I found, from my guide, that there was no Protestant French Church at Boulogne. I asked if he had read the Bible, but he replied, that the common people did not mind such things; it was for the priests to do so. I endeavoured to speak with him seriously on the subject; but Napoleon seemed to be his idol, and the encampment of the grand army his heaven, or notion of perfect happiness. He stated, however, that here the priests did not dare to molest the people reading the Scriptures. In the course of the day I touched upon subjects of this nature, and found that his idea of death was a perfect equality; but whether by annihilation or not, I did not discover. When the time came to part, I spoke more at large, and said, that, as we should never probably meet in this world again, I would earnestly recommend him to commence the study of the word of God, and gave him something towards purchasing a copy: the man seemed struck and somewhat moved, and thanked me, solemnly, in the name of himself and children. This was so far agreeable; but whether any good would result from it, it is impossible

to say.

In the evening, I might have repaired to the Salle du Spectacle, or Theatre; but have a scruple upon this subject, which some would call a prejudice. The mere act of dramatic representation may be good, bad, or at least inexpedient, according to its subject and concomi

tants. To represent vice in pleasing colours, and to set off a spurious morality, is one of the most treacherous conspiracies that ever helped to cut off virtue from a land; and that this is the ordinary gist of our plays is undoubted. The accompaniments of British playacting are truly dreadful; it is an attendance on a diversion, in common with those of both sexes, who are avowedly abandoned to the brutal uttermost of moral pollution. I have sometimes had an Utopian idea, that the Theatre could not only be purged, but made the pregnant source of much advantage to mankind. Suppose a conversion scene deeply depicted, awfully developed, making impressions on the audience similar to the religious awakenings at Cambuslang and other places;-at the midnight hour, the horrible distress of an alarmed conscience, lighted up and represented with scenic strength; the audience lost in reverential fear; the fatal symptoms increase, agony becomes despair, and the subject insupportable: perhaps this might not be an unfavourable moment for the still small voice of the gospel to speak forth in terms of deep and boundless affection; making its way to hearts already appalled, and, it may be, melted by the dreadful apparition of an offended law of God. Thus have I dreamt. Nevertheless, it is true, that the French Theatre is not particularly an incipient resort for criminal courses, but partakes more of the nature of a rational amusement.

H*

It

is clearly expedient, however, to give up some gratifications in the way of self-denial, while a dubiety exists regarding them therefore, although dramatic representation, as it at present stands, may be the perfection of rational amusement, I don't judge it hard to resist its allurements.

I walked out between eight and nine in the evening. The French are said to be a nation who live out of doors; the climate invites to this, and the airless state of the lower stories in the houses in Paris at least, drives to it. There were many promenaders on the quays, and many more sitting out in the streets enjoying the genial air, which has now quite a summer feeling. The interior aspect of the dwellings of the lower orders being much disclosed, from the width of the doors and windows, I could descry many varieties of the roturier class-father and mother, with their families, seated round a table, some at books, some conversing, or engaged in writing. Education among them is much more universal than in England; indeed, it seems to be on an equality with North Britain. My late guide had read a good part of English and French history. In reply to some remarks of mine on the French Revolution, he quoted parallel cases from the reign of Charles the First, and Cromwell's usurpation.

But the deep knowledge of the Scotch peasantry in theology and its relative subjects, which, besides

other advantages, has a strong tendency to mature and strengthen the mind, is awanting in France. The inside of the meanest house here is very picturesque. I saw no filth or mal-arrangement; the rooms are peculiarly large, lofty, and airy; there is a good deal of neatness and brightness; clean curtains and bed-covers. of deep and striking colours; chests of drawers and bookcases, scarcely inferior to mirrors in lustre, and an air of antiquity about the whole.

I now found out what had been the source of an undiscoverable sensation of pleasure, which I had secretly enjoyed in looking around me since coming to France: whereas, Scotch antiquity in buildings and manners is altogether French, having been derived from that country under old alliances; I was now surrounded with many objects, whose air and appearance were not new, but were, in some sort, the beau ideal my mind had formed of ancient Scots modes. All our old-fashioned gentility in manor places, pleasure grounds, and gardens, seems to have been received by our ancestors from their ancient French friends,-fashions which are now romantic and venerable. One great charm of the tales of Waverley and Guy Mannering, has to me always been the foreign, but antique manner of the things and transactions. The Pier of Leith, with its alien-looking crews of strange vessels, presents a more interesting scene than the more naval and bustling ports of the west.

Tuesday, 29th April. Having taken my place in the diligence, I this day proceeded towards Paris. The distance is about 179 miles; we travelled all night, and arrived at Paris next day about noon. The route lay through Abbeville, Beauvais, and Saint Denis. I could only procure a seat in the Rotonde, the back part of the diligence, and the most disagreeable. And now, on recurring to my notes, I found a chasm in the time between Boulogne and Paris; for I had detailed my journey in a letter to a friend at home: and as this part of my travels is filled with first impressions, the reader will perhaps accept of its perusal.

My dear

Tuesday, 2d May, 1828.

I wrote you from Birmingham, London, and Boulogne, all which I hope you received. Here am I, at last, with every thing French all around, every word uttered, tone of voice, turn of the sound, all new and foreign; if by chance, in the midst of the quick and gentle vociferation of these lively people, you think you hear an English word, you are mistaken; it is some French vocable, that means quite a different thing. But to proceed methodically, (I was going to say a la,