It was on April 1, in the midst of fêtes, that the Universal Exhibition of 1867 was opened with triumphal splendour. The Empire's great 'season' was beginning, that supreme¹ gala season which was to turn Paris into the hostelry of the entire world—a hostelry gay with bunting, song, and music, where there was feasting and love-making in every room. Never had a régime at the zenith of its power convoked² the nations to such a colossal³ spree. From the four corners of the earth a long procession of emperors, kings, and princes started on the march towards the Tuileries, which were all ablaze⁴ like some palace in the crowning scene of an extravaganza.

And it was at this same period, a fortnight after the Exhibition opened, that Saccard inaugurated the monumental pile in which he had insisted upon lodging⁵ the Universal. Six months had sufficed to erect⁶ it; workmen had toiled⁷ day and night without losing an hour, performing a miracle which is only possible in Paris; and a superb fa?ade was now displayed, rich in flowery ornamentation, suggestive in some respects of a temple, in others of a music hall—a fa?ade of such a luxurious⁹ aspect that passers-by stopped short in groups to gaze upon it. And within all was sumptuous¹⁰; the millions in the coffers seemed to have streamed along the walls. A grand staircase led to the board-room, which was all purple and gold, as splendid as the auditorium¹¹ of an opera house. On every side you found carpets and hangings, offices fitted up with a dazzling wealth of furniture. Fastened in the walls of the basement, where the share offices were[Pg 238] installed, were huge safes, with deep oven-like mouths, and