Guillermin, ornaments this chapel; and is one of the most exquisite specimens of carving that ever was executed. Nothing can be more perfect than the anatomy of the figure, and the expression of the Canova pronounced this crucifix to be a chef-d'œuvre. There is a little history attached to the manner in which the hospital became possessed of this master-piece, that increases the interest with which it is beheld.

countenance.

The committee of the hospital have the privilege of once in five years demanding the pardon of a condemned criminal, whose life is granted to their intercession. The nephew of Guillermin was among those sentenced to death, and the uncle applied to the committee, stating that if they would obtain the pardon of his nephew, he would present this crucifix to the hospital. His request was acceded to, the nephew's life was saved; and the graven image redeemed one of that mass for whose redemption the Saviour offered up life.

23d. The more I see of French society, the more do I like its ease and agreeability. We yesterday had a party of our new acquaintances, friends they would style themselves, to dine at our inn; and good Madame Pieron, animated by that amour-propre, peculiar to her compatriots, exerted her and her chef de cuisine's skill, to furnish a good dinner. Nothing could go off better: simply, I believe, because cach individual of the party was disposed to please and be pleased; a determination that offers a wonderful specific for making every social meeting a

pleasant one. What a pity it should not be more generally known! for then, dull soirées, long faces, and yawning mouths, would become more rare; and we should seldom see the looks which seem to say, "Amuse me if you can, I defy your most potent efforts." Ennui appears to be banished from French society; or, at least, I have never yet detected a single symptom of it. Strange that we, who are supposed to possess the largest share of this disease, for it is surely one, should have no name for it, while the French have the name, but not the malady. The weather, that inexhaustible excuse of conversation with us, is seldom referred to; and ill health is not made the excuse of a piteous monologue, more interesting to the speaker than to the listeners. A facility to be amused is among the peculiarities of the French, and a very enviable peculiarity it is, notwithstanding that we in our superior wisdom are prone to consider it as an indication of their frivolity; and pique ourselves that we are not formed of such facile materials. No, forsooth, we must expend large sums, and time, and trouble too, before we can condescend to be amused; nor do we often succeed even then. But we console ourselves by the reflection, that we have minds above such empty pleasures; and this sophistry soothes our pride.

Christmas seems a season of general festivity here. The note of preparation is sounding all around, and one cannot walk a step without seeing turkeys borne triumphantly from house to house. Great has been the slaughter of these birds, and many a gourmand in humble life smacks his lips in anticipation of feasting

on one on Christmas-day. Happy faces are to be met at each turning, congratulations are exchanged, and an extraordinary hilarity prevails. Every street boasts a vender of roasted chesnuts, which send forth their aromatic fumes from an iron pot placed on a rude brazier filled with burning charcoal; and lively groups are clustering round the old women who sell this favourite fruit, to indulge their appetites at the expense of

a sous.

24th.-Christmas eve is solemnized with great pomp and ceremony in all the Catholic chapels in France. I went to see the midnight mass celebrated at the fine church of St. Peter's, which was well lighted, and has a fine organ. The mass was chanted, and the organ pealing forth its mighty voice, had a fine and imposing effect. The women all wore black veils; which, as the majority of them were without bonnets, floating like scarfs from their heads, and leaving the faces, on which the light fell, exposed, added much to the picturesque appearance of the whole coup-d'œil. The effect of sacred music at night, in a church, is solemn and beautiful. It excites a gentle melancholy, that disposes the soul to religious musings; and sends it on the wings of hope to those regions, where the dear and departed have only preceded us. I never could hear sacred music in my life without thinking of the friends I have lost, as if the sound were a mysterious medium of communion between our souls; and at night, it creates in me still more powerfully this sweet, but sad illusion.

Christmas Day.—All Avignon seemed to-day on good cheer intent, and its results may now be distinctly traced in the snatches of song, peals of laughter, and joyous greetings, that are borne to us on the wings of the wind from the adjoining streets. No symptom of ebriety is visible in all this gaiety, which is the work of natural spirits, excited into more than usual exuberance by a good dinner. The French are not addicted to copious libations, and I have not seen an intoxicated man since I left Paris.

Madame Pieron, to do honour to our national customs, concocted a plum pudding, not (grace à Dieu) à-l'anglaise, but as good a specimen of one, à-la-française, as could be tasted. Commend me to a French plum pudding! at once rich and light; how far preferable is it to the palate, and how much less pernicious to the stomach, than the impenetrable lump of condensed and opaque fruit and fat served up on English tables. She, good soul, apologized for its not being toutà-fait à-l'anglaise; but we did such ample justice to it, that she must have been satisfied we liked it. The large logs of wood piled on the ancient gilded dogues on our ample hearth, make one fancy oneself in some old fashioned country house; and the rich silk hangings, and roomy cabriole chairs, and canapés, which originally graced some lofty residence, support the impression. Mad. Pieron is very proud of this rich and tasteful furniture, which would really do honour to one of the last strongholds of l'ancienne noblesse, in the Faubourg St. Germain.

26th.-Went over the Hospital for Invalid Sol

diers to-day; and was highly gratified with the perfect good order, cleanliness, and comfort, that reigned in it throughout. Twelve hundred men are accommodated in this hospital; which is under the command of General de Villume. The married men are permitted to have their wives and children with them. Each soldier has a small garden which he cultivates, the produce of which assists in the maintenance of his family and though no allowance for the women and children is given by the government, they seem in no want of the necessaries, nor, indeed, of the comforts of life. It is said that there are at present not less than twelve hundred children in the hospital; all of whom are well clothed, and healthy in appearance. Les Sœurs de la Charité, those ministering angels, who are only seen when in the performance of their self-imposed duties, instruct the female children of the invalids in reading, writing, arithmetic, and needle-work; and the boys have a school in the hospital. Such of the invalids as are capable of working, find constant employment in public offices and from private individuals; and as the invalids are lodged, clothed, and fed in the hospital, the money they earn goes to the support of their families.

The apartments of the building are spacious and airy; two large gardens, into which they open, give exercise to the inhabitants. The married men are allowed to dine and sup in their rooms, and to share their repasts with their families, which, as their supplies are very liberal, they can well do. Their dinners and suppers are sent to them from the hospital kitchen in large wooden boxes, well closed, laid on hand-bar