Paris, Monday, June 9, 1851.

I left London Bridge at 11½ on Saturday for this City, via South-Eastern Railway to Dover, Steamboat to Calais and Railroad again to Paris. This is the dearest and quickest route between the two capitals, and its advertisements promised for $13½ to take us "Through in Eleven Hours," which was a lie, as is quite usual with such promises. We came on quite rapidly to Dover—a very mean, old town—but there lost about an hour in the transfer of our baggage to the steamboat, which was one of those long, black, narrow scow contrivances, about equal to a buttonwood "dug-out," which England appears to delight in. They would not be tolerated as ferry-boats on any of our Western rivers, yet they are made to answer for the conveyance of Mails and Passengers across an arm of the sea on the most important route in Europe. In this wretched concern, which was too insignificant to be slow, we went cobbling and wriggling across the Channel (27 miles) in something less than two hours, often one gunwale nearly under water and the other ten or twelve feet above it, with no room under deck for half our passengers, and the spray frequently dashing over those above it, three fourths of the whole number deadly sick (this individual of course included), when with a decent boat the passage might be regularly made, in spite of such a smartish breeze as we encountered, in comparative comfort. Perhaps we felt glad enough on reaching the shore to pay for this needless misery, and I readily believe that an hour or two of sea-sickness may be harshly wholesome, yet I do think that a good boat on such a route might well be afforded and cannot reputably be withheld. That part of England through which we passed on this route is much like that I have already described on the other side of London. The face of the country is very moderately undulating; there is a fair proportion of trees and shrubbery, though no considerable forest that I noticed; perhaps an eighth of the land may be sowed with Wheat, but Grass is the general staple. I should say three fourths of all the land in sight from this railway is covered with it, while very little is planted or devoted to gardening after the few miles next to London. Hops engross considerable attention, and I presume pay well, being demanded by the national addiction to beer drinking. Still, Grass, Cattle and Sheep are the Staples; and these require so much less human labor per acre than Grain and Vegetables that I cannot see how the rural, laboring population can find adequate employment or subsistence. It looks as though the gradual substitution of Grass for Grain since the repeal of the Corn-laws must deprive a large portion of the best British peasantry of work, compelling them to emigrate to America or Australia for a subsistence. Such emigration is already very active, and must increase if the present low prices of Breadstuffs prove permanent.

I was again disappointed in seeing so little attention to Fruit Culture. I know this is not the Fruit region of England, but the destitution of fruit trees is quite universal. Since it is plain that an acre of choice Apple trees will yield at least a hundred bushels of palatable food, with little labor, and grass enough beside to pay for all the care it requires, I cannot see why Fruit is so neglected. The peach, I hear, does poorly throughout the kingdoms, requiring extra shelter and sunshine, yet yielding indifferent fruit in return, which is reason enough for neglecting it; but the Apple is hardier, and does well in other localities no more genial than this. I think it has been unwisely slighted.

An important and profitable business, I think, might be built up in our country in the production of Dried Fruits, especially peaches, and their exportation to Europe, or at any rate to England. I was among those who "sat at good men's feasts," both rich and poor (the men, not the feasts), during the six weeks I was in England, yet I cannot remember that Dried Apples or Peaches were ever an element of the repast, though Gooseberries, Rhubarb, Raisins, Currants, &c., are abundantly resorted to. If some American of adequate capital and capacity would embark in the growth and curing of Apples, Peaches, &c., expressly for the English market, drying them perfectly, preparing them with scrupulous neatness, and putting them up in clean wooden boxes of twenty-five, fifty and one hundred pounds, I think he might do well by it. For such a purpose, cheap lands and cheap labor (that of aged persons and young children) might be made available, while in years of bountiful Peach harvests, like the last, even New-Jersey and Delaware could be drawn upon for an extra supply. The miscellaneous exportation of any Dried Fruits that might happen to be on the market would probably involve loss, because time and expenditure are required to make these products known to the great majority of British consumers, and assure them that the article offered them has been prepared with scrupulous cleanliness. With proper exertion and outlay, I believe an advantageous market might thus be opened for several Millions' worth of American products of which little or nothing is now known in Europe.

We were detained a long hour in Calais—a queer old town, with little trade and only a historical importance—although our baggage was not examined there, but sealed up for custom-house scrutiny at Paris. They made a few dollars out of us by charging for extra baggage, one of them out of me, though my trunk contained only clothing and three or four books. Small business this for a Railroad, though it will do in stage transportation. Our passports were scrutinized—mine not very thoroughly—we (the green ones) obtained an execrable dinner for 37½ cents, and changed some sovereigns for French silver at a shave which was not atrocious. Finally, we were all let go.

The face of the country inland from Calais is flat and marshy—more like Holland, as we conceive it, than like England or France. Of course, the railroad avoids the higher ground, but I did not see a cliff nor steep acclivity until darkness closed us in, though some moderate hills were visible from time to time, mainly on the right. Here, too, as across the Channel, Grass largely predominated, but I think there was a greater breadth of Wheat. I saw very few Fruit-trees, though much more growing Timber than I had expected, from the representations I had read of the treeless nakedness of the French soil. I think trees are as abundant for fifty miles southward from Calais as in any part of England, but they are mainly Elms and Willows, scarcely an orchard anywhere, and of course no vineyards, for the Grape loves a more Southern sun. The cultivation is scarcely equal to the English, though not strikingly inferior, and the evidences of a minute subdivision of the soil are often palpable. Fences are very rare, save along the sides of the railway; ditches serve their purpose near Calais, and nothing at all answers afterward. I presume wood becomes much scarcer as we approach Paris, but darkness forbade observation.

By the terms of the enticing advertisement, we should have been here at 10½ P. M., but, though we met with none other than the ordinary detentions, it was half-past two on Sunday morning when we actually reached the station at the barrier of the city. Here commenced the custom-house search, and I must say it was conducted with perfect propriety and commendable energy, though with determined rigor. Our trunks and valises were all arranged on a long table according to the numbers affixed to them respectively at Calais, and each, being opened by its owner, was searched in its turn, and immediately surrendered, if found "all right." I had been required to pay smartly on my books at Liverpool, though nobody could have suspected that they were for any other than my own use; so I left most of them at London and had no difficulty here. [One unlucky wight, who had pieces of linen in his trunk, had to see them taken out and put safely away for farther consideration.] I did not at first comprehend that the number on my trunk, standing out fair before me in honest, unequivocal Arabic figures, could possibly mean anything but "fifty-two," but a friend cautioned me in season that those figures spelled "cinquante-deux," or phonetically "sank-on-du" to the officer, and I made my first attempt at mouthing French accordingly, and succeeded in making myself intelligible.

It was fair daylight when we left the railway station for our various destinations. Mine was the "Hotel Choiseul," Rue St. HonorÉ, which had been warmly commended to me, and where I managed to stop pro tem. though there was not an unoccupied bed in the house. Paris, by the way, is quite full—scarcely a room to be had in any popular hotel, and, where any is to be found, the price is very high or the accommodations quite humble. London, on the contrary, where the keepers of hotels and lodging-houses had been induced to expect a grand crush, and had aggravated their prices accordingly, is comparatively empty. Thousands after thousands go there, but few remain for any time; consequently the hotels make what money is spent, while the boarding and lodging-houses are often tenantless. Many sharp landladies have driven away their old lodgers to the Country or the Continent by exorbitant charges, in the hope of extorting many times as much from visiters to the Exhibition; and have thus far been bitterly disappointed. I presume it will be so to the end. Sixty thousand people are as many as the Crystal Palace will comfortably hold, in addition to its wares and their attendants, and these make no impression on the vast capacity of London, while they go away as soon as they have satisfied their curiosity and ceased to attend the Fair, giving place to others, who require no more room than they did. I suspect theirs are not the only calculations which will be disappointed by the ultimate issues of the World's Exhibition.

THE MADELEINE.

My first day in Paris was Sunday, so, after breakfast, I repaired to the famous modern Church of the Madeleine, reputed one of the finest in Europe. This was the day of Pentecost, and fitly commemorated by the Church. The spacious edifice was filled in every part, though at least a thousand went out at the close of the earlier service, before the attendance was fullest.

I think I was never in a place of worship so gorgeous as this. Over the main altar there is a magnificent picture on the largest scale, purporting to represent the Progress of Civilization from Christ's day to Bonaparte's, Napoleon being the central figure in the foreground, while the Saviour and the Virgin Mary occupy a similar position in the rear. In every part, the Church is very richly and I presume tastefully ornamented.

I did not comprehend the service, and cannot intelligibly describe it. The bowings and genuflexions, the swinging of censers and ringing of bells, the frequent appearance and disappearance of a band of gorgeously dressed priests or assistants bearing what looked like spears, were "inexplicable dumb show" to me, and most of them unlike anything I remember to have seen in American Catholic Churches. The music was generally fine, especially that of a chorus of young boys, and the general bearing of the people in attendance, that of reverence and interest.

"Peace be with all, whate'er their varying creeds,
With all who send up holy thoughts on high."

But I could not bring myself to like the continual circulation of several officials throughout almost the entire service, collecting rents for seats (they were let very cheap), and begging money for "the Poor of the Church;" as a stout, gross, absurdly overdressed herald who preceded the collectors loudly proclaimed. I think this collection should have been taken before or after the Mass. There was no sermon up to one o'clock, when I left, with nearly all the audience, though there may have been one afterward.