The French are of a very mixed origin. The Græco Latin race corresponding to the French who inhabit the north of the Loire, and the country immediately south of that river; the Romans south of the French, and the Italians who occupy Corsica, include over thirty of the thirty-five millions of Frenchmen. Its remaining people are a Germanic race who inhabit Alsace and part of Lorraine; the Flemings, who live in the north; the Bretons in Brittany, and the Basques in the low Pyrenees. These various races, to the present day, in a great measure preserve the national peculiarities of their several ancestors. Of all these, so low is general education in France, that not one-tenth are acquainted with even the letters of the alphabet.

The history of France dates from a very early period. It was the scene of many exploits in the time of the Romans, by whom it was invaded and subdued. The French are the descendants of these and the ancient Gauls and their language, a mixture of modified Latin, and the tongue of the original inhabitants, but much altered in spelling and pronunciation. France for many centuries was governed in a despotic manner by a line of sovereigns from that of Clovis, in the year 481, to that of the Bourbons in the person of Louis XVI, in 1789. One of these monarchs, Louis XIV, in the latter part of the 17th century exhausted the resources of the nation in foreign wars, and personal extravagance, and beside greatly corrupted the manners of the people. This laid the foundation for a course of events which terminated in the national ruin, and the fearful outbreak of the revolution in 1789, which deluged the country in blood, and ended with the establishment of a Republic; but this was speedily succeeded by the elevation of Napoleon Bonaparte, first as consul and next Emperor. The battle of Waterloo in 1815, closed his career, and the Bourbons were again restored to the throne. Charles the Xth, the last of the Bourbons, was expelled by the revolution of 1830, and Louis Philippe, a descendant of the brother of Louis XIV, was elevated to the throne. France now became and so remained a constitutional monarchy until the 22d February 1848, when royalty was abolished and a republic again established, which after four years' duration merged into a monarchy.

On the morning of May 17th, 1842, J. P. Durbin, D. D.* the traveler whose steps we now follow, first beheld a city of France. He was at the time on board the noble ship the Ville de Lyon, in which, twenty-two days before, he had left New York. The fog having rolled away from the surface of the beautiful bay before them, disclosed, at the distance of five miles, Havre, at the mouth of the Seine, the port of Paris, and the Liverpool of France.

On going out to see the town, soon after his landing, he was struck with the superiority of the people in physical appearance, as compared with his own countrymen. Fine health and much enjoyment of life was shown in their

Abridged principally from "Durbin's Observations in Europe." This work comprises his travels in France, Switzerland, down the Rhine, in Holland, Belgium and England, Scotland and Ireland.

fresh complexions, elastic steps, and full developed figures. This in a great measure arises from the French being accustomed to spend so much of their time in the open air. The greater part of the citizens were cheerfully promenading the streets, and the little folks, of both sexes, full of glee, were running, romping, rolling the hoop and jumping the rope. Most of the females were without bonnets. He was also impressed by the smallness of the shops, the exceeding variety and richness of the merchandise, and, by the fact, that, with a solitary exception, they were kept by females. In France, nearly all the petty trading is carried on by the women, and many occupations of a light, feminine character, in which, with us, males officiate, there properly fall within their province.

In the evening, a mild and beautiful night, which terminated the first day of our traveler's experience in the land of the French, he bent his footsteps toward the quay. The whole population seemed to be in the streets. Everywhere policemen, in their peculiar garb, mingled among the people, to preserve, if necessary, by force, that quiet our own citizens secure simply by their superior civilization and love of order.

Early the third morning after his landing, Dr. Durbin embarked on board of a steamer, which, gliding out of the harbor, was soon on its way up the Seine to Rouen, the ancient capital of Normandy.

The Seine is a beautiful river, full of historical interest : its banks were the battle-grounds of France and England, and with every elevation are connected legends of that, or of an earlier period, when it was scourged by the piratical swarms of Scandinavia, or of an antiquity yet more remote, when France was under the sway of the Roman eagle. Clear down to the water's edge the grass was of a rich velvet green. Frequently, as they advanced, beautiful valleys opened to view on either side, disclosing here and there lovely villages, with the environing hills, cultivated to the highest degree, their summits, in places, crowned with forest trees, in the cool refreshing verdure of spring.

In five hours, Dr. Durbin was comfortably located in the hotel of Rouen. In the French hotels, in the large provincial towns, the traveler pays only for his room and the services of the fille de chambre. His meals he can take as he chooses, at any time, and either as he may desire, at the general table, where he pays a stipulated sum, or at an eating-house, where he pays only for what he may order.

Rouen comprises two parts, the old and the new town. They are separated by the Boulevards, which is a noble wide street, adorned with trees, and almost surrounding the city. The word "boulevards" signifies ancient walls. Many of the old towns of continental Europe are adorned by these enchanting avenues; so that the old walls, once their defense, now form shaded streets, and the pleasure grounds of their inhabitants. The old part of Rouen is miserably built, with narrow streets, winding about like cow-paths; moreover, they are destitute of side-walks, and paved with square stones, which, sloping to the center, there form a gutter. This, however, is not peculiar to this city, but general in all cities on the continent; paved walks for foot passengers, on the sides of the streets, next to the houses, being almost

entirely unknown. To an American eye the houses of Rouen look queer enough, with their stout oaken frames, cemented or bricked between; their narrow fronts, and lofty peaked roofs, tiled or slated. None are in blocks, and rarely two alike. In the new town are many fine modern houses, of soft cream-colored stone, which often are surrounded by trees and gardens.

Dr. Durbin was unexpectedly gratified with the people, their manners and characteristics. They appeared to be sober and discreet, and without that frivolity we Americans have been taught to consider a peculiarity of the French. Among the antiquities of the town the Cathedral is celebrated. This magnificent structure is nearly four hundred and fifty feet long, by over one hundred in width, and the pyramid upon its center tower, in the design, reaches the enormous height of four hundred and thirty-six feet. On entering this gigantic edifice he was struck with awe by its solemn grandeur and its vast proportions. Its long rows of lofty pillars, its innumerable sharp Gothic arches, the silence that reigned in the vast spaces, while a mass of light of every hue, thrown upon all objects through more than a hundred stained glass windows, impressed him with novel and overpowering sensations.

The stained glass windows are not only glass colored in brilliant hues, but the colors are so arranged, that each window illustrates a particular subject. The pictures in two windows depict the life of Joseph. The history of John the Baptist is shown in a third, while a fourth exhibits the passion of Christ, and so on. The paintings, bass-reliefs and statues of the cathedral form, as it were, an open volume of religious history, which, appealing to the mind through the eye, familiarizes to the most ignorant peasant the great events narrated in the Bible.

"No wonder that the people of Catholic countries are so much attached to their religion, when we consider how enticing to the feelings are its splendid ceremonies, and its magnificent churches, rendered sacred by the recollections of a thousand years. The reverence of the Catholic for his church edifice is far more profound than that of the Protestant. The rich paintings, sculptures, and adornments, not only impress as works of art, but as parts of the temple of God, are imbued with an ideal sanctity.

There appears to be more depth and seriousness in the worshipers than with Protestants. Unaccustomed as we are to the solemn pomp and pageantry of the Catholic service in Europe, it is impossible to conceive of its power over the imagination, and the feelings of those educated in the midst of these magical associations. Even the enlightened Protestant will find much that is elevating and majestic, in many of the ceremonies, aided as they are, by the mighty influence of the higher arts, appealing to the eye by the forms of beauty, and the ear with tones of richest harmony, that rivet attention, and take captive the imagination."

Our traveler left Rouen for Paris in the steamer Dorade, the same which conveyed the remains of Napoleon up the Seine, when brought from St. Helena to Paris. On the place on the deck where had stood the sarcophagus, or coffin, was a black marble slab, with an inscription, which stated, in French, "Here reposed the mortal remains of the Emperor Napoleon, from the 9th. to the 15th December, 1840."

All looked upon this with emotion: the deck passengers especially evinced deep feeling, and, in violation of the rules, rushed forward to gaze upon the spot, where, for six days, had rested the mortal remains of the great man whose memory is so idolized by the nation.

The Dorade, a fair specimen of the French river steamers, was an ill-looking boat, compared to ours of the same class: it was long and narrow, with the deck completely exposed to the weather, and its only cabin a small, cramped, shabbily-furnished room below. On the river side, numerous large batteaux were seen, drawn by horses on the land, and at each village, the washerwoman's ark, a diminutive raft of wood, with a bench by the water side, upon which the clothes are rubbed after a soaking in the stream. Numerous interesting villages and ruins, came in view, and on nearing the capital, towns and cities were passed in rapid succession.

At La Pecq they changed to the cars, and soon after dark were in Paris. Taking carriages for a hotel, the party of our traveler entered the famous Boulevards, a broad avenue dazzling with lights, and crowded by thousands of the Parisians, walking, talking, lounging about the splendid shop-windows, and seated before the cafés, partaking of refreshments.

They secured rooms, and as is usual in Paris, obtained their meals at the eating-houses, or cafés. These establishments are peculiar to Paris. On first entering, one sees a well-dressed, and frequently, beautiful woman, seated behind a high and marble-topped desk, upon an elegant velvet-covered ottoman. With the grace and business-like air of the French woman, she -oversees all the operations of the café, receives strangers, orders the servants, and manages the finances. Selecting a table, a bill of fare is passed, from which one can choose at desire.

These establishments are all-important to the every-day life of the citizens of Paris. They are divided into five or six different grades, from the splendid cafés and restaurants, the resort of the higher classes, to the miserable eating-houses, patronized by the artisans; there is, moreover, a regular system, by which the leavings of the best, are handed over to the next, and so on in rotation, until the last remuants are served up at the cheapest houses, after passing through various changes, and losing all traces of their original character.

Many of the first families, in professional and mercantile life, live at these establishments. Their daily business being finished, they dine, and then recreate until bed-time, by promenading and frequenting places of public amusement. By this mode of life, an unusual share of time for out-door amusement is given to the Parisian; but it is at the expense of the pleasures of home, a word, by the way, of which he is even ignorant of the meaning. Although eminently social, he is not domestic, as the dwellings show. In Paris, houses for single families are very rare.

The wealthier classes frequently reside in hotels, and live as described. The common dwellings are usually large, and contain several families; a single family often occupying all one story, in each of which is a complete suite of rooms. In front, and in the center of each house, is a wide archway, closed by a door of iron, which leads into a square court; from this area,

stairs conduct to several suites of rooms, each complete for one family, which having no communication with the others, by entries or passages, secure privacy to the household. The same plan, with slight modifications, is followed in the smaller dwellings of the humbler classes. The American city houses. are like those of the middle class of Englishmen.

On walking out, on his first Sunday in Paris, Dr. Durbin could not realize the day, so different was the aspect of things from what he had been accustomed to. The troops were out, marching to the sound of martial music, masons and carpenters were at work, laborers were paving the streets, and numerous shops were open, with the women in them, waiting upon customers, or sewing. In the evening, he strolled down to the spacious Place de la Concorde, and mingled "in the vast crowds which rolled in vast tides through the Place, westward, into the Champs Elysées, (or Elysian Fields) and followed the avenue toward the Triumphal Arch." From the Place the scene was splendid. Scattered about, were groups of statuary; high rose the magnificent obelisk of Luxor, and beautiful fountains were playing. To the east, lay the gardens of the Tuilleries, and, in the opposite direction, stretched the forests of the Elysian Fields. All around, flashed brilliant gas-lights, from palaces and theaters, and lanterns shone from a thousand moving carriages. Passing into the beautiful Elysian Fields, tents, booths, and tables, everywhere abounded, loaded with tempting eatables for sale, together with innumerable kinds of fancy articles, the business being mainly conducted by females. Crowds of contented, and well-behaved people, were all around, walking, talking, and laughing, and full of enjoyment.

In the whole of this long walk, he saw a quiet and an order unknown in any of our towns, on public days. The people of Paris, so far as regards intruding upon the comforts and privileges of others, behave, in their Sunday amusements as considerately as ours, on their way to church.

The people, generally, are contented with theatrical amusements, music, fine shows, and in visiting public gardens. The government judiciously ministers to the national taste-hence, all the galleries of paintings, sculpture, etc., and the palaces with their splendid grounds, are free to all classes, especially on the Sabbath.

Our traveler, a few weeks later, had an opportunity of observing how the Sabbath was observed in a Protestant city. This was at Geneva, "the cradle of Calvinism." On the Sabbath morning succeeding his arrival, he was awakened by martial music; on going to his window he saw the firecompanies marching out, to exercise their "machines" on the square, the vicinity of which was thronged by market-women. By nine o'clock, market was over, the streets quiet, and the people neatly dressed, on their way to church. In the afternoon, after church service, the inhabitants were seeking amusement in the public gardens, and usual places of pleasure. A little business in the morning, then worship, and finally, amusement, is the manner in which the Sabbath is spent in continental Europe, alike with Catholics and Protestants.

Among the earliest objects in Paris which arrested the notice of Dr. Dur bin, was the column of Napoleon, in the Place de Vendome, which is crowned