dually, while he turned over the
leaves of the prayer-book in his hand, he was led to read aloud the
hundred and thirty-sixth psalm, commenting upon every verse as he
proceeded, and weeping more and more bitterly, when he came to the part
commemorating the ruin of Jerusalem, which he applied, naturally enough,
to the captive state of France, smarting as she then was under the iron
rod of Prussia. Of the other allies, including even the Russians, he
owned that there was no complaint to be made: "they conduct themselves,"
said he, "agreeably to the maxim of warfare, which says 'battez-vous
contre ceux qui vous opposent; mais ayez pitie des vaincus.' Not so the
Prussians: with them it is 'frappez-ca, frappez-la, et quand ils entrent
dans quelque endroit, ils disent, il nous faut ca, il nous faut la, et
ils le prennent d'autorite.' Cruel Babylon!"--"Yet, even admitting all
this," we asked, "how can you reconcile with the spirit of christianity
the permission given to the Jews by the psalmist, to 'take up her little
ones and dash them against the stones.'"--"Ah! you misunderstand the
sense, the psalm does not authorize cruelty;--mais, attendez! ce n'est
pas ainsi: ces pierres la sont Saint Pierre; et heureux celui qui les
attachera a Saint Pierre; qui montrera de l'attachement, de
l'intrepidite pour sa religion."--Then again, looking at the chapel,
with tears and sobs, "how can we expect to prosper, how to escape these
miseries, after having committed such enormities?"--His name, he told
us, was Jacquemet, and my companion kindly made a sketch of his face,
while I noted down his words.

This specimen will give you some idea of the extraordinary influence of
the Roman catholic faith over the mind, and of the curious perversions
under which it does not scruple to take refuge.

Leaving for the present the dusty legends of superstition, I describe
with pleasure my recollections of the glorious prospect over which the
eye ranges from the hill of Saint Catherine.--The Seine, broad, winding,
and full of islands, is the principal feature of the landscape. This
river is distinguished by its sinuosity and the number of islets which
it embraces, and it retains this character even to Paris. Its smooth
tranquillity well contrasts with the life that is imparted to the scene,
by the shipping and the bustle of the quays. The city itself, with its
verdant walks, its spacious manufactories, its strange and picturesque
buildings, and the nume