion was long and ardent, and the opinions diverse. As bitter as it was for all, moderate counsels, however, prevailed ; and in a note which appeared in one of the evening journals, signed by some of the leading Deputies, the Op- position made known its resolution to its constituents : " Although," said they, " we are protected in our capacity of Deputies, yet we cannot take the responsibility of the evils that would fall upon those who might be induced to join us, nor the results that would follow to the country. We shall, therefore, stay at home ; and we advise all good citizens to do the same." When late in the afternoon, the news first spread through the city, that the government had determined to put down the banquet by force of arms, every heart was filled with anxiety and dread. All countenances bore a sad and boding expression. About dusk, at the corners of streets or in by-lanes, might be seen men dressed in blouses, gathered in knots, with sinister faces, in a low tone ominously discussing the posture of affairs, or tearing down tne government decrees, while muttering execrations against M. Guizot and his government. But when later in the evening, the THE GATHERING STORM. 275 decision of the Opposition to retire was made known, the public anxiety was a good deal relieved. Still, there was an instinctive feeling, that affairs had already proceeded too far now to be quietly adjusted. The government, by its vacillation and perfidy, had, in the minds of the masses, added contempt to hatred. The Oppo- sition, by its humane and self-sacrificing spirit to spare the blood of the citizens, had enkindled an enthusiasm of admiration and sympathy. The extensive preparations for the banquet were all completed. Delegates and gentlemen from the provinces and cities of France, had already arrived by thousands, to participate in the festival. The unbounded love of the Parisians for magnifi- cent spectacles had become excited. All these causes added to that principle of human nature which ill brooks a severe disap- pointment, and that impulse of desire and determination which arbitrary opposition lends, would, it was justly feared, give a per- sistence and recklessness to the passions of the populace, that nothing short of bloodshed would stifle. The reason offered by the government for its sudden change of determination at so late an hour was, that the Opposition, by in- viting large numbers of the National Guards to be present, al- though without arms, had given to the occasion an unusual, if not a suspicious feature, which required to be checked. All felt, how- ever, that this was a mere pretext, and that the true reason arose from the alarm which the unusual enthusiasm for the banquet had excited in the Parisian populace, as well as in the country gen- erally. This was the posture of affairs, when night enshrouded the city with a darkness increased by the momentous impending crisis. What were the mental scenes that the night gave birth to, at the palace, and in the bosom of the government ! Subsequent events have thrown some light upon these. The king affected to despise 276 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. the elements of hostility which were arraying themselves against his power. He would fain trust in his star, in the devotion of the army commanded by the princes, his sons, — in his majority in the chambers, in the skill of his adroit ministers, in the vast manufac- turing and commercial interests which always fear a revolution ; — . still, in reality, it was evident that he was not without a mental trepidation ; a vertigo of mind seemed to have come over him. The address with which for so long a time he had ruled France, and in some measure Europe, had at last forsaken him. This was evident from the uncalled-for language of the crown address, and his shifting course in respect to the banquets. In truth, the king had become old, and, though not wanting in bravery, had lost in a measure that persistence of will which sustains more youthful men in trying scenes. He had ever before his eyes the fate of Charles X, as well as that of the predecessors of that monarch. The terrible scenes of the revolution of ' 89 continually haunted his imagination. He well knew the combustible character of a portion of the Parisian population. Should an outbreak arrive, his humane heart would revolt at reacting the horrid part of the youthful Napoleon, and flooding the streets of Paris with the blood of its citizens. But after all, would his army certainly stand by him ? Might they not in the trying hour hesitate to shed the blood of fathers, brothers, or lovers in a war against their own, and human rights ? Of the possible disaffection of the army, unfortu- nately for the peace of the king, he had received already some intimation from one of his trusty-hearted generals. At this stage of the imminent crisis undoubtedly the king would have willingly yielded to the desire of the nation for a new ministry. But that step it was now too late to take with safety. It might have been done with great good fortune, to the royal cause, at an earlier ptage, when it would have seemed to be a gift of clemency, and DUCHESS OF ORLEANS 277 respect to the national will ; but given out now, the king could not fail to perceive that it would be regarded as a right wrested from arbitrary power, paving the way for greater ancf more humiliating concessions. The queen shared the mental agitation of the king. Passion- ately devoted to her husband, as wife and mother, and arrived ai that advanced age of life when repose and tranquillity are so grateful to the human soul, when the grandeur of human ambition has lost its charm, she naturally thought more of the king's safety and the repose of his government, than of any advantage that might be gained in attempting to check the inroads of democratical influence. She, therefore, supplicated the king to grant to the. Opposition their demands for the right to hold banquets, and to form a new ministry whose views should be more in accordance with the national will. There was still another personage in the royal mansion, no in- different spectator to the thickening scene of events. It was Madame, the Duchess of Orleans. She had been a widow about six years ; her universally beloved husband was killed from a frac- ture, occasioned by an accidental fall, in jumping out of his carriage. The oldest of her two sons, the Count of Paris, now eight years of age, was the direct heir to the throne. With all the depth of a mother's affection, and the lofty ambition of a princess of the blood, the powers of her maternal soul were concentrated upon her dear boy, whom it had been the solace of her deep affliction to render worthy of the most splendid crown of Europe. The king and queen were soon to go the way of all the earth, where browns lose their lustre ; but here were beings just ascending the arch-way of the future. Life, in its fascinating power, was broad before them. With the mental quickness of a woman, and the keen sagacity of a princess, she perceived at a glance her danger, 24 278 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. and as promptly took her part. She infinitely preferred the regu lar and peaceful transfer of the crown, however limited by con- stitutional rights, to the risk of contesting it with the French populace. In the Tuileries, the day was not distant, when her heart would swell with maternal pride to see the crown deck the brow of her noble boy. But once filched from the palace, and in the hands of the fickle multitude, and the greatest uncertainty would envelop its fate. The crowd pretend to little knowledge of the rights of the court. They have never been instructed in its etiquette. Once in possession of the glittering bauble, with a sacrilegious hand they would be as likely io place it upon the head of some country swain to enliven the festivities of some gala-day, as to return it to its rightful owner. The duchess, therefore, add- ed her entreaties to those of the queen, and implored the king even on bended knees, as he valued his safety, the permanency of his power, the rights of his children, to make a slight concession, and save the crown. There was still another in the imperial picture. It was the prime minister, M. Guizot. It was more against him than against the king and the royal family, that the ire of the Opposition popu- lace was directed. He was regarded, either as the base instru- ment of a reactionary policy, or a principal agent in a misapplied power, inhumanly bartering the sacred rights of human freedom for the pride of a cold and ascetic philosophy. Guizot was es- teemed politically a host in himself. The French populace looked upon him as the Nestor of European diplomacy and the Ulysses of French politics. He had been at the head of the French govern- ment so long, that he seemed the main pillar in the political edi- fice. Against him had been directed from time to time the keen arrows of the Opposition ; but these shafts, fully steeped in the gall of political virulence, and impelled with the redoubled force M. GUIZOT. 279 of united action, flanked with the omnipotent power of Freedom and Human Progress, had hitherto struck against him in harm- less impotence. Indeed, he was wont to take upon his impervious shield the envenomed missiles with the adroit skill of an uncon- quered hero, smiling with ineffable disdain as they dropped pow- erless at his feet, — or seizing them in turn, with a giant force to hurl them back upon his foes, often with destructive effect. Gui- zot is a man of immense talents and powerful genius. His re- markable powers of mind are only equalled by the extent and finish of their culture. So precocious was his intellect, that at the age of fifteen, it is reported, he could read in their native langua- ges, Demosthenes, Tacitus, Dante, Goethe, and Shakspeare. He ranked among the foremost as a professor at the Sarbonne. As a publicist of the English school, his reputation was unequalled in France. As a parliamentary orator, though rarely eloquent, yet he was ever masterly. He was mailed all over, and had not a flaw in his armor through which the shaft of objection might pene- trate and wound. But as a historian, M. Guizot stands out most conspicuously. Although not the father of philosophical history, he is emphatically the great discourser of the profound science of the present age. In this character he will continue to shine as a* fixed star in the upper heaven of the world's career. His well- earned fame had become widely spread among the masses who always bear a chivalrous enthusiasm for great genius and talent, and created for him a prestige of influence. But nearly the entire force of the French press, able, earnest, eloquent, had changed the current of his popularity to enmity. The greater the strength of the prime minister, the more implacable became the Opposition, just as a barrier gathers the waters of a rapid stream. Public feeling, which has no conscience, and consequently knows no remorsej had become intensified against the Government's 280 CRESTS FBOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. strongest supporter. Powerful influences had now set it in move, ment. It had often before in storms of agitation, laved even the pedestal of the government, and more than once dashed the sides of the political pillar. But now appearances foreboded a deeper surging from the tempest than had before been seen. The tem- porary stillness that reigned, was only the fatal hush that preceded the shock. It cannot be doubted that M. Guizot felt a conscious- ness of his approaching fate. His keen mental vision must have divined the end to which the government was hastening. But his policy could not then be changed with dignity or safety. Like a true hero, he would rather die a martyr to his policy, — to his cause. The misfortune of Guizot was in his principles ; and the misfor- tune of his principles was, that they came into the world a century too late. His policy was eminently conservative. The Opposition demanded reform and progress. The two diverging principles borne upon on either side by the increasing pressure of arbitrary power and national will, were destined to a tremendous collapse. This, the prime minister foreseeing, wrapped himself in his man- tle, and calmly awaited his fate. Nevertheless, the Government neglected no means to stay its tottering power. A force of upwards of fifty thousand men had been concentrated in and around Paris. The artillery of Vin- cennes was to be transported, at the first alarm, to the Faubourg of St. Antoine. Dispositions long and well studied, had placed, since 1830, in case of an insurrection, strategic posts to different corps in different quarters. Any emute intercepted by these posts, was to be broken into fragments, and thus prevented to concen- trate. The fort of Mount Valerin was to be occupied with a nu- merous garrison, and horse-troops stationed upon the road thence to Paris and St. Cloud. Thirty-seven battalions of infantry, a battalion of Orleans Chasseurs, three companies of engineers, ASSEMBLING OF THE POPULACE. 281 twenty squadrons, four thousand men of the municipal guard and veterans, five batteries of artillery, formed the garrison of the capital. Feb. 2'2d. The morning of the eventful day had now arrived, I took an early stroll to observe the hue of appearances. Nothing, at first, seemed to bode a sinister day. The citizens bore no arms, neither openly, nor secreted under their garments ; nor was there a lowering expression painted upon their visages. All was as usual, except a deeper stillness than ordinary. A little later in the morning, however, crowds of inoffensive and curious people began to assemble upon the boulevards and quays. Mutually at- tracted by curiosity, they seemed drawn together to observe, rather than to meditate for action. The students of the several schools, — the advance guard of all the revolutions — united by groups in their quarters, and then as- sembled upon the Place de la Madeline. Thence they sent a deputation from their number to the leaders of the Opposition, asking of the latter what they were to do, and signifying an entire readiness to execute their commands. Subsequently they swept in immense numbers through the streets, linked arm in arm, ex- tending in tiers quite across the street and singing most animatingly the celebrated Marsellaise. The impression which their stirring melody made upon my mind, as standing in the door of a fre- quented reading-room they poured thus past me, will hardly ever be effaced. This movement, with the singing, electrified the pop- ulace through which they passed. Their column continually in- creased. Traversing the Place de la Concorde, they crossed the Port Royal, forced open the gates of the palace of the Chamber of Deputies, and then spread, aimlessly, in the garden and upon the quays. A regiment of dragoons soon dispersed them. Then the infantry arrived and took possession i.f the street of Bour- goyne, and established a military defence of the bridge. 24* 232 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. At ten o'clock, the hour that had been appointed, according to the arrangement of the banquet, for the convives to form a pro- cession upon the Place of the Madeline, and thence proceed to the banquet, in the Champs Elysees, groups of boys and blouses as- sembled upon the square around the church, and finding thert nothing to feed their ardor, moved on, and dispersed promiscuously in small knots, in the Champs Elysees and in the Place de la Con corde. Their expression and movement attracted crowds of the curious in the same direction, and the military were posted around them to watch their progress, and guard against an outbreak. Early in the afternoon, I set out for the office of the Secretary of Legation, Rue Martineau, in order to get my passport viseed, preparatory to leaving Paris. My route lay through the quarters where the crowd had become most dense. Passing down Rue de Seine, I found the quays on the left bank of the river unusually free of people. But the other side was covered with the an- imated and moving throng, increasing to the Pont de la Concorde. As this human stream was moving my own way, I was swiftly swept along, hastened by the common pulsation of curiosity The garden of the Tuileries, which I crossed, was as solitary as a desert, except about the gate which leads from the garden into the Place de la Concorde, where the throng was dense, and the gate shut and guarded against passers. Here, climbing to the top of a post, 1 succeeded to a gratifying view of the scene farther on. The fine square of the Place de la Concorde was nearly filled. On one side was a handsome troop of cavalry posted in close column, with stately plumes, brilliant uniform, and armor gleaming in the rays of the declining sun. They sat upon theft horses as motionless as beings from whom the spirit of life had departed. Their down- cast eyes were turned -.eadfastly toward the point of danger ; but 'heir countenances expressed more of sorrow than of anger. DENSELY CROWDED STREETS- 283 Two other sides of the square were filled with a packed mass of spectators, idly, but eagerly looking on, and curiously awaiting some brilliant explosion. Between these were insignificant look- ing blouses and boys, who appeared to be regarded as the embryo heroes of approaching events. They would occasionally unite in small detached groups, send up in the air a faint a bas Guizot I — then disperse and disappear in the skirts of the crowd. They ap- peared reckless, but perfectly good-natured. It was evident that they were not yet worked up to the fervor of action. On the side of the square flanked by rue Rivoli, was a vast and promiscuous throng of men, women, and children, — all eager, curious and anxious. This extended wave of life would at one time ebb off, leaving the space in that direction almost open, and then surge up in a dense mass, threatening to block up every nook of the entire square. As it was impossible to pursue my route farther from this point, I descended the garden to a gate opening into rue Rivoli, through which I passed, and with difficulty forced my way through the compact and vibrating crowd to the side of the Place de la Concorde, where several streets radiate. Here, contrary currents of people meeting, were suffocatingly forced upon each other, and engulfed in a whirlpool, from which there appeared no way of extraction. It was a maelstrom of lesser size. After being swept around for some time in the merciless, boiling tide, till I felt the life to be nearly squeezed out of me, a chance eddy pre- cipitated me into a niche of the buildings of the street, where I gratefully took a long breath. Here, watching a favorable turn, I darted out with a view to thread the corner, and reach the space of the Champs Elysees, — but I had no sooner reached a point where I fancied myself out of danger, when a fitful surge came rolling full upon me, and swept me back quite down rue de Rivoli into Rue Royal, as impotently as some tiny bauble borne upon the 284 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. boiling bosom of a swollen freshet. I now changed my route, and thought I might reach my destination by the Rue St. Honore, which was parallel with rue de Rivoli and the Champs Elysees ; but I found this street, too, so choked with people, that moving through it seemed quite impossible. But all these obstacles only served to inflame my ardor, and strengthen my purpose to succeed in getting the necessary changes made in my passport to enable me to leave the city at the moment I might wish. Indeed, I be- came almost desperate in my efforts, and tugged away with an energy and perseverance worthy of a more important cause. Reaching the wall of the street, and pressing hard against it with my back, when the jambed throng surged with resistless force in the contrary direction, and pressing and elbowing my way, a little, when the opposition slightly relaxed, I finally, with much ado, reached the office, minus buttons, and hat fit for the block of the hatter. I found Mr. S , Secretary of Legation, tranquilly enjoying a cigar with an acquaintance-caller. Neither of them had been out for the day to see the demonstrations, and they ques- tioned, with a slightly anxious tone, to know how affairs were moving in the streets. Speaking rather jocosely and incredulously of the puny efforts of the emuteurs against the strongly fortified powers of the Government, Mr. S ,with a gusto of sympathy re- counted the heroic wish of a lady of his acquaintance residing in the Champs Elysees, that the emute might not be so soon quelled as to deprive her of the excitement and gratification of witnessing the sport, — and affording a rich reminiscence to reproduce among her friends in the United States. It cannot be doubted that her curiosity was amply satisfied. Returning homeward, I could not well resist the curiosity of obtaining a view of what might be worthy of remembrance, by taking the route of the Champs Elysees ; but I was near being A PAINt UL SCENE. 285 dearly paid for my temerity. After reaching a post where the crowd was somewhat dense among the venerable elms of the splendid park, a group of emuteurs who had been vociferating cries of a bas Guizot, were charged and dispersed by a small body of light-horse. When these latter were returning from the charge, the rioters rallied, and for a moment the air was darkened with every description of missiles at hand. One of these striking a horseman upon the head, felled him senseless to the earth. Upon this, the exasperated troop turned their horses, and with drawn swords, rushed furiously upon the rioters, dealing severe cuts in every direction. Without changing my pace, they thundered past me, offering me no harm. But at the cruel scene around me, my heart sickened, and my eyes grew dim. In a moment I was wedged among the crowd of spectators, who, partaking of the gen- eral panic, received an impetus of movement which by turns com- pletely took me from the ground, and I was swept along far from the immediate scene of action. The above act was the only one that I could hear of, in which blood was shed during the day. Among the entire population there was evinced no feeling of strong passion. The evening journals had modified their tone. The Opposition journals limited themselves to little more than detailing the known transactions of the day. The Government journals, on the contrary, were loud in support of the government, urging it to vigorous measures. The Journal des Debats made use of the following pointed language : " Advance upon the phan- tom, and it will vanish ; fly from it, and it will increase to the sky." After gleaning whatever possible of information in regard to the true posture of affairs, with mingled emotions of expecta- tion respecting the fate of the morrow, I retired. CHAPTER XXI. REVOLUTION CONTINUED — SUAVITY AND KINDNESS OF MR RUSH — CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES — M. GUIZOT IN THE TRIBUNE GENIAL EFFECT UPON THE PUBLIC MIND OF THE RUMORED RESIGNATION OF M. GUIZOT — READING ROOMS — ALARM IN THE NIGHT — CAUSE — DEPARTURE APPEARANCE OF THE STREETS — THE ENGLISHMAN DEPARTURE FROM PARIS — EXCITEMENT OF THE INHABITANTS ON THE ROUTE — AMIENS — APPEARANCE OF BELGIUM. Wednesday, Feb. 23d. The night passed without material dis- order. The troops bivouacked upon the public squares, and in the streets. A few chairs and benches in the Champs Elysees, set fire to by some boys, gave a slight illumination of disorder. Yet the government were everywhere master of the pavement, except in a few narrow streets around the cloister of St. Mery, in the centre of Paris, which forms a kind of natural citadel. There some four or five hundred desperate republicans were thronged in dog- ged defiance. But their chiefs even disapproved their obstinacy and temerity. Another detachment of republicans, without lead- ers, disarmed during the night the National Guards of the Batig- nolles, burned the post of the barrier, and fortified themselves in a carpenter's yard, to await future events. No attempt was made to dislodge them. Early in the morning I made a stroll, and found the city calm and awaiting. The several routes leading to the gates of the city were covered at the earliest dawn with col- PROGRESS OF THE REVOLUTION. 287 umns of caealry, infantry, artillery, called by the orders of the government. These troops showed a promptitude of obedience, but were sad and silent. The possibility of a civil strife darkened their sun-burnt visages. They severally , took positions at the grand junctions of the quarters which divide the city. During the day, armory stores were broken open, arms seized, and de- tached and scattering firing made upon the troops. It was nearly, however, without effect. Barricades were raised, commencing near the church of Saint Mery, and extending almost to the feet of the soldiers. But they were no sooner raised, than abandoned : for the soldiers, having only stones to fight, would not waste their ammunition. The National Guard, composed of the well-to-do citizens of the city, being called upon, promptly responded ; but they re- mained neutral, limiting themselves to interfering between the people and the troops, with a spirit of pacification. Many a gen- erous act might be recorded of some young man, fired with senti- ments of heroic humanity, breasting danger with his life, to stop the effusion of blood. Early in the forenoon, I called on Mr. Rush, the American min- ister, who, in a note which he had left in person, the evening be- fore, at my hotel, had promised to put me in a way to visit the Chamber of Deputies, and if possible, the House of Peers. I had been trying for this, since my arrival in Paris, but without success, — and as a last resort, had applied to Mr. Rush for assis- tance. He promptly lent me all aid in his power. I found him arisen, but he had not been out. He inquired about the appearance in the streets with a feeling of anxiety, but expressed the opinion that the government could not possibly be moved from its strong position. He cordially lent me his own ticket for a seat in the Chamber of Deputies, stating that fort" 288 CRESTS FEOM THE OCEAN-WORLD. nately for me, it happened to be the first day it had been in fox several weeks, so great had been the desire to gain access to the intensely eloquent, as well as stormy, sessions of that body, — that there were then numerous applicants for the favor, but he felt bound to give me the preference, from the importance of my mis- sion. As to the Chamber of Peers, it was not in his power to do anything for me. Mr. Rush was justly popular at Paris. He has a frankness of manner which places you at once at your ease, and so enters into your feelings that you are comfortable and delighted in his presence. He converses admirably, and evinces a tone of charac- ter and polish of style allied to great simplicity, that bespeak the true gentleman. After a turn or two about the city, I appeared at the door of the Chamber of Deputies, and showing the ticket of Mr. Rush, was promptly and politely conducted to a box in the north side of the first gallery. It was half-past twelve, noon, when I arrived, but the hall was quite vacant. At one o'clock, the president of the assembly entered, accompanied by the officers of the Cham- ber and some members. He immediately pronounced the session open, and the proceedings of the last day were read by the clerk, but no one gave the slightest attention to the exercise. At half- past one the president rang his large bell, and requested gentle- men to be seated ; but all present were too absorbed in conversing upon affairs without, to give the slightest heed to the summons ; and it was three o'clock before tolerable order could be obtained. Members were continually entering the room, or passing out, for private conferences in the lobbies; or assembled in groups, in dif- ferent parts of the hall, and conversing with an earnest and anxious look. It was deeply interesting to watch the ebb and flow of emotion on their countenances, as a letter would ever and VISIT TO THE CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES. 289 anon arrive, bringing intelligence of the progress of the revolution without. By this time, the boxes in the first gallery, which I could see, were packed with spectators, mostly ladies, whom I presumed to be the wives, daughters, or friends, of the members. Another gentleman was in my box, who had come in soon after me. lie bore the costume, and had the air of a cosmopolitan; and, after making a careful survey of the scene, had laid down on a plushed seat, and closed his eyes in silence. He was soon followed by another young gentleman, who could not be mistaken as a Yankee, although attired fastidiously in Parisian style. All around appeared new to him, and he continually evinced a pigeon-like trepidation of spirit. As soon as the session became a little turbulent he left, precipitately, evincing no relish for the scenes that might follow. Members were ever passing around to each other, in familiar intercourse ; but the principal interest seemed to centre around the seats of the ministers of the government, who were busy in receiving the chiefs of the legislative parties. The officer of the Chamber made several fruitless attempts to secure order and at- tention, for such as wished to address the house. He would sound his bell, and cry out, " Messieurs, aux bancs," — gentlemen to their seats, — which was heeded as little as would have been the most insignificant appeal. The president joined his official au- thority to his personal influence, and reminded gentlemen of their duty, and what was due to their dignity : but it all fell pow- erless amid the mortal disquietude which consumed every other sentiment. Two or three times, indeed, partial order was effected, to enable some speaker to ascend the tribune for an address, — but after the delivery of a few sentences, confusion again would break in, drown the voice of the orator, and force him to quit the 'ribune. 25 290 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. Towards four o'clock in the afternoon, a small delegation of tnili tary officers entered the hall, and one of them in a respectful manner, handed a paper to the president. While the latter was reading the communication, the members seated themselves, and there was instantly profound silence, as if in anticipation of some important announcement. The president then stated that the palace was surrounded with troops of the National Guard who had despatched a deputation from their number to request or demand a resignation of the ministry, as a measure indispensable to appease the populace, and stop further effusion of blood. This announcement was received by the house with the silence of sur- prise or contempt. Immediately a slender figure, a little above the medium French stature, darted from the ministers' seats and ascended the tribune, in front of the Speaker's desk. There was a slight awkwardness in his gait. As he turned to the audience to speak, his features bespoke the immobility of an unconquerable purpose ; and his eye, the slumbering of a volcano within. It was M. Guizot, the prime minister. He had uttered but a few sentences, when suddenly, — from the most breathless attention and the deepest stillness, — the entire assembly broke forth in one astounding, thrilling, prolonged accla- mation or remonstrance. Loud cries of "Aye, aye!" "No, no!" accompanied by intense expression, and frantic gestures, filled the room, and came rolling up the gallery in startling effect. The very edifice seemed to quake under the impulse. The vast assem- bly was an immensely multiplied electrical battery, and each Frenchman an active Leyden jar. Had the heavens suddenly poured their accumulated thunders upon my ear, or played their condensed fire through my veins, I could harldly have been more thrillingly shocked. As to the gentleman, my only companion in the box I occupied, who had never changed from the horizontal pos- RESIGNATION OF THE GUIZOT MINISTRY. 291 hire he first assumed on entering, — he now started suddenly up, •ooked wildly round, protruded his head out upon the scene, and then, smiting his forehead with his fists as if in a fit of abject despera- tion, leaped out by the door like a maniac, and disappeared from me entirely. During this exciting scene, the speaker remained in the same posture, as motionless as a statue. Not a muscle relaxed, and no emotion was visible in the steady features and unwavering eye. Even the arm remained in the same posture of the half- finished gesture. He was saying, when the explosion took place, 9 that the demand of the National Guard was unnecessary, as the king at that moment was forming a new ministry." When the whirlwind of passion had subsided, he turned to the president, *md remarked that the demonstration which had just taken place wotdd not influence him to add to or subtract from what he was going to say; and then in a few words closed, and resumed his seat among his colleagues, when a repetition of the late tumult transpired. The whole scene was rich, and long to be remembered. I could never have conceived of two so strong opposites in the same character — such a tornado of intense power, vivid energy, intoxicating thrill, and lightning impetuosity enveloped in the gay, polite, amiable, and facile Frenchman. On my way homeward, I found that the rumored resignation of the Guizot ministry had, with the winged flight of good intelli- gence, spread among all classes. The evidence of it beamed from the countenances of all. The sad, anxious face was changed to one of hope and joy. Men and women accosted each other with wonted freedom of spirit. A mental load seemed to be re- moved suddenly from the heart of the city. Undoubtedly there were desperate spirits that regretted any pacification, but the im- mense majority of respectable citizens shuddered at the bare idea of an insurrection. To such the intelligence came with healing 292 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. in its wings. The utmost demanded by the Opposition was now accorded them. In the evening I was in one of the public reading-rooms. These are found in all parts of the city. All are furnished with the journals, the popular works of French, English, German and Ital- ian authors ; and some with the standard works in the various de- partments of science and literature. For a single admission you pay about three cents, which entitles you to read as long as you choose. The delightful convenience of such an institution in a city like Paris, always filled with intelligent strangers, is too ob- vious to need comment. This room, in the quarter of the schools, was always thronged. It consisted of three large saloons, with wide, open door-ways leading into each other, and filled with long tables, upon which were French, English, and German journals; while the walls were covered with volumes, arranged upon shelves. It was bril- liantly lighted. As you enter, you raise your chcupeau to the gen- tlemen, and then seat yourself at will. Waiters are ever at your elbow awaiting your demands. On leaving, you call at the desk, make payment, and retouch your chapeau. The utmost quietness ever reigns, and a good degree of politeness prevails among tht, devouring readers. I found the reading-room, as usual, filled with hungry seekery for the daily news. The stillness of night reigned, and no ordi- nary incident could have disturbed the order ; but an evening jour- nal having arrived, the excitement of curiosity to swallow its con- tents, at once became so intense as to break through all restraint and decorum. Each wishing to read it first, a scene of confusion took place. It was instantly decided that one should lead aloud for all ; whereupon, a gentleman mounting upon the centre of a table, read the account of the resignation of the GuViot ministry ALARM IN THE NIGHT. 293 the formation of a new ministry by the king, with Count Mole at its head, — with the, comments of the editor. The reading was spiced with a due quantity of gestures, grimmaces, shrugs and ironic explanations by the reader, while the audience heightened the amusement of the scene by their contributions of jeu d'esprits. It was now the general feeling that the contention was at an end ; and as I had set the 24th for my departure, I proceeded to make arrangements for an early leave. The depot of the railroad for the North, was at the northern limit of the city, while I was residing on the south side of the Seine. The several coachmen to whom I applied for a carriage, would not take me for any price, fearing that their vehicles would be arrested and converted into barricades. My valises packed, hotel bill settled, a cordial leave of Madame D., and a douceur for her maid, I threw myself upon my delightful wool mattress for the needed refreshment for the morrow's journey. I was awakened in the night from sound slumber, by a great noise and confusion in our hotel. A general panic seemed to have seized its usually quiet inmates ; and the different parts of the house were resounding with hurried footsteps, slamming of doors, and incoherent voices. A moment's attentive listening, however, persuaded me that the occasion of this turbulent excitation was without our residence. The bells of the city were breaking the stillness of night with successive, hurried peals. Quickly moving lights gleamed across my window. The^ pavement in the street below reverberated the heavy and confused tread of passing crowds ; while the wild clashing of multitudinous voices near, drowning, at times, some distant shout, faintly falling upon the ear, lent a strange and fearful animation to this contemplated scene. It was evident that some unlooked-for occurrence had aroused the city. But as there was neither safety, nor prospect 25* 29A CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. of gratification in venturing out, it was better quietly to a>„ai . re* suits. The symptoms of alarm, however, soon subsided, ami \ fell again into slumber. I subsequently learned the occasion of the wide-spread tumult. The intelligence that the ministry had resigned, had carried joy nearly to all hearts. The sudden removal of deep, pressing dread, had given an elastic bound to gladness. The city was par- tially illuminated. The suspended fetes and amusements shone forth in renewed splendor. A large column of reckless spirits of the lower order of the populace, carried away with the gene- ral enthusiasm, and perhaps partially intoxicated with success against the government, traversed the streets and boulevards in a spirit of triumphal exultation. Immense crowds floated along with this haggard force, in which was enveloped the spark of destiny. A red flag floated in the smoke of their torches, and a sinister tone was apparent in their animated expression. Arriv- ing in front of the hotel of Foreign Affairs, they found the boulevard blocked by a battalion of the line, ranged in battle ar- ray, with arms charged, and the commander at their head. The column suddenly halted before that forest of bristling bayonets. The sight of the red flag, and the glare of the torches, frightened the horse of the commander so that he reared, and rushed toward the battalion, which opened to envelop its chief. In the confusion of the movement, a shot was heard. Whether it escaped from a concealed and deadly hand, or was the mere result of accident, is not known; but the soldiers, believing themselves attacked, levelled their muskets, and drew upon the column. A stream of momentary flame ran along the line. The reverberation from the houses and street shook the whole boulevard. The column from the faubourgs fell, decimated by the balls. Death shrieks, and groans from the wounded, were mingled with screams of f tigkt DEPARTURE FROM PARIS. 2d5 from the spectators, and from women and children, who fled in every direction. The commander of the troops, deploring the involuntary massacre, essayed an explanation with the populace. The latter, gathering in carts the dead, made with them a funeral procession by torch light, breathing revenge on the Government as the authors of the crime. They were drawn up before the office of the National, and other Opposition journals, displayed in gory revenge, and exciting harangues made to the assembled crowds. This unlucky incident gave new impulse to the revolution. DEPARTURE. The fixed intention of leaving, awoke me early in the morning. "With valises packed to their utmost density, I was quietly let out into the tranquil morning air, by the attentive maid, who in passing, nodded Monsieur an amiable adieu. The air was bland, and the street unoccupied, and perfectly still. It was the repent- ant, pensive face of nature, immediately after the destructive rage of a tempest. Passing down Rue de Seine, and around the corner of the venerable Institute, lines of soldiers came to view on the quays of the north bank of the Seine, presenting drowsy, haggard, and sorrowful countenances. They had evi- dently bivouacked on the pavement. In Rue St. Dennis the pop- ulace began to be a-stir ; as I proceeded, the concourse increased. They were of the working classes, men and women. There was nothing of deep spite or deadly hate visible upon their faces, but a kind of mortal impatience, an indefinite movement, as when one would act without finding the means or seeing clearly the end. I asked a woman who was walking by my side, the occasion of the incipient demonstration. She replied, that the new Count Mole ministry gave but little better satisfaction than the one it displaced ; and the sad event of the night had enkindled and emboldened 296 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. anew the passions of the populace. I trudged along, perspiring freely, faint from want of breakfast, but sustained by the anima- tion imparted by the enkindling scenes around. A little on, a tall, athletic, determined-looking man, issued from a lane, and with an iron bar began prying up the paving stones for a barricade. He was immediately joined by others ; and, before I had left them out of sight, the pile had gained quite formidable proportions. A little further on, a large, strong, fierce-looking man, passed in cus- tody of a soldier of the National Guard. He walked with a lofty and defying gait, and his countenance spoke a torrent of power dammed up within. Some half a dozen men stepped to his side, and offered to liberate him, — but for some reason ne de- clined their good offices. The wide and beautiful boulevard of St. Martin and St. Dennis presented a desolate spectacle. The beautiful elms that lined the splendid avenue, had been cut down for barricades, and lay promiscuously strowed with omnibuses, coaches, carts, and other vehicles, in very babel-like confusion. Here, a double line of soldiers, stretching off on both sides of me in the distance, were standing in mute sadness. As I approached, they opened, leaving me a passage just wide enough to squeeze through, edge-wise. At another cross-street a barricade was vig- orously being formed. They usually left a space for passers ; but this extended quite across the street. A woman preceded me. With respectful kindness they suspended the work, and helped her to scramble over it. They extended the same favor to me. Get- ting over was a task not a little formidable to me, exhausted as I was, and encumbered with luggage. Another barricade of huge dimensions, formed the day before, forced me to reach the depot by a circuitous route, in which I was aided by the kind politeness of a gentleman who persisted in accompanying me to point out ♦he way. Several times before, gentlemen had volunteered and AN ENGLISHMAN. 29^ urged their services for the same purpose ; and all along I was shown courteous and respectful kindness particularly grateful to the feelings. On the whole route, there was nothing sinister in the expression of the populace, but rather a fervent elasticity of feeling. When I had been in the depot-building but a few mo- ments, a stout-built gentleman enveloped in cloaks and furs, ap~ proached hurriedly, and rather bluntly accosted me in French : — " When does the first train for the North leave, sir ? " " At half-past nine o'clock," I replied. " Do you not mistake ? " " Not unlikely, but I am just from the ticket-office." " How long have you been in Paris ? " " Eight weeks." " Where are you from ? " " The United States." " Then you speak English ? " « Undoubtedly." " I am an Englishman," he resumed, changing to his native language, " reside in Havre, — arrived in Paris but a quarter of an hour since, and am now making the most of the time to get out as fast as possible of the city and territory. I confess the hori- zon of Paris looks a little too lowering to suit my fancy just now." It is needless to say that we were travelling companions at once. I stepped into a neighboring cafe for a cup of refreshing beverage and a roll, but my friend would not venture with me. The windows of the saloon were closed with strong shutters, and all the doors barred except a private entrance from behind. A few gentlemen were within, quaffing their coffee in hot haste, while the waiters were running to and fro in distracted excitement. A traveller entered, laden with baggage, in profuse perspiration and ^extreme trepidation. 298 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. ♦ ; When will the omnibus line pass here for ?" he hurriedly demanded. " It does not run, now." " Can I obtain a carriage ? * " No, sir, not at any price." "What shall I do?" " Don'l know, sir." The unfortunate gentleman threw himself' into a chair v 1**, „ look of unutterable despair. On returning, I found the huge iron door leading into the enclosure of the depot shut and bolted ; and it was only after much explanation, seconded by my friend within, that I was permitted to repass. They had closed it as a precau- tion of safety. My companion suggested that we should take the half-past eight train, which stopped at Amiens, and there await the Brussels train ; " for," he added, " while you were out, I ob- served some trivial movements, which make me more willing to get away. For instance, a bloody-looking chap climbed the stone wall before my eyes, and after deliberately laying beside him a long, gleaming knife, and pistol, pounded off the wires of the tel- egraph, and then descended. He looked ripe for any dreadful purpose." I was myself the more of his opinion in respect to mak- ing haste, as I recollected being told on the way in the morn- ing, that I should not get out of Paris by railroad, as the rails had been taken up by the rioters, to prevent the ingress of sol- diers to the city, — a report which convinced me that at least that was the intention, and that we had no time to lose. In a few moments, accordingly, we were breathing the morning air in the country, and leaving the glittering spires of the magnificent city, far behind. There was in the same carriage with us, a small party of French gentlemr i and ladies leaving the city for safety. They were in a JOURNEY TO BRUSSELS. 299 flood of emotion in view of the uncertain fate of their friends be- hind, and of their own fortunate situation. It were no slight task to paint the phrenzied, yet graceful grimmacing, shrugging, ges- ticulating of these amiable fugitives, as each, in turn, portrayed the scenes of his own experience for the last few days, — heightening the picture by the inimitable French tone and accent. One of the ladies, herself melted to tears from the tenderness cf her na- ture, described with such exquisite pathos as really to draw deeply upon our sympathies. Excepting the slightly sombre tint of feeling imparted by our companions, we were in the most delightful frame of mind imagi- nable. The balmy glow of the morning air, the exhilarating movement on our easy and voluptuous seat, the beautiful and di- versified landscape continually greeting our eyes with some new charm, rolling by like a pleasing panorama, added to a grateful re- lief from anxiety and a comfortable feeling of security, combined to render the morning ride all that could be wished. We sped along, touching, among other smaller places, at St. Dennis, Enghien, Ermont, Franconville, Herblay, and Pontoise Wherever we stopped, the citizens of all classes, borne away with a fever of excitement, swarmed around the cars, and liter- ally overwhelmed us with interrogatories touching the movements in Paris. At Franconville, an aged and maimed gentlemen hob- bled towards me, and, observing that I spoke English, begged that I would favor him with the news from Paris, — remarking that his French was so much at fault, that he never spoke that lan- guage if be could avoid it. He cordially shook my hand on leaving, and with true English hospitality entreated that I would make him a visit, should I ever come again that way. He had resided thirty years in France, yet his heart still clung to the ieenes of early youth, and when he spoke of Ould England, the SCO CE£STS FROM THE OCEAN- WORLD. tears actually stood in his eyes. The Americans, he said, were next to the English — " God bless them ! " He lingered on the platform till we were fast receding from sight, when he waived ua an affectionate adieu. On we galloped, screaming, snorting, puffing, by hill and plateau variegated with verdure, through dale and glen, and woodland, — \ passing through Auvers, Isle- Adam, Beaumont, Precy, Saint-Leu, to Creil; then on through Campeigne, Cleremont, Breteuil, to Amiens, — seventy-two miles from Paris, where we arrived at half-past twelve, noon. The next train would pass in an hour ; barely leaving us time to swallow a dinner at a restaurant, and, afterwards, make a glimpse-stroll through the city. The meal, which was despatched with a zest known only to hunger, was served after the true Parisian mode. We could not but regret the want of time to ex- amine leisurely the note K1 e objects of the place. It possesses more than one attraction for the traveller. Situated on the river of the sune name, by which it may be approached by flat-bottomed ves- sels of forty or fifty tons, it is the centre of considerable trade, as well in its own productions, as in those of the surrounding country. It is well built ; streets for the most part straight and clean ; and it has some fine squares and promenades. It has a citadel, con- structed by Henry IV. ; an academy of sciences and belle-lettres ; a free-school of design ; a botanical garden ; a library of forty thousand volumes, and very considerable manufactures. The old Gothic cathedral, in excellent preservation, is one of the finest in Europe. Amiens is very ancient, being supposed to have existed anterior to the invasion of Belgium by the Romans. It is known in diplomatic history, from the circumstance of a definitive treaty of peace between England and the French Republic having been signed in it, on the twenty-fifth of March, 1802. It is, likewise* INTERIOR OF BELGIUM. 301 the birth-place of the famous Peter the Hermit, the apostle of the first Crusade. We were at the depot in due season ; but the usual hour brought no train from Paris. We continued to tarry impatiently till the hands on the public clock had indicated two, three, even half-past three o'clock, but no arrival. The truth now dawned upon our minds. The rails had been removed from the track, near Paris, a few moments after our de- parture. My English companion, in a kind of childish ecstasy, now congratulated us on his lucky thought to take the half-past eight instead of the half-past nine o'clock train from Paris. We were thus saved a kind of imprisonment in the capital, the more troublesome from the uncertainty of its duration, and the ominous thickening of thrilling events. Our slight vexation at this un- expected delay was soon quieted, however, by the polite liber- ality of the prompt officials of the railway line, who readily brought out for our accommodation an extra train, in which they sent us on our way rejoicing. Here I was left to miss the pres- ence for the rest of the way, of my English acquaintance, who, on the starting of the cars, rather unceremoniously slipped me, and joined, in another carriage, a small, lively party of dashing young beaux and belles, all fragrant with the perfume of the toilette, and perfectly radiant with inward gaiety and joyousness. v Less confident than he, I withstood the temptation to follow, and resumed my seat amid my former Paris acquaintances, who com- pensated me, in part at least, for the deprivation, by their perfect kindness and free communication. As we approached the interior of Belgium, the surface of the country became lower, and of a more uniform level. Indeed, ex cept a ramification of the chain of the Ardennes, extending in a uorth-east direction, through Luxembourg, Namur, and Liege, and 26 302 CHESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. anothei dff- shoot of the Ardennes running parallel with this, on the north banks of the Lambre and Meuse, between Mons and Maestricht, and a few hilly districts in the south and east, the whole territory presents a series of nearly level plains, traversed by numerous streams, delightfully diversified by woods, arable lands, and meadows of brilliant verdure, enclosed by hedge-rows, and thickly studded throughout with towns and villages. It is well known that much of the fertile and cultivated soil of Belgium has been redeemed from the ocean, or from the stagnant waters of the rivers by which it is intersected. History states that, in the ages immediately preceding and subsequent to, the Christian era, much of the great plain which now comprises the provinces of W. and E. Flanders and Antwerp, was partially overflowed by the ocean. The soil was so marshy that an inun- dation or a tempest threw down whole forests, such as are still dis- covered below the surface. The sea and rivers had no limits, and the earth no solidity. Many of the inhabitants of this low country lived in huts placed upon the mounds of sand, or elevated above the reach of the tides, upon stakes. " Your kingdom," said Napoleon, to his brother Louis, " may be defined the deposit of the Rhine, the Meuse, and the Scheldt, the great arteries of my empire." As we bounded gaily along, we were struck with the picturesque costume of the husbandmen already in the fields with their clumsy and unique implements, preparing for the summer's crop. The sight of women performing the agricultural drudgery of beasts of burden, brought a thrill of gratitude in view of the superior con- dition of my own countrywomen. The farms were for the most part exceedingly small, from five to twenty acres in extent, but cultivated with the greatest neatness and taste. Nearly a fifth of the whole surface of the kingdom is covered with forests and TREES AND FORESTS. 3Qj woods ; and a general woody appearance is given even to the most cultivated parts of Belgium, by the custom of planting trees in the hedge enclosures of the fields. The principal roads are also lined by double rows of majestic lindens, and the canals are usually shaded by rows of poplars, beeches, and willows. All the common trees of Europe abound. The forest of Soignies is asso- ciated with the memorable battle of Waterloo. A thousand acres $f this was owned by the late Duke of Wellington, in connection with his title of Prince of Waterloo. The romantic forest of St. Hubert is Shakspeare's " Forest of Arden." Most of the houses in the smaller villages through which we passed, were built of red brick, with thatched or tiled roofs, pro- ducing a combination of the gay and rural, singularly unique and striking. One of our company, pointing to the fortifications of a small town, observed to me that it was an interesting feature of the smaller towns of the North of Europe. There are twenty-one of these in Belgium. They served to protect in a measure their citizens from the ravages of the numerous wars of which the country has been the doomed theatre. Indeed this beautiful coun- try has been from time immemorial the battle field of Europe. CHAPTER XXil. ARRIVAL AT BRUSSELS — OFFICIALS — INTENSE EXCITEMENT OV THE CROWD — A WORCESTER GENTLEMAN — APPEARANCE OF THE CITY — LADY OF THE AMERICAN MINISTER — PALAIS DU CONGRESS — CHAMBERS OF PARLIAMENT — BELGIUM — THEA- TRES YOUTHFUL PERFORMERS — RESIGNATION OF LOUIS PHILLIPPE, AND FLIGHT OF THE ROYAL FAMILY — BOULE- VARDS AND CAFES — SCHOOLS — HOTEL DU VILLE — PALACE OF FINE ARTS — CELEBRATED PAINTERS. On account of our detention at Amiens, it was late in the eve- ning when we reached Brussels. The news of the revolution of Paris had preceded us, and we were, in consequence, surrounded by people on landing, eager to learn the latest intelligence. The officer declining to inspect my baggage, I hastened to the nearest hotel, a few steps from the depot. Being the only passenger who stopped at this hotel, I was closely surrounded, on entering, and pressed for information. Two officials from the Palace of Laer- kin, coming in, the crowd, from a deference shown officers in mon- archical governments, readily yielded a small space around me. These dignitaries, with an excited manner, questioned me minute- ly respecting the thrilling and astounding events that were trans- piring in Paris ; and after thanking me for my complaisance, took a dignified and polite leave. They had no sooner closed the door, when the crowd, denser than before, actually pressed full upon AN AMERICAN GENTLEMAN. 305 me, and with intense eagerness, but good naturedly expressed, clamored for news from Paris. Questions were put to me so rap- idly, and of so varied import, amid such confusion, that I was at last overwhelmed, exhausted, and could say nothing more. In this dilemma, I observed at the outer edge of the crowd a gentle* man something like half a head taller than those around him, vig- orously elbowing his way toward me. His erect form and bold movement showed resoluteness, while his countenance, rendered French-like by an elegant moustache, beamed with animation. As soon as he approached within hailing distance, his voice drowning all others, reached my ear, assured me a little, and thus set me on the track of answering his questions. Presently, however, per- ceiving my embarrassment in expressing myself readily, he stopped suddenly short, begged to know how long I was in Paris, and what country I was from. On seizing from my lips the name Boston, he burst forth in a tone of mingled delight and astonish- ment, but in an exclamation a little irreverent, " , just where I am from." It was Mr. G , of Worcester, who had been in Europe a year or more, — and who, singular to say, lodged while in Paris, in the very next hotel to mine, which he left but a few days before the memorable 2 2d of February, without our having seen each other. As he was the more fluent in French, he yielded to my solicitation to become my interpreter to the news-devouring throng. Yet, later in the evening, when the crowd had fully withdrawn, Mr. G. and myself had a most glo- rious tete-a-tete. It is needless to say that it was long past midnight before we parted to retire. None, I will venture to say, but those who have experienced it, can conceive the perfect de- light felt on the meeting of countrymen in a foreign land. It centres with a rush upon the heart all the dearest associations of home and country, enkindling it to a glow of fraternal enthusiasm 26* 306 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAi\-WORLD. experienced, indeed, but never described. Ceremony, the cold, dampening cloud which envelops character, is at once dissipated by the sunshine of the beaming soul, and the best feelings of our nature appear in unreserve. We had much to talk over of what we had seen, and the impressions we had gathered therefrom, be- sides a mutual exchange of a chapter of our personal history, as well as making sittings of persons whom we happened mutually to know in the U. States ; and all this was done with the frank- ness and freedom of long acquaintance, though we had not known each other before that evening. Feb. 25th. Arose early, and after a frugal breakfast, made alone my morning's promenade for first impressions of a city which I had for a long time yearned to visit. I found it not very unlike the idea I had formed from the many descriptions I had read. A large portion of the city being built on the acclivity of a hill, it presents, when viewed on the west, a picturesque amphi- theatre of houses ; and the great inequality of the elevation of its site has often induced a comparison with Naples and Genoa. The figure described by the outline of it resembles that of a pear, the smaller part pointing S. S. W. A century ago the city was sur- rounded with ramparts. The site of these fortifications has been converted into spacious boulevards, planted with rows of stately linden trees that encircle two-thirds of the city. These boulevards command extensive views of the country, and afford an agreeable promenade. The scenery of the adjacent country is beautifully diversified by sloping heights, and green valleys refreshed by the waters of the Seune. Many of the streets are wide and regular, and are paved generally with large flint-stones. The ancient part of Brussels is ornamented by many fine specimens of the florid style of architecture ; and the modern part exhibits many excel- lent buildings erected about fifty years ago, — but there is an uni- LADY OF THE AMERICAN MINISTER. 307 formity in the appearance of the dwelling-houses not pleasing to the eye. After a breakfast a la Frangais, I passed, in company with Mr G., to pay my respects to the American Minister. He being ab- sent, we were received by his lady in a manner natural only to ladies of Southern nativity, who have enjoyed large intercourse with elevated society. Mr. G. had already been honored with her acquaintance, and the conversation between them immediately turned upon the fine arts and the social amenities of the city. Madame the Minister read a note in French, which had been in- trusted to her for Mr. G., with pure Parisian accent. The conversation then turned upon the all-absorbing topic of the day — the insurrection in Paris ; and learning that I was just from the capital, her interest in the subject acquired a most lively animation. Her voluble tongue seemed as conversant with Euro- pean politics, as with the intimate affairs of court circles. In al- lusion to the communication being intercepted, by the removal of the rails on the railway near Paris, and the breaking of the tel- egraph-wires, by the insurgents, she thought that railroads and telegraph-wires were in every way excellent in countries where the people pulled with the government, but that these modern glorious improvements often proved exceedingly embarrassing to reigning powers in revolutions. She observed, further, that many liberal minded and right hearted people in Europe would gladly favor a general revolution for free institutions, but that so rotten did they consider the present political edifice, as not to dare lay- ing violent hands on it, for fear of hopelessly burying society be- neath its tottering ruins. She was perfectly simple in her man- ner, conversed with force, point, and luminous ease, and expressed herself in French with precision, and an almost native fluency and grace. She was a little below the medium stature of Amer- ,-?08 CRESTS FROM THE OCEAN-WORLD. ican ladies, of rather dark complexion, but of an agreeable coun tenance, and an eye, when animated in conversation, to remind you at once of the great Southern statesman, John C. Calhoun, of whom she is a daughter, and, I doubt not, no unworthy represen- tative. There was standing a half finished portrait in an adjoining room, in regard to which she incidentally observed, that her hus- band was wont to spend some of his leisure hours in gratifying his extreme predilection for painting. Indeed, the duties of an American ambassador at Brussels are not particularly engrossing ; and it is said, with good reason, that there is no foreign embassy more eligible, either in regard to its freedom from expense, the leisure it affords, or the agreeableness of society, than that at Brussels. "We went successively to the Museum and to the office of the Mimster of the Interior, who is, also, the Minister of Public In- struction, but found them closed. At the Palais du Congres we were more successful. Here we gained ready admittance, and found the two branches in session. They appeared decorous bodies, and deliberated with a gravity hardly natural to the Bel- gian manners. The edifice, which is magnificent, is ornamented with fluted Doric columns and appropriate sculptures. Marble stairs on each side of a spacioas hall ascend to the two Chambers of Parliament, which are elegantly fitted up for the reception of Members. The public are admitted into both chambers during the debates, females as well as males ; and for this accommoda- tion, the Chamber of Deputies contains a capacious gallery. Belgium proclaimed its independence in 1830. It is governed by a constitutional monarchy ; and the whole system of govern- ment is based upon the broadest principles - of rational freedom