nificence and grandeur, with its vast galleries of statuary and paintings, but the grandest and most beautiful of parks and gardens surround it,—and here fountains playing on Sundays attract multitudes of visitors from the great city near by.

4. "The French people, from the highest to the lowest," remarked the Professor, "are exceedingly foud of ornamenting everything."

"And that same fondness for ornament," remarked Dr. Edson, "springs from their love of the beautiful, and cultivation of that love; and this is everywhere exhibited in the highly artistic forms and harmonious coloring given to French art,--a national trait of no small value, for it has placed French manufactures in advance of those of every other nation."

5. "This is the very subject," said he, turning to Henry and politely bowing to him, "that Mr. Allen and I have just been discussing, and I am very certain that, if our people do not pay more attention to the cultivation of artistic taste in the schools, the higher class of our manufactures will never be able to compete with French workmanship in the markets of the world. Although we are making some advances in decorative art, yet most of the patterns of our carpets and oil-cloths, and wall-paper, and glass-ware, and jewelry, are either wholly French or German, or are made up from various foreign designs. And who will buy an ugly carpet, if for the same price he can have a beautiful one?"

6. "But in our reapers and mowers, and a multitude of other articles of paramount utility, we are in advance of all other nations," said the Professor.

"And they are the very articles of which we send the fewest to foreign markets," replied the Doctor. "In many of the plain and cheap wares, and also in American watches, we are fast acquiring a high reputation abroad, and there is no reason why our advance should not be as rapid in

the higher arts of design." This closed the discussion on French art; but it gave some of our party a new insight into the character of the investigations which the Doctor and Henry are pursuing.

7. One day several of our party went with Dr. Edson and Prof. Howard to see the tomb of the Great Napoleon, which is in the Church of St. Louis, right under the dome. This church forms a part of the vast Hotel of the Invalids, which is a grand asylum and home for veteran soldiers, who are maintained there at the public expense.

8. You know that Napoleon's bones were brought here, from his island tomb in St. Helena, in the year 1840. The great coffin in which they now rest is cut out of a beautiful kind of purplish marble, called por'phy-ry, and is carved into the most beautiful forms.

9. Prof. Howard told us a great deal about that grand but solemn event,-" Napoleon's Return," as the French call it; how the remains, brought in a vessel commanded by a French prince, were received at Paris,-and how the "whole French nation" assembled to deposit, in their last resting-place, the bones of France's greatest soldier and greatest monarch.

10. Prof. Howard also read to us some accounts of the ceremonies at the grand military display on that occasion; and, among other things, he read some poctry, from which I have copied the following:

Napoleon's Return.

1. A bark has left the sea-girt isle,

A prince is at the helm;

She bears the exiled emperor

Back to his ancient realm.

No joyous shout bursts from her crew,
As o'er the waves they dance,
But silently, through foam and spray,
They seek the shores of France.

2. A soldier comes! Haste, comrades, haste!
To greet him on the strand:

'Tis long, since by his side ye fought

For Glory's chosen land.

A leader comes! let loud huzzas

Burst from the extended line,

And glancing arms and helmets raised
In martial splendor shine.

3. A monarch comes! From royal arms
Remove the envious rust;

A monarch comes! the triple crown
Is freed from gathering dust.
Guard him not to the halls of state;
His diadem is riven;

But bear him where yon hallowed spire
Is pointing up to heaven;

And with the requiem's plaintive swell,
With dirge and solemn prayer,

Enter the marble halls of death,

And throne your monarch there!

4. Then raise the imperial monument,
Fame's tribute to the brave;
The warrior's place of pilgrimage
Shall be Napoleon's grave.
France, envying long his silent tomb

Amid the lonely deep,

Has gained at last the treasured dust:

Sleep! mighty mortal, sleep!

Miss Wallace.

5. After the reading of this, Dr. Edson referred to the

Verse 4.-What is called "the warrior's place of pilgrimage," and why is it so called?-What is the word "France" here used to signify? On what resemblance is based the figure, "treasured dust"?

death of the Duke of Wellington, the great conqueror of Napoleon on the field of Waterloo in the year 1815. "It was twelve years after Napoleon's body was brought back to Paris," said he, "that Wellington died,—and the whole English nation mourned him as the greatest of generals, greatest of statesmen, and 'clearest of ambitious crime;' and the greatest English poet of his time wrote, to his memory, an ode of nearly three hundred lines, which our Emerson styled 'a more magnificent monument than any or all the histories that record the life of the great commander.'" Then the Doctor quoted the following lines from this noble ode:

Ode on the Death of the Duke of Wellington.

1. Bury the Great Duke

With an empire's lamentation!

Let us bury the Great Duke

To the noise of the mourning of a mighty nation,

Mourning their leader's fall;

Warriors carry the warrior's pall,

And sorrow darkens hamlet and hall.

2. Where shall we lay the man whom we deplore?
Here, in streaming London's central roar.

Let the sound of those he wrought for,
And the feet of those he fought for,
Echo round his bones for evermore.

3. Lead out the pageant: sad and slow,
As fits an universal woe,

Let the long, long procession go,

And let the sorrowing crowd about it grow,
And let the mournful martial music blow:
The last great Englishman is low!

4. Mourn, for to us he seems the last,

Remembering all his greatness in the past.
No more in soldier-fashion will he greet
With lifted hand the gazer in the street.
O friends, our chief state-oracle is mute!
Mourn for the man of long-enduring blood,
The statesman-warrior, moderate, resolute,
Whole in himself, a common good.

5. Mourn for the man of amplest influence,
Yet clearest of ambitious crime,
Our greatest, yet with least pretence,-
Great in council and great in war,
Foremost captain of his time,

Rich in saving common sense,
And, as the greatest only are,
In his simplicity sublime.

6. He is gone who seemed so great-
Gone; but nothing can bereave him
Of the force he made his own

Being here, and we believe him.
Something far advanced in state,
And that he wears a truer crown

Than any wreath that man can weave him.
But speak no more of his renown;

Lay your earthly fancies down,

And in the vast cathedral leave him

God accept him, Christ receive him.

III.-Onward to Gibraltar.

Alfred Tennyson.

1. We sailed from Havre, early on the 15th of November, for Gibraltar. After we had left the English Channel, for two days we were out of sight of land, as we were just outside of that broad extent of sea called the