c approbation. I
was a little surprised to observe, in the windows of the principal print
shops, prints exposed to sale, representing the late king, in his full
robes of state, under which was written, Le Restaurateur de la liberte,
(an equivoque, no doubt) and the parting interview between that unhappy
sovereign and his queen and family in the temple, upon the morning of
his execution.

This little circumstance will show the confidence which the present
rulers feel in the strength and security of the present government; for
such representations are certainly calculated to excite feelings, and to
restore impressions which might prove a little hazardous to both, were
they less powerfully supported.

I was also one morning a little surprised, by hearing from my window,
the exhilarating song of "Rule Britannia" played upon a hand organ; upon
looking down into the street, I beheld a Savoyard very composedly
turning the handle of his musical machine, as he moved along, and a
french officer humming the tune after him. Both were, no doubt, ignorant
of the nationality of the song, though not of the truth of its
sentiment.

In the course of one of my morning walks, I went to the metropolitan
abbey of Notre Dame, which is situated at the end of a large island in
the Seine, which forms a part of Paris, and is filled with long narrow
streets. It is a fine gothic pile, but in my humble opinion, much
inferior to our Westminster abbey, and to the great churches of Rouen.

From this building I visited, with a large party, the celebrated museum,
or palace of the arts, which I afterwards generally frequented every
other day.

This inestimable collection contains one thousand and thirty paintings,
which are considered to be the chefs d'oeuvre of the great ancient
masters, and is a treasury of human art and genius, unknown to the most
renowned of former ages, and far surpassing every other institution of
the same nature, in the present times.

The first apartment is about the size of the exhibition room of
Somerset house, and lighted as that is, from above. It contains several
exquisite paintings, which have been presented to Bonaparte by the
princes, and rulers of those states which have been either subdued by
his arms, or have cultivated his alliance. The parisians call this
apartment Bonaparte's nosegay. The most costly pictures in the room, are
from the gallery of the grand duke of Tuscany. Amongst so many works,
all exquisite