h a thousand of such markets, and Pere la Chaise is an admirable
substitute for the Cemetery of the Innocents.

High up in the Rue de Faubourg St Denis, which is only a continuation
of the main street, just as Knightsbridge is of Piccadilly, stand the
remains of the great convent and _maladrerie_ of St Lazarus. In this
religious house, all persons attacked with leprosy were received in
former days, and either kept for life, if incurable, or else
maintained until they were freed from that loathsome disease. From
what cause we know not, (except that the House of St Lazarus was the
nearest of any religious establishment to the walls of the capital,)
the kings of France always made a stay of three days within its walls
on their solemn inauguratory entrance into Paris, and their bodies
always lay in state here before they were conveyed to the Abbey Church
of St Denis. There was no lack of stiff ceremonial on these occasions;
and, doubtless, the good fathers of the convent did not receive all
the court within their walls without rubbing a little gold off the
rich habits of the nobles. The king, on arriving at the Convent of St
Lazare, proceeded to a part of the house allotted for this purpose,
and called _Le Logis du Roy_, where, in a chamber of state, he took
his seat beneath a canopy, surrounded by the princes of the
blood-royal. The chancellor of France stood behind his majesty, to
furnish him with replies to the different deputations that used to
come with congratulatory addresses, and the receptions then commenced.
They used to last from seven in the morning, without intermission,
till four or five in the afternoon; there were the lawyers of the
Chastelet, the Court of Aids, the Court of Accounts, and the
Parliament, to say nothing of the city authorities and other
constituted bodies. The addresses were no short unmeaning things, like
those uttered in our poor cold times, but good long-winded harangues,
some in French, some in Latin, and they went on, one after the other,
for three days consecutively. On the third day, when the royal
patience must have been wellnigh exhausted, and the chancellor's
talents at reply worn tolerably threadbare, the king would rise, and
mounting on horseback, would proceed to the cathedral church of Notre
Dame, down the Rue St Denis. One of the best recorded of these royal
entries is that of Louis XI. On this occasion, the king, setting out
from a suburban residence in the Faubourg St Honore,