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remains of republicans, royalists, marshals, demogogues, liberals, ultras, and many of the victors and victims of the Revolution, whose exploits and sufferings have filled our gazettes and been familiar in our mouths for the last twenty or thirty years.

A few steps more brought us to the summit of the hill, commanding a noble view of Paris, the innumerable white buildings of which stood out with a panoramic and lucid sharpness in the deep blue of a cloudless sky, not a single wreath of smoke dimming the clearness of the view. Nothing was seen to move -a dead silence reigned around-the whole scene resembled a bright and tranquil painting.


On the highest point of the whole cemetery, under the shade of eight lime-trees planted in a square, is the tomb of Frederic Mestezart, a Protestant pastor of the Church of Geneva. A French writer well observed, on the occasion of this tomb, raised in the midst of the graves of Catholics, and in the former property of one of the most cruel persecutors of Protestantism, "O the power of time, and of the revolutions which it brings in its train! A minister of Calvin reposes not far from that Charenton where the reformed religion saw its temple demolished and its preacher proscribed! He reposes in that ground where a bigoted Jesuit loved to meditate on his plans of intolerance and persecution!" Not far from this spot is the tomb of the well-known authoress Madame Cottin, and monuments have also been lately erected to the memory of Lafontaine and Molière. A low pyramid is the appropriate sepulchre of Volney; and

at the extremity of a walk of trees, surrounded by a little garden, is the equally well adapted monument of Delille, the poet of the Gardens. Mentelle and Fourcroy repose at a little distance; and in the same vicinity, beneath a square tomb of white marble, decorated with a lyre, are deposited the remains of Grétry, the celebrated composer, whose bust I had the day before seen in the garden of the Hermitage at Montmorency, once occupied by Rousseau. How refreshing to turn from the costly and luxurious memorials of many who had been the torments and scourges of their time, to these classic shades, where sleep the benefactors of the world-men who have enlightened it by their wisdom, animated it by their gaiety, or soothed it by their delightful harmonies !

Amid the tombs upon the height is a low enclosure, arched over at top to preserve it from the weather, but fenced at the sides with open wire-work, through which we observed that the whole interior surface was carefully overspread with moss, and strewed with fresh gathered white flowers, which also expanded their fragrance from vases of white porcelain; the whole arranged with exquisite neatness and taste. There was no name or record but the following simple and pathetic inscription :-" Fille chérie !-avec toi mes beaux jours sont passés! 5 Juin, 1819." Some years had elapsed since the erection of this tomb, yet whenever I subsequently visited it, which I sometimes did at an early hour, the wakeful and unwearied solicitude of maternal regret had preceded me; the moss was newly laid, the flowers appeared to be just


plucked, the vases shone with unsullied whiteness, as if even the dew had been carefully wiped off. How keen and intense must have been that affection which could so long survive its object, and gather fresh force even from the energy of despair!

An inscription to the memory of Eleanor Mac Gowan, a Scotchwoman, recalled to mind the touching lines of Pope-"By foreign hands," &c.; but though we might admire the characteristic nationality, we could hardly applaud the taste, which had planted this grave, as well as some others of her countrymen, with thistles. English names often startled us as we walked through the alleys of tomb-stones; and it was gratifying to find that even from these, the coarse and clumsy, though established emblems of the death's head and marrow-bones, had been discarded. Obtuse, indeed, must be those faculties which need such repulsive bone-writing to explain to them the perishableness of humanity!

We nowhere encountered any of the miserable doggrel which defaces our graves in England, under the abused name of poetry; and, in fact, poetic inscriptions of any sort were extremely rare. Some may assign this to the want of poetical genius in the French, but it might be certainly more charitable, and possibly more just, to attribute it to the sincerity of their regrets; for I doubt whether the lacerated bosom, in the first burst of its grief, has ever any disposition to dally with the Muses. A softened heart may seek solace in such effusions, but not an agonized one. Some rhyming epitaphs were, however,

visible. Under the name of the well-known Regnault de St. Jean d'Angely these lines were inscribed: "François, de son dernier soupir

Il a salué la patrie;

Un même jour a vu finir

Ses maux, son exil, et sa vie."

And a very handsome monument to the memory of an artist, named Ravrio, in bronze and gold, informs us that he was the author also of numerous fugitive pieces, to prevent his following which into oblivion, his bust, well executed in bronze, surmounts his tomb; and the following verses give us a little insight into his character:

"Un fils d'Anacréon a fini sa carrière,

Il est dans ce tombeau pour jamais endormi ;
Les enfans des beaux arts sont privés de leur frère,
Les malheureux ont perdu leur ami."

The practice of affixing busts to tombs seems worthy of more general adoption:-it identifies and individualizes the deceased, and thus creates a more definable object for our sympathies. Perhaps the miniatures which we occasionally saw let into the tomb-stones and glazed over attained this point more effectually, as the contrast between the bright eye and blooming cheek above, and the fleshless skeleton below, was rendered doubly impressive. Not only is the doggrel of the English churchyard banished from Père La Chaise, but it is undegraded by the bad spelling and ungrammatical construction which, with us, are so apt to awaken ludicrous ideas where none but solemn impressions should be felt. The order by which all the lapidary inscriptions must

be submitted to previous inspection, though savouring somewhat of arbitrary regulation, is perhaps necessary in the present excited state of political feeling, and is doubtless the main cause of the general propriety and decorum by which they are distinguished. The whole management of the place appears to be admirably conducted:-decency and good order universally prevailed; not a flower was gathered-not a monument defaced-not a stone scribbled over. It was impossible to avoid drawing painful comparisons between the state of the plainest tombs here, and the most elaborate in Westminster Abbey, defaced and desecrated as many of the latter are by the empty-headed puppies of the adjoining school, and the brutal violations of an uncivilized rabble. This sacred respect for the works of art is not peculiar to the cemetery of Père La Chaise, nor solely due to the vigilance of the police; for in the innumerable statues and sculptures with which Paris and its neighbourhood abound, many scattered about in solitary walks and gardens at the mercy of the public, I have never observed the smallest mutilation, nor any indecorous scribbling. The lowest Frenchman has been familiarized with works of art until he has learnt to take a pride in them, and to this extent at least has verified the old adage, that such a feeling "emollit mores nec sinit esse feros."

As I stood upon a hill, I saw a funeral procession slowly winding amid the trees and avenues below. Its distant effect was impressive, but, as it approached, it appeared to be strikingly deficient in that wellappointed and consistent solemnity by which the same ceremony is uniformly distinguished in England.

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