Fesch, Archbishop of Lyon, in 1805. The walls at the west end are literally covered with "offrandes votives." These, for the most part, consist of pictures and engravings, poorly executed, and in as paltry frames, respectively commemorative of so many "vœux rendus," some in one year, some in another. The designs represent the devotee or devotees on his, her, or their knees, apparently in the act of supplication and prayer to the Virgin Mary, who, with the infant Jesus in her arms, is seated in the clouds. In various parts of the building, waxen models of arms, heads, legs, hearts, bladders, &c. are also suspended, in specific acknowledgment of her miraculous interposition.* I perused several pieces of writing exhibited in this place: their contents generally ran in terms like the following:-" All pious souls are entreated to pray to God that (the person prayed for) may obtain the intercession of the blessed Virgin Mary for"-" the conversion of a heretic"-" the health of a parent, relation, or friend"-" the harmony of a disunited family," &c. &c. This practice of praying to the Almighty Disposer of human events to obtain for some living person the favour of a departed spirit, who is in consequence to intercede with Divine Wisdom itself on behalf of that living person-in other words, this direct appeal to the Great Supreme to influence a being of his own creation, that the inferior creature may intercede with HIM, the Supreme Creator, has something in it so simplified and clear, so rational and intelligible, as at once to shew the opportunities *"The custom of hanging up limbs in wax, as well as pictures, is certainly derived from the old heathens, who used upon their recovery to make an offering in wood, metal, or clay, of the part that had been afflicted with a distemper, to the deity that delivered them." ADDISON. F we shall have of improvement in religious knowledge the further we proceed in the direction of ROME! A book called "the New Testament," teaches nothing like this! It tells us indeed what Saint John saith, that "if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous, and HE is the propitiation for our sins.” But then what is the authority of the Evangelist to be set against that of the Church, which invokes "Our Lady," "the Queen of Heaven, the Mother of God, and the Protectress of France !"* With all due sense of edification, leaving the place, I came to a building, the inscription over whose portal attracted my notice. It was as follows:-" Hinc Pius VII. Pont. Max. Civ. Lugd. Faust. Precatus Est. An. 1813." As I was regarding this record of a Pope's visit to the spot, a clergyman came up, and observing, as he said, that I was a stranger, invited me to enter his garden close by. I thankfully availed myself of his politeness, and from the top of a sort of observatory to which he conducted me, enjoyed one of the greatest treats of the kind: for gay scenes and shining prospects presented themselves in every direction. See that famous letter worthy of the most enlightened age, which in the month of August last, Charles the Tenth addressed to the Archbishop of Paris. The Monarch therein says, "we are desirous of placing our reign under the PROTECTION [not of the King of Kings and Lord of Lords-but] of MARY, the QUEEN of HEAVEN!" (Sous la protection de Marie, La Reine du Ciel ;) “aster the example of our predecessors, who consecrated France for ever [to Almighty God? no,] to the Mother of God, as to her special patroness,” (à la perpètuité à la Mère de Dieu comme à sa patronne speciale). Then the King desires the Archbishop to cause the Declaration of Louis XIII. to the above effect, to be read in all the Churches of France!!! The larger part of Lyon lay like a map at our feet. Those two noble streams, the Rhone and the Soane, distinctly shewed their point of confluence. On our right, looking towards the city, the eye embraced the chain of Montpelier, behind us was that of the Lyonnois; to the left and in front of us below was spread a country of prodigious extent and of superior charms, bounded by an horizon, on whose line, distant indeed, yet rendered perfectly distinct by the help of a telescope, I recognised over the bright fields of Dauphiny, the craggy snow-topped mountains of Savoy. The gentleman to whom I was indebted for this mark of civility, shewed me in a deep trench that had lately been dug in his garden, the remains of Roman walls and arches. He observed that they are constantly finding antique fragments in the gardens and vineyards that cover this eminence.* This reverend ecclesiastic, a tall and portly personage, had in his conversation much of the mingled shrewdness and sociality that belong to men of education and of the world: contrasting his look and manners with those of the generality of the inferior clergy, I could not help thinking that such ridiculous things as had just come within my own view in the neighbouring church, were as likely to excite "a sigh or a smile" in him, as in any individual of sound understanding that I had ever met with at home or abroad. "The mount of Fourvières still encloses within its breast the marks of the great fire which happened during the reign of Nero, and of which Seneca speaks, viz. heaps of charcoal, leaden pipes half melted, other metals that have been in a state of fusion, broken vases, &c.”—Reichard. On my way back to the Hotel de l'Europe, I stopped awhile to listen to the melo-dramatic monologue of a very facetious individual, who had drawn a pretty large concourse of people around him, on the Quay of the Archevêché. This solo performer was dressed in the true costume of the Boulevard Artiste, viz. great coat, dirty white waistcoat, equally dingy nankeen pantaloons, and cocked hat. His "May of life had fallen into the sear, the yellow leaf," but there were still in him that buoyancy of animal spirits, and vivacity of look and manner, which belong to younger days. The undisguised object of his efforts was to sell a few packets of soap, composition for taking out grease-spots, and "such like dulcet diseases," as Touchstone has it. The ways and means to accomplish this end were in his tongue and fiddle, of which he made alternate use with an effect that was truly comic. After opening his budget, and spreading "the lots of various" which it contained, on a small table, he began by expatiating on their virtues. This he did with astonishing volubility, but with little or no success. The crowd looked at his nostrums, and laughed at his jokes, but they did not buy. Not in the least abashed or disconcerted at this event, probably no uncommon one with him, my French Autolycus now took up his violin; waved his hand to the folks to widen their circle; and then dancing to the distance of a few yards from his box, he began to prelude quite in the stile of the orchestra. He opened his dark saying, not on the harp, but on the above mentioned fiddle; and as in his direct recommendation of the articles of his boutique ambulante, he had not brought himself home, his next expedient was to lead the wits of his auditory a wool-gathering abroad. He sang of Paris-not the bandsome wight who figures in "There is in souls a sympathy with sounds, Alas! this preaching and playing were to an assembly of mere stocks and stones. Flints that could not be softened-animals that would not be bled! For my own part I was so well pleased with the man's ingenuity, cheerfulness, and drollery, that it grieved me to see this |