Except a scowling ex-_militaire_ here and there, nothing could exceed the _bonhommie_ apparent in every countenance. Curiosity--pure curiosity--had drawn them thither, and their staring physiognomies did not betray an idea beyond the gratification of it. What a holiday for the Parisians this is, after all! The city seems in a continued state of festivity, and at the same time of fever. Amidst such a crowd and such excitement it was not possible to indulge reflections; yet, spite of these, a confused jumble of very curious ones flashed across my mind as, _en passant_, I contemplated this host of foreigners, domesticated, as it were, on the _sacred territory_; beyond them, and overtopping their temporary dwellings, the celebrated triumphal arch, surmounted by the four Venetian horses; and beyond these again, the immense façade (dark and gloomy) of the Tuileries, scene of such strange and startling events. Struggling through the crowd, our approach to the Gallery of the Louvre was announced by a host of boys and women, “A bill of the play, sir?” “Please to buy a bill of the play?” which was soon exchanged for “Catalogue du musée, monsieur? un franc, monsieur.” “Voulez-vous un catalogue du musée, monsieur?” &c. &c. These people are more persevering than our vendors of these articles; however, the purchase of one was a mouth-stopper, and we were then suffered to proceed unmolested to the great doors, where two servants, most respectably dressed in blue and silver, with white waistcoat and breeches, received us, and pointed out the way to the first _salon_. A perfect stream, almost all foreigners, was setting in, and the _salons_ were already pretty full, although so early in the day. I cannot set up for a connoisseur either in painting or sculpture, therefore have little to record of this celebrated collection beyond my unfeigned admiration of what I there saw. My emotions in each individual _rencontre_ with the different _chefs-d’œuvre_ here assembled might be a source of amusement to myself at some future period had I faithfully noted them down at the moment, but that was impossible in such a crowd; moreover, I had a companion, the most complete hindrance imaginable in my estimation to the enjoyment of anything admirable either in art or nature. Now they are nearly obliterated, and I can only say that I was delighted, though in some cases disappointed. This was particularly the case with the Venus de Medici. I scarcely know what I expected to see; but when a statue, patched and cracked, the marble discoloured and disfigured with greenish stains, such as one sees in our garden Neptunes, Tritons, &c., was pointed out by the number in our catalogue as the Venus, I could scarcely believe but that it must be a mistake. Such was the effect of the first _coup d’œil_. Upon a more attentive examination, however, I could not but admit the thing to be a most beautiful piece of workmanship as such; and the lady represented a very pretty