any acts of cruelty, that it made me
shudder as I passed over its grounds. As if to take from one's mind the
old associations of this place, the French have erected on it, or rather
given a place to, the celebrated obelisk of Luxor, which now is the
chief attraction on the grounds. The obelisk was brought from Egypt at
an enormous expense; for which purpose a ship was built, and several
hundred men employed above three years in its removal. It is formed of
the finest red syenite, and covered on each side with three lines of
hieroglyphic inscriptions, commemorative of Sesostris--the middle lines
being the most deeply cut and most carefully finished; and the
characters altogether number more than 1600. The obelisk is of a single
stone, is 72 feet in height, weighs 500,000 lbs., and stands on a block
of granite that weighs 250,000 lbs. He who can read Latin will see that
the monument tells its own story, but to me its characters were all
blank.

It would be tedious to follow the history of this old and venerated
stone, which was taken from the quarry 1550 years before the birth of
Christ; placed in Thebes; its removal; the journey to the Nile, and
down the Nile; thence to Cherbourg, and lastly its arrival in Paris on
the 23d of December, 1833--just one year before I escaped from slavery.
The obelisk was raised on the spot where it now stands, on the 25th of
October, 1836, in the presence of Louis Philippe and amid the greetings
of 160,000 persons.

Having missed my dinner, I crossed over to the Palais Royal, to a dining
saloon, and can assure you that a better dinner may be had there for
five francs, than can be got in New York for twice that sum, and
especially if the person who wants the dinner is a coloured man. I found
no prejudice against my complexion in the Palais Royal.

Many of the rooms in this once abode of Royalty, are most splendidly
furnished, and decorated with valuable pictures. The likenesses of
Madame de Stael, J.J. Rousseau, Cromwell, and Francis I., are among
them.

* * * * *

After several unsuccessful attempts to-day, in company with R.D. Webb,
Esq., to seek out the house where once resided the notorious
Robespierre, I was fortunate enough to find it, but not until I had
lost the company of my friend. The house is No. 396, Rue St. Honore,
opposite the Church of the Assumption. It stands back, and is reached by
entering a court. During the first revolution it was oc