xclusively for the English
papers. The love of news is at all times natural; but at a distance from
home the mind is doubly anxious for the details of what is going on
there, and attaches an interest to particulars which, under other
circumstances, it would consider as too trivial to be worthy of
attention. During my stay on the Continent, I felt very forcibly the
truth of Dr. Johnson's observation, "_that it is difficult to conceive
how man can exist without a newspaper_." I was, however, for a
considerable time, _forced_ to be satisfied with the French papers, the
expence of the English being so great, as to cause them to be seldom
taken in abroad; and after my departure from Paris, I saw no English
paper until my arrival at Frankfort, an interval of above two months.

If the pedestrian is exposed to many inconveniences and dangers in the
streets of Paris, yet intricate as they often are, he is seldom in
danger of going far out of his way, if he attends to the manner in which
the names of the streets are coloured, those leading to the river being
lettered in black, and those parallel to, or not leading directly to it,
in red. The quays form the most prominent feature in Paris, and when
arrived there, he can experience little difficulty in finding the road
he desires. The mode of numbering the houses in Paris differs from that
used with us, all the odd numbers being on one aide the street, and the
even numbers on the other.

After having seen the Palais Royal, my attention was next attracted by
the Palace of the Tuilleries (so called from the circumstance of tiles
having been formerly made on the spot where it stands). This is a vast
and magnificent building, extending in front next the gardens 168 toises
(about 1050 feet English measure). The gardens were laid out by _Le
Noitre_, and exhibit a specimen of the taste of that time, abounding in
statues, avenues, and water-works; but it must at the same time be
admitted, that the general effect produced is not devoid of
magnificence, which is heightened by the communication between these
gardens and the Champs Elysees, which forms a vista of great length, and
when illuminated, the _coup d'oeil_ must be really superb. On the side of
the gardens next the river, is a terrace considerably elevated, which
commands a view well deserving the praise which has been bestowed on
it. This was the usual promenade of Buonaparte, who caused a
subterranean communication to be formed bet