irection of Orleans, marked by the usual
lines of clipped and branchless trees. More to the west commence the
abrupt heights, which, washed by the river, enclose nearly half the wide
plain, like an amphitheatre. This has been the favourite region of the
kings of France, from the time of Louis XIII. down to the present day.
The palaces of Versailles, St. Germain, St. Cloud, and Meudon, all lie
in this direction, within short distances of the capital; and the royal
forests, avenues, and chases intersect it in every direction, as
mentioned before.

Farther north, the hills rise to be low mountains, though a wide and
perfectly level plain spreads itself between the town and their bases,
varying in breadth from two to four leagues. On the whole of this
expanse of cultivated fields, there was hardly such a thing as an
isolated house. Though not literally true, this fact was so nearly so as
to render the effect oddly peculiar, when one stood on the eastern
extremity of Montmartre, where, by turning southward, he looked down
upon the affluence and heard the din of a vast capital, and by turning
northward, he beheld a country with all the appliances of rural life,
and dotted by grey villages. Two places, however, were in sight, in this
direction, that might aspire to be termed towns. One was St. Denis, from
time immemorial the burying-place of the French kings; and the other was
Montmorency, the _bourg_ which gives its name to, or receives it from,
the illustrious family that is so styled; for I am unable to say which
is the fact. The church spire of the former is one of the most beautiful
objects in view from Montmartre, the church itself, which was desecrated
in the revolution, having been restored by Napoleon. St. Denis is
celebrated, in the Catholic annals, by the fact of the martyr, from whom
the name is derived, having walked after decapitation, with his head
under his arm, all the way from Paris to this very spot.

Montmorency is a town of no great size or importance, but lying on the
side of a respectable mountain, in a way to give the spectator more than
a profile, it appears to be larger than it actually is. This place is
scarcely distinguishable from Paris, under the ordinary light; but on a
day like that which we had chosen, it stood out in fine relief from the
surrounding fields, even the grey mass of its church being plainly
visible. If Paris is so beautiful and striking when seen from the
surrounding heights, the