FROM EGYPT TO FRANCE

And now we are in Ismalia, our sailing port. Two steamers are momentarily expected; one bound for Brindisi, the other for Marseilles. The poor hotel accommodations were emphasized when this avalanche of people came down upon them. After baggage was identified and there was no room in the inn for many of us, I selected a sofa in the drawing room, on which to rest till the signal was given that the "Caledonia" was in sight. It was not a bed of roses, but many around me had a worse accommodation; but upon it I became half unconscious from sheer exhaustion, when a tender hand was laid upon me, and a kind, persuasive voice whispered in my ear: "Come with me; there is room for you with us." Almost reluctantly I arose and followed Mrs. Logan, who had, through her well-known forethought, secured two apartments for herself and party, the latter having agreed to double up and give me the extra cot in Mrs. Logan's room. We expected surely the cry would come at midnight, and we slept with one eye open to sight our steamer's coming. It was a cold, moonlight night. The desert's glistening sands were on one side of us, the sparkling waters of Lake Tesmah in the Suez Canal on the other. There was a bird with a lone, peculiar cry that added loneliness to the scene, and when the morning light dawned upon us we were still in Ismalia. A most inhospitable breakfast was served us, and at nine o'clock came the welcome cry: "Ship ahoy!" The wharf from off which these steamers anchored was near to the hotel and a procession of yawning pedestrians was soon on its wending way, followed by innumerable dragomen, who were still in anticipation of one more backsheesh, and a crowd of blear-eyed, frowsy Arab children brought up the rear. Breakfast was awaiting us on the good old ship "Caledonia," and a warm welcome from Capt. Andrews. My spirits rose, and my traveling friends, Mrs. Wilbur and her daughter, soon were on deck, taking in the surroundings. We landed at Port Said about 5:00 p. m. I invested my last piaster in an olive wood paper cutter. Port Said is said to be the most wicked place on earth. As I hailed from Chicago I thought perhaps honors were even. We did not go ashore, but got our steamer chairs in readiness for the next day, as we were told we would have a choppy sea, and we fully realized the truth of the prophecy. Our cabins proved the safe retreat, and there I remained until we reached Brindisi, at 6:00 a. m., February the 5th. At 5:30 we were called on deck by a visit from the health officers, as our vessel hailed from an infected district. All bore the inspection and we soon set sail again and landed in Marseilles the 7th of February. My baggage was soon O. K.'d, and a cab took me with my luggage to the hotel. Later in the day I took a drive through the city, and was much impressed with the growth since a former visit in 1881. Off the coast of Marseilles is built the famous prison Chateau d'If, immortalized by the author of Monte Cristo, a fine view of which is seen from the church of Notre Dame, built on a high rock on the outskirts of the city. The train for Paris leaves at 9:00 p. m., and after a fair night's rest, I am in the French custom house, where I have no trouble. A cab is secured for me and I land safely in time for coffee and rolls at Madame Therries, where I am expected. A hasty toilet and refreshments taken, gave me fresh strength, and I soon found my way to Brown & Shipley, bankers, where I found eight letters from home. I took up one, the latest date; found from its contents "all were well," and I retraced my steps to my own apartment, where I spent a most blessed day, reading and writing letters.

Paris, as it is to-day (1896) strikes a visitor as one of the most cleanly, most attractive cities in the world with its triumphal arches, which Napoleon had erected in commemoration of his victories, one of which, "The Arc de Triomphe," was begun in 1806, although the work was not completed till 1836, long after the founder and architect had passed away. This arch is the largest in the world. The arch is ninety feet high and forty-five feet wide. It is considered too narrow for its height, and the insignificant ornaments along the top of the structure destroy all grandeur of outline. You will find "Hare's Walks" your best guide book for Paris and its surroundings. A year and a half's researches are herein condensed. I never fail to revisit Versailles, when the opportunity presents itself. Your early studies in history will enable you, in later life, after seeing this beautiful architectural pile, to long for a more extended history. The fountains are only in full play on the Sabbath day, and throngs of people of all walks in life, are seen in these grounds and crowd the corridors of historical paintings. La Madeline, one of the popular churches, resembles a Pagan temple. Begun by Louis XV (1777) as a church, and finished under Louis Philippe in 1832, it resembles the Parthenon of the Greeks. You will hear fine music at the Church of "La Trinita," but the Parthenon is full of interest. The first church on or near this site was built by Clovis, and dedicated to St. Genevieve; it was burnt by the Normans and after numerous changing of owners, it was finally, by the order of Louis XV, torn down and rebuilt, as a votive offering to St. Genevieve, who he believed to be his patron saint during his extreme illness. The first stone of the new church was laid by this king in 1764, and was completed by the architect, Rondelet, the pupil of the first architect Soufflot (deceased), in 1780. It is the burial place of illustrious citizens. Its possession was in a transition state for years; first a church of God, then a resting place for the immortal dead. At length, in 1885, it was taken from the worship of God and given Victor Hugo, whose tomb to the right as you enter is usually the first to be shown. The tombs of Voltaire and Rousseau are empty, having been pillaged during the revolution. Pere La Chaise and Montmartre are cemeteries where familiar names are recorded on tombstones and mausoleums. In the former lie Abelard and Heloise, the tragedienne Rachel, and the open sarcophagus ready for the remains of Sarah Bernhardt, when she, too, shall lay off this mortal coil. There are in Pere La Chaise, and in Montmartre, many musical celebrities. While I was there, in April or May (1896), Ambrose Thomas' funeral cortege solemnly wended its way from La Trinita to this field of tombs. The funeral dress of the Frenchman is what we term full evening dress. The bier or catafalque is clothed in black broadcloth, embroidered in silver. The floral offerings are piled upon it; colossal wreaths of violets and immortelles, strung on wire, are emblematic in their designs. No music on that lonely march on foot but the quiet tread beats a requiem for the dead.

Fine views are obtained from the galleries of the Trocadero. In the same vicinity is the "Palais d'Industrie," which was used in 1852-55 for the great exposition, and will be utilized again in 1900 for another fair. The shops of Paris are small; the windows seemingly contain most of the stock. We must except those great magazines, the "Louvre" and the "Bon Marche."

"The Musee de Luxembourg, by the order of Louis XVIII, contains only such works of living artists as were acquired by the state. The works of each artist are removed to the galleries of the Louvre ten years after his death; the pictures are constantly changing. The walks in the Garden of the Luxembourg are the best types of ancient palace pleasance. They are considered the pleasantest spots in Paris. The character of the Louvre has changed from a fortress or a state prison (1367) to a picture gallery. It was the great dungeon tower in the center of this palace, or castle, called the Louvre, that the great feudataires came to take or renew the feudal oaths; it was there the great ceremonies took place. The Louvre was enlarged by Charles V, who added many towers and surrounded it with a moat, which was supplied from the Seine. He made a palace into a complete rectangular, always preserving the great central dungeon tower. Francis I destroyed this tower (1527). It took five months to do this, as it was as strong as the day it was built. It was regretted by the populace, because they lost the pleasure of seeing great lords imprisoned there. The existing palace was begun under Pierre Lescot in 1541. During Henry II's reign of twelve years, Lescot continued his work. After Henry II's death his widow, Catherine de Medici, came with her children to live in the new palace. Henry IV united the buildings that Catherine de Medici had built with those she had previously built, which, under the name of Tuilleries, were still outside the limits of the town. And from this time no one touched the Louvre till Richelieu demolished all that remained of the feudal buildings and used only in rebuilding the existing wings as the half of his facade of his new Louvre, and built two others on the same plan to make the building a perfect square.

While the minority of Louis XIV lasted, Anne of Austria lived with her children in the Palais Cardinal, now Palais Royal, and even while the work was going on at the Louvre, apartments were given to the exiled Henrietta Maria of England, daughter of Henry IV, who met with most generous treatment from her sister-in-law. Little more was done toward improving the Louvre through the reigns of Louis XV and XVI, and then came the revolution (1848). Napoleon III determined, as he was in power, to unite the Tuilleries and Louvre into one great whole. This was carried out and accomplished in 1857."

During my visits to Paris (1881 and 1896) the repairs to the central facade of the Tuilleries had not been made. This unmeaning, desolate space presents to the mind the ruthless hand of war in the conflict of man's ambition for supremacy. Before the revolution of 1876, historians tell us that between the beautiful chestnut avenues, across the brilliant flowers and quaint orange trees of the garden, beyond the sparkling glory of the fountains, rose the majestic facade of a palace, infinitely harmonious in color, indescribably picturesque and noble in form, and interesting beyond description from its associations, the one spot to be visited by strangers, which attracted the sympathies of the world.

We see the Arc de Triomphe du Carousal, built in 1806, by Fontaine, for Napoleon I. The car and horses are a reproduction of the famous group on St. Marks at Venice, which Napoleon captured, but were afterwards restored by the allies. The street scenes of Paris are most entertaining, but to enjoy it in its perfection, go when you are young, before your muscles grow stiff and your eyes dim, for the "run for your life" requires agility and good vision.