/ m PARIS AS IT WAS and AS IT IS; OR 3 gfeic!) of tije jfrencf) Capital ILLUSTRATIVE OF THE EFFECTS OF THE REVOLUTION, WITH RESPECT TO SCIENCES, LITERATURE, ARTS, RELIGION, EDUCATION, MANNERS, AND AMUSEMENTS', COMPRISING ALSO A correct Account of the most remarkable National Establishments and Public Buildings. %n a £eric£ of flctter& WRITTEN BY AN ENGLISH TRAVELLER, DURING THE YEARS 1801-2, TO A FRIEND IN LONDON. Ipsa varietate tentamus efficere, ut alia aliis, quaedem fortasse omnibus placeant. Plin. Epist. VOL. I. LONDON: PRINTED BY AND FOR C. AND R. BALDWIN, NEW BRIDGE- STREET, BLACKFRIARS. 1803. ADVERTISEMENT, IN the course of the following production, the Reader will meet with several references to a Plan of Paris, which it had heen intended to prefix to the. work; hit that intention having been frustrated by the rupture between the two countries, in consequence of which the copies for the whole of the Edition have been detained at Calais, it is hoped that this apology will be eic-> eepted for the omission. Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2014 https://archive.org/details/parisasitwasasit01blag CONTENTS. VOLUME FIRST. Neiv Organization of the National Institute . . . .Page i Introduction vii LETTER I. Page 1 On the ratification of the preliminary treaty of peace, the author leaves London for Paris — He arrives at Calais on the 1 6th of October, 1801 — Apparent effect of the peace — After having obtained a passport, he proceeds to Paris, in company with a French naval officer. LETTER II. 5 Journey from Calais to Paris — Improved state of agri- culture — None of the French gun-boats off Boulogne moored with chains at the time of the attack — St. Denis — General sweep made, in 1 7Q3, among the sepultures in that abbey — Arrival at Paris — Turnpikes now established throughout France — Custom-house scrutiny. LETTER III. 13 Objects which first stke the observer on arriving at Paris after an absence of ten or twelve years — Tumult in the streets considerably diminished since the revolution — No liveries seen — Streets less dangerous than formerly to pedestrians— Visits paid to different persons by the au- thor — Price of lodgings nearly double d since 17 89 — The author takes apartments in a private house. a CONTENTS. LETTER IV. Page 21 Climate of Paris — Thermolampes or stoves which af- ford light and heat on an economical plan- -Sword whose hilt was adorned with the Pitt diamond, and others of considerable value, presented to the Chief Consul. LETTER V. 27 Plan on which these letters are written. LETTER VI. 29 The Louvre or National Palace of Arts and Sciences described — Old Louvre — Horrors of St. Bartholomew's day — From this palace Charles IX fired on his own subjects — Additions successively made to it by different kings — Bernini, sent for by Lewis XIV, forwarded the foundation of the New Louvre, and returned to Italy — Perrault produced the beautiful colonnade of the Louvre, the master-piece of French architecture — Anec- dote of the Queen of England, relict of Charles I — Public exhibition of the productions of French Industry * LETTER VII. 4! Central Museum of the Arts — Gallery of Antiques — * Description of the different halls and of the most remarkable statues contained in them, with original observations by the learned connoisseur^ Visconti* \ LETTER VIII. 55 Description of the Gallery of Antiques and of its chefs- d'oeuvre of sculpture continued and terminated— Noble example set by the French in throwing open their museums and national establishments to public inspec- tion — Liberal indulgence shewn to foreigners. CONTENTS. LETTER IX. Page 70^ General A ~y's breakfast — Montmartre — Prospect thence enjoyed — Theatres. LETTER X. 78 Regulations of the Police to le olserved ly a stranger on his arrival in the French capital — Pieces repre- sented at the Theatre Louvois— Palais du gouvernement or Palace of the Tuileries described — It was constructed ly Catherine de Medicis, enlarged ly Henry IV and "Lewis XIII, and finished ly Lewis XIV— The tenth of August^ 1 f 92; as pourtrayed ly an actor in that me- moralle scene—*Numler of lives lost on the occasion — Sale of the furniture, the king's wardrobe y and other effects found in tJw palace— Place du Carrousel— Fz~ mons horses of gilt bronze brought from Venice and placed here — The fate of France suspended by a thread — Fall of Robespiere and his adherents. LETTER XI. 95 Massacre of the prisoners at Paris in September, 1792 — Private ball — The French much improved in dancing - — The waltz described — Dress of the women. LETTER XII. 107 Bonaparte — Grand monthly parade- — Agility of the First Consul in mounting his charger— Consular guards, a remarkably fine body of men— Horses of the French cavalry, sorry in appearance, but capable of enduring fatigue and privations. LETTER XIII. 114 Jardin des Tiuleries— Tfe garden now kept in letter a 2 CONTENTS* order than under the monarchy — The newly -luilt house (fY&vy, the restaurateur — This quarter calls to mind the most remarkable events in the history of the re- volution — Place de la Concorde — Its name is a strong contrast to the great number of victims here sacri- ficed — Execution of the King and Queen, Philippe Lgalite, Charlotte Corday, Madame Roland, Robes- piere, cum multus aliis — Unexampled dispatch intro- duced in putting persons to death by means of the guil- lotine — Guillotin, the inventor or improver of this instrument, dies of grief — Little impression left on the mind of the spectators of these sanguinary scenes —Lord Cornwall is arrives in Paris. LETTER XIV. Page 129 National fete, in honour of peace, celebrated in Paris on the \8th of Brumaire, year >X f9th of Novem- ber, — Garnerin and his wife ascend in a bal- loon—Brilliancy of the illuminations — Laughable ac- cident. LETTER XV. 13& Description of the fete continued — Apparent apathy of the people — Songs composed in commemoration of this joyful event— Imitation of one of them. LETTER XV r. 148 Gallery of the Louvre— Saloon of the Louvre — Italian School— The 7nost remarkdble pictures in the collection mentioned, with original remarks on the masters by Visconti— Lord Cornwall's reception in Paris. LETTER XVIT. 165 Gallery of the Lauvre in continuation — French School— CONTENTS. Flemish School — The pictures in the Saloon are seefi to much greater advantage than those in the Gallery- — Gallery of Apollo — These superb repositories of the finest works of art are indiscriminately open to the public. LETTER XVIII. Page 184 Palais Royal j now called Palais da Tribunat — Its con- struction begun, in 1629> by Cardinal Richelieu, who makes a present of it to Lewis XIII — It becomes the property of the Orleans family — Anecdote of the Re- gent — Considerable alterations made in this palace — Jardin du Palais du Tribunat — This garden is surrounded by a range of handsome buildings, erected in J 782 by the duke of Orleans, then duke of Chartres — The Cirque burnt down in 1797 — Contrast between the company seen here in 1 769 and in 1801 — The Pa- lais Royal, the theatre of political commotions — Mu- tual enmity of the queen and the duke of Orleans, which, in the sequel, brought these great personages to the scaffold — Their improper example imitated by the nobility of both sexes — The projects of each defeated — The duke's pusillanimity was a bar to his ambition — He exhausted his immense fortune to gain partisans, and secure the attachment of the people — His impri- sonment^ trial, and death. LETTER XIX. 199 The Palais du Tribunal an epitome of all the trades in Paris — Prohibited publications — Mock auctions — Magazins de confiance a prix fixe — Two speculations, of a somewhat curious nature, established there with success — The Palais Royal, a vortex of dissipation — CONTENTS. Scheme of Merlin of Douay for cleansing this Au- gcean stable. LETTER XX. Page 21Q The, a sort of route — Contrast in the mode of life of the Parisians before and since the revolution — Petits soupers described — An Englishman improves on all the French bons vivans under the old regime. LETTER XXI. 217 Public places of various descriptions-— Their title and number — Contrast between the interior police noiu esta- blished in the theatres in Paris, and that which ex- isted before the revolution — Admirable regulations at present adopted for the preservation of order at the door of the theatres — Comparatively small number of carriages now seen in waiting at the grand French opera. LETTER XXII. 235 Palais du Corps Legislatif — Description of the hall of the sittings of that body — Opening of the session — Speech of the President — Lord Cornwallis and suite present at this sitting — Petits appartemens of the ci-devant Palais Bourbon described. LETTER XXIII. 247 Halle au Ble — Lightness of the roof of the dome — An- nual consumption of bread- corn in Paris — Astrologers — In former times, their number in Paris exceeded 30,000 — Fortune-tellers of the present day — Church of St. Eustache — Tourville, the brave opponent of Ad- miral Russeh had no epitaph — Festivals of reason de- scribed. CONTENTS. LETTER XXIV. Page 259 Museum of French Monuments— Steps taken by the Constituent Assembly to arrest the progress of Van- dalism—Many master -pieces of painting, sculpture, and architecture, destroyed in various parts of France — Gregoire, ex-bishop of Blois, publishes three re- ports, to expose the madness of irreligious barbarism, which claim particular distinction. — They saved from destruction many articles of value in the provinces — Antique monuments found in in digging among the foundation of the ancient church of Paris— Inde- fatigable exertions of Lenoir, the conservator of this museum — The halls of this museum fitted up accord- ing to the precise character pecidiar to each century, and the monuments arranged in them in historical and chronological order — Tombs of Clovis, Childebert, and Chilperic — Statues of Charlemagne, Lewis IX, and of Charles, his brother, together with those of the kings that successively appeared in this age doivn to king John — Tombs of Charles V, Du Guesclin, and Sancerre — Mausolea of Louis d 'Orleans and of Va- lentine de Milan — Statues of Charles VI, Renee d'Orleans, Philippe de Commines, Lewis XI, Charles VII, Joan of Arc, Isabeau de Baviere — Tomb of Lewis XII — Tragical death of Charles the Bad. LETTER XXV. 274 Museum of French Monuments continued — Tombs of Francis I, of the Valois, and of Diane de Poitiers — Character of that celebrated woman — Statues of Turenne, Conde, Colbert^ La Fontaine^ Racine, and CONTENTS. Lewis XIV — Mausolea of Cardinals Richelieu and Mazarin — Statues of Montesquieu, Fontenelle, Voltaire, Rousseau, Helvetius, Crebillon, and Piron — Tombs of Maupertuis, Caylus, and Marshal d'Harcourt — This museum contains a chronology of monuments, loth an- tique and modern, from 2500 years before our era down to the present time, beginning with those of ancient Greece, and following all the gradations of the art from its cradle to its decrepitude — Sepulchre of He- loi'se and Abelard. LETTER XXVI. Page 287 Dinner at General A y's — Difference in the du- ration of such a repast now and before the revolution — The General's ancestor, Francois A ~y, plan- ned and completed the famous canal of Languedoc — Depot de la guerre — Such an establishment much wanted in England — Its acknowledged utility has in- duced Austria, Spain, and Portugal, to form otliers of a similar nature — Geographical and topographical riches of this depot. LETTER XXVII. 304 Boulevards — Their extent — Amusements they present — Porte St. Denis— Anecdote of Charles VI— Porte St. Martin — La Magdeleine— Ambulating conjurers- Means they employ to captivate curiosity. LETTER XXVIII. 315 French funds and national debt — Supposed liquidation of an annuity held by a foreigner before the war, and yet unliquidated— Value of a franc. CONTENTS, LETTER XXIX. Page 327 Grand monthly parade — Etiquette observed on this oc- casion, in the apartments of the palace of the Tuile- ries— Bonaparte — His person— His public character in Paris — Obstruction which the First Consul met with in returning from the parade — Champs Elysses --Jporfo and diversions there practised- — Horses, brought from Marly to this spot, the master -pieces of the two cele- brated sculptors^ Costou — Comparison they afford to politicians. LETTER XXX. 342 Madonna de Foligno — Description of the method em- ployed by the French artists to transfer from pannel t* canvass this celebrated master -piece of Raphael. LETTER XXXI. 355 Pont Neuf — Henry IV— His popularity — Historical fact concerning the cause of his assassination brought to light — The Seine swollen by the rains — It presents a dull scene in comparison to the Thames — Great num- ber of washerwomen — La Samaritaine — Shoe-blacks on the Pont Neuf — Their trade decreased — Recruiting Of- ficers- — The allurem£nts they formerly employed are now become unnecessary in consequence of the conscription — Anecdote of a British officer on whom a French recruiter had cast his eye — Disappointment that ensued. LETTER XXXII. 369 Balls now very numerous every evening in Paris — Bal du Salon des Etrangers — Description of the women — Com- parison between the French and English ladies— Cha- racter of Madame Tallieix — Generosity, fortitude, and CONTENTS. greatness of soul displayed ly women during the most calamitous periods of the revolution — Anecdote of a young Frenchman smitten ly a widow — An attach- ment, founded on somewhat similar circumstances, re- corded ly historians of Henry III of France — Sym- pathy, and its effects. LETTER XXXIII. Page 388 Pont National^ formerly called the Pont Royal— Anec- dote of Henry IV and a waterman— Coup d'ceil from this Iridge — Quays of Paris — Galiot of St. Cloud— Pont de la Concorde — Paris lesieged ly the Swedes, Danes, and Normans, in 885 — The Seine covered with their vessels for the space of two leagues — A vessel ascends the Seine from Rouen to Paris in four days —Engineers have ever judged it practicable to render the Seine navigable, from its mouth to the capital, for vessels of a certain burden — Riches accruing from commerce pave the way to the ruin of States, as well as the extension of their conquests* LETTER XXXIV- 391 French literature — Effects produced on it ly the revo- lution — The sciences preferred to literature, and for what reason — The French government has flattered the literati and artists', but the solid distinctions have been reserved for men of science — Epic Poetry — Tragedy — Comedy— Novels — Moral Fable — Madrigal and Epi- gram — Romance — Lyric Poetry — Song — Journals. LETTER XXXV. 408 Pont au Change — Palais de Justice — Once a royal resi- dence — 'Banquet given there, in 1313, ly Philip the CONTENTS. Fair, at which were present Edward Hani his queen Isabella — Alterations which this palace has undergone, in consequence of having, at different times, been partly reduced to ashes — Madame La Motte publicly whipped — In 1788, Lewis XVI here held a famous bed of justice, in which D'Espresmenil struck the first blow at royalty — He was exiled to the He de St. Margue- rite — After having stirred up all the parliaments against the royal authority, he again became the humble servant pf the crown — After the revolution, the Palais de Jus- tice was the seat of the Revolutionary Tribunal — Dumas, its president, proposed to assemble there Jive or six hundred victims at a time — He was the next day con- demned to death by the same tribunal — The Palais de Justice, now the seat of different tribunals — The grande chambre newly embellished in the antique style — La Conciergerie, the place of confinement of Lavoisier, Malsherbes, Cordorcet, &c. — Fortitude displayed by the hapless Marie- Antoinette after her condemnation —Pont St. Michel — Pont Notre-Dame — Cathedral of Notre-Dame — Anecdote of Pepin the Short — Devas- tations committed in this cathedral — Medallions of Ahelard and Heloise to be seen near Notre-Dame in front of the house where Fulbert. her supposed uncle, resided— -Petit Pont — Pont au Double — Pont Marie — Workmen now employed in the construction of three new bridges — Pont de la Tournelle. LETTER XXXVI. Page 429 Paris a charming abode for a man of fortune — Sum- mary of its advantages — Idalium — Tivoli — Frascati — Paphos — La Phantasmagoric o/'Robertson — Fitzjames, the famous ventriloquist—Method of converting a ga~ CONTENTS. lantee-show into mi exhibition somewhat similar to that of the phantasmagcrrists. LETTER XXXVII. Page 437 Paris the most melancholy abode in the world for a man without money — Restaurateurs — In 1765, Boulanger first conceived the idea of restoring the exhausted ani- mal functions of the debilitated Parisians — Pie found many imitators— The restaurateurs, in order to make their business answer, constitute themselves traiteurs — La Barriere— Beauvilliers, Robert, Naudet, and Very dispute the palm in the art of Appicius— Description of Beauvilliers' establishment — His bill of fare— Ex- pense of dining at a fashionable restaurateur's in Pa- ris — Contrast between establishments of this kind ex- isting before the revolution, and those in vogue at the present day — Cheap eating-houses — The company now met with at the fashionable rendezvous of good cheer compared with that seen here in former tiines— Cabinets particuliers — Uses to which they are applied — Advan- tages of a restaurateur's — Beauvilliers pays great atten-. tion to his guests — Cleanly and alert waiters — This es- tablishment is admirably well managed* CONTENTS. jLUME second. LETTER XXXVIII. Page 1 National Institution of the Deaf and Dumb — France in- dehted to the philanthropic Abbe de l'Epee for the discovery of the mode of instructing them — It has been greatly improved by Sicard^ the present Institutor — Explanation of his system of instruction — The deaf and dumb are taught grammar, metaphysics, logic, re- ligion, the use of the globes, geography, arithmetic, history, natural history, arts and trades — Almost every thing used by them is made by themselves — Lessom of analysis which astonish the spectators. LETTER XXXIX. 12 Public women — Charlemagne endeavours to banish them from Paris — His daughters, though addicted to illicit enjoyments, die universally regretted — Les Filles Dieu — Les Filles penitentes ou repenties — Courtesans — Luxury displayed in their equipages and houses — Kept tuomen — Opera-dancers — Secret police maintained ly Lewis XVI, in 1792 — Grisettes — Demireps — A French woman, at thirty , makes an excellent friend — Rousseau's opinion of this particidar class of women in Paris. LETTER XL. National Institution of the Industrious Blind — Circum- stance which gave rise to this establishment — Valen- tin Haiiy, its founder, found his project seconded Lj CONTENTS. the Philanthropic Society — His plan of instruction de- tailed — Museum of the Blind — After two or three lessons, a hlind child here teaches himself to read without the further help of any master. LETTER XLL Page 47 Theatre des Arts et de la Republique^ or Grand French opera — Old opera-house lurnt down, and a new one built and opened in 7 L 2 days — Description of the pre- sent house — Operas of Gluck; also those of Piccini and Sacchini — Gluckists and Piccinists — The singing is the weakest department at the French opera — Merits of the singers of loth sexes — Choruses very full — Orches- tra famous — The Chief Consul, leing very partial to Ita- lian music, sends to that land of harmony to procure the finest musical compositions. LETTER XLII. 64 Dancing improved in France — Effect of some of the ballets — Noverre and Gardel first introduce them on the French stage — Rapid change of scenery — Ments of the dancers of loth sexes — The rector of St. Roch refuses to admit into that church the corpse of Mademoiselle Chameroi— The dancers in private society now emulate those who make dancing their profession — Receipts of the opera. LETTER XLIIL 79 New year's day still celebrated in Paris on the 1st of January — Customs which prevail there on that occasion — Denon's account of the French expedition to Egypt —That country was the cradle of the arts and sciences — Fourrier confirms the theory of Dupuis^ respecting the origin, &c. of the figures of the Zodiac. CONTENTS. LETTER XLIV. Page 85 Hotel des Invalides— It was projected by Henry IV and erected by Lewis XIV — Temple of Mars — To its arches are suspended the standards and colours taken from the enemy — Two British fags only are among th num- ber — Monument of Turenne — Circmnstances of his death — Dome of the Invalides — Its refectories and kitchens — Anecdote of Peter the Great — Refections on establish- ments of this description — Champ de Mars — Ecole Mi- litaire — Various scenes of which the Champ de Mars has been the theatre — Death of Bailly — Modem national fetes in France, a humble imitation of the Olympic games. LETTER XLV. 102 Object of the different learned and scientific institutions, which, before the revolution, held their sittings in the Louvre — Anecdote of Cardinal Richelieu — National In- stitute of Arts and Sciences — Organization of that learned body — Description of the apartments of the Institute — Account of its public quarterly meeting of the \5tk Nivose, year X, ( 5th of January , 1802 J — Marriage of Mademoiselle Beauharnois to Louis Bonaparte. LETTER XLVL IU Opera Buffa — The Italian comedians who came to Paris in 1788, had a rapid influence on the musical taste of the French public— *>Per formers of the neiv Italian com- pany — Productions of Cimarosa, Paesiello, &c. — Ma- dame Bolla. LETTER XLVII. 119 Present state of public worship' — Summary of the pro- ceedings of the constitutional clergy— National councils 3 r CONTENTS* df the Gallican church held at Paris — Conduct of the Pope, Pius VII — The Cardinal Legate, Caprara, arrives in Paris — The Concordat is signed — Subsequent trans» actions. LETTER XLVIII. Page J 34 Pantheon — Description of this edifice — Marat and Mirabeau pantheonized and dispantheonized — The remains of Vol* taire and Rousseau removed hither — The Pantheon in danger of falling — This apprehension no longer exists— Bonaparte leaves Paris for Lyons. LETTER XLIX. 142 Scientific societies of Paris — Societe Philotechnique — Societe Libre des Sciences, Lettres, et Arts — Athenee des Arts — Societe Philomatique — Societe Academique des Sciences — Societe Galvanique — Societe des Belles- Lettres — Academie de Legislation — Observateurs de l'Homme — Athenee de Paris. LETTER L. 153 Coffee-houses — Character of the company zvho frequent them — Contrast between the coffee-houses of the present and former times — Coffee first introduced at Paris, in 1669, by the Turkish ambassador — Cafe mechanique — . Subterraneous coffee-houses of the Palais du Tribunal LETTER LL 16a Public instruction — The ancient colleges and universities are replaced by Primary Schools, Secondary Schools, Lyceums, and Special Schools. — National pupils — Annual cost of these establishments — Contrast betiveen the old system of education and the new plan, recently orga* nized. CONTENTS. LETTER LII. Page 179 Milliners — Montesquieu's observation on the co?n?nands of the fair sex — Millinery^a very extensive branch of trade in Paris — -Bal de l'Opera — Dress of the men and wo- men — Adventures are the chief object of those who fre- quent these masquerades* LETTER LIIL 185 Theatre Francais de la Republique— The house described —List of the stock-pieces — Names of their authors — » Fabre d'Eglantine — His Philinte de Moliere a chef- d'oeuvre — -Some account of its author — La Chaussee the father of the drame, a tragi-comic species of dra* matic composition. LETTER LIV. 19» Principal performers in tragedy at the Theatre Francais — Vanhove, Monvel, St. Prix, and Naudet — -Talma* and Lafond — St. Falj Damas, and Dupont — Mesdames Rau- court and Vestris — Mesdames Fleury, Talma, Bour- t goin 5 and Volnais — Mesdames Suin and Thenard— Debut of Mademoiselle Duchesnois, Madame Xavier, and Mademoiselle Georges — Disorderly conduct of the Duchesnistes, who are routed by the Georgistes. LETTER LV. 223 Principal performers in comedy at the Theatre Francais — -Vanhove, and Naudet — -Mole^ Fleury, and Baptiste the elder — St. Fal, Dupont, Damas, <2??^Armand — Grand- menilj and Caumont— Dugazon, Dazincourt, and Laro- chelle-— -Mes demoiselles Contat^ and Mezeray — Madame Talma — Mesdemoiselles Mars, Bourgoin, and Gros— Mes demoiselles Lachassaigne and Thenard — Mesdemoi- vol. i, b CONTENTS. selies Devienne and Desbrosses — Contrast between the state of the French stage before and since the revolu- tion. LETTER LVI. Page 247 French women fond of appearing in male attire — Costume of the French Ladies — Contrast it now presents to that formerly worn — The change in their dress has tended to strengthen their constitution — The women in Paris extremely cleanly in their persons — Are now very healthy. LETTER LVII. 251 The studies in the colleges and universities interrupted by bands of insurgents — College de France — -It is in this country the only establishment where every branch of human knowledge is taught in its fullest extent — Was founded by Francis I— Disputes between this new Col- lege and the University — Its increasing progress — The improvements in the sciences spread by the instruction of this College — Its present state. LETTER LVIli. 262 Theatre de TOpera Comique — Authors who have fur- nished it with stock-pieces, and composers who have set them to music — Principal performers at this thea- tre — Elleviou, Gavaudan, Philippe, and Gaveaux — Chenard, Martin, Rezicourt, Juliet, and Moreau — Solie, and St. Aubin — Dozainville^ and Xesage — Mes- dames St. Aubin, Scio, Lesage, Cretu, Philis the elder, Gavaudan, and Pingenet — Mesdames Dugazon, Philippe, and Gonthier. LETTER LIX. 276 France owes her salvation to the savans or men of science CONTENTS. —Polytechnic School — Its object — Its formation and subsequent progress — Changes recently introduced into this interesting establishment. LETTER LX. Page 2S5 Pickpockets and sharpers — Anecdote of a female swind- ler — Anecdote of a sharper — Housebreakers — Chauf- feurs — A new species of assassins — Place de Greve — Punishment for thieves re-established — On the con- tinent, ladies flock to the execution of criminals. LETTER LXI. 293 Schools for Public Services — The Polytechnic School, the grand nursery whence the pupils are transplanted into the Schools of Artillery, Military Engineers, Bridges and Highways, Mines, Naval Engineers, and Navi- gation — Account of these schools — Prytanee Francais — Special Schools — Special School of Painting and Sculp- ture — Competitions — National School of Architecture— Conservatory of Music — Present state of Music in France— Music has done Wonders in reviving the courage of the French soldiers — The French are no less indebted to Rouget de Lille, author of the Marseillois, than the Spartans were to Tyrtseus — Gratuitous School for Drawing — Veterinary School-— New Special Schools to be established in France. LETTER LXIL 317 Funerals — No medium in them under the old regime— Ceremjonies formerly observed — Those practised at the present day — Marriages — Contrast they present. LETTER LXTIL 324 Public Librarips — Bibliotheque National : — Its acqum* b 2 CONTENTS. iions since the revolution — School for Oriental Living Languages* LETTER LXIV. 33» Bibliotheque Mazarine— Bibliotheque du Pantheon — Bibliotheque de P Arsenal — The Arsenal— Other li- Iraries and literary depots in Paris. LETTER LXV. 343 Dancing — Nomenclature of caperers in Paris, from the wealthiest classes down to the poorest — Beggars form the last link of the chain. LETTER LXVI. 34S Bureau des Longitudes — Is on a more extensive scale than the Board of Longitude in England — National Observatory — Subterraneous quarries that have furnished the stone with which most of the houses in Paris are con- structed—Measures taken to prevent the buildings in Pa- ris from being swallowed up in these extensive labyrinths — Present state of the Observatory — Lalande, Me chain, and Bouvard — -Carroche, and Lenoir — Lavoisier, and Borda — Delambre, Laplace, Burckhardt, Vidal, Biot, and Puisson — New French weights and measures — Concise account of the operations employed in mea- suring an arc of the terrestrial meridian — Table of the new French measures and weights — Their corres- pondence with the old, and also with those of Eng- land. LETTER LXVII. 364 Depot de la Marine — An establishment much wanted in England. CONTENTS. LETTER LXVIII. \ Page 366 Theatre Louvois — Picard, the manager of this theatre, is the Moliere of his company — La Grande Viile^ ou les Provinciaux a Paris— Principal performers at this theatre — Picard, Devigny, Dorsau, and Clozel — Mesdemoiselles Adeline, Moliere^ Le cot, and Madame Mole — Theatre da Vaudeville— Authors who write for this theatre — Principal performers — Public malignity, the main support of this theatre, LETTER LXIX. 376 Hotel de la Monnaie — Description of this building— ~ Musee des Mines — Formed by M. Sage — The ar- rangement of this cabinet is excellent — Cabinet du Conseil des Mines — Principal mineral substances dis- covered in France since the revolution. LETTER LXX. 390 Theatre Montansier — Principal performers — Ambigu Co- mique — The curiosity of a stranger may be satisfied in a single visit to each of the minor theatres in Paris. LETTER LXXL 394 Police of Paris — Historical sketch of it — Its perfections and imperfections — Anecdote of a minister of police — Mouchards — Anecdote which sheivs the detestation in which they are held — The Parisian police extends to foreign countries — This truth exemplified by two remarkable facts — No habeas corpus in France. LETTER LXXIL 422 The savans saved Fra?ice, when their country was invaded % — Astonishing exertions made by the French on that 2 CONTENTS. occasion — Anecdote relating to Robespierre — Extraw* dinary resources created by the men of science — Means employed for increasing the manufacture of powder, cannon, and muskets — The produce of these new manu- factories contrasted with that of the old ones — Territorial acquisitions of the French — The Carnival revived in Paris. LETTER LXXIII. Page 437 Public gaming-houses — -Academies de jeu, which ex- isted in Paris before the revolution — Gaming-houses licensed by the police — The privilege of granting those licences is farmed by a private individual — Description of the Maisons de jeu — Anecdote of an old professed gambler — Gaming prevails in all the principal towns of France — The excuse of the old government for pro- moting gaming j is reproduced at the present day. LETTER LXXIV. 447 Museum of Natural History, or Jardin des PI antes — Is much enlarged since the revolution — One of the first esta- blishments of instruction in Europe — Contrast between its former state and that in which it noiv is — Fourcroy, the present director — His eloquence — Collections in this esta- blishment — 'Curious articles which claim particular notice* LETTER LXXV. 455 The Carnival — That of 1302, described—The Carnival of modern times, an imitation of the Saturnalia of the ancients — IVas for some years prohibited, since the revolution — Contrast between the Carnival under the monarchy and under the republican government. LETTER LXXVI. 46t Palais du Senat Conservateur, or Luxembourg Palace— CONTENTS. Mary of Medicis, by whom it iva^ erected, died in a garret — It belonged to Monsieur, before the revolution- Improvements in the garden of the Senate — National nursery formed in an adjoining piece of ground — Bastille — Le Temple — Its origin — Lewis XVI and his family confined in this modern state-prison. LETTER LXXVII. Page 468 Present state of the French Press — The liberty of the press, the measure of civil liberty — Comparison be- tween the state of the press in France and in England. LETTER LXXVIII. 477 Hospitals and other charitable ins titutio?is— Hotel -Dieix — Extract from the report of the Academy of Sciences on this abode of pestilence — Reforms introduced into it since the revolution— The present method of purifying French hospitals deserves to be adopted in England — Other hospitals in Paris — Hospice de la Maternite— - La Salpetriere — Bicetre — Faculties and Colleges of Physicians, as well as Colleges and Commonalties of Surgeons, replaced in France by Schools of Health — School of Medicine of Paris — France overrun by quacks — New law for checking the serious mischief they occasion — Society of Medicine — Gratuitous School of Pharmacy — Free Society of Apothecaries — Changes in the teaching and practice of medicine in France. LETTER LXXIX. 491 Private seminaries for youth of both sexes — Female education — Contrast between that formerly received in convents, and that now practised in the modern French boarding- schools , / CONTENTS. LETTER LXXX. Page 493 Progressive aggrandisement of Paris — Its origin — Under ike name of Lutetia, it was the capital of Gaul — Julian's account of it — The sieges it has sustained— Successively embellished by different kings — Progressive amelio^n on of the manners of its inhabitants — Ra- pid view of the causes which improved them, from the reign of Philip Augustus to that of Lewis XIV— Contrast between the number of public buildings be- fore and since the revolution — Population of Paris, from official documents — Ancient division of Paris- Is now divided into twelve mayoralties — Barrieres and high wall by which it is surrounded — Anecdote of the commis des barrieres seizing an Egyptian mummy. LETTER LXXXI. 507 Trench Furniture — The events of the revolution have con- tributed to improve the taste of persons connected with the furnishing line — Contrast between the style of the furniture in the Parisian houses in 1739-90 and 1801-2 — Les Gobelins, the celebrated national manufactory for tap&stry — La Savonnerie, a national manufactory for carpeting—National manufactory of plate-glass. LETTER LXXXII. 515 Academy of Fine Arts at the ci-devant College de Na- varre — Description of the establishment of the Piranesi —Three hundred artists of different nations distributed, in the seven classes of this academy — Different ivorks executed here in Paintings Sculpture, Architecture, Mosaic, and Engraving. CONTENTS. LETTER LXXXIII. Page Conservatory of Arts and Trades — It contains a numerous collection of machines of every description employed in the mechanical arts — Belier hydraulique, newly invented ly Montgolfier — Models of cur ions buildings — The mechanical arts in France have experienced more or less the impulse given to the sciences — The introduction of the Spanish merinos has greatly improved the French wools — New inventions and discoveries adopted in the French manufactories — Characteristic difference of the present state of French industry, and that in which it was before the revolution. LETTER LXXXIV. 526 Society for the encouragement of national industry — Its origin — lis objects detailed — Free Society of Agricul- ture—Amidst the storms of the revolution, agriculture has been improved in France — Causes of that improve- ment — The present state of agriculture, briefly contrasted with that which existed before the revolution — Di- dot's stereotypic editions of the classics — Advantages attending the use of stereotype — This invention clamed ly France, but proved to belong to Britain — Printing- office of the Republic, the most complete typographical establishment in being. LETTER LXXXV. 537 Present State of Society in Paris — In that city are three very distinct kinds of society — Description of each of these — Other societies are no more than a diminutive of the preceding — Philosophy of the French in forget- ting their misfortunes and lapses — The signature of the CONTENTS. definitive treaty announced by the sound of cannon- In the evening a grand illumination is displayed. , LETTER LXXXVL Page 547 Urbanity of the Parisians towards strangers — The shopkeep- ers in Paris overcharge their articles — Furnished Lodg- ings — Their price— The Milords Anglais now eclipsed by the Russian Counts — Expense of board in Paris — Job and Hackney Carriages — Are much improved since the revolution — Fare of the latter — Expense of the former —Cabriolets — Regulations of the police concerning these carriages— The negligence of drivers now meets with due chastisement — French women astonish bespattered fo- reigners by w al king the streets with spotless stock- ings — Valets-de-Place — Their wages augmented — Gene- ral Observations — An English traveller, on visiting Paris, shvtdd provide himself with letters of recommendation — Unless an Englishman acquires a competent know- ledge oj the manners of the country , he falls in ivh at aught to be the grand object of foreign travel — Si- tuation of one who brings no letters to Paris— The French now make a distinction between individuals only, not between nations — Are still indulgent to the English — Animadversion on the improper conduct of irrational British youths. LETTER LXXXVII. 560 Divorce — The Indissolubility of marriage In France, before the revolution, was supposed to promote adultery — No such excuse can now be pleaded — Origin of the present laws en divorce — Comparison on that subject between the French and the Romans — The effect of these laws Illustrated by examples — The stage ought to be made to conduce lo CONTENTS. the amelioration of morals — In France, the men blame the gjomen, with a view of extenuating their own ir- regularities— To -reform women, men ought to begin ly reforming themselves. LETTER LXXXVIII. Page 570 The author is recalled to England — Mendicants — The streets of Paris less infested by them now than before the revolution — Pawnbrokers — Their members much in- creased in Paris, and why — Mont de Piete — Lotteries now established in the principal towns in France — The fa- tal consequences of this incentive to gaming — Newspapers — Their numbers considerably augmented — Journals the inost in request — Baths — Bains Vigier described — School of Natation — Telegraphs — Those in Paris differ from those in use in England — Telegraphic language may be abridged — Private collections most deserving of notice in Paris — Depot d'armes of M. Boutet — M. Regnier, an ingenious mechanic — The author's reason for confining his observations to the capital — • Metamorphoses in Paris — The site of the famous Ja- cobin convent is intended for a market-place — Arts and Sciences are become popular in France, since the revolution — The author makes amende honorable^ or confesses his inability to accomplish the task imposed on him by his friend — He leaves Paris. ERRATA. §f3r Some of the following being typographical or other er- rors which may affect the sense, the Reader is requested to mark them with a pen or pencil, before he enters on the work. VOL. i. Page 11 Line 15 for forty-eight read fifty-eight 43 27 for Place du Louvre read Place du Vieux Louvre 184 19 jor Wolseley read Wolsey 214 ■ 12 for of partie quarree read of a partie quarree 329 6 for and read or 341 8 for surname read christian name 363 16 /wand of the chimes remand that of the chimes 433 „ 24 for Fitzames read Fitzjames VOL. 11. Page 60 Line 7 for he is a counter-tenor read he sings bass' IO9 * 7 for hundred read thousand 128 i 14 for devote read expose 130 23 for council 5 a similar read council ; and a similar 165 ]2 for was read were ogg— — 2 1 for Elleviou behind read Elleviou leaves behind 364 20 for have been read has been 392 3 for injures read insures 427 — — 1 1 for asked them for orders read asked for orders 432 4 for in read on 460 1 5 for but some read but the dress of some 517 9 for marble read stone 518 4 for principle read principal NEW ORGANIZATION OF THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE.* On the 3d of Pluviose, year XI (23d of January* 1803), the French government passed the following de- cree on this subject. Art. I. The National Institute, at present divided into three classes, shall henceforth consist of four; namely: Fir t Class I ^ ass °^ physical and mathematical ' sciences. c in f Class of the French language and lite* *? rature. Third Class — Class of history and ancient literature. Fourth Class — Class of fine arts. The present members of the Institute and associated foreigners shall be divided into these four classes. A commission of five members of the Institute, appointed by the First Consul, shall present to him the plan of this division, which shall be submitted to the approbation of the government. II. The first class shall be formed of the ten sec- tions, which at present compose the first class of the Institute, of a new section of geography and naviga- tion, and of eight foreign associates. These sections shall be composed and distinguished as folic ws: * Referred to in page 104, Vol, II of this work, II Hew organization of Mathematical Sciences. Geometry . six members Mechanics ...... .six ditto. Astronomy si& ditto. Geography and Navigation three ditto. General Physics six ditto. Physical Sciences. Chemistry .six ditto. Mineralogy , six ditto. Botany . . .six ditto. Rural Economy and the Veterinary Art. six ditto. Anatomy and Zoology six ditto. Medicine and Surgery six ditto. The first class shall name, with the approbation of the Chief Consul, two perpetual secretaries ; the one for the mathematical sciences; the other, for the phy- sical. The perpetual secretaries shall be members of the class, but shall make no part of any section. The first class may elect six of its members from among the other classes of the Institute. It may name a hundred correspondents, taken from among the learned men of the nation, and those of foreign countries. III. The second class shall be composed of forty members. It is particularly charged with the compilation and improvement of the dictionary of the French tongue. With respect to language, it shall examine im- portant works of literature, history, and sciences* The collection of its critical observations shall be published at least four times a year. fliE NATIONAL INSTITUTE . Ill It shall appoint from its own members, and with the approbation of the First Consul, a perpetual secre- tary, who shall continue to make one of the sixty mem- bers of whom the class is composed. It may elect twelve of its members from among those of the other classes of the Institute. IV. The third class shall be composed of forty mem- bers and eight foreign associates. The learned languages, antiquities and ornaments, history, and all the moral and political sciences in as far as they relate to history, shall be the objects of its researches and labours. It shall particularly endea- vour to enrich French literature with the works of Greek, Latin, and Oriental authors, which have not yet been translated. It shall employ itself in the continuation of diplo- matic collections. With the approbation of the First Consul, it shall name from its own members a perpetual secretary, who shall make one of the forty members of whom the class is composed. It may elect nine of its members from among those of the classes of the Institute. It may name sixty national or foreign correspond- ents. V. The fourth class shall be composed of twenty- eight members and eight foreign associates. They shall be divided into sections, named and composed as follows: Painting ten members. Sculpture six ditto. Architecture six ditto. Engraving , three ditto. Music (composition) three ditto. NEW" ORGANIZATION OF With the approbation- of the First Consul, it shall appoint a perpetual secretary, who shall be a member of the class, but shall not • make part of the sections a It may elect six of its members from among the other classes of the Institute. It may name thirty-six national or foreign corres- pondents. VI. The associated foreign members shall have a deliberative vote only for objects relating to sciences, literature, and arts. They shall not make part of any section, and shall receive no salary. VII. The present associates of the Institute, scattered throughout the Republic, shall make part of the one hundred and ninety -six correspondents, attached to the classes of the sciences, belles-lettres, and fine arts. The correspondents cannot assume the title of members of the Institute. They shall drop that of correspon- dents, when they take up their constant residence in Paris. VIII. The nominations to the vacancies shall be made by each of the classes in which those vacancies shall happen to occur. The persons elected shall be ap- proved by the First Consul. IX. The members of the four classes shall have a right to attend reciprocally the private sittings of each of them, and to read papers there when they have made the request. They shall assemble four times a year as the body of the Institute, in order to give to each other an ac- count of their transactions. They shall elect in common the librarian and un- der-librarian, as well as all the agents who belong in common to the Institute. Each class shall present for the approbation of the THE NATIONAL INSTITUTE. V government the particular statutes and regulations of its interior police. X. Each class shall hold every year a public sittings at which the other three shall assist. XI. The Institute shall receive annually, from the public treasury, 1500 francs for each of its members, not associates ; 6000 francs for each of its perpetual secreta- ries: and, for its expenses, a sum which- shall be de- termined on, every year, at the request of the Insti- tute, and comprised in the budget of the Minister of the Interior. XII. The Institute shall have an administrative commission, composed of five members, two of the first class, and one of each of the other three, appointed by their respective classes. This commission shall cause to be regulated in the general sittings, prescribed in Art. IX, every thing rela- tive to the administration, to the general purposes of the Institute, and to the division of the funds between the four classes. Each class shall afterwards regulate the employment of the funds which shall have been assigned for its expenses, as well as every thing that concerns the print ing and publication of its memoirs. XIII. Every year, each class shall distribute prizes, the number and value of which shall be regulated as follows: The first clas^, a prize of 3000 francs. The second and third classes, each a prize of 1500 francs. And the fourth class, great, prizes of painting, sculp- ture, architecture, and musical composition. Those whp VOL. I. C vf NEW ORGANIZATION, 8cC. shall have gained one of these four great prizes, shall be sent to Rome, and maintained at the expense of the government. XIV. The Minister of the Interior is charged with the execution pf the present decree, which shall be in- serted in the Bulletin of the Laws. INTRODUCTION. On ushering into the world a literary produc- tion, custom has established that its parent should give some account of his offspring. In- deed, this becomes the more necessary at the present moment, as the short-lived peace, which gave birth to the following sheets, had already ceased before they were entirely printed; and the war in which England and France are now engaged, is of a nature calculated not only to rouse all the energy and ancient spirit of my countrymen, but also to revive their prejudices, and inflame their passions, in a degree proportionate to the enemy's boastful and provoking menace. I therefore premise that those who may be tempted to take up this publication, merely with a view of seeking aliment for their enmity, will, in more respects than one, probably find them- selves disappointed. The two nations were not c 2 Vlii INTRODUCTION. rivals in arms, but in the arts and sciences, at the time these letters were written, and com- mitted to the press; consequently, they have no relation whatever to the present contest. Ne- vertheless, as they refer to subjects which ma- nifest the indefatigable activity of the French in the accomplishment of any grand object, such parts may, perhaps, furnish hints that may not be altogether unimportant at this momen- tous crisis. The plan most generally adhered to through- out this work, being detailed in Letter V, a repetition of it here would be superfluous; and the principal matters to which the work itself relates, are specified in the title. I now come to the point. A long residence in France, and particularly in the capital, having afforded me an oppor- tunity of becoming tolerably well acquainted with its state before the revolution, my cu- riosity was strongly excited to ascertain the changes which that political phenomenon might have effected. I accordingly availed myself of the earliest dawn of peace to cross the water, and visit Paris. Since I had left that city in 3789-90, a powerful monarchy, established on a possession of fourteen centuries, and on that INTRODUCTION, IX sort of national prosperity which seemed to chal- lenge the approbation of future ages, had been destroyed by the force of opinion, which, like a subterraneous fire, consumed its very founda- tions, and plunged the nation into a sea of troubles, in which it was, for several years, tossed about, amid the wreck of its greatness. This is a phenomenon of which antiquity affords no parallel; and it has produced a ra- pid succession of events so extraordinary as al- most to exceed belief. It is not the crimes to which it has given birth that will be thought improbable: the history of revolutions, as w r ell ancient as mo- dern, furnishes but too many examples of them ; &nd few have been committed, the traces of which are not to be found in the countries where the imagination of the multitude has been exalted by strong and new ideas respect- ing Liberty and Equality. But what posterity wall find difficult to believe, is the agitation of mens minds, and the effervescence of the pas- sions, carried to such a pitch, as to stamp the French revolution with a character bordering on the marvellous Yes; posterity will have reason to be astonished at the facility with which the human mind pan be modified and X INTRODUCTION made to pass from one extreme to another; at the suddenness, in short, with which the ideas and manners of the French were changed; so powerful, on the one hand, is the ascendency of certain imaginations; and, on the other, so great is the weakness of the vulgar! It is in the recollection of most persons, that the agitation of the public mind in France was such, for a while, that, after having over- thrown the monarchy and its supports; ren- dered private property insecure; and destroyed individual freedom; it threatened to invade fo- reign countries, at the same time pushing be- fore it Liberty, that first blessing of man, when it is founded on laws, and the most dangerous of chimeras, when it is without rule or re- straint. The greater part of the , causes which ex- cited this general commotion, existed before the assembly of the States-General in 17 89, It is therefore important to take a mental view of the moral and political situation of France at that period, and to follow, in imagination at least, the chain of ideas, passions, and errors, which, having dissolved the ties of society, and worn out the springs of government, led the nation by gigantic strides into the most com- plete anarchy. 4 INTRODUCTION'. X* Without enumerating the different authori- ties which successively ruled in France after the fall of the throne, it appears no less essential to remind the reader that, in this general dis- organization, the inhabitants themselves, though breathing the same air, scarcely knew that they belonged to the same nation. The altars over- thrown ; all the ancient institutions annihilated ; new festivals and ceremonies introduced; fac- tious demagogues honoured with an apothe- osis; their busts exposed to public veneration; men and cities changing names; a portion of the people infected with atheism, and disguised in the livery of guilt and folly; all this, and more, exercised the reflection of the well-dis- posed in a manner the most painful. In a word, though France was peopled with the same individuals, it seemed inhabited by a new na- tion, entirely different from the old one in its government, its creed, its principles, its man- ners, and even its customs. War itself assumed a new face. Every thing "relating to it became extraordinary: the num- ber of the combatants, the manner of recruiting the armies, and the means of providing sup- plies for them; the manufacture of powder, cannon, and muskets; the ardour, impetuosity, XII INTRODUCTION. and forced marches of the troops; their extor- tions, their successes, and their reverses; the choice of the generals, and the superior talents of some of them, together with the springs, by which these enormous bodies of armed men were moved and directed, were equally new and astonishing. History tells us that in poor countries, where nothing inflames cupidity and ambition, the love alone of the public good causes changes to be tried in the government; and that those changes derange not the ordinary course of so- ciety; whereas, among rich nations, corrupted by luxury, revolutions are always effected through secret motives of jealousy and interest; because there are great places to be usurped, and great fortunes to be invaded. In France, the revo- lution covered the country with ruins, tears, and blood, because means were not to be found to moderate in the people that revolutionary spirit which parches, in the bud, the promised fruits of liberty, when its Violence is not re- pressed. Few persons were capable of keeping pace with the rapid progress of the revolution. Those who remained behind were considered as guilty of desertion. The authors of the first consti- INTRODUCTION* xiil tution were accused of being royalists ; the old partisans of republicanism were punished as mo- derates \ the land-owners, as aristocrates; the monied men, as corrupters; the bankers and financiers, as blood-suckers}, the shop-keepers, as promoters of famine; and the newsmongers, as alarmists. The factious themselves, in short, were alternately proscribed, as soon as they ceased to belong to the ruling faction. In this state of things, society became a prey to the most baneful passions. Mistrust entered every heart; friendship had no attraction; rela- tionship, no tie; and men's minds, hardened by the habit of misfortune, or overwhelmed by fear, no longer opened to pity. Terror compressed every imagination; and the revolutionary government, exercising it to its full- est extent, struck off a prodigious number of heads, filled the prisons with victims, and con- tinued to corrupt the morals of the nation by staining it with crimes- But all things have an end. The tyrants fell; the dungeons we:e thrown open; nyinber- less victims emerged from them; and France seemed to recover new life; but still bewildere4 by the revolutionary spirit, wasted by the con- cealed poison of anarchy, exhausted by her m? introduction numerable sacrifices, and almost paralyzed by her own convulsions, she made but impotent efforts for the enjoyment of liberty and justice. Taxes became more burdensome; commerce was annihilated; industry, without aliment; paper- money, without value; and specie, without cir- culation. However, while the French nation was degraded at home by this series of evils, it was respected abroad through the rare merit of some of its generals, the splendour of its victories, and the bravery of its soldiers. During these transactions, there was formed in the public mind that moral resistance which destroys not governments by violence, but un- dermines them. The intestine commotions were increasing; the conquests of the French were invaded; their enemies were already on their frontiers; and the division which had broken out between the Directory and the Legislative. Body, again threatened France with a total dis- solution, when a man of extraordinary charac- ter and talents had the boldness to seize the reins of authority, and stop the further pro- gress of the revolution.* Taking at the full * Of two things, we are left to believe one. Bona- parte either was or was not invited to put himself at the head of the government of France. It is not probable INTRODUCTION. XV the tide which leads on to fortune, he at once changed the face of affairs, not only within the limits of the Republic, but throughout Europe. Yet, after all their triumphs, the French have the mortification to have failed in gaining that for which they first took up arms, and for that the Directory should send for him from Egypt, in order to say to him: though an old proverb, would not now suit as a maxim. This, in fact, seems the age of wonders. The league of monarchs has ended by producing republics; while a republic has raised a dukedom into a monarchy, and, by its vast preponderance, completely overturned the balance of power. Not knowing when I may have an opportu- nity of sending this letter, I shall defer to close it for the present, as I may possibly lengthen it. But you must not expect much order in my nar- rations. I throw my thoughts on paper just as they happen to present themselves, without any studied arrangement. A SKETCH OP PAKIS. 17 October 21, in continuation. When we have been for some time in the habit of corresponding with strangers, we are apt to draw such inferences from their language and style, as furnish us with the means of sketching an ideal portrait of their person. This was the case with myself. Through the concurrence of the two govern* ments, I had, as you know, participated, in com- mon with others, in the indulgence of being per- mitted to correspond, occasionally, on subjects of literature with several of the savans and literati of France. Indeed, the principal motive of my journey to Paris was to improve that sort of ac- quaintance, by personal intercourse, so as to render it more interesting to both parties. In my imagi- nation, I had drawn a full-length picture of most of my literary correspondents. I was now an- xious to see the originals, and compare the resemblance* Yesterday, having first paid my respects to Mr, M— — y, the successor to Captain C s, as commissary for the maintenance and exchange of British prisoners of war, and at present ChargS d'affaires from our court to the French Republic, I called on M. F u, formerly minister of the naval department, and at present counsellor of state, and member of the National Institute, as vol, i. s c 18 A SKETCH OP PARIS* well as of the board of longitude. I then visited M. O r; and afterwards M. L re, alsa members of the Institutey and both well known to our proficients in natural history, by the works which each has published in the different branches of that interesting science. In ane only of my ideal portraits had I been? very wide of the likeness. However, without pretending to be a Lavater, I may' affirm that I should not have risked falling into a mistake like that committed, on: a somewhat similar occasion, by Voltaire. This colossus of French literature, having been for a long time in correspondence with the great Frederic, became particularly anxious to see that monarch. On his arrival in a village where the head-quarters of the Prussian army were then established, Voltaire inquired for the king's lodg- ing : thither he paced with redoubled speed; and^ being directed to the upper part of the house, he hastily crossed a large garret ; he then found him- self in a second, and was just on the point of entering the third, when, on turning round, he perceived in one of the corners of the room^ h soldier, not overclean in appearance, lying on 3 sorry bedstead. He went up and said to him with eagerness : " Where's the king?" — " I am Frederic," replied the soldier; and, sure enough, it was the monarch himself. A SKETCH OP PARIS* }Q 1 am now settled in my new apartments, which are situated in the most centrical part of Paris6 When you visit this capital, I would, by all means, recommend to you, should you intend to remain here a few weeks, to get into private lodgings. I know of no article here so much augmented in price, within the last ten years, as the apart- ments in all the hotels. After looking at several of them in the Rue de la Loi> accompanied by a French friend, who was so obliging as to take on himself all the trouble of inquiry, while I re- mained a silent bystander, I had the curiosity to go to the Hotel d'Angleterre, in the Rue des Filles St. Thomas, not far from the ci-devant Palais Royal. The same apartments on the first floor of this hotel which I occupied in 2 happened to be vacant. At that time I paid for them twelve louis d'or a month ; the furniture was then new ; it is now much the worse for nearly eleven years' wear ; and the present land- lord asked twenty-five louis a month, and even refused twenty-two, if taken for three months certain. The fact is, that all the landlords of ready-furnished hotels in Paris seem to be buoyed up with an idea that, on the peace, the English and foreigners of other nations will flock hither in such numbers as to enable them to reap a certain and plentiful harvest. Not but all lodg- es 2 20 A SKETCH OP PARIS- ings are considerably increased in price, which is ascribed to the increase of taxes. To find private lodgings, you have only to cast your eye on the daily advertiser of Paris, called Les Petites Affiches. There I read a description of my present quarters, which are newly fitted up in every particular, and, I assure you, with no small degree of tasteful fancy. My landlady, who is a milliner, and, for aught I know, a very fashionable one, left not the smallest convenience to my conjecture, but explained the particular use of every hole and corner in the most significant manner, not even excepting the boudoir. This would be a most excellent situation for any one whose principal object was to practise speaking French ; for, on the right hand of the porte-cochere or gateway, (which, by the bye, is here reckoned an indispensable appendage to a proper lodging), is the magazin des modes, where my landlady presides over twenty damsels, many of whom, though assiduously occupied in making caps and bonnets, would, I am persuaded, find repartee for the most witty gallant. A SKETCH OF PARIS. 21 LETTER IF. Paris, October 13, 1801. Since my arrival, I have been so much engaged in paying and receiving visits, that I really have not yet been able to take even a hasty view of any of the grand sights introduced here since the revolution. OnWednesday I dined with M. S i, whose new 8vo edition of Buffon proceeds, I find, with becoming spirit. It is quite a journey to his resi- dence ; for he lives in one of the most retired quarters of Paris. However, I had no reason to repine at the distance, as the party was exceedr ingly cheerful. Naturalists and literati were not wanting. Egypt was a subject that engrossed much of the conversation : it was mentioned as a matter of regret that, during the dominion of the French in that country, curiosity had not prompted the Institute, established at Cairo, to open one of the pyramids, with a view of ascertaining the object of the erection of those vast masses. At the desert, we had luscious grapes as large as dam- sons, in bunches of from three to five pounds in weight. They were of the species of the famous chasmas de Fontainebleau, which are said to have 2'2 A SKETCH OF PARIS. sprung from a stock of vine-plants, imported by Francis I. from the island of Cyprus. These did not come from that town, but grew against the naked wall in S- — i's garden. From this you may form a judgment of the climate of Paris. The persons with whom I have had any corre- spondence, respecting literature, vie with each other in shewing me every mark of cordial hos- pitality ; and those to whom I have been intro- duced, are by no means backward in friendly attention. All the lovers of science here seem to rejoice that the communication, which has been so long interrupted between the two coun- tries, promises to be shortly re-opened. After dining yesterday with Mr. M y, the British minister, in company with Mr. D n, the member for Ilchester, we all three went to an exhibition almost facing Mr. M y's re- sidence in the Rue St. Dominique. This was the third time of its being open to the public. As it is of a novel kind, some account of it may not be uninteresting. In French, it is denominated THERMOLAMPES, or stoves which afford heat and light on an economical plan. The author of this invention, for which a patent has been obtained, is M. Lebon, an en- A SKETCH OP PARIS., 23 gineer of bridges and highways. The place of exhibition was the ground floor of one of the large hotels in the Faubourg St. Germain, on which was a suite of rooms, extremely favourable for displaying the effect of this new method of lighting and warming apartments. In lieu of fire or candle, on the chimney stood A large crystal globe, in which appeared a bright and clear flame diffusing a very agreeable heat ; and on different pieces of furniture were placed candlesticks with metal candles, from the top of each of which issued a steady light, like that of a lamp burning with spirits of wine. These dif- ferent receptacles were supplied with inflam- mable gas by means of tubes communicating with an apparatus underneath. By this contri- vance, in short, all the apartments were warmed very comfortably, and illuminated in a brilliant manner. On consulting M. Lebon, he communicated to me the following observations : Jf You may have remarked," said he, " in sitting before a fire, that wood sometimes burns without flame, but with much smoke, and then you experience little heat, sometimes with flame, but with little smoke, and then you find much warmth. You may have remarked too, that ill-made charcoal emits smoke ; it is, on that account, susceptible of flaming again ; and the characteristic difference? 24 A SKETCH OP PARIS. between wood and charcoal is, that the latter has lost, together with its smoke, the principle and aliment of flame, without which you obtain but little heat. Experience next informs us, that this portion of smoke, the aliment of flame, is not an oily vapour condensable by cooling, but a gas, a permanent air, which may be washed, purified, conducted, distributed, and afterwards turned in- to flame at any distance from the hearth. " It is almost needless," continued he, " to point out the formation of verdigrise, white lead, and a quantity of other operations, in which acetous acid is employed. I shall only remark that it is this pyroligneous acid which penetrates smoked meat and fish, that it has an effect on leather which it hardens, and that thermolampes are likely to render tanning-mills unnecessary, by furnishing the tan without further trouble. But to return to the aeriform principle. * c This aliment of flame is deprived of those humid vapours, so perceptible and so disagreeable to the organs of sight and smell. Purified to a perfect transparency, it floats in the state of cold air, and suffers itself to be directed by the smallest and most fragil pipes. Chimnies of an inch square, made in the thickness of the plaster of ceilings or walls, tubes even of gummed silk would answer this purpose. The end alone of the tube> which, by bringing the inflammable gas into A SKETCH OP PARIS. 25 contact with the atmospheric air, allows it tp catch fire, and on which the flame reposes, ought to be of metal. " By a distribution so easy to be established, a single stove may supply the place of all the chim- nies of a house. Every where inflammable air is ready to diffuse immediately heat and light of the most glowing or most mild nature, simul- taneously or separately, according to your wishes. In the twinkling of an eye, you may conduct the flame from one room to another; an advantage equally convenient and economical, and which can never be obtained with our common stoves and chimnies. No sparks, no charcoal, no soot, to trouble you ; no ashes, no wood, to soil your apartments. By night, as well as by day, you can have a fire in your room, without a servant be- ing obliged to look after it. Nothing in the thermolampesy not even the smallest portion of inflammable air, can escape combustion ; while in our chimnies, torrents evaporate, and even carry off with them the greater part of the heat produced. a The advantage of being able to purify and proportion, in some measure, the principles of the gas which feeds the flame is," said M. Lebon, $*< set forth in the clearest manner. But this flame is so subjected to our caprice, that even to tranquilize the imagination, it suffers it- 2(5 A SKETCH OP PARIS. self to be confined in a crystal globe, which i$ never tarnished, and thus presents a filter pervious to light and heat. A part of the tube that conducts the inflammable air, carries off, out of doors, the produce of this combustion, which, nevertheless, according to the experiments of mo- dern chymists, can scarcely be any thing more than an aqueous vapour. " Who cannot but be fond of having recourse to a flame so subservient ? It will dress your victuals, which, as well as your cooks, will not be exposed to the vapour of charcoal ; it will warm again those dishes on your table; dry your linen ; heat your oven, and the water for your baths or your washing, with every economical advantage that can be wished. No moist or black vapours ; ?io ashes, no breaze, to make a dirt, or oppose the communication of heat; no useless loss of caloric ; you may, by shutting an opening, which is no longer necessary for placing the wood in your oven, compress and coerce the torrents of heat that were escaping from it. " It may easily be conceived, that an inflam- mable principle so docile and so active may be, made to yield the most magnificent illuminations. Streams of fire finely drawn out, the duration, colour, and form of which may be varied at plea- sure, the motion of suns and turning-columns, must produce an effect no less agreeable than A SKETCH OF PARIS. 2/ brilliant." Indeed, this effect was exhibited on the garden faqade of M. Lebon's residence. ff Wood/' concluded he, " yields in condensa- ble vapours two thirds of its weight ; those vapour* may therefore be employed to produce the effects of our steam-engines, and it is needless to borrow this succour from foreign water.'* P. S. On the 1st of last Vendemiaire, (23rd of September), the government presented to the Chief Consul a sword, whose hilt was adorned with fourteen diamonds, the largest of which, called the Regent, from its having been purchased by the Duke of Orleans, when Regent, weighs 184 carats. This is the celebrated Pitt diamond, of which we have heard so much : but its weight is exceeded by that of the diamond purchased by the late empress of Russia, which weighs 194 carats ; not to speak of the more famous dia- mond, in possession of the Great Mogul, which is said to weigh 280 carats. LETTER K Paris, October 24, 1801. Last night I received yours of the 20th ult. and as Mr. M y purposes to send off a dis- patch this mornings and will do me the favour 28 A SKETCH OF PARIS. to forward this, with my former letters, I hasten to write you a few lines. I scarcely need assure you, my dear friend, that I will, with pleasure, communicate to you my remarks on this great city and its inhabitants, and describe to you, as far as I am able, the prin- cipal curiosities which it contains, particularizing, as you desire, those recently placed here by the chance of war ; and giving you a succinct, histo- rical account of the most remarkable national establishments and public buildings. But to pass In review the present state of the arts, sciences, literature, maimers, &c. &c. in this capital, and contrast it with that which existed before the re- volution, is a task indeed ; and far more, I fear, than it will be in my power to accomplish. However, if you will be content to gather my observations as they occur ; to listen to my re- flections, while the impression of the different scenes which produced them, is still warm in my mind ; in short, to take a faithful sketch, in lieu of a finished picture, I will do the best I can for your satisfaction. Relying on your indulgence, you shall know the life I lead: I will, as it were, take you by the arm, and, wherever I go, you shall be my companion. Perhaps, by pursuing this plan, you will not, at the expiration of three or four months, think your time unprofitable? spent, Aided by .A SKETCH OP PARIS. 2Q the experience acquired by having occasionally resided here, for several months together, be- fore the revolution, it will be my endeavour to make you as well acquainted with Paris, as I shall then hope to be myself. For this purpose, I will lay under contribution every authority, both written and oral, worthy of being consulted. LETTER VI Paris, October 26, 1801, From particular passages in your letter, I clearly perceive your anxiety to be introduced among those valuable antiques which now adorn the banks of the Seine. On that account, I deter- mined to postpone all other matters, and pay my first visit to the Central Museum of the Arts, established in the LOUVRE. But, before we enter the interior of this build- ing, it may not be amiss to give you some ac- count of its construction, and describe to you its exterior beauties. The origin of this palace, as well as the ety- mology of its name, is lost in the darkness of time. It is certain, however, that it existed, un- der the appellation of Louvre, in the reign pf 1 A SKETCH OF PAlU$ e Philip Augustus,, who surrounded it with ditches and towers,, and made it a fortress. The great tower of the Louvre^ celebrated in history, was insulated, and built in the middle of the court, All the great feudatories of the crown derived their tenure from this tower, and came hither to swear allegiance and pay homage, " It was," says St, Foix, '* a prison previously prepared for " them, if they violated their oaths*." Three Counts of Flanders were confined in it at dif- ferent periods. The Louvre^ far from being cheerful from its construction, received also from this enormous tower a melancholy and terrifying aspect which rendered it unworthy of being a royal residence- Charles V. endeavoured to enliven and embellish this gloomy abode, and made it tolerably com- modious for those times. Several foreign mo- narchs successively lodged in it ; such as Manuel, emperor of Constantinople ; Sigismund, emperor of Germany ; and the emperor Charles the Fifth. This large tower of the Louvre*, which had, at different periods, served palace to the kings of France, as a prison to the great lords, and as a treasury to the state, was at length taken down in 1528. E*msJii*4ijr ' sailles: W Sire/' said Dufreny once to that prince, " I never look at the New Louvre, without ex- " claiming, superb monument of the magnificence 6C of our greatest kings, you would have been " finished, had you been given to one of the " begging orders of friars !" From that period, the Louvre was wholly consecrated to the sittings of different academies, and to the accommodation of several men of science and artists, to whom free apartments were allotted, I much regret having, for this year at least, lost a sight here, which I should have viewed with no inconsiderable degree of attention. This is the Public Exhibition of the Productions of French Industry, Under the directorial government, this exhi- bition was opened in the Champ de Mars ; but it now takes place, annually, in the square of the Louvre, during the five complementary days of the republican calendar ; namely, from the 1 8th to the 22d of September, both inclusive. The exhibition not only includes manufactures pf every sort, b^t also every new discovery, in- A SKETCH OP PARIS. 30 vention, and improvement. For the purpose of displaying these objects to advantage, temporary buildings are erected along the four interior walls of this square, each of which are subdivided into twenty-five porticoes ; so that the whole square of the Louvre, during that period, represents a fair with a hundred booths. The resemblance, I am told, is rendered still more perfect by the prodigious crow T d; persons of all ranks being indiscriminately admitted to view these produc- tions. Precautions, however, are taken to pre- vent the indiscreet part of the public from rush- ing into the porticoes, and sentinels are posted at certain intervals to preserve order. This, undoubtedly, is a very laudable institu- tion, and extremely well calculated to excite emulation in the national manufactures, specimens of which being sent from all the principal ma- nufacturing towns, the hundred porticoes may be said to comprise an epitome of the present state of all the flourishing manufactures of France. Indeed, none but new inventions and articles of finished workmanship, the fabrication of which is known, are suffered to make part of the ex- hibition. Even these are not admitted till after a previous examination, and on the certificate of a private jury of five members, appointed for that purpose by the prefect of each department. A 40 A SKETCH OF PARIS. new jury, composed of fifteen members, nomi- nated by the Minister of the Interior, again exa- mine the different articles admitted ; and agreeably to their decision, the government award premiums and medals to those persons who have made the greatest improvement in any particular fabric or branch of industry, or produced any new dis- covery or invention. The successful candidates are presented to the Chief Consul by the Minister of the Interior, and have the honour of dining with him at his public monthly dinner. From all that I can learn concerning this in- teresting exhibition, it appears, that, though the useful arts, in general, cannot at present be put in competition here with those of a similar de- scription among us, the object of the French go- vernment is to keep up a spirit of rivalship, and encourage, by every possible means, the improve- ment of those manufactures in which England is acknowledged to surpass other countries, I am reminded that it is time to prepare for going out to dinner. I must therefore not leave this letter, like the Louvre, unfinished. Fortu- nately, my good friend, the prevailing fashion here is to dine very late, which leaves me a long morning ; but for this, I know not when I should have an opportunity of writing long letters. Restrain then your impatience, and I projnise A SKETCH OF PARIS. 41 that you shall very shortly be ushered into the Gallery of Antiques, u Where the smooth chisel all its force has shewn., " And soften'd into flesh the rugged stone." LETTER VIL Paris, October 28, 1801* Having, in my last letter, described to you the outside of the Louvre, (with the exception of the Great Gallery, of which I shall speak more at length in another place), I shall now proceed to give you an account of some of the principal na- tional establishments contained within its walls. Before the revolution, the Louvre was, as I have said, the seat of different academies, such as the French Academy, the Academy of Sciences, the Academy of Inscriptions and Belles Lettres, the Academy of Painting and Sculpture, mnd the Academy of Architecture. All these are replaced by the National Institute of Arts and Sciences, of which, however, I shall postpone further mention till I conduct you to one of its public sittings. At the period to which I revert, there existed in the Louvre a hall, called the Salle des Antiques, where, besides, some original statues by French 42 A SKETCH OP PARIS. artists, were assembled models in plaster of the most celebrated master-pieces of sculpture in Italy, together with a small number of antiques. In another apartment, forming part of those as- signed to the Academy of Painting, and called the Galerie d'Apollon, were seen several pictures, chiefly of the French school ; and it was in- tended that the Great Gallery should be formed into a Museum, containing a collection of the finest pictures and statues at the disposal of the crown. This plan, which had partly been carried into execution under the old regime, is now completed, but in a manner infinitely more magnificent than could possibly have been effected without the advantages of conquest. The Great Gallery and Saloon of the Louvre are solely appropriated to the exhibition of pictures of the old masters of the Italian, Flemish, and French schools; and the Gallery of Apollo to that of their drawings ; while a suite of lofty apartments has been purposely fitted up in this palace for the reception of original antiques, in lieu of those copies of them before- mentioned. In other rooms, adjoining to the Great Gallery, are exhibited, as formerly, that is during one month every year, the productions of living painters, sculptors, architects, and draughts- men., The*'- different exhibitions are placed under the A SKETCH OP PARIS* 43 supermtendance of a board of management, or an administration, (as the French term it), composed of a number of antiquaries, artists, and men of science, inferior to none in Europe in skill, judg- ment, taste, or erudition. The whole of this grand establishment bears the general title of CENTRAL MUSEUM OF THE ARTS. The treasures of painting and sculpture which the French nation have acquired by the success of their arms, or by express conditions in treaties of alliance or neutrality, are so immense as to enable them, not only to render this Central Museum the grandest collection of master-pieces in the world, but also to establish fifteen de- partmental Museums in fifteen of the principal towns of France. This measure, evidently in- tended to favour the progress of the fine arts, will ease Paris of a great number of the pictures, statues, &c. amassed here from different parts of France, Germany, Belgium, Holland, Italy, Piedmont, Savoy, and the States of Venice. If you cast your eye on the annexed Plan of Paris, and suppose yourself near the exterior south-west angle of the Louvre, or, as it is more emphatically styled, the National Palace of Arts and Sciences, you will be in the rights hand corner of the Place du Louvre, in which quarter is the present entrance to the Central 44 A SKETCH OP PARIS- Museum op the Arts. Here, after passing through a court, you enter a vestibule, on the left of which is the Hall of the Administration of the Museum. On the ground-floor, facing the door of this vestibule, is the entrance to the GALLERY OF ANTIQUES. In this gallery, which was, for the first time, opened to the public on the 18th of Brumaire, year ix. of the French republic, (Qth of Novem- ber 1800), are now distributed no less than one hundred and forty-six statues, busts, and bas-reliefs. It consists of several handsome apartments, bear- ing appropriate denominations, according to the principal subjects which each contains. Six only are at present completely arranged for public in- spection : but many others are in a state of pre- paration. The greater part of the statues here exhibited, are the fruit of the conquests of the army of Italy. Conformably to the treaty of Tolentino, they were selected at Rome, from the Capitol and the Vatican, by Barthelemy, Bertholet, Moitte, Monge, Thouin, and Tinet, who were appointed, by the French government, commissioners for the research of objects ap- pertaining to the Arts and Sciences. In the vestibule, for the moderate price of fifteen sous, is sold a catalogue, which is not a Sketch of paris- 45 merely a barren index, but a perspicuous and satisfactory explanation of the different objects that strike the eye of the admiring spectator as he traverses the Gallery of Antiques. It is by no means my intention to transcribe this cata- logue, or to mention every statue ; but, assisted by the valuable observations with which I was fa- voured by the learned antiquary, Visconti, long distinguished for his profound knowledge of the fine arts, I shall describe the most remarkable only, and such as would fix the attention of the connoisseur. On entering the gallery, you might, perhaps, be tempted to stop in the first hall ; but we will visit them all in regular succession, and proceed to that which is now the furthest on the left hand, The ceiling of this apartment, painted by Ro~ manelli, represents the four seasons; whence it is called the HALL OF THE SEASONS. In consequence, among other antiques, here are placed the statues of the rustic divinities, and those relating to the Seasons. Of the whole, I shall distinguish the following : N° 210. Diana. Diana, habited as a huntress, in a short tunic without sleeves, is holding her bow in onp A SKETCH OF PARIS. hand ; while, with the other, she is drawing an arrow from her quiver, which is suspended at her shoulder. Her legs are bare, and her feet are adorned with rich sandals. The goddess, with a look expressive of indignation, appears to be defend- ing the fabulous hind from the pursuit of Her- cules, who, in obedience to the oracle of Apollo, was pursuing it, in order to carry it alive to Eu< rystheus ; a task imposed on him by the latter as one of his twelve labours. To say that, in the opinion of the first-rate connoisseurs, this statue might serve as a com- panion to the Apollo of Belvedere, is sufficient to convey an idea of its perfection ; and, in fact^ it is reckoned the finest representation of Diana in existence. It is of Parian marble, and, ac- cording to historians, has been in France ever since the reign of Henry IV. It w r as the most perfect of the antiques which adorned the Gallery of Versailles. The parts wanting have been re- cently restored with such skill as to claim parti- cular admiration. 2>14. Rome. In this bus^ the city of Rome is personified as an Amazon. The helmet of the female war- rior is adorned with a representation of the she- wolf suckling the children of Mars. This antique, of Parian marble, is of a perfect 1 A SKETCH OP PARIS. 47 Greek style, and in admirable preservation. It formerly belonged to the Gallery of Richelieu- Castle. 51. Adolescens spinam avellens. This bronze figure represents a young man seated, who seems employed in extracting a thorn from his left foot. It is a production of the flourishing period of the art, but, according to appearance, anterior to the reign of Alexander the Great. It par- takes a little of the meagre style of the old Greek school ; but, at the same time, is finished with astonishing truth, and exhibits a graceful sim- plicity of expression. In what place it was origi- nally discovered is not known. It was taken from the Capitol, where it was seen in the Palazzo dei Conservatori. 50. A Faun, in a resting posture. This young faun, with no other covering than a deer's skin thrown over his shoulders, is stand- ing with his legs crossed, and leaning on the trunk of a tree, as if resting himself. The grace and finished execution that reign throughout this figure, as well as the immense number of copies still existing of it, and all an- tiques, occasion it to be considered as the copy of the Faun in bronze, (or Satyr as it is termed 43 A SKETCH OP PARIS* by the Greeks), of Praxiteles. That statue was so celebrated, that the epithet of vEgiGoviTos, or the famous, became its distinctive appellation throughout Greece* This Faun is of Pentelic marble : it was found in 1701, near Civita Lavinia, and placed in the Capitol by Benedict XIV. 5Q. Ariadne, known by the name of Cleopatra. In this beautiful figure, Ariadne is represented asleep on a rock in the Isle of Naxos, aban- doned by the faithless Theseus, and at the mo- ment when Bacchus became enamoured of her* as described by several ancient poets. It is astonishing how the expression of sleep could be mistaken for that of death, and cause this figure to be called Cleopatra. The serpent on the upper part of the left arm is evidently a bracelet, of that figure which the Greek women called oq>ihov, or the little serpent. For three successive centuries, this statue of Parian marble constituted one of the principal ornaments of the Belvedere of the Vatican, where it was placed by Julius II. 190. Augustus. This head of Augustus, adorned with the civic crown of oak leaves, is -one of the fine portraits of that emperor. It is executed in Parian marble, A SKETCH OP PARIS, 4Q and comes from Verona, where it was admired in the Bevilacqua cabinet. On quitting the Hall of the Seasons, we return to that through which we first passed to reach it. This apartment, from being ornamented with the statues of Zeno, Trajan, Demos- thenes, and Phocion, is denominated the HALL OF ILLUSTRIOUS MEN. It is decorated with eight antique granite pil- lars brought from Aix-la-Chapelle, where they stood in the nave of the church, which con- tained the tomb of Charlemagne. Among the antiques placed in it, I shall par- ticularize N° 75. Menander. This figure represents the poet, honoured by the Greeks with the title of Prince of the New Comedy, sitting on a hemi-cycle, or semicircular seat, and resting after his literary labours. He is clad in the Grecian tunic and pallium. 76. Posidippus. The dress of Posidippus, who was reckoned among the Greeks one of the best authors cf what was called the New Comedy* is nearly that vol. 1, a A SKETCH OF PARIS. of Menander, the poet Like him, he is repre- sented sitting on a hemi-cycle. These two statues, which are companions, are admirable for the noble simplicity of their execu- tion. They are both of Pentelic marble, and were found in the XVIth century at Rome, in the gardens of the convent of San Lorenzo, on Mount Viminal. After making part of the baths of Olympius, they were placed by Sixtus V. at Negroni, whence they were removed to the Vatican by Pius VI. Continuing our examination, after leaving the Hall of Illustrious Men, we next come to the HALL OF THE ROMANS. The ceiling of this hall is ornamented with subjects taken from the Roman history, painted by Romanblli $ and in it are chiefly assembled such works of sculpture as have a relation to that people. Among several busts and statues, representing Adrian, Publius Cornelius Scipio, Marcus Junius Brutus, Lucius Junius Brutus, Cicero, &c. I shall point out to your notice, 209. The Torso of Belvedere. This admirable rerpna.ot of a figure seated. A SKETCH OP PARIS. 51 though the head, arms, and legs are wanting, re- presents the apotheosis of Hercules. The lion's skin spread on the rock, and the enormous size of the limbs, leave no doubt as to the subject of the statue. Notwithstanding the muscles are strongly marked, the veins in the body of the hero are suppressed, whence antiquaries have in- ferred, that the intention of the author w£s to indicate the very moment of his deification. Ac- cording to this idea, our countryman Flaxman has immortalized himself by restoring a copy of the Torso, and placing Hebe on the left of Her- cules, in the act of presenting to him the cup of immortality. On the rock, where the figure is seated, is the following Greek inscription : AnOAAcoNX02 NESTOPOS A0HNAIO2 EnOIEl. By which we are informed, that it is the produc- tion of Apollonius, the Athenian, the son of Nestor, who, probably, flourished in the time of Pompey the Great. This valuable antique is of Pentelic marble, and sculptured in a most niasterly style. It was found at Rome, near Pompey's theatre, now CawpQ e 2 52 A SKETCH OP PARIS* di Fiorc. Julius II. placed it in the garden of the Vatican, where it was long the object of the studies of Michael Angelo, Raphael, &c. those illustrious geniuses, to whom we are indebted for the improvement of the fine arts. Among artists, it has always been distinguished by the appellation of the Torso of Belvedere. Q4. A wounded warrior, commonly called the Gladiator Moriens. This figure, represents a barbarian soldier, dying on the field of battle, without surrendering. It is remarkable for truth of imitation, of a choice nature, though not sublime, (because the subject would not admit of it,) and for nobleness of ex- pression, which is evident without affectation. This statue formerly belonged to the Villa- Ludovisi, whence it was removed to the Museum of the Capitol by Clement XII. It is from the chisel of Agasias, a sculptor of Ephesus, who lived 450 years before the Christian era. 82. Ceres. This charming figure is rather that of a Muse than of the goddess of agriculture. It is ad- mirable for the ideal beauty of the drapery* She is clad in a tunic ; over this is thrown a mantle, the execution of which is so perfect, that, through A SKETCH OP PARIS. 63 it, are perceived the knots of the strings which fasten the tunic below the bosom. It formerly belonged to the Villa-Mattei> on Mount Esquiline ; but was taken from the Mu- seum of the Vatican, where it had been placed by Clement XIV. 80. A Roman orator, called Germanicus. Hitherto this admirable figure of a Roman orator, with the attributes of Mercury, the god of eloquence, has passed for that of Germanicus, though it is manifestly too old for him. Here we have another model of beautiful elegance of form, though not of an ideal sublimity. On the shell of a tortoise, at the foot of the statue, is inscribed in beautiful Greek characters % KA£OMENH£ KAE0MEN0T2 A0HNAIOZE nOlHSEN. Whence we learn that it is the production of Cleomenes, an Athenian artist, mentioned by Pliny, and who flourished towards the end of the Roman republic, about 500 years before Christ. This statue was taken from the Gallery of Ver- sailles, where it had been placed in the reign of Lewis XIV. It formerly belonged to the garden of Sixtus V. at Filla-Montalto, in RQme, 54 A SKETCH OF PARIS* 97. Antinous, called the Antinous of the Capitol. In this monument, Adrians favourite is repre- sented as having scarcely attained the age of puberty. He is naked, and his attitude has some affinity to that of Mercury. However, his coun- tenance seems to be impressed with that cast of melancholy, by which all his portraits are dis- tinguished. Hence has been applied to him that verse of Virgil on Marcellus: C6 Sedfrons Iceta parum, et dejecto lamina vidtii " This beautiful figure, of Carrara marble, is sculptured in a uiasterly manner. It comes from the Museum of the Capitol, and previa ously belonged to the collection of Cardinal Alessandro Albani. The fore-arm and left leg are modern. 200. Antinous. In this colossal bust of the Bithynian youth, are some peculiarities which call to mind the images of the Egyptian god Harpocrates. It is finely executed in 'hard Greek marble, and comes from the Museum of the Vatican. As recently as the year l^QO, it was dug from the ruins of the Villa-Fede at Tivoli. But enough for to-day — to-morrow I will re- A SKETCH OF PARIS. 55 same my pen, and we will complete our survey of the Gallery op Antiques- LETTER Fill. Paris, October 2Q, 1801. If the culture of the arts, by promoting industry and increasing commerce, improves civilization, and refines manners, what modern people can boast of such advantages as are now enjoyed by the French nation ? While the sciences keep pace with the arts, good taste bids fair to spread, in time, from the capital throughout the country, and to become universal among them. In antiquity, Athens attests the truth of this pro- position, by rising, through the same means, above all the cities of Greece; and, in modern times, have we not seen in Florence, become opulent, the darkness of ignorance vanish, like a fog, before the bright rays of knowledge, diffused by the flourishing progress of the arts and sciences ? When I closed my letter yesterday, we had just terminated our examination of the Hall of the Romans. On the same line with it, the next apartment we reach, taking its name from the celebrated group here placed, is styled the 56 A SKETCH OF PARIS, HALL OF THE LAOCOON. Here are to be admired four pillars of verde an- ticoy a species of green marble, obtained by the ancients, from the environs of Thessalonica. They were taken from the church of Montmo- rency, where they decorated the tomb of Anne, the constable of that name. The first three apart- ments are floored with inlaid oak; but this is paved with beautiful marble. Of the chefs d'ceuvre exhibited in this hall, every person of taste cannot but feel particular gratification in examining the undermentioned: N° 108. Laocoon. The pathetic story which forms the subject of this admirable group is known to every classic reader. It is considered as one of the most per- fect works that ever came from the chisel ; being at once a master-piece of composition, design, and feeling. Any sort of commentary could but weaken the impression which it makes on the be- holder. It was found in 1506, under the pontificate of Julius II, at Rome, on Mount Esquiline, in the rains of the palace of Titus. The three Rhodian artists, Agesander, Polydokus, and Atheno- Porus, mentioned by Pliny, as the sculptors of this chef d'ceuvre flourished during the time of the A SKETCH OP PARIS. 57 Emperors, in the first century of the christian era. The group is composed of five blocks, but joined in so skilful a manner, that Pliny thought them of one single piece. The right arm of the father and two arms of the children are wanting. ill. Amazon. This uncommonly beautiful figure of Parian marble represents a woman, whose feminine fea- tures and form seem to have contracted the im- pression of the masculine habits of warfare-, Clad in a very fine tunic, which, leaving the left breast exposed, is tucked up on the hips, she is in the act of bending a large bow. No attitude could be better calculated for exhibiting to ad- vantage the finely-modelled person of this heroine. For two centuries, this statue was at the Villa- Mattel, on Mount Ccelius at Rome, whence it was removed to the Museum of the Vatican by Clement XIV f 1 1 8, Meleager. The son of GEneus, king of Calydon, with no- thing but a chlamis fastened on his shoulders, and winding round his left arm, is here repre- sented resting himself, after having killed the formidable wild boar, which was ravaging his do- a3 A SKETCH OP PABIS, minions; at his side is the head of the animal, and near him sits his faithful dog. The beauty of this group is sublime, and yet it is of a different cast, from either that of the Apollo of Belvedere, or that of the Mercury, called An- tinoiis, of which we shall presently have occasion to speak. This group is of Greek marble of a cinereous colour: there are two different traditions respect- ing the place where it was found; but the prefer- ence is given to that of Aldroandi, who affirms that it was discovered in a vineyard bordering on the Tiber. It belonged to Fusconi, physician to Paul III, and was for a long time in the Pighini palace at Rome, whence Clement XIV had it con- veyed to the Vatican. 103 and 104. Tivo busts, called Tragedy and Comedy. These colossal heads of Bacchantes adorned the entrance of the theatre of the Villa-Adriana at Tivoli. Though the execution of them is highly finished, it is no detriment to the grandeur of the style. The one is of Pentelic marble; and the other, of Parian. Having been purchased of Count Fede by Pius VI, they were placed in the Museum of the Vatican. A SKETCH OF PARIS. 59 105. Antinous. This bust is particularly deserving of attention, on account of its beauty, its excellent preservation and perfect resemblance to the medals which re- main of Adrian's favourite, It is of Parian marble of the finest quality, and had been in France long before the revolution. 112. Ariadne, called (in the catalogue) Bacchus. Some sculptors have determined to call this beautiful head that of Bacchus; while the cele- brated Visconti, and other distinguished an- tiquaries, persist in preserving to it its ancient name of Ariadne, by which it was known in the Museum of the Capitol. Whichever it may be, it is of Pentelic marble, and unquestionably one of the most sublime pro- ductions of the chisel, in point of ideal beauty. From the Hall of the Laocoon, we pass into the apartment, which, from the famous statue, here erected, and embellished in the most splendid manner, takes the appellation of the HALL OF THE APOLLO. This hall is ornamented with four pillars of red oriental granite of the finest quality : those which decorate the niche of the Apollo v/ere taken from 6o A SKETCH OF PARIS* the church that contained the tomb of Charle- magne at Aix-la-Chapelle. The floor is paved with different species of scarce and valuable marble, in large compartments, and, in its centre, is placed a large octagonal table of the same substance. In proportion to the dimensions of this apart- ment, which is considerably larger than any of the others, a greater number of antiques are here placed, of which the following are the most pre- eminent. N° 145. Apollo Pythius, commonly called the Apollo of Belvedere, The name alone of this chef d'oeuvre might be said to contain its eulogium. But as you may, probably, expect from me some remarks on it, I shall candidly acknowledge that I can do no better than communicate to you the able and interesting description given of it by the Administration of the Museum, of which the following is a fair abridg- ment. " Apollo has just discharged the mortal arrow which has struck the serpent Python, while ra- vaging Delphi. In his left hand is held his for- midable bow ; his right has but an instant quitted it: all his members still preserve the impression given them by this action. Indignation is seated on his lips; but in his looks is the assurance of A SKETCH OF PARIS. 61 success. His hair, slightly curled, floats in long ringlets round his neck, or is gracefully turned up on the crown of his head, which is encircled by the strophhim, or fillet, characteristic of kings and gods. His quiver is suspended by a belt to the right shoulder: his feet are adorned with rich sandals. His chlamis fastened on the shoulder, and tucked up only on the left arm, is thrown back, as if to display the majesty of his divine form to greater advantage. " An eternal youth is spread over all his beau* tiful figure, a sublime mixture of nobleness and agility, of vigour and elegance, and which holds a happy medium between the delicate form of Bacchus, and the more manly one of Mercury i" This inimitable master-piece is of Carrara mar- ble, and, consequently, was executed by some Greek artist who lived in the time of the Romans ; but the name of its author is entirely unknown. The fore-arm and the left hand, which were want- ing, were restored by Giovanni Angelo de Mon- torsoli, a sculptor, who was a pupil of Michael Angelo. Towards the end of the fifteenth century, it was discovered at Capo cC Anzo, twelve leagues from Rome, on the sea-shore, near the ruins of the ancient Antium. Julius II, when cardinal, pur- chased this statue, and placed it in his palace; 62 A SKETCH OF PARIS. but shortly after, having arrived at the pontifi- cate, he had it conveyed to the Belvedere of the Vatican, where, for three centuries, it was the admiration of the world. On the 1 6th of Brumaire, year IX, (7th of No- vember, 1801) Bonaparte, as First Consul, ce- lebrated, in great pomp, the inauguration of the Apollo ; on which occasion he placed between the plinth of the statue, and its pedestal, a brass tablet bearing a suitable inscription. The Apollo stands facing the entrance-door of the apartment, in an elevated recess, decorated, as I have before observed, with beautiful granite pillars. The flight of steps, leading to this recess, is paved with the rarest marble, inlaid with squares of curious antique mosaic, and on them are placed two Egyptian sphynxes of red oriental granite, taken from the Museum of the V atican. 142. Venus of the Capitol. This figure of Parian marble represents the goddess of beauty issuing from the bath. Her charms are not concealed by any veil or garment. She is slightly turning her head to the left, as if to smile on the Graces, who are supposed to be preparing to attire her. In point of execution, this is allowed to be the most beautiful of all the statues of Venus which 1 A SKETCH CP PARIS. 63 we have remaining. The Venus of Medicis sur- passes it in sublimity of form., approaching nearer to ideal beauty. Bupalus, a sculptor of the Isle of Scio, is said to have produced this master-piece. He lived 600 years before Christ, so that it has now been in existence upwards of two thousand four hun- dred years. It was found about the middle of the eighteenth, century, near San~Vitale, at Rome. Benedict XIV having purchased it of the Stati family, placed it in the C&pitol. J25. Mercury, commonly called,, the Anurous of Belvedere. This statue, also of the finest Parian marble, is one of the most beautiful that can be imagined. More robust in form than either that of the Apollo or of the Meleager, it loses nothing by being contemplated after the former. In short, the harmony which reigns between its parts is such, that the celebrated Poussin, in preference to every other, always took from it the proportions of the human figure. It was found at Rome, on Mount Esquiiine, under the pontificate of Paul III, who placed it in the Belvedere of the Vatican, near the Apollo and the Laocoon. 64 A SKETCH OF PARIS. 151. The Egyptian Antinous* In this statue, Antinous is represented as a di- vinity of Egypt. He is standing in the usual at- titude of the Egyptian gods, and is naked, with the exception of his head and wrist, which are co- vered with a species of drapery in imitation of the sacred garments. This beautiful figure is wrought with superior excellence. It is of white marble, which leads to a conjecture that it might have been intended to represent Orus, the god of light, it having been the custom of the Egyptians to represent all their other divinities in coloured marble. It was dis- covered in 1738, at Tivoli, in the Villa- Adriana, and taken from the Museum of the Capitol. To judge from the great number of figures of Antinous, sculptured by order of Adrian to per- petuate the memory of that favourite, the empe- ror's gratitude for him must have been unbounded. Under the form of different divinities, or at dif- ferent periods of life, there are at present in the Gallery op Antiques no less than five portraits of him, besides three statues and two busts. Three other statues of Antinous, together with a bust, and an excellent bass-relief, in which he is repre- sented, yet remain to be placed. A SKETCH OF PARIS* 65 156, Bacchus. The god of wine is here represented standings and entirely naked. He is leaning carelessly with his left arm on the trunk of an elm, round which winds a grape-vine. This statue, of the marble called at Rome Greco duro K is reckoned one of the finest extant of the mirth-inspiring deity. Having surveyed every object deserving of notice in the Hall op the Apollo, we proceed, on the right hand, towards its extremity, and reach the last apartment of the gallery, which, from being consecrated to the tuneful Nine, is called the HALL OF THE muses. It is paved with curious marble, and independ- ently of the Muses, and their leader, Apollo, here are also assembled the antique portraits of poets and philosophers who have rendered themselves famous by cultivating them. Among these we may perceive Homer and Virgil ; but the most femarkable specimen of the art is N° 177. Euripides. In this hermes we have a capital representation of the features of the rival of Sophocles. The countenance is at once noble, serious, and ex- vol. 1, g 66 A SKETCH OP PARIS* pressive. It bears the stamp of the genius of that celebrated tragic poet, which was naturally sub* lime and profound, though inclined to the pathetic. This hermes is executed in Pentelic marble, and was taken from the academy of Mantua. Since the revival of the arts, the lovers of an- tiquity have made repeated attempts to form a collection of antique statues of the Muses; but none was ever so complete as that assembled in the Museum of the Vatican by Pius VI, and which the chance of war has now transferred to the banks of the Seine. Here the bard may offer up to them a solemn invocation, and compose his, lay, as it were, under their very eyes. The statues of Clio, Thalia, Terpsichore, Erato, Polyhymnia, and Calliope, together with the Apollo Musagetes, were discovered in 1 774, at Tivoli, among the ruins of the villa of Cassius. To complete the number, Pius VI ob~ ained the Euterpe and the Urania from the Lancellotti palace at Veletru They are supposed to be antique copies of the statues of the Nine Muses by Philiscus, which, according to Pliny, graced the portico of Octavia. The air of grandeur that reigns in the general arrangement of the gallery is very striking: and the tasteful and judicious distribution of this matchless assemblage of antiques does great ho- A SKETCH OF PARIS. 67 nour to the Council of the Central Museum, Among the riches which Rome possessed, the French commissioners also, by their choice se- lection, have manifested the depth of their know- ledge, and thejustness of their discrimination. The alterations and embellishments made in the different apartments of the Gallery op An* tiques have been executed under the immediate direction of their author, M. Raymond, member of the National Institute, and architect to the National Palace of Arts and Sciences. In winter, the apartments are kept warm by means of flues, which diffuse a genial vapour. Here, without the expense of a single Hard, the young draughtsman may form his taste by studying the true antique models of Grecian sculpture; the more experienced artist may consult them as he finds occasion in the composition of his subjects; while the connoisseur, the amateur, or the simple observer may spend many an agreeable hour in contemplating these master-pieces which, for centuries, have inspired universal admirati n. These are the materials on which Genius ought to work, and without which the most promising talent may be greatly misapplied, if not entirely lost. It was by studying closely these correct models, that the great Michael Angelo, the sublime Raphael, 'and other eminent masters, acquired that idea of excellence which is the re- F 2 68 A SKETCH OF PARIS. suit of the accumulated experience of successive ages. Here, in one visit, the student may imbibe those principles to ascertain which many artists have consumed the best part of their days; and penetrated by their effect, he is spared the la- borious investigation by which they came to be known and established. It is unnecessary to ex- patiate on the advantages which the fine arts may expect to derive from such a repository of antiques in a capital so centrical as Paris. The contemplation of them cannot fail to fire the ge- nius of any artist of taste, and prompt his efforts towards the attainment of that grand style, which, disdaining the minute accidental particularities of individual objects, improves partial representation by the general and invariable ideas of nature. A vast collection of antiquities of every des- cription is still expected from Italy, among which are the Venus of Medicis and the Pallas of Vele- tri, a finely-preserved statue, classed by artists among those of the first rank, dug up at Veletri in 1799, in consequence of the researches made there by order of the French commissioners. Upwards of five hundred cases were lying on the banks of the Tiber, at Rome, ready to be sent " off to France, when the Neapolitans entered that city. They carried them all away: but by the last article of the treaty of peace with the king of Naples, the whole of them are to be restored to A SKETCH OP PARIS- 69 the French Republic. For the purpose of ve- rifying their condition, and taking measures for their conveyance to Paris, two commissioners have been dispatched to Italy : one is the son of Chaptal, Minister of the Interior, and the other is Dufourny, the architect. On the arrival of these cases, even after the fifteen departmental Museums have been supplied, it is asserted that there will yet remain in the French capital, an- tiquities in sufficient number to form a museum almost from Paris to Versailles. The Central Museum of the Arts is open to the public in general on the 8th, Qth, and 1 Oth of each decade # ; the other days are appropriated to the study of young pupils ; but a foreigner has only to produce his per mis de sejour to gain admis- sion gratis every day from the hour of ten o'clock to four. To the credit of the nation, I must observe that this exception in favour of foreigners excites no jealousy whatever. It is no more than a justice due to the liberality of the French republican government to add, that they set a noble example which is w r orthy of be- ing followed, not only in England, but in every other country, where the arts and sciences are honoured, or the general interests of mankind * By a subsequent regulation, Saturday and Sunday are the days on which the Central Museum is open to public in- spection, 70 A SKETCH OF PARIS. held in estimation. From persons visiting any national establishment, whether museum, library, cabinet, or garden, in this capital, no sort of fee or perquisite is now expected, or allowed to be taken. Although it was not a public day when I paid my first visit to the Centkai* Museum, no sooner did I shew my permis de sejour, than the doors were thrown open; and from M. Vis^ conti, and other members of the Council, who happened to be present, I experienced the most polite and obliging attention. As an English* man, I confess that I felt a degree of shame on reflecting to what pitiful exaction a foreigner would be subject, who might casually visit any public object of curiosity in our metropolis, LETTER IX. Paris, October 31, 1801. Ik answer to your question, I shall begin by informing jou that I have not set eyes on the petit caporaly as some affect to style the Chief Consul He spends much of his time, I am told, at Malyiaisoriy his country-seat; and sel- dom appears in public, except in his box at the Opera, or at the French theatre ; but at the grand monthly parade, I shall be certain to behold him, l A SKETCH OF PARIS. 71- On the 1 5th of the present month of Brumairc, acording to the republican calendar, which day answers to the 6th of November. I have there- fore to check my impatience for a week longer. However, if I have not yet seen Bonaparte himself, I have at least seen a person who has seen him, and will take care that I shall have an opportunity of seeing him too : this person is no less than a general — who accompanied him in his expedition to Egypt — who was among the chosen few that returned with him from that country — - who there surveyed the mouths of the Nile — who served under him in the famous campaign of Syria ; and who at this day is one of the first military engineers in Europe. In a word, it is General A y, of the artillery, at present Director of that scientific establishment, called the Depot be la Guerre. He invited me the day before yesterday to breakfast, w T ith a view of meeting some of his friends whom he had purposely assembled, I am not fond of breakfasting from home ; mats il faut vivre h Rome comme (I Rome. Be- tween ten and eleven o'clock I reached the Depdt, which is situated in the Rue de V University Fau~ lourg St. Germain, at the ci-devant Hdtel d'Har- court, formerly belonging to the duke of that name. Passing through the gate-way, I was pro- ceeding boldly to the principal entrance of the 72 A SKETCH OF PARIS. hotel, when a sentinel stopped me short by charging his bayonet. " Citizen/' said he fiercely, at the same time pointing to the lodge on the right, " you must speak to the porter." I ac- cordingly obeyed the mandate. " What's your business, citizen ?" inquired the porter gruffly, — u My business, citizen/' replied I, " is only to '/ breakfast with the general."— " Be so good, ki citizen," rejoined he in a milder tone, " as to " take the trouble to ascend the grand stair-case, t 6 and ring the bell on the first-floor." Being introduced into the general's apartments, I there found eight or ten persons of very ntelli- gent aspect, seated at a round table, loaded with all sorts of good things, but, in my mind, better calculated for dinner than breakfast. Among a, great variety of delicacies, were beef-steaks, or, as they lire here termed, bif-ticks a FAnglaise. Oysters too were not forgotten : indeed, they compose an essential part of a French breakfast ; and the ladies seem particularly partial to them, I suppose, because they are esteemed strengthening to a delicate constitution. Nothing could be more pleasant than this party. Most of the guests were distinguished literati, or military men of no ordinary stamp* One of the latter, a chef de brigade of engineers, near whom I considered myself fortunate in being placed, spoke to me in the highest terms of Mr, A SKETCH OF PARIS. 73 Spencer Smith, Sir Sidney's brother, to whose interference at. Constantinople, he was indebted for his release from a Turkish prison. Notwithstanding the continual clatter of knives and forks, and the occasional gingle of glasses, the conversation, which suffered no interruption, was to me extremely interesting : I never heard any men express opinions more liberal on every sub- ject that was started. It w as particularly gratify- ing to my feelings, as an Englishman, to hear a set of French gentlemen, some of whom had parti- cipated in the sort of disgrace attached to the raising of the siege of St. Jean d'Acre, generously bestow just encomiums on my brother-officer, to whose heroism they owed their failure. Addison, J think, says, somewhere in the Spectator, that national prejudice is a laudable partiality; but, however laudable it may be to indulge such % partiality, it ought not to render us blind to the jnerit of individuals of a rival nation. General A y, being one of those whose talents have been found too useful to the State to be suffered to remain in inaction, was obliged to attend at the Cornell des Mines soon after twelve o'clock, when the party separated. Just as I was taking leave, he did me the favour to put into my hand a copy of his Histoire du Canal du Midi, of which I shall say more when I have had leisure to peruse it. ?4 A SKETCH OF PARIS. I do not know that a man in good health, who takes regular exercise, is the worse for breakfast- ing on a beef-steak, in the long-exploded style of Queen Bess; but I am no advocate for all the accessories of a French dejeuner d la fourchette. The strong Mocha coffee which I swallowed, could not check the more powerful effect of the Madeira and crhne de rose. I therefore deter- mined on taking a long walk, which, when sad- dle-horses are not to Ibe procured, I have always found the best remedy for the kind of restlessness created by such a breakfast. I accordingly directed my steps across the Pont & Place de la Concorde, traversed the street of the same name ; and, following the Boulevard for a certain distance, struck off to the left, that is, towards the north, in order to gain the summit of MONTMARTRE. In ancient times, there stood on this hill a temple dedicated to Mars, whence the name Mons Martls, of which has been made Mont- mar ire. At the foot of it, was the Campus Martins, or Champ de Mars, where the French kings of the first race caused their throne to be erected every year on the first of May. They came hither in a car, decorated with green boughs and flowers, and drawn by four oxen. Such, in- deed, was the town-equipage of king Dagobert* A SKETCH OF PARIS. 7$ u Quatre Iceufs at teles, d'un pas tranquil et lent, " Promenaient dans Paris le monarque indolent" Having seated themselves on the throne, the) gave a public audience to the people, at the same time giving and receiving presents, which were called estrennes. Hence annual presents were afterwards termed etrennes, and this gave rise to the custom of making them. On this hill too fell the head of A*evuts the Seine, by which it is intersected : beyond 76 A SKETCH OF PARIS. that river, the surface of the land rises again in the form of an amphitheatre. On all sides, the prospect is bounded by eminences of various de- grees of elevation, over which, as well as over the plains, and along the banks of the river, are scattered villas, windmills, country-seats, hamlets, villages, and coppices ; but, from want of enclo- sures, the circumjacent country has not that rich and variegated aspect which delights the eye in our English rural scenery. This w T as jlways one of my favourite walks during my residence in Paris before the revolution ; and I doubt not, when you visit the French capital, that you will have the curiosity to scale the heights of Mont- mar ire. As to the theatres, concerning which you in- terrogate me, I shall defer entering into any particular detail of them, till I have made myself fully acquainted with the attractions of each : this mode of proceeding will not occasion any material delay, as I generally visit one of them every even- ing, but always endeavour to go to that house best performers are to be seen, in their best characters, and in the best pieces. I mention this, in order that you may not think me inat- tentive to your request, by having hitherto omitted to point out to you the difference between the theatrical amusements here under the monarchy, aod those of the republic, A SKETCH OP PAEIS. 77 The theatre des arts or grand French opera, the opera huffa or Italian comic opera, the theatre Fey dean or French comic opera, and the theatre Prangau, chiefly engage my attention. Yester- day evening I went to the last-mentioned theatre purposely to see Mademoiselle Cjntat, who played in both pieces. The first was Les Femmes Savantes, a comedy, in which Moliere, wishing to aim a blow at female pedantry, has, perhaps, checked, in some French women, a desire for improvement ; the second was La fausse SlgvSes, a laughable afterpiece. Notwithstanding the enormous embonpoint which this celebrated comic actress has acquired since I saw her last on the Parisian stage upwards of ten years ago, she ac- quitted herself with her accustomed excellence. I happened to sit next to a very warm admirer of her superior talents, who told me that, bulky as she w r as become, he had been highly gratified in seeing her perform at Rouen not long since, in her favourite character of Roxalane, in Les Trois Sultanes. " She was much applauded, no doubt.'* observed I. — " Not at all," replied he, u for the '[ crowd was so great, that in no part of the :c house was it possible for a man to use his " hands." 78 A SKETCH OF PARIS* LETTER X Paris, November 2, 1801* On reaching Paris, every person, whether Jew or Gentile, foreigner or not, coming from any department of the republic, except that of La Seine, in which the capital is situated, is now bound to make his appearance at the Prefecture de Police. The new-comer, accompanied by two house- keepers, first repairs to the Police-office of the arrondissement, or district, in which he has taken up his residence, where he delivers his travelling passport ; in lieu of which he receives a sort of certificate, and then he shews himself at the Pre- fecture de Police, or General Police-office, at present established in the Cite. Here, his name and quality, together with a minute description of his person and his place of abode, are inserted in a register kept for that purpose, to which he puts his signature; and a printed paper, commonly called a perrnis de sejour, is given to him, containing a duplicate of all these matters, filled up in the blanks, which he also signs himself. It is intended that he should al- ways carry this paper about him, in order that he may produce it when called on, or, in case of A SKETCH OP PARIS. 70 necessity, for verifying his person, on any parti- cular occasion, such as passing by a guard-house on foot after eleven o'clock at night, or bdbg unexpectedly involved in any affray. In a word, it answers to a stranger the same end as a carte de surete, or ticket of safety, does to an inhabi- tant of Paris. I accordingly went through this indispensable ceremony in due form on my arrival here ; but, having neglected to read a nota bene in the margin of the permis de stjour, I had not been ten hours in my new apartments before I received a visit from an Inspector of Police of the arron- dissement, who, very civilly reminding me of the omission, told me that I need not give myself the trouble of going to the Central Police-office, as he would report my removal. However, being determined to be strictly en r^gle, I went thither myself to cause my new residence to be inserted in the paper. I should not have dwelt on the circumstance, were it not to shew you the precision observed in the administration of the police of this great city. Under the old regime, every master of a ready- furnished hotel was obliged to keep a register, in which he inserted the name and quality of his lodgers for the inspection of the police-officers whenever they came : this regulation is not only 80 A SKETCH OP PARIS* strictly adhered to at present ; but every person in Paris,, who receives a stranger under his roof as an inmate, is bound, under penalty of a fine, to report him to the police, which is most vigi- lantly administered by Citizen Fouche. Last night, not being in time to find good places at the Theatre des Arts, or Grand French Opera, I went to the Theatre Louvois, which is within a few paces of it, in hopes of being more successful. I shall not at present attempt to de- scribe the house, as, from my arriving late, I was too ill accommodated to be able to view it to advantage. How r ever, I was well seated for seeing the per- formance. It consisted of three petites pieces : namely, Une heure d' absence, La petite ville, and Le cafe cVune petite ville. The first was enter- taining ; but the second much more so ; and though the third cannot claim the merit of being well put together, I shall say a few words of it, as it is a production in honour of peace, and on that score alone, would, at this juncture, deserve notice. After a few scenes somewhat languid, inter- spersed with common-place, and speeches of no great humour, a denouement, by no means inte- resting, promised not to compensate the audience for their patience. But the author of the Cafr d'une petite rille, having ' eased himself A SKETCH OF PARI3. 8! of this burden, revealed his motive, and took them on their weak side, by making a strong appeal to French enthusiasm* This cord being adroitly struck, his warmth became communicative, and animating the actors, good-humour did the rest* The accessories were infinitely more interesting than the main subject. An allemande, gracefully danced by two damsels and a hero, in the cha- racter of a French hussar^ returned home from the fatigues of war and battle, was much ap- plauded ; and a Gascoon poet, who declares that, for once in his life, he is resolved to speak truth, was loudly encored in the following couplets, adapted to the well-known air of " Gai, le coeur d la danse" <€ Celui qui nous donne la paix$ Ci Comme ilfit lien la guerre I C( Sur lui deja force couplets ... * " Mais il en reste a faire : " Au diable nous nous dounions, in about a fort- night, proceed to the congress at Amiens. On his Lordship's arrival, I thought it my duty to leave my name at his hotel, and was most agree- ably surprised to meet with a very old ac- quaintance in his military Secretary, Lieut. Col. L s. For any of the ambassador's further proceedings, I refer you to the English newspapers, which seem to anticipate all his movements. LETTER XVII. Paris, November 15, 1801. The more frequently I visit the Central Mu- seum op the Arts,, the more v am I inclined to think that such a vast number of pictures, sus- pended together, lessen each other's effect. This is the first idea which now 7 presents itself to me, whenever I enter the 1 166 A SKETCH OF PARIS, GALLERY OF THE LOUVRE. Were this collection rendered apparently less numerous by being subdivided into different apartments, the eye would certainly be less daz- zled than it is, at present, by an assemblage of so many various objects, which, though arranged as judiciously as possible, somehow convey to the mind an image of confusion. The conse- quence is that attention flags, and no single pic- ture is seen to advantage, because so many are seen together. In proportion as the lover of the arts becomes more familiarized with the choicest productions of the pencil, he perceives that there are few pictures, if any, really faultless. In some, he finds beauties, which are general, or forming, as it were, a whole, and producing a general effect; in others, he meets with particular or detached beauties, whose effect is partial : assembled, they ronstitute the beautiful : insulated, they have a merit which the amateur appreciates, and the artist ought to study. General or congregated beauties always arise from genius and talent : particular or detached beauties belong to study, to labour, that is, to the nulla die sine lined, and sometimes solely to chance, as is exemplified in the old story of Protogenes, the celebrated Bhodian painter. A SKETCH OF PARIS- 167 To discover some of these beauties, requires no extraordinary discernment ; a person of com- mon observation might decide whether the froth at the mouth of an animal, panting for breath, was naturally represented : but a spectator, pos- sessing a cultivated and refined taste, minutely surveys every part of a picture, examines the grandeur of the composition, the elevation of the ideas, the nobleness of the expression, the truth and correctness of the design, the grace scattered over the different objects, the imitation of nature in the colouring, and the masterly strokes of the pencil. Our last visit to the Central Museum ter- minated with the Italian School ; let us now con- tinue our examination, beginning with the FRENCH SCHOOL. Le Brun. N° 17. (Gallery) The Defeat of Porks. 18. The Family of Darius at the feet of Alexander. 19. The Entrance of Alexander into Babylon, The Passage of the Gr aniens. 14. Jesus asleep, or Silence. 16. The Crucifix surrounded by angels. The compositions of Le Brun are grand and rich ; his costume well-chosen, and tolerably sci- 168 A SKETCH OP PARIS. entific; the tone of his pictures well-suited to the subject. But, in this master, we must not look for purity and correctness of drawing, in an eminent degree. He much resembles Pietro da Cor- tona, Le Brun, however, has a taste more in the style of Raphael and the antique, though it is a distant imitation. The colouring of Pietro da Cortona is far more agreeable and more captivating. Among the small pictures by Le Brun, N os . 34 and 16 deserve to be distinguished; but his chefs (Toeuvre are the achievements of Alexander. When the plates from these historical paintings, engraved by Audran, reached Rome, it is re- lated that the Italians, astonished, exclaimed : u Povero Raffaello ! non sei piu il prima" But, when they afterwards saw the originals, they re~ stored to Raphael his former pre-eminence, Claude Lorraix, M° 43. (Gallery.) View of a sea-port at sun-set, 45. A Sea-piece on a fine morning. 46. A Landscape enlivened by the setting sun. The superior merit of Claude in landscape- painting is too well known to need any eulogium. The three preceding are the finest of his pictures in this collection. However, at Rome, and in England, there are some more perfect than those in the A SKJETCH OP PARIS. l6g Central Museum. One of his chefs (Tceuvre, formerly at Ptome, is now at Naples., in the Gallery of Prince Colonna. Jouvenet. N° 54. (Gallery.) Christ taken down from the cross. The above is the most remarkable picture here by this master. Mignard. N° 57. (Gallery.) The Fir gin, called La Fierge d la grahpe, because she is taking from a basket of fruit a bunch of grapes to present to, her son. Nicolas Poussin. N° 70. (Gallery.) The Fall of the manna in the desert. 7 5. Rebecca and Eleazar. 77« The Judgment of Solomon. 78. The blind Men of Jericho* 82. Winter or the Deluge. In this collection^ the above are the finest his- torical paintings of Poussin; and of his landscapes^ the following deserve to be admired. 170 A SKETCH OF PARIS, N° 76. (Gallery.) Diogenes throwing away his porringer. 83. The Death of Eurydice. Poussin is the greatest painter of the French school. His compositions bear much resemblance to those of Raphael, and to the antique; though they have not the same naivete and truth. His back-grounds are incomparable; his landscapes, in point of composition, superior even to those of Claude. His large altar-pieces are the least beautiful of his productions. His feeble colour- ing cannot support proportions of the natural size : hr these pictures, the charms of the back- ground are also wanting. Le Sueur. K° 98. (Gallery.) St Paul preaching at Ephesus. This is the chef ctoeuvre of Le Sueur, who is to be admired for the simplicity of his pencil, as well as for the beauty of his compositions. Valentino. N°1H. (Gallery.) The Martyrdom of St. Pro- cessa and St. Martinian. 1 12. Ccesars Tribute. These are the finest productions of this master, who was a worthy rival of Cakavaggio. A SKETCH OF PARIS. 171 Vernet. N° 121, (Gallery.) A Sea-port at sun-set. This painter's style is generally correct and agreeable. In the above picture he rivals Claude. We now come to the school which, of all others, is best known in England. This ex- empts me from making any observations on the comparative merits of the masters who compose it. I shall therefore confine myself to a bare mention of the best of their performances, at present ex- hibited in the Central Museum. FLEMISH SCHOOL. Rubens. N° 485. (Gallery.) St. Francis, dying, receives the sacrament. 503. Christ taken down from the cross, a ce- lebrated picture from the cathedral of Antwerp. 507. Nicholas Rockox, a burgomaster of the city of Antwerp, and a friend of Rubens. 509. The Crucifixion of St. Peter. 513. St. Roch interceding for the people at- tacked by the plague. 526. The Pillage-Festival In this repository, the above are the most re- markable productions of Rubens. A SKETCH OP PARIS* Vandyck, N°255. (Gallery.) The Mother of pity. 264. The portraits of Charles I, elector pa~ latine, and his brother, prince Robert. 265. A full-length portrait of a man holding his daughter by the hand. 266. A fall-length portrait of a lady with her son. These are •superior to the other pictures by Vandyck in this collection. Champagne. N° 216. (Gallery.) The Nuns. The history of this piece is interesting. The eldest daughter of Champagne was a nun in the convent of Port-Royal at Paris. Being reduced to extremity by a fever of fourteen months' du- ration, and given over by her physicians., she falls to prayers with another mm, and recovers her health. Crayer. N°227. (Gallery.) The Triumph of St. Catherine. Gerhard Douw. N° 234. (Gallery.) The dropsical Woman. A SKETCH OF PARIS. 173 Hans Holbein. N°3 ) Q. (Gallery.) A young woman, dressed in a yel- low veil, and ivith her hands crossed on her knees. Jordaens. N°351. (Gallery.) Twelfth-Day. 352. The Family -Concert. Adrian Van Ostade. N° 428. (Gallery.) The family of Ostade, painted by himself 430. A smoking Club, 431. The Schoolmaster, with the ferula in his hand, surrounded by his scholars. Paul Potter. N° 440. (Gallery.) An extensive pasture, ivith cattle. This most remarkable picture represents, on the fore-ground, near an oak, a bull, a ewe with its lamb, and a herdsman, all as large as life. Rembrandt. N° 457. (Gallery.) The head of a ivoman with ear-rings, and dressed in a fur-cloak. 458. The good Samaritan. 174 A SKETCH 0£ PARIS, N° 465. The Cabinet-maker's family. A66. Tobias and his family kneeling before ths angel Raphael, who disappears from his sight, after having made himself known. 469. The Presentation of Jesus in the temple* The pictures, exhibited in the Saloon of the Louvre, have infinitely the advantage of those in the Great Gallery ; the former apartment being lighted from the top; while in the latter, the light is admitted through large windows, placed on both sides, those on the one side facing the compartments between those on the other ; so that, in this respect, the master-pieces in the Gallery are viewed under very unfavourable cir- cumstances. The Gallery of the Louvre is still capable of con- taining more pictures, one eighth part of it (that next to the Tuileries), being under repair for the purpose^. It has long been a question with the French republican government, whether the palace of the Tuileries should not be connected to the Louvre, by a gallery parallel to that which borders the Seine. Six years ago, I understand, * In the great Gallery of the Loircre are suspended about nine hundred and fifty pictures j which, with ninety in the Saloon, extend the number of the present exhibition to one thousand and forty. A SKETCH OP PAEIS. the subject was agitated, and dropped again, on consideration of the state of the country in ge- neral, and particularly the finances. It is now revived; and I was told the other day, that a plan of construction had absolutely been adopted. This, no doubt, is more easy than to find the sums of money necessary for carrying on so expensive an undertaking. If the fact were true, it is of a nature to produce a great sensation in modern art, since it is af- firmed that the object of this work is to give a vast display to every article appropriated to general instruction; for, according to report, it is in- tended that these united buildings, should, in ad- dition to the National Library, contain the col- lections of statues, pictures, &c. &c. still remain- ing at the disposal of the government. I would not undertake to vouch for the precise nature of the object proposed; but it cannot be denied that, in this project, there is a boldness well calculated to flatter the ambition of the Chief Consul. However, I think it more probable that nothing, in this respect, will be positively determined in the present state of affairs. The expedition to St. Domingo will cost an immense sum, not to speak of the restoration of the French navy, which must occasion great and immediate calls for money. Whence I conclude that the erec- tion of the new Gallery, like that of the National 176 A SKETCH OF PARIS* Column, will be much talked of, but remalri among other projects in embryo, and the discussion be adjourned sine die. Leaving the Great Gallery, we return to the Saloon of the Louvre, which, being an inter- mediate apartment, serves as a point of commu- nication between it and the GALLERY OF APOLLO. The old gallery of this name, first called La petite galerie du Louvre, was constructed under the reign of Henry IV, and, from its origin, or- namented with paintings. This gallery having been consumed by fire in l66l, owing to the negligence of a workman employed in preparing a theatre for a grand ballet, in which the king was to dance with all his court, Lewis XIV im- mediately ordered it to be rebuilt and magnifi- cently decorated. Le Brun, who then directed works of this description in France, furnished the designs of all the paintings, sculpture, and ornaments, which are partly executed. He divided the vault of the roof into eleven principal compartments ; in that which is in the centre, he intended to represent Apollo in his car, with all the attributes peculiar to the Sun, which was the king's device. The Sea- sons were to have occupied the four nearest com- partments ; in the others, were to have been Even- A SKETCH OF PARIS. 177 ing ' and Morning, Night and Day-break, the Waking of the Waters, and that of the Earth at who did not think of making himself amends for the fatigues of the morning by a petit souper : these petits soupers, however, were, in latter times, carried to an excessive pitch of luxurious extra- vagance. But for refinements attempted in luxury, though, I confess, of a somewhat dis- solute nature, our countryman eclipsed all I A SKETCH OF PARIS. 215 the French bons vivans in originality of con- ception. Being in possession of an ample fortune, and willing to enjoy it according to his fancy, he purchased in Paris a magnificent house, but con- structed on a small scale, where every thing that the most refined luxury could suggest was assem- bled. The following is the account given by one of his friends, who had been an eye-witness to his manner of living. € l Mr. B had made it a rule to gratify his five senses to the highest degree of enjoyment of which they were susceptible. An exquisite table, perfumed apartments, the charms of music and painting ; in a word, every thing most enchanting that nature, assisted by art, could produce, suc- cessively flattered his sight, his taste, his smell, his hearing, and his feeling. f! In a superb saloon, whither he conducted me," says this gentleman, u were six young beauties, dressed in an extraordinary manner, whose persons, at first sight, did not appear un- known to me : it struck me that I had seen their faces more than once, and I was accordingly going to address them, when Mr. B , smiling at my mistake, explained to me the cause of it." " I have, in my amours," said he, " a particular fancy. The choicest beauty of Circassia would have no merit in my eyes, did she not resemble 216 A SKETCH OP PARIS, the portrait of some woman, celebrated in past ages : and while lovers set great value on a mi- niature which faithfully exhibits the features of their mistress, I esteem mine only in proportion to their resemblance to ancient portraits. " Conformably to this idea/' continued Mr. B ,. " I have caused the intendant of my pleasures to travel ail over Europe, with select portraits, or engravings, copied from the origi- nals. He has succeeded in his researches, as you see, since you have conceived that you recog- nized these ladies on whom you have never be- fore set your eyes; but whose likenesses you may, undoubtedly, have met with. Their dress must have contributed to your mistake : they all wear the attire of the personage they represent ; for I wish their whole person to be picturesque. By these means, I have travelled back several cen- turies, and am in possession of beauties whom time had placed at a great distance." (C Supper was served up. Mr. B seated himself between Mary, queen of Scots, and Anne Bullein. I placed myself opposite to him," con- cludes the gentleman, " having beside me Ninon de TEnclos, and Gabrielle d'Estrees. We also had the company of the fair Rosamond and Nell Gwynn ; but at the head of the table was a vacant elbow-chair, surmounted by a canopy, and destined fqr Cleopatra, who was coming from Egypt, and A SKETCH OP PARIS, 217 of whose arrival Mr- B was in hourly ex- pectation." LETTER XXL Paris, November 21, 1 80 K Often as we have heard of the extraordinary number of places of public entertainment in Paris, few, if any, persons in England have an idea of its being so considerable as it is, even at the pre- sent moment. But, in 1799; at the very time when we were told over and over again in Par- liament, that France was unable to raise the ne- cessary supplies for carrying on the war, and would, as a matter of course, be compelled not only to relinquish her further projects of aggran- disement, but to return to her ancient territorial limits; at that critical period, there existed in Paris, and its environs, no less than seventy PUBLIC PLACES OF VARIOUS DESCRIPTIONS. Under the old regime, nothing like this num- ber was ever known. Such an almost incredible variety of amusements is really a phenomenon, in the midst of a war, unexampled in its consump- tion of blood and treasure. It proves that, what- 218 A SKETCH OF PARIS. ever may have been the public distress, there was at least a great show of private opulence. Indeed^ I have been informed thai, at the period alluded to, a spirit of indifference, prodigality, and dissi- pation^ seemed to pervade every class of society. Whether placed at the bottom or the top of For- tune's wheel, a thirst of gain and want of economy were alike conspicuous among all ranks of people. Those w T ho strained every nerve to obtain riches, squandered them with equal profusion. No human beings on earth can be more fond of diversion than the Parisians. Like the Romans of old, they are content if they have but partem et circenses, which a Frenchman would render by spectacles et de quoi manger. How r ever divided its inhabitants may be on political subjects, on the score of amusement at least the Republic is one and indivisible. In times of the greatest scarcity, many a person went dinnerless to the theatre, eating whatever scrap he could procure, and con- soling himself by the idea of being amused for the evening, and at the same time saving at home the expense of fire and candle. The following list of public places, which I have transcribed for your satisfaction, was com- municated to me by a person of veracity ; and, as far as it goes, its correctness has been confirmed by my own observation. Although it falls short of the number existing here two years ago, it will A SKETCH OP PARIS. <2\Q enable you to judge of the ardour still prevalent among the Parisians, for " running at the ring of pleasure." Few of these places are shut up, except for the winter ; and new ones succeed almost daily to those which are finally closed, However, for the sake of perspicuity, I shall an- nex the letter S to such as are intended chiefly for summer amusement. 1 . Theatre des Arts, Rue de la Lou 2. Frangais, Rue de la Loi. 3. Feydeau, Rue Feydeau. 4. Louvois, Rue de Louvois. 5. — i Favart, now Opera Buffa. 6. d e l a Porte St. Martin. 7. , d e \ a Societe Olympique (late Opera Buffa.) 8. — du Vaudeville 9 Rue de Char ires. g f Montansier, Palais du Tribunal. 10. . — de FAmbigu Comique, Boulevard du Temple. ] 1 . — , — , — - d e l a Gaiete, Boulevard du Temple. 12. — des Jeunes Artistes, Boulevard $U Martin. 13. d es Jeunes Eleves, Rue de Thionville* 14. des Delassenlens Comiques, Boule* vard du Temple. 15. , „ sans Pretension, Boulevard du Tern* pie. 220 A SKETCH OP PARIS. l6. Theatre du Marais, Rue Culture Ste. Cathe- rine* — — flP In (llfp 7'/c— /7—7J7 c Jp ~Prtlni<* u>t tit \_/£t«C2 t/ia U"f to t-C Jl LtiCllo (a ~s ./?/ c/? /^/° «/ CIO ULC» ., . /7./3C yicimvp^ 1\ ii p nn rlnrn LlC J.VJLU L LL I C, JLLfA/L fJL. J. rJL LI J LI it* *m • ■■ ■■ f]p V F^ivnhndp 21 f/V \Toyciit Rt/p Si /fnfniwp *2 o, s — — a 7 es Aveugles, Rue St. Denis. 23. tie la Rue St. Jean de Beauvais. 24. Be/ inasque de V Opera, Rue de la Loi. 25. de V Optra Bujfa, Rue de la Victoire. 26. Bal du Sallon des Etr angers, Rue Grange Bateliere. 27* — - de T Hotel de S aim, Rue de- Lille, Fau- bourg St. Germain. 28. de la Rue Michaudihre. 29. Soirees amusantes de VHotel Longueville y Place du Carrousel. 30. Veillees de la Cite, vis-a-vis le Palais de Justice. 31. Phantasm agorie de Robertson, Cour des Ca* pucines. 32. Concert de Feydeau. 33. Ranelagh au hois de Boulog7ie % 34. Tivoli, Rue de Clichy, S. 35. Frascati, Rue de la Loi, S. 36. Idalie, S, A SKETCH OP PARIS* 2 21 3/. Hameau de Chantilly, aux Champs Ely sees. 38. Paphos, Boulevard du Temple. 30. Vauxhall d'hiver. 40. d'etc, S. 41. a Mousseaux, S. 42. a St. Cloud, S. 43. au Petit Trianon, S. 44. Jar din de Fhdtel Biron, Rue de Farenne,S. 45. Thelusson, Chaussee dentin, S. 46. Marboeuf, Grille de Chaillot, S. 47. <:fe I 9 hotel dHOrsay, S. 48. i%es champ Hres de Bagatelle, S. 49. Muette, 3 t entree du Bois de Boulogne, S* 50. Colisce, au Pare des Sab Ions, S. 51. Amphitheatre d" equitation de Franconi, aux Capucines. 52. Panorama, mtme lieu. 53. Exhibition de Curiius, Boulevard du Temple* 54. Experiences Physiques, au Palais du Tribunal. 55. La Chaumitre, aux Nouveaux Boulevards. 56. Cabinet de demonstration de Physiologie et de Pathologic, au Palais du Tribunat, No. 38, au premier. Although^ previously to the revolution., the taste for dramatic amusements had imperceptibly spread^ Paris could then boast of no more than three principal theatres, exclusively of V Opera Buff a, introduced in 1788. These were V Opera, 222 A SKETCH OF PARIS. les Frangais, and les Italiens, which, with six in- ferior ones, called petits spectacles, brought the whole of the theatres to ten in number. The subaltern houses were incessantly checked in their career by the privileges granted to the Comedie Frangaise, which company alone enjoyed the right to play first-rate productions : it also possessed that of censorship, and sometimes exercised it in the most despotic manner. Authors, ever in dis- pute with the comedians, who dictated the law to them, solicited, but in vain, the opening of a second French theatre. The revolution took place, and the unlimited number of theatres was presently decreed. A great many new ones were opened ; but the attraction of novelty dispersing the amateurs, the number of spectators did not always equal the expectation of the managers ; and the profits, divided among so many competi- tors, ceased to be sufficiently productive for the support of every establishment of this description. The consequence was, that several of them were soon reduced to a state of bankruptcy. Three theatres of the first and second rank have been destroyed by fire within these two years, yet upwards of twenty are at present open, almost every night, exclusively of several associations of self-denominated artistes-amateurs. Amidst this false glare of dramatic wealth, theatres of the first rank have imperceptibly cle- A SKETCH OF PAKIS. 223 cllned, and at last fallen. It comes not within my province or intention to seek the causes of this in the defects of their management ; but the fact is notorious. The Theatres Fcwart and Feydeau, at each of which French comic operas \vere chief- ly represented, have at length been obliged to unite the strength of their talents, and the dis- grace which they have experienced, has not af- fected any of those inferior playhouses where sub- altern performers establish their success on an as- semblage of scenes more coarse, and language more unpolished. At the present moment, the government ap- pear to have taken this decline of the principal theatres into serious consideration. It is, I un- derstand, alike to be apprehended, that they may concern themselves too little or too much in their Welfare. Hitherto the persons charged with the difficult task of upholding the falling theatres of the first rank, have had the good sense to confine their measures to conciliation ; but, of late, it has been rumoured that the stage is to be subjected to its former restrictions. The benefit resulting to the art itself and to the public, from a rivalship of theatres, is once more called in question: and some people even go so far as to assert that, with "the exception of a few abuses, the direction -of the Genii Is-hommes de la chambre was extremely good : thence it should seem that the only diffi- 224 A SKETCH OF PARIS. culty is to find these lords of the bed-chamber, if there be any still in being, in order to restore to them their dramatic sceptre*. Doubtless, the liberty introduced by the revo- lution has been, in many respects, abused, and in too many, perhaps, relative to places of public amusement. But must it, on that account, be entirely lost to the stage, and falling into a con- trary excess, must recourse be had to arbitrary measures, which might also be abused by those to whose execution they were intrusted ? The un- limited number of theatres may be a proper sub- ject for the interference of the government : but as to the liberty of the theatres, included in the number that may be fixed on to represent pieces of every description, such only excepted as may be hurtful to morals, seems to be a salutary and in- contestable principle. This it is that, by disengag- ing the French comic opera from the narrow 7 sphere to which it was confined, has, in a great measure, effected a musical revolution, at which all persons of taste must rejoice, by introducing on that stage the harmonic riches of Italy. This too it is * During the old regime, the theatres were under the con- trol of the Gentiis-kpmmm de la chambre ; but at the establish- ment of the directorial government, they were placed in the power of the Minister of the Interior, in whose department they have since continued. Of late, however, it is asserted,, that they are each to be under the direction of a Prefect of the Palace. A SKETCH OP PARIS. 225 that has produced, on theatres ox the second and third rank, pieces which are neither deficient in regularity, connexion, representation, nor decora- tion. The effect of such a principle was long wanted here before the revolution, when the in- dependent spirit of dramatic authors was fettered by the procrastinations of a set of privileged co- medians, who discouraged them by ungracious refusals, or disgusted them by unjust preferences. Hence, the old adage in France that, when an author had composed a good piece, he had performed but half his task; this was true, as the more difficult half, namely, the getting it read and represented, still remained to be ac- complished. As for the multiplicity of playhouses, it cer- tainly belongs to the government to limit their number, not by privileges which might be granted through favour, or obtained, perhaps, for money. The taste of the public for theatrical diversions being known, the population should first be con- sidered, as it is that which furnishes both money and spectators. It would be easy to ascertain the proportion between the population of the capital and the number of theatres which it ought to comprise. Public places should be free as to the species of amusement, but limited in their num- ber, so as not to exceed the proportion which the population can bear. The houses would then be vol. i. o, 226 A SKETCH OP PARIS. constantly well attended, and the proprietors, actors, authors, and all those concerned in their success, secure against the consequences of fail- ure, and the true interest of the art be likewise promoted. In a word, neither absolute indepen- dence, nor exclusive privilege should prevail ; but a- middle course be adopted, in order to fix the fate of those great scenic establishments, which, by forming so essential a part of public diversion, have a proportionate influence on the morals of the nation. I have been led, by degrees, into these observa- tions, not only from a review of the decline of some of the principal playhouses here, but also from a conviction that their general principle is applicable to every other capital in Europe. What, for example, can be more absurd than, in the dog-days, when room and air are particularly requisite, that the lovers of dramatic amusement in the British metropolis are to be crammed into a little theatre in the Haymarket, and stewed year after year, as in a sweating-room at a bagnio, be- cause half a century ago an exclusive privilege was inconsiderately granted ? The playhouses here, in general, have been well attended this winter, particularly the principal ones; but, in Paris, every rank has not exactly its theatre as at a ball. From the spectacles on the Boulevards to those of the first and second rank, A SKETCH OP PARIS. 227 there is a mixture of company. Formerly, the lower classes confined themselves solely to the former; at present, they visit the latter. An in- crease of wages has enabled the workman to gra- tify his inclination for the indulgence of a species of luxury; and, by a sort of instinct, he now and then takes a peep at those scenes of which he be- fore entertained, from hearsay, but an imperfect idea. If you wish to see a new or favourite piece, you must not neglect to secure a seat in proper time ; for, on such occasions, the house is full long be- fore the rising of the curtain. As to taking places in the manner we do in England, there is no such arrangement to be made, except, indeed, you choose to take a whole box, which is expensive. In that case you pay for it at the time you engage it, and it is kept locked the whole evening, or till you and your party, make your appearance # . At all the spectacles in Paris, you are literally kept on the outside of the house till you have re- ceived a ticket, in exchange for your money, through an aperture in the exterior wall. With- in a few paces of the door of the principal theatres a 2 * Independently of the boxes reserved for the officers of the staff of the city of Paris, and those at the head of the po- lice, who have individually free admission to all the spectacles on producing their ivory ticket, there is also a box at each theatre appropriated to the Minister of Public Instruction. f 228 A SKETCH OF PARIS. are two receiver's offices, which are no sooner open, than candidates for admission begin to form long ranks, extending from the portico into the very street, and advance to them two abreast in regular succession. A steady sentinel, posted at the aperture, repeats your wishes to the receiver, and in a mild, conciliating manner, facilitates their accomplishment. Other sentinels are stationed for the preservation of order, under the immediate eye of the officer, who sees that every one takes his turn to obtain tickets : however, it is not un- common, for forestallers to procure a certain number of them, especially at the representation of a new or favourite piece, and offer them pri- vately at a usurious price, which many persons are glad to pay rather than fall into the rear of the ranks. The method I always take to avoid this un- pleasant necessity, I will recommend to you as a very simple one, which may, perhaps, prevent you from many a theatrical disappointment. Having previously informed myself what spectacle is best worth seeing, while I am at dinner I send my valet de place j or if I cannot conveniently spare him, I desire him to dispatch a commissionnaire for the number of tickets wanted, so that when I arrive at the theatre, I have only to walk in, and place my- self to the best advantage. It is very wisely imagined not to establish the A SKETCH OF PA*RIS. 22C) receiver's offices in the inside of the house, as in our theatres. By this plan, however great may be the crowd, the entrance is always unobstructed, and those violent struggles and pressures, which among us have cost the lives of many, are effect- ually prevented. You will observe that no half- price is taken at any theatre in Paris; but in different parts of the house, there are offices, called bureaux de supplement, where, if you want to pass from one part of it to another, you ex- change your counter-mark on paying the difference. Nothing can be better regulated than the pre- sent police, both interior and exterior, of the theatres in Paris. The eye is not shocked, as was formerly the case, by the presence of black- whiskered grenadiers, occupying different parts of the house, and, by the inflexible sternness of their countenance, awing the spectators into a suppres- sion of their feelings. No fusileer. with a fixed bayonet and piece loaded with ball, now dictates to the auditors of the pit that such a seat must hold so many persons, though several among^ them might, probably, be as broad-bottomed as Dutchmen. If you find yourself incommoded by heat or pressure, you are at liberty to declare it without fear of giving offence. The criticism of a man of taste is no longer silenced by the arbi- trary control of a military despot, who, for an exclamation or gesture, not exactly coinciding 230 A SKETCH OF PARIS, with his own prepossessions, pointed him out to his myrmidons, and transferred him at once to prison. You may now laugh with Moleire, or weep with Racine, without having your mirth or sensibility thus unseasonably checked in its expansion. The existence of this despotism has been de- nied ; but facts are stubborn things, and I will re- late to you an instance in which I saw it most wantonly exercised. Some years ago I was pre- sent at the Theatre Frangais, when, in one of Corneille's pieces, Mademoiselle Raucourt, the tragic actress, was particularly negligent in the delivery of a passage, which, to do justice to the author, required the nicest discrimination. An amateur in the parterre reproved her, in a very gentle manner, for a wrong emphasis. ■ Be- ing at this time a favourite of the queen, she was, it seems, superior to admonition, and persisted in her misplaced shrieks, till it became evident that she set the audience at defiance : other persons then joined the former in expressing their dis- approbation. Instantly the major singled out the leading critic : two grenadiers forced their way to the place where he was seated, and conveyed him to prison for having had the audacity to reprove aif actress in favour at court. From such im- proper exercise of authority, the following verse had become a proverb : A SKETCH OF PARIS* 231 or aux belles fesses : mirrors, placed in the niches, reflect beauties which the eye could not discover. The drawing-room, another enchanting place, is of a circular form, surrounded with Ionic pillars* In the intercolumniations, are arches lined with mirrors, and ornamented with the most tasteful hangings. Under each arch is a. A SKETCH OP PARIS. 247 sopha. The ceiling represents caryatides sup- porting a circular gallery, between which are different subjects, such as the Toilet of Venus, the Departure of Adonis, &c. Every thing here is gallant and rich ; but mark the secret won- der. You pull a string; the ceiling rises like a cloud, and exhibits to view an extensive sky, with which it becomes confounded. The music of an invisible orchestra, placed above the ceiling, used to be heard through the open- ing, and produced a charming effect, when en- tertainments were given in these apartments. This is not all. You pull another string ; and, by means of concealed machinery, the aper- ture of the three casements suddenly becomes occupied by pannels of mirrors, so that you may here instantly turn day into night. The bed-chamber, the boudoir, the study, &c, are all decorated in a style equally elegant and tasteful. LETTER XXIII. Paris, November 25, 1801. Of all the public edifices in this capital, I know of none whose interior astonishes so much, at first sight, and so justly claims admira- A SKETCH OF PARIS* tion, especially from those who have a know- ledge of architecture or mechanics, as the HALLE AU BLJ5. This building is destined for the reception of corn and flour: it was begun in 17^2, on the site of the ancient Hdtel de Soissom, which was purchased by the city of Paris. In the space of three years, the hall and the circumjacent houses were finished, under the direction of the architect, Camus de Meziere. The circular form of this hall, the solidity of its construction, its insulated position, together with the noble simplicity of its decoration, per T fectly accord with the intention and character of the object proposed. Twenty-five arches, all of equal size, serve each as an entrance. On the ground-floor are pillars of the Tiiscan or r iier, supporting vast granaries, the communica- tion to which is by two st^ir-cases of well-exe- cuted design. The court is covered by a cupola pf pn$ hundred and twenty feet in diameter, forming a perfect semicircle, whose centre, taken on a, level with the cornice, is forty-four feet from the ground.. The dome of the Pantheon at Rome, which is the largest known, exceeds that pf the Halle an Ble by thirteen feet only. This cupola is entirely composed of deal boards^ A SKETCH OF PARIS. <24$ a foot in breadth, an inch in thickness, and about four feet in length. It is divided into twenty-five lateral openings, which give as many rays of light diverging from the centre-opening, whose diameter is twenty-four feet. These openings are all glazed, and the wood-work of the dome is covered with sheets of tinned copper. Philibert be l'Orme, architect to Henry II, was the original author of this new method of co- vering domes, though he never carried it into ex- ecution. As a homage for the discovery, Mo- linos and Legrand, the architects of the cupola, have there placed a medallion with his portrait. It is said that this experiment was deemed so ha- zardous, that the builder could find no person bold enough to strike away the shores, and was under the necessity of performing that task in person. To him it was not a fearful one ; but the workmen, unacquainted with the principles of this manner of roofing buildings, were astonished at the stability of the dome, when the shores were removed. No place in Paris could well be more con- venient for giving a banquet than the Halle arc Ble; twelve or fourteen hundred persons might here be accommodated at table ; and little expense would be required for decoration, as nothing can be more elegant than the cupola itself. Several periodical publications give a statement, 250 A SKETCH OF PARIS. more or less exact, of the quantity of flour lodged in this spacious repository, which is filled and emptied regularly every four or five days. But the;;e statements present not the real consumption of Paris, since several bakers draw their supply di- rectly from the farmers of the environs ; and, be- sides, a great quantity of loaves are brought into the capital from some villages, famous for making bread, whose inhabitants come and retail them to the Parisians. The annual consumption- of bread-corn in this capital has, on an average, been computed at twenty-four millions of bushels. But it is not the consumption only that it is useful to know : the most material point to be ascertained, is the method of providing effectually for it; so that, from a succession of unfavourable harvests, or any other cause, the regular supplies may not ex- perience even a momentary interruption. When it is considered that Paris contains eight or nine hundred thousand of the human race, it is evident that this branch of administration requires all the vigilance of the government. Bread is now reckoned enormously dear, nine- teen sons for the loaf of four pounds ; but, during the winter of l/'CH, the Parisians felt all the hor- rors of a real famine. Among other articles of the first necessity, bread was then so scarce, that long ranks of people were formed at the doors of the A SKETCH OP PARIS. 251 bakers' shops, each waiting in turn to receive a scanty portion of two ounces. The consumption of flour here is considerably increased by the immense number of dogs, cats, monkies, parrots, and other birds, kept by persons of every class, and fed chiefly on, bread and biscuit. No poor devil that has not in his miserable lodging a dog to keep him company: not being able to find a friend among his own species, he seeks one in the brute creation. A pauper of this description, who shared his daily bread with his faithful companion, being urged to part with an animal that cost him so much to maintain: * n order to command the naval part of an expedition to the coast of France, George II, and the whole cabinet council, seemed very much astonished at his requiring the production of a map of that part of the enemy's coast against which the expedition was intended. Neither in the apartment where the council sat, nor in any adjoining one, was any such document; even in th^ Admiralty-office no other than an in- different map of the coast could be found : as for the adjacent country, it was so little known in England, that, when the British troops landed, their com- mander was ignorant of the distance of the neigh- bouring villages. 3 A SKETCH OP PARIS, 303 Of late years, indeed, we have ordered these matters better; but, to judge from circumstances, it should seem that we are still extremely de- ficient in geographical and topographical know- ledge ; though we are not quite so ill informed as in the time of a certain duke, who, when First Lord of the Treasury, asked in v/hat part of Ger- many was the Ohio ? P. S. In order to give you, at one view, a com- plete idea of the collections of the Depdt de la guerre, and of what they have furnished during the war for the service of the government and of the armies, I shall end my letter by stating that, independently of eight thousand chosen volumes, among which is a valuable collection of atlases, of two thousand seven hundred volumes of old archives, and of upwards of nine hundred cartons or pasteboard boxes of modern original docu- ments, the Dcpdt possesses one hundred and thirty-one volumes and seventy-eight cartons of descriptive memoirs, composed at least of fifty memoirs each, four thousand seven hundred en- graved maps, of each of which there are from two to twenty-five copies, exclusively of those printed at the Depot, and upwards of seven thousand four hundred valuable manuscript maps, plans, or draw- ings of marches, battles, sieges, &c. By order of the government, it has furnished, 304 A SKETCH OF PABIS. in the course of the war, seven thousand twd hundred and seventy-eight engraved maps, two hundred and seven manuscript maps or plans, sixty-one atlases of various parts of the globe, and upwards of six hundred descriptive memoirs.' LETTER XXVIL Park, Decemher 3, ISO!. In this season, when the blasts of November have entirely stripped the trees of their few re- maining leaves, and Winter has assumed his hoary reign, the garden of the Tuileries, loses much of the gaiety of its attractions. Besides, to frequent that walk at present, is like visiting daily one of our theatres, you meet the same faces so often, that the scene soon becomes monotonous. As well for the sake of variety as exercise, I therefore now and then direct my steps along the BOULEVARDS. This h the name given to the promenades with which Paris is, in part, surrounded for an extent of six thousand and eighty-four toises. They are distinguished by the names of the Old and the New. The Old, or North Boule- A SKETCH OF. PARIS. 305 vards, commonly called the Grands Boulevards, were begun in 153(3, and, when faced with ditches, which were to have been dug, they were intended to serve as fortifications against the English who were ravaging Picardy, and threatening the capital. Thence, probably, the etymology of their name; Boulevard signifying, as every one knows, a bulwark. However this may be, the extent of these Old Boulevards is two thousand four hundred toises from the Rue de la Concorde to the Place de la Liberte, formerly the site of the Bastille. They were first planted in 1660, and are formed into three alleys by four rows of trees : the middle alley is appropriated to carriages and persons on horseback, and the two lateral ones are for foot- passengers. Here, on each side, is assembled every thing that ingenuity can imagine for the diversion of the idle stroller, or the recreation of the man of business. Places of public entertain- ment, ambulating musicians, exhibitions of dif- ferent kinds, temples consecrated to love or plea- sure, Vauxhalls, ball-rooms, magnificent hotels, and other tasteful buildings, &c. Even the coffee- houses and taverns here have their shady bowers, and an agreeable orchestra. Thus, you may al- ways dine in Paris with a band of music to enter* tain you, without additional expense. VOL. I. X 300 A SKETCH OP PARIS'. The Neio Boulevards, situated to the south* were finished in 1 76 1 . They are three thousand six hundred and eighty-three toises in extent from the Observatoire to the Hotel des Invalides. Al- though laid out much in the same manner as the Old, there is little resemblance between them; each having a very distinct appearance. On the Neiv Boulevards, the alleys are both, longer and wider, and the trees are likewise of better growth. There, the prospect is rural ; and the air pure; while cultivated fields, with growing corn, present themselves to the eye. Towards the town, however, stand several pretty houses ; little theatres even were built, but did not succeed. This was not their latitude. But some skittle- grounds and tea-gardens, lately opened, and provided with swings, &c. have attracted much company of a certain class in the summer. In this quarter, you seldom meet with a carriage, scarcely ever with persons sprucely dressed, but frequently with honest citizens, accompanied by their whole family, as plain in their garb as in their manners. Lovers too with their mistresses, who seek solitude, visit this retired walk; and now and then a poor poet comes hither, not to sharpen his appe- tite, but to arrange his numbers. Before the revolution, the Old Boulevards, from the Porte St. Martin to the . Theatre A SKETCH OF PARIS* 307 Favart, was the rendezvous of the elegantes, who, on Sundays and Thursdays, used to pa- rade there slowly, backward and forward, in their carriages, as out" belles do in Hyde Park; with this difference, that, if their admirers did tiot accompany them, they generally followed them to interchange significant glances, or in- dulge in amorous parley. I understand that the summer lounge of the modern elegantes has, of late years, been from the corner of the Rue Grange Bateliere to that of the Rue Mont- Blanc, where the ladies took their seats. This attracting the muscadins in great num- bers* not long since obtained for that part of the Boulevard the appellation of Petit Coblenlz. Nearly about the middle of the North Boule* vard stand two edifices, which owe their erec- tion to the vanity of Lewis XIV. In the gratification of that passion did the Grand Mo* narque console himself for his numerous de- feats and disappointments; and the age in which he lived being fertile in great men, owing, undoubtedly* to the encouragement he afford- ed them, his display of it was well seconded by their superior talents* Previously to his reign, Paris had several gates, but some of these being taken down, arcs of triumph, in imita- tion of those of the Romans, were erected in their stead by Louis le Grand, in commemoration of % 2 308 A SKETCH OF PARIS, his exploits. And this too, at a time tvhen the allies might, in good earnest, have marched to Paris, had they not, by delay, given Marshal Villars an opportunity of turning the tide of their victories on the plain of Denain. Such was the origin of the PORTE SAINT DENIS. The magnificence of its architecture classes it among the first public monuments in Paris, It consists of a triumphal arch, insulated in the manner of those of the ancients : it is seventy- two feet in diameter as well as in elevation, and was executed in 1 672, by Bullet from the designs of Blondel. On each side of the principal entrance rise two sculptured pyramids, charged with trophies of arms, both towards the faubourg, and towards the city. Underneath each of these pyramids is a small collateral passage for persons oil foot The arch is ornamented with two bas- reliefs: the one facing the city represents the passage of the Rhine; and the other, the cap- ture of Maestricht. On the frieze on both sides Lraovrco Magno was formerly to be read, in large cha- racters of gilt bronze. This inscription is re- moved, and to it are substituted the word Jjihert£> Egalite, Fraternity A SKETCH OF PAKJS, 3og On arriving from Calais, you enter Paris by the Porte St. Denis. It was also by the Porte St. Denis that kings and queens made their public entry. On these occasions, the houses in all the streets through which they passed, were decorated with silk hangings and tapestry, as far as the ca- thedral of Notre-Dame. Scented waters per- fumed the air in the form of jets d'eau ; while wine and milk flowed from the different pub- lic fountains. Froissard relates that, on the entrance of Isabeau de Baviere, there was in the Rice St. Denis a representation of a clouded heaven, thickly sown with stars, whence descended two angels who gently placed on her head a very rich crown of gold, set with precious stones, at the same time singing verses in her praise. It was on this occasion that Charles VI, anxious for a sight of his intended bride, took a fancy to mix in the . crowd, mounted on horseback behind Savoisi, his favourite. Pushing forward in order to approach her, he received from the Serjeants posted to keep off the populace several sharp blows on the shoul- ders, which occasioned great mirth in the eve- ping, when the circumstance was related before the queen and her ladies. Proceeding along the Boulevard towards th6 310 A SKETCH OF PARIS. east, at a short distance from the Porte St. Denis, you arrive at the PORTE SAINT MARTIN. Although this triumphal arch cannot be com- pared to the preceding in magnificence, it was nevertheless executed by the same artists; hav- ing been erected in 1674. It is pierced with three openings, the centre one of which is eighteen feet wide, and the two others nine. The whole structure, which is fifty-four feet both in height and breadth, is rusticated, and in the spandles of the arch are four bas-reliefs; the two towards the city represent the capture of Besan(]on, and the rupture of the triple alliance ; and those towards the faubourg, the capture of Lomberg, and the defeat of the Germans under the emblem of an eagle repulsed by the god of war. These bas-reliefs are crowned by an enta- blature of the Doric order, surmounted by an attic. The Porte St. Martin is the grand en- trance into Paris from all parts of Flanders. At the west extremity of this North Boulevard, facing the Rue de la Concorde, stands an un- finished church, called La Magdeleine, whose cemetery received not only the bodies of Lewis XVI, his consort, and his sister^ but of the A SKETCH OF PARIS. 311 greater part of the victims that perished by the guillotine. In the space comprised between La Magdeleine and the Vieille Rue du Temple, I speak within compass when I say that there are sometimes to be seen fifty ambulating conjurers of both sexes. They all vary the form of their art. Some have tables, surmounted by flags, bearing mysterious devices; some have wheels, with compartments adapted to every age and profession One has a robe charged with hieroglyphics, and tejls you your fortune through a long tube which con- veys the sound to your ear ; the other makes you choose, in a parcel, a square piece of white paper, which becomes covered with characters at the moment when it is thrown into a jug that appears empty. The secret of this is as follows: The jug contains a little sulphuret of potash, and the words are written with acetite of lead. The action of the exterior air, on the sulphuret of potash, disengages from it sulphurated hydrogen gas, which, acting on the oxyd of lead, brings to view the characters that before were invisible. Here, the philosophic Parisians stop before the moveable stall of an astrologer, who has sur- mounted it with an owl, as an emblem of his magic wisdom. Many of them take this animal for a curiosity imported from foreign countries : VOL. I. X 4 312 A SKETCH OF PARIS. for they are seldom able to distinguish a bat from a swallow. " Does that bird come from China, my dear?'* says a lusty dame to her elderly husband, a shop- keeper of the Rue St. Denis. — 99 I don't know, 9 f my love/' replies the other. — " What eyes it 99 has got," continues she; ff it must see a great 49 deal better than we." 99 No," cries a country-** man standing by; f though its eyes are so big, 99 it can't, in broad day, tell a cow from a calf." The lady continues her survey of the scientific repository; and the conjurer, with an air of im- portance, proposes to her to draw, for two sous, a motto from Merlin's wheel. 99 Take one, my 99 dear," says the husband; 9X I wish to know 99 whether you love me." The wife blushes and hesitates; the husband insists; she refuses, and is desirous of continuing her walk, saying that it is all foolishness. — u What if it is?" rejoins the hus- band, 99 I've paid, so take a motto to please me." For this once, the lady is quite at a nonplus; she at last consents, and, with a trembling hand, -draws a card from the magic wheel : the husband unrolls it with eagerness and confidence, and reads these words: 99 My young lover is and will 99 be constant." — 99 "What the devil does this " mean?" exclaims the old husband, quite dis- concerted. — 99 'Tis a mistake," says the conjurer ; A SKETCH OP PARIS. 313 * the lady put her hand into the wrong box ; she Cf drew the motto from the wheel for yoimg " girls, instead of that for married zvomen. Let * Madame draw again, she shall pay nothing 9 more." — u No, Mr. Conjurer/' replies the shopkeeper, " that's enough. I've no faith in « such nonsense ; but another time, madam, take " care that you don't put your hand into the " wrong box." The fat lady, with her face as red as fire, follows her husband, who walks off grumbling, and it is easy to see, by their gestures, that the fatal motto has sown discord in the fa- mily, and confirmed the shopkeeper's suspicions. Independently of these divers into futurity, the corners of streets and walls of public squares, are covered with hand-bills announcing books con- taining secrets, sympathetic calculations of num- bers in the lottery, the explanation of dreams in regard to those numbers, together with the dif- ferent manners of telling fortunes, and interpreting prognostics. At all times, the marvellous has prevailed over simple truth, and the Cumaean Sibyl at- tracted the inquisitive in greater crowds than Socrates, Plato, or any philosopher, had pupils in the whole course of their existence. In Paris, the sciences are really making a rapid progress, notwithstanding the fooleries of the 314 A SKETCH OP PARIS. pseudo-philosophers, who parade the streets, and here, on the Boulevards, as well as in other parts of the town, exhibit lessons of physics. One has an electrifying machine, and phials filled with phosphorus: for two sous, he gives you a slight shock, and makes you a pre- sent of a small phial. Farther on, you meet with a camera obscura, whose effect surprises the spectators the more, as the objects represented within it have the motion which they do riot find in common optics. There, you see a double refracting telescope: for two sous, you enjoy its effect. At either end, you place any object whatever, and though a hat, a board, or a child be introduced be- tween the two glasses, the object placed ap- pears not, on that account, the less clear and distinct to the eye of the person looking through the opposite glass. Pierre has seen, and can- not believe his eyes: Jacques wishes to see, and, on seeing, is in ecstacy : next comes Fanchon, who remains stupified. Enthusiasm becomes general, and • the witnesses of their delirium are ready to go mad at not having two stilus in their pocket. Another fellow, in short, has a microscope, of which he extols the beauty, and, above all/ A SKETCH OF PARIS* 315 the effects : he will not describe the causes which produce them, because he is unacquainted with them; but, provided he adapts his lessons to the understanding of those who listen to him, this is all he wants. Sometimes he may be heard to say to the people about him : " Gentlemen, give me a creeping insect, and " for one sou, I will shew it to you as big as " my fist." Sometimes too, unfortunately for him, the insect which he requires is more easily found among part of his auditors, than the money, P. S. For the preceding account of the Pa- risian conjurers I am indebted to M. Pujoulx* LETTER XXVIII. Paris, December 4, 1 802. In one of your former letters you questioned me on a subject, which, though it had not escaped my notice, I was desirous to avoid, till I should be able to obtain on it some precise information. This I have done; and I hasten to present you with the following sketch, which will afford you a tolerably-correct idea of the 3lG A SKETCH OF FAKIS. FRENCH FUNDS, AND NATIONAL DEBT. The booked or consolidated debt is called TIERS CONSOLIDE, from its being the consolidated third of the national debt, of which the remaining two- thirds were reimbursed in Bom de deux Tiers in 1797 and §8, It bears interest at five per Cent, payable half yearly at the Banque de France. The payment of the interest is at present six months in arrear. But the intention of the government is, by paying off in specie the interest of one wholq year, to pay in future as soon as clue. The days of payment are the 1st of Ger- minal (23d of March) and the 1st of Vende- jpniaire (23d of September). This stock purchased at the present price of from 55 to Co would produce from eight to nine per cent. The general opinion is^ that it will rise to 80; and as it is the chief stock, and the standard of the national credit, it is the interest, and must be the constant object of the government to keep up its price. There is a Czisse d'amortisscmevt or Sinking A SKETCH OF PARIS, 317 Fund, for the special purpose of paying off this stock, the effect of which* though not ex- actly known, must shortly be very considerable. The Tiers Consolide is saleable and transferable at a moment's warning, and at a trifling ex-> pense. It is not subject to taxation, nor open to attachments, either on the principal or interest. For purchasings no sort of formality is re- quired; but for receiving interest, or selling, it is necessary to produce a power of attorney. An established rule is, that the seller always re- tains his right to half a year's interest at the succeeding stated period of payment, so that he who purchases in the interval between March and September, is entitled to the interest commencing from the 23d of the latter month only; and lie who buys between September and March, re- ceives not his first dividend till the 23d of the following September. TIERS PROVISOIRE. This is the debt, yet unbooked, which is com- posed of the provisional claims of the creditors of the emigrants, the contractors, and various other holders of claims on the government. The Tiers Provisoire is to be booked before the 1 st of Vendemiaire, year XII of the Republic (23d of September, 1 803), and will from that day bear interest of five per cent ; so that, setting 3 318 A SKETCH OF PARIS, aside the danger of any retrospect in the interval? and that of any other change, it is at the present price., of from 45 to 50, cheaper than the Tien Consolide, to which, in about eighteen months, it will, in every respect, be assimilated. BONS DE DEUX TIERS, Is paper issued for the purpose of reimbursing the reduced two-thirds of the National Debt, and in the origin rendered applicable to the purchase of national houses and estates in the; French Co- lonies, since ordered to be funded at five per cent ; so that the price of this species of paper is entirely subordinate to that of the Tiers Con- solicit', and supposing that to be 60 francs per cent, the Bon de deux Tiers would be worth 3 francs. There are no hopes, however distant, that the government will ever restore the Bom de deux Tiers to their original value. BONS DE TROIS QUARTS, So called from having been issued for the pur- pose of reimbursing the three-fourths of the in - terest of the fifth and sixth years of the Republic (1797 to 179S). They are, in all respects, assi- milated to the preceding stock. ..COUPONS D'EMPKUNT FORCE. These are the receipts given by the govern- A SKETCH OP PARIS. 319 inent to the persons who contributed to the various forced loans. This paper is likewise assi- milated to the two last-mentioned species, with this difference, that it is generally considered as a less sacred 'claim, and is therefore liquidated with greater difficulty. The holders of these three claims are hastening the liquidation and consolidation of them, and they are evidently right in so doing. QUARTS AU NOM ET QUART NUMERAIRE. This paper is thus denominated from its hav- ing been issued for the purpose of reimbursing the fourth of the dividend of the fifth and sixth years of the Republic (l?Q7 to 1708), It is generally thought that this very sacred claim on the government will be funded in to to. R ACHATS DE RENTE, / Is the name given to the redemption of per- petual annuities • due by individuals to the go- vernment, on a privileged mortgage on landed estates; the said annuities having been issued by the government in times of great distress, for the purpose of supplying immediate and urgent events. This paper is not only a mere government security, but is also specially mortgaged on the 320 A SKETCH Ofc ft£ffi& estates of the person who owes the annliity td the government, and who is, at any time, at liberty to redeem it at from twenty to twenty- five years purchase. Claims of this description, mortgaged on most desirable estates near the metropolis, might be obtained for less than 60 per cent ; which, at the interest of five per cent, and with the additional advantage, in some in-' stances; of the arrears of one or two years, would produce between eight and nine per cent. Next to the Tiers ConsoHdc, Rachats de Rente are particularly worthy of attention ; indeed, this debt is of so secure and sacred a nature, that the government has appropriated a considerable part of it to the special purpose and service of the hospitals and scho6ls ; two species of institutions which ought ever to be sheltered from all vicissitudes, and which, whatever may be the form or character of the government, must be supported and respected. ACTIONS DE LA BANQUE DE FRANCE. These are shares in the National Bank of France, which are limited to the number of thirty thousand, and were originally worth one thousand francs each; they therefore form a capital of 30,000,000 francs, or £ J, 250,000 sterling, and afford as follows: A SKETCH OF PARIS. 321 1. A dividend which at present, and since the foundation/ has averaged from eight to ten per cent, arising from the profits on discount, 2. A profit of from four to five per cent more on the discount of paper, which every holder of an action or share effects at the Bank, at the rate of one-half per cent per month, or six per cent for the whole year. The present price of an action is about twelve hundred francs, which may be considered as pro- ducing : 80 francs ; dividend paid by the Bank on each share. 30 francs ; certain profits according to the present discount of biHs. 1 10 francs; per share 10l? per cent Actions cle la Banque de France, though sub- ject, in common with all stocks, to the influence of the government, are, however, far more in- dependent of it than any other, and are the more secure, as the National Bank is not only com- posed of all the first bankers, but also supported by the principal merchants in the country. This investment is at present very beneficial, and cer* tainly promises great eventual advantages. The cjividends are paid in two half-yearly instalments, VOL. I. Y 322 A SKETCH OF PARIS* ACTIONS DE LA CAISSE DE COMMERCE, ACTIONS DU COMPTOIR COMMERCIAL. The Caisse de Commerce and the Comptoir Commercial are two establishments on the same plan, and affording, as nearly as possible, the same advantages as the Banque de France : the only difference is as follows : 3 . These last two are, as far as any commercial establishment can be, independent of the go- vernment, and are more so than the Banque de France, as the actions or shares are not con- sidered as being a public fund. % The Actions de la Caisse de Commerce limited m number to two thousand four hundred, ori- ginally cost 5000 francs, and are now worth DOOO. The holder of feach action moreover, sigias circulating notes to the amount of five thousand francs, which form the paper currency of the Bank, and for the payment of which the said holder would be responsible, were the Bank to stop payment. 3. The Actions du Comptoir Commercial are still issued by the administrators of the establish- ment. The number of actions is not as yet li~ 3 A SKETCH OP PARIS, 323 mited: the price of each action is fifteen hun- dred francs (circa ^60 sterling), and the plan and advantages are almost entirely similar to those of the two last-mentioned institutions. The Baiique de France, the Caisse de Com- nnerce> and the Contptoir Commercial, discount three times aweek. The first, the paper of the banking-houses and the principal com- mercial houses holding bank-stock; the second, the paper of the wholesale merchants of every class ; and the third, the paper of retailers of all descriptions; and in a circulation which amounts to 100 millions of francs (circa 4 millions ster- ling) per month, there have not, it is said, been seen, in the course of the last month, protests to the amount of 20,000 francs. BONS DE L'AN VII ET DE VAN VIII, Is a denomination applied to paper, issued for the purpose of paying the dividend of the debt during the seventh and eighth years of the Re- public. These Bons are no farther deserving of no- tice than as they still form a part of the floating debt, and are an article of the sup- posed liquidation at the conclusion of the pre- sent summary. It is therefore unnecessary to i-ay more of them, y % 324 A SKETCH OF PARIS. ARREARAGES DES ANNEES V ET VI. These are the arrears clue to such holders of •stock as, during the fifth and sixth years of the Republic/ had not their dividend paid in Bons de trois Quarts and Quart Numeraire, mentioned in Art. IV and VI of this sketch, I also notice them as forming an essential part of the above-mentioned supposed liquidation, at the end of the sketch, and shall only add that it is the general opinion that they will be funded. To the preceding principal investments and claims on the government, might be added the following: Coupes de Bois. CMules HypotMcaires. Rescriptions de Domalnes Nationaucc* Actions de la, Cause des Rentiers, mictions des hides. Bons de Moines et Religieuses* Obligations de Receveur. However, they are almost entirely unworthy of attention, and afford but occasionally open- ings for speculation. Of the last, (Obligations de Receveur) it may be necessary to observe that they are monthly acceptances issued by the Re- ceivers-General of all the departments, which the government has given to the five bankers, charged with supplying money for the current A SKETCH OP PARIS. 325 service, as security for their advances, and which are commonly discounted at from -f to one per cent per month. I shall terminate this concise, though accu- rate sketch of the French funds by a general statement of the National Debt, and by an account of an annuity supposed to be held by a foreigner before the revolution, and whichj to become Tiers Consolicte, must undergo the regular process of reduction and liquidation, National Debt, Francs. Consolidated Stock (Tiers ConsolideJ 38,750,000 Floating Debt, to be consolidated, about .... 23,000,000 Life Annuities 20,000,000 Ecclesiastical, Military, and other Pensions , . 19,000,000 100,750,000 The value of a franc is something more-* than \od. English money: according to I which calculation, the National Debt of { £ 4,000,000 France is in round numbers no more than J Supposed liquidation of an annuity of t £ 1 00. sterling, or 2,400 livres tournois held by a fo- reigner before the war and yet unliquidated. Francs* Original Annuity ♦ U'j\ 2,400 Tiers Consolide 1 Bans de deux Tiers , , . . f ^> 400 32S A SKETCH OF PARIS. The actual value of the whole, including the arreared dividends up to the present day is as follows ; Francs, Tiers Consolide as above, 800 francs sold at 60 francs 9,600 Bonsdedenx Tiers, ditto l600 at 3 . . , , • 48 Arrears from the first year of the Repub- lic to the fifth ditto (23d of September, 1792 to the 23d of September, 1797) are to be paid in Assignats, and are of no value. Arrears of the fifth and sixth years supposed to-, be liquidated so as to afford 25 per cent of > 600 their nominal value, about * . f Arrears in Bans for the year VII, valued at 50 1 . J f 400 per cent loss . . . . . . J Arrears of the year VIII, due in Bans, valued •> , r 600 at 25 per cent loss Arrears of the year IX, due in specie , . . . 800 Arrears of the year X, of which three months 7 are nearly elapsed ...... f J Total of the principal and interest of an original ^ annuity of 2,400 livres, reduc'ed (according/- J2,24S to law) to 800 ^ Or in sterling, circa £ 500 I had almost forgot that you have asked me more than once for an explanation of the ex- act value of a modern franc. The following you may depend on as correct. A SKETCH OF PARIS. 327 The unite monttaire is a piece of silver of the weight of five grammes, containing a tenth of alloy and nine tenths of pure silver. It is called Franc, and is subdivided into Dtcimes, and Centimes: its value is to that of the old livre tournois in the proportion of 81 to 80. Value in Mures toutnois, Jiv. sous, deniers. Franc 1 0 3 Decime 2 0.3 Centime 2.43 LETTER XXIX. Paris, December 7, 1801. At the grand monthly parade of the 15th of last Brumaire, I had seen the First Consul chiefly on horseback : on which account, I determined to avail myself of that of the loth of the present month of Frimaire, in order to obtain a nearer view of his person. Oi> these occasions, none but officers in complete uniform are admitted into the palace of the Tuileries, unless provided with tickets, which are distributed to a certain number at the discretion of the governor. General A *"* - * — y sent me tickets by ten o'clock this 328 A SKETCH OF PARIS. morning, and about half after eleven, I repaired to the palace. On reaching the vestibule from the garden of the Tuileries, you ascend the grand stair-case to the left, which conducts you to the guard-room above it in the centre pavilion. Hence you enter the apartments of the Chief Consul. On the days of the grand parade, the first room is destined for officers as low as the rank of cap- tain, and persons admitted with tickets ; the se- cond, for field-officers; the third, for generals; and the fourth, for councellors of state, and the diplomatic corps. To the east, the windows of these apartments command the court-yard where the troops are assembled; while to the west, they afford a fine view of the garden of the Tuileries and the avenue leading to the Barribre de CliaiU lot. In the first-room, those windows which overlook the parade were occupied by persons standing five or six in depth, some of whom, as I was informed, had been patient enough to retain their places for the space of two or three hours, and among them were a few ladies. Here, a sort of lane was formed from door to door by some grenadiers of the consular guard. I found both sides of this lane so much crowded, that I readily accepted the invitation of a chef de bri- gade of my acquaintance to accompany him into the second room ; this, he observed, was no more A SKETCH OF PARIS* 32Q than a privilege to which I was entitle*!. This room was also crowded; but it exhibited a most brilliant cozip $ml from the great variety and richness of the uniforms of the field-officers here assembled, by which mine was entirely eclipsed. The lace aqd embroidery is not merely confined to the coats, jackets, and pantaloons, but extends to the sword belts, and even to the boots, which are universally worn by the military. Indeed, all the foreign ambassadors admit that none of the levees of the European courts can vie in splendour with those of the Chief Consul. My first care on entering this room, was to place myself in a situation which might afford me an uninterrupted view of Bonaparte. About; twenty-five minutes past twelve, his sortie was announced by a hitissier. Immediately after, he came out of the inner apartment, attended by se- veral officers of rank, and, traversing all the other rooms with a quick step, proceeded, uncovered, to the parade, the order of which I have described to you in a former letter. On the present occa- sion, however, it lasted longer on account of the distribution of arms of honour, which the First Consul presents with his own hand to those heroes who have signalized themselves in fkrhta ing their country's battles. This part of the ceremony, which was all that I saw of the parade yesterday, naturally revived in 330 A SKETCH OF PARIS. my mind the following question, so often agi- tated: " Are the military successes of the French the consequences of a new system of operations and new tactics, or merely the effect of the blind courage of a mass of men, led on by chiefs whose resolutions were decided by presence of mind alone and circumstances ?" The latter method of explaining their victo- ries has been frequently adopted, and the French generals have been reproached with lavishing the lives of thousands for the sake of gaining unim- portant advantages, or repairing inconsiderable faults. 1 Sometimes, indeed, it should seem that a mur- derous obstinacy has obtained them successes to which prudence had not paved the way; but, certainly, the French can boast, too, of memorable days when talent had traced the road to courage, when vast plans combined with judgment, have been followed with perseverance, when resources have been found in those awful moments in which Victory, hovering over a field of carnage, leaves the issue of the conflict doubtful, till a sudden thought, a ray of genius, inclines her in favour of the general, thus inspired, and then art may be said to" triumph over art, and valour over valour. And whence came most of these generals who have shewn this inspiration, if I may so term it ? A SKETCH OP PARIS. 331 Some, as is well known., emerged from the schools of jurisprudence; some, from the studies of the arts; and others, from the counting- houses of commerce, as well as from the lowest ranks of the army. Previously to the revo- lution, it was not admitted, in this country at least, that such sources could furnish men fit to be one day the arbiters of battles and of the fate of empires. Till that period, all those Frenchmen who had distinguished themselves in the field, had devoted themselves from their infancy to the profession of arms, were born near the throne of which they constituted the lustre, or in that cast who arrogated to themselves the exclusive right of defending their country. The glory of the soldier was not considered ; and a private must have been more than a hero to be as much re- marked as a second lieutenant. Men of reflection, seeing the old tactics fail against successful essays, against enthusiasm whose effects are incalculable, studied whether new ideas did not direct some new means; for it would have been no less absurd to grant all to valo;ir than to attribute all to art. But to return to the main subject of my letter. In about three quarters of an hour, Bqnapakte came back from the parade, with the same suite as before, that is, preceded by his aides-de-camp, and followed by the generals and field-officers of 332 A SKETCH OF PARIS. the consular guard, the governor of the palace, the general commanding the first military divi- sion, and him at the head of the garrison of Paris. For my part, I scarcely saw any one but himself; Bonaparte alone absorbed my whole attention. A circumstance occurred which gave me an* opportunity of observing the Chief Consul with- critical minuteness. I had left the second room, and taken my station in front of the row of ga- zers, close to the folding-doors which opened into the first room, in order to see him receive petitions and memorials. There was no occasion* for Bonaparte to cast his eyes from side to side, like the Grand Monar que corning from mass, by way of inviting petitioners to approach him. They presented themselves in such numbers that, after he put his hat under his arm, both his hands were full in a moment. To enable him to receive other petitions, he was under the necessity of delivering the first two handfuls to his aides-de- camp. I should like to learn what becomes of all these papers, and whether he locks them up in a little desk of which he alone has the key, as Was the practice of Lewis XIV. When Bonaparte approached the door of the second room, he was effectually impeded in his progress by a lady, dressed in white, who, throw- ing herself at his feet, gracefully presented to A SKETCH OP PARIS. 333 liim a memorial, which he received with much apparent courtesy; but still seemed, by his manner, desirous to pass forward. However, the crowd was so considerable and so intent on view- ing this scene, that the grenadiers, posted near the spot where it took place, were obliged to use some degree of violence before they could succeed in clearing a passage. Of all the portraits which yptl and I have seen of Bonaparte in England, that painted by Mas- querier, and exhibited in Piccadilly, presents the greatest resemblance. But for his side-face, you may, for twelve sous, here procure a per- fect likeness of it at almost every stall in the street. In -short, his features are such as may, in my opinion, be easily copied by any artist of moderate abilities. However incompetent I may be to the task, I shall, as you desire it, at- tempt to sketch his person; though I doubt not that any French commis, in the habit of describing people by words, might do it greater justice. Bonaparte is rather below the middle size, somewhat inclined to stoop, and thin in per- son; but, though of a slight make, he appears to be muscular, and capable of fatigue; his forehead is broad, and shaded by dark brown hair, which is cut short behind; his eyes, of the same colour, are full, quick, and prominent; 334 A SKETCH OF PAMS. his nose is aquiline; his chin, protuberant afte! pointed; his complexion, of a yellow hue; and his cheeks, hollow. His countenance, which is of a melancholy cast, expresses much sagacity and reflection; his manner is grave and deliberate, but at the same time open. On the whole, his aspect announces him to be of a temperate and phlegmatic disposition; but warm and tena* cious in the pursuit of his object, and impa- tient of contradiction. Such, at feast, is the judgment which I should form of Bonaparte from his external appearance. While I was surveying this man of universal talent, my fancy was not idle* First, I beheld him, flushed with ardour, directing • the assault of the tke^ck-pont at Lodi; next dictating a proclamation to the Beys at Cairo, and styling himself the friend of the faithful; then com- bating the ebullition of his rage on being foiled in the storming of Acre. I afterwards imagined I saw him like another Cromwell, expelling the Council of Five Hundred at St. Cloud, and seizing on the reins of government: when esta- blished in power, I viewed him, like Hannibal* crossing the Alps, and forcing victory to yield to him the hard-contested palm at Marengo ; lastly, he appeared to my imagination in the act of giving the fraternal embrace to Caprara, the Pope's A SKETCH OF PARIS. 335 legate, and at the same time holding out to the see of Rome the re-establishment of Catho- licism in France. Voltaire says that cf no man ever was a hero in the eyes of his valel-de-chambre" I am curious to know whether the valet of the First Consul be an exception to this maxim. As to Bonaparte's public character, numerous, indeed, are the constructions put on it by the voice of rumour: some ascribe to him one great man of antiquity as a model; some, another; but many compare him, in certain respects, to Ju- lius Caesar. Now, as imitators generally suc- ceed better in copying the failings than the good qualities of their archetypes, let us hope, supposing this comparison to be a just one, that the Chief Consul will, in one particular, never lose sight of the generous clemency of that il- lustrious Roman— who, if any spoke bitterly agairfst him, deemed it sufficient to complain of the circumstance publicly, in order to prevent them from persevering in the use of such lan- guage. iC Acerbc loquehiibiis satis habuit pro " condone denunciare, ne perseverarent" " The character of a great man/' says a French political writer, who denies the justness of this comparison, " like the celebrated picture of Zeuxis, can be formed only of a multitude of u imitations, and it is as little possible for the 336 A SKETCH OF PARIS. " observer to find for him a single model in his* ? tory, as it was for the painter of Heraelea to " discover in nature that of the ideal beauty he " was desirous of representing — The French " revolution/' observes the same author, a little farther on, " lias, perhaps, produced more than " one C^sar, or one Cromwell; but they have " disappeared before they have had it in their %Q power to give full scope to their ambition Tune will decide on the truth and impartiality of these observations of M. Hauterive. As at the last monthly parade, Bonaparte was habited in the consular dress, that is, a coat of scarlet velvet, embroidered with gold: he wore jockey boots, carelessly drawn over white cotton pantaloons, and held in his hand a cocked hat, with the national cockade only. I say only, because all the generals wear hats trimmed with a splendid lace, and decorated with a large, branching, tricoloured feather. After the parade, the following, I understand, i3 the etiquette usually observed in the palace. The Chief Consul first gives audience to the general- officers, next to the field-officers, to those be- longing to the garrison, and to a few petitioners. He then returns to the fourth apartment, where * Dc VEtat dc la Franc*, d la fin dc Van VIII, page 270. f Ibid, page 27 4, A SKETCH OP PARIS. 33? the counsellors of state assemble. Being arrived there, notice is sent to the diplomatic corps., who meet in a room on the ground-floor of the palace, called La Salle des Ambassadeurs. They immediately repair to the levee-room, and, after paying their personal respects to the First Consul, they each introduce to him such persons, belonging to their respective nations, as they may think proper. Several were this day pre- sented by the Imperial, Russian, and Danish ambassadors : the British minister, Mr. Jackson, has not yet presented any of his countrymen* nor will he, in all probability, as he is merely a locum tenens. After the levee, the Chief Consul generally gives a dinner of from one hundred and fifty to two hundred covers, to which all those who have received arms of honour, are invited. Before I left the palace, I observed the lady above-mentioned, who had presented the memo- rial, seated in one corner of the room, all in tears, and betraying every mark of anxious grief: she was pale, and with her hair dishevelled; but, though by no means handsome, her distressed situation excited a lively interest in her favour. On inquiry, I was informed that it was Madame Bourmont, the wife of a Vendean chief, con- demned to perpetual imprisonment for a breach of the convention into which he had jointly en- tered with the agents of the French government vol. i, z 338 A SKETCH OF PARIS, Having now accomplished rhy object, when the crowd was somewhat dispersed, I retired to enjoy the fine weather by a walk in the CHAMPS ELYSEES. After traversing the garden of the Tuileries and. the Place de la Concorde, from east to west, you arrive at this fashionable summer promenade. It is planted with trees in quincunx; and ' al- though, in particular points of view, this gives it a symmetrical air; yet, in others, the hand of art is sufficiently concealed to deceive the eye by a representation of the irregular beauties of na- ture. The French, in general, admire the plan of the garden of the Tuileries, and think the dis- tribution tasteful; but, when the trees are in leaf, all prefer the Champs FAysees, as being more rural and more inviting. This spot, which 4$ very extensive, as you may see by the Plan of Paris, has frequently been chosen for the scene of national fetes, for which it is, in many respects* better calculated than the Champ de Mars* • However, from its proximity to the great road, the foliage is imbrowned by the dustv and an idea of aridity intrudes itself on the- imagination from the total absence of water. The sight of that refreshing element recreates the mind, and communicates a powerful attrac- tion even to a wilderness. A SKETCH OF PARIS. 33() In fact, at this season of the year, the Champs Ely sees resemble a desert; but, in summer, they present one of the most agreeable scenes that can be imagined. In temporary buildings, of a tasteful construction, you then find here restau- rateurs;, &c, where all sorts of refreshments may be procured, and rooms where R the merry dance" is kept up with no common spirit. Swings and roundabouts are also erected, as well as different machines for exercising the address of those who are fond of running at a ring, and other sports. Between the road lead- ing to FEtoile, the Bois de Boulogne, &c, and that which skirts the Seine, formerly called the Conrs de la Reine, is a large piece of turf, where, in fine weather, and especially on Sun- days, the Parisian youths amuse themselves at foot-ball, prison-bars, and long tennis. Here, too, boys and girls assemble, and improve their growth and vigour by dancing, and a variety of health- ful diversions; while their relations and friends, seated on the grass, enjoy this interesting sight, and form around each group a circle which is presently increased by numbers of admiring spectators. Under the shade of the trees, on the right band, as you face the west, an immense con- course of both sexes and all ages is at the same time collected. Those who prefer sitting 340 A SKETCH OF PARIS. to walking occupy three long rows of chairs,, set out for hire, three deep on each side, and forming a lane through which the great body of walkers parade. This promenade may then be said to deserve the appellation of Ely si an Fields, from the number of ^handsome women who resort hither. The variety of their dresses and figures, the satisfaction which they express ill seeing and being seen, their anxious desire to please, which constitutes their happiness and that of our sex, the triumph which animates the countenance of those who eclipse their rivals; all this forms a diversified and amusing picture, which lixes attention, and gives birth to a thousand ideas respecting the art and coquetry of women, as well as what beauty loses or gains by adopting the ever-varying caprices of fashion. Here, on a fine summer's evening, are now to be seen, I am told, females displaying almost as much luxury of dress as used to be exhibited in the days of the monarchy. The essential difference is that the road in the centre is not now, as in those times, coveted with brilliant equipages; though every day seems to produce an aug- mentation of the number of private carriages. At the entrance of the Champs Elysees are placed the famous groups of Numidian horses, held in by their vigorous and masterly conductors, two chefs (Tmivre of modern art, copied from 3 A SKETCH OF PARIS. 34 i the group of Monte-Cavallo at Rome. By order of the Directory, these statues were brought from Marly, where they ornamented the ter- race. They are each of them cut out of a block of the most faultless Carrara marble. On the pedestal on which they stood at that once-royal residence, was engraved the name of Costou, 1745, without any jBrname: but, as there were two brothers of tHaTlname, Nicolas and Guil- laume, natives of Lyons, and both excellent sculptors, it is become a matter of doubt by which of them these master-pieces were ex- ecuted; though the one died in 1733, and the other in 1746. It is conjectured, however, that fraternal friendship induced them to share the fame arising from these capital productions, and that they worked at them in common till death left the survivor the task of finishing their joint labour. To whichever of the two the merit of the execution may be due, it is certain that the fiery, ungovernable spirit of the horses, as well as the exertion of vigour, and the triumph of strength in their conductors, is very happily- expressed. The subject has frequently afforded a comparison to politicians. " These statues," say some observers, " appear to be the emblem * of the French people, over whom it is ne- f * cessary to keep a tight hand,"-— u It is to be 342 A SKETCH OF PAJU3. " apprehended/' add others, " that the reins, " which the conductors hold with so powerful f c an arm, are too weak to check these un- « governable animals," LETTER Paris, December 8, 1S01. You desire that I will favour you with a par- ticular account of the means employed to transfer from pannel to canvas those celebrated pictures which I mentioned in my letter of the 13th ult°. Like many other things that appear simple on being known, so is this process; but it is not, on that account, the less ingenious and diffi- cult in execution. Such is the great disadvantage of the art of painting that, while other productions of genius may survive the revolution of ages, the creations of the pencil are intrusted to perishable wood or canvas. From the effect of heat, humidity, various exhalations to which they may be care- lessly exposed, and even an unperceived ne^ gleet in the priming of the pannel or cloth, master-pieces are in danger of disappearing for ever. Happy, then, is it for the arts that this invaluable discovery has been lately brought to A SKETCH OP PARIS. ( 343 so great a degree of perfection, and that the restoration of several capital pictures having been confided to men no less skilful than en- lightened, they have thus succeeded in rescuing them from approaching and inevitable destruc- tion. Of all the fruits of the French conquests, not a painting was brought from Lombardy, Rome, Florence, or Venice, that was not covered with an accumulation of filth, occasioned by the smoke of the wax-tapers and incense used in the ceremonies of the catholic religion. It was therefore necessary to clean and repair them ; for to bring them to France, without rendering them fit to be exhibited, would have answered no better purpose than to have left them in Italy. One of those which particularly fixed the attention of the Administration of the Central Museum of the Arts, was the famous picture by Raphael, taken from the Chics a delle Con- tesse at Foligno, and thence distinguished by the appellation of the MADONNA DI FOLIGNO. This chef d\ieuvre was in such a lamentable state of decay, that the French commissioners who selected it, were under the necessity of pasting paper over it in order to prevent the scales, which curled up on piany parts of its sur~ 344 A SKETCH OP PARIS. face, from falling off during its conveyance to to Paris. In short, had not the saving hand of art interposed, this, and other monuments of the transcendent powers of the Italian school, marked by the corroding tooth of Time, would soon have entirely perished. As this picture could not be exhibited in its injured state, the Administration of the Museum determined that it should be repaired. They ac- cordingly requested the Minister of the Interior to cause this important operation to be attended by Commissioners chosen from the National In- stitute. The Class of Physical and Mathematical Sciences of that learned Society appointed to this task, Guyton and Berth ollet, chy mists, and the Class of Literature and Fine Arts named Vincent and Taunay, painters. These Commissioners, in concert with the Administration, having ascertained the state of the picture, it was unanimously agreed that the only mean of saving it would be to remove it from the worm-eaten pannel on which it was painted. It was, besides, necessary to ascer- tain the safety of the process, in order that, without exciting the apprehensions of the lovers of the arts, it might be applied to other pic- tures which required it. The Report of the four Commissioners be- fore-named, respecting the restoration of the A SKETCH OP PARIS, 345 Madonna di Foligno, has been adopted by the Classes to which they respectively belong, and is to be made to the National Institute at their next public sitting on the 15th of Nivose (5th of January, 1802). In order to make you perfectly acquainted with the whole of the process, I shall transcribe, for your satisfaction, that part of the Report im- mediately connected with the art of restoring damaged or decayed paintings. This labour, and the success by which it was attended, are really a memorial of what the genius and industry of the French can achieve. To all those who, like you, possess valuable collections, such in- formation cannot but be particularly interesting. " The desire of repairing the outrages of time has unfortunately accelerated the decay of several pictures by coarse repainting and bad varnish, by which much of the original work has been covered. Other motives, too, have con* spired against the purity of the most beautiful compositions: a prelate has been seen to cause a discordant head of hair to conceal the charms of a Magdalen." " Nevertheless, efficacious means of restora- tion have been discovered; a painting, the con- vass of which is decayed, or the pannel worm- eaten, is transferred to a fresh cloth; the pro* fene touches of a foreign pencil are made to 346 A SKETCH OF PARIS. disappear; the effaced strokes are reinserted with scrupulous nicety; and life is restored to a pic- ture which was disfigured, or drawing near to its end. This art has made great progress, espe- cially in Paris, and experienced recent improve- ment under the superintendance of the Admini- stration of the Museum; but it is only with a religious respect that any one can venture on an operation which may always give rise to a fear of some change in the drawing or colouring, above all when the question is to restore a picture by Raphael."^ " The restoration may be divided into two parts; the one, which is composed of mechani- cal operations, whose object is to detach the painting from the ground on which it is fixed, in order to transfer it to a fresh one; the other, which consists in cleaning the surface of the painting from every thing that can tarnish it, in restoring the true colouring to the pic- ture, and in repairing the parts destroyed, by tints skilfully blended with the primitive touches. Thence the distinctive division of the media* * It may not be amiss to observe that Rap ha el employed the impasto colour but in few of his pictures, of which the TransfiguFatipn is one wherein it is the most conspicuous : his other productions are painted with great transparency, the co- lours being laid on a white ground ; which rendered still more difficult the operation above-mentioned. Note of the Author. A SKETCH OP PARIS. 347 nical operations, and of the art of painting, which will be the object of the two parts of this Report. The former particularly engaged the attention of the Commissioners of the Class of Sciences-, and the latter, which required the habit of handling a scientific pencil, fell to the share of the Commissioners of the Class of Fine Arts" First Part. " Although the mechanical labour is subdi-* vided into several operations, it was wholly in- trusted to Citizen Hacquins, on whose intelli- gence, address, and skill, it is our duty to be- stow every commendation." " The picture represents the Virgin Mary, the infant Jesus, St. John, and several other figures of different sizes. It was painted on a pannel of it inches in thickness: a crack ex- tended from its circumference to the left foot of the infant Jesus: it was 4f lines wide at its upper part, and diminished progressively to the under: from this crack to the right, hand bor- der, the surface formed a curve whose greatest bend was 2 inches 5$ lines, and from the crack to the other border, another curve bend- ing 2 inches. The picture was scaling off in several places, and a great number of scales had already detached themselves; the painting >vas, besides, worm-eaten in many parts." 34S A SKETCH OP PARIS, " It was first necessary to render the stir- face even: to effect this-, a gauze was pasted On the paintings and the picture was turned on its face. After that, Citizen Hacguins made, in the thickness of the wood, several grooves at some distance from each other, and extending from the upper extremity of the bend to the place where the pannel presented a more level surface. Into these grooves he introduced little wooden wedges; he then covered the whole sur- face with wet cloths, which he took care to remoisten. The action of the wedges, which swelled by the moisture against the softened pannel, compelled the latter to resume its primi- tive form: both edges of the crack before-men- tioned being brought together, the artist had recourse to glue, in order to unite the two separated parts. During the desiccation, he laid oak bars across the picture, for the purpose of keeping the pannel in the form which he wished it to assume." " The desiccation being effected slowly, the artist applied a second gauze on the first, then successively two thicknesses of grey blotting paper." u This preparation (which the French artists call cartonnage) being dry, he laid the picture with its face downward on a table* to which he carefully confined it; he next proceeded to A SKETCH OF PARIS. 34Q the separation of the wood on which the paint- ing was fixed." ? The first operation was executed by means of two saws, one of which acted perpendicu- larly ; and the other, horizontally : the work of the two saws being terminated, the pannel was found to be reduced to the thickness of 4| lines. The artist then made use of a plane of a con- vex form on its breadth: with this instrument he planed the pannel in an oblique direction, in order to take off very short shavings, and to avoid the grain of the wood: by these means he reduced the pannel to f of a line in thick- ness. He then took a flat plane with a toothed iron, whose effect is much like that of a rasp which reduces wood into dust: in this manner he contrived to leave the pannel no thicker than a sheet of paper." " In that state, the wood was successively moistened with clear water, in small compart- ments, which disposed it to detach itself: then the artist separated it with the rounded point of a knife-blade." " The picture, thus deprived of all the wood, presented to the eye every symptom of the in- jury which it had sustained. It had formerly been repaired; and, in order to fasten again the parts which threatened to fall off, recourse had been had to oils and varnishes. But those in- 350 A SKETCH OP FAEXS. gradients passing through the intervals left by such parts of the picture as were reduced to curling scales, had been extended in the impres- sion to the paste., on which the painting rested, and had rendered the real restoration more diffi- cult, without producing the advantageous effect which had thence been expected." " The same process would not serve for se- parating the parts of the impression which had been indurated by varnishes, and those where the paste had remained unmixed: it was neces- sary to moisten the former for some time in small compartments: when they were become sufficiently softened, the artist separated them with the blade of his knife: the others were more easily separated by moistening them with a flannel., and rubbing them slightly. It re- quired all the address and patience of Citizen Hacguins to leave nothing foreign to the work of the original painter: at length the outline of Raphael was wholly exposed to view, and left by itself." " In order to restore a little suppleness to the painting, which was too much dried, it was rubbed all over with carded cotton imbibed with oil, and wiped with old muslin: then white lead, ground with oil, was substituted in the room of the impression made by paste, and fixed by means of a soft brush.** A SKETCH OF PARIS. 351 no one could now regret its entire removal. Under the old regime, however, it was nothing less than a govern- ment. Among the functions of the governor, were included the care of th^clock, which scarcely ever told the hour, an , who IS now abroad, in a situation of consider- able trust and emolument. He was> at that A SKETCH Of PARIS. 36/ time, a half-pay subaltern in the British army, and visited Paris, as well from motives of eco- nomy as from a desire of acquiring the French language. Being a tall, fresh-coloured young man, as he was one day crossing the Pont Neuf, he caught the eye of a recruiting-officer, who followed him from the Qua?, de la Ferallle to a coffee-house, in the Rue St. Honor e, which our Englishman frequented for the sake of read- ing the London newspapers. The recruiter, with all the art of a crimp combined with all the po- liteness of a courtier, made up to him under pretence of having relations in England, and en- deavoured, by every means in his power, to in- sinuate himself into the good graces of his new acquaintance. P — -, by way of sport, en- couraged the eagerness of the recruiter, who lavished on him every sort of civility; peaches in brandy, together with the choicest refresh- ments that a Parisian coffee-house could afford, were offered to him and accepted: but not the smallest hint was dropped of the motive of ail this more than friendly attention. At length, the re- cruiter, thinking that he might venture to break the ice, depicted, in the most glowing colours, the pleasures and advantages of a military life, and declared ingenuously that nothing would make him so happy as to have our countryman P — for his comrade. Without absolutely accepting 3 368 A SKETCH OF PARISi or rejecting his offer, P — begged a little delay in order to consider of the matter, at the same time hinting that there was, at that mo- ment, a small obstacle to his inclination. The recruiter, like a pioneer, promised to remove it, grasped his hand with joy and exultation, and departed, singing a song of the same import as that of Serjeant Kite: 6C Come brave boys, 'tis one to ten, at firsts have apparently pre* sented greater obstacles ; yet^ by talents and per- severance, these were overcome at a time when the science of machinery of every description was far less understood than it is at the pre- sent moment. It appears from the account of Abbqn, a monk of the abbey of St. Germain-des-Pres, that, in the year 885, the Swedes^ Danes, and Normans, to the number of forty-five thousand men, came to lay siege to Paris, with seven hundred sail of ships, exclusively of the smaller craft, so that, according to this historian, who was an eye-witness of the fact, the river Seine was covered with their vessels for the space of two leagues. Julius Caesar tells us, in the third book of his Commentaries, that, at the time of his con- quest of the Gauls, in the course of one winter^ he constructed six hundred vessels of the wood \vhich then grew in the environs of Paris; and that, in the following spring, he embarked his army, horse and foot, provisions and baggage, in these vessels, descended the Seine, reached Dieppe, and thence crossed over to England, of which, he says, he made a conquest. About forty years ago^ the scheme engaged much attention. In 3 7 59, the Academy of Sci- ences, Belles-Lettres, and Arts of Rouen pro- A SKETCH OP PARIS. 3sg posed the following as a prize-question : " Was fC not the Seine formerly navigable for vessels " of greater burden than those which are now " employed on it; and are there not means " to restore to it, or to procure it, that ad- *' vantage?" In 1760, the prize was adjourned; the memoirs presented not being to the satis- faction of the Academy. In 1761, the new candidates having no better success, the subject was changed. However, notwithstanding this discouragement, we find that, on the 1st of August, 1766, Cap- tain Berthelot actually reached the Pont Royal in a vessel of one hundred and sixty tons bur- den. When, on the 22d of the same month, he departed thence, loaded with merchandise, the depth of the water in the Seine was twenty-five feet, and it was nearly the same wh£n he ascended the river. This vessel was seven days on her passage from Rouen to Paris: but a year or Uvo ago, four days only were employed in performing the same voyage by another vessel, named the Saumon. Engineers have ever judged the scheme prac- ticable, and the estimate of the necessary works, signed by several skilful surveyors, was submitted to the ministry of that day. The amount was forty-six inillions of livres (circa ^1, 916,60a sterling). 3Q0 A SKETCH OP PARIS. But what can compensate for the absence of the tide? This is an advantage, which, in a commercial point of view, must ever insure to London a decided superiority over Paris. Were the Seine to-morrow rendered navigable for ves- sels of large burden, they must, for a consider- able distance, be tracked against the stream, or wait till a succession of favourable winds had en- abled them to stem it through its various wind- ings; whereas nothing can be more favourable to navigation than the position of London. It has every advantage of a sea-port without its dangers. Had it been placed lower down, that is, nearer to the mouth of the Thames, it would have been more exposed to the insults of a fo- reign enemy, and also to the insalubrious ex- halations of the swampy marshes. Had it. been situated higher up the river, it would have been inaccessible to ships of large burden. Thus, by no effort of human invention or in- dustry can Paris rival London in commerce, even on the supposition that France could produce as many men possessed of the capital and spirit of enterprise, for which our British merchants are at present unrivalled. Yet, may not this pre-eminence in commercial prosperity lead to our destruction, as the gigantic conquests of France may also pave the way to her ruin ? Alas ! the experience of ages proves this A SKETCH OF PARIS. 3QI melancholy truth, which has also been repeated by Raynal: " Commerce/' says that celebrated writer, " in the end finds its ruin in the riches " which it accumulates, as every powerful state " lays the foundation of its own destruction in a extending its conquests," LETTER XXXIV, Paris, December l6, 1801. No part of the engagement into which I have entered with you, so fully convinces me of my want of reflection, and shews that my zeal, at the time, got the better of my judgment, as rqy promising you some ideas on FRENCH LITERATURE. It would, I now perceive, be necessary to have inhabited France for several years past, with the determined intention of observing this great em- pire solely in that single point of view, to be able to keep my word in a manner worthy of you and of the subject. It would-be necessary to write a large volume of rational things ; and, in a letter, I ought to relate them with conciseness and truth ; draw sketches with rapidity, but clearness ; m short, express positive results, without de~ 392 A SKETCH OP PARIS. viating from abstractions and generalities, since you require from me, on this subject, no more than a letter, and not a book. I come to the point. I shall consider literature in a double sense. First, the thing in itself; then, its connexions with the sciences, and the men who govern. In England, it has been thought, or at least insinuated in some of the papers and periodical publications, that literature had been totally annihilated in France within the last twelve years. This is a mistake : its aberra- tions have been taken for eclipses. It has fol- lowed the revolution through all its phases. Under the Constituent Assembly, the literary genius of the French was turned towards politics and eloauence. There remain valuable mo- 4 numents of the fleeting existence of that assembly. Mirabeau, Barnave, Cazales, Maury, and thirty other capital writers, at- test this truth. Nothing fell from their lips or their pen that did not bear at the same time the stamp of philosophy and literature. Under the Legislative Assembly and the Con- vention, the establishments of the empire of letters were little respected. Literati themselves became victims of the political collisions of their country ; but literature was constantly cultivated under several forms. Those who shewed them- selves its oppressors, were obliged to assume the A SKETCH OP PARIS. 3Q3 refined language which it alone can supply, and that, at the very time when they declared war against it. Under the Directorial government, France, overwhelmed by the weight of her long misfor- tunes, first cast her eye on the construction of a new edifice, dedicated to human knowledge in general, under the name of National Institute. Literature there collected its remains, and those who cultivate it, as members of this establishment, are not unworthy of their office. Such as are not admitted into this society, notwithstanding all the claims the most generally acknowledged, owe this omission to moral or political causes only, on which I could not touch, without occu- pying myself about persons rather than the thing itself. The French revolution, which has levelled so many gigantic fortunes, is said (by its advocates) to have really spread a degree of comfort among the inferior classes. Indeed, if there are in France, as may be supposed, much fewer per- sons rolling in riches, there are, I am informed^ much fewer pining in indigence. This observa- tion, admitting it to be strictly true, may, with great propriety, be applied to French literature. France no longer has a Voltaire or a Rousseau, to wield the sceptre of the literary world; but she has a number of literary degrees of public in- 3()4 A SKETCH OP PARIS. terest or simple amusement, which are perfectly well filled. Few literati are without employ, and still fewer are beneath their functions. The place of member of the Institute is a real public function remunerated by the State. It is to this cause, and to a few others, which will occur to you beforehand, that w r e must attribute the character of gravity which literature begins to assume in this country. The prudery of the school of Dorat would here be hissed. Here,, people will not quarrel with the Graces ; but they will no longer make any sacrifice to them at the expense of common sense. In this literary republic still exist, as you may well conceive, the same passions, the same lit* tleness, the same intrigues as formerly for ar- riving at celebrity, and keeping in that envied sphere; but all this makes much less noise at the present juncture. It is this which has in- duced the belief that literature had diminished its intensity, both in form and object: that is another mistake. The French literati are mostly a noisy class, who love to make themselves conspicuous, even by the clashing of their pretensions; but, to the great regret of several among them, people in this country now attach a rational importance only to their quarrels, which for- merly attracted universal attention. The re- volution has been so great an event; it has A SKETCH OF PARIS. 3Q5 overthrown such great interests; that no one here can any longer flatter himself with exciting a personal interest, except by performing the greatest actions. I must also make a decisive confession on this matter, and acknowledge that literature, which formerly held the first degree in the scale of the moral riches of this nation, is likely to decline in priority and influence. The sci- ences have claimed and obtained in the public mind a superiority resulting from the very na- ture of their object ; I mean utility. The title of savant is not more brilliant than formerly ; but it is more imposing; it leads to conse- quence, to superior employments, and, above all, to riches. The sciences have done so much for this people during their revolution, that, whether through instinct, or premeditated gra- titude, they have declared their partiality towards the savans, or men of science, to the detriment of the mere literati. The sciences are nearly allied both to pride and national interest; while literature concerns only the vanity and inte- rest of a few individuals. This difference must have been felt, and of itself alone have fixed the esteem of the public, and graduated their suffrages according to the merit of the objects. Regard being had to their specific importance, I foresee that this natural classification will be i S(j6 A SKETCH OF PARIS. attended with happy consequences, both for the sciences and literature. I have been enabled to observe that very few men of science are unacquainted with the lite- rature of their country, whether for seeking in it pleasing relaxation, or for borrowing from it a magic style, a fluent elocution, a harmony, a pomp of expression, with which the most ab- stract meditations can no longer dispense to be received favourably by philosophers and men of taste. Very few literati, on the other hand, are unacquainted with philosophy and the sciences^ and, above all, with natural knowledge ; whether not to be too much in arrear with the age in which they live, and which evidently inclines to the study of Nature, or to give more co- lour and consistence to their thoughts, by mul- tiplying their degrees of comparison with the eternal type of all that is great and fertile. It has been so often repeated that Homer, Ossian, and Milton, knew every thing known in their times ; that they were at once the greatest natural philosophers and the best moralists of their age, that this truth has made an impression on most of the adepts in literature; and as the impulse is given, and the education of the present dav, by the retrench- ment of several unnecessary pursuits, has left, in rhe mind of the rising generation, vacancies fit 3 A SKETCH OF PARIS* 307 to be filled by a great variety of useful acquire- ments, it appears to me demonstrated, on fol- lowing analogy, and the gradations of human improvement, that the sciences, philosophy, and literature will some day have in France but one common domain, as they there have at present, with the arts, only one central point of junction* The French government has flattered the literati and artists, by calling them in great numbers round it and its ministers, either to give their advice in matters of taste, or to serve as a decoration to its power, and an addi- tional lustre to the crown of glory with which it is endeavouring to encircle itself; but, in general, the palpable, substantial, and solid dis- tinctions have been reserved for men of sci- ence, chymists, naturalists, and mathematicians: they have seats in the Senate, in the Tribu- nate, in the Council of State, and in all the Administrations; while Laharpe, the veteran of Prench literature, is not even a member of the Institute, and is reduced to give lessons, which are, undoubtedly, not only very interesting to the public, but also very profitable to himself, and produce him as much money, at least, as his knowledge has acquired him reputation. It results from what I have said, that French literature has not experienced any apparent injury 398 A SKETCH OP PARIS. from the revolutionary storm : it has only changed its direction and means : it has still remaining ta- lents which have served their time, talents iri their maturity, and talents in a state of probation, and of much promise. Persons of reflection entertain great hopes from the violent shock given to men's minds by the revolution; from that silent inquietude still working in their hearts ; from that sap, full of life, circulating with rapidity through this body politic. H The factions are muzzled," say i they; " but the factious spirit still ferments " under the curb of power; if means can be " found to force it to evaporate on objects " which belong to the domain of illusion and " sensibility, the result will prove a great blessing u to Prance, by carrying back to the arts and cc to literature, and even to commerce, that exube- u ranee of heat and activity which can no longer be " employed without danger on political subjects." The same men, whom I have just pointed out, affirm that England herself will feel, in her literary and scientific system, a salutary concus- sion from the direction given here to the pub- lic mind. They expect with impatience that the British government will engage in some great measure of public utility, in order that the rivalship subsisting between the two nations on political and military points, which have A SKETCH OP PARIS. 309 no longer any object, may soon become, in France, the most active and most powerful vehicle for different parts of her interior im- provement. Of all kinds of literature, Epic Poetry is the only one in which France has not obtained such success as to place her on a level with Tasso and Milton. To make amends, her poets have fol- lowed with advantage the steps of Ariosto, with- out being able to surpass him. From this school have issued two modern epic poems : La guerre des dieux pay ens contre les dieux chretiens, by Parny, and La conquhe de Naples, by Gudijst. The former is distinguished by an easy versifica- tion, and an imagination jocose and fertile, though, certainly, far too licentious. Educated in the school of Dorat, he possesses his re- dundance and grace, without his fatuity. His elegies are worthy of Tib ullus; and his fugitive pieces are at once dictated by wit and sentiment : thus it was that Chaulieu wrote, but with more negligence. The latter has thought to compen- sate for the energy and grace that should give life to his subject (which he considers only in a playful and satirical light), by a truly tiresome multitude of incidents. Conceive three huo-e volumes in octavo, for a poem which required but one of a moderate size, and, in them, a versifica- tion frequently negligent. These are two serious 400 A SKETCH OF PARIS. faults, which the French will not readily overlook. No where are critics more severe, on the one hand, against redundance that is steril, and on the other, respecting the essential composition of verse> which ought always to flow with grace, even when uhder restraint. Catholicism, however* has no more reason to be pleased with the loose scenes presented in this work, than Christianity, in general, has with the licentious pictures of Parny ; but Gudin is far less dangerous to Rome, because he will be less read. Several authors have devoted their labours to Tragedy^ during the course of the revolution. Chenier has produced a whole theatre, which will remain to posterity, notwithstanding his faults, as he has contrived to cover them with beauties; Arnault and Mercier of Compiegne are two young authors that seem to have been educated in the school of Ducis, who is at this day the father of all the present tragic writers. The pieces which they have produced have met /with some success, and are of considerable promise* Comedy lost a vigorous supporter under the tyranny of Robespierre. This was Fabre d'Eg- lANTitffi. That poet seldom failed of success, drew none but bold characters, and placed him- self, by his own merit, between Moliere and Destouches. Colin d'Harleville and Le- Gouvi; produce agreeable pieces which succeed. A SKETCH OP PARIS* 401 They paint, with an ieasy and graceful pencil, the absurdities and humours of society; but their pieces are deficient in plot and action. Faure d'EglAntine pourtrayed, in striking colours, those frightful vices which are beyond the reach of the law. His pieces are strongly Woven and easily unravelled. Pi card seems to have taken Goldoni, the celebrated Venetian comic writer, for his model. Like him, an excellent painter, a Writer by impulse, he produces, with wonderful fecundity, a number of interesting comedies, which make the audience laugh till they shed tears, and now and then give great lessons. Palis sot, CailhAva, and Mercier are still living; but no longer produce any thing striking. I shall say little of French eloquence. Under the new form of government, orators have less opportunity and less scope for displaying tr&n~ scendant talents than during the first years of the revolution. Two members of the government, Cambaceres and Leerun, have distinguished themselves in this career by close, logical ar- gument, bright conceptions, and discriminating genius. Benjamin Constant and Guinguene, members of the Tribunate^ shewed themselves to advantage last year, a$ I understand, in some pro- ductions full of energy and wisdom. Demeunier and Boissi d'Anglas are already, in the Tribunate, veterans of eloquence ; but the man who unites, vol. I, d d 402 A SKETCH OP PARIS. in this respect^ all the approbation of that body, and even of France, is Daunou. In exterior means he is deficient ; but his thoughts proceed at once from a warm heart and an open mind, guided by a superior genius ; and his expressions manifest the source from which they flow. Several capital works of the historic kind have made their appearance in France within the last ten years; but, with the exception of those of celebrated voyagers or travellers, such as La Pe- rouse, Baudin, Sonnini, Labillardiere, Oli- vier, Andre Michaijb, &c. those whose object has been to treat of the arts, sciences, and manners of Greece, such as the travels of Ana- charsis, of Pythagoras, or of Antenor; those whose subject has not been confined to France, such as the Precis de Hiistoire generate, by An- auETiL ; people ought to be on their guard against the merit even of productions written mediately or immediately on the revolution, its causes, and consequences. The passions are not yet suffi- ciently calmed for us not to suspect the spirit of party to interpose itself between men and truth. The most splendid talents are frequently in this line only the most faithless guide. It is affirmed, however, that there are a few works which recommend themselves, by the most philo- sophic impartiality; but none of these have as yet fallen under my observation. A striking pro- A SKETCH OF PAIUS, 403 duction is expected from the pen of the celebrated Volney. This is a Tableau Physique des Etats Unis ; but it is with regret I hear that its appear- ance is delayed by the author's indisposition. Novels are born and die here, as among us, with astonishing abundance. The rage for evo- cations and magic spectres begins to diminish. The French assert that they have borrowed it from us/ and from the school of Mrs. Radcliff, &c. &c. They also assert, that the policy of the royalist-party was not unconnected with this prq^ pagation of cavernous, cadaverous adventures, ideas, and illusions, intended, they say, by the impression of a new moral terror to infatuate their countrymen again with the dull and sopo- rific prestiges of popery. They see with joy that the taste for pleasure has assumed the ascendency, at least in Paris, and that novels in the English style no longer make any one tremble, at night by the fireside, but the old beldams of the pro- vincial departments. The less important kinds of literature, such as the Apologue or Moral Fable, which is not at this day much in fashion ; the Eclogue or Idyl, whose culture particularly belongs to agrestical and picturesque regions; Political Satire, which is never more refined than under the influence of arbitrary power; these kinds, to which I might add the Madrigal and Epigram, without 404 A SKETCH OF PARIS, being altogether abandoned, are not generally enough cultivated here to obtain special men- tion. I shall make an exception only in fa- vour of the pastoral poems of Leclerc (of Marne and Loire) of which I have heard a Very favourable account. At the end of a revolution which has had periods so ensanguined, Romance, (romantic poetry) must have been cultivated and held in request. It has been so, especially by senti- mental minds, and not a little too through the Spirit of party; this was likely to be the case, since its most affecting characteristic is to mourn over tombs. Lyric poetry has been carried by Lebrun, Chenier, &c. to a height worthy of Jean Baptiste Rousseau. The former* above all, will stand his ground, by his own weight, to the latest posterity; while hitherto the lyric productions of Chenier have not been able to dispense with the charm of musical harmony. Fontanes, Cubieres, Pons be Verdun, Ba- our-Lornian, and Despaze are secondary geniuses, who do not make us forget that Delisle and the Chevalier Bertin are still living; but whose fugitive pieces sometimes dis- play many charms. When you shall be made acquainted that Paris, of all the cities in the world, is that A SKETCH OF PARIS. 405 where the rage for dancing is the most nationalized^ where, from the gilded apartments of the most fashionable quarters to the smoky chambers of the most obscure suburbs, there are executed more capers in cadence, than in any other place on earth, you will not be surprised if I reserve a special article for one of the kinds of lite- rature that bears the most affinity to this dis- tinctive diversion of the Parisian belles, which has led Mercier to say, that their city was the guingette of Europe; I mean Song. Per- haps, a subject new and curious to treat on, would be the influence of vocal music on the French revolution. Every one knows that this people marched to battle singing; but, inde- pendently of the subject being above my abili- ties, it would carry me too far beyond the limited plan which I have prescribed to myself. Let it suffice for you to know, that there has existed in Paris a sort of lyric manufactory, which, under the name of u Diners die vaude- ville" scrupulously performed, for several years, an engagement to furnish, every month, a col- lection of songs very agreeable and very capti- vating. These productions are pretty often full of allusions, more or less veiled, to the poli- tical events of the moment; seldom, however, have they been handled as very offensive wea- pons against persons or institutions. The friends 406 A SKETCH OF PARIS. bf mirth and wine are seldom dark and dan- gerous politicians. This country possesses a great number of them, who combine the ta- lents required by the gravest magistracy with all the levity of the most witty and most cheer- ful bon vivant. I shall quote at random Francois be Neufchateau, the two Segurs, Pus, &c. &c. Others, such as Barre, Desfontaines, and Radet, confine themselves to their ex- clusive functions of professed song-makers, and write only for the little musical theatres, or for the leisure of their countrymen and their evening-amusements. It is impossifefe to terminate a sketch of the literature of France, without saying a word of such of the Journals as I have yet perused, which are specially devoted to it. The Mer~ cure de France is one of those held in most esteem j and habit, as well as the spirit of party, concurs in making the fortune of this journal. There exists another, conducted by a member of the Institute, named Pougens, under the title of BibiiotKtque Francaise, which is spoken of very favourably. But that which appears every ten days, under the name of Decade Pkilosophique> is the best production of the sort. A society of literary men, prudent, well-informed, and warmly attached to their country, are its authors, and deposit in it a well-digested analysis of every thing A SKETCH OP PARIS. 407 new that appears in the arts, sciences, or litera- ture. Nevertheless, a labour so carefully per- formed, is perfectly disinterested. This is the only enterprise of the kind that does not af- ford a livelihood to its associates, and is supported by a zeal altogether gratuitous. Without seeking to blame or approve the title of this last-mentioned journal, I shall only remark that the word Decade, coupled with the word Philosophique, becomes in the eyes of many per- sons a double cause of reprobation ; and that, at this day, more than ever, those two words are, in the opinion the most in fashion, marked by a proscription that is reflected on every thing which belongs to the science of philosophy. This would be the moment to inquire into the secret or ostensible causes which have led to the retrograde course that is to be remarked in France in the ideas which have been hitherto reckoned as conducive to the advancement of reason. This would be the moment to observe the new government of France endeavouring to balance, the one by the other, the opinions sprung from the Republic, and those daily con- jured up from the Monarchy; holding in equ\t librio two colours of doctrines so diametrically opposite, and consequently two parties equally dissatisfied at not being able to crush each other ; neutralizing them, in short, by its immense in- 408 A SKETCH OF PARIS, fluence in the employment of their strength, when they bewilder or exhaust themselves use- lessly for its interests; but I could not touch on these matters, without travelling out of the do- main of literature, which is the only one that is at present familiar to me., in order to enter into yours, where you have not leisure to direct me ; and you may conceive with what an ill grace X should appear, in making before you, in politics, excursions, which, probably, would have for me the inconvenience of commanding great efforts, without leaving me the hope of adding any thing to your stock of information, LETTER XXXV, \ Paris 5 December 18, 1801, Divided, as Paris is by the Seine, it seldom happens that one has not occasion to cross it more than once in the course of the day. I shall therefore make you acquainted with the bridges which connect to its banks the islands situated in that part of the river I have not yet described. Being out of my general track, I might other- wise forget to make any further mention of them, which would be a manifest omission, nov( you have before you the Plan of Paris* A SKETCH OF PARIS. 4®g We will also embrace the opportunity of visit- ing the Palais de Justice and the Cathedral of Notre-Dame. East of the Pont-Neuf, we first arrive at the PONT AU CHANGE. This bridge, which leads from the north bank of the Seine to the He du Palais, is one of the most ancient in Paris, Though, like all those of which I have now to speak, it crosses but one channel of the river, it was called the Grand Pont, till the year 1141, when it acquired its present name on Lewis VII establishing here all the money-changers of Paris. It was also called Pont aux Qiseaux, because bird-sellers were permitted to carry on their busi- ness here, on condition of letting loose two hundred dozen of birds, at the moment when kings and queens passed, in their way to the ca- thedral, on the day of their public entry. By this custom, it was intended to signify that, if the people had been oppressed in the preceding reign, their rights, privileges, and liberties would be fully re-established under the new monarch. On the public entry of Isabeau de Baviere, wife of Charles VI, a Genoese stretched a rope from the top of the towers of Notre-Dame to one of the houses on this bridge : he thence descended, dancing on this rope, with a lighted 3. 410 A SKETCH OP PA1US. torch in each hand. Habited as an angel, he placed a crown on the head of the new queen, and reascending his rope, he appeared again in the air. The chronicle adds that, as it was al- ready dark, he was seen by all Paris and the environs. This bridge was then of wood, and covered with houses also of wood. Two fires, one of which happened in 1621, and the other in 1639, occasioned it to be rebuilt of stone in ]647. The Pont au Change consists of seven arches. Previously to the demolition of the houses, which, till 1786,^00(1 on each side of this bridge, the passage was sufficiently wide for three carriages. Traversing the lie du Palais from north to south, in order to proceed from the Pont au Change to the Pont St. Michel, we pass in front of the PALAIS DE JUSTICE. Towards the end of the ninth century, this palace was begun by Eudes. It was successively enlarged by Robert, son of Hugh Capet, by St. Lewis, and by Philip the Fair. Under Charles V, who abandoned it to occupy the Hdtel St. Paul, which he had built, it was nothing more than an assemblage of large towers, communicating w ith each other by galleries. In 1383, Charles VI A SKETCH OF PARIS. 411 made it his residence. In 1431, Charles VII re- linquished it to the Parliament of Paris. However, Francis I. took up his abode here for some time. It was in the great hall of this palace that the kings of France formerly received ambas- sadors, and gave public entertainments. On Whitsunday, 1313, Philip the Fair here knighted his three sons, with all the ceremo- nies of ancient chivalry. The king of England, our unfortunate Edward II, and his abominable queen Isabella, who were invited, crossed the sea on purpose, and were present at this enter- tainment, together with a great number of English barons. It lasted eight days, and is spoken of, by historians, as a most sumptuous banquet. This magnificent hall, as well as great part of the palace, being reduced to ashes in l6l8, it was rebuilt, in its present state, under the direction of that skilful architect, Jacques de Brosses. It is both spacious and majestic, and is the only hall of the kind in France: the arches and arcades which support it are of Jiewn stone. Another fire, which happened in 1 776-, con- sumed all the part extending from the galleiy of prisoners to the Sainte Chapelle, founded t>y St. Lewis, and w r here, before the revolution? 412 A SKETCH OF PATHS. were shewn a number of costly relics. The ravages occasioned by this fire, were repaired in 1787, and the space in front laid open by the erection of uniform buildings in the form of a crescent* To twfo, gloomy gothic gates has been substituted an iron railing, of one hundred and twenty feet in extent, through which is seen a spacious court formed by two wings of new edifices, and a majestic faqade that affords an entrance to the interior of the palace. In this court Madame La Motte, who, in 3 786, made so conspicuous a figure in the noted affair of the diamond necklace, was pub-* Iicly whipped. I was in Paris at the time, though not present at the execution of the sentence, In the railing, are three gates, the centre one of which is charged with garlands and other gilt ornaments. At the two ends are pavilions decorated with four Doric pillars* To^ wards the Pont St. Michel is a continuation of the building ornamented with a bas-relief, at present denominated Le servient civique. At the top of a flight of steps, is an avanU corps, with four Doric columns, a balustrade above the entablature, four statues standing on a level with the base of the pillars., and be-* hind, a square dome, A SKETCH OF PARIS. These steps lead you to the Mercihe gal- lery, having on the one side, the Sainte Cka- pelle, and on the other, the great hall, called the Salle des Procureiirs. In this extensive hall are shops, for the sale of eatables and pamphlets, which, since the suppression of the Parliament, seem to have little custom, as well as those of the milliners, &c. in the other gal- leries. In what was formerly called the grande chambre^ where the Parliament of Paris used to sit, the ill-fated Lewis XVI, in 1788, held the famous bed of justice, in which D'Espresmenil, one of the members of that body, struck the first blow at royalty; a blow that w r as revenged by a lettre de cachet, which exiled him to the Ife de St. Marguerite, famous for being the place of confinement of the great personage who was always compelled to wear an iron ?nash. The courage of this counsellor, who was a noble and deputy of the noblesse, may be considered as the primum mobile of the revolution. Under the despotism of the court, he braved all its vengeance; but, in the sequel, he afforded a singular proof of the instability of the human mind. After having stirred up all the parlia- ments against the royal authority, he again be- came the humble servant of the crown. After the revolution, the Palais d* Justice 414 A SKETCH OF PARIS. became the seat of the Revolutionary Tribunal, where the satellites of Robespierre, not content with sending to the scaffold sixty victims at a time, complained of the insufficiency of their means for bringing to trial all the enemies of liberty. Dumas, at one time president of this sanguinary tribunal, proposed to his colleagues to join to the hall, where the tribunal sat, part of the great hall of the palace, in order to assemble there five or six hundred victims at a time; and on its being observed to him that such a sight might in the end disgust the people; " Well," said he, " there's but one " method of accomplishing our object, without " any obstacle, that is to erect a guillotine in " the court-yard of every prison, and cause the " prisoners to be executed there during the night." Had not Robespierre's downfall involved that of all his blood-thirsty dependents, there seems no doubt that this plan would have been carried into speedy execution. Nothing can paint the vicissitude of human "events in colours more striking than the tran- sitions of this critical period. Dumas who made this proposal, and had partially satisfied his mer- ciless disposition by signing, a few hours be- fore, the death-warrant of sixty victims, was the very next day brought before the same tribunal, composed of his accomplices, or rather his crea- A SKETCH OF PARIS. 415 tures, and by them condemned to die. Thus did experience confirm the general observation, that the multiplicity and enormity of punish- ments announces an approaching revolution. The torrents of blood which tyrants shed, are, in the end, swelled by their own. In lieu of a tribunal of blood, the Palais de Justice is now appropriated to the sittings of the three tribunals, designated by the following titles: Tribunal de cassation, Tribunal d*appei 9 and Tribunal de premihre instance. The first of these, the Tribunal de cassation, occupies the audience-chambers of the late parliament; while the grande chambre is appointed for the meet- ings of its united Sections. The decoration of this spacious apartment is entirely changed: it is embellished in the antique style; and a per- son in contemplating it might fancy himself at Athens. Adjoining to the Palais de Justice, is the fa- mous prison, so dreaded in the early periods of the revolution, called LA CONCIERGERIE. From this fatal abode, neither talent, virtue, nor patriotism could, at one time, secure those who possessed such enviable -qualities. Lavoi- sier, Malsherbes, Condorcet, &c. were here successively immured, previously to being sent 4J6 A SKETCH OP PARIS. to the guillotine. Here too the unfortunate: Marie-Antoinette lived in a comfortless man-* ti&Cj from the 2nd of July,, 17Q3, to the 13th of October following,- the period of her con- demnation. On being reconducted to the: prison, at four o'clock in the morning, after hearing her sentence read, the hapless queen displayed a fortitude worth} of the daughter of the high-minded Maria Theresa. She requested a few hours* respite, to compose her mind, and entreated to be left to herself in the room which she had till then occupied. The moment she was alone, she first cut off her hair, and then laying aside her widow's weeds, which she had always worn since the death of the king, put on a white dress, and threw herself on her bed, where she slept till eleven o'clock the same morning, when she was awakened, in order to be taken to the scaffold. Continuing to cross the lie du Palais, in a di- rection towards the south, we presently reach the PONT ST, MICHEL. This bridge stands in a direct line With th0 Pont an, Change 5 and is situated on the south channel of the river. It Was formerly of wood ; but having been frequently destroyed, it was re* built with stone in l6l8, and covered on both sides with houses. From the Pont Neuf, the A SKETCH OP fAftlS. 41? back of thesis buildings has a most disagreeable and filthy appearance. It is said that they are to be taken down, as those have been which stood on the other bridges. In severe winters, when there is much ice in the river, it is curious, on the breaking up of the frost, to behold families desert* ing their habitations, like so many rats, §nd carrying with them their valuables, from the apprehension that these crazy tenements might fall into the river. This wise precaution is sug- gested by the knowledge of these bridges, when built of wood, having been often swept away by ice or great inundations* The Pont St. Michel consists of four arches* Its length is two hundred and sixty-eight feet, by sixty in breadth, including the houses, be- tween which is a passage for three carriages. If, to avoid being entangled in narrow, dirty streets, we return, by the same route, to the north bank of the Seine, and proceed to the westward, along the Quai de Gt!vres, which is partly built on piles, driven irito the bed of the river, we shall come to the PONT NOTRE-DAMB. A wooden bridge, which previously existed here, having been frequently carried away by inundations, Lewis XII ordered the construe- vol. t. # 35 418 A SKETCH dP PAKISi tion of the present one of stone, which was- begun in 14QQ, and completed in 1507. It was built from the plan of one Joconde, a Gorde* lier, and native of Verona, and is generally ad- mired for the solidity, as well as beauty 6f its architecture. It consists of six arches, and is two hundred and seventy-six feet in length. Formerly it was bordered by houses, which were taken down in 1786: this has rendered the quarter more airy, and consequently more salubrious. 1 It was on this bridge that the Pope's Legate reviewed the ecclesiastical infantry of the League, on the the 3d of June, 15C)0. Capuchins, Mi- nimes, Cordeliers, Jacobins or Dominicans, Feuil- lans, &c. all with their robe tucked up, their cowl thrown behind, a helmet on their head, a coat of mail on their body, a sword by their side, and a musquet on their shoulder, marched four by four, headed by the reverend bishop of Seni- lis, bearing a spontoon. But some of this holy soldiery, forgetting that their pieces were loaded with ball, wished to salute the Legate, arid killed by his side one of his chaplains. His Eminence finding that it began to grow hot at this review, hastened to give his benediction* and vanished. A SKETCH OP PARIS* 41 9 December 18, in continuation. Traversing once more two-thirds of the lie du Palais in a direction from north to south* and then striking off to the east, up the Rue de Callandre, we reach the CATHEDRAL OF NOTRE-DAME* This church, the first ever built in Paris, wa& begun about the year 375, under the reign of the emperor Valentinian I. It Was then called St. Etienne or St. Stephens, and there was as yet no other within the Walls of this city in 1522, when Childebert, son of Clovis, repaired and enlarged it, adding to it a new basilic > which was dedicated to Notre Dame or Our Lady. More anciently, under Tiberius, there had been, on the same spot, an altar in the open air, dedicated to Jupiter and other pagan gods, part of which is still in being at the Museum op French Monuments* in the Rue des Petits Augustins. These two churches existed till about the year li6o, under the reign of Lewis the Young, when the construction of the present cathedral was begun partly on their foundations, It was not finished till 1185, during the reign of Philip Augustus* This Gothic Church is one of the handsomest E E 2 ' 420 A SKETCH OF PARXSi .and most spacious in France. It has a ma- jestic and venerable appearance, and is sup- ported by one hundred and twenty clustered columns. Its length is three hundred and ninety feet by one hundred and forty-four in breadth, and one hundred and two in height. We must not expect to find standing here the twenty-six kings, benefactors of this church, from Childeric I to Philip Augustus, fourteen feet high, who figured on the same line, above the three doors of the principal facade. They have all fallen under the blows of the icono- clasts, and are now piled up behind the church. There lie round-bellied Charlemagne, with his pipe in his mouth, and Pepin the Short, with his sword in his hand, and a lion, the emblem of courage, under his feet. The latter, like Tydeus, mentioned in the Iliad, though small in stature, w 7 as stout in heart, as appears from the following anecdote related of him by the monk of St. Gal. In former times, as is w r ell known, kings took a delight in setting wild beasts and ferocious ani- mals to fight against each other. At one of these fights, between a lion and a bull, in the abbey of Ferrieres, Pepin the Short, who knew that some noblemen were daily exercising their pleasantry on his small stature, addressed to them this question: c f Which of you feels 3 A SKETCH OF PARIS* 421 u himself bold enough to kill or separate those " terrible animals?" Seeing that not one of them stepped forward, and that the proposal alone made them shudder: " Well/' added he, " 'tis I then who will perform the feat." He accordingly descended from his place, drew his sword, killed the lion, at another stroke cut off the head of the bull, and then looking fiercely at the railers: a Know," said he to them, " that stature adds nothing to courage, * and that I shall find means to bring to the H ground the proud persons who shall dare to " despise me, as little David laid low the great " giant Goliah." Hence the attribute given to the statue of king Pepin, which not long since adorned the faqade of Notre-Dame. The groups of angels, saints, and patriarchs, which, no doubt, owe their present existence only to their great number, still present to the eye of the observer that burlesque mixture of the profane and religious, so common in the symbolical representations of the twelfth century. These figures adorn the triple row ©f indented borders of the arches of the three doors. Two enormous square towers, each two hun- dred and two feet in height, and terminated by a platform, decorate each end of the cathedral. Th£ ascent to them is by a winding stair-case- 422 A SKETCH OF PARIS* of three hundred and eighty-nine steps, and their communication is by a gallery which has no support but Gothic pillars of a lightness that excites admiration. Independently of the six bells, which have disappeared with the little belfry that con- tained them, in the two towers were ten, one pf which weighed forty-four thousand pounds. At the foot of the north tower is the rural calendar or zodiac, which has been described by M. Le Gentil, member of the Academy of Sciences. The Goths had borrowed from the Indians this custom of thus representing rustic labours at the entrance of their temples. Another Gothic bas-relief, which is seen on the left, in entering by the great door, un~ doubtedly represents that condemned soul who, tradition says, rose from his bier, during divine service, in order to pronounce his own dam- nation. None of the forty-five chapels have pre- served the smallest vestige of their ornaments. Those which escaped the destructive rage of the modern Vandals, have been transported to the Museum of Fkench Monuments, The most re- markable are the statue of Pierre de Gondi, arch- bishop of Paris, the mausoleum of the Conte d'Har- court, designed by his widow, the modern Arte^ xnisia, and executed by Pigalle, together with the A SKETCH OP PARIS* 423 group representing the vow of St. Lewis, by Cos- tou the elder. Six angels in bronze, which were seen at the further end of the choir, have also been removed thither. The stalls present, in square and oval com- partments, bas-reliefs very delicately sculptured, representing subjects taken from the life of the Holy Virgin and from the New Testament. Of the two episcopal pulpits, which are at the further end, the one, that of the archbishop, represents the martyrdom of St. Denis; the other, opposite, the cure of king Childebert, by the intercession of St. Germain. Some old tapestry, hung scantily round the choir, makes one regret the handsome iron railing, so richly wrought, by which it was in- closed, and some valuable pictures, which now figure in the grand Gallery of the Central Museum of the Arts. The nave, quite as naked as the choir and the sanctuary, had been enriched, as far as the space would admit, with pictures, twelve feet high, given for a long time, on every first of May, by the Goldsmiths' company and the fra- ternity of St. Anne ajkl St. Marcel. On the last pillar of the nave, on the right, was the equestrian statue of Philip of Valois. That king was here ^represented on horseback,, with his vizor down, sword in hand, and armed 7 424 A SKETCH OF PARIS* cap-a-pie, in the very manner in which, he rode into the cathedral of Notre-Dame, in 1328, after the battle of Cassel. At the foot of the altar he left his horse, together with his ar- mour, which he had worn in the battle, as an offering to the Holy Virgin, after having re- turned thanks to God and to her, say histo- rians, for the victory he had obtained through her intercession. Above the lateral alleys, as well of the choir as of the nave, are large galleries, separated by little pillars of a single piece, and bordered by iron balustrades. Here spectators place them- selves to see grand ceremonies. From their balconies were formerly suspended the colours taken from the enemy: these are now displayed In the Temple of Mars at the Hotel des In- •ALIDES. The organ, which appears to have suffered no injury, is reckoned one of the loudest and most complete in France. It is related that Daquin, ari incomparable organist, who died in 1781, once imitated the nightingale on it so perfectly, that the beadle was sent on the roof of the chtfrch, to endeavour to discover the musical bird. Some of the stained glass is beautiful. Two roses, restored to their original state, the one on the side of the archipiscopal palace, in 1726* A SKETCH OP PARIS. 425 and the other above the organ, in 1760, prove by their lustre, that the moderns are not so inferior to the ancients, in the art of painting on glass, as is commonly imagined. Should your curiosity lead you to contemplate the house of Fulbert, the canon, the supposed uncle to the tender Helorse, where that cele- brated woman passed her youthful days, you must enter, by the cloister of Notre-Dame, into the street that leads to the Pont Rouge, since removed. It is the last house on the right under the arcade, and is easily distinguished by two medallions in stone, preserved on the fa- cade, though it has been several times rebuilt during the space of six hundred years. All the authors who have written on the antiqui- ties of Paris, speak of these medallions as being real portraits of Abelard and Heloise. It is presumable that they were so originally; but, without being a connoisseur, any one may dis- cover that the dresses of these figures are far more modern than those peculiar to the twelfth century; whence it may be concluded that the original portraits having been destroyed by time, or by the alterations which the house has under- gone, these busts have been executed by soma more modern sculptor of no great talents. leaving the cathedral; by the Rue Notre- 420 A SKETCH OF PARIS. Dame, and turning to the left, on reaching the Marche Palu y we come to the PETIT PONT, Like the Pont St. Michel, this bridge Is situated on the south channel of the river* and stands in a direct line with the Pont Notre-Darne. It originally owed its construc- tion to the following circumstance. Four Jews, accused of having killed one of their converted brethren, were condemned to be publicly whipped through all the streets of the city, on four successive Sundays. After having suffered the half, of their sentence, to redeem themselves from the other half, they paid 1 8,000 francs of gold. This sum was appropriated to the erection of the Petit Pont, the first stone of which was laid by Charles VI, in 1395. In 1718, two barges, loaded with hay, caught fire, and being cut loose, drifted under the arches of this bridge, which, in the space of four hours, was consumed, together with the houses standing on it. The following year it was rebuilt, but without houses. Proceeding to the east, along the quays of the He du Palais, you will find the PONT AU DOUBLE. / 4 SKETCH OP PARIS. ATJ This little bridge, situated behind the Hdtel- Dieu, of which I shall speak hereafter/ is des- tined for foot-passengers only, as was the Pont Rouge.. The latter was the point of communi- cation between the Cite and the lie St. Louis j but the frequent reparations which it required, occasioned it to be removed in 17 9h though^ by the Plan of Paris, it still appears to be in existence. However, it is in contemplation to replace it by another of stone.* Supposing that you have regained the north bank of the Seine, by means of the Pont Notre-Dame, you follow the quays, which skirt that shore, till you reach the PONT MARIE. This bridge forms a communication between the Port St. Paul and the He St. Louis* The Pont Marie was named after the engineer who engaged with Henry IV to build it; but that prince having been assassinated, the young king, Lewis XIII, and the queen dowager, laid * Workmen are, at this moment, employed in the construc- tion of three new bridges. The first, already mentioned, will form a communication between the ci-devant College des Quatre Nations and the Louvre the second, between the lie du Palais and the lie St. Louis * and the third, between the Jar din des Plants and the Arsenal. 428 A SKETCH OP PARIS. the first stone in l6l4: it was finished, and bordered with houses, in 1635. It consists of five arches. Its length is three hundred feet by sixty-two in breadth. An inundation having carried away two of the arches, in 1658, they were repaired without the addition of houses* and in 178^ the others were removed. Passing through the Rue des Deux Pouts, which lies in a direct line with the Pont Marie, w r e arrive at the PONT DE LA TOURNELLE. This bridge takes its name from the Chateau dc la Tournelle, contiguous to the Porte St. Bernard, where the galley-slaves used formerly to be lodged, till they were sent off to the different public works. It consists of six arches of solid construc- tion, and is bordered on each side by a foot-* pavement. You are now acquainted with all the bridges in Paris ; but should you prefer crossing the Seine in a boat, there are several ferries between the bridges, and at other convenient places. Here, you may always meet with a waterman, who, for the sum of one sou, will carry you over, whether master or lackey. Like the old ferrymau Charon, he makes no distinction of persons, A SKETCH OF PARIS. 42G LETTER XXXVI. Paris, December 20, lS01„ What a charming abode is Paris, for a man who can afford to live at the rate of a thousand or fifteen hundred pounds a year! Pleasures wait not for him to go in quest of them; they come to him of their Ovvn accord; they spring up, in a manner, under his very feet, and form around him an officious retinue* Every moment of the day can present a new gratification to him who knows how to enjoy it ; and, with prudent management, the longest life even would not easily exhaust so ample a stock. Paris has long been termed an epitome of the world. But, perhaps, never could this denomina- tion be applied to it with so much propriety as at the present moment. The chances of war have not only rendered it the centre of the fine arts, the museum cf the most celebrated master- pieces in existence, the emporium where the luxury of Europe comes to procure its super- fluities; but the taste for pleasure has also found means to assemble here all the enjoyments which Nature seemed to have exclusively appropriated to other climates. Every country has its charms and advantages. Paris alone appears to combine them all. Every 430 A SKETCH OF PARIS* region, every corner of the globe seems to vie lit hastening to forward hither the tribute of its pro- ductions. Are you an epicure ? No delicacy of the table but may be eaten in Paris, — Are you a toper ? No delicious wine but may be drunk, in Paris. — Are you fond of frequenting places of public entertainment? No sort of spectacle but may be seen in Paris. — Are you desirous of im- proving your mind ? No kind of instruction but may be acquired in Paris. — Are you an admirer .of the fair sex ? No description of female beauty but may be obtained in Paris. — Are you partial to the society of men of extraordinary talents ? No great genius but comes to display his knowledge in Paris. — Are you inclined to discuss military to- pics ? No hero but brings his laurels to Paris.— In a word, every person, favoured by Nature or Fortune, flies to enjoy the gifts of either in Paris. Even every place celebrated in the annals of vo- luptuousness, is, as it were, reproduced in Paris, which, in some shape or another, presents its name or image. Without going out of this capital, you may, in the season when Nature puts on her verdant livery, visit Idalium, present your incense to the Graces, and adore, in her temple, the queen of love ; while at Tivoli, you may, perhaps, find as many beauties and charms as were formerly ad- mired at the enchanting spot on the banks of the A SKETCH OF PARIS. 431 Anio, which, under its ancient name of Tibur, was so extolled by the Latin poets ; and close to the Boulevard, at Frascati, you may, in that gay season, eat ices as good as those with which Car- dinal de Bernis used to regale his visiters, at his charming villa in the Campagna di Roma. Who therefore need travel farther than Paris to enjoy every gratification ? If then, towards the close of a war, the most frightful and destructive that ever was waged, the useful and agreeable seem to have proceeded here hand in hand in improvement, what may not be expected in the tranquillity of a few years' peace ? Who knows but the emperor Julian's " dear Lutetia" may one day vie in splendour with Thebes and its hundred gates, or ancient Rome covering its seven mountains ? However, if Tivoli and Frascati throw open their delightful recesses to the votaries of pleasure only in spring and summer, even now, during the fogs of December, you may repair to PAPHOS. It might almost be said that you enter this place of amusement gratis, for, though a slight tribute of seventy-five centimes (circa seven-pence halfpenny sterling) is required for the admission of every person, yet you may take refreshment to 432 A SKETCH OF PARIS. the amount of that sum, without again putting your hand into your pocket; because the counter- mar^ given at the door, is received at the bar as ready-money; This speculation, the first of the kind in France, and one of the most specious, is, by all accounts, also one of the most productive. It would be too rigorous, no doubt, to compare the frequenters of the modern Paphos to the inhabit- ants of the ancient. Here, indeed, you must neither look for elegantes, nor muscadins^ but you may view belles, less gifted by Fortune, in* dulging in innocent recreation, and for a while dispelling their cares, by dancing to the exhilarat- ing music of an orchestra not ill composed. Here, the grisette banishes the ennui of six days* application to the labours of her industry, by footing it away on Sunday. Hither, in short, the less refined sons and daughters of mirth repair to see and be seen, and to partake of the genera) diversion, Paphos is situated on that part of the Bou- levard, called the Boulevard die Temple, whither I was led the other evening by that sort of curi- osity, which can be satisfied only whence ob- jects that afford it aliment are exhausted. I had just come out of another place of public amuse- ment, at no great distance, called A SKETCH OP PARIS. 433 LA PHANTASMAGORIE. This is an exhibition in the Cour des Capu- cines, adjoining to the Boulevard, where Robert- son, a skilful professor of physics, amuses or terrifies his audience by the appearance of spectres, phantoms, &c. In the piece which I saw, called Le Tombeau de Robespierre, he carries illusion to an extraordinary degree of re- finement. His cabinet of physics is rich, and his effects of optics are managed in the true style of French gallantry. His experiments of galvanism excite admiration. He repeats the difficult ones of M. Volt a, and clearly demonstrates the elec- trical phenomena presented by the metallic pile. A hundred disks of silver and a hundred pieces of zinc are sufficient for him to produce attrac- tions, sparks, the divergency of the electrometer, and electric hail. He charges a hundred Ley- den bottles by the simple contact of the metallic pile. Robertson, I understand, is the first who has made these experiments in Paris, and has succeeded in discharging Volta's pistol by the galvanic spark. Fitjames, a famous ventriloquist, entertains and astonishes the company by a display of his powers, which are truly surprising. You may, perhaps, be desirous to procure your family circle the satisfaction of enjoying the VOL. I. F F 434 A SKETCH OP PARIS. Phantasmagoria, though not on the grand scale on which it is exhibited by Robertson. By the communication of a friend, I am happy in being enabled to make you master of the se- cret, as nothing can be more useful in the education of children than to banish from their mind the deceitful illusion of ghosts and hob- goblins, which they are so apt to imbibe from their nurses. But to the point — " You have/' says my author, " only to call in the first itinerant foreigner, who perambulates the streets with a galantee-shoiv (as it is commonly termed in London), and by imparting to him your wish, if he is not deficient in intelligence and skill, he will soQn be able to give you a rehearsal of the apparition of phantoms : for, by approaching or withdrawing the stand of his show, and finding the focus of his glasses, you will see the objects diminish or enlarge either on the white wall, or the sheet that is extended. " The illusion which leads us to imagine that an object which increases in all its parts, is advancing towards us, is the basis of the Phantasmagoria, and, in order to produce it with the galantee-show, you have only to with- draw slowly the lantern from the place on which the image is represented, by approaching the outer lens to that on which the object is traced: this is easily done, that glass being A SKETCH OF PARIS. 435 fixed in a moveable tube like that of an opera- glass. As for approaching the lantern gradually, it may be effected with the same facility, by placing it on a little table with castors, and, by means of a very simple mechanism, it is evi- dent that both these movements may be ex- ecuted together in suitable progression. " The deception recurred to by phantasma- gorists is further increased by the mystery that conceals, from the eyes of the public, their operations and optical instruments: but it is easy for the showman to snatch from them this superiority, and to strengthen the illusion for the children whom you choose to amuse with this sight. For that purpose, he has only to change the arrangement of the sheet, by requiring it to be suspended from the ceiling, between him and the spectators, much in the same manner as the curtain of a playhouse, which separates the stage from the public. The transparency of the cloth shews through it the coloured rays, and, provided it be not of too thick and too close a texture, the image presents itself as clear on the one side as on the other. " If to these easy means you could unite those employed by Robertson, such as the black hangings, which absorb the coloured rays, the little musical preparations, and others, you f v 2 436 A SKETCH OF PARIS* might transform all the galantee-shoivs into as many phantasmagorias, in spite of the priority of invention, which belongs, conscientiously, to Father Kircher, a German Jesuit, who first found means to apply his knowledge respecting light to the construction of the magic lan- tern, u The coloured figures, exhibited by the phatasmagorists, have no relation to these ef- fects of light: they are effigies covered with gold-beater's skin, or any other transparent sub- stance, in which is placed a dark lantern. The light of this lantern is extinguished or concealed by pulling a string, or touching a spring, at the moment when any one wishes to seize on the figure, which, by this contrivance, seems to disappear. fc The proprietors of the grand exhibitions of phantasmagoria join to these simple means a combination of different effects, which they partly derive from the phenomena presented by the camera obscura. Some faint idea of that part of physics, called optics, which Newton illuminated, by his genius and experience, arc sufficient for conceiving the manner in which these appearances are produced, though they require instruments and particular care to give them proper effect.' 5 A SKETCH OF PARIS, 43? Such is the elucidation given of the phan- tasmagoria by an intelligent observer, whose friend favoured me with this communication. LETTER XXXVIL Paris, December 21, 1801% If Paris affords a thousand enjoyments to the man of fortune, it may truly be said that, with- out money, Paris is the most melancholy abode in the world. Privations are then the more painful, because desires and even wants are ren- dered more poignant by the ostentatious dis- play of every object which might satisfy them. What more cruel for an unfortunate fellow, with an empty purse, than to pass by the kitchen of a restaurateur, w r hen, pinched by hunger, he has not the means of procuring himself a din- ner ? His olfactory nerves being still more readily affected when his stomach is empty, far from affording him a pleasing sensation, then serve only to sharpen the torment which he suffers. It is worse n than the punishment of Tantalus, who, dying with thirst, could not drink, though up to his chin in water. Really, my dear friend, I would advise every rich epicure to fix his residence in this city. Without being plagued by the details of house- 3 438 A SKETCH OF PARIS. keeping, or even at the trouble of looking at a bill of fare, he might feast his eye, and his appetite too, on the inviting plumpness of $ turkey, stuffed with truffles. A boar's head set before him, with a Seville orange between its tusks, might make him fancy that he was dis- cussing the greatest interests of mankind at the table of an Austrian Prime Minister, or British Secretary of State ; while pates of Chartres or of Perigord hold out to his discriminating palate all the refinements of French seasoning. These, and an endless variety of other dainties, no less tempting, might he contemplate here^ in walking past a magazin de comestibles 01 provision-warehouse. Among the changes introduced here, within these few years, I had heard much of the im- provements in the culinary art, or rather in the manner of serving up its productions; but, on my first arrival in Paris, I was so constantly engaged in a succession of dinner-parties, that some time elapsed before I could avail myself of an opportunity of dining at the house of any of the fashionable RESTAURATEURS. This is a title of no very ancient date in Paris. Traiteurs have long existed here: inde- pendently of furnishing repasts $t home, these A SKETCH OP PARIS. * 43g traiteurs, like Birch in Cornhill, or any other famous London cook, sent out dinners and sup- pers. But, in 1765, one Boulanger conceived the idea of restoring the exhausted animal func- tions of the debilitated Parisians by rich soups of various denominations. Not being a traiteur, it appears that he was not authorized to serve ragouts; he therefore, in addition to his resto- rative soups, set before his customers new-laid eggs and boiled fowl with strong gravy sauce : those articles were served up without a cloth, on little marble tables. Over his door he placed the following inscription, borrowed from Scripture : $c Venite ad me omnes qui stomacho laboratis, et " ego restaurabo vos" Such was the origin of the word and profession of restaurateur. Other cooks, in imitation of Boulanger, set up as restorers, on a similar plan, in all the places of public entertainment where such establish- ments were admissible. Novelty, fashion, and, above all, dearness, brought them into vogue. Many a person who would have been ashamed to be seen going into a traiteurs, made no hesitation of entering a restaurateur s, where he paid nearly double the price for a dinner of the same descrip- tion. However, as, in all trades, it is the great number of customers that enrich the trader, rather than the select few, the restaurateurs, in 440 A SKETCH OF PARIS. order to make their business answer, were soon under the necessity of constituting themselves traiteurs; so that, in lieu of one title, they now possess two ; and this is the grand result of the primitive establishment. At the head of the most noted restaurateurs in Paris, previously to the revolution, was La Bar- mere, in the ci-devant Palais Royal ; but, though his larder was always provided with choice food, his cellar furnished with good wines, his bill of fare long, and the number of his customers con- siderable, yet his profits, he said, were not suffi- ciently great to allow him to cover his tables with linen. This omission was supplied by green wax cloth; a piece of economy which, he declared, produced hirn a saving of near 10,000 livres (circa 4<)0j£ sterling) per annum in the single article of washing. Hence you may form an idea of die extent of such an undertaking. I have often dined at La Barriere's, and was always well served, at a moderate charge, and with re- markable expedition. Much about that time, Beauvilliers, who had opened, within the same precincts, a similar establishment, but on a more refined plan, proved a most formidable rival to La Barriers, and at length eclipsed him. After a lapse of almost eleven years, I again find this identical Beauvilliers still in the full enjoyment of the greatest celebrity. Robert A SKETCH OP PARIS. 441 and Naudet in the Palais du Tribunal, a: d Very on the Terrace des Feuiilans, dispute with him the palm in the art of Apicius. All these, it is trae, furnish excellent repasts, and their wines are not inferior to their cooking: but, after more than one impartial trial, I think I am justified in giving the preference to Beauvilliers. Let us then take a view of his arrangements: this, with a few variations in price or quality, will serve as a general picture of the ars coquinaria in Paris. On the first floor of a large hotel, formerly oc- cupied, perhaps, by a farmer-general, you enter a suite of apartments, decorated with arabesques, and mirrors of large dimensions, in a style no less elegant than splendid, where tables are completely arranged for large or small parties. In winter, these rooms are warmed by ornamental stoves, and lighted by quinquets, a species of Argand's lamps. They are capable of accommodating from two hundred and fifty to three hundred persons, and, at this time of the year, the average number that dine here daily is about two hundred; in summer, it is considerably decreased by the at- tractions of the country, and the parties of plea- sure made, in consequence, to the environs of the capital. On the left hand, as you pass into the first room, rises a sort of throne, not unlike the es- frado in the grand audience-chamber of a Spanish 442 A SKETCH OF PARIS. viceroy. This throne is encircled by a barrier to keep intruders at a respectful distance. Here fiits a lady, who, from her majestic gravity and dignified bulk, you might very naturally suppose, to be an empress, revolving in her comprehensive mind the affairs of her vast dominions. This respectable personage is Madame Beauvilliers, whose most interesting concern is to collect from the gentlemen in waiting the cash which they receive at the different tables. In this important branch, she has the assistance of a lady, somewhat younger than herself, who, seated by her side, in stately silence, has every appearance of a maid of honour. A person in waiting near the throne, from his vacant look and obsequious carriage, might, at first sight, be taken for a chamberlain; whereas his real office, by no means an unim- portant one, is to distribute into deserts the fruit and other el ceteras, piled up within his reach in tempting profusion. We will take our seats in this corner, whence, without laying down our knife and fork, w r e can enjoy a full view of the company as they enter. We are rather early : by the clock, I perceive that it is no more than five: at six, however, there will scarcely be a vacant seat at any of the tables. " Garcon, la carte ft- — f| La voild de- ft vant vous, Monsieur" Good heaven ! the bill of fare is a printed A SKETCH OF PARIS. 443 sheet of double 'folio, of the size of an English newspaper. It will require half an hour at least to con over this important catalogue. Let us see ; Soups, thirteen sorts. — Hors-d'oeuvres, twenty-two species. — Beef, dressed in eleven different ways. — Pastry, containing fish, flesh and fowl, in eleven shapes. Poultry and game, under thirty-two various forms. — Veal, amplified into twenty-two distinct articles. — Mutton, confined to seventeen only. — Fish, twenty-three varieties. — Roast meat, game, and poultry, of fifteen kinds. — Entremets, or side-dishes, to the number of forty-one articles. — Desert, thirty-nine. — Wines, including those of the liqueur kind, of fifty-two denominations, besides ale and porter. — Liqueurs, twelve species, together with coffee and ices. Fudge ! fudge ! you cry — Pardon me, my good friend, 'tis no fudge. Take the tremendous bill of fare into your own hand. Vide et lege. As w T e are in no particular hurry, travel article by article through the whole enumeration. This will afford you the most complete notion of the expense of dining at a fashionable restaurateur $ }ii Paris. 444 A SKETCH OF PARIS. BEAUVILLIERS, RESTAURATEUR, Anciennement a lagran.de Tavernede laliepiibUque i Palais-Egalke, No. 142, Presentement Ruedela LOT, No. 1243. FRIXDES METSPOUR UNE PERSON NE. LES ARTICLES DONT LES PRIX NE SONT POINT FIXES, MANQUENT. POTAGES. fr. s. Potage aux laitues et petits pdis 0 15 Potage aux croutons a la puree 0 15 Potage aux choux 0 15 Potage au consomme 0 12 Potage au pain 0 12 Potage de sante , 0 12 Potage au vermicel 0 12 Potage au ris 0 12 Potage a la julienne 0 12 Potage prin tan ier 0 15 Potage a h puree 0 15 Potage au lait d'amandes 0 15 Potage en tortue 1 10 HORS-D'OEUVRES. Tranche de melon 1 0 Artichaud a la poivrade J . 0 15 Raves et Radis 0 6 Salade de concombres 1 10 Tbon marine 1 10 Anchois a rhuile. , 1 5 Olives 0 15 Pied de cochon a la Sainte-Menehould 0 12. Cornichons 0 8 Petit sale aux choux I . u. 1 5 A SKETCH OF PAKtS. 445 fr- s. Saucisses aux choux * Li 0 lb 1 Petit Pain de Beurre 0 4 2 CEufs frais . 0 12 1 Citron 0 S Rissole a la Choisy. 1 0 Croquette de volaille 1 4 3 Rognons a la brochette 1 0 Tete de veau en tortue 2 5 Tcte de veau au naturel 1 0 1 Cotelette de pore frais, sauce robert 1 0 Chou-Crofite garni 1 10 Jambon de Mayence aux epinards 1 5 ENTREES DE BCEUF. Bceuf au naturel ou a la sauce 0 15 Eoeuf aux choux ou aux legumes 0 IS Carnebif. J 10 Rosbif: 1 5 Filet de Eceuf saute dans sa glace 1 5 Bifteck 1 5 Entre-cote, sauce aux cornichons 1 5 Palais de Rceuf au gratin 1 4 Palais de Bceuf a la poulette ou a l'ltalienne 1 0 Langue de Bceuf glacee aux epinards 1 0 Jarrets de veau 0 15 ENTREES DE PATISSERIE. Fate chaud de legumes. . 1 5 2 petits Pates a la Bechamel. 1 4 2 petits Pates au jus 0 10 1 Pate chaud d'anguille 1 io 1 Pate chaud de cretes ct de rognons de coqs 2 O Tourte de godiveau I 0 Tourte aux confitures . , . . , U 1 5 Vol-au-Veiit de filets de volailles 2 0 446 A SKETCH OF PARIS. Yol-au-Vent de Saumon frais 1 lO Vol-au-Vent de morue a la Bechamel 1 5 Vol-au-Vent de cervelle de veau a PAUemande 1 5 ENTREES DE VOLAILLES. (Toutcs les entries aux Trnffes sont de 15 de plus J. Caille aux petits pois 2 10 Pigeon h la crapaudine 2 10 Chapon au riz, le quart 2 15 Chapon au gros sel, le quart 2 10 Demi-poulet aux TrurTes ou aux Huitres 4 0 Fricassee de poulets garnie. la moitie 3 10 Fricassee de poulets, la moitie 3 0 Salad* de volaille 3 0 Friteau de poulet, la moitie. . » 3 0 Demi-poulet a la ravigotte ou a la tartare 3 0 Marinade de poulet, la moitie 3 0 Le quart d'un poulet a l'estragon ou a la creme oul ^ ^ aux laitues ^ Blanquette de poularde 2 10 1 cuisse de poulet aux petits pois 2 0 1 cuisse de volaille au jambon 2 0 2 cotelettes de poulet , 3 0 1 cuisse ou afle de poulet en papillote 1 10 1 cuisse de poulet a la Proven^ale 1 10 Ragout iTiele de cretes et de rognons de coqs 3 0 Capilotade de volaille 3 0 Filet de poularde au supreme. 3 0 Mayonaise de volaille 3 0 Cuisses de Dindon grillees, sauce robert 3 0 Le quart d'un Canard aux petits pois ou aux navets. ... 110 Foie gras en caisses ou en matelote. Perdrix aux choux, la moitie Salmi de perdreau au viii'de Champagne. , Pigeons en compote ou aux petits pois. . , 2 30 A SKETCH OP PARIS. 44/ fr. s. Bechamel de blanc de volaille ; 2 10 2. cuisses de poulet en hocliepot 1 10 Ailerons de dinde aux navets 1 10 Blanc de volaille aux concombres 3 0 ENTREES DE VEAU. Riz de veau pique, a l'oseille ou a la chicoree 2 0 Riz de veau a la poulette 2 0 Fricandeau aux petits pois 1 5 Fricandeau a la chicoree I 4 Fricandeau a la ravigotte 1 4 Fricandeau a l'oseille 1 4 Fricandeau a l'Espagnole 1 4 Cotelette de veau au jambon 1 4 Cotelette de veau aux petits pois 1 10 Cotelette de veau en papillotte 1 5 Cotelette de veau panee, sauce piquante 1 0 Cotelette de veau, sauce tomate 1 5 Blanquette de veau I 0 Oreille de veau a la ravigotte 1 4 Oreille de veau farcie, frite 1 4 Oreille de veau frite ou en marinade. . , 1 4 Cervelle de veau en matelote • 1 4 Cervelie de veau a la puree 1 4 Tendons de veau panes, grilles, sauce piquante 1 4 Tendons de veau a la poulette - 1 4 Tendons de veauenmacedoine 1 5 Tendons de veau aux petits pois 1 5 ENTREES DE MOUTON. Gigot de mouton braise, aux legumes 1 0 Tendons de mouton grilles. . . . 0 18 Tendons de mouton aux petits pois..... 1 5 Hachi de mouton a la Portugal se 1 0 2 Cotelettes de mouton a la minute. 1 5 448 A SKETCH OF PARIS. 2 Cotelettes de mouton aux racines. « 1 5 5 Cotelettes de mouton au naturel 0 18 2 Cotelettes de pre 1 0 Epigramme d'3gneau 2 Cotelettes d'agneau au naturel. Tendons d'agneau aux pointes d'asperges Tendons d'agneau aux petits pois Blanquette d'agneau Filet de chevreuil 1 5 Cotelette de chevreuil. . Queue de mouton a la puree 1 $ Queue de mouton a l'oseille ou a la chicoree 1 5 ENTREES DE POISSONS. Merlan frit Maquereau a la maitre d'h&tel.. Saumon frais, sauce aux capres 2 10 Raie, sauce aux capres ou au beurre noir 1 10 Turbot, sauce aux capres . . 2 10 Cabillaud Morue fraiche au beurre fondu. . ' * Morue d'Hol. a la maitre-d'h&tel ou a la Proven cale. . 110 Sole frite Sole sur le plat 5 0 Eperlans frits „. Barbue Turbotin Matelote de carpe et d'anguille 2 0 Troncon d'anguille a la tartare 1 10 Carpe frite, la moitie 2 O Perche du Rhin a la Vallesfiche Goujons frits 1 5 Truile au bleu liaitslnce de carpe Mo u. 1 : i poulette J 1 5 A SKETCH OF PARIS, 440 fr. t., Homard 3 0 Esturgeon 2 10 r6ts. $ecasse • ; ; ; 3 Mauviettes Poularde fine gfh la moitic 4 10 Poulet Normand, 7fr. la moitie 3 10 Poulet gras, 6fr. la moitic . . 3 0 1 Pigeon de voliere 2 10 Perdreau rouge Perdreau gris T 3 10 Caneton de Rouen. r . Caille 2 0 Agneau Veau 1 0 Mouton Levreau ; Grive Obergine 1 10 ENTREMETS. Gelee de citron 1 10 Concombres a la Bechamel , 1 10 Laituesajus 1 10 Petits pois a la Francaise ou a 1'Anglaise. 1 1.0 Haricots verts a la poulette ou h TAnglaise. 1 10 Haricots blancs a la maitre-d'hotel, 0 18 \Feves de marais * 1 10 Artichaud a la sauce 1 10 Artichaud a la barigoul 1 10 Artichaud frit. • • . « I 5 Truffes au vin de Champagne. Tniffes a lltalienne - Croute aux truffes - Navets 0 1* VOL. la G P 450 A SKETCH OF PABIS. Carottes. . ... ......... ..^ 0 18 Epinards au jus, ....................... 0 IS Chicoree au jus . ............ 1 5 Celeri au jus . Choux-fleurs a la sauce ou au parmesan . . . 1 10 Macedoine de legumes. < . 1 5 Pommes de terre a la maitre-d'hotel. 0 1§ Champignons a la Bordelaise 1 4 Croutes aux champignons. 1 10 CEufs brouilles au jus. . 6 . 0 15 QEufs au beurre noir * . 1 Q Omelette aux fines herbes . c . . 0 15 0 5 10 10 10 0 10 Omelette aux rognons ou au jambon. 1 Omelette au sucre ou aux confitures 1 Omelette soufflee 1 Beignets de pommes 1 Charlotte de pommes 1 Charlotte aux confitures 2 Hiz souffle 1 Souffle aux pommes de terre 1 10 Le petit pot de creme. 0 10 Macaroni d'ltalie au parmesan 1 5 Fondu 1 4 Plumpuding 1 10 Ecrevisses „ 2 0 Salade 1 0 DESSERT. Cerneaux. ......... 015 Raisins 1 5 Fraises Censes Groseilles. ......... Framboises Abricot 0 8 Peche. ............ 0 12 Prunes.. 0 3 Figue 0 5 Amandes .......... 0 15 Noisettes .......... 0 12 Pommes a la Portugaise Poires. , , ...... 0 $ A SKETCH OF PARIS. 451 } Pomme. . 77,. 77. . . . Compote de verjus \ epepinc Compote d'epine- vinette .... Compote de poires. . 1 Compote de pommes Compote de eerises. . 1 Nix Vert 0 Meringue 0 Compote de groseilles 1 Compote d'abricot. . , 1 Compote de peche. . 1 Confitures • 1 Cerises liquides 1 Clarette, 6 4 10 8 4 4 4 4 4 fr. s. Marmelade d'abricot* 1 It) Gelee de groseilles. . 1 4 Biscuit a la creme. . . 1 S Fromage a la creme. . 1 10 Fromage de Roquefort 0 10 Fromage de Viry. ... 015 Fromage de Gruyere. 0 8 de Neufchatel. 0 5 Fromage de Clo- \ ^ ^ chestre ou Chester ■* Cerises a Feau-de-vie 0 12 Prunes a Teau-de-vie 0 12 Abricots al'eau-de-vie Peches a 1'eau-de-vie VINS. n de Bourgogne. . 1 n de Chablis 2 n de Beaune. ... 2 n de Mulsaux 3 n de Montrachet. . 3 n de Pomard. ... 3 n de Volnay. ..... 3 n de Nuits 3 n de Grave 5 5 5 n de Soterne. . n de Cham- 0 15 0 5 0 10 10 10 10 0 0 } pagne mousseux Vin de champagne mousseux. . Tisane de Champagne 3 Vin de Rose 5 \ r in de Sllery rouge. , 6 4 0 10 0 0 Vin de Silery blanc. . 6 Vin de Pierri 5 Vin d'A'i 5 Vin de Porto 6 La tour 6 Vin de Cote-Rotie. . 5 VinduClosVougeot de 88 Clos St. Georges. . , Vin de Pomarel. . . Vin du Rhin. 8 Vin de Chambertin. . 5 Vin de P Hermitage"! rouge S Vin de Y Hermitage \ blanc i Vin de la Romance, . Romance Conti. W9 : ',\ Q 0 0 0 0 0 7 4 6 6 0 0 0 0 5 Q 6 0 0 0 e0 432 A SKETCH OF PARIS* Vin de Richebourg. . 5 Chevalier montrachet 6 VindeVone 5 Vin de Bordeaux de \ Segur fr. s. 0 0 0 5 0 Vin de Bordeaux Lafite Vin de Saint Emilion Bierre forte ou porter. Bier re 5 0 5 0 2 0 0 10 Vin de Chereste, demi-bouteille Vin de Malvoisie, idem 4 Made re sec id , 4 Malaga r 3 Alicante id., 3 Muscat 3 Le petit verre 0 30 VINS DE LIQUEURS* Vermoulth. 4 0 0 0 0 0 0 Chipre Calabre faille Palme Constance .... Tokai Le petit verre. LIQUEURS Anisetted'Hollande. . 0 15 Anisette de Bordeaux 0 12 Eau-de-vie d'Andaye 0 10 Pleard'Orange 0 10 Cuirasseau 0 10 Hhurn 0 10 Kirschewaser 0 10 Eau Cordiale de Co radon } 0 It } Liqueurs des Isles, Marasquin. . . , Eau-de- vie de Dant- zick Eau-de-vie de Coignac Case, latasse 12s. la\ demie i Glace 1 0 0 15 0 15 0 1$ 0 8 0 8 0 15 One advantage, well deserving of notice, of this bill of fare with the price annexed to each ar- ticle, is, that, when you have made up your mind as to what you wish to have for dinner, you have it in your power, before you give the order, to ascertain the expense. But, though ¥014 see the price of each 4ish, you see not tUe A SKETCH OF PAEIS* 453 dish itself; and when it comes on the table, you may, perhaps, be astonished to find that a pom- pous, big-sounding name sometimes produces only a scrap of scarcely three mouthfuls. It is the mountain in labour delivered of a mouse. However, if you are not a man of extraordinary appetite, you may, for the sum of nine or ten francs, appease your hunger, drink your bottle of Champagne or Burgundy, and, besides, assist di- gestion by a dish of coffee and a glass of liqueur. Should you like to partake of two different sorts of wine, you may order them, and drink at plea- sure of both ; if you do not reduce the contents below the moiety, you pay only for the half bottle. A necessary piece of advice to you as a stranger, is, that, while you are dispatching your first dish, you should take care to order your se- cond, and so on in progression to the end of the chapter: otherwise, for want of this precaution, when the company is very numerous, you may, probably, have to wait some little time between the acts, before you are served. This is no trifling consideration, if you purpose, after dinner, to visit one of the principal theatres: for, if a new or favourite piece be announced, the house is full, long before the raising of the cur* tain; and you not only find no room at the theatre to which you first repair; byt, in all pro- 454 A SKETCH OP PARIS. bability^ this disappointment will follow you to every other for that evening. Nevertheless-, ten or fifteen minutes are suffi- cient for the most dainty or troublesome dish to undergo its final preparation, and in that time you will have it smoking on the table. Those which admit of being completely prepared beforehand, are in a constant state of readiness, and require only to be set over the fire to be warmed. Each cook has a distinct branch to attend to in the kitchen, and the call of a particular waiter to answer, as each waiter has a distinct number of tables, and the orders of particular guests to obey In the dining-rooms. In spite of the confused noise arising from the gabble of so many tongues, there being probably eighty or a hundred persons calling for different articles, many of whom are hasty and impatient, such is the habitual good order observed, that seldom does any mistake occur; the louder the vociferations of the hungry guests, the greater the diligence of the alert waiters. Should any article, when served, happen not to suit your taste, it is taken back and changed without the slightest murmur. The difference betw r een the establishments of the fashionable restaurateurs before the revo- lution, and those in vogue at the present day, is, that their profession presenting many candi- A SKETCH OF PARIS. 455 dates for public favour, they are under the con- tinual necessity of employing every resource of art to attract customers, and secure a continuance of them. The commodiousness and elegance of their rooms, the savouriness of their cooking, the quality of their wines, the promptitude of their attendants, all are minutely criticized; and, if they study their own interest, they must neglect nothing to flatter the eyes and palate. In fact, how do they know that some of their epicurean guests may not have been of their own fraternity, and once figured in a great French family as chef de cuisine f Of course, with all this increase of luxury, you must expect an increase of expense: bat if you do not now dine here at so reasonable a rate as for- merly, at least you are sumptuously served for your money. If you wish to dine frugally, there are numbers of restaurateurs, where you may be decently served with potage, imtitii, an entree, an entremet, bread and desert, for the moderate sum of from twenty-six to thirty sous. The addresses of these cheap eating-houses, if they are not put into your hand in the street, will present them- selves to your eye, at the corner of almost every wall in Paris. Indeed, all things considered, I am of opinion that the difference in the expense of a dinner at a restaurateur s at present, and what it 456 A SKETCH OF PARISH was ten or eleven years ago, is not more tli&n iri the due proportion of the increased price of pro- visions, house-rent, and taxes. The difference the most worthy of remark m these rendezvous of good cheer, unquestionably consists in the company who frequent them. In former times, the dining-rooms of the fashionable restaurateurs were chiefly resorted to by young men of good character and connexions, just en- tering into life, superannuated officers and bat- ehelors in easy circumstances, foreigners on their travels, &c. At this day, these are, in a great measure, succeeded by stock-jobbers, contractors, fortunate speculators, and professed gamblers. In defiance of the old proverb, " le ventre est le cc plus grand cle tous nos ennemis" guttling and guzzling is the rage of these upstarts. It is by no means uncommon to see many of them begin their dinner by swallowing six or seven dozen of oysters and a bottle of white wine, by way of laying a foundation for a potage en tortue and eight or ten other rich dishes. Such are the mo- dern parvenus, whose craving appetites, in eating #nd drinking, as in every thing else, are not easily satiated. It would be almost superfluous to mention, that where rich rogues abound, luxurious courtesans are at no great distance, were it not for the sake A SKETCH OP PARIS. 457 of remarking that the former often regale the latter at the restaurateurs, especially at those houses which afford the convenience of snug, little rooms, called cabinets particuliers. Here, two persons, w r ho have any secret affairs to settle, enjoy all possible privacy; for even the waiter never has the imprudence to enter without being called. In these asylums, Love arranges under his Jaws many individuals not suspected of sacrificing at the shrine of that wonder-working deity. Prudes, whose virtue is the universal boast, and whose austerity drives thousands of beaux to despair, sometimes make themselves amends for the re- serve which they are obliged to affect in public, by indulging in a private tHe-a-tHe in these myste- rious recesses. In them too, young lovers fre- quently interchange the first declarations of eternal affection ; to them many a husband owes the happiness of paternity; and without them the gay wife might, perhaps, be at a loss to deceive her jealous Argus, and find an opportunity of lending an attentive ear to the rapturous ad- dresses of her aspiring gallant. What establishment then can be more con- venient than that of a restaurateur ? But you would be mistaken, were you to look for cabinets particuliers at every house of this denomination. Here, at Beau villiers', for instance, you wiH 458 A SKETCH OP PARIS, find no such accommodation, though if you dislike dining in public, you may have a private room proportioned to the number of a respectable party: or, should you be sitting at home, and just before the hour of dinner, two or three friends call in unexpectedly, if you wish to enjoy their company in a quiet, sociable manner, you have only to dispatch your valet de place to Beauvil- JjIers' or to the nearest restaurateur of repute, for the bill of fare, and at the same time desire him to bring table-linen, knives, silver forks, spoons, and all other necessary appurtenances, While he is laying the cloth, you fix on your dinner, and, in little more than a quarter of an hour, yox\ have one or two elegant oourses, dressed in a capital style, set out on the table. As for wine, if you find it cheaper, you can procure that article from some respectable wine-mer-? chant in the neighbourhood. In order to save trouble, many single persons, and even small families now scarcely ever cook at home; but either dine at a restaurateur or have their dinners constantly furnished from one of these sources of culinary perfection. But, while I am relating to you the advantages, of these establishments, time flies apace : 'tis six o'clock. — If you are not disposed to drink more wine, let us have some coffee and our bilL A SKETCH OP PARIS* 45Q When you want to pay, you say: a Gar f on, la (C carte pay ante /" The waiter instantly flies to a person, appointed for that purpose, to whom he dictates your reckoning. On consulting your stomach, should you doubt what you have con- sumed, you have only to call in the aid of your memory, and you will be perfectly satisfied that you have not been charged with a single article too much or too little. Remark that portly man, so respectful in his demeanour. It is Beauvilliers, the master of the house; this is his most busy hour, and he will now make a tour to inquire at the different tables, if his guests are all served according to their wishes. He will then, like an able general, take a central station, whence he can command a view of all his dispositions. The person, appa- rently next in consequence to himself, and who seems to have his mind absorbed in other objects, is the butler : his thoughts are, with the wine lander his care, in the cellar. Observe the cleanly attention of the waiters, neatly habited in close-bodied vests, with white aprons before them : watch the quickness of their motions, and you will be convinced that no scouts of a eatnp could be more on the alert. An esta- blishment* so extremely well conducted, excites admiration, Every spring of the machine duly 46(> A SKETCH OF PARIS. performs its office; and the regularity of the whole might serve as a model for the administra-* tion of an extensive State. Repair then, ye mo- dern .Machiavels, to N° 1243, Rue de la Loi; and, while you are gratifying your palate, imbibe in~* gtruction from Beauvilliers. 2ND OF THE FIRST VOLVM2L C. and R- Baldwin, Printers, New Bridge-street, London. J