ris was the COLUMN OF NAPOLEON
in the Place Vendome, as I rattled by it in the gray dawn of the morning
of my arrival. This gigantic Column, as is well known, was formed of
cannon taken by the Great Captain in the several victories which
irradiated his earlier career, and was constructed while he was Emperor
of France and virtually of the Continent. His Statue crowns the pyramid;
it was pulled down while the Allied Armies occupied Paris, and a resolute
attempt was made to prostrate the Column also, but it was too firmly
rooted. The Statue was not replaced till after the Revolution of 1830.
The Place Vendome is small, surrounded by high houses, and the stately
Column seems dwarfed by them. But for its historic interest, and
especially that of the material employed in its construction, I should
not regard it very highly.

Far better placed, as well as more majestic and every way interesting,
is the OBELISK OF LUXOR, which for thousands of years had overshadowed
the banks of the Nile until presented to France by the late Pacha of
Egypt, and transported thence to the Place de la Concorde, near the
Garden of the Tuileries. I have seen nothing in Europe which impressed
me like this magnificent shaft, covered as it is with mysterious
inscriptions which have braved the winds and rains of four thousand
years, yet seem as fresh and clear as though chiseled but yesterday. The
removal entire of this bulk of many thousand tuns from Egypt to Paris is
one of the most marvelous achievements of human genius, and Paris has for
me no single attraction to match the Obelisk of Luxor.

The TUILERIES strikes me as an irregular mass of buildings with little
pretensions to Architectural beauty or effect. It has great capacity, and
nothing more. The LOUVRE is much finer, yet still not remarkable, but its
wealth of Paintings by the Great Masters of all time surprised as well as
delighted me. I never saw anything at all comparable to it. But of this
another time.

THE FRENCH OPERA.

PARIS, Monday, June 9, 1851.

Having the evening on my hands, I have spent a good share of it at the
Opera, of which France is proud, and to the support of which her
Government directly and liberally contributes. It is not only a National
institution, but a National trait, and as such I visited it.

The house is very spacious, admirably planned, superbly fitted up, and
every way adapted to its purpose; the charges moderate; the audience
large and well d