beneath the oppressive heat of a Parisian atmosphere.  The same misery appeared to beset the bears who are confined, in an open space, below.  They searched every where for shade; while a scorching sun was darting its vertical rays upon their heads.  In the Museum of dead, or stuffed animals, you have every thing that is minute or magnificent in nature, from the creeping lizard to the towering giraffe, arranged systematically, and in a manner the most obvious and intelligible:  while Cuvier’s collection of fossil bones equally surprises and instructs you.  It is worth all the catacombs of all the capitals in the world.  If we turn to the softer and more beauteous parts of creation, we are dazzled and bewildered by the radiance and variety of the tribes of vegetables—­whether as fruits or flowers; and, upon the whole, this is an establishment which, in no age or country, hath been surpassed.

It is not necessary to trouble you with much more of this strain.  The out-of-door enjoyments in Paris are so well known, and have been so frequently described—­and my objects of research being altogether of a very different complexion—­you will not, I conclude, scold me if I cease to expatiate upon this topic, but direct your attention to others.  Not however but that I think you may wish to know my sentiments about the principal ARCHITECTURAL BUILDINGS of Paris—­as you are yourself not only a lover, but a judge, of these matters—­and therefore the better qualified to criticise and correct the following remarks—­which flow “au bout de la plume”—­as Madame de Sevigne says.  In the first place, then, let us stop a few minutes before the THUILERIES.  It hath a beautiful front:  beautiful from its lightness and airiness of effect.  The small central dome is the only raised part in the long horizontal line of this extended building:  not but what the extremities are raised in the old fashioned sloping manner:  but if there had been a similar dome at each end, and that in the centre had been just double its present height, the effect, in my humble opinion, would have harmonised better with the extreme length of the building.  It is very narrow; so much so, that the same room contains windows from which you may look on either side of the palace:  upon the gardens to the west, or within the square to the east.

Adjoining to the Thuileries is the LOUVRE:  that is to say, a long range of building to the south, parallel with the Seine, connects these magnificent residences:  and it is precisely along this extensive range that the celebrated Gallery of the Louvre runs.  The principal exterior front, or southern extremity of the Louvre, faces the Seine; and to my eye it is nearly faultless as a piece of architecture constructed upon Grecian and Roman models.  But the interior is yet more splendid.  I speak more particularly of the south and western fronts:  that facing the north being more ancient, and containing female figure ornaments which are palpably of a disproportionate