The palace to which this hall is attached is the Palace Bourbon, formerly the Parisian residence of the Prince de Condé. It is situate on the other side of the Seine, opposite to the place once Place Louis XV., now Place de la Concorde, on the middle of which the unfortunate monarch of France and innumerable numbers of his former subjects were put to death. The beautiful bridge, Pont de la Concorde, which leads to the palace, and the triumphant portal between two noble pavilions, to which it is connected by a double row of lofty columns of the Corinthian order, add to the splendour of its appearance. We must _not_ forget while admiring so many noble specimens of architecture that not _one_ of them is the work of the genius of Republican France; on the contrary, they were raised and embellished by the liberality of Princes, whose descendants an ungrateful people have driven into exile. The only pieces of architecture produced by the Republic are several wooden houses erected upon barges on the river for shows and bagnios where the lascivious and polluted may at any hour of the day or night regale themselves with girls, liqueurs, coffee, dainties of all kinds and hot and cold baths. [Sidenote: CRIMINAL COURT] In the interior of the _Palais du Corps Législatif_ there are several halls dedicated to peace and victory, and to those funny divinities, Liberty, Equality, and Fraternity. I will now describe the _Palais de Justice_. This is another magnificent edifice. It is enclosed within a gate 120 feet in length, which forms the boundary of a large area. The façade presents a very dignified appearance, at the middle of which, after ascending a flight of steps, the people enter through a vast opening. Among the different courts there is one which can never fail to attract a foreigner--the hall where the Revolutionary Tribunal assembled to murder innocents by wholesale. It is now called the Chamber of the Court of Appeal, and is completely altered since I last saw it in 1793, when a set of drunken cannibals, selected from the filthiest styes of the Metropolis, with red caps upon their heads, made human nature tremble, inundated France with blood, and caused every honest man to envy the days of Nero and Caracalla. The person who was with me gave me a very minute account of the trials of the Queen and Princess Elizabeth, where they were stationed, and how calm and dignified was their behaviour. In the Criminal Court four young men were being tried for their lives. The room, the seats of the judges, advocates, jury and spectators, made me think I was in one of the circuit courts of our own country. Every person was uncovered. The judge politely invited us to sit within the tribunal, so we saw and heard all that passed distinctly.