I accordingly went through this indispensable ceremony in due form on my arrival here; but, having neglected to read a _nota bene_ in the margin of the _permis de séjour_, I had not been ten hours in my new apartments before I received a visit from an Inspector of Police of the _arrondissement_, who, very civilly reminding me of the omission, told me that I need not give myself the trouble of going to the Central Police-office, as he would report my removal. However, being determined to be strictly _en règle_, I went thither myself to cause my new residence to be inserted in the paper. I should not have dwelt on the circumstance, were it not to shew you the precision observed in the administration of the police of this great city. Under the old _régime_, every master of a ready-furnished hotel was obliged to keep a register, in which he inserted the name and quality of his lodgers for the inspection of the police-officers whenever they came: this regulation is not only strictly adhered to at present; but every person in Paris, who receives a stranger under his roof as an inmate, is bound, under penalty of a fine, to report him to the police, which is most vigilantly administered by Citizen FOUCHÉ. Last night, not being in time to find good places at the _Théâtre des Arts_, or Grand French Opera, I went to the _Théâtre Louvois_, which is within a few paces of it, in hopes of being more successful. I shall not at present attempt to describe the house, as, from my arriving late, I was too ill accommodated to be able to view it to advantage. However, I was well seated for seeing the performance. It consisted of three _petites pièces_: namely, _Une heure d'absence_, _La petite ville_, and _Le café d'une petite ville_. The first was entertaining; but the second much more so; and though the third cannot claim the merit of being well put together, I shall say a few words of it, as it is a production _in honour of peace_, and on that score alone, would, at this juncture, deserve notice. After a few scenes somewhat languid, interspersed with common-place, and speeches of no great humour, a _dénouement_, by no means interesting, promised not to compensate the audience for their patience. But the author of the _Café d'une petite ville_, having eased himself of this burden, revealed his motive, and took them on their weak side, by making a strong appeal to French enthusiasm. This cord being adroitly struck, his warmth became communicative, and animating the actors, good humor did the rest. The accessories were infinitely more interesting than the main subject. An allemande, gracefully danced by two damsels and a hero, in the character of a French hussar, returned home from the fatigues of war and battle, was much applauded; and a Gascoon poet, who declares that, for once in his life, he is resolved to speak truth, was loudly encored in the following couplets, adapted to the well-known air of _"Gai, le coeur à la danse."_