and the dish would have been a complete and most excellent dinner. Not wishing to appear eccentric, I ordered a pint of champagne, and observing, when I had dismissed my tart, that when I took the little bottle from its icy bed, and tilted it up, it seemed-although to my knowledge I had really done nothing to offend it—rather disposed to decline to hold any further communication with the glass beneath it, I tapped my table, and as soon as the gentle sound brought, as it instantly did bring, a waiter's face close to my own, I asked for my bill. While it was preparing, I acknowledged to myself, without hesitation, that I had very much enjoyed all I had seen, all I had heard, all I had eaten, and all I had drunk. The room, however, was so over-lighted, the glare from the lamps and looking-glasses was so oppressive, the feat I had performed, and the feast I had enjoyed, were altogether so unsuited to the fixed regimen of my life, that, as I had now not only witnessed but had assisted in the process of dining at a restaurateur's at Paris, I determined I would not do so again; and accordingly, excepting three days on which I accepted invitations of ceremony I could not decline, seated at an open window, I dined quietly in my lodging by myself, during the whole period of my short residence in the bright, gay, and happy metropolis of France. PLACE DE LA BASTILLE. ON descending from an omnibus I found myself in a large, long, irregular, uncomfortable-looking open space, called the Place de la Bastille, formed by the junction of the Quai du Canal St. Martin, of the Boulevart Beaumarchais, of the Rue de la Roquette, Rue de St. Antoine, Rue du Faubourg St. Antoine, Rue de Charenton, Rue de Lyon, and of_the Boulevarts Bourdon and Contrescarpe, leading to the Pont d'Austerlitz. At the point of concentration at which all these cross-roads met, I saw before me a lofty bronze column, surmounted by a perfectly naked, lengthy, thin, herring-stomached, long-backed, flying-Mercury-looking mountebank, with a pair of wings on his shoulders, the whole newly gilt all over, as if it had just flown, and for a moment-merely to take in wind-had perched there from California. On the outside of the column, from the bottom to the top. in three strata, each representing the result of one day's revolutionary havoc, were inscribed in letters of gold, so small that at a few feet elevation they were to my eyes utterly illegible, a variety of names. On the base was legibly engraved the following inscription, which briefly told me the whole story of the column: The monument was surrounded on all four sides by massive iron railings, within which, at the foot of the column all * Extract from the law of the 13th December, 1830, Article 13. A monument shall be consecrated to the memory From the law of the 9th March, 1833, This monument shall be erected on the Place To the Glory Of those French Citizens the way round, I observed a confused pile of faded wreaths (immortelles) and of branches of laurel, the leaves of which had become crisp and brown. Just as I was about to enter the door, I heard some steps heavily descending, and, accordingly waiting for a few moments, there appeared, first the balustrade legs, then the protuberant waistcoat, and at last the warm, intelligent countenance of a brother Englishman-who, as he passed me, said, laying great emphasis on each of his nouns of number, "There are two hundred and forty-three steps, Sir! I've just counted 'em!" And as it was exactly what I did not want to do, I put down the figures hot as I received them, and then, ascending a well-staircase, every bright brass step of which rang as I trod on it, I at last reached the summit, and for some time, absorbed in historical recollections, looked down upon the spot beneath, where the Bastille and all its included horrors had once existed. On happening to cast my eyes upwards, I almost started at the appearance of the great gilt strip-stark-naked figure just above me. It was certainly beautifully balanced. His whole person, from the crown of his head to the extremity of his pointed toe, which almost alone rested on its pedestal, was of bright, glittering gold. His long, thin neck was extended; his wings appeared almost to flutter on his back; and as an equipoise to the leg extended behind, he held in one hand a broken chain. in the other a burning torch. Who this high-flown, high-bred personage might be-for besides being an angel he was evidently a gentleman-I could not exactly divine; and for several minutes I had been thinking it over and over, or rather round and round, as I descended towards the earth, when, on reaching the bottom, I perceived before me-no doubt he had purposely placed himself in that position-the man in the handsome cocked hat, who had charge of the column. Taking off my humble round one to him, and at the same moment slipping something into his hand, I asked him what the magnificent statue 66 en or," " which I had just been admiring, represented? "Monsieur!" said he, with an extended hand and with a dignified smile, "c'est le Génie de la Liberté !"† which, I sup * In gold. Sir, it is the genius of Liberty. pose, said I to myself, as I very slowly walked away, must surely mean--" her Ladyship's present husband." HORSE ESTABLISHMENT. I WAS on the point of asking an idle man, who, like myself, was mooning about the Place de la Concorde, where I should be likely to find a fiacre, when I observed one instinctively driving towards me. It was one of those little rickety, loosejointed quadrirotal or four-wheeled buggies,-with a head, apron, and small driving-box in front containing a coachman in a black glazed hat, and blue jacket ornamented with a bright silver plaquet, which are obliged to go anywhere within the wide world of Paris for 22 sous. "A la Barrière de Charenton !" said I to the driver, who, without making any other answer than a nod, leant backwards, and, putting into my hand a little card of the size and 344 Conserver ce numéro en cas de réclamation.* with the inscription as here given, we all jogged on at the rate of about four miles an hour. The horse, for fear of the whip, did not dare to walk, and would not trot any faster without breaking into a canter, which was contrary to law; it was evidently useless, therefore, to say a word on the subject. However, it was a beautiful day, and as all I wanted was to be permitted now and then to look about me, and now and then to think a little, the horse, vehicle, and driver suited me exactly. I was now in one of the worst parts of Paris, and it was impossible to help observing that almost every time the horse nodded his head, as if, by order of the police, he were counting the number of steps he took, the prospect on each side of me became a little more gloomy. The houses became frailer, the lime appeared gradually to be changing into mud, slates into tiles, iron *Keep this number in case of a complaint. ornamental lamp-posts into plain wooden gibbets, with outstretched horizontal arms about four feet long, at the cxtremity of which, swinging in the wind, hung an inferior description of lamp. In looking at them I could hardly help shuddering, so clearly did they explain to me the horrid meaning of the cry, À la lanterne !"* which had been the death-warrant of so many thousands of people. Indeed, if I had never heard of such a cry, it would have been impossible for me to have driven by all these gibbets without noticing their ghastly appearance. 66 As soon as we arrived within about fifty yards of the point I had mentioned, the driver pulled gently at his reins, the horse very readily stopped-in fact, we all stopped. Leaning towards the driver, I paid him 22 sous; but instead of two more "pour boire "t-the customary gratification-I gave him five, for which he expressed himself exceedingly grateful; and I was thinking how very little gratitude, friendship, or good fellowship one could buy in London for three halfpence, when I observed a douanier glance very scrupulously at my pockets, while at the same moment his companion, opening the lid, peeped into a small basket in the hands of a poor woman walking beside me. In short, we were passing the Barrière de Charenton, at which--as at all others around Paris-the officers of the octroi examine everything that enters or goes out of the metropolis. On inquiry I found that the great stables of the omnibus company I had come to visit were within a hundred yards, and as soon as I reached them I delivered to the chief of the establishment the note of introduction in my favour which M. Denault, near the Barrière of the Etoile, had been so obliging as to give to me. Vous êtes Anglais, Monsieur? said he, with a very friendly smile, as if an answer in the affirmative would be, as it evidently proved, pleasing to him. He then, with the utmost kindness, took me over every portion of his establishment his stables, infirmary, forges, supplies of water, and storehouses of corn, hay and straw. As it would be tedious to the generality of my readers * Away with him to the lamp-post! Are you an Englishman, Sir? + Drink-money. |