accommodation. In passing through the Palais Royal, we entered the little shop of a boot cleaner. In a moment I was mounted upon a dirty sopha, to which I ascended by steps, and from which I had a complete commanding view of the concourse of gay people, who are always passing and repassing in this idle place; the paper of the day, stretched upon a little wooden frame, was placed in my hand, each foot was fixed upon an iron anvil, one man brushed off the dirt, and another put on a shining blacking, a third brushed my clothes, and a fourth presented a bason of water and towel to me. The whole of this comfortable operation lasted about four minutes. My dirty valets made me a low bow for four sols, which, poor as the recompense was, exceeded their expectations by three pieces of that petty coin.

A Billet from a Member of Parliament in the year 1820, to a First Lord of the Treasury.

Honoured Sir,-The money you bid me is too little; I really can't afford to take less than I asked you; therefore, if you will not give me my price, I am determined to vote according to my conscience.

I am honoured, Sir,

Your most obsequious humble Servant,

HENRY TRUckle.

Turn-again-Lane, Oct. 12, 1820..

N. B. I have ten years* of my time to come, which should be an object.

A French Journal, printed at Rouen, in Normandy, last month, contains the following singular paragraph:

The success of the French revolution killed Burke, the orator; the battle of Austerlitz finished Pitt; and Fox died through joy on seeing himself in place.

THE STRANGER IN FRANCE; OR,

A Tour from Devonshire to Paris.

The Palace of the Petit Trianon.—We passed through the most romantic avenues, to a range of rural buildings, called the Queen's farm, the dairy, the mill, and the woodmen's cottages; which, during the queen's residence at the Petit Trianon, were occupied by the most elegant and accomplished young noblemen of the court. In front of them, a lake terminated on one side by a rustic tower, spreads itself. These buildings are much neglected, and are falling into rapid ruin.

In other times, when neatness and order reigned throughout this elysian scenery, and gracefully

*To explain the above nota bené, the Parliaments are then to be for fourteen years.

spread its luxuriant beauties at the feet of its former captivating owner, upon the mirror of that lake now filled with reeds and rushes, in elegant little pleasure boats, the illustrious party was accustomed to enjoy the freshness of the evening, to fill the surrounding groves with the melody of the song, which was faintly answered by the tender flute, whose musician was concealed in that rustic tower, whose graceful base the honey suckle and eglantine no longer encircle, and whose winding access, once decorated with flowers of the richest beauty and perfume, is now overgrown with moss, decayed, and falling peace-meal to the ground.

Near the farm, in corresponding pleasure grounds, the miller's house particularly impressed us with delight. All its characteristics were elegantly observed. A rivulet still runs on one side of it, which formerly used to turn a little wheel to complete the illusion. The apartments, which must have been' once enchanting, now present nothing but gaping beams, broken ceilings, and shattered casements. The wainscots of its little cabinets, exhibit only a tablet, upon which are rudely penciled, the motley initials, love verses, and memorandums of its various visitors,

The shade of the ivy, which, upon all occasions, seems destined to perform the last offices to the departing monuments of human ingenuity, has here exercised its gloomy function. Whilst we were roving about, we were obliged to take refuge from a thunder-storm in what appeared to us a

mere barn; upon our entering it, we found it to be an elegant little ball-room, much disfigured, and greened over by damp and neglect. In other parts of this petit Paradis, are caves of artificial rock, which have been formed at an immense expence, in which were formerly beds of moss, and through which clear streams of water glided, Belvidere temples, and scattered cottages, each differing from its neighbour in character, but all according in taste and beauty. The opera house, which stands alone, is a miniature of the splendid one in the palace of Versailles.

The sylvan ball-room, is an oblong square, lined with beautiful treillages, surmounted with vases of flowers. The top is open. When the queen gave her balls here, the ground was covered by a temporary flooring, and the whole was brilliantly lighted. As we passed by the palace, we saw, in the queen's little library, several persons walking.

Could the enchanting beauty of Austria, and the once incensed idol of the gay, and the gallant, arise from her untimely tomb, and behold her most sacred recesses of delight, thus rudely exposed, and converted into scenes of low, and holiday festivity; the temples which she designed, defaced, their statues overthrown, her walks overgrown and entangled; the clear mirror of the winding lake, upon the placid surface of which once shone the reflected form of the Belvidere, and the retreats of elegant taste covered with the reedy greenness of the standing pool, and all the

fairy fabric of her graceful fancy, thus dissolving in decay, the devoted hapless Marie would add another sigh to the many which her aching heart has already heaved!

St. Rocque. We went to the church of St. Rocque, in the Rue St. Honorè. As we entered, the effect of a fine painting of our Saviour crucified, upon which the sun was shining with great glory, placed at the extremity of the church, and seen through several lessening arches of faint, increasing shade, was very grand. This church had been more than once the scene of revolutionary carnage. Its elegant front is much disfigured, and the doors are perforated in a great number of places by the ball of cannon and the shot of musketry. Mass was performing in the church; but we saw only a few worshippers, and those were chiefly old women and little girls.

Hotel des Invalides.-From St. Rocque we proceeded to the Hotel des Invalides, the chapel and dome of which are so justly celebrated. The front is inferior to the military hospital at Chelsea, to which it bears some resemblance. The chapel is converted into the Hall of Victory, in which, with great taste, are suspended, under descriptive medallions, the banners of the enemies of the Republic which have been taken during the late war, the numbers of which are immense. The same decoration adorns the pilasters and gallery at the vast magnificent dome at the end of the hall.