ET. 36.]

PARIS-JARDIN DES PLANTES-ADVENTURE.

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mation from the generals who had headed divisions, but collected his knowledge principally from the peasants, who had been spectators.

I have seen also the Jardin des Plantes. Oh, my dear M——, you should have been there too. The first thing you see in this vast entertaining space, which is as large as Hyde-park, is the menagerie. A noble lion, of the largest size, is there. I tried to provoke him, shook my cane, and threw something at him; but he disdained me with a royal look. Besides a lioness, there is a little dog who barks at her and pulls her by the ear: they have been in the same cage many years. There is also another lion, somewhat younger, who will not give himself the trouble to rise, but generally sleeps; his side-look is very striking. Several bears are seen climbing trees, in their ditch-garden below, for apples put there to tempt them. They often sit in a begging posture, and get bread from the passengers. They are fine large animals. For tigers, I think we are better off in England; but the elephant is a wonderful sight. The man reaches up only to the height of his leg, where it joins with the body; his height, I think, must be twelve or fourteen feet. It is curious to see such a mass of life, while his lithe proboscis lifts up minute crumbs at his keeper's bidding.

Passing from the elephant, I met an English party, with whom I was not acquainted, but who, like myself, were searching about for the cabinet of natural curiosities in the museum. As I have found the English rather shy in forming acquaintance, I was determined, though chance threw us together, not to run the risk of being shied, and so kept aloof from them, and alone. One of the ladies—and, between ourselves, rather a handsome one-showed me by her manner that she was aware of the "Great Twalmley!"*

Campbell used to tell a story of a man who, coming into collision with

After giggling and coquetting a good deal, when she observed one of her friends running in a wrong direction, she called out, loud enough for me to hear," Come back, come back, he cried in grief!" by which I interpreted that she had read "Lord Ullin," &c. . . . But to the cabinet of natural history. Bless me, what a collection! It is literally Noah's ark stuffed and preserved. Serpents of all size, from the boa constrictor that swallows an ox, to the blind worm; and birds, from the ostrich, nine feet high, to the humming-bird of an inch. All possible shells, and minerals, and quadrupeds, fishes and reptiles. I spent a day in it, from eleven till six, and came away with my mind so exhausted, that I thought I should have gone into a fever; yet, till it was all over, I did not feel that my pulse was raised, or my eyes weakened and dazzled. The Jardin des Plantes is a noble exhibition. At the head of quadrupeds stands the giraffe, killed by Vaillant in Africa, which appears to be sixteen feet high. The vegetable part is no less perfect and amusing.

I skip from one subject to another, perhaps unconnectedly, but you will forgive me for mentioning a thing that occurs to me. In conversing with Schlegel on the subject of Shakspeare, he told me he had discovered a circumstance in his life, which had escaped the notice of all English commentators. Say nothing of this, but I will tell it you when we meet; it will remind you of something regarding Sydenham fair, and make you smile.

I have treated you like a great politician in many of my letters, and have told you all that I remarked of the symptoms of the public mind. Since coming to Paris, I have been less curious about the opinions of individuals;

another, for a place at the fire in a coffee-house, said, "Perhaps you do not know to whom you are speaking?" "No," said the other, "I do not." Know, then, that I am the great Twalmley, inventor of the patent box-iron!”

ÆT. 36.]

PARIS-PUBLIC FEELING-OLD ÉMIGRÉS.

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for, when you meet an enlightened Parisian, you feel it to be a point of good breeding, not to trouble him much on so delicate a subject. But I remark that the name of the "great monster" is pronounced with much more respect here than in the provinces. When you call him Buonaparte, they immediately correct you, and call him Napoleon, or l'Empereur. Sometimes, out of policy, I give way to this, when I have in view to get information from the party; but, when the Napoleonist is not worth keeping terms with, I persevere in bitterly calling him "Buonaparte," or the "Prisoner of Elba." I told I told you, I believe, that it is disagreeable to meet with those who have been prisoners in England. Those fellows will come up to you, soliciting a conversation, by saying, "Ah, you are English; I speak a littel Anglish." All for the sake of an opportunity of saying something savage of England, where they complain of having been treated barbarously. At first I used to take this in earnest, and tried to soften or remonstrate with them; but when I cannot shake off those speakers of a littel Anglish, I now find it the best way to jaw them, and laugh heartily, telling them, "Ay, you were sharply looked after-no escaping-no, nothing of that sort. Well, you look hearty, after all your cruel treatment. It does a man good to have known a littel adversity, or such like."

The Parisians speak but slightingly of their constitution. Their legislative body appears to be the same that it was under Buonaparte, but I have not yet bought the pamphlet that describes their constitution. I hope to bring it with me to Sydenham. The great topic of conversation is St. Domingo. The French, I hope and trust, will have to abandon it-It will cost them twenty or thirty millions of louis-d'ors, and the lives of half a million of human beings; and thirty millions is, perhaps, one half of all the money at present in the French dominions.

With regard to the good Dr. Jenner, how sorry I am that I got from him no direct commission to execute; it would have been to me the utmost gratification. With regard to vaccination, I think it seems to be as perfectly established here as in England. The provincial medical men with whom I have chanced to meet, speak of practising it as commonly as with us. Apropos to medicineamong the rare things to be seen, the medical school is not the least. There are preparations in wax of the human body, in all states of anatomy and disease. The execution could not be more like Nature, unless the anatomist, like Pygmalion, could obtain a boon from heaven-to turn the imitation of flesh into the reality. But as Pygmalion took his beloved statue into keeping, I doubt if the wax would keep as well after the miracle as before it. These waxen things, by the way, have saved me some few francs in the way of dinners; for, wherever the soul may lie, my memory, with regard to them, lies all in my stomach; and I have several times dined on a peach and dry bread, in consequence of the tender recollections which I carried away of the Ecole de Médecine.

To-morrow I am to be at Madame de Staël's, where the Duke of Wellington is expected. I was introduced to him at his own house, where he was polite enough; but the man who took me was so stupid as not to have told him the only little circumstance about me that could have entitled me to his notice. Madame de Staël asked him if he had seen me? He said a Mr. &c., had been introduced to him, but he thought it was one of the thousands of that name from the same country; he did not know that it was the Thomas; but, after which, his Grace took my address in his memorandum-book, adding, he was sorry he had not known me sooner.

*

T. C.

ET. 36.]

PARIS-LOUVRE-PANTHEON-VERSAILLES.

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PARIS, October 15, 1814.

After the Louvre-I know scarcely anything that is quite transcendant. I have been again to see the Jardin des Plantes, which I think comes next to it. The concentration of all Nature's works-vegetable, mineral, and animal-into one museum, is indeed a sight worth travelling to see. The Pantheon is a magnificent place-the dome is everything that Greek architecture can do; but still the effect falls far short of the Gothic, on a similar scale. The tombs of Voltaire, Rousseau, and others, are below. Their vaults-the only cleanly things I have seen in Paris-are so neat and tidy, that they present the image of rather a comfortable English pantry, than of anything that can overawe the mind.

The French acting in tragedy I do not like: but until I see Talma again, which will be, I trust, on Wednesday, I shall not decide. Their comic acting is perfection. Fleury, when he plays a French Marquis, is-what we so seldom see on our stage-a fop in spirit, but in manners an easy gentleman. He comes in, and rattles to six people, who eagerly wish to speak; they can't get in a word; he speaks, and prattles them all down. He gets drunkmeets an old father, and recounts to him all the follies of his friend the prodigal son of the old fellow-slaps him -laughs at him-but is still the gentleman-even when the words stick in his mouth.

The intention was to

I have been again at Versailles. make the basis of the palace a mountain; it is indeed a mountain scaled by magnificent stairs. But the palace itself is not large enough for the basis-and the trees are clipped with horrible formality. The grand and small Trianons consummate all possible ideas of magnificent furniture. The village is shown where poor Marie Antoinette