truly magnificent building, both architecturally
considered and in its interior arrangements. The council chamber is very
fine, and here are some admirable portraits and the best statue of
Napoleon that is extant. The dome is very grand, but is at present
invisible, on account of the alterations going on to complete the tomb
of Napoleon. This will be the grandest tomb, probably, in the world. The
sarcophagus is to rest on a platform, to which the access is by steps of
green marble.

[Illustration: Sarcophagus at Napoleon's Tomb, and Key]

Here is a good library and some MSS. of the two prime ministers, Sully
and Colbert; a good picture of Napoleon and Louis Philippe; the cannon
ball which killed Marshal Turenne, and his equestrian statue in gold and
silver.

My favorite stroll here is in the Garden of the Tuileries. I am never
weary of this place. Here are the finest flowers, the best walks, the
gayest company, the prettiest children, and the densest shade, if you
please to go into it, in Paris. Then, too, there are groups of statuary,
and fountains with lofty jet, and proud swans in the reservoirs. I
would like to have you walking in that thick forest growth; there is no
underbrush; I can see from one side to the other. After a long walk, you
come to the noble portals, guarded by lions couchant, and just beyond is
the spot where Louis XVI. was guillotined. I do not believe there is a
nobler view in Europe than now opens to the spectator. There before me
is the Obelisk of Luxor, which was brought from Egypt, and now stands in
the Place de la Concorde, its history, its removal, its present
position, all serve to delight me. In itself it is a noble object, and
my eye ever rests on it with pleasure.

Just think, Charley, that you are at my side: turn round, and look at
the gardens we have left. There, see the long, low Tuileries, the palace
of the Bourbons, the home of Napoleon, the residence of the citizen
king, and now the Palace National. Off to the right is the Seine and its
long line of quays; here is the bridge; and just across it is the
Chamber of the Assembly, with twelve Corinthian columns, I like this
building exceedingly. To our left is a long, stately range, known as the
Rue Rivoli, in which we reside; it has an arched arcade in front; for
foot passengers, and some hundreds of columns to support and adorn it.
At this end of it are public offices. Now turn and look at our left; and
see, a street cuts through