as much as the children. Let us walk on. See that little fountain
gleaming through the tender green of the young leaves as you see
them in the pretty wood that forms a background to the picture. All
along in the road you observe fine equipages of all sorts standing
in waiting, while the gay world, or the poor invalids whom they
brought to this place of enchantment, are walking about or sitting
in chairs, courting health and amusement. Here is something still
prettier than any thing you have seen--a beautiful little carriage
that can hold four children and a driver, drawn by four white goats,
with black horns and beards.

The French are peculiarly kind to animals. No law is necessary in
France for the protection of animals from the cruelty of their
masters. You meet men and women, very respectably dressed, leading
dogs with the greatest care; and in the fashionable drives, every
tenth carriage (it seemed to me) had a dog lying on the seat, or
standing on his hind legs, looking out of the window. A friend told
me that, when present at a grand review where there was a great
crowd, she saw a woman, who could not get near enough to see the
show, hold up her dog over the heads of the people, that he might at
least have the pleasure of seeing what was going on.

I must tell you about the ceremony of making an archbishop, which we
had the good fortune to witness. It took place at Notre Dame.

The nave of the church was full. Around the altar, all the priests
and dignitaries of the church were seated; the officiating
archbishop in a high seat, and an empty chair by his side for the
new archbishop when finished and prepared for the honor. All the
priests were in full dress. Their garments were stiff with gold and