as a Temple of Glory. The Restoration
transformed it to a Catholic church, which was finally completed under
Louis Philippe in 1842, and it soon became the most fashionable place
of worship in Paris. Napoleon drove sixty new streets through the
city, cleared away the posts that marked off the footways, began the
raised pavements and kerbs, and ordered the drainage to be diverted
from the gutters in the centre of the roadway.

The Restoration erected two basilicas--Notre Dame de Lorette and St.
Vincent de Paul. The Expiatory Chapel raised to the memory of Louis
XVI. and Marie Antoinette on the site of the old cemetery of the
Madeleine--where they lay, until transferred to St. Denis, in one red
burial with the brave Swiss Guards who vainly spent their lives for
them--is now threatened with demolition. Three new bridges--of the
Invalides, the Archeveche and Arcole--were added, and fifty-five new
streets.

Under the citizen king, Napoleon's Arch of Triumph of the Etoile was
completed, and the Columns of Luxor, on the Place de la Concorde, and
of July on the Place de la Bastille, were raised. It was the period of
the admirable architectural restorations of Viollet le Duc. The great
architect has described how his passion for Gothic was stirred when,
taken as a boy to Notre Dame, the rose window of the south transept
seized on his imagination. While gazing at it the organ began to play,
and he thought that the music came from the window--the shrill, high
notes from the light colours, the solemn, bass notes from the dark and
more subdued hues. It was a reverent and admiring spirit such as this
which inspired the famous architect's loving treatment of the Gothic
restoration in Paris and all over France. To him more than to any
other artist we owe the preservation of such masterpieces as Notre
Dame and the Sainte Chapelle.

But the great changes which have made modern Paris were effected under
the Second Empire. In 1854, when the Haussmannisation of the city
began, the Paris of the First Empire and of the Restoration remained
essentially unaltered. It was a city of a few grand streets and of
many mean ones. Pavements were still rare, and drainage was imperfect.
In a few years the whole aspect was changed. Twenty-two new boulevards
and avenues were created. Streets of appalling uniformity and
directness were ploughed through Paris in all directions. "Nothing is
more brutal than a straight line," says Victor Hugo, and there is