PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. * THIS New York volume is

the result of the observation and ex- perience of an American who for some time resided in Paris for the education of his children. It has not that attraction of character and contrast which American books on Europe sometimes possess ; for a wide experience in many countries, and perhaps an enjoy- ment of the Parisian life he condemns, has given our author cos- mopolitan ideas and the toleration of a mart of the world. The book, however, combines in an agreeable way a picture of Paris and its people, an estimate of French character and principles, with notices of passing events and opinions. Much above a guide-book in its descriptive parts, the volume presents a good picture of the most striking features of Paris, and will furnish a stranger with hints as to places that the common sight-seer might overlook. The estimate of the French is fall, fair, and just, without harsh- ness, dealing equally with their gooti and evil qualities. The opinion on the public or political character of the nation is severe to a degree—perhaps unjustly so. Without seeming to favour Louis Napoleon, the author adopts all the views of his creatures as to his having " saved society " from the anarchy and civil war, that were impending in 1852, and would have involved France in rapine and blood but for the coup d'etat. The American also comes to the conclusion that the French people are at present unfit for freedom, under either a republic or a constitutional monarchy like England ; but must be ruled by a despotism, for they are in- capable of governing themselves.

"The great cry of the people is for work that will give them bread, and the energies of the authorities are greatly directed toward providing them with labour. Luxury and extravagance are encouraged among the rich, that the poor may live. Public works are prosecuted to prevent emeutes. The necessity for present relief is always so urgent that permanent improve- ment advances but slowly. The Government is ever in the position of a rider to a restless horse ; if he relax the rein for a second he is thrown. There can be no radical change in the character of the people unfit-religion and education combine to teach them the duties they owe to God and'man. While they remain half-starved, or fed like animals in a cage—their highest aim a full stomach—they will chafe and growl in their confinement. Louis XIV. expended 200,000,000 dollars on one palace. That money devoted to education would have kept Louis XVI. on the throne, and advanced the civili- zation and freedom of Europe a century. Versailles is the wonder of art; but France pays for it in the Socialism of today. "In the United States, where the nice adjustment of counterbalancing powers and general intelligence makes the political machine move on quietly in its accustomed track, no adequate conception can be formed of the evils to which France is exposed from the passions and ignorance of its labouring masses, misled by unprincipled demagogues or conceited theorists. There is no spirit of conciliation in French politics. A difference of views is a war to the knife. Falsehood, force, treachery, and every kindred weapon, is em- ployed to attain the desired end. The Government strangles liberty, as it alleges, that society may exist. Independence of speech, action, or writing, everything which gives political importance to the individual becomes a crime. The press, army, judiciary, and even the church, exist only as the slaves of authority. Spies are everywhere. The Government spreads a thick web over France, ready, like a spider, to dart upon any intruder upon the slightest movement. With this annihilation of political freedom, which in the United States would be the signal of universal dissolution, she pros- pers—growing mightier and richer as liberty recedes. Call her by what name you will, the freedom of America becomes her curse, and the despotism of Russia her security. This being the case,. she has no alternative but to maintain a strong government, until education and tranquillity shall have prepared her citizens for the rational enjoyment of those privileges which are the birthright alike of all men. It is not so much political as individual reform that France needs."

The facts upon which our American founds his conclusions are in part the result of his own observation, which of course must be limited; in part they are derived from unquestionable public en-

* Parisian Sights and French Principles seen through American Spectacles. Pub- Balled by Harper and Brothers, New York ; imported by Sampson Low, tistics, &c. ; to a considerable extent they seem to rest upon the reports or publications which the agents of Louis Napoleon have disseminated. The first and second class of data refer to manners, morals, education, and so forth, where the temptation to error or falsification is . comparatively small. The third data, relating to immediate politics, with their gratification of ambition and profit, are more obnoxious to suspicion ; and we are by no means sure but that our author has yielded too ready a credence to tales of Jacobin conspiracies ramifying all over Europe, plots prepared for 1852, and schemes of robbery and devastation that were to accompany the death of the President and the leading friends of order. Still, if this notion, whether truly or falsely, was fairly rooted in the minds of Frenchmen, it readily enough explains their submission to Louis Napoleon, and their preference of a despotism which they suppose will keep their lives and properties safe. As we lately observed, the Socialists, Red Republicans, or by whatever name they may be called, have to thank their predecessors of the Reign of Terror for this feeling, and their own equivocal conduct, and more unequivo- cal praises of the Jacobins.

The American was a spectator of the coup d'etat, so far as a proper regard to his own safety admitted. His facts do not greatly aiffer from those already known ; nor does he deny that the Pre- sident caused the slaughter on calculation—allowing the barricades to be put up, that they might afterwards be knocked down. His statements confirm what is more dimly indicated by Victor Hugo —that members of the dissolved Assembly and others organized the resistance, and had they been able to destroy the President, would have succeeded to his position. The writer judges of the massacre on the boulevards from his own point of view. He ex- cuses the soldiery, looking to the circumstances in which they were placed, exposed in a street, and not knowing who were friends or foes ; for this author declares that houses on the boule- vards were taken possession of by the insurgents, and that the troops suffered severely from their fire. The whole account of the three days is interesting, much as has been written upon the sub- 'cot. The following is from the third day, the 4th December; and

• s in the neighbourhood of the Porte St. Denis.

• I was surprised to see how many boys there were in their ranks. They went to work in all these violences as if on a frolic,—light-hearted, and even jovial. From their manner I should rather have supposed that they were gathering materials for a rustic fair than for a struggle in which no quarter would be given. I saddened to think how many that I saw so busy around me would be shot or bayoneted before night. The comments of the spectators varied : some said, let the rascals go ahead ; they wish to plunder and kill— they will soon be taught a good lesson; others encouraged. One man asked me if I were German or English : on my, replying that I was an American, `Aft!' said he, with a sigh, you live in a true republic.' " I asked a fine-looking boy of about fourteen, in a school uniform, with a stick in his hand, at the end of which was a bayonet, what he intended do- ing: You are too young to fight.' He laughed, brandished his weapon, and inn off to join a crowd, listening to the reading of a proclamation an- nouncing the deposition of Louis Napoleon, and calling upon the Parisians to give their allegiance to the Provisional Government formed by such of the members of the late Assembly as had escaped arrest. "A rough-looking fellow, armed with a musket, who seemed to have author- ity, came up to me' and said, If you are one of the curious, you had better be off.' I thought so too, as appearances began to wear a serious aspect. The houses overlooking the barricades were taken possession of and garrison- ed; sentinels were placed at the principal points ; the non-combatants were mostly gone, and few but fighters left. I had been there less than two hours; yet so rapidly had the mob worked, that all the streets opening upon this vicinity were already fortified. I was forced to climb three barricades, politely assisted over one by an armed lad in a blouse, before getting clear of their line of operations. It was most injudiciously chosen, for it could be attacked to equal advantage in front and rear; and their flanks were also exposed.

" I found the boulevards below almost deserted. A brigade of infantry and artillery were just turning the corner of the street, marching without music, slowly, toward the first barricade. Before reaching it they halted. One half the artillery passed in front, and was pointed towards the breast- works ; the other wasloaded with grape, and pointed in the other direction. The few persons about saluted the troops with ' Vive la Republique The commanding-officer ordered the boulevard to be cleared. The troops charged upon us, and we slipped out of the way by the side-streets.

" I then walked down the Rue Montmartre, where I saw similar scenes. Coming out again upon the Boulevard des Italiens, I found the entire length of the boulevard, from the spot I first left, filled with troops, in order of battle. The line extended into the Rue de la Pais. It was a stirring spec- tacle to witness regiment after regiment of artillery, cavalry, and infantry, peas up this noble avenue to take their stations. In the novelty and beauty of their array, I .quite lost sight of the fact that they were ordered out to slaughter these misguided people I had so recently left. At one time they cleared the side-walks, and allowed no one to approach their lines. The sentinels, however, for some inexplicable cause, were shortly removed ; and those of the populace who had more curiosity than fear allowed to pass along as far as the Boulevard Bonne Nouvelle. This led to the melancholy slaughter of thirty-five individuals and the wounding of a large number soon after, on the Boulevard Montmartre, just above where I was. Opposite me was the Seventh Lancers ; a fine corps, recently arrived in Paris. "I stood talking with a friend, when, from the upper end of the line, the discharge of cannon was heard, followed by a blaze of musketry and a gene- ral charge. The stragglers on the boulevards took to flight in all directions. They pitched headlong into open doErs, or loudly demanded entrance at the closed. I was fortunate enough to get into a neighbouring carriage-way, through the grated porte cocbdre of which I could see what was going on. The firing was tremendous. Volley followed volley so fast that it seemed like one continued peal of thunder. Suddenly there was a louder and nearer crash : the cavalry in the front of me wavered; and then, as if struck with panic, turned, and rushed in disorder down the street, making the ground tremble under their tread. What could have occurred ? The first supposi- tion was that the different regiments had turned their arms upon each other ; another, that the Reds had proved too strong for the troops. In a few mi- nutes the horsemen came charging back, firing their pistols on all sides. Then came in quick succession the orders 'to shut all windows • to keep out of sight ; to open the blinds, 80.' It seemed an unexpected fire had been opened upon the soldiers from some of the houses above, by which they at first suffered so severely as to cause a recoil. The roar of fire-arms was now tremendous. Mortars and cannon were directed point-blank at the

suspicious houses, within a few rods distance, and fired. They were then carried by assault.

"The rattle of small shot against windows and walls was incessant. This was too in the finest part of the boulevards. Costly houses were completely riddled; their fronts were knocked in ; balls passed through the various floors, and lodged finally wherever their spent force destined them. The windows were destroyed by the concussion of the cannon ; and as for the outer walls, they looked as if a thunder-storm of bullets had passed over them. They were literally peppered with lead from cellar to roof. Some balls had passed through panes of glass, leaving holes as true and clear of their exact size as if they had been cut out by a diamond. Of the hair- breadth escapes of the inmates, and the general destruction of property I need not speak. The Government afterwards footed all the bills for the last. The firing continued for nearly an hour, and then receded to more distant parts of the city ; for the field of combat embraced an area of several miles, and there were some 40,000 troops engaged.

"As soon as I could with safety, I left my covert. * • r

" Emerging from the line of soldiers as I reached the parts of the city re- moved from their surveillance, I noticed a bitter feeling among. the better classes for the day's work. The slaughter was, as it always is in the heat of a battle, greatly exaggerated. Still it was with no gratifying emotions that one could ruce it even to a few hundred. It was civil war—fratri- cide. I reached home indignant and mournful."

Although the impression left by the author is favourable to the rule of Louis Napoleon as a necessity, his opinion of the man is by no means flattering. This is from his summary.

" Of the character of Louis Napoleon, the six millions of Frenchmen who voted him the President of the Republic knew nothing. They cast the souvenirs of his uncle into the electoral urns. Three years have passed, and they have learned only that he is an unreadable man. Suddenly and with- out warning, he broke his solemn oath of office, overturned the constitution, drove the legislators of the people from their hall of assembly by the bayonet, imprisoned and exiled the best blood and talent of France, muzzled the press by a law severer than the ordinance which cost Charles X. his throne, shot his fellow-citizens by hundreds in the streets, rode rough-shod over all classes, grasping the entire liberties of his country ; and yet the people con- firmed his power, and his acts, by the largest vote ever bestowed upon a

ruler. * • " The mass sustain Louis Napoleon on account of his name; the men of property because his popularity is the only counterpoise to the Socialists ; the Legitimists and noblesse, that they may exist in peace. As one said to me, they must eat and drink. To all he is the man of destiny. They have submitted to a greater tyranny than even the Emperor dared exercise : not that they accept this policy as their permanent rule, but that France, like the maniac in the strait-jacket, may gradually recover her senses, and learn to appreciate the blessings of rational freedom. " No ruler ever outraged constitutional liberty in a more summary way than Louis Napoleon. Paradoxical as it may appear, perhaps no one has at this moment greater strength in the country at large. They trust him be- cause they believe he has a mission to perform—that he will save France. He has it in his power to ruin or redeem her. If the selfish and vain- glorious policy of his uncle is to be his guide, he has everything to fear : if, on the contrary, he preserves a firm hand, relaxing, as time and discipline prepare the way for popular forms of government, devoting the resources intrusted to him to the moral improvement and education of the people, France may be at this moment nearer Republicanism than she has ever yet been."

We have confined our remarks and extracts to what is at present the most interesting subject in connexion with France. The volume contains a variety of matter relating to Paris and to Frenchmen, which is interesting in itself as well as from the nationality of the author, and presented without that rather vulgar mannerism which distinguishes many American writers.