ween it and the Palace, to
avoid passing through those parts of the garden which were open to the
public, who, during his promenade, were excluded from the terrace. The
Parisians did not like this exclusion, and used to say, on seeing his
Majesty, "_See, the lion is come out of his den_." This terrace was also
the constant walk of the ex-Empress and her son. I was told, that
shortly after Buonaparte's installation as Emperor, the people, to mark
their disapprobation of the dignity which he had assumed, entirely
deserted the gardens of this palace, which had always been their
favourite walk in the evenings; and that, being hurt at this, the
Emperor ordered one of his military bands to play here every evening.
The scheme succeeded; the attraction being too great for the Parisians
to resist, and the gardens were more frequented than ever.

The other front of the Tuilleries looks towards the Place du Carousel,
from which it is separated by a lofty iron balustrade, the top of which
is gilt. Opposite the centre entrance of the Palace stands a magnificent
triumphal arch, erected by Buonaparte, on the top of which he has placed
the four celebrated _bronze horses_, which were removed to Paris on the
seizure of Venice by his army, as they had been formerly transported by
conquest from Corinth to Constantinople, and thence to Venice, where
they adorned for several centuries the Place of St. Mark. These horses
are conducted by two figures of Victory, and Peace, executed by M.
Sencot, which many admire extremely.

Buonaparte has been no bad _locumtenens_ of this palace for the
Bourbons, as it bears abundant testimony to the taste with which he
caused it to be decorated. He had the entire of the Louvre _scratched_,
so as to give it quite a new appearance, and his crown and initials are
everywhere to be seen. On the grand _facade_ was an inscription,
signifying, "_that_ _Napoleon the Great had completed what Henry the
Fourth had begun_;" but this inscription has disappeared, since the
return of the descendants of Henry IV. to the palace which that great
king had built, and which an usurper endeavoured to persuade posterity
he had a share in constructing. It is worthy of remark, that this chef
d'oeuvre of architecture, as if has always been considered, was not the
work of a professed architect, but of M. Perrault, a physician. The word
Louvre is, by some, derived from the Saxon _Louvar_, signifying a
castle.

Buonaparte's plans for