le in varietie and diversitie of
commodities; the glory of France and one of the noblest and chiefe
ornaments of the world. God of his mercy free hir and chase away all
our divisions from hir. So long as she shall continue, so long shall I
never want a home or a retreat to retire and shrowd myselfe at all
times."

--MONTAIGNE.

"Quand Dieu eslut nonante et dix royaumes
Tot le meillor torna en douce France."

COURONNEMENT LOYS.

PREFACE

In recasting _Paris and its Story_ for issue in the "Mediaeval Towns
Series," opportunity has been taken of revising the whole and of
adding a Second Part, wherein we have essayed the office of cicerone.

Obviously in so vast a range of study as that afforded by the city of
Paris, compression and selection have been imperative: we have
therefore limited our guidance to such routes and edifices as seemed
to offer the more important objects of historic and artistic interest,
excluding from our purview, with much regret, the works of
contemporary artists. On the Louvre, as the richest Thesaurus of
beautiful things in Europe, we have dwelt at some length and even so
it has been possible only to deal broadly with its contents. A book
has, however, this advantage over a corporeal guide; it can be curtly
dismissed without fear of offence, when antipathy may impel the
traveller to pass by, or sympathy invite him to linger over, the
various objects indicated to his gaze. In a city where change is so
constant and the housebreaker's pick so active, any work dealing with
monuments of the past must needs soon become imperfect. Since the
publication of _Paris and its Story_ in the autumn of 1904, a
picturesque group of old houses in the Rue de l'Arbre Sec, including
the Hotel des Mousquetaires, the traditional lodging of Dumas'
d'Artagnan, has been swept away and a monstrous mass of engineering is
now reared on its site: even as we write other demolitions of historic
buildings are in progress. Care has, however, been taken to bring this
little work up to date and our constant desire has been to render it
useful to the inexperienced visitor to Paris. Success in so
complicated and difficult a task can be but partial, and in this as in
so many of life's aims "our wills," as good Sir Thomas Browne says,
"must be our performances, and our intents make out our actions;
otherwise our pious labours shall find anxiety in our graves and our
best endeavours not hope, but fear, a resu