LETTERS FROM A CONTINENTAL TOURIST. 259 



for preventing their passage through hedgerows and trespassing on 

 forbidden ground. At Caen I found a French town utterly uncor- 

 rupted by English travellers, very few of whom pass through this 

 part of France. Many p of the houses are [exceedingly old and 

 picturesque, with beams of carved wood on the outside, two of which 

 opposite to the hotel where I dined appeared to be the subject of 

 one of Prout's drawings. There was much reason to regret not 

 having time to visit the cathedral, or that of Coutances. Both are 

 said to be fine, with beautiful stained glass-windows. From Caen to 

 Paris, another two-and-twenty hours journey, gives one a sufficient 

 taste of the pleasures of land travelling, but to those who could spare 

 the time to traverse it more leisurely this road offers much that is in- 

 viting. Part of this road lies on the banks of the Seine, passing by 

 the chateau de Rosney, the birth-place of Sully, lately belonging to 

 the duchess of Berri. Among the inconveniences of inside places in 

 the diligence not the least annoying is an unpleasant companion. My 

 opposite neighbour was an old French woman, who, to judge by her 

 appearance, might have been the mother of Methusaleh ; but I can 

 conceive that in these days she cannot have been much past a hun- 

 dred. Now her appearance alone was so disgusting that it was abso- 

 lutely painful to look upon her; and, to render her presence still more 

 annoying, she had a huge pannier of eatables and drinkables, which 

 occupied the place where my legs ought to have been, which legs in 

 consequence were squeezed into another place, much against their 

 will. For what purpose such a decrepit old creature could travel I 

 cannot conceive J^but surely she must have had pressing affairs to in- 

 duce her to undertake a journey from St. Malo to Paris at her 

 time of life. But the road shortens. We arrive at St. Germains, 

 at Nanterre, and at length pass the barriere de Neuilly, et "me 

 voila " encore une fois d, Paris. Before I leave the French capital 

 I shall give you some account of the changes which have taken place 

 since we visited it together in 1825. 



LETTER III. 



Paris, August 17. 



HHVING now paid a hurried visit to many of the chief places of 

 Paris, I proceed to redeem my promise at the close of the last letter. 

 The first step I took on my arrival was to visit an old acquaintance, 

 in order to learn what there was to be seen new since our visit some 

 years ago. Having obtained the requisite information, I repaired to 

 the Madeleine, now at length completed. A church founded by the 

 unfortunate Louis XVI. in the reign of terror converted into a 

 temple where the mad republicans might worship their goddess 

 Liberty (alas ! that so fair a name should ever have been desecrated 

 by the horrors of that period) by Napoleon destined for a temple 

 of glory, wherein should be inscribed the names of all his heroes 

 during the restoration left untouched, and now at length completed 

 and about to be opened for the worship of God, in a nation the vast 

 majority of whom openly profess infidelity. Indeed its appearance 

 is that of a heathen temple, not of a Christian church. There can be 

 no question as to its beauty ; originality it does not claim. The form 



