288 ST. DENIS.
tribunals, where the advocates plead with their whole bodily force ; and in the Chamber of Deputies, where the exciting question of war with England was one morning discussed with such violence, as to excite my apprehensions that it might end in actual combat.
The Pantheon, formerly the Church of St. Genevieve, is a splendid structure, and its dome, being the most elevated one in Paris, affords an extensive prospect. Here are the bones of Voltaire and Rousseau ; here, also, Mirabeau was laid with great pomp, in the spring of 1791, while the horrors of that revolution were deepening, which he had done so much to precipitate. Beneath its pavement is a vast series of vaults, with roofs supported by Tuscan columns, and containing funeral urns, after the fashion of the Roman tombs at Pompeii. While following the dim lamp of our guide, we traversed this subterranean city of the dead, we were startled at a loud echo, which by the construc tion of two circular passages in the centre of the vaulted area, gives singular force and perpetuity to the slightest sound.
The exterior of the Church of St. Denis, though less elaborate than many others, is striking and suffi ciently ornate. The inhumed ashes of the .monarchs of France, from Clovis to Louis the Eighteenth, give interest to the spot, and a lesson to human pride. During the madness of the revolution, their repose was violated, but the broken sepulchres and scattered relics were again gathered and reunited. Many of the
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