We were pointed out the house where the celebrated Cuvier lived, and which was his favorite residence. Here was his life's labor, the Zoological Cabinet, which he arranged according to his system. Only fancy a house about four hundred feet long, having three stories, and all filled up with nearly two hundred thousand specimens; and the preparations are almost as fine as the animal was in life.

The Museum of Comparative Anatomy, also, was the labor of Cuvier. The collections of mineralogy and geology are very extensive; but I did not have much time to examine them, nor are they as much in my line as some other things. The specimens of precious stones were curious, and I was pleased to see amber containing perfect insects, perhaps antediluvian insects. And so we employed three hours upon what I should have liked to pa.s.s three whole days. But it would take years of diligent study to understand what is here to be seen.

If a person walks about Paris and inquires much as to the history of the city and its improvements, as we Americans say, he will soon find that Paris has been chiefly indebted for her grandeur to Henry IV., Louis XIV., Napoleon, and Louis Philippe. Bridges, places, arches, and fountains show how much Paris owes to these rulers. Of fountains there are, I should think, nearly a hundred in the city, and some are exceedingly fine. The Seine is not much of an affair. With us, it would be only a muddy brook. Some of the bridges that span it are fine. I have seen nothing in Paris more picturesque than the prospect from the Pont Neuf. It is my favorite stand point. Off to the right are the towers of Notre Dame, and the long line of old houses which tell of centuries upon centuries since they were built; and on the left of the river are the Hotel de Ville, St. Germain L'Auxerrois; and some of the most venerable streets. From the bell tower of St. Germain the signal was rung for the infamous ma.s.sacre of the Protestants, on St. Bartholomew's eve, 23d of August, 1572. In the Rue de l'Arbre sec, at No. 14, was Admiral Coligny murdered on that occasion. It was formerly known as the Hotel Ponthieu, but is to be demolished in a few weeks, to make way for improvements. We felt a desire to see the spot where the Bastile formerly stood, and which was destroyed by the mob in July, 1789, and the key of which is now at Mount Vernon, having been sent as a present to Washington. This was the theatre of the greatest resistance made by the insurgents in June, 1848; and here, too, it was that the Archbishop of Paris met with his death. On the site of the Bastile, Louis Philippe laid the foundation of a column which commemorates the revolution of 1830. This column is of bronze, and is one hundred and sixty-three feet high, in addition to the pedestal of white marble, supported by immense granite blocks. The diameter of the column is, I believe, twelve feet, and it cost about twelve hundred thousand francs. There is no masonry in the interior. The staircase is suspended, and the whole concern vibrates with the pa.s.sing breeze. I did not ascend, you may be sure. The Corinthian capital, over which is a gallery with rails, is very beautiful, and is the largest casting in bronze that is known--or, rather, was, for I _think_ that the Amazon at the London Exhibition will take the palm for size. On the globe which surmounts the pillar stands a colossal gilt figure, which represents Liberty. On the bands which encircle the pillar are the names of those who were killed in the three days of July, amounting to fire hundred and four. All around and beneath are interred the remains of these patriots.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Colonne de Juillet.]

We are going to take the Cemetery at Pere la Chaise for to-morrow's excursion; and the rest of the day I must devote to letters home, as the packet day is close at hand.

Yours,

WELD.

Letter 29.

PARIS.

DEAR CHARLEY:--

This morning, as we were taking a very comfortable breakfast at the coffee-room of our hotel, and as I was reading Galignani's daily paper, I found a person at the next table addressing me, in nasal tw.a.n.g, "Stranger, is this fellow Galignani a reliable chap?" I a.s.sured him that he pa.s.sed for an authority. Laying down his paper on the table, he pathetically described the tramp which the programme for the sight-seeing of yesterday's paper had given him, and declared his inability to keep up with the instructions for that day. Finding that he was a character, I carried on the conversation; and he talked most edifyingly to all in the room, as he spoke loud enough to be heard at the very end. I inquired if he had been to London. His reply was, "I reckon I have; why, I come on purpose to see the _Crystial_ Palace."

"Well, sir," I said, "and how did you like it?" "O, that exhibition is some!" "And pray, sir, what did you think of the Greek Slave?" "There, now, stranger, I takes it that where she were raised _cotton was dreadful scarce."_ This, was too much and too good; and I think it is by far the best thing I have heard about the exhibition. How the boys managed to keep quiet, I know not; but they did as well as could be expected. The room was thoroughly awake, and I resigned our countryman to other hands.

After breakfast, we rode to the Cemetery of Pere la Chaise. This spot has for centuries been celebrated for its beauty; and, for a period of more than one hundred years, the Jesuits had a country residence here.

They had it early in the sixteenth century, or, perhaps, at the close of the fifteenth. Louis XIV. made his confessor, Pere la Chaise, the superior of the society; and in 1705 it was the head-quarters of Jesuitism in France.

The present cemetery was consecrated in 1804; and the entire grounds are walled in, and they are very nearly two hundred acres. You know how much I admire Greenwood and Mount Auburn. Well, I still prefer them to this Golgotha. The walks are some of them fine, but the tombs are too thick.

There is no regularity. It looks as though there had been a rain storm of tombs and monuments, and they lie as they fell. This is the very metropolis of death. Some of the monuments are elegant indeed, but often their beauties are hidden. The most attractive spot to us was the resting-place of "the bravest of the brave." Ney yet has no monument.

The tombs of Casimir Perrier, the Countess Demidoff, Abelard and Heloise, General Macdonald, Lavalette, Gobert, Foy, Moliere, Laplace, and Junot are some that pleased us most, and are exquisite specimens of art. Many of these tombs have small rooms, with altars and gla.s.s doors.

Opposite the altar is a chair, and we saw several mourners in devout att.i.tude at the shrine of affection. I have heard from a Parisian of great intelligence, and who has been connected with the city government, that very nearly, if not quite, thirty millions of dollars have been spent upon this cemetery. Of course, the expense of sculpture here has been enormous, as the best talent of Europe has contributed to adorn the spot, and perpetuate the memory of the departed.

On leaving this charnel-house of mortality, we drove to the Abattoir de Popincourt, which is the largest in the city, and occupies six hundred and forty-five feet by fire hundred and seventy. On entering, we found four slaughter-houses, each standing alone. Here, too, are sheds for four thousand sheep, and stables for four hundred oxen. There are also four melting-houses. We also noticed a large building called the _Triperie_, for preparing tripe and the feet of animals. The week we were there the statistics of slaughter were as follows: Eight hundred and seventy-two oxen, three hundred and fifty-six cows, seven hundred calves, and two thousand eight hundred and seventy-five sheep. Nothing of the sort can be kept cleaner than this establishment. The water ran down every channel, and very little blood could be seen, or effluvia noticed. When will New York have its _abattoirs_? No city in the world needs such an auxiliary to health and comfort more than she does.

Perhaps the good people will call for one after a few more visitations of cholera. There are four other similar establishments in Paris.

We had a nice ride home round the boulevards, and, stopping at the consul's office, found a famous budget of letters and papers, and with great pleasure we addressed ourselves to their contents. I am amused to see how various are the demands made upon the time and services of a consul. He needs to have the patience of Job; and if he answers satisfactorily and authoritatively the questions which I have heard propounded, he ought to have in his library the acts of every state legislature in the Union. Marriage, death, removal of deceased relatives from their places of sepulture, rates of interest, value of stocks, condition of railroads, and statistics of all sorts have been topics which I have heard laid before him for advice and opinion. Very few men, however, possess more general knowledge of the United States than our consul--Mr. Goodrich--does; and his kindness will lead him to do all he can to satisfy the querist.

Yours, as ever,

J.O.C.

Letter 30.

PARIS.

DEAR CHARLEY:--

Yesterday we went to the Cirque, in the Champs Elysees. It is a very large building, with sixteen sides, and behind is another s.p.a.cious one for the horses. The intention of the builder was to represent a Moorish hall; and the pillars of iron are, with the panellings of the walls, gilt and frescoed. The roof is very elegant, and the largest chandelier in Paris is in the centre, blazing with I cannot tell you how many gas lights. The circus will accommodate about six or seven thousand people, and when we were there it was very nearly full. We paid two francs each, and had the best seats. The performances were very good, and some quite beyond any thing I had before seen. There was one feat that was really great. They placed planks upon supporters, from the centre of the circus up to the edge of the gallery, making an angle of about fifty feet.

Well, Charley, a fellow walked in with a ball, about three quarters of a yard in diameter, and on this ball he trotted about on the ground for perhaps two minutes; then he marches it to the foot of this plank, still standing on it, and up he goes,--yes, he totes and coaxes the ball under his feet, up, up,--till at last he stands on it on the gallery; and then, did not the place ring again with applause? But then it is not over; for down he comes the selfsame way--and that is the tug of war; but he did it. This he did _backwards_, also, each way. I never saw any thing before that would equal this, and I want to see him do it again before we leave Paris. The horsemanship was very good. But there was one fellow who threw himself into the very oddest att.i.tudes you can fancy.

He looked, as he moved about on the earth, like any thing but a human.

We were all much amused with the audience. Entire families were there.

You could see parties coming in where there was no mistake about grandfather and grandmother, father, mother, and all the children. It seems that all cla.s.ses here have a taste for amus.e.m.e.nt, and pursue it with much earnestness. The audience behaved very well--every thing was quiet. I noticed a great many well-dressed women who carried round crickets to the ladies, for their feet, and for this they got a few sous.

As we returned, we found, in the grounds through which we walked, scores of establishments for juvenile amus.e.m.e.nt--stalls where there are exhibitions of moving figures, and at which you may shoot with bow and arrow by paying a small price. Not far from the Cirque we met with an out-door concert, in a very tasty garden--the performers all occupying a fine orchestra. The audience were seated at tables in the garden, taking ice cream, lemonade, coffee, &c. Now and then one of the singers would pa.s.s round and take up a collection.

This day we went to the Hippodrome, which is a very large enclosure, nearly opposite the Triumphal Arch. This is no less than three hundred and eighty feet in diameter, and will seat all of ten thousand persons, who are under shelter, but the course-ground is open to the heavens.

This place is open from three to five during the warm weather, and is under the same management as the Cirque. Our great object in coming was to see the ball feat again, and also the skirmishes of some twenty Arabs, who are here exhibiting their tactics. I never saw a more reckless, savage-looking set of fellows than they were. Only one looked like a venerable Arab--he did look patriarchal. They had several sham attacks, and rode about shooting helter skelter, looking as if they would enjoy the real thing much better. These fellows are said to be some of the Algerine captives brought over by the French. Our friend Mr.

Hodgson, who lived so long in Turkey, and speaks Arabic, talked with them, much to their surprise.

We have determined to leave Paris this week, and commence our journey through Belgium, Holland, go up the Rhine, and take Switzerland on our return to Paris--and perhaps we may leave to-morrow. I ought not to omit saying that we have had a very pleasant Sunday in our own parlor here.

We did not feel much like going to the French church that morning; and the doctor invited the Rev. Dr. Murray, Dr. Chetwood, Rev. Mr. Darling, Judge Darling, Rev. Mr. Hovey, Mr. King, and some other friends to join us, and have a religious meeting. It was a very interesting one, too.

Dr. Murray spoke about the state of France, the need the French had of our Sunday, and how they could not be a free and happy people, and get along without soldiers, till they had it. All the ministers took part; and I shall not very soon forget that day; and then I think we all thought a good deal about home, as each minister talked and prayed for our families.

Our next letters will, I suppose, be from Brussels.

Yours, &c.,

GEORGE.

Letter 31.

BRUSSELS.

DEAR CHARLEY:--

The fine weather, and the advantage of having pleasant company, has induced us to leave Paris and pursue our journey, leaving many things to see in the great metropolis when we return. I forgot to tell you that in Paris I had the pleasure to meet an English clergyman, a relative of mine, who was there pa.s.sing the honey-moon. This gentleman and his lady joined our party; and we are now to go together as far as Antwerp, certainly. We took the rail from Paris direct to Brussels,--a distance of two hundred and thirty miles,--and pa.s.sed through Amiens, Arras, Douai, Valenciennes, Quievrain, St. Jemappes,--here King Louis Philippe, with General Dumourier, in 1792, gained a battle over an Austrian army, and so gained Belgium to France, little thinking that his son-in-law would be its king,--Mons, Bruin le Compte, Halle, and so to Brussels. At Quievrain we found the custom-house of Belgium, and the little river, called Aunelle, is the boundary of the republic. Mons is a fine-looking place, fortified strongly. The region is one entire coal field, and there are many pits in operation. Ten miles from Mons Marlborough fought the battle of Malplaquet, in 1709. When we pa.s.sed, the town was in great commotion with the trial of Count Bocarme and his wife for the murder of her brother. She was by some means acquitted, but he was convicted and executed by the guillotine.

As soon as we entered Belgium, we were struck with the improvement of the lands. The small towns look remarkably thrifty, and every place seems to speak of manufactures and industry.

At Brussels, we put up at the Hotel Bellevue, in the Place Royale. The situation is good. In a large square, and in front of our hotel, is the magnificent statue, in bronze, of G.o.dfrey, Duke of Boulogne, the cast of which we so admired as the Crusader, in the exhibition. In this square Leopold was inaugurated King of Belgium.

Every traveller enters Brussels with expectation of pleasure. He has heard that it is Paris in miniature; and then Byron has thrown around it his witchery of song. I can see but a dull and dim resemblance to Paris.

Brussels, with its suburbs, which are quite large, has only a population of one hundred and thirty thousand. The town is very clean, looks cosy, and has some very beautiful edifices. But you come here full of fancy about "Belgium's capital," "her beauty and her chivalry," and the "windowed niche of that high hall," and you see at first only a plain, good, comfortable town. However, there is quite enough of romance, after all, in this same place; and when you traverse it thoroughly, you find enough to call out deep interest; and before you leave it you are much gratified, and, in all probability, feel desirous to see it again.

I like to be in places that have a history; and this Brussels has. Let me tell you about this place. It stands on the brow of a high bill, and the upper and lower towns are different affairs entirely. The summit is covered with palaces, public buildings, boulevards, parks, &c, and the lower part is in the valley of the River Senne. Brussels was a city in 709. In 976, the Emperor Otho held his court there; in 1044, it was fortified and had seven gates; in 1405, a fire destroyed fourteen hundred houses; and in 1549, it suffered from two earthquakes. But still it grew and flourished under the dukes of Burgundy, and became famous for tapestry, lace, and fire-arms. In the days of Charles V., the city of Brussels was at its zenith. Philip II., his son, and his infamous general, the Duke of Alva, ravaged this city and vicinage. The people were fanatical, and the rulers cruel. In 1695, the city was besieged, and four thousand houses destroyed by the bombardment. In 1794, Belgium was annexed to France. After the battle of Waterloo, the Prince of Orange was proclaimed sovereign of Belgium. In 1830, the revolution displaced the Orange dynasty, and Belgium broke off from Holland; and in 1831, the people chose Leopold for their king. The first thing I wanted to see was the Hotel de Villa, which, many years ago, pleased me exceedingly; and I think all our party have been delighted with it. This is the n.o.blest civil building in Belgium; it stands in a fine square, and is a glorious specimen of the Lombardy Gothic school. The spire is of open fretwork, and the sun shines through it. It has long been esteemed as one of the most precious works of architecture in Europe.

The extreme height is three hundred and sixty-four feet, and it was erected in 1444. On the spire is a gilt statue of St. Michael, seventeen feet high, which turns with the wind. In front of this town hall Counts Egmont and Horn were executed, under the eye of Alva; but they were n.o.bly avenged by William of Orange. At the head of a very steep and narrow street stands a most imposing structure. It is the Cathedral Church of St. Gudule. The foundation was laid in 1010. The front view is very much like that of Notre Dame, at Paris. This church is occasionally called St. Michael's in old writers, as it had a double consecration to the archangel and Gudule. The interior of this cathedral is very impressive, although the architecture is simple. The pillars supporting the roof are ma.s.sive, and must receive the admiration of all spectators.

There are brackets attached to them, on which stand finely-executed figures of the Savior, the Virgin Mary, and the Apostles, executed by the following renowned sculptors: Vandelyn, Quellyn, Tobias, and Duquesnoy. The pulpit is regarded as the finest in Europe, and is the most elaborate composition of sculpture in wood that is extant. It is the work of the great Verbruggen, and was originally executed for a Jesuit society at Louvain, in 1699. The art is exquisite, and far superior to the taste which is exhibited. The pulpit represents the expulsion of Adam and Eve from paradise by the angel. Death is seen in pursuit of the guilty fugitives; and on the extreme summit is the Virgin Mary, bruising the serpent's head with a cross. On the steps and bal.u.s.ters are various beasts and birds; the owl, ape, and peac.o.c.k are conspicuous. We found preparations for a great church holiday, to be observed the next day; and the Virgin Mary was gayly decked out in embroidery, lace, and jewelry.

A monument to Count Merode, in a chapel, is a most exquisite production, and was executed by Geefs. Here Charles V., in 1616, held a chapter of the Golden Fleece. The restoration of this beautiful church has been carefully attended to lately, and the new windows of painted gla.s.s are very fine; but some of the old windows, by Weyde, are grand indeed.