We saw Delille's tomb in the burying-ground of _Pere de la Chaise_, at Paris: a garland of flowers, evidently fresh gathered, had been hung by some admirer of his works over the door of his sepulchre. In this same apartment at Ferney were also portraits of Voltaire, Frederic of Prussia, the Empress Catharine of Russia (presented by herself), and some others. His own picture made a great impression upon us, not from any individual merit as a work of art, but as it so exactly expressed, in the countenance and air, the brilliant and lively genius, the arch satire, and acute penetration, of this celebrated wit. All the furniture of both rooms was dropping to pieces with age and decay. The garden was laid out in the ancient French mode, so abhorred by the purer taste of Rousseau at that time, and since, by every true judge of the grace and simplicity of nature. On one side was a grove of trees, and on the other a close embowered alley of hornbeam, cut into the shape of formal high walls, with gothic windows or openings in them, from whence the prospect of a rich vineyard in the foreground, a lovely smiling valley beyond, and the magnificent glaciers, with Mont Blanc, in the distance, formed a most sublime and yet an enchanting spectacle. I should think it almost impossible to live in the midst of all these charms and wonders of creation, without lifting an admiring eye and grateful heart to "Nature's God." That Voltaire was an atheist is thought now to be a calumny entirely void of foundation, although he was so miserably mistaken, so fatally deceived, in regard to the glorious truths of revealed religion. Living in an age when the pure doctrines and benignant spirit of Christianity were so atrociously misconstrued and misrepresented, when bigotry stalked abroad in all the horrors of her deformity, and ignorance blindly followed in the bloody traces of her footsteps, it is less to be wondered at than regretted, that Voltaire's vigorous understanding should have disdained their disgraceful shackles; and that in his just ridicule and detestation of the conduct of some followers of Christianity, he should have been unfortunately induced to mistake and vilify Christianity itself: notwithstanding some impious expressions concerning it, at which I shudder in the recollection, he has in many parts of his works evidently looked with a more favourable eye upon the protestant doctrines of England. Certain it is, that he built at his own expense the church at Ferney. Not that I mean to assert, that church-building, any more than church-going, is always an infallible proof of religious feeling; I only mention the fact. The church bears the following inscription: