pitate in copying the inventions of other countries. It may take twenty years yet before M.Adam's plan will be adopted;" and there seems the same caution with respect to the use of gas.

To-day, at the Chamber of Deputies, an animated debate expected on the restrictions of the press. I was fortunate enough to establish myself at the side of a French gentleman, who had been in England long enough to be able to speak our language tolerably, and he helped me to the names, and occasionally something of the character, or other particulars of the speakers. I got to my seat about a quarter before one, but it was a quarter past two before the president was fairly up in his. The deputies assembled slowly, and the ministers were not in their places for half an hour after the business of the day opened.

The first member pointed out to me was, I think, Mons. Bonnet, the deputy appointed by commission to modify and amend the bill (or projet) before the house,—a powdered, comely, old, smart, busy-looking gentleman, with a

brick-coloured face. The only thing remarkable that I saw about him was, his alacrity in mounting the tribune, which he did with equal frequency and tripping agility. The next was the celebrated Benjamin Constant, who is accounted the first jurist in France. He is a little lame, and appeared to be near sighted. This gentleman was followed by Mons. le Garde de Sceaux, Mons. Peyronnet, the author of the projet, who entered the chamber in a black gown, with an air of that sort of satisfaction which bespeaks an assured victory. De Fraissinous, the Archbishop of Hermopolis, and Grand Master of the University of Paris, made his entré next, attired in ecclesiastic costume, with cowl and crucifix, and a feathery display of thinnish white hair, luxuriating over his episcopal temples. He appeared above seventy, and is reputed, and justly I believe, a man of great talent and unbounded learning. The next was General Sebastiani, a general of poor Napoleon's, a portly, tall, good-looking man, and distinguished, as every body knows, not less in the field of Venus than Mars. Villele,

the premier, and the last of the sage assembly pointed out to me, I should think not more than fifty years old. He was originally the manager of a sugar estate in the Island of Bourbon. I never saw so many bald men together in my life. My Anglo-French friend, who had anticipated me in this remark, said, that his countrymen lose their hair much sooner than the English; which he assigned, moreover, as a rationale for their not growing so soon grey: but what getting bald has to do with preventing people growing grey, unless by depriving them of all hair to grow grey withal, is above my physiology to comprehend. The true account of the matter is, that no man can be a deputy under forty; and the majority are, of course, much above it.

With all the attention I could give to the orator, I was able to catch but very little distinctly of the speech. My chief consolation was, to find that even my French acquaintance comprehended nearly as little. There is by far too much echo in the chamber. No one but Paddy Blake himself could have any chance

of interpreting her ambiguous accents, and too little regard to silence is paid by the worthy deputies themselves. Hardly a moment of decent quiet, and the hum of men often rises so high as utterly to confound the auditory faculty of the most patient listener. Garganum mugire putes nemus, aut mare Tuscum. Yet strangers are not allowed to make the smallest stir; and that they may not have an excuse for pleading ignorantia legum, the first thing staring you in the face on the staircase going into the gallery, is a notice to learn in silence, with all submission, and to sit uncovered, with a penalty of being turned out if you should happen to be led to any demonstration of approbation or disapprobation during the course of the discussions.

Of the merits of the speech I have said I could form no clear opinion. But there was an affectation of vehemence which sounded to my ears as any thing but Demosthenic. The cadence was extremely monotonous, and seemed to me might have been acquired at the schools of music and declamation, which one sees so

often advertised, and where, without knowing the fact, but only judging from the designation of such schools, I should conclude a man learns to pitch his tone, as some of the ancient rhetoricians did, to some instrument, and flourish his Philippic in recitative. The president, whose stentorophonic voice rolls in volumes through the whole chamber, (and he is certainly not sparing of its use) hurries over a quantity of matter without the variation of a single semitone, until he comes to the close of his period, when all at once he practises a most unharmonious elevation, which baffles all musical notation, as much as description to convey the least idea of. Sawing the air with both hands, he accompanied the movement with a species of emphatic nutation, which, unlike Jove's, I found did not mean assent, but very much the contrary, if one might judge from the manner of the next speaker. In fact, there is in the delivery of each declaimer so much of the same sort of sound and gesticulation, that having heard any given deputy, you may have a fair notion of the manner of any other. The vehe