sturbed repose, under that splendid roof
which covered the tombs of her earliest kings, and witnessed, from its
first dawn, the infant glory of the English people.--Nor could the
remembrance of the national monuments we have described, ever excite in
the mind of a native of France, the same feeling of heroic devotion
which inspired the sublime expression of Nelson, as he boarded the
Spanish Admiral's ship at St Vincent's--"Westminster Abbey or Victory!"

Though the streets in Paris have an aged and uncomfortable appearance,
the form of the houses is such, as, at a distance, to present a
picturesque aspect. Their height, their sharp and irregular tops, the
vast variety of forms which they assume when seen from different
quarters, all combine to render a distant view of them move striking
than the long rows of uniform houses of which London is composed. The
domes and steeples of Paris, however, are greatly inferior, both in
number and magnificence, to those of the English capital.

The gardens of the Thuilleries and the Luxembourg, of which the
Parisians think so highly, and which are constantly filled with all
ranks of citizens, are laid out with a singularity of taste, of which,
in this country, we can scarcely form any conception. The straight
walks--the clipt trees--the marble fountains--are fast wearing out in
all parts of England; they are to be met with only round the mansions of
ancient families, and even there are kept rather from the influence of
ancient prejudice, or from the affection to hereditary forms, than from
their coincidence with the present taste of the English people. They are
seldom, accordingly, disagreeable, with us, to the eye of the most
cultivated taste; their singularity forms a pleasing variety to the
continued succession of lawns and shrubberies which is every where to be
met with; and they are regarded rather as the venerable marks of
ancient splendour, than as the barbarous affectation of modern
distinction. In France, the native deformity of this taste appears in
its real light, without the colouring of any such adventitious
circumstances as conceal it in this country. It does not appear there
under the softening veil of ancient manners; its avenues do not conduct
to the decaying abode of hereditary greatness--its gardens do not mark
the scenes of former festivity--its fountains are not covered with the
moss which has grown for centuries. It appears as the model of present
taste; it is c