he head of
John the Baptist after his decapitation, are exhibited every seven
years; for the antiquarian, it is a noble abbey of "filles a abbesse,"
connected with the male convent, which was built by Saint Gregory, son
of Nicephore, Emperor of the East; for the hunter, it is the ancient
valley of the wild boars; for the merchant, it is a "fabrique" of cloth,
needles, and pins; and for him who is no merchant, manufacturer, hunter,
antiquary, pilgrim, tourist, or invalid, it is the city of Charlemagne.

Charlemagne was born at Aix-la-Chapelle, and died there. He was born in
the old place, of which there now only remains the tower, and he was
buried in the church that he founded in 796, two years after the death
of his wife Fastrada. Leo the Third consecrated it in 804, and tradition
says that two bishops of Tongres, who were buried at Maestricht, arose
from their graves, in order to complete, at that ceremony, 365 bishops
and archbishops--representing the days of the year. This historical and
legendary church, from which the town has taken its name, has undergone,
during the last thousand years, many transformations. No sooner had I
entered Aix than I went to the chapel.... The effect of the great
"portail" is not striking; the facade displays the different styles of
architecture--Roman, Gothic, and modern--without order, and
consequently, without grandeur; but if, on the contrary, we arrive at
the chapel by Chevet, the result is otherwise. The high "abside" of the
fourteenth century, in all its boldness and beauty, the rich workmanship
of its balustrades, the variety of its "gargouilles," the somber hue of
the stones, and the large transparent windows--strike the beholder with
admiration.

Here, nevertheless, the aspect of the church--imposing tho it is--will
be found far from uniform. Between the "abside" and the "portail," in a
kind of cavity, the dome of Otho III., built over the tomb of
Charlemagne in the tenth century, is hid from view. After a few moments'
contemplation, a singular awe comes over us when gazing at this
extraordinary edifice--an edifice which, like the great work that
Charlemagne began, remains unfinished; and which, like his empire that
spoke all languages, is composed of architecture that represents all
styles. To the reflective, there is a strange analogy between that
wonderful man and this great building.

After having passed the arched roof of the portico, and left behind me
the antique bro