top is the Genius of Liberty, with a torch in his right hand, and in the left a broken chain. After a fatiguing walk up a winding stair, I obtained a splendid view of Paris from the top of the column.
I thought I should not lose the opportunity of seeing the Church de Notre Dame while so near to it, and, therefore, made it my next rallying-point. No edifice connected with religion has had more interesting incidents occurring in it than this old church. Here Pope Pius VII. placed the imperial crown on the head of the Corsican,—or, rather, Napoleon took the crown from his hands, and placed it on his own head. Satan dragging the wicked to——— the rider on the red horse at the opening of the second seal, the blessedness of the saints, and several other striking sculptured figures, were among the many curiosities in this splendid place. A hasty view from the gallery concluded my visit to the Notre Dame.
Leaving the old church, I strayed off in a direction towards the Seine, and passed by an old-looking building of stately appearance, and recognized, among a throng passing in and out, a number of the members of the Peace Congress. I joined a party entering, and was soon in the presence of men with gowns on, and men with long staffs in their hands, and, on inquiry, found that I was in the Palais de Justice, beneath which is the Conciergerie, a noted prison. Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette were tried and condemned to death here.
A bas-relief, by Cortat, representing Louis in conference with his Council, is here seen. But I had visited
