Who that has heard the "_Miserere_" in the Sistine chapel at Rome, and seen, while listening to it, "The Last Judgment," by Michael Angelo, on its walls, without feeling the powerful influence they exercised on the feelings? CHAPTER V. PARIS. _June_, 1828.--A fatiguing journey, over dusty roads, and in intensely hot weather, has brought us to Paris, with no accident save the failure of one of the wheels of our large landau--a circumstance that caused the last day's travelling to be any thing but agreeable; for though our courier declared the temporary repair it received rendered it perfectly safe, I was by no means satisfied on the point. We have taken up our abode in the Hôtel de la Terrasse, Rue de Rivoli, are well-lodged, but somewhat incommoded by the loud reverberation of the pavement, as the various vehicles roll rapidly over it. We were told that "it would be nothing when we got used to it"--an assertion, the truth of which, I trust, we shall not remain sufficiently long to test; for I have a peculiar objection to noise of every kind, and a long residence in Italy has not conquered it. So here we are, once more, at Paris, after six years' absence from it; and I find all that has hitherto met my eyes in it _in statu quo_. How many places have I seen during that period; how many associations formed; how many and what various impressions received; and here is every thing around looking so precisely as I left them, that I can hardly bring myself to believe that I have indeed been so many years absent! When we bring back with us the objects most dear, and find those we left unchanged, we are tempted to doubt the lapse of time; but one link in the chain of affection broken, and every thing seems altered. On entering Paris, I felt my impatience to see our dear friends there redouble; and, before we had despatched the dinner awaiting our arrival, the Duc and Duchesse de Guiche, came to us. How warm was our greeting; how many questions to be asked and answered; how many congratulations and pleasant plans for the future to be formed; how many reminiscences of our mutual _séjour_ in dear Italy to be talked over! The Duchesse was radiant in health and beauty, and the Duc looking, as he always does, more _distingué_, than any one else--the perfect _beau idéal_ of a nobleman. We soon quitted the _salle à manger_; for who could eat during the joy of a first meeting with those so valued?--Not I, certainly; and all the rest of our party were as little disposed to do honour to the repast commanded for us. It was a happy evening. Seated in the _salon_, and looking out on the pleasant gardens of the Tuileries, the perfume of whose orange-trees was wafted to us by the air as we talked over old times, and indulged in cheerful anticipations of new ones, and the tones of voices familiar to the ears thus again restored, were heard with emotion.