As to the memoirs derived from the archives of the Police of Paris, a person disposed to make selections would have two difficulties to encounter; namely, where to commence and where to conclude his extracts. I may mention that there are some which certainly should not be presented for public perusal, and which I would totally abstain from translating; for although I might have no intention of publishing them, I would not leave their details in manuscript. They might vitiate, but could not improve. I could not, in these pages, insert all that I consider amusing or instructive, although perfectly unobjectionable, without extending this publication to an unusual amplitude, and causing the result of my Parisian visit, comparatively to monopolise it. I have translated every incident in the memoirs which I felt confident of being free from impropriety, and perhaps, at a future period, I shall venture to submit them to public consideration. At present I shall content myself by submitting two narratives to my readers, and then, with a few remarks on some of the novels of Alexandre Dumas, and with one or two of my personal recollections, I shall leave Paris for Dublin, until an interval of ten years has elapsed, when my acquaintance with the French capital shall be renewed as satisfactorily, I hope, to my readers as it was to myself. THE FAWN'S ESCAPE. The tale on which I am entering is designated in the memoirs, "The Fawn's Escape," and the applicability of that title will appear when the reader arrives at the Deer Park, (Parc-aux-Cerfs.) The preliminary observations were certainly not written on any previous edition to that of 1838, when the Orleans branch of the Bourbon family was in the ascendency.