M. Tayau, who, in several comic chansonettes , suited to

his words an extraordinary play of features. A little boy who saw his wry feces and puckered lips, remarked that he must have been eating persimmons. His accom- plished little daughter, as violinist — the recipient of the first prize at the Conservatoire Imperial — was indeed a prodigy, and in her budding fame might stand beside the great Ole Bull and Vieuxtcmps. At the close of the concert some beautiful floral offerings conveyed good
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wishes for the debutant. May America, at no distant day, richly crown him as her pride !
Wending our way homeward, we struck the stream of revelers who were cutting the most absurd antics, one of which was the thrusting of an abominable, long, artificial nose into our very faces. It was not difficult to fancy, from a glance at their horned heads, that they were akin to the diable , or, if not, that they had clothed themselves under the eye of his satanic majesty. The only escape opened to us was Hill’s English Restaurant, with its inviting treat of truffles, champagne, and tiny oysters. On the door of the room into which we w r ere ushered, we read the name of our beloved Washington, to whose memory, joint homage was paid by the party, consisting of representatives of England, Ireland and America. The other saloons were honored by names of some of the most distinguished French poets. The night wore a carnival-splendor in bright stars and cloudless sky. More than once, on the Champs Elysees, we glanced up at the moon to see if there was mischief in it to account for these "quips and cranks, and wanton wiles ; nods and becks and wreathed smiles,” but every beam was chaste; her fair, full face looking down upon us serenely bright. With the concierge's sleepy response ; the sound of a tiny clock that struck 2 A. M. ; apd the heavy closing of porte-cochere, gay, audacious Paris was shut out. I plead for slumber with an easy conscience, having in- dulged only in the mild offence of witnessing a portion of the Carnival.
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February 28. — Yesterday, at the Hotel de St. Peters- burg, a pleasant dinner-party was given us, enlivened by an interesting description of military travels, through Egypt, by an Italian army officer. Professor Morse, of New York, seemed to enjoy the impressive manner and warmth of spirit with which the various ancedotes were told. Later in the evening the young and piquante wife of M. Luchese — the celebrated singing maestro — rendered to perfection those plaintive melodies — The Last Rose of Summer , and Home , sweet Home . In our hearts never was a chord more deeply touched, responsive to mem- ories of our native land. Selections from choice operas also were sung by this sweet nightingale, who promises to give to the stage, at no distant day, the charm of her voice and the beauty and coquetry of her person.
March 1. — Sunday, and the Holy Communion, amid the distractions of Paris and society-life! How can we serve God and Mammon too ? Do not our wayward feet lead us oftener to the latter shrine, and are not our devotions there the most faithful ? Passing the Made- lame towards the close of evening Vespers, we concluded to enter the spacious and beautiful temple, and found it thronged with worshipers. Twilight glimmered faintly through the windows, and wrapped the marbles in gray and purple shadows. You, who have stood in some grand cathedral at the dim hour that defines neither day nor night, can appreciate the solemnity that reigns at such times. Music floats more softly through the arches; vespers souud low and sweet, like the nun’s prayer ;
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and the very sanctuary, the finite sphere where we give praise, seems to merge, with the mysterious shadows, into the great infinite : — religious thought finding fullest scope in that perfect calm and harmony.
March 3. — A day so beautiful and so antagonistic to the reputation of this blustering month, suggested an , open phaeton and a pair of splendid horses, — the latter full of spirit, swift as lightning, proud and dashing in style, — reminding us of the mercurial French people. Many fair equestriennes were at the Bois, impacting grace to the scene — some escorted by handsome cavaliers, and others followed by their valets . * * * *
To-night the play or operetta of La Fanchonette came off at the Theatre Lirique, Place du Chatelet. Our party occupied the Imperial box, whose spacious dimen- sions and proximity to the stage greatly enhanced our enjoyment of the performance. On previous occasions we had been so cramped that there even seemed to be a limit set for breathing. The lighting of this house by a reflector, on a crystal ceiling, is not only beautiful, but soft and pleasant to the eye, and the new method should gain rapid favor. The purchase of refreshments, in the foyer , seems to be much in vogue, and affords a pleasant pastime during the entr’actes, which are always exceed- ingly long. Madame Carvalho entranced us with her vocalization, for hers is a bird-like voice, made up of trills and cadenzas. Flowers lay thickly strewn at her feet. The simplest offering, a white lilac-spray — per- haps the artist’ 8 fleur de preference — was gracefully R
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picked up, and added as an ornament to her rustic peas- ant attire.
This night of flowery ovation recalled an evening at the Opera Comique, when Mile. Marie Roze warbled the delicious music of Auber, in the “Premier jour de bonheur .” How beautiful a priestess ! Thou “ charmer of the gods of India ” and star of the “ far Orient,” do not longer veil from our gaze the soft beauty of thine eyes ! Sing to us forever, in poetic, dreamy strains, La chanson des Ljiurne; and, for the one night of pleasure thou hast granted us, may all thy days, like le premier , be full of music and happiness !
March 5. — Rain, after the fashion of a deluge, and much to be regretted, as we were in possession of a ticket to see Paris underground, or the great sewers! “ N’im - porte! Variety is very acceptable,” said we, as water- proof wrappings were donned and a carriage summoned. The round-faced, jolly cocker whipped up his old white horses all the way to Place du Chatelet, to ensure our arrival in time, not seeming to care a whit for the cold, pelting rain. He was dismissed with an additional pour boire , which caused him to smile upon us, and say to our escort, “ Vraiment lee dames sont bien courageuses! ” The spot from which we made our descent of twenty feet, underground, was near the Ch&telet fountain, that com- memorates the victories of the Republic aiid Empire. Several gendarmes stood at this aperture, which disclosed a winding stairway; and from the depths a sepulchral voice shouted, “ Vous ctcs bien tard — desccndez vite y s 9 il
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vous plait” With scarcely a moment to glance around at our subterranean quarters, we were stowed away in a little uncovered truck, at some distance from the com- pany that occupied the car ahead of us. One of its pas- sengers styled us " the three Graces,” and why he should have done so we know not, as our merits could not pos- sibly have been distinguishable in so dim a light. Dr.
C , one of the trio, did not relish this feminine title,
but we ladies rather liked the joke, and rejoiced in the feeble glow of the lantern, hoping that our nearer ap- proach would not neutralize the delicate compliment. The track extends over a channel about ten feet wide, whose current of water is entirely inoffensive; and the car is drawn by men. Having turned the first corner with a sudden jar and a grating noise that made me grasp at the arm of my escort, and that called forth a cry of alarm from his timid little wife, we merged into a still darker route, whose only light came from a re- flector a mile or more distant ; but it served as a beam
of hope to Mrs. C , who wanted to know “ if we
would stop there, and how long it would take to reach that one dear little spot.” Troubles are often more im- aginary than real. We passed many openings of smaller sewers, bearing numbers and names to correspond with the streets above ; and, at some of them, a ray of day- light momentarily flashed upon us. Still another fear and discomfort came to my frightened little companion in the drops of water that now and then fell upon her from the pipes overhead ; but she was re-assured when told that we were not going to travel the full extent of
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three hundred miles ; and so said not another word of -complaint. High up in the tunnel are suspended im- mense iron pipes, that convey water to various parts of the city, and on the sides are leaden ones containing tel- egraph wires. There were no gas-pipes visible, and upon inquiry as to the reason of it, we learned from our con- ductor that they were yet to be added. Having swiftly passed over several miles, the time came for a transfer from the “ low-back cars” to the canal boats, which turned off in the direction of the Place de la Madelaine, our destination. At the point where wc took the boats the stream was considerably wider, and the dark tide upon which we committed ourselves, together with the dreary surroundings, called up the horrors of the Styx and the Plutonian shades. An additional number of men was employed to do the laborious pulling. They wore dark blouses, and seemed inexpressibly relieved when they had brought us to a final halt. To the cry of “Montcz” we left the feathery mist and the dampness below for the upper regions, where we were greeted by the same obsti- nate shower that had pelted us on our start. Hereafter, when we sliall wend our way through clean streets, breathing an untainted atmosphere, wc will give a ' thought beyond palatial structures, busy marts, and gay people, to the great sewers that run, below, like veins and arteries, and whose purifying agency is felt all over Paris. Nor shall we forget the faithful workmen, who live there, day and night, on duty.
March 9. — A bunch of violets gathered in Nice was
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a sweet greeting to wearied eyes this morning, after the late hours of a soiree which had brought to us seventy or eighty friends. What a medley of grace and loveli- ness there was among the ladies— two or three of England’s fairest type; a merry, winsome face from Scotland; a soft-toned, dark-eyed daughter from Ire- land, with the lily on her brow, and the rose on her cheek ; a Morse rose-bud, transplanted from America to lend awhile its beauty, with other flowerets from the States ; and, added to all these, the esprit and coquetry of France. Under the sway of such captivations how numerous were the devotees! The Fall Mall Gazette wanted to embrace the whole cota'ie of charms in a
column of praise, but let Capt. B hesitate ere he
dedicates to perishable beauty an English monument .
Mr. Fitz H , if he seconds the Captain’s motion,
shall be made the corner-stoue, a worthy position, though not as charming as the angle he occupied last evening opposite a “ diamond-eyed ” daughter of the South. There were also Italy, with Prince Eugeue Ruffo, and the Dukes d’Artalia and Carrociola; Russia, with her hand- some representative answering to the name of Rumplert; Prussia, with her courteous Captain, gallant in peace as well as in Avar ; Gen. Quincy, of our own array ; Profes- sor Morse, of New York, whose snowy locks add to his other honors; and Paul Morphy, the king of chess- players, chcek-mated for once it seemed, Science sur- rendering gracefully to the gentler power Beauty !
March 10. — We discharged a heavy debt of visits
R*
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during the day, and, of the foreign element, saw Madame Nuba, the wife of the Egyptian Embassador, and her young daughter Zeba, whose striking style, — large almond-shaped eyes, olive tinted skin and jet black tresses — led the imagination to the grand Cleopatra. The Pasha was at home, and entertained us with great agree- ability of manner. Their home is luxurious, odd, and rich in all its appurtenances. A visit was also made to the Countess de Lindermann, whose matinees present a reflex of Parisian haul-ion .
March 13. — We went to see La Vie Parisienne at the Palais Royal last evening, just as if the theatre only afforded an insight into French follies and pleasures. The plot of the play abounds with amusing incidents. The grand finale — “ Celebrons Paris . Oui, voila la vie Parisienne , duplaisir a per dr e Vhaleine. Oui , voila la vie Parisienne! Apres toutes ces folies un pardon general ,” is sung by a chorus of merry singers. Amid all those exaggerations of human nature and reckless delights, there now and then flows an under-current of truth and fidelity to work a happy result. Every available space in the house was filled, showing the popular favor with which the play has been received. * * * *
This afternoon a drive, in company with Mr. and Mrs. Jonas C — , of California, was much enjoyed. We passed along the outskirts of the Bois and saw the Rothschild villa ; also the villa of the Emperor, and Mt. Valerien in the distance. The surrounding landscape was show- ered over with vernal beauties, for Spring is not a tardy goddess in this fairy realm.
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