1791, Napoleon in 1814, Charles X. in 1828, later, General Moltke in
1870, who said upon that occasion,

"In three days, or a week at most, we shall be in Paris;" not counting
on the possibilities of a siege.

The room occupied by the unfortunate Louis XVI and his little son, still
bears the name of "La Chambre du Roi," and cannot be entered without
sadness. The gardens, designed by Le Notre, are magnificent and very
quaint, as quaint and characteristic, perhaps, as any of the same
period; a broad, open, sunny flower-garden below, above terraced walks
so shaded with closely-planted plane trees that the sun can hardly
penetrate them on this July day. These green walks, where the
nightingale and the oriole were singing, were otherwise as quiet as the
Eveche itself; but the acme of quiet and solitude was only to be found
in the avenue of yews, called Bossuet's Walk. Here it is said the great
orator used to pace backwards and forwards when composing his famous
discourses, like another celebrated French writer, Balzac, wholly
secluding himself from the world whilst thus occupied. A little
garden-house in which he ate and slept leads out of this delightful
walk, a cloister of greenery, the high square-cut walls of yew shutting
out everything but the sky. What would some of us give for such a
retreat as this! an ideal of perfect tranquillity and isolation from the
outer world that might have satisfied the soul of Schopenhauer himself.

But the good things of life are not equally divided. The present Bishop,
an octogenarian, who has long been quite blind, would perhaps prefer to
hear more echoes from without. It happened that in one party was a
little child of six, who, with the inquisitiveness of childhood,
followed the servant in-doors, whilst the rest waited at the door for