hastily and carelessly were people interred in those days. After the cemetery of the Innocents had been cleared of its remains other burial-places were proceeded with; and though the work of transfer had not been finished when the Revolution broke out, which had the natural effect of interrupting it, some of the first victims of the great struggle were carried to the catacombs. The bones deposited in these subterranean vaults are arranged in an orderly and methodical style. There are no tombs in the catacombs, where the dead are absolutely on an equality. Here and there, however, the name of tomb has been fancifully given to some pillar or portion of a pillar which presented a monumental aspect. Thus the tomb of Gilbert, the unhappy poet, is pointed out, because, on the wall of the supposed sepulchre, someone has inscribed the well-known opening lines of his most celebrated poem, Au banquet de la vie, infortuné convive, J’apparus un jour et je meurs. Je meurs, et sur la tombe où lentement j’arrive Nul ne viendra verser des pleurs![C] [C] A literal prose translation reads somewhat baldly:--An unfortunate guest at life’s banquet I appeared for a day and now die; I die, and on the tomb to which I am slowly travelling none will come to shed a tear. At other points the walls of the catacombs have, by some peculiarity of construction or of natural form, suggested legendary ideas. One pillar is called that of the “Imitation”; and elsewhere the pedestal of Saint-Laurent may be seen. [Illustration: ENTRANCE TO THE OBSERVATORY.] Some forty or fifty years ago the catacombs were the object of daily visits, and the sight was one which every visitor to Paris felt called upon to see. Accidents, however, frequently took place; and at present no one enters the catacombs except at certain periods of the year, when the engineers have to make a formal report as to their condition. The ventilation is effected by means of numerous holes communicating with the upper air. The catacombs may be entered from various points. At the period of the daily visits, which were too often accompanied by accidents, the descent was made from the south, near the Luxemburg Gardens. The names of visitors are called over before they go down and again when they come up. The general aspect of the place is not so solemn as might be imagined. It suggests rather a vast wine-cellar in which the cases enclose bones instead of bottles. The relics of four million persons now repose there. This subterranean city contains streets and passages like the city above, and each thoroughfare, numbered as though it consisted of houses, corresponds closely enough to the street, with its numbers, of the metropolis overhead. The object of this carefully-planned correspondence is to be able, in case of accident, to furnish assistance as soon as possible at the spot indicated. [Illustration: THE GARDENS OF THE OBSERVATORY, BOULEVARD ARAGO.]