the true military
spirit than the thoughtless infidelity of the French, he has carried in
his bosom through all the chances of war.

CHAPTER III.

PARIS--ITS PUBLIC BUILDINGS.

With whatever sentiments a stranger might enter Paris at the time we
did, his feelings must have been the same with regard to the monuments
of ancient magnificence, or of modern taste, which it contained. All
that the vanity or patriotism of a long series of Sovereigns could
effect for the embellishment of the capital in which they resided; all
that the conquests of an ambitious and unprincipled Army could
accumulate from the spoils of the nations whom they had subdued, were
there presented to the eye of the stranger with a profusion which
obliterated every former prejudice, and stifled the feelings of
national emulation in exultation at the greatness of human genius.

The ordinary buildings of Paris, as every traveller has observed, and as
all the world knows, are in general mean and uncomfortable. The height
and gloomy aspect of the houses; the narrowness of the streets, and the
want of pavement for foot passengers, convey an idea of antiquity, which
ill accords with what the imagination had anticipated of the modern
capital of the French empire. This circumstance renders the admiration
of the spectator greater when he first comes in sight of its _public
edifices_; when he is conducted to the Place Louis Quinze, or the Pont
Neuf, from whence he has a general view of the principal buildings of
this celebrated capital. With the single exception of the view of London
from the terrace of the Adelphi, there is no point in our own country
where the effect of architectural design is so great as in the
situations which have now been mentioned. The view from the former of
these combines many of the most striking objects which Paris has to
present. To the east, the long front of the Thuilleries rises over the
dark mass of foliage which covers its gardens; to the south, the
picturesque aspect of the town is broken by the varied objects which the
river presents, and the fine perspective of the Bridge of Peace,
terminating in the noble front of the palace of the Legislative Body; to
the west, the long avenues of the Elysian Fields are closed by the
pillars of a triumphal arch which Napoleon had commenced; while to the
north, the beautiful facade of the Palace itself, leaves the spectator
only room to discover at a greater distance the foundation