History or experience, sir, makes us acquainted with so few actions that can be compared to yours,--an offer like this from a stranger and a tailor seems to me so astonishing,--that you must pardon me for thus making your virtue public, and acquainting the English nation with your merit and your name. Let me add, sir, that you live on the first floor; that your cloths and fit are excellent, and your charges moderate and just; and, as a humble tribute of my admiration, permit me to lay these volumes at your feet.--Your obliged, faithful servant, M. A. TITMARSH. About half of the sketches in these volumes have already appeared in print, in various periodical works. A part of the text of one tale, and the plots of two others, have been borrowed from French originals; the other stories, which are, in the main, true, have been written upon facts and characters, that came within the Author’s observation during a residence in Paris. * * * * * As the remaining papers relate to public events, which occurred during the same period, or to Parisian Art and Literature, he has ventured to give his publication the title which it bears. LONDON, _July 1, 1840_. [Illustration: EXPLANATION OF THE ALLEGORY Number 1’s an ancient Carlist, Number 8 a Paris Artist, Gloomily there stands between them, Number 2 a Bonapartist; In the middle is King Louis-Philip standing at his ease, Guarded by a loyal Grocer, and a Sergeant of Police; 4’s the people in a passion, 6 a Priest of pious mien, 5 a Gentleman of Fashion, copied from a Magazine. ] THE PARIS SKETCH BOOK AN INVASION OF FRANCE ‘Cæsar venit in Galliam summâ diligentiâ.’ About twelve o’clock, just as the bell of the packet is tolling a farewell to London Bridge, and warning off the blackguard-boys with the newspapers, who have been shoving _Times_, _Herald_, _Penny Paul-Pry_, _Penny Satirist_, _Flare-up_, and other abominations into your face--just as the bell has tolled, and the Jews, strangers, people-taking-leave-of-their-families, and blackguard-boys aforesaid are making a rush for the narrow plank which conducts from the paddle-box of the _Emerald_ steamboat unto the quay--you perceive, staggering down Thames Street, those two hackney-coaches, for the arrival of which you have been praying, trembling, hoping, despairing, swearing--sw----, I beg your pardon, I believe the word is not used in polite company--and transpiring, for the last half-hour. Yes, at last, the two coaches draw near, and from thence an awful number of trunks, children, carpet-bags, nurserymaids, hat-boxes, band-boxes, bonnet-boxes, desks, cloaks, and an affectionate wife, are discharged on the quay.