white-washed walls are scored with
names of every nation; and the paper of the ceiling has been torn off
in strips as holy relics. Many couplets, chiefly French, extolling and
lamenting the departed hero, adorn or disfigure (according to their
qualities) the plaster walls. The only lines that I can recall to
mind--few are worth it--are the following, written ever the door, and
signed '---- ----, Officier de la Garde Imperiale.'

"'Du grand Napoleon le nom toujours cite
Ira de bouche en bouche a la posterite!'"

The writer doubtless possessed more spirit as a sabreur than as a
poet.

"The emperor's once well-kept garden,

"'And still where many a garden-flower grows wild,'

"is now overgrown and choked with weeds. At the end of a walk still
exists a small mound, on which it is said the hero of Lodi, Marengo,
and Austerlitz, amused himself by erecting a mock battery. The little
chunamed tank, in which he fed some fresh-water fish, is quite
dried up; and the mud wall, through a hole in which he reconnoitered
passers-by, is, like the great owner, returned to earth!"

Captain Mundy's volumes are illustrated chiefly with sketches of
Indian sports from the master-hand of Land-seer; and for spirit of
execution they deserve to rank among the finest productions of this
distinguished artist.

* * * * *

RECENT FRENCH LITERATURE.

A novel picture of Paris has lately appeared with the taking title
of the _Hundred and One._ Its origin, as well as its subject, is
interesting. It is a voluntary association of almost all the literary
talent of France, for the benefit of an enterprising bookseller,
whose affairs have, it seems, fallen into the sere, since the
commercial embarrassments following on the Revolution. A hundred
and one authors of all ranks and political opinions, philosophers,
academicians, journalists, deputies, poets, artists, have combined
in this work to pass in review before us the humours, follies and
opinions of the French capital, painted in colours gay or grave,
sketchy or elaborate, according to the manner or mood of the artist. A
very amusing work, suitable to all tastes, is the result, and, by
aid of the _Foreign Quarterly Review_, we are enabled to present
the reader with a specimen sketch by Leon Guzlan, an author of some
celebrity in this species of writing.[1]

[Footnote 1: Several specimens have been ably translated in the
Athenaeum.]

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