386.

A Trip to Paris in August and September 1815.

tife courts before these grand mansions, which for the most part are built upon a large scale, and furnished in an elegant and splendid manner. The parts adjoining to this quarter, drawing towards the cathedral of Notre Dame, are as bad as the opposite side for the narrowness and dirtiness of the streets. But the grand and extensive view which presents itself to a spectator placed on one of the bridges over the Seine, may well fill his mind with wonder and delight. As far as the eye can reach to his right and left he beholds the wide parades or quays along each side of the broad bed of the Seine, crossed by numerous bridges, crowded below with baths, boats, and washing places. On his right the view terminates with the towers of the church of Notre Dame; before him extends it self the fine edifice of the Louvre, and the immensely long gallery connecting it with the Tuileries; then the gardens of the Tuileries delight his eye, immediately connected in appearance with the Champs Elysées, whose rich foliage stretches along the Seine till the perspective is bounded by the horizon. If the spectator turns round be sees on the other shore of the Seine the same spacious quays, and the fine buildings of the French Institute, the Mint, the house of the king's body guard, and the palace of the Legion of Honour, near which a new palace has been begun. The Palais Bourbon on this same side stands too far off, and too much in profile, to improve this view by its uncommonly elegant architecture.

Next to this scene in interest and beauty must be reckoned the Boulevards. These divide the original town of Paris from the Faubourgs (euburbs). They are a road of great breadth, paved in the middle, several miles in length, like the New and City Roads of London. The houses on each side of this road are of stone, and for the most part of elegant or grand architecture, like private gentlemen's houses, yet interspersed with numerous shops, coffee-houses, restaurateurs, public gardens, and other places of resort. Between these houses and the road there is a very wide space, with one or more rows of trees on each side, besides a sufficient interval between the trees and the houses for stalls with fruit, flowers, prints, books; small booths for roading newspapers, awnings before the coffee-houses for the same purpose; both the road and the footways exhibiting all day long the most busy and entertaining scene imaginable. During the mild

[June 1,

season, towards the evening, you may here see passing waggon-loads of chairs, brought hither to be placed chiefly on the space between the houses and the footways. These are soon occupied by crowd of loungers, chiefly well dressed females, whose only amusement is to sit there quietly to gaze and to be gazed at; whilst from the restaurateurs and confectioners the customers issue in great numbers to increase the throng on the footpaths under the trees. Beyond one of these Boulevards is a new quarter of the town called the Chaussée d'Antin, consisting chiefly of houses inhabited by what are called genteel people, and which were built it is said with assignats when they were obliged to be taken at par.

Paris has no squares to be compared with those of London for size and num ber, unless the Place Louis XV. be reckoned among them. This is a truly grand place: one side of it being formed by the gardens of the Tuileries, the op posite side by the Champs Elysées, a third side by a bridge over the Seine, and the Palais Bourbon, of most elegant archi tecture, and the fourth by the Gardemeuble, two beautiful buildings on each side of the fine Rue royale, through which you will also have a view of s fine palace, began on the opposite side of the Rue faubourg St. Honoré. when it shall be finished. The Plate Vendôme is a square about the size of Soho Square, the houses of stone, and good architecture. In the centre of this place stands the famous column erected by Buonaparte in commemoration of the war which began with the breaking up of the French army from Boulogne, and terminated with the battle of Austerlitz, the principal events of which are re corded by basso-relievos on brass plates made of the cannon taken, and placed on a spiral line round this coluinn' from the bottom to the top. The Place des Fie toires is a square perhaps of about the same size, but not so handsome, as that just mentioned. The Carousel may also be considered as a public place, sЯuated in front of the Palace of the Taileries, which will be greatly increased in grandeur if the improvements begun in that neighbourhood by Buonaparté should be finished.

The gardens of the Tuileries, only parc of which is laid out in the stiff French taste, the Champs Elysées, and the gardens of the Luxembourg, the Palais Royal, and Jardins des Plantes, as places of public resort, with their conveniences of chairs, newspapers, refreshments, &t.

1816,]|

A Trip to Paris in August and September 1815.

give Paris an advantage over London for those who have much time to spend in such places. If a Parisienne of quality were to be led a-walking up and down Hyde Park or Kensington Gardens for several hours without sitting down she would think herself abimée. Whilst the Parisians have the advantage in places of this kind, they are on the other hand deprived of the entertainment which the convenient pavement of London allows the foot-passenger to enjoy anong an endless variety of shops m all parts of that extensive metropolis. In Paris the want of such a pavement and the danger to which the foot-passenger is exposed, if not of being run over, at least of being splashed from head to foot by the carriages driving through the dirty gutters in the middle of the streets, prevents well dressed women from venturing on foot into these streets, which is one of the causes of the difference between the appearance of the people in the streets of Paris and of London, to the great advantage of the latter place. In and about the Palais Royal, the rue St. Honoré, rue Vivienne (the Paris Bond street), &c. there is some attempt at the external decoration of the shops, and some of their signs are paintings by the bands of no mean artists; but in the other parts of the town the neglect of the shopkeepers in this point produces a very sombre appearance. The principal éclat among these shops is produced by those for gilt clocks, of which there is a very considerable one in the Passage du Panorama, making a most splendid appearance by candle-light.

The cuffee houses, and public dining rooms at the restaurateurs are decorated with a splendour, of which the dark and neglected inside of a Parisian's home may be either cause or effect. One would imagine that all Paris dined every day from home, so much are these innumerable public victualling places resorted to throughout the whole day. Certainly at the present time the host of foreign troops adds to the population much of that particular class of people who dine from home. The profusion of large looking-glasses, of gilt clocks, and gold introduced into the painting of the rooms may well surprise a traveller coming from wealthy Britain, where heavy taxation checks all profusion, in these expensive articles in similar public places. In the Caffe du Regent, the whole length of the wall facing the street appears like one looking-glass, from top to bottom. The Caffe militaire, though not large, is

387

most elegantly fitted up with alternate pier-glasses, and fasces of spears, painted and gilt, surmounted by gilt belmets with plumes. HIC GAUDET BELLICOSA VIRTUS is written on the fan-light over the door. The tables in these houses are generally of an inferior red French marble, easily cleaned, and comfortable enough in this warm season. The prac tice of waiters being paid by the cus tomers, as well as that of the masters charging exorbitantly, has been intro duced here by such of the English as have more money than wit, and who used to exclaim: How monstrous cheap it is! a hint that was not lost upon Monsieur le restaurateur, nor upon the boutiquiers male and female. These no sooner observe by the cut of your clothes that you come from England, than their only apprehension in dealing with you appears to be that they may not ask or charge enough. "Pay! what you are accustomed to pay," said a French hairdresser to me, evidently under this apprehension, when I asked him what I had to pay. An attempt to make purchases in the shops myself, without the assistance of a Parisian friend, I was soon obliged to relinquish. The few shops where they pretend not to ask more than they will take have written on the windows: Prix fixe.

The lighting of the streets by lanthorns suspended in the middle by ropes has an unpleasant, unfinished appearance; yet these glass lanthorns are furnished with several lamps and fine oil, and are numerous enough to give sufficient light in these narrow streets. How the peace and safety of these streets is preserved during the night, must appear extraordinary to a stranger who is used to the nu merous watchmen, such as they are, in the streets of London, whilst none are to be seen here; yet all the time that I have been in Paris, I have heard of no street robbery, witnessed no riots, quarrels, or disturbances, but what were made by foreign drunken soldiers. The guardians of the streets of Paris are the national guards, who have their guard houses in different districts, called arrondissements; these are in every respect hetter calculated for such a service, only it would seem that much mischief might be done before they could arrive at the spot, as I never met with any patroling the streets.

The inhabitants of Paris are certainly indebted to Buonaparte for many im provements made by him in their town, useful as well as ornamental. He removed the carcase-butchers from the in

388

A Trip to Paris in August and September 1815.

terior to the skirts of the place, where he built slaughter-houses for them called abattoirs. Many of these are used by the foreign troops for hospitals, and the plan and arrangement of these abattoirs are considered as the best basis for any hospital to be erected upon, principally with regard to cleanliness. The vendors of old clothes and rags have also been removed near to the spot where the Temple formerly stood. Here a large hall has been constructed in the form of open barns, pervious to the air from all sides. The new canal d'Ourque, likewise begun by Buonaparte, is to furnish Paris with wholesome water, and to serve also for cleansing the streets. At present they use no other water here than that of the Seine after it has been filtered; the spring water not being fit to drink, owing to the chalk through which it passes. The tanpers he had not been able to remove from the vicinity of a rivulet which falls into the Seine beyond the Jardin des Plantes, where they make the air very unwholesome. Even the numerous sisterhood of washerwomen have not escaped Napoleon's notice. These are subject to early decrepitude and mortality, from exercising their trade constantly in cold water on the Seine, and in positions very injurious to their healthi.

Paris is not, as it appears to me, so rauch infested with beggars as London, nor are the passenger's eyes here shocked with the exhibitions of all kinds of human deformities by which he is annoyed in London. On the Boulevards you see towards evening a class of solicitors of charity called pauvres honteuses. They are decently dressed women, having their faces covered with a veil or a handkerchief, as if from their situations in life they were ashamed to beg; they appear sometimes as mothers with one or two children; however, the trick, as I am informed, no longer succeeds so well as it did at first. Two soldiers attracted iny notice, playing and singing in the street. One of them had lost his right arm, yet by having the bow fastened to his left side, and with his left hand drawing the fiddle along it, he made out a pretty tolerable tune, and instead of an indecent or political ballad they sung a religious legendary tale in verse, tending to show the good effects of religion; though they have here also their singers of political and amorous ballads, and criers of newspapers, and strolling musi cians playing at the doors of coffee houses, &c. I have been told that the

[June 1, government pays something towards the support of these people, who serve to amuse the public of Paris.

There are several newspapers published daily in Paris. They afford, no doubt, some entertainment to those who feel an interest in the domestic and foreign politics of this nation, but they are destitute of those numerous other ingredients that render a London paper to Englishmen as indispensable an article as their tea; fortunately they can meet with a sufficient supply here of that necessary of life, and also of English magazines and pamphlets, of which the greatest supply is met with in the large reading room of M. Gaglignani, in the rue Vivienne, whilst Bovillier's rooms in the rue Richelieu are their principal resort for good eating and wines.

The difference in the manner of living, between the English and French, is well known. Soup, an indispensable article here at every dinner; vegetables stewed; meat in small pieces dressed in a hundred different ways; no large joints, except a leg of mutton; good poultry, roasted sometimes, but too much so; game; good sallad; fine fruit, and wine, after you become used to it, besides confectionary, and good coffee, bread, with plenty of eggs, form the characteristics of French living; whilst water, alone or mixed with wine, is drunk instead of beer. The water, as well as the wine, is iced in the present warm season.

With all these good things, and innumerable places of public amusement, in a fine climate, it might be supposed that a man might live here very happily; yet are there many most substantial and essential things wanting. Besides the appearance of a scanty diffusion of property through the classes of people below the higher ranks, and of the comforts and decencies arising therefrom, and the want of solidity and independence in the characters of individuals, an irksome meagreness in their conversation is felt by a man habituated to the society in England, unless it be among men of science and literature, who form a distinct class; but as to the real business of life, there is more knowledge and just conception diffused among the middling classes in England, than here, or perhaps any where else. The French nation seem to form only one immense circle, of which their government is the centre, to which every thing converges, from which every thing emanates; whilst the English move in a thousand difcles round their own particular cen

1816.1 Mr. Sharp on Experiments with Bottles sunk in the Ocean.

tres, and the whole with planetary or der revolve round the general centre of the national interest and the government. In this place you hear of none of those numerous meetings daily called together in England, for the purpose of the speculative advantage of the individuals so convened, in the first instance, but ultimately for the benefit of the nation, much less of meetings of such individuals who are linked together by some political sentiment, by attachment to some public character, or even by the endearing recollection of early connexions formed at some public institution for the education of youth. Public spirit is the blood that should pervade the arteries and veins of a free constitution; it is of slow creation; it was so in England, and if it cannot be ultimately furnished by the French nation, they must return to their former absolute monarchy.

Among the governments more or less absolute upon the continent, the best treat their subjects as children who are not supposed either to have a right or a capacity to meddle with matters of go vernment. These subjects are early taught this lesson, and are made to contemplate with distant awe and surprise the wonderful operations of their government, who without ceremony take the money of the subjects out of their pockets, without deigning to give them any account of its application. Such blind submission tends to repress if not to extinguish the noblest of human feelings, -self-respect, the only shield against the temptation to baser crimes, where secresy promises impunity. These governments, by drawing so narrow a circle round the few individuals who share in it, to the exclusion of the talents and knowledge of a great part of the nation, not only deprive themselves of the aid of these auxiliaries, but render themselves incapable of acquiring a true knowledge of those whom they govern, and of mankind in general, as may be easily perceived by any man of observation on entering a circle of continental diplomatists belonging to such governments. Under the French government before the Revolution nothing seemed to be respected but nobility, titled courtiers, and priests, or soldiers. How, in such a state, could the most useful classes of society rise in the estimation of others and of themselves? The Revolution overturned this system; but being begun in violence and ignorance of the true nature of goterment upon principles of liberty, the

380

revolutionists ran into the other extreme.

Stulti dum vitia vitant, in contraria currunt. The scum of society was now to have," an essential participation in the government. This is also gone by, and if it has left a visible effect on the manners of the inferior classes of the people here," among whom there are many who would have rudeness pass for liberty, the Revolution cannot be said, on the other hand, not to have introduced any good change whatever. It cannot but be consoling to every friend of the human species to observe the dawn of a better state of things in France. The trial by jury may be considered as the first school where the young Frenchman is called upon by his country to exercise a most important function, on which the property, nay, the life of his fellow creature depends. I have witnessed this noble function exercised here at Paris to my greatest satisfaction; it was on occasion of the trial of a woman charged with having drowned her own sister. The ability of the judge' in summing up the evidence, pointing out the interest which the prisoner could have in committing the crime, the bearing, the defect, and strength of the evidence brought for and against the pri soner, the talents of the attorney-general in opening the prosecution, and of the counsel for the prisoner, together with the decorum observed by a multitude of spectators during the trial, left nothing to be wished for. When the jury withdrew to consider of the verdict, the awful suspense in which the prisoner was placed impressed on my mind a serious feeling; but a group of French ladies, adutted into the inner court like myself, tell immediately into a lively chat, as between the acts of a play. Another institution, to which the Revolution has given rīse, is the assembly of the grand national councils, whose discussions of the most important measures will afford to the young Frenchman an opportunity to exercise and improve his judgment, and will recal him from the pursuits of egotism and frivolity to employ his talents, stimulated by an honorable emulation for the benefit of his country.

(To be continued.)

MR. EDITOR,

IN your Magazine for this month, I see a letter from W. M. RETLAS, requesting to be informed if any of your scientific correspondents can give any, or what, satisfactory conclusions respecting the experiments of the Rev. Dr.

388

A Trip to Paris in August and September 1815. [June 1,

terior to the skirts of the place, where he built slaughter-houses for them called abattoirs. Many of these are used by the foreign troops for hospitals, and the plan and arrangement of these abattoirs are considered as the best basis for any hospital to be erected upon, principally with regard to cleanliness. The vendors of old clothes and rags have also been removed near to the spot where the Temple formerly stood. Here a large hall has been constructed in the form of open barns, pervious to the air from all sides. The new canal d'Ourque, like wise begun by Buonaparte, is to furnish Paris with wholesome water, and to serve also for cleansing the streets. At present they use no other water here than that of the Seine after it has been filtered; the spring water not being fit to drink, owing to the chalk through which it passes. The tanpers he had not been able to remove from the vicinity of a rivulet which falls into the Seine beyond the Jardin des Plantes, where they make the air very unwholesome. Even the numerous sisterhood of washerwomen have not escaped Napoleon's notice. These are subject to early decrepitude and mortality, from exercising their trade constantly in cold water on the Seine, and in positions very injurious to their healthi.

Paris is not, as it appears to me, so rauch infested with beggars as London, nor are the passenger's eyes here shocked with the exhibitions of all kinds of human deformities by which he is annoyed in London. On the Boulevards you see towards evening a class of solicitors of charity called pauvres honteuses. They are decently dressed women, having their faces covered with a veil or a handkerchief, as if from their situations in life they were ashamed to beg; they appear sometimes as mothers with one or two children; however, the trick, as I am informed, no longer succeeds so well as it did at first. Two soldiers attracted iny notice, playing and singing in the street. One of them had lost his right arm, yet by having the bow fastened to his left side, and with his left hand drawing the fiddle along it, he made out a pretty tolerable tune, and instead of an indecent or political ballad they sung a religious legendary tale in verse, tending to show the good effects of religion; though they have here also their singers of political and amorous ballads, and criers of newspapers, and strolling musi cians playing at the doors of coffee houses, &c. I have been told that the

government pays something towards the support of these people, who serve to amuse the public of Paris.

There are several newspapers published daily in Paris. They afford, no doubt, some entertainment to those who feel an interest in the domestic and foreign politics of this nation, but they are destitute of those numerous other ingredients that render a London paper to Englishmen as indispensable an article as their tea; fortunately they can meet with a sufficient supply here of that necessary of life, and also of English magazines and pamphlets, of which the greatest supply is met with in the large reading room of M. Gaglignani, in the rue Vivienne, whilst Bovillier's rooms in the rue Richelieu are their principal resort for good eating and wines.

The difference in the manner of living, between the English and French, is well known. Soup, an indispensable article here at every dinner; vegetables stewed; meat in small pieces dressed in a hundred different ways; no large joints, except a leg of mutton; good poultry, roasted sometimes, but too much so; game; good sallad; fine fruit, and wine, after you become used to it, besides confectionary, and good coffee, bread, with plenty of eggs, form the characteristics of French living; whilst water, alone or mixed with wine, is drunk instead of beer. The water, as well as the wine, is iced in the present warm season.

With all these good things, and innumerable places of public amusement, în a fine climate, it might be supposed that a man might live here very happily; yet are there many most substantial and essential things wanting. Besides the appearance of a scanty diffusion of property through the classes of people below the higher ranks, and of the comforts and decencies arising therefrom, and the want of solidity and independence in the characters of individuals, an irksome meagreness in their conversation is felt by a man habituated to the society in England, unless it be among men of science and literature, who form a distinct class; but as to the real business of life, there is more knowledge and just conception diffused among the "middling classes in England, than here, or perhaps any where else. The French nation seem to form only one immense circle, of which their government is the centre, to which every thing converges, from which every thing emanates; whilst the English move in a thousand difcles round their own particular cen