After this address, which was received with much applause, the distribution of the prizes ensued; the names of the more eminent successful candidates being proclaimed by M. Cousin, M. Poinsot, and M. St. Marc Girardin, members of the council of instruction; the rest by the inspecteur des études, M. Bourdon; M. Cousin announcing the philosophy prize, M. Poinsot that for mathematics, M. St. M. Girardin for rhetoric. The prizemen, as their names were called over, descended from their places and approached M. Villemain, who placed a green wreath of ivy on their heads and kissed them on the temples. The prizes consisted of sets of handsomely bound books, the music playing at the announcement of each prize. : The distribution at the Institution Mourice above described, was, it will be seen, a miniature of this great academic anniversary, but there were some points of difference. At the former there were many of the clergy, and the prizes were distributed by them at the concours neither the Archbishop nor any one of the eighty Bishops of France was present, and only very few of the clergy scattered here and there among the spectators. Again, in the former, there were prizes for religious knowledge; here, at the University, there was no notice of any thing of the kind in the long list of honours which were con Instruction by M. Salvandy, who now holds that office; and M. Villemain, after an illness of a few months, is now restored to health.] ferred. I had a neighbour sitting next me at the concours, who seemed to be in little sympathy with the principles of the proceedings of the day. He was a young man, and had a book with him to read in the interval of waiting, before the commencement of the ceremony. He appeared to think that the spirit of the Jeunes Elèves was any thing but favourable to the maintenance of the powers that be; and their demand for the music of the Revolution elicited from him many expressions of regret at the democratic temper which prevails in the University. He appeared to think that the monarchy was losing strength with the rise of the new generation. He asserted that the king would not venture to make his appearance in such a popular assembly as the present, from apprehension of personal danger. He ́asked me whether I was in Paris at the anniversary of the glorious "three days;" if I had been, he said, I should have seen that when the king appeared at the window, no one in the crowd cried " Vive le Roi!" and no one even "posa son chapeau" in return. This seems almost incredible; but certain it is-and it has struck me very forcibly-that the contrast is very great between the public exhibitions of loyalty at Paris twelve years ago, and the total indifference and almost oblivion into which the national mind seems now to have fallen with respect to the person of the monarch, and the claims of the monarchy. At that time I remember, as one symptom of the general feeling, that the print-shops were crowded with portraits of Louis Philippe ; I have now been in almost every part of the capital, and I have not seen one single portrait of him, save only that just mentioned in this hall of the grand concours at the Sorbonne. There seems to be a natural disposition in the French people to be soon weary of their toys, and this unhappy spirit of restlessness and discontent shows itself in the destruction of their history, their geography, their systems of weights and measures, their literature, and their religion, and all that ought to be most permanent. How often have the divisions of their country changed their names! How frequently have the streets of Paris received new appellations! How puzzled their public buildings must be to know their own purposes and designations! Witness the Pantheon with its various phases of metamorphosis: look at the Madeleine, destined first to be a Temple of the Legion of Honour, and now a Christian Church; turn to the Arc de Triomphe with its shifting titles; notice again the Place de la Concorde with its discordant nomenclature, which has effaced the recollection of two kings; observe the complete remodelling, in the present century, of the boundaries of all the dioceses of France; contemplate the total revolution in the system of national instruction which has taken place in the same period; and mark the change of feeling with respect to religion which is now rapidly diffusing itself both among the clergy and laity, and view the altered position which, by the virtual destruction of the Gallican Church as a national establishment, and by its almost unanimous renunciation (on the part at least of the clergy) of those very liberties for which it contended so zealously in 1682°, the clergy of France now occupy with respect both to the government and to Rome; and the only subject for surprise is, that in this Euripus of civil and ecclesiastical flux and reflux the existing dynasty should have remained at anchor for so long a period as fourteen years. Thus it should almost seem that the prospect of further continuance is lessened by the duration which has been already allowed to the existing government by the people, who, notwithstanding Parisian fortifications and national guards, are its masters as they were its authors. I have said that a very great part of the literature of France bears evidence of this inconstancy. A public proof of it is given by the daily press. The newspapers, one and all, have now unfortunately adopted the practice, which is of recent date, of giving what they call feuilletons, that is to say, a certain quantity of subsidiary matter ranged in dwarf columns in the lower part of three sides of the paper (like notes at the foot of a text), the subject of which is taken from real or imaginary life. Thus the public is presented, day by day, with a great number of romances pub • See note to p. 8, at end. lished by instalments, which form the habitual study of the greater part of the male and female population of Paris. In this way newspapers, not only as containing news, but as supplying works of fiction, have become the literature of the country. We may have a fair idea of this kind of publication by supposing chapters of Pickwick or Oliver Twist published day by day in the base of the columns of the "Times" or "Morning Post." The misfortune is, that these feuilletons put all other literature to flight, in addition to the mischief which from their low subjects and vicious style they directly produce. They are the food-or rather the poison-of the public mind; and the writer who caters with most success as the prime restaurateur for this sort of literary viands, is the great and admired author of the day. At present M. Eugène Sue is the king of romancers, and the hero of feuilletons; he is engaged by the Constitutionnel at a sum which I heard stated, but from its greatness am afraid to mention. The circulation of this paper, which is enormous, is said to be mainly owing to his contributions of course his fame will be as ephemeral as that of his predecessors, the other literati of the same style, Balzac, Soulié, Victor Hugo, &c. : After the concours we paid a visit to one of the largest Colleges belonging to the University, that of Louis le Grand, at the east of the Sorbonne, i. e. on the opposite side of the Rue St. Jacques. The building is very spacious, and was formerly a convent, but |