of the saint's footsteps, where, after his martyrdom, he walked along it,
with his head under his arm, in quest of a burial-place. This legend may
account for any crookedness of the street; for it could not reasonably be
asked of a headless man that he should walk straight.

Through some other indirections we at last found the Rue Bergere, down
which I went with J----- in quest of Hottinguer et Co., the bankers,
while the rest of us went along the Boulevards, towards the Church of the
Madeleine. . . . . This business accomplished, J----- and I threaded our
way back, and overtook the rest of the party, still a good distance from
the Madeleine. I know not why the Boulevards are called so. They are a
succession of broad walks through broad streets, and were much thronged
with people, most of whom appeared to be bent more on pleasure than
business. The sun, long before this, had come out brightly, and gave us
the first genial and comfortable sensations which we have had in Paris.

Approaching the Madeleine, we found it a most beautiful church, that
might have been adapted from Heathenism to Catholicism; for on each side
there is a range of magnificent pillars, unequalled, except by those of
the Parthenon. A mourning-coach, arrayed in black and silver, was drawn
up at the steps, and the front of the church was hung with black cloth,
which covered the whole entrance. However, seeing the people going in,
we entered along with them. Glorious and gorgeous is the Madeleine. The
entrance to the nave is beneath a most stately arch; and three arches of
equal height open from the nave to the side aisles; and at the end of the
nave is another great arch, rising, with a vaulted half-dome, over the
high altar. The pillars supporting these arches are Corinthian, with
richly sculptured capitals; and wherever gilding might adorn the church,
it is lavished like sunshine; and within the sweeps of the arches there
are fresco paintings of sacred subjects, and a beautiful picture covers