village, whether the travellers be French or English, and whether they pay well or ill-altogether make up so grotesque a figure, that, though often described, I could not deny myself the pleasure of sketching its outline. With all these disadvantages, however, the road is in your favour, being generally straight and level-kept in excellent repair-soft on either side, with pavement in the centre-and usually lined with trees, sometimes in double rows.

About four miles from Rouen, looking back from the summit of a hill, is seen one of the finest views in France. In the foreground is the Seine, winding * through a luxuriant valley, and studded with a va

riety of little islands crowned with the richest woods. Rouen, with its towers and spires, appears in the distance, and all around an almost boundless extent of country rich in cornfields and exquisite in beauty. Indeed, nothing can exceed the height to which cultivation is carried every where in Normandy. The land does not appear to be, as it is with us, in the hands of mighty Lords and wealthy Commoners, nor let outin immense farms of many hundred acresbut rather occupied by humble cultivators of the soil, who have no more than enough to maintain their families, and must, therefore, make the most of what they have. Hence arises one circumstance which, in some parts, certainly injures the picturesque appearance of the country. The land is cultivated in little formal patches, and straight lines; here a

stripe of clover, and there a stripe of wheat, and then of potatoes, and so on--this is by no means pleasing to the eye, and gives the sides of the distant hills the appearance of a tailor's pattern book unfolded. But the industry and prudence it indicates sufficiently atone, to the lover of mankind, for the loss that is sustained by the lover of the picturesque.

About forty miles from Rouen we first saw vineyards, and I must confess I was greatly disappointed in them. One of our hop gardens, when the hop is in blossom, is a far more beautiful object. They were in their infancy it is true-the plants were young-and they will attain a greater height and luxuriance. But they never suffer them to grow many feet from the ground, but bend them over from stick to stick, at the height of about three feet from the surface. At present they have a curious appearance up the sides of the hills, for as yet little more than the sticks are seen, so that they look more like fields of broomsticks stinted in their growth than vineyards. But we shall probably see more of them, and my opinion may be altered by a better acquaintance.

We passed two Chateaux, near each other, on opposite sides of the road-one of them the residence of Marshal Suchet, the other of Marshal Victor. They were neither of them distinguished by elegance or grandeur, and would pass for nothing more than

good country houses in England. We also passed Rigney, formerly the seat of the great Duke of Sully, and now the country residence of Talleyrand. We dined at Nantes, a town of some importance upon the Seine, with a magnificent church.

At Saint Germain en Laye we stopped to take a view of the Palace. It is a gloomy structure, built of a dark-coloured brick, and has more the appearance of a prison than a palace. It was the retreat of the fugitive James II. of England; and here, worn with vexation and grief, he expired.It was originally designed by its founder, Francis I. as a hunting seat for the kings of France, when they enjoyed the diversion of the chase in the adjoining forest of Laye. It has been much neglected of late, however, and has greatly suffered from the Prussian soldiers, by whom it was occupied as barracks during the late war. From the terrace is a very extensive prospect, and Paris is distinctly seen in the distance. The city of St. Germain is chiefly built of stone-the streets are wide-the houses, generally, are on a grand scale, and there is an air of magnificence about the whole. The approach to it by a spacious avenue through the forest is extremely fine. In this forest Napoleon took great delight, and there he used frequently to hunt.

About half way between St. Germain and Paris, we passed, on the right, Malmaison, the favourite

country retreat of Buonaparte. The gardens seemed to be very rich and extensive, but the appearance of the house was mean.

The entrance into Paris, by this route, is truly magnificent, and excites in the breast of a stranger the highest expectations of the metropolis he is about to visit. An immense avenue of trees, upwards of two miles in length, and down a gentle declivity, conducts you to the triumphal arch erected by Napoleon, but not yet completed. Round it the road forms a circle, and passing through the Barriere de Neuilly, formed by two temples, in the finest style of architecture, enters the Champs Elisees.-There the eye, wearied with the monotony of a level country and a dusty road, is relieved by the richness of the foliage-the depth of the shade, and the variegated groups, and numerous equipages, that move in the animated scenes around-till in the Place Louis Quinze, where it terminates, all the magnificence of Paris seems to burst in a moment on the enraptured sight. Immediately before you is the great gate of the gardens of the Thuileries, with the grand avenue leading to the chateauto the left is the Palace of Louis the Fifteenth, a majestic pile, of the Corinthian order on the right, over the Seine, which is there crossed by a handsome bridge, (Pont Louis XV.) the Palais de Bourbon, a most chaste and classical structure, now the Hall of the Chamber of Deputies—and beyond,

the gilded dome of the Hotel des Invalides-all these buildings are in the highest style of magnificence-and it seems as if architecture had done her utmost in emulating the grandeur of former times to adorn this favoured spot.-The square, from the centre of which these objects are beheld, is immense, and you may judge what must have been their effect, when contemplated for the first time, and glowing amid the splendour of the setting sun. The grandeur of the buildings—the elegance and number of the equipages—the variegated groups of people—the richness of the woods and gardensthe softness of the air-the serenity of the sky-and above all, the thoughts and reflections that crowded on my mind, on entering this most interesting city, absolutely overwhelmed me, and I was glad to find repose in the refreshment and retirement of a comfortable hotel. Your's, &c.