And where, in truth, can anything be found that shall make its air of ceaseless jubilee seem tame?--or its thousand depôts of all that is prettiest in art, lose by comparison with any other pretty things in the wide world? Where do all the externals of happiness meet the eye so readily?--or where can the heavy spirit so easily be roused to seek and find enjoyment? Cold, worn-out, and dead indeed must the heart be that does not awaken to some throb of pleasure when Paris, after long absence, comes again in sight! For though a throne has been overturned, the Tuileries still remain;--though the main stock of a right royal tree has been torn up, and a scion sprung from one of the roots, that had run, wildly enough, to a distance, has been barricaded in, and watered, and nurtured, and fostered into power and strength of growth to supply its place, the Boulevards, with their matchless aspect of eternal holiday, are still the same. No commotion, however violent, has yet been able to cause this light but precious essence of Parisian attractiveness to evaporate; and while the very foundations of society have been shaken round them, the old elms go on, throwing their flickering shadows upon a crowd that--allowing for some vagaries of the milliner and tailor--might be taken for the very same, and no other, which has gladdened the eye and enlivened the imagination since first their green boughs beckoned all that was fairest and gayest in Paris to meet together beneath them. Whilst this is the case, and while sundry other enchantments that may be named in their turn continue to proclaim that Paris is Paris still, it would be silly quarrelling with something better than bread-and-butter, did we spend the time of our abode here in dreaming of what has been, instead of opening our eyes and endeavouring to be as much awake as possible to look upon all that is. Farewell! LETTER II. Absence of the English Embassy.--Trial of the Lyons Prisoners.--Church of the Madeleine.--Statue of Napoleon. It may be doubtful, perhaps, whether the present period[1] be more favourable or unfavourable for the arrival of English travellers at Paris. The sort of interregnum which has taken place in our embassy here deprives us of the centre round which all that is most gay among the English residents usually revolves; but, on the other hand, the approaching trial of the Lyons prisoners and their Parisian accomplices is stirring up from the very bottom all the fermenting passions of the nation. Every principle, however quietly and unobtrusively treasured,--every feeling, however cautiously concealed,--is now afloat; and the most careless observer may expect to see, with little trouble, the genuine temper of the people.