d the respect of their
antagonists in arms.

Beyond the town of Fontainbleau, there rises a ridge of steep hills,
which prevents any view in that direction into the distant parts of the
forest. The road to their summit lies through the Imperial Gardens, and
is surrounded by the artificial forms and regular walks which mark the
character of the French gardening. When you reach the summit, however,
the character of the scene instantly changes, and you pass at once into
the utmost wildness of desolated nature. The foreground is broken by
barren rock, or covered with the beautiful forms of the weeping birch;
immediately below there lies a lonely valley, strewed with masses of
grey stone, without the slightest trace of human habitation, while, in
the farthest distance, the forest is discerned, clothing the sides of
those broken ridges which rise in endless confusion on the surface of
the horizon. At the moment when we reached this spot, the sun was
setting in the west; the cold grey of the stone which covered the
ravines was dimly discerned through the obscure light which the approach
of night produced, while the rugged outline of the rocks beyond was
projected in the deepest shadow on the bright light of the departing
day.

There is no scenery round Paris so striking as the forest of
Fontainbleau, but the heights of Belleville exhibit nature in a more
pleasing aspect, and are distinguished by features of a gentler
character. Montmartre, and the ridge of Belleville, form those
celebrated heights which command Paris on the northern side, and which
were so obstinately contested between the allies and the French on the
30th March 1814, previous to the capture of Paris by the allied
Sovereigns. Montmartre is covered for the most part with houses, and
presents nothing to attract the eye of the observer, except the
extensive view which is to be met with at its summit. The heights of
Belleville, however, are varied with wood, with orchards, vineyards, and
gardens, interspersed with cottages and villas, and cultivated with the
utmost care. There are few inclosures, but the whole extent of the
ground is thickly studded with walnuts, fruit-trees, and forest timber,
which, from a distance, give it the appearance of one continued wood. On
a nearer approach, however, you find it intersected in every direction
by small paths, which wind among the vineyards, or through the woods
with which the hills are covered, and present at every turn