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tance is about eighteen miles, and is reached in three quarters of an hour. The splendor of royalty, or at least of royal dwelling, as exhibited here, exceeds everything I had previously imagined. The grounds and gardens around the palace form a modern paradise. Water is forced up by machinery from the Seine to a reservoir on the top of a neighboring hill, whence it flows down to supply the numerous fountains around the palace. Many of these fountains are very beautiful, and are ranged through the extensive grounds with much taste : some are in a circle, with a large one in the centre ; others in the crescent form ; and again they run along each side of the way, forming an avenue of fountains. Near the main palace is the Petit-Trianon, the favorite residence of Marie Antoinette.
The palace itself is still more wonderful than the grounds. The rooms in it are so numerous, that, to pass through them, we had a walk of five miles ! and, had all the designs of Louis Philippe been completed, there would have been five or ten miles more. The · walls are lined with either paintings or statuary. Some of these paintings, commemorating Napoleon's victories, are of enor. mous size. In one of the rooms is the celebrated painting, by David, of his marriage with Josephine. All his victories are here painted in detail ; in fact, the warlike history of France, from the earliest period, is here delineated in historical order by paintings in the highest style of art. Some of the statuary is very fine. We were shown the private apartments of Marie Antoinette, which are very small, though neat; and the staircase by which she made her escape from the main dining-room to these apartments, when her life was in danger from the brutality of the infuriated populace.
The following day was the Sabbath—that is, it was so in Britain and America, but Paris has no Sabbath. The stores were all open, and most of them seemed to offer greater attractions than usual. Fancy articles, trinkets, candies, gingerbread, flowers, fruit, &c., were everywhere displayed for sale in unusual profusion and prominence. I first sought a Wesleyan church, mentioned in my guide-book, but did not succeed in finding it. I then went to the Episcopal church, in the Faubourg St. Honoré. Here I had to pay at the door ; in other words, to purchase a ticket, on showing which to the pew-opener, I was led to a seat. The sermon was a very ordinary one, and the church by no means full. It is difficult for a person, not conversant with the French language, to spend the Sabbath profitably in the exercises of public worship, Paris being but ill provided with English places of worship.
In the evening, the gardens of the Tuileries, which are opposite the Hotel Meurice, were literally crowded with people ; and the Champs Elysees, a fine public park, also near this, was thronged. The latter was a scene of the wildest gayety. Every species of amusment and recreation seemed to be pursued with the most eager avidity. Here was pleasure seeking rampant, almost delirious. Swings, singing girls, equestrian performances, feats of agility, conjuring tricks, seemed to afford the most extravagant delight to the thronging thousands who filled the gardens. The whole appearance of the city was that of a grand gala day—such as the Fourth of July at home.
On Monday morning, I commenced regularly the tour of Paris, beginning with the Chamber of Deputies. The room in which the Deputies meet was built hastily, when the first Assembly met,
just after the formation of the Republic, and, though somewhat rough, answers every purpose. It is of the semi-circular form ; the Speaker's seat being in the centre, and the two extreme parties occupying the right and left of the Chamber, while the moderates sit between them, opposite the Speaker. It has accommodations for seven hundred members. Immediately adjoining it is the one in which the Deputies met during the reign of Louis Philippe--a very elegant room, though much smaller than the other.
While passing out, we saw a company of the National Guard. This body of men consists in all of about one hundred thousand ; only a few, how. ever, do service at once, so that each individual, in time of peace, is not required to turn out more than four times a year. They are all volunteers, and do not usually receive any pay. Many wealthy young men are members of this Guard. · The School of the Fine Arts (Palais and Ecole des Beaux Arts) contains a great many curious things, casts of Grecian sculpture, paintings, &c.; also copies, on the scale of one inch to one hundred, of many of the public buildings and ruins of Rome. Those who gain the prize given by the Academie des Beaux Arts, on certain conditions, are sent to Rome, to study there for three years, at the expense of the Government.
The Column of July, erected to the memory of those who fell on the side of the people, during the memorable three days of 1830, stands on the site once occupied by the Bastile. It is composed of bronze, and is very beautiful. It cost two hundred and forty thousand dollars ; is one hundred and sixty-three feet high, in addition to the pedestal on which it stands ; is twelve feet in diameter, and contains one hundred and sixty-three thousand pounds of metal. A spiral stair, of two hundred and thirty-five steps, runs up the centre to the top. A large gilt figure, representing Liberty on tip-toe, surmounts the whole. From the top, the view of the city is very good, as, in addition to the height of the pillar, it stands on an eminence. The cylinders of brass, of which it is composed, not being supported by any masonry within, I could feel sensibly the monument vibrating, by a strong wind which was blowing while I was upon it. Though, of course, in no danger, the mere thought of being precipitated from so great a height was anything but pleasurable. In vaults