c, apartments, through the secret door by
which Marie Antoinette had escaped from the mob of 1792, and viewed the
room in which her faithful guards were killed, while attempting to save
their Royal mistress. I took my seat in one of the little parlour
carriages that had been used in days of yore for the Royal children;
while my friend, H.G. Chapman, drew me across the room. The superb
apartments are not now in use. Silence is written upon these walls,
although upon them are suspended the portraits of men of whom the world
has heard.

Paintings, representing Napoleon in nearly all his battles, are here
seen; and wherever you see the Emperor, there you will also find Murat,
with his white plume waving above. Callot's painting of the battle of
Marengo, Hue's of the retaking of Genoa, and Bouchat's of the 18th
Brumaire, are of the highest order; while David has transmitted his fame
to posterity, by his splendid painting of the Coronation of Napoleon and
Josephine in Notre Dame. When I looked upon the many beautiful paintings
of the last named artist, that adorn the halls of Versailles, I did not
wonder that his fame should have saved his life, when once condemned and
sentenced to death during the reign of terror. The guillotine was robbed
of its intended victim, but the world gained a great painter. As Boswell
transmitted his own name to posterity with his life of Johnson, so has
David left his, with the magnificent paintings that are now suspended
upon the walls of the palaces of the Louvre, the Tuileries, St. Cloud,
Versailles, and even the little Elysee.

After strolling from room to room, we found ourselves in the Salle du
Sacre, Diane, Salon de Mars, de Mercure, and d'Apollon. I gazed with my
eyes turned to the ceiling till I was dizzy. The Salon de la Guerre is
covered with the most beautiful representations that the mind of man
could conceive, or the hand accomplish. Louis XIV. is here in all his
glory. No Marie Antoinette will ever do the honours in these halls
again.

After spending a whole day in the Palace and several mornings in the
Gardens, I finally bid adieu to the bronze statue of Louis XIV. that
stands in front of the Palace, and left Versailles, probably for ever.

* * * * *

PARIS, _September 2_.

I am now on the point of quitting the French Metropolis. I have occupied
the last two days in visiting places of note in the city. I could not
resist t