greatest luxuriance, and presenting a most extraordinary mass of verdure. Amongst all this, the white walls and red-tiled roofs of several neat villages and picturesque villas harmonised charmingly. The foot of the hill towards Paris was washed by the gently-flowing waters of the Seine, on whose placid bosom a few boats occasionally appeared. The lively verdure of a long narrow strip of meadow-land lying on the opposite bank of the river, and the white walls of several large-windowed Italian-like houses bordering on them, contrasted strongly with the sombre tones of the Bois de Boulogne behind them, amongst whose thickets several columns of blue smoke, and a line of white tents seen here and there on the lawns, attested the presence of some part of our army. Along the line of the river were the villages of St Cloud, with its bridge; Suresnes, Puteaux, and Neuilly, from the end of whose bridge a most superb avenue of elms stretched away toward the city. Beyond could clearly be discerned the column of Austerlitz, the dome of the Pantheon, Nôtre Dame, with its high-pointed façade, circular window, and two flanking Gothic towers. A little to our right the elegant dome of the Invalides, its gilded decorations glittering in the last rays of the setting sun; the cream-coloured portico of the Hotel de Bourbon; and the more deep-toned architecture of the Hotel des Monnaies and its dome. Still further to the right the scene was closed by the wooded heights of Bellevue, which appeared continuous with the Park of St Cloud. These, wrapped in deep shadow, formed a mass of sombre verdure, balancing well the other parts of this brilliant picture. In the distance beyond the city were the smiling heights of Belleville, covered with villages and country-houses, gradually descending into the vale of the Seine, of whose waters an occasional glimpse might be caught winding their tortuous way like silver threads through the rich plain. To the left the buildings of the city spread up the steep slopes of Montmartre, the summit of which presented a formidable appearance with its lines of fortifications. Windmills and a telegraph occupied the higher end of its ridge, whilst that next us terminated in a perpendicular precipice, the white face of which overhung the tufted groves of Monceaux and Clichy. Still further to the left extended the plains of St Denis, yellow with the golden harvest, beyond which arose the town and abbey. The horizon on this side was bounded by a low range of blue hills, of pleasing though not very varied outline. The balmy softness of the evening air--the varied noises, softened by distance, arising from the village below--the sounds of music, mirth, and revelry coming up more distinctly,--all contributed to heighten the interest of this charming panorama. Long did we linger on Mont Valerien, until the coming shades of night reminded us that we were strangers to the intricate maze of vineyards, &c., which we must traverse to regain