Nimrod's French Tour.
(Continued from page 72.)

THIS having been my first visit to Paris, it may be expected that I should convey some idea of the impression my mind received from a few days' residence in that celebrated capital, divested, as I trust it will ever be, of that absurd nationality which depreciates everything because it is not English, and which Englishmen are so much given to indulge in. The merits and demerits of Paris are sufficiently known to the world; I shall then only recapitulate a few striking features which presented themselves to my view, and those such as were likely to attract the notice of a person who, like myself, merely looks at towns and countries with a reference to the conveniences and pleasures which they afford. The fine arts and their accompaniments I leave to those who understand them, amongst whom I reckon not myself.

I have reason to believe I entered Paris by one of its very worst approaches that from Senlis, on the Valenciennes road; worse if possible than one or two of the vile ones by which London is defiled. In fact, I could scarcely believe that the cabriolet driver was speaking truth, when he told me that one league more would bring us au barriere, for I looked in vain for something in character with the approach to a great city. "Where are the villas of the citizens ?" said I to myself, the neatness of which is so ornamental to most of the roads round and about London. Not one could I see, no, not even in the distance. Then those wretched faubourgs that we passed through before we reached the barriere, which, by the mean appearance of the houses, must be the abode of the very lowest portion of the community! Still this is classical. In the best days of ancient Rome, the suburbs were the residence of such persons, the greatest and best part of the town having been allotted to temples, porticos, theatres, baths, and walks; and if our "Irish rookery," as it is called, in St. Giles, was on the outside, instead of in the very heart of London, many a midnight broil would be prevented, and great store of hard blows saved. Arrived at the barriere, I "got my second horse," as they say in Leicestershire, and right glad was I to do so, for I had long been going in distress. In other words, I exchanged the Senlis cabriolet for one from the public stand, and half

*This expression suggests itself from the recollection of what once occurred to me in London. When Mr. Maxse, of Leicestershire celebrity, was building the Miranda yacht, he asked me to accompany him to the dock to inspect the culinary arrangement, and we started in a hackney chariot. "What now?" said I, to him, as he pulled the check string in Cheapside, and asked Jarvey how much his fare "A second horse here," replied he, "I never go beyond two miles in the same hackney coach." I considered this a wrinkle.

was.

Now in this short ride..

an hour or less, brought me to Lawson's hotel. I saw something that surprised me-I travelled more than half the distance with one wheel of the carriage in a dirty gutter! By heavens, thought I, no Marcus Agrippa has been here. The cloaca maxima no doubt there is, but where are the cloaca minores to prevent the necessity of these filthy channels through the public streets?

In passing through the streets I was struck with the paucity of public clocks, as well as the silence of church bells, but the number of persons walking through them I thought greater than in London, magnified perhaps, to my view, by the general want of flagged footpaths-or pavements, as those of London are improperly called-although they are in progress in many parts of the town. The shops appeared to me much to resemble those of London, although more tastefully laid out, ad captandum. Having an eye to whatever is connected with agriculture, I always look at the butchers' shops; and here I was reminded of what Dr. Johnson had said of the butchers of Paris-that their meat would not be considered good enough for an English jail. Times, however, are altered since the period of the Doctor's visit to the French metropolis; and I must say I would not wish to see better fed meat than I found amongst the principal butchers of Paris. The mutton, indeed, appeared super-excellent, being of small size, but fat withal, and butchered in a very superior manner. At a shop in the Palais Royal, I saw the finest display of game that I have ever yet seen, nothing being wanting from the antlered stag to the cowering quail.

As may be imagined, I looked into a horse dealer's stables-those of Mr. Drake, one of the principal in his line, and formerly groom to Lord Henry Seymour. He had but a poor show compared with an Anderson or an Elmore of our own capital; but he astonished me in the account he gave of the prices at which horses sold at Paris. For example, he informed me that a lady had purchased of him a pair of carriage horses for seven hundred pounds! I also looked into the shop of one of the principal saddlers-an Englishman also, of the name of Hobbs-where I saw very good articles for sale both in saddlery and harness, and one that I never saw before, and hope I may never see again. It was a bit to ride a horse with, which, by rather a curious construction and operation, requires no headstall. I saw one of them in use in the streets, and highly offensive to my eye did the horse's naked head appear; independently of the idea it conveys, of the horse having nothing to do but to open his mouth wide and let the bit drop out. This apprehension, however, I believe is groundless, at least I was assured that such cannot be the case; still I see no good end to be answered by the headstall being dispensed with. I think I have more than once observed, in the course of my letters, that next to high condition, nothing sets off the appear

ance of a riding-horse more than a good saddle and bridle, which in my horse-selling days I always took care to avail myself of. I saw some splendid harness belonging to Lord Pembroke, made in Paris; and that of his royal highness the Duke of Orleans-the state harness in particular, and of course of Paris manufacture-could not be excelled any where.

The carriages in the streets of Paris, and especially those of the French nobility, appeared greatly inferior to those of the same class of persons in London. Neither the horses nor the harness, and indeed I may add, nor the servants, being anything like so clean and well appointed. It must be admitted, however, that the English commit excesses in these matters, and I met with a well applied rebuke from a French gentleman on this subject. Seeing a fashionably dressed female accompanying her husband in a very shabby cabriolet, I observed to him, that a butcher's wife in a country town in England, would feel ashamed at being seen in such a vehicle, still less would so lady-like a person as the one we were looking at feel satisfied with it, as this lady apparently did. True," observed he, "your English ladies know nothing between the coach and the wheelbarrow, but that is not the case in France." As to the hackney coaches and cabs in Paris, they are much on a par as to cleanliness with those of our own great city-dirty enough; but the omnibusses are very inferior indeed as regards their horses, which appear scarcely able to crawl.

I looked into the shop of Moore, the gunmaker, son of Mr. Charles Moore of St. James's-street, London, who appears to be doing a good stroke of business in Paris; for, independently of game shooting, the prevalent fashion of pigeon shooting is pursued, with much spirit, at the Tivoli gardens in Paris, kept by Mons. Bryon, Editor of the French Racing Calendar. Thirty, and thirty-five yard matches, as they are called, are common with Mr. Moore's widely bored English guns.

Generally speaking, I am a very poor seer of sights, but without going out of the way for the purpose, some noble ones present themselves to a stranger in Paris. The Louvre was shut,-so that is reserved for another opportunity; but I could not fail being struck with the stupendous palace of the Tuileries, together with its beatifully laid out garden in front. Still the building that most pleased me was, the Magdalen, which unites the simplicity of the Grecian with the elegance of modern architecture, and owing to the absence of coal smoke in Paris, looks as clean and as bright as if it had dropped only yesterday, ready made, from the clouds. Independent of its magnificent exterior, there is a pleasing association with the object of this splendid edifice, which adds greatly to its value in the eyes of any man who has a soul: It is the refuge of fallen woman! Place Vendome, the "Grosvenor-square" of Paris, dis