And when they wake---when at their prison- And holy meekness, and the sainted smile doors Its all-arousing blast the trumpet pours; [452 Which rapture wreathes on lips unknown to guile. Thougoest before me---some few steps before--- I lose thee in an endless blaze of light !' A TRIP TO PARIS.* PUBLIC BUILDINGS. From the New Monthly Magazine. THE CHURCHES in Paris have been side; but these are not of the same much reduced in number by the style of architecture. The meridian of Revolution, particularly those which Paris is laid down with a brass rod on belonged to monasteries. Many of these the floor of this church, and a contrivhave been turned into hospitals, muse- ance was pointed out to me on the ceil ums, and places for other public pur- ing of the church, to make the rays of poses. With the exception of a few, the sun fall on this meridian at noon. the churches here have no lofty steeples, Buonaparte had several houses pulled which makes the bird's eye view of Paris down in front of this church, and a founstrikingly different from that of the city tain placed in the open space, where its of London, with its numerous steeples. fine architecture may now be viewed to The metropolitan church of Notre Dame advantage. has only two low towers in the shape of truncated cones, and the Pantheon and the cupola of the hospital of the Invalides form the only lofty objects in the view of the buildings of Paris. Notre Dame has nothing remarkable in it for a traveller who has seen the cathedrals of England. The description says that it was 250 years in building, and during the reign of 28 kings, which are very insufficient data; it had formerly immensely large bells; one of the three doors in front, I was told, nobody had ever been able to open; Buonaparte, I imagine, would have cut this Gordian knot, if he had suspected that any thing might be got by it. St. Sulpice is a beautiful structure of Italian architecture, forming two stories of colonnades, without a pediment in the front, which has a tower on each * Concluded from p. 398. La Magdalene is a beautiful rotunda with a cupola, in the rue, or faubourg, St. Honoré. St. Roche, in rue St. Honoré, is a large parish church, with some good statues of saints, and altar pieces. St. St. Eustache, rue Montmartre; St. Jean l'Auxerois, near the Louvre ; Merry, rue St. Martin, which has a gilt ark suspended instead of an altar piece; St. Gervais, near the town hall; besides others; have all some good statues, paintings, or stained glass in them. There are also two, if not more, Protestant churches. Those in the rue St. Honoré and rue St. Antoine are large buildings, and seem to have been Catholic parochial churches. These were shut, it being a week-day. The Catholic churches are open every day, and almost all day long. In these you see at any time of the day a few distressed men and women ejacu lating their sorrows before a crucifix or a picture or statue of a favourite saint, or 453] Public Buildings of Paris.-The Pantheon. [454 The Revolution has left these churches very poor; though I observed organs in several of them, I do not recollect having heard one of them played on, perhaps because the congregations could not afford to pay an organist. some maiden kneeling before a pretty the theatre of the world, the Greeks and image or statue of the Virgin Mary, or the Romans, bore a serious respect for of St. Genevieve with a lamb, whispering their religious institutions in their best a short prayer, then rising, making the eras, and declined when their minds sign of the cross with her thumb on her relaxed into irreligious levity; a bad forehead, on her lips, and upon her breast, prognostic for every modern nation, atwhilst she is dropping a courtesy to the tempting to emulate these nations in image, repeating the same ceremony on glory, and beginning even with that regoing out at the door, and besprinkling laxation with which those nations ended herself with holy water, found in marble their career. basons at the entrance of every church. This is water, over which the priests in a solemn manner have pronounced their prayer, that every one, who shall use it devoutly, may be purified from all sinful propensities; a ceremony which one might suppose to be a substitute for the The Pantheon, formerly the church of lustrations of the Pagans. Indeed, the St. Genevieve, near the old church, numerous ceremonies of the church of bearing still that name, stands on, I beRome might lead one to imagine that lieve, the highest ground within Paris, the early directors of the Christian and furnishes one of the finest objects in churches endeavoured gradually to bring the view of that city by its lofty and eleover the Pagans into their community, gant cupola. It is surrounded by a galby finding them substitutes for the many lery, like that of St. Paul's in London, rites of their religion, which were inter- but it is on that account thought by woven with all their daily domestic con- many people to be not so elegant as the cerns in every place. The incorporeal, omnipresent, omniscient, divine spirit worshipped by the enlightened few, the Mens quæ agitat molem et magno se corpore miscet, it was thought necessary to represent to the gross minds of the multitude as Jupiter in thunder, Ceres in the fields, Pan in the woods, Flora in the gardens, and as the Lares, or household gods, by their fire-sides. Moses himself from whom we receive the sublimest idea of the spirituality and unity of God, appears as if he had been sensible of the necessity of pointing out to the gross minds of the Israelites a locality and place for their God, viz. between the wings of the cherubim, which he had been ordered to place on the top of the Ark. cupola of the Invalides. Indeed, this gallery has proved too heavy for the arches and pillars within the church by which the cupola is supported, so that the pillars required to be strengthened by brick-work, which has taken away much of their former light appearance. The elegant front of this temple is built in imitation of the Pantheon at Rome, and consists of twenty-four columns, each about fifty-three feet high, supporting a pediment, along the bottom of which are inscribed in large characters these words: AUX GRANDS HOMMES, LA PATRIE RE CONNAISSANTE. In the centre of this pediment is sculptured a figure of France leaning on a shield, with the words, Republique FranPersons acquainted with the calender çoise engraven on it, and a figure of of the Pagan Romans, would suppose Liberty presenting her a label inscribed them to have been the most religious with, Droits de l'homme, and the words people that ever existed, there being Liberty, Equality, Fraternity, or Death, hardly a day in the year which has not are but half effaced. The whole height some religious ceremony prescribed for of this building is two hundred and it. Their greatest philosopher and eighty feet. A wide stone staircase leads statesman, Cicero, begins his instructions down to the vaults, where the remains of to his son with: In primis venerare some of the great men are deposited. Divos! Both the nations who have Here you are shown the sarcophagus made the most conspicuous figure on containing the body of Voltaire. His 455] Public Buildings of Paris.-The Temple. heart, said my guide, is at Ferney, his body is here, and his spirit-every where. On the sarcophagus of Rousseau a hand with a burning torch is carved, as protruding from a door half opened, indicating, as the guide said, that from his tomb he still enlightens the world. Here are also the tombs of the Duke of Montebello, and of several generals, and some statesmen. The whole is rather too prettily arranged for a receptacle of the departed great; and it might bring to your imagination the boxes and shelves of a haberdasher's or milliner's shop. Is Buonaparte to be excluded from a place among these worthies; or will the extinctus amabitur idem be applicable to him also? From this temple of the Revolution the mind by a natural transition is led to the contemplation of the Abbey of St. Denis, near Paris, the former depository of the first, if not the greatest, men in France. This building is considerably smaller than Westminster Abbey. It has two towers in front of unequal height. Here are no monuments, and a thorough repair of the inside was almost finished. In the vaults below, the remains of the Sovereigns of France used to be deposited, as is generally known, as well as the revolutionary fury which the Parisian mob exercised against these relics of royalty. The guide opened a door leading into a small yard or garden, and pointed to a raised ground, covered with turf, and planted with a few stunted firs, as the place where the ashes of the royal remains, after having been burnt, were deposited. Sic transit gloria mundi! exclaimed one of the spectators. [456 remptory order arrived from the Committee of Public Safety to put them immediately into the strong towers, which was done of course. The porter who attends in this place has made an ingenious representation of the old strong square building, with the four towers; this model opens, and exhibits the different apartments, with figures, carved upon a proportionate scale, of the different persons of the Royal Family, who inhabited them. In one of these rooms the King is represented informing bis family of his death-warrant having been issued; in another the little Dauphin is insulted by his keeper, Simon the shoemaker. At a table you see a number of the Commis de Police, of whom sixty were guillotined along with Robespierre. Pichegru is likewise represented lying strangled upon his bed; another room exhibits the Duchess of Angouleme after the fall of Robespierre, her mind almost destroyed by grief, having now a dog and a kid given her for her amusement, when she gradually recovered her senses. The Maison de Ville, or town hall, is another building of revolutionary memory: it is of an ancient ornamental style of architecture, having a large open space in front, which adjoins immediately to the Place de Greve near the quay. Here criminals are executed, and the whole place has obtained an infamous notoriety from the sanguinary scenes exhibited there in the early days of the Revolution. The lamp-irons, of horrid memory, may still be seen here, one of them at the corner of a coffee-house, in which I sat down, endeavouring to recal to my imagination the impressions my The Temple, near the Boulevard du mind used to receive from the accounts Temple, now exhibits an elegant modern of what was then acting on that very structure, erected on the site where for spot, when that place resounded with merly stood the strong building, origi- the yell of an infuriated mob, dragging nally the property of the Knights Tem- their victim to a mock trial and execuplars, and which during the Revolution tion. Some of the judges of those tribecame so memorable by having been bunals are still alive, and perhaps ready the prison of the Royal Family, and of to take their seats again, if merciful many other persons of consequence. Providence do not refuse them the opThe rooms still exist where the royal portunity. prisoners were lodged on the day when What golden promises did the authors they were first sent thither. They ima- of this Revolution hold out to this degined that these rooms were assigned luded nation, though they left them no for their occupation; but late at night, thing but maddening disappointment! when the king was going to bed, a pe- Nous substituerons la grandeur de 457 Theatres of Paris.-Talma, the French Garrick. [458 l'homme à la petitesse des grands! said influence of her sister, and her own Robespierre in one of his speeches in youth and beauty, soothed the manythe convention. headed monster of criticism; she was, The THEATRES of Paris, at a first view, however, decidedly unequal to the undisappoint the visitor who is used to the dertaking. She succeeded better in a brilliancy of the London theatres, or smart after-piece. Talma's representarather of the interior of the houses; parti- tion of the haughty ungovernable Achilcularly if his first visit should be to the les justly drew forth bursts of applause ; Theatre François, which may be consi- he shews rather too much of the stage dered as the principal national theatre. manner, and on a close view his features The fronts of the boxes in this house appeared to me to exhibit much of vulhave evidently not been cleaned, much garity, particularly when assuming the less new painted, for many years past. features of contempt, or similar passions. Their original colour seems to have been Mademoiselle George performed Clyan imitation of marble without any gild- temnestra; though a fair and lusty woing. The whole inside of the house is man, her features were capable of much illuminated by only one large circular expression. Agamemnon in this play frame with lamps, suspended in the cen- is certainly a character under continual tre from the ceiling. The oil in these distress of mind, which, combined with lamps being very pure, a tolerable de- the classic dignity of that monarch, will gree of light is thrown upon the upper not allow of much action; yet I think stories of the house; but the lower the performer sunk into a too drowsy parta and the pit lie in sombre darkness, monotony throughout the whole perin which the audience seem to hide formance. themselves, as if ashamed of the dirty The French Opera, rue Richelieu.appearance that surrounds them. The inside of this house has a much betold dusty stage curtain is in perfect har- ter appearance than that before mentionmony with the rest, whilst not a single ed. The curtain of this stage was no female figure breaks the gloomy monoto- doubt painted by the same Frenchman, nous hue of the pit, that place being al- who executed the present curtain of the lotted for male spectators only. A per- Opera House in London, representing a son acquainted with the taste of the real curtain, with an immense body, and French for decoration and brilliancy, depth of folds. Here the Opera of Jomust naturally be led to ask the ques- seph was performed: the splendid and tion, What can be the cause of the total appropriate scenery, decorations, and absence of these qualities in their princi- dresses, left nothing to wish for. When, pal national theatre? I could not but in one of the scenes of this opera, Simsuppose that it was from design, either eon, at the head of his brethren, discloto give more effect to the stage, or for ses to Jacob, that Joseph had not been the audience to appear to be assembled devoured by wild beasts, but had been there for the purpose of having their at- sold by them, the agonized father, stretchtention attracted only by what is going ing out his arms, exclaims, I curse you! on upon the stage, perhaps from both a crash from the orchestra accompanies these causes together. A Frenchman in it like thunder, and all the sons of Jacob an adjoining box confirmed my supposi- fall prostrate before him. I seldom tion, which acquired an additional proba- have met with any thing equal to this bility when at Catalani's concert in the for effect.* The Salle de Favart, I saw that room more At another theatre, I believe des brilliantly illuminated than any I had Varietés, the Prodigal Son was perforinseen before. The performance I saw at ed; the same attention was there paid the Theatre François was Iphigenia in to the scenery and dresses. The TheaAulis, by Racine. The character of tre d'Odeon, near the Luxembourg, is Iphigenia was attempted, as a first essay, elegant as well in its external architecby a sister of the celebrated Mademoiselle George. This actress appeared to have many friends in the house; the 21 Eng. Mag. Vol. I. ed, beyond any thing of that kind exhibited any where else. *The dauring here is, as might be expect 459] Public Buildings of Paris.-The Palais Royal. [460 tecture as in its internal arrangements, nated, the brilliant articles exposed in but the company now performing there them increasing the light the same is but mediocre. Besides these theatres, takes place with the coffee-houses, and there are those of the Vaudevilles, restaurateurs, which have windows down where I was disgusted with seeing a almost to the ground, with large panes man performing in woman's clothes; of of glass, through which you may behold the Porte St. Martin, and a number of almost the whole company, male and inferior places for dramatic exhibitions, female, seated at different tables, with a where nothing is paid at the entrance, profusion of dishes, fruit, and the longand the expenses are raised upon the necked bottles of French wine; whilst articles consumed. At these places, I in the elegant bar you see the mistress, understand, it is not allowed, that more and sometimes her daughters, dressed in than two performers appear upon the the fashion of the day, seated among stage at the same time. The quietness, heaps of fruit, and vases with flowers, propriety, and decorum that reigned in and the whole of this assemblage, with all these public places at Paris, I must all its lights, reflected by immense miracknowledge, surprised me, as quite con- rors or pier glasses, placed in profusion, trary to my expectation: nor could the along the walls, with numerous gilt least fault be found with the female decorations, clocks, busts, and figures dresses among the performers any more from the antique. The first floor of than among the spectators. this range of building is likewise occupi The PALAIS ROYAL.-This celebrat- ed by coffee-houses and restaurateurs, ed spot, the rendezvous of the loungers, which increase the illumination after the idle and profligate of Paris, is situat- sun-set. Next to the French gilt clocks, ed rather centrically in the rue St. Ho- vases, &c. the British fine cutlery connoré, where is the entrance to this palace tributes most to the brilliancy of these of the Duke of Orleans. Opposite to shops. The gaming tables are on the the entrance, on the other side of the second floor, and open even to those public street, is a large place for hackney who choose to be only spectators; at coaches, and a large stone front inclos- some of them nothing but gold was ing a reservoir of water. The entrance pushed about. Some of the cellars in to the palace is of a fine Italian style of this place are turned into places for enarchitecture, and leads into a court of a tertainment, called Caveaux, where musquare form, having buildings on each sic is heard in the evening. The nume side, the left of which are occupied by rous book-stalls and reading-rooms furnational guards, doing duty there, toge- nish all the papers and pamphlets of the ther with the English and Prusssians. day; hither you may retire from the Here also is the Exchange for the mer- crowd constantly moving round, which chants, at present; that most splendid is at present considerably increased by building begun by Napoleon, to serve the numerous foreign military in their for the same purpose, being left unfinish- fantastic dresses and mustachios, draged. This entrance forms one of the ging their clattering sabres over the pavetwo narrow sides of the parallelogram, ment, as it were in defiance of the vanor oblong square of the whole palace, quished Gauls. inclosing an open area intersected by I have seen the King and some of the walks among a few trees. The sides of Royal Family at the Tuilleries walking the building form piazzas of about nine- to chapel through the Salle des Marety arches on each side, and so many chaux. Vive le Roi! Vive le Duc de windows over them in the first story. Berry! was here and there cried among Under these piazzas, smoothly paved, the spectators, but it seemed heartless, there are innumerable shops, coffee- and reminded me of the raven, kept by houses, restaurateurs, &c. forming a the servant of the Prince of Condé at lounge of about fifteen minutes round Wanstead, whom they had taught to the whole, among a constant crowd of cry Vive le Roi! The portraits of the perambulators, male and female. To- marshals who have led the French arwards sun-set all these shops are illumi- mies to so many victories, are perhaps |