his spur the satin covering
of one of the sofas and that he did it wilfully; but I never can believe
that the old man would be so silly, and I rather think that this story is
an invention of the keeper of the Palace, or that if it was done, it was
done by an accident merely. But the fact is that Blucher has a contempt for
and hates the Parisians and likes to mortify them on all occasions; he
threatens to do a number of things which he never seriously intends, merely
for the sake of teasing them; and it must be owned that they deserve a
little contempt from the want of _caractere_ they showed on the entrance of
the Allies. Be it as it may, Blucher is the _bete noire_ of the Parisians
and they are as much afraid of him as the children are of _Monsieur
Croque-mitaine_.

We returned from St Cloud by the Quai, crossed the bridge of Jena,
galloped along the _Champs de Mars_, took a hasty glance at the _Hotel des
Invalides_, a magnificent edifice and which may be distinguished from all
other buildings by its gilded cupola. It is a superb establishment in every
respect, and is furnished with an excellent library. A great many old
soldiers are to be seen in this library occupied in reading; they are very
polite to all visitors, particularly to ladies. Nothing can better
demonstrate the superior character, intelligence and deportment of the
French soldiers over those of all other countries than the way in which
they employ their time in literary pursuits, their dignified politeness to
visitors and the intelligent answers they give to questions. I am afraid
our British veterans, brave as they are in the field, occupy themselves,
when laid up as invalids, more in destroying their bodies by spirituous
liquors than in improving their minds by reading. The Chapel of this
establishment where were displayed the banners and trophies taken at
different epochs from the enemies of France, and which were much mutilated
by the wars since the Revolution, is now stripped of all the ensigns of
glory. They were all burned by the French themselves previous to the
capitulation of Paris in 1814, in order to prevent their falling into the
hands of the enemy. An old soldier who was my guide related this with tears
in his eyes, but suddenly checking himself said: "_Mais telle est
l'histoire_."

The only things now in this Chapel that interest the eye of the traveller
are the monuments of Vauban and Turenne. Of the rest nought remains but the
brillian