covered with them. Besides the ordinary purposes of reflecting faces and dresses, they produce the agreeable illusion of making a small room appear like the saloons of a palace. We visited one or two of the porcelain manufactories; but while the wares are superior in quality, the extent and management of the establishments are nothing in comparison with Wedgewood's or Bloor's in England.

On another pleasant day, in company with a friend whose unremitted attentions were of the utmost service to us, we made a circuit in a different quarter of the city, embracing a great variety of interesting objects, the first of which was the Corn Market. This curious structure is situated in a central part of Paris, not far from the Palais Royal. It is in the form of a rotunda, with a dome of cast iron, the diameter of which, at the bottom, is 131 feet. The light is admitted by a lantern in the centre. Its whole construction is perfectly unique. On the area of the interior, immense quantities of grain and flour, in bags and casks, are exposed for sale. This is only one of the hundred markets, whence the capital is plentifully supplied with provisions of every kind. The buildings erected within the last twenty years for the accommodation of the public have cost the state fifty millions of francs; and the money has been well expended, though not perhaps in a very economical manner. Most of the improvements were commenced under Napoleon, and have since been completed. These have added not less to the cleanliness and beauty of the city than to its convenience.

On our way to the Garden of Plants, we passed through the Place de Greve, on the right bank of the Seine, and in front of the Hotel de Ville, or town-house, which is an antique building, celebrated only for being associated with the sanguinary scenes of the Revolution. On the area in front, most of the executions took place, during the Reign of Terror in 1793, when the pavement was literally deluged in blood. Here the guillotine is still erected, and all public executions take place. The head of one criminal was taken off during our visit to Paris; but the show was over, before it came to our knowledge. The loss of such a spectacle did not occasion much regret. Those of our countrymen who witnessed it are of the opinion, that this mode of execution is less barbarous and decidedly preferable to hanging. In a moment the business is finished. The head and body are tumbled into a basket, and removed from the sight of the multitude, the whole operation occupying less than five minutes.

Just above this place, a broad and deep canal, extending from the site of the old Bastile, opens into the Seine, and is crossed at its mouth by a handsome bridge. It forms a spacious basin for boats,

and its banks would seem to be a convenient place for a deposit of heavy articles, although they are not used for such purposes to any extent. This channel was formerly subterranean, and communicated with the gloomy dungeons of the Bastile, being sufficiently spacious for the passage of troops. The prison itself, so celebrated in history, is now in ruins. Napoleon formed the plan of a colossal elephant, to stand upon the site. I examined the monster, which is fifty feet long and forty high, with a brood of young ones, as models, about him. The animal appeared to me badly proportioned, and the whole project unnatural, grotesque, and in bad taste, unworthy of the genius of the Emperor. This beast was to supply the city with water issuing from his trunk, drawing it from the aqueduct called the Ourcq. The work will probably never be completed. A large wooden shell of a building rises over the contemplated fountain.

Crossing the beautiful bridge of Austerlitz, which is the uppermost over the Seine, opposite Paris, and the arches of which are of cast iron, we arrived at the Royal Garden of Plants, on the left bank of the river. It is one of the greatest ornaments of the French metropolis. It is chiefly indebted for its inestimable treasures, as well as for the beauty of its design, to the efforts of the celebrated Buffon. Cuvier, Haüy, and Humboldt, scarcely less distinguished in their respective departments of natural science, have followed the footsteps of their great predecessor, and made this museum every thing, which either science or taste can require. A student might pass not only days, but months and years to advantage, in the gardens, the halls, and schools comprised within this great temple of nature. It contains a botanic garden, a menagerie, a museum of natural history and anatomy, together with numerous apartments, in which public lectures are delivered. These several compartments are all upon a large scale, and rendered as complete as possible; whence some idea of the extent of the whole establishment may be obtained.

The location of the Garden of Plants is admirable, not only in point of soil and other advantages, but of natural scenery and picturesque beauty. A broad and magnificent esplanade opens from the bank of the Seine, rising by a gentle acclivity towards the south, and presenting a full view of the halls at the farther extremity. Above these, a charming spiral walk ascends to the top of an eminence of considerable altitude, overlooking the garden, and commanding an extensive prospect of Paris and its environs. Below, the Seine rolls quietly on beneath its numerous bridges, and by its splendid palaces. The sloping sides of the hill are beautifully shaded with forest trees and evergreens, such as love a mountainous country. Among these,

the most conspicuous is a veteran cedar of Lebanon, planted by the celebrated botanist Jussieu, whose system of classification has been adopted in the arrangement of the plants. His favourite exotic from the Holy Land lost its head during the stormy period of the Revolution, the monarch of the woods sharing a common fate with the sovereign of the nation. It was subsequently in danger of being cut down, to boil the camp-kettles of the Cossacks. The allied armies had the barbarity, (almost equaling that of their ancestors,) to threaten to bivouac in this splendid garden; and nothing but the spirited remonstrances of Baron Humboldt prevented a measure, which would have rendered it a scene of desolation.

Half way up the eminence, beneath the overarching branches of a copse of trees, is a bust of Linnæus, the presiding genius of the place, and near it the solitary grave of one of his disciples. The former was hurled from its base, amidst the wanton excesses of the Revolution, but has since been restored. On the summit of the hill rises a little Grecian temple, supported by eight pillars, and furnished with seats around the circumference, where visitants may repose. It has a sun-dial on the top, accompanied with a lens, by which a gun is discharged at 12 o'clock. A Latin motto states, that the hours pass unnumbered, when the skies are not serene.

The Botanic Garden contains upwards of seven thousand plants, which are all classed and labeled. They are arranged in beds bordered with box or other shrubs, exhibiting not less taste than scientific accuracy. The Seine affords every facility for watering the garden, and supplies little lakes for the cultivation of aquatic plants. A range of green-houses six hundred feet in length, and furnishing every variety of artificial climate, runs through the grounds. Besides the ordinary appendages of a Botanic Garden, the visiter here finds some striking peculiarities, such as specimens of different soils and manures, affording a comparative estimate of their fertility-models of the various kinds of fences and hedges-a kitchen garden containing all sorts of vegetables, used for food in any country-and samples of all descriptions of fruit-trees, with the best modes of training them. These valuable appendages render the Garden of Plants not less serviceable to the practical purposes of agriculture and horticulture, than to the abstract science of botany.

The menagerie far exceeds in every respect the show of animals in the Tower of London. A numerous congregation of the animal kingdom is here assembled from the four quarters of the world. The collection of beasts is rare as well as extensive; and the aviary contains all the varieties of birds to be found in France. Most of these tenants

of the Garden instead of being imprisoned in gloomy and dirty cells, as in the Royal Menagerie of England, have little territories of their own, ornamented with chateaux, and surrounded with those natural localities, which they are fond of frequenting in their wild state, rendering the loss of their freedom less intolerable. We saw bears climbing large trees, such as they are wont to ascend in forests; herds of deer gamboling in little lawns; and patridges secreting themselves amidst their favourite evergreens. These appurtenances have a tendency to preserve the natural habits of the animals, and to exhibit them to the best possible advantage.

The museum of Natural History is such an extensive establishment, that a mere description of the several compartments, without entering at all into detail, would exceed the limits of this sketch. Suffice it to say, that every object in the three kingdoms of nature, which can furnish illustrations of science, or data for philosophical researches. is here to be found exactly in its place, arranged according to the best systems extant. In short, a student may pursue his investigations here with as much certainty of the facts, and with more facility of examining materials, than he could by an actual visit to their localities. The result of the labours of many eminent men during their whole lives, in making collections and arranging them, is here seen at one view; and speculative theories may at once be brought to the test of truth. Of the numerous departments, we were most pleased with those containing the organic remains of animals and vegetables, whence Cuvier drew the materials of his work on geology. The cabinets of human and comparative anatomy are also extremely interesting, illus trating every point of analogy or discrepancy between the structure of man and the inferior tribes of creation.

The establishment has a large library, embracing nearly every work in natural science, that has been published in any language, age, or country. Lectures open to the public, and free of all expense, are statedly given in the amphitheatre, on all the subjects connected with the institution. They are well attended, and have a most salutary influence, by diffusing the instructions of able professors through all classes of the community. The Garden of Plants belongs to the government, and is supported at an annual expense of more than fifty thousand dollars, giving employment to about two hundred persons.

LETTER XXXVIII.

EXCURSION TO LA GRANGE.

December, 1825.

OUR visit to La Grange occupied four days, which will often be recalled and fondly remembered as among the happiest of my life. A knowledge of the fact, that General La Fayette is frequently overrun with company, and that he was about to leave his country residence with his family, to pass the winter in Paris, half induced us to relinquish the idea of visiting La Grange for the present; when some of our friends returned from a similar excursion, bearing to us a most friendly note from the General, and expressing a hope that we would visit him before going to Italy. Such a kind and cordial invitation removed all doubts, and was promptly accepted.

On the morning of the 27th of December, we took the Diligence for the village of Rosé, within about two miles of which La Grange is situated, forty miles in an easterly direction from Paris. Our exit from the metropolis was through the Place Royal, the Place Bastille, and the Place du Trone; thence by the Barrier, Palace, and Forest of Vincennes, up the banks of the Marne, which is one of the largest branches of the Seine, being nearly as broad and deep as the river, in which it loses its waters and its name. In one place it makes a circuitous route of several miles round a high peninsula, which is only half a mile across, and through which a subterranean canal has been cut, navigable for boats. For the first few miles, this route presented many interesting objects. The Palace of Vincennes is a large venerable pile, without much ornament, and occupied at present as a state prison. Several events of some interest to the traveller have transpired within its walls. Here the two great Princes of Condé were imprisoned for years; and here Charles V. Cardinal Mazarine, and Henry V. of England expired. The forest of Vincennes covers a wide tract, consisting of a small growth of natural woods, through which avenues and vistas open in all directions.

At the distance of eight or ten miles from Paris, the road becomes comparatively dull, leading through an agricultural country not remarkable for its fertility, and studded with little villages, which add nothing to its beauty. Midway in the journey, the Diligence stopped at a small inn to take breakfast or dinner, call it which you will, as the bill of fare is generally much the same, not even excepting soup. On the plate from which I took my mutton chop, was a representation of General