the sounds of their music reached us in the most distinct and gratifying manner.  No “Diable boiteux” could ever have transported a “Don Cleophas Leandro Perez Zambullo” to a more favourable situation for a knowledge of what was passing in a city; and if the houses had been unroofed, we could have almost discerned whether the escrutoires were made of mahogany or walnut-wood!  This wonder-working effect proceeds from the extraordinary clearness of the atmosphere, and the absence of sea-coal fume.  The sky was perfectly blue—­the generality of the roofs were also composed of blue slate:  this, added to the incipient verdure of the boulevards, and the darker hues of the trunks of the trees, upon the surrounding hills—­the lengthening forests to the left, and the numerous white “maisons de plaisance"[69] to the right—­while the Seine, with its hundred vessels, immediately below, to the left, and in face of you—­with its cultivated little islands—­and the sweeping meadows or race-ground[70] on the other side—­all, or indeed any, of these objects could not fail to excite our warmest admiration, and to make us instinctively exclaim “that such a panorama was perfectly unrivalled!”

We descended Mont Ste. Catharine on the side facing the Hospice General:  a building of a very handsome form, and considerable dimensions.  It is a noble establishment for foundlings, and the aged and infirm of both sexes.  I was told that not fewer than twenty-five hundred human beings were sheltered in this asylum; a number, which equally astonished and delighted me.  The descent, on this side the hill, is exceedingly pleasing; being composed of serpentine little walks, through occasional alleys of trees and shrubs, to the very base of the hill, not many hundred yards from the hospital.  The architecture of this extensive building is more mixed than that of its neighbour the Hospice d’Humanite, on account of the different times in which portions of it were added:  but, upon the whole, you are rather struck with its approach to what may be called magnificence of style.  I was indeed pleased with the good order and even good breeding of its motley inhabitants.  Some were strolling quietly, with their arms behind them, between rows of trees:—­others were tranquilly sitting upon benches:  a third group would be in motion within the squares of the building:  a fourth appeared in deep consultation whether the potage of to day were not inferior to that of the preceding day?—­“Que cherchez vous, Monsieur?” said a fine looking old man, touching, and half taking off, his cocked hat; “I wish to see the Abbe Turquier,”—­rejoined I.  “Ah, il vient de sortir—­par ici, Monsieur.”  “Thank you.”  “Monsieur je vous souhaite le bon jour—­au plaisir de vous revoir!” And thus I paced through the squares of this vast building.  The “Portier” had a countenance which our Wilkie would have seized with avidity, and copied with inimitable spirit and fidelity.