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Before the close of the service a contribution-box--or, rather, a black
velvet bag--was handed about by this military verger; and I gave J----- a
franc to put in, though I did not in the least know for what.
Issuing from the church, we inquired of two or three persons who was the
distinguished defunct at whose obsequies we had been assisting, for we
had some hope that it might be Rachel, who died last week, and is still
above ground. But it proved to be only a Madame Mentel, or some such
name, whom nobody had ever before heard of. I forgot to say that her
coffin was taken from beneath the illuminated pall, and carried out of
the church before us.
When we left the Madeleine we took our way to the Place de la Concorde,
and thence through the Elysian Fields (which, I suppose, are the French
idea of heaven) to Bonaparte's triumphal arch. The Champs Elysees may
look pretty in summer; though I suspect they must be somewhat dry and
artificial at whatever season,--the trees being slender and scraggy, and
requiring to be renewed every few years.


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