Into the breathing world, scarce half made up;
And that so lamely and unfashionably,
That dogs bark at me, as I halt by them."

History, enraged at the review of the insatiable crimes of Robespierre,
has already bestowed upon him a fanciful physiognomy, which she has
composed of features which rather correspond with the ferocity of his
soul, than with his real countenance. From the appearance of this bust,
which is an authentic remblance of him, his face must have been rather
handsome. His features were small, and his countenance must have
strongly expressed animation, penetration and subtlety. This bust is a
real curiosity. It is very likely that not another is now to be found,
Mons. le G---- is permitted to preserve it, without reproach on account
of his art. I can safely say, he does not retain it from any emotions of
veneration for the original. It is worthy of being placed between the
heads of Caligula and Nero. Very near the residence of Mons. le G---- is
the house in which Robespierre lodged. It is at the end of the Rue
Florentine, in the Rue St. Honore, at a wax chandler's. This man is too
much celebrated, not to render every thing which relates to him curious.
The front windows of his former lodgings look towards the Place de la
Concorde, on the right of which his prime minister, the permanent
guillotine, was quartered. Robespierre, who, like the revolting angel,
before the world's formation, appears to have preferred the sceptre of
Hell and chaos, to the allegiance of order and social happiness, will
descend to posterity with no common attributes of distinction and
preeminence. His mind was fully suited to its labours, which, in their
wide sphere of mischief, required more genius to direct them than was
bestowed upon the worst of the tyrants of Rome, and a spirit of evil
which, with its "broad circumference" of guilt, was calculated to darken
the disk of their less expanded enormity.

From Robespierre's lodgings, curiosity led me to visit the building in
which the jacobin club held their Pandemonium. It is a noble edifice,
and once belonged to the Order of Jacobins. Near this church stands the
beautiful fabric of the Corn Hall of Paris, designed by Monsieur le
Grand. The dome of the bank of England is in the same style, but
inferior, in point of lightness and elegance. That of the Corn Hall
resembles a vast concavity of glass. In this noble building the millers
deposit their corn for sale. Its deep