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Letter LXVI…

Part 6 of 7 · Francis William Blagdon · Public domain text

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Source: Project Gutenberg e-text #8998, public domain in the United States · text not rewritten or summarized · How RedLectern is built

 

Contents (93)
  1. Opening about 1 min
  2. Introduction about 1 min
  3. V. Plan on which these letters are written about 14 min
  4. LXVII. Dépôt de la Marine--An establishment much wanted in England about 10 min
  5. Introduction about 15 min
  6. Letter I about 4 min
  7. Letter II about 6 min
  8. Letter III about 7 min
  9. Letter IV about 6 min
  10. Letter V about 1 min
  11. Letter VI about 11 min
  12. Letter VII about 11 min
  13. Letter VIII about 13 min
  14. Letter IX about 7 min
  15. Letter X about 16 min
  16. Letter XI about 12 min
  17. Letter XII about 6 min
  18. Letter XIII about 14 min
  19. Letter XIV about 9 min
  20. Letter XV about 7 min
  21. Letter XVI about 13 min
  22. Letter XVII about 15 min
  23. Letter XVIII about 14 min
  24. Letter XIX about 10 min
  25. Letter XX about 6 min
  26. Letter XXI about 17 min
  27. Letter XXII about 11 min
  28. Letter XXIII about 10 min
  29. Letter XXIV about 13 min
  30. Letter XXV about 11 min
  31. Letter XXVI about 15 min
  32. Letter XXVII about 10 min
  33. Letter XXVIII about 9 min
  34. Letter XXIX about 14 min
  35. Letter XXX about 13 min
  36. Letter XXXI about 12 min
  37. Letter XXXII about 12 min
  38. Letter XXXIII about 8 min
  39. Letter XXXIV about 16 min
  40. Letter XXXV about 18 min
  41. Letter XXXVI about 7 min
  42. Letter XXXVII about 21 min
  43. Letter XXXVIII about 10 min
  44. Letter XXXIX about 22 min
  45. Letter XL about 10 min
  46. Letter XLI about 16 min
  47. Letter XLII about 13 min
  48. Letter XLIII about 6 min
  49. Letter XLIV about 15 min
  50. Letter XLV about 8 min
  51. Letter XLVI about 8 min
  52. Letter XLVII about 14 min
  53. Letter XLVIII about 7 min
  54. Letter XLIX about 9 min
  55. Letter L about 9 min
  56. Letter LI about 14 min
  57. Letter LII about 6 min
  58. Letter LIII about 13 min
  59. Letter LIV about 23 min
  60. Letter LV about 20 min
  61. Letter LVI about 4 min
  62. Letter LVII about 9 min
  63. Letter LVIII about 12 min
  64. Letter LIX about 8 min
  65. Letter LX about 8 min
  66. Letter LXI about 18 min
  67. Letter LXII about 7 min
  68. Letter LXIII about 12 min
  69. Letter LXIV about 4 min
  70. Letter LXV about 3 min
  71. Letter LXVI about 14 min
  72. Letter LXVII about 2 min
  73. Letter LXVIII about 9 min
  74. Letter LXIX about 11 min
  75. Letter LXX about 3 min
  76. Letter LXXI about 26 min
  77. Letter LXXII about 13 min
  78. Letter LXXIII about 9 min
  79. Letter LXXIV about 7 min
  80. Letter LXXV about 5 min
  81. Letter LXXVI about 6 min
  82. Letter LXXVII about 8 min
  83. Letter LXXVIII about 12 min
  84. Letter LXXIX about 3 min
  85. Letter LXXX about 11 min
  86. Letter LXXXI about 7 min
  87. Letter LXXXII about 6 min
  88. Letter LXXXIII about 4 min
  89. Letter LXXXIV about 9 min
  90. Letter LXXXV about 10 min
  91. Letter LXXXVI about 12 min
  92. Letter LXXXVII about 9 min
  93. Letter LXXXVIII about 12 min

Continue:

Letter LXVI

Paris, February 11, 1802.

In order to confer handsome pensions on the men of science who had benefited mankind by their labours, and who, under the old régime, were poorly rewarded, in 1795, LAKANAL solicited and obtained the establishment of the

BUREAU DES LONGITUDES.

As members of this Board of Longitude, the first institution of the kind in France, LAGRANGE, LAPLACE, LALANDE, CASSINI,[1] MÉCHAIN, BORDA,[1] BOUGAINVILLE, FLEURIEU, MESSIER, BUACHE, and CARROCHÉ, the optician, had each 8,000 francs (circa £. 330 sterling) a year, and the assistant astronomers, 4,000. Indeed, the professors of that science were in want of pecuniary assistance for the purpose of forming pupils.

The Bureau des Longitudes is on a more extensive scale, and possesses greater authority than the Board of Longitude in England. It is charged with the administration of all the Observatories belonging to the Republic, as well as with the correspondence with the astronomers of foreign countries. The government refers to it the examination of memoirs relative to navigation. Such of its members as more specially cultivate practical astronomy in the National Observatories of the capital, are charged to make all Observations which may contribute to the progress of that science, and procure new means for rectifying the tables of the Sun, as well as those which make known the position of the stars, and particularly the tables of the Moon, the improvement of which so essentially concerns the safety of navigation.

The great importance of the last-mentioned tables induced this Board, about three years ago, to propose a premium of 6,000 francs (circa £. 250 sterling) for tables of the Moon. LALANDE recommended to BONAPARTE to double it. The First Consul took his advice: and the French now have tables that greatly surpass those which are used in England.[2] A copy of these have, I understand, been sent to Mr. MASKELYNE, our Astronomer-Royal at Greenwich.

The Board of Longitude of France, like that of England, calculates for every year Tables or Ephemerides, known in Europe under the title of Connaissance des Tems. The French having at length procured able calculators, are now able to dispense with the English Ephemeris. Their observations follow each other in such a manner as to render it unnecessary for them to recur to those of Greenwich, of which they have hitherto made continual use. Since the year 1795, the Connaissance des Tems has been compiled by JÉROME LALANDE. At the end of the tables and their explanation, it contains a collection of observations, memoirs, and important calculations. The French astronomers are not a little surprised that we publish no similar work in London; while Paris, Berlin, Vienna, Gotha, and Milan set us the example. It is in the last volumes of the Connaissance des Tems that JÉROME LALANDE gives the history of astronomy, where you will find every thing that has been done in this science.

The Bureau des Longitudes also publishes for every year, in advance, the Annuaire de la République, which serves as a rule for all the almanacks compiled in France. The meetings of the Board are held at the

NATIONAL OBSERVATORY.

This edifice, which is situated at the farther end of the Faubourg St. Jacques, was constructed in 1664, by order of COLBERT, and under the direction of PERRAULT, the medical architect, who planned the celebrated façade of the Louvre.

The form of the building is rectangular. Neither wood nor iron have been employed in its construction. It is arched throughout, and its four sides stand exactly in the direction of the four cardinal points of the horizon. Although its elevation is eighty-five feet, it comprises but two stories, terminated by a flat roof, whence you command a fine view of Paris. You ascend thither by a winding staircase which has a hollow newel. This staircase, consisting of three hundred and sixty steps, extends downward to a similar depth of eighty-five feet, and forms a sort of well, at the bottom of which you can perceive the light. From this well have been observed the different degrees of acceleration in the descent of bodies.

The subterraneous vaults have served for meteorological experiments. In one of them water is seen to petrify on filtering through the rock above. They lead to near fifty streets or passages, formed by quarries excavated in procuring the stones with which great part of the city of Paris is constructed.

Previously to the year 1777, churches, palaces, whole streets of houses, and the public highway of several quarters of Paris and its environs, were on the point of being swallowed up in gulfs no less vast in depth than in extent. Since then, considerable works have been undertaken to consolidate these subterraneous caverns, and fill up the void, equally dangerous, occasioned by the working of the plaster-quarries.

An accident of a very alarming nature, which happened in the Rue d'Enfer in the year 1774; and another, at Montmenil, in 1778, shewed the necessity of expediting these operations, which were followed up with great activity from 1777 to 1789, when their progress was relaxed from the circumstances of the times. These quarries are far more extensive than is commonly imagined. In the department of the Seine alone, they extend under all the south part of Paris, and the roads, plains, and communes, to the distance of several leagues round the circumference of this city. Their roof, with the edifices standing on the soil that covers it, is either supported by walls recently built under the foundation of those edifices, or by pillars constructed at different periods in several places. The government is at the expense of providing for the safety of the streets, highways, and public buildings, but that of propping under-ground all private habitations must be defrayed by the proprietor. These ancient quarries had been much neglected, and the means of visiting them was equally dangerous and inconvenient. At present, every precaution is taken to insure the safety of the persons employed in them, as well as the stability of their roof; and for the better superintendance of all the subterraneous constructions of Paris, galleries of communication have been formed of sufficient width to admit the free passage of materials necessary for keeping them in repair.

Let us now find our way out of these labyrinths, and reascending to the surface of the soil, pursue our examination of the Observatory.

In a large room on the first floor is traced the meridian line, which divides this building into two parts. Thence, being extended to the south and north, it crosses France from Colieure to Dunkirk.

On the pavement of one of the rooms is engraved a universal circular map, by CHAZELLES and SÉDILLAN. Another room is called the Salle aux secrets, because on applying the mouth to the groove of a pilaster, and whispering, a person placed at the opposite pilaster hears what is said, while those in the middle of the room, hear nothing. This phenomenon, the cause of which has been so often explained, must be common to all buildings constructed in this manner.

In speaking of the Champ de Mars, I mentioned that LALANDE obtained the construction of an Observatory at the ci-devant École Militaire. Since 1789, he and his nephew have discovered fifty thousand stars; an immense labour, the greater part of them being telescopic and invisible to the naked eye. Of this number, he has already classed thirty thousand.

The CASSINIS had neglected the Observatory in Paris; but when LALANDE was director of this establishment, he obtained from BONAPARTE good instruments of every description and of the largest dimensions. These have been executed by the first artists, who, with the greatest intelligence, have put in practice all the means of improvement which we owe to the fortunate discoveries of the eighteenth century. Of course, it is now as well provided as that of Greenwich. MÉCHAIN, the present director, and BOUVARD, his associate, are extremely assiduous in their astronomical labours.

CARROCHÉ has made for this Observatory a twenty-two feet telescope, which rivals those of HERSCHEL of the same length; and the use of reflecting circles, imagined by MAYER, and brought into use by BORDA, which LENOIR executes in a superior manner, and which we have not yet chosen to adopt in England, has introduced into the observations of the French an accuracy hitherto unknown. The meridian from Dunkirk to Barcelona, measured between the years 1792 and 1798, by DELAMERE and MÉCHAIN, is of an astonishing exactness. It has brought to light the irregularity of the degrees, which was not suspected. The rules, composed of platina and copper, which LAVOISIER and BORDA imagined for measuring bases, without having occasion to calculate the effect of dilatation, are a singular invention, and greatly surpass what RAMSDEN made for the bases measured in England.

LAPLACE has discovered in the Moon inequalities with which we were not acquainted. The work he has published, under the title of Mécanique Céleste, contains the most astonishing discoveries of physical theory, the great inequality of Jupiter and Saturn, the acceleration of the Moon, the equation of the third Satellite of Jupiter, and the flux and reflux of the sea.

BURCKHARDT, one of the associated members of the Bureau des Longitudes, is a first-rate astronomer and a man of superior talent. He is at present employed on the difficult task of calculating the very considerable derangements of the planet discovered by OLBERS at Bremen, on the 28th of March 1801.

VIDAL has made, at Mirepoix, more observations of Mercury than all the astronomers for two thousand years past, and these are the most difficult and uncommon.

DELAMBRE has computed tables of the Sun, of Jupiter, of Saturn, and of Herschel; LALANDE, the nephew, has composed tables of Mars; and his uncle, of Mercury, which never deviate more than a few seconds from the observations.

Even during the reign of terror, astronomy was not neglected. Through the interest of CARNOT, CALON, LAKANAL, and FOURCROY, the Bureau de Consultation des Arts gave annually the sum of 300,000 francs (circa £12,000 sterling) in gratifications to artists.

Afterwards, in 1796, the National Institute, richly endowed, proposed considerable premiums. LALANDE, the uncle, founded one for astronomy; BONAPARTE, another for physics; and the First Consul has promised 60,000 francs (circa £2,800 sterling) to any one who shall make a discovery of importance.

France can now boast of two young geometricians, BIOT and PUISSON, who, for analytical genius, surpass all that exist in Europe. It is rather extraordinary that, with the exception of Mr. CAVENDISH and Dr. WARING, England has produced no great geometricians since the death of MACLAURIN, STERLING, and SIMPSON.

The French tables of Logarithms, printed stereotypically, are cleared of all the errors which afflicted calculators of every country. Those of other nations will owe this obligation to Frenchmen.

HERSCHEL no longer looks for comets; but the French astronomers, MESSIER, MÉCHAIN, BOUVARD, and PONS find some. Last year, JÉROME LALANDE deposited 600 francs in the hands of his notary, as a premium to stimulate the efforts of young observers.

* * * * *

February 11, in continuation.

In the spring of 1803, MÉCHAIN will leave Paris for the purpose of extending his meridian to the Balearic Islands. He will measure the length of the pendulum in several places, in order to ascertain the inequality of the earth which the measure of the degrees had indicated. This circumstance reminds me of my neglect in not having yet satisfied your desire to have a short account of the means employed for fixing the standard of the

NEW FRENCH WEIGHTS AND MEASURES.

Among the great ideas realized during the first period of the revolution, must be reckoned that of a uniform system of weights and measures. From all parts of France remonstrances were sent against the great variety of those in use. Several kings had endeavoured to remedy this evil, which was so hurtful to lawful trade, and favourable only to fraud and double-dealing. Yet what even they had not been able to effect, was undertaken by the Constituent Assembly. It declared that there ought to be but one standard of weights and measures, in a country subject to the same laws. The Academy of Sciences was charged to seek and present the best mode of carrying this decree into execution. That society proposed the adoption of the decimal division, by taking for a fundamental unit the ten-millionth part of the quarter of the terrestrial meridian. The motives which determined this choice were the extreme simplicity of decimal calculation, and the advantage of having a measure taken from nature. The latter condition would, in truth, have been accomplished, had there been taken, as a fundamental unit, the length of the pendulum marking seconds for a given latitude; but the measure of an arc of the meridian, executed with the precision to be obtained by the methods and instruments of the present day, was extremely interesting in regard to the theory of the figure of the earth. This influenced the decision of the Academy, and if the motives which it presented to the Constituent Assembly were not exactly the real ones, it is because the sciences have also their policy: it sometimes happens that to serve mankind, one must resolve to deceive them.

All the measures of the metrical system, adopted by the Republic, are deduced from a base taken from nature, the fourth part of the terrestrial meridian; and the divisions of those measures are all subjected to the decimal order employed in arithmetic.

In order to establish this base, the grand and important work of taking a new measure of the terrestrial meridian, from Dunkirk to Barcelona, was begun in 1792. At the expiration of seven years, it was terminated; and the Institute presented the result to the Legislative Body with the original table of the new measures.

MÉCHAIN and DELAMBRE measured the angles of ninety triangles with the new reflecting circles; imagined by MAYER, and which BORDA had caused to be constructed. With these instruments, they made four observations of latitude at Dunkirk, Paris, Évaux, Carcassonne, and Barcelona; two bases measured near Melun and Perpignan, with rules of platina and copper, forming metallic thermometers, were connected with the triangles of the meridian line: the total interval, which was 9°.6738, was found to be 551584.72 toises. As the degrees progressively diminished towards the south, but much more towards the middle than towards the extremities, the middle of the whole arc was taken; and, on comparing it with the degrees measured at Peru, between the years 1737 and 1741, the ellipticity of the earth was concluded to be 1/334 the mean degree, 57008 toises; and the MÈTRE, which is the ten-millionth part of the quarter of the meridian, 443.296 lines of the old French toise which had been used at Peru.

The Commissioners, sent from foreign countries, verified all the calculations, and sanctioned the results. The experiments of the pendulum made at the observatory, with extreme care, by BORDA, MÉCHAIN, and CASSINI, with a new apparatus, constructed by LENOIR, shewed the pendulum to be 0.99385 of the mètre, on reducing it to the freezing point, and in vacuo: this would be sufficient for finding again the mètre, though all the standards were changed or lost.

Exact experiments, made by LEFÈVRE-GINEAU, with instruments constructed by FORTIN, shewed the weight of the cubic decimetre of distilled water, at the point of the greatest condensation to be 18827.15 grains of the pile of 50 marcs, which is preserved here in the Hôtel de la Monnaie, and is called Le poids de Charlemagne; the toise being supposed at 13 degrees of the thermometer of 80 degrees. The scales of FORTIN might give a millionth part and more; and LEFÈVRE-GINEAU employed in all these experiments and calculations the most scrupulous degree of exactness.

Thus the MÈTRE or principal unit of the French linear measures has furnished those of the weights; and all this grand system, taken from nature, is connected with the base the most invariable, the size of the earth itself.

The unit of the measures of capacity is a cube whose side is the tenth part of the mètre, to which has been given the name of LITRE; the unit of measures of solidity, relative to wood, a cube whose side is the mètre, which is called STÈRE. In short, the thousandth part of a litre of distilled water, weighed in vacuo and at the temperature of melting ice, has been chosen for the unit of weights, which is called GRAMME.

The following TABLE presents the nomenclature of these different Measures, their divisions, and multiples, together with the new Weights, as decreed by the Legislative Body, and to it is annexed their correspondence both with the old French Measures and Weights, and those of England.

* * * * *

LINEAR MEASURES.

FRENCH ENGLISH T F I L M F Y Ft I[A]

Myriamètre (or League) 10,000 Mètres 5,130 4 5 3.360 6 1 156 0 6

Kilomètre (or Mile) 1,000 Mètres 513 0 5 3.936 - 4 213 1 10.2

Hectomètre 100 Mètres 51 1 10 1.583 - - 109 1 1

Décamètre (or Perch) 10 Mètres 5 0 9 4.959 - - 10 2 9.7

MÈTRE - 3 0 11.296 - - --- 3 3.371

Décimètre (or Palm) 10th of a Mètre - - 3 8.330 - - --- - 3.937

Centimètre (or Digit) 100th of a Mètre - - -- 4.433 - - --- - 0.393

Millimètre (or Trait) 1,000th of a Mètre - - -- 0.443 - - --- - 0.039

[Footnote A: French measurements in Toises (T), Feet (F), Inches (I), and Lines (L). English mesurements in Miles (M), Furlongs (F), Yards (Y), Feet (Ft), and Inches (I).]

AGRARIAN MEASURES.

A R P[B]

Myriare, square Kilomètre 263244.93 ST 247 0 20

Milare 26324.49 ST 24 2 34

Hectare, (or Arpent) square Hectomètre 2632.45 ST 2 1 35.4

Décare 263.24 ST --- - 39.54

ARE, (or square Perch) square Decamètre 26.32 ST --- - 3.954

Déciare 2.63 ST --- - 0.395

Centiare, (or 100th part of a square Perch) square Mètre 0.26 ST --- - 0.039

[Footnote B: French measurements in Square Toises (ST). English measurements in Acres (A), Roods (R) and Perches (P).]

MEASURES OF CAPACITY. Cubic Inches

Kilolitre, (or Hogshead) cubic Mètre 29.1739 cubic feet 61028

Hectolitre, (or Setier) 2.9174 cubic feet 6102.8

Decalitre, (or Bushel) 0.2917 cubic feet 610.28

LITRE; (or Pinte) cubic Décimètre 50.4124 cubic inches 61.028

Décilitre, (or Glass) 5.0412 cubic inches 6.1028

Centilitre 0.5041 cubic inches 0.6102

Millitre, cubic Centimèter 0.0504 cubic inches 0.061

N. B. A Litre is nearly equal to 2-7/8 Pints, English Wine Measure.

MEASURES FOR WOOD.

Cubic Feet.

Stère, cubical Mètre 29.1739 cubic feet 35.3171

Décistère, (or Solive) 2.9174 cubic feet 3.5317

Centistère 0.2917 cubic feet 0.3531

Millistère, cubic Décimètre 0.0291 cubic feet 0.0353

WEIGHTS. TROY

lbs. oz. d. gr. lbs. oz. dw. gr.[C]

Myriagramme 20 6 6 63.5 26 9 15 0.23

Kilogramme, (or Pound) weight of the cubic Décimètre of water at 4° which is the maximum of density 2 0 5 35.15 2 8 3 12.02

Hectogramme, (or Ounce) -- 3 2 10.72 -- 3 4 8.40

Décagramme, (or Drachm) -- - 2 44.27 -- - 6 10.44

GRAMME, (or Denier) weight of the cubic Centimètreat the freezing point -- - - 18.827 -- - -- 15.444

Déciegramme, (or Grain) -- - - 1.883 -- - -- 1.544

Centigramme -- - - 0.188 -- - -- 0.154

Milligramme, weight of the cubic Millemètre of water -- - - 0.019 -- - -- 0.015

[Footnote C: The labels on first set of columns are lbs., oz., drms., and grains; and on the second, lbs. oz. dwts. and grains.]

[Footnote 1: Since dead. The former is replaced by DELAMBRE. CHABERT and PRONY are elected supernumerary members, and LEFRANÇAIS LALANDE, BOUVARD, and BURCKHARDT, appointed assistant astronomers.]

[Footnote 2: The Prize has been awarded to M. BURG, an astronomer at Vienna.]

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Letter LXVII

Paris, February 14, 1802.

After speaking of the Board of Longitude and the National Observatory, I must not omit to say a few words of an establishment much wanted in England. I mean the

DÉPÔT DE LA MARINE.

This general repository of maps, charts, plans, journals, and archives of the Navy and the Colonies, is under the direction of a flag-officer. It is situated in the Rue de la Place Vendôme; but the archives are still kept in an office at Versailles. To this Dépôt are attached the Hydrographer and Astronomer of the Navy, both members of the National Institute and of the Board of Longitude, and also a number of engineers and draughtsmen proportioned to the works which the government orders to be executed.

The title of this Dépôt sufficiently indicates what it contains. To it has been lately added a library, composed of all the works relative to navigation, hydrography, naval architecture, and to the navy in general, as well as of all the voyages published in the different dead or living languages. The collection of maps, charts, plans, &c. belonging to it, is composed of originals in manuscript, ancient and modern, of French or foreign sea-charts, published at different times, and of maps of the possessions beyond the seas belonging to the maritime states of Europe and to the United-States of America.

All the commanders of vessels belonging to the State are bound, on their return to port, to address to the Minister of the Naval Department, in order to be deposited in the archives, the journals of their voyage, and the astronomical or other observations which they have been enabled to make, and the charts and plans which they have had an opportunity of constructing.

One of the apartments of the Dépôt contains models of ships of war and other vessels, the series of which shews the progress of naval architecture for two centuries past, and the models of the different machines employed in the ports for the various operations relative to building, equipping, repairing, and keeping in order ships and vessels of war.

The Dépôt de la Marine publishes new sea-charts in proportion as new observations or discoveries indicate the necessity of suppressing or rectifying the old ones.

When the service requires it, the engineers belonging to the Dépôt are detached to verify parts of the coasts of the French territory in Europe, or in any other part of the world, where experience has proved that time has introduced changes with which it is important to be acquainted, or to rectify the charts of other parts that had not yet been surveyed with the degree of exactness of which the methods now known and practised have rendered such works susceptible.

In the French navy, commanders of ships and vessels are supplied with useful charts and atlases of every description, at the expense of the nation. These are delivered into their care previously to the ship leaving port. When a captain is superseded in his command, he transfers them to his successor; and when the ship is put out of commission, they are returned to the proper office. Why does not the British government follow an example so justly deserving of imitation?

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Letter LXVIII

Paris, February 15, 1802.

After the beautiful theatre of the old Comédie Française, under its new title of l'Odéon, became a prey to flames, as I have before mentioned, the comedians belonging it were dispersed on all sides. At length, PICARD assembled a part of them in a house, built at the beginning of the revolution, which, from the name of the street where it is situated, is called the

THÉÂTRE LOUVOIS.

No colonnade, no exterior decoration announces it as a place of public amusement, and any one might pass it at noon-day without suspecting the circumstance, but for the prices of admission being painted in large characters over the apertures in the wall, where the public deposit their money.

This house, which is of a circular form, is divided, into four tiers of boxes. The ornaments in front of them, not being in glaring colours, give, by their pale tint, a striking brilliancy to the dress of the women.

PICARD, the manager of this theatre, is the MOLIÈRE of his company; that is, he is at once author and actor, and, in both lines, indefatigable. Undoubtedly, the most striking, and, some say, the only resemblance he bears to the mirror of French comedy, is to be compelled to bring on the stage pieces in so unfinished a state as to be little more than sketches, or, in other words, he is forced to write in order to subsist his company. Thus then, the stock-pieces of this theatre are all of them of his own composition. The greater part are imbroglios bordering on farce. The vis comica to be found in them is not easily understood by foreigners, since it chiefly consists in allusions to local circumstances and sayings of the day. However, they sometimes produce laughter in a surprising degree, but more frequently make those laugh who never blush to laugh at any thing.

The most lively of his pieces are Le Collatéral and la Petite Ville. In the course of last month, he produced one under the name of La Grande Ville, ou les Provinciaux à Paris, which occasioned a violent uproar. The characters of this pseudo-comedy are swindlers or fools; and the spectators insisted that the portraits were either too exact a copy of the originals, or not at all like them. By means of much insolence, by means of the guard which was incautiously introduced into the pit, and which put to flight the majority of the audience, and, lastly, by means of several alterations, PICARD contrived to get his piece endured. But this triumph may probably be the signal of his ruin,[1] as the favour of the Parisian public, once lost, is never to be regained.

This histrionic author and manager has written some pieces of a serious cast. The principal are, Médiocre et Rampant, and L'Entrée dans le Monde. As in La Grande Ville, the characters in these are also cheats or fools. Consequently, it was not difficult to conduct the plot, it would have been much more so to render it interesting. These two comedies are written in verse which might almost pass for prose.

The Théâtre Louvois is open to all young authors who have the ambition to write for the stage, before they have well stored their mind with the requisites. Novelties here succeed each other with astonishing rapidity. Hence, whatever success PICARD may have met with as an author, he has not been without competitors for his laurels. Out of no less than one hundred and sixty-seven pieces presented for rehearsal and read at this house, one hundred and sixty-five are said to have been refused. Of the two accepted, the one, though written forty years ago, was brought out as a new piece, and damned. However, the ill success of a piece represented here is not remarked; the fall not being great.

The friends of this theatre call it La petite Maison de Thalie. They take the part for the whole. It is, in fact, no more than her anti-chamber. As for the drawing-room of the goddess, it is no longer to be found any where in Paris.

The performers who compose PICARD'S company do no injustice to his pieces. It is affirmed that this company has what is called, on the French stage, de l'ensemble. With few exceptions, there is an ensemble, as it is very indifferent. For such an interpretation to be correct, it would be necessary for all the comedians of the Théâtre Louvois to have great talents, and none can be quoted.

PICARD, though not unfrequently applauded, is but a sorry actor. His cast of parts is that of valets and comic characters.

DEVIGNY performs the parts of noble fathers and foolish ones, here termed dindons, and grooms, called by the French jockeis. The remark, that he who plays every thing plays nothing, has not been unaptly applied to him. He has a defect of pronunciation which shocks even the ear of a foreigner.

DORSAN is naturally cold and stiff, and when he endeavours to repair the former of these defects, the weakness of his powers betrays him. If he speaks correctly, it is without finesse, and he never adds by expression to the thought of the author.

CLOZEL is a very handsome young man. He performs the characters of petits-maîtres and those of valets, which he confounds incessantly. The other actors of the Théâtre Louvois exempt me from naming them.

As for the actresses at this theatre, those only worthy to be mentioned are, Mademoiselle ADELINE, who has a rather pretty face, and plays not ill innocent parts; Mademoiselle BEFFROI, who is handsome, especially in male attire; and Mademoiselle MOLIÈRE, who is a very good soubrette. Mademoiselle LESCOT, tired of obtaining applause at the Théâtre du Vaudeville, wished to do the same on a larger theatre. Here, she has not even the consolation of saying

"Tel brille au second rang, qui s'éclipse au premier."

Madame MOLÉ, who is enormous in bulk, is a coarse caricature, whether she performs the parts of noble mothers, or what the French call caractères, that is, singular characters.

* * * * *

The ci-devant Comédie Italienne in Paris partly owed its prosperity to the Vaudeville, which might be considered as the parent of the Opéra-Comique. They were united, when the drame being introduced with songs, had like to have annihilated them both. The Vaudeville was sacrificed and banished. Several years elapsed before it reappeared. This offspring of French gaiety was thought to be lost for ever; but a few authors had prepared for it an asylum under the name of

THÉÂTRE DU VAUDEVILLE.

This little theatre is situated in the Rue de Chartres, which faces the principal entrance of the Palais du Tribunat. The interior is of a circular form, and divided into four tiers of boxes. In general, the decorations are not of the first class, but in the dresses the strictest propriety is observed.

The pieces performed at the Vaudeville are little comedies of the sentimental cast, a very extensive collection of portraits of French authors and of a few foreigners,[2] some pastoral pieces, parodies closely bordering on the last new piece represented at one of the principal theatres, charming harlequinades, together with a few pieces, in some of which parade and show are introduced; in others, scenes of low life and vulgarity; but the latter species is now almost abandoned.

These pieces are almost always composed in conjunction. It is by no means uncommon to see in the play-bills the names of five or six authors to a piece, in which the public applaud, perhaps, no more than three verses of a song. This association of names, however, has the advantage of saving many of them from ridicule.

The authors who chiefly devote themselves to the species of composition from which this theatre derives its name, are BARRÉ, RADET, and DESFONTAINES, who may be considered as its founders. BOURGEUIL, DESCHAMPS, DESPREZ, and the two SÉGURS, also contribute to the success of the Vaudeville, together with CHAZET, JOUY, LONGCHAMPS, and some others.

In the exercise of their talents, these writers suffer no striking adventure, no interesting anecdote to escape their satirical humour; but aim the shafts of ridicule at every subject likely to afford amusement. It may therefore be conceived that this house is much frequented. No people on earth can be more fickle than the French in general, and the Parisians in particular, in the choice of their diversions. Like children, they are soon tired of the same toy, and novelty is for them the greatest attraction. Hence, the Vaudeville, as has been seen, presents a great variety of pieces. In general, these are by no means remarkable for the just conception of their plan. The circumstance of the moment adroitly seized, and related in some well-turned stanzas, interspersed with dialogue, is sufficient to insure the success of a new piece, especially if adapted to the abilities of the respective performers.

Among them, HENRY would shine in the parts of lovers, were he less of a mannerist.

JULIEN may be quoted as an excellent imitator of the beaux of the day.

VERTPRÉ excels in personating a striking character.

CARPENTIER is no bad representative of a simpleton.

CHAPELLE displays much comic talent and warmth in the character of dotards, who talk themselves out of their reason.

LAPORTE, as a speaking Harlequin, has no equal in Paris.

So much for the men: I shall now speak of the women deserving of notice.

Madame HENRY, in the parts of lovers, is to be preferred for her fine eyes, engaging countenance, elegant shape, and clear voice.

Mesdemoiselles COLOMBE and LAPORTE, who follow her in the same line of acting, are both young, and capable of improvement.

Mademoiselle DESMARES is far from being pretty; neither is she much of an actress, but she treads the stage well, and sings not amiss.

Mademoiselle BLOSSEVILLE plays chambermaids and characters of parody with tolerable success.

Mademoiselle DELILLE, however, who performs caricatures and characters where frequent disguises are assumed, is a still greater favourite with the public. So much has been said of the glibness of a female tongue that many of the comparisons made on the subject are become proverbial; but nothing that I ever heard in that way can be compared to the volubility of utterance of Mademoiselle DELILLE, except the clearness of her articulation. A quick and attentive ear may catch every syllable as distinctly as if she spoke with the utmost gravity and slowness. The piece in which she exhibits this talent to great advantage, and under a rapid succession of disguises, is called Frosine ou la dernière venue.

Mademoiselle FLEURY makes an intelligent Columbine, not unworthy of LAPORTE.

Madame DUCHAUME represents not ill characters of duennas, country-women, &c.

Nothing can be said of the voice of the different performers of this theatre, on which acccount, perhaps, the orchestra is rather feeble; but still it might be better composed.

During my present visit to Paris, the Vaudeville, as it is commonly called, has, I think, insensibly declined. It has, however, been said that its destiny seems insured by the character of the French, and that being the first theatre to bend to the caprices of the day, it can never be out of fashion. Certainly, if satire be a good foundation, it ought to be the most substantial dramatic establishment in Paris. It rests on public malignity, which is its main support. Hence, one might conclude that it will last as long as there is evil doing or evil saying, an absurdity to catch at, an author to parody, a tale of scandal to relate, a rogue to abuse, and, in short, as long as the chapter of accidents shall endure. At this rate, the Vaudeville must stand to all eternity.

Whatever may be its defects, it unquestionably exemplifies the character of the nation, so faithfully pourtrayed by Beaumarchais, in the following lines of the vaudeville which concludes the Mariage de Figaro:

_"Si l'on opprime, il peste, il crie, Il s'agite en cent façons, Tout finit par des chansons." bis._

[Footnote 1: The Théâtre Louvois is rapidly on the decline.]

[Footnote 2: These are pieces the hero of which is a celebrated personage, such as RABELAIS, SCARRON, VOLTAIRE, ROUSSEAU, MALESHERBES, FREDERIC, king of Prussia, &c. &c.]

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Letter LXIX

Paris, February 17, 1802.

After having traversed the Pont Neuf, from the north side of the Seine, you cannot avoid noticing a handsome building to the right, situated on the Quai de Conti, facing the river. This is the Mint, or

HÔTEL DE LA MONNAIE.

The construction of this edifice was suggested by M. LAVERDY, Minister of State, and executed under the direction of M. ANTOINE, architect. I do not recollect any building of the kind in Europe that can be compared to it, since it far surpasses the Zecca at Venice.

The Abbé Terray (whose name will not be readily forgotten by the State-annuitants of his time, and for whom Voltaire, as one, said that he preserved his only tooth) when Comptroller-general of the Finances, laid the first stone of the Hôtél de la Monnaie, in April 1771.

An avant-corps, decorated with six Ionic pillars, and supported by two wings, from the division of the façade, which is three hundred and thirty-six feet in breadth by eighty-four in elevation. It is distributed into two stories above the ground-floor. Perpendicularly to the six pillars, rise six statues, representing Peace, Commerce, Prudence, Law, Strength, and Plenty.

In this avant-corps are three arches, the centre one of which is the principal entrance of the building. The vestibule is decorated with twenty-four fluted Doric pillars, and on the right hand, is a stair-case, leading to the apartments intended for the use of the officers belonging to the Mint, and in which they hold their meetings. This stair-case is lighted by a dome supported by sixteen fluted pillars of the Ionic order.

The whole building contains six courts: the principal court is one hundred and ten feet in depth by ninety-two in breadth. All round it are covered galleries, terminated by a circular wall alternately pierced with arches and gates.

The entrance of the hall for the money-presses is ornamented by four Doric pillars. This hall is sixty-two feet long by about forty broad, and contains nine money-presses. Above it is the hall of the sizers or persons who prepare the blank pieces for stamping. Next come the flatting-mills. Here, in a word, are all the apartments necessary for the different operations, and aptly arranged for the labours of coinage.

In the principal apartment of the avant-corps of the Hôtel de la Monnaie, towards the Quai de Conti, is the cabinet known in Paris by the name of the

MUSÉE DES MINES.

This cabinet or Museum was formed in 1778 by M. SAGE, who had then spent eighteen years in collecting minerals. When he began to employ himself on that science forty-five years ago, there existed in this country no collection which could facilitate the study of mineralogy. Docimacy vas scarcely known here by name. France was tributary to foreign countries thirty-seven millions of livres (circa £1,541,666 sterling) a year for the mineral and metallic substances which she drew from them, although she possesses them within herself. M. SAGE directed his studies and labours to the research and analysis of minerals. For twenty years he has delivered gratis public courses of chymistry and mineralogy. For the advancement of those sciences, he also availed himself of the favour he enjoyed with some persons at court and in the ministry, and this was certainly making a very meritorious use of it. To his care and interest is wholly due the collection of minerals placed in this building. The apartment containing it has, by some, been thought to deviate from the simple and severe style suitable to its destination, and to resemble too much the drawing-room of a fine lady. But those who have hazarded such a reproach do not consider that, at the period when this cabinet was formed, it was not useless, in order to bring the sciences into fashion, to surround them with the show of luxury and the elegance of accessory decoration. Who knows even whether that very circumstance, trifling as it may appear, has not somewhat contributed to spread a taste for the two sciences in question among the great, and in the fashionable world?

However this may be, the arrangement of this cabinet is excellent, and, in that respect, it is worthy to serve as a model. The productions of nature are so disposed that the glazed closets and cases containing them present, as it were, an open book in which the curious and attentive observer instructs himself with the greater facility and expedition, as he can without effort examine and study perfectly every individual specimen.

The inside of the Museum is about forty-five feet in length, thirty-eight in breadth, and forty in elevation. In the middle is an amphitheatre capable of holding two hundred persons. In the circumference are glazed cabinets or closets, in which are arranged methodically and analytically almost all the substances known in mineralogy. The octagonal gallery, above the elliptical amphitheatre, contains large specimens of different minerals. To each specimen is annexed an explanatory ticket. One of the large lateral galleries presents part of the productions of the mines of France, classed according to the order of the departments where they are found. The new transversal gallery contains models of furnaces and machines employed in the working of mines. The third gallery is also destined to contain the minerals of France, the essays and results of which are deposited in a private cabinet. The galleries are decorated with tables and vases of different species of marble, porphyry, and granite, also from the mines of France, collected by SAGE. The cupola which rises above, is elegantly ornamented from the designs of ANTOINE, the architect of the building.

This Museum is open to the public every day from nine o'clock in the morning till two, and, though it has been so many years an object of curiosity, such is the care exerted in superintending it, that it has all the freshness of novelty.

In a niche, on the first landing-place of the stair-case, is the bust of M. SAGE, a tribute of gratitude paid to him by his pupils. SAGE'S principal object being to naturalize in France mineralogy, docimacy, and metallurgy, he first obtained the establishment of a Special School of Mines, in which pupils were maintained by the State. Here, he directed their studies, and enjoyed the happiness of forming intelligent men, capable of improving the science of metallurgy, and promoting the search of ores, &c.

For a number of years past, as I have already observed, SAGE has delivered gratis, in this Museum; public courses of chymistry and mineralogy. He attracts hither many auditors by the ease of his elocution, and the address, the grace even which he displays in his experiments. If all those who have attended his lectures are to be reckoned his pupils, there will be found in the number names illustrious among the savans of France. Unfortunately, this veteran of science has created for himself a particular system in chymistry, and this system differs from that of LAVOISIER, FOURCROY, GUYTON-MORVEAU, BERTHOLLET, CHAPTAL, &c. The sciences have also their schisms; but the real savans are not persecutors. Although SAGE was not of their opinion on many essential points, his adversaries always respected him as the man who had first drawn the attention of the government towards the art of mines, instigated the establishment of the first school which had existed for this important object, and been the author of several good analyses. On coming out of prison, into which he had been thrown during the reign of terror, he found this cabinet of mineralogy untouched. It would then have been easy, from motives of public utility, to unite it to the new School of Mines. But the heads of this new school had, for the most part, issued from the old one, and SAGE was dear to them from every consideration. It was from a consequence of this sentiment that SAGE, who had been a member of the Academy of Sciences, not having been comprised in the list of the members of the National Institute at the time of its formation, has since been admitted into that learned body, not as a chymist indeed, but as a professor of mineralogy, a science which owes to him much of its improvement.

The new School of Mines is now abolished, and practical ones are established in the mountains, as I have before mentioned. While I am speaking of mineralogy, I shall take you to view the

CABINET DU CONSEIL DES MINES.

This cabinet of mineralogy, formed at the Hôtel des Mines, Rue de l'Université, No. 293, is principally intended to present a complete collection of all the riches of the soil of the French Republic, arranged in local order. A succession of glazed closets, contiguous and similar to each other, that is about six feet and a half in height by sixteen inches in depth, affords every facility of observing them with ease and convenience. On these cases the names of the departments are inscribed in alphabetical order, and the vacancies which still exist in this geographical collection, are daily filled up by specimens sent by the engineers of mines, who, being spread over the different districts they are charged to visit, employ themselves in recognizing carefully the mineral substances peculiar to each country, in order to submit their views to the government respecting the means of rendering them useful to commerce and to the arts.

The departmental collection, being thus arranged on the sides of the gallery, leaves vacant the middle of the apartments, which is furnished with tables covered with large glazed cases, intended for receiving systematic collections, and the most remarkable mineral substances from foreign countries, distributed in geographical order.

An apartment is specially appropriated to the systematic order adopted by HAÜY in his new treatise on mineralogy; another is reserved for the method of WERNER.

In both these oryctognostic collections, minerals of all countries are indiscriminately admitted. They are arranged by classes, orders, genera, species, and varieties, with the denominations adopted by the author of the method, and consequently designated by specific names in French for HAÜY'S method, and in German for that of WERNER. The proximity of the two apartments where they are exhibited, affords every advantage for comparing both methods, and acquiring an exact knowledge of mineralogical synonymy. Each of the two methods contains also a geological collection of rocks and various aggregates, classed and named after the principles which their respective authors have thought fit to adopt.

The other apartments are likewise furnished with tables covered with glazed cases, where are exhibited, in a manner very advantageous for study, the most remarkable minerals of every description from foreign countries, among which are:

1. A numerous series of minerals from Russia, such as red chromate of lead, white carbonate of lead, green phosphate of lead; native copper, green and blue carbonate of copper; gold ore from Berezof; iron ore, granitical rocks, fossil shells, in good preservation, from the banks of the Moscorika, and others in the siliceous state, jaspers, crystals of quartz, beril, &c.

2. A collection from the iron and copper mines of Sweden, as well as various crystals and rocks from the same country.

3. A very complete and diversified collection of minerals from the country of Saltzburg.

4. Another of substances procured in England, such as fluates and carbonates of lime from Derbyshire; pyrites, copper and lead ore, zinc, and tin from Cornwall.

5. A collection of tin ore, cobalt, uranite, &c. from Saxony.

6. A series of minerals from Simplon, St. Gothard, the Tyrol, Transylvania, as well as from Egypt and America. All these articles, without being striking from their size, and other accessory qualities to be remarked in costly specimens, incontestably present a rich fund of instruction to persons delirous of fathoming science, by multiplying the points of view under which mineral productions may be observed.

Such is the present state of the mineralogical collection of the Conseil des Mines, which the superintendants will, no doubt, with time and attention, bring to the highest degree of perfection. It is open to the public every Monday and Thursday: but, on the other days of the week, amateurs and students have access to it.

A few years before the revolution, France was still considered as destitute of an infinite number of mineral riches, which were thought to belong exclusively to several of the surrounding countries. Germany was quoted as a country particularly favoured, in this respect, by Nature. Yet France is crossed by mountains similar to those met with in Germany, and these mountains contain rocks of the same species as those of that country which is so rich in minerals. What has happened might therefore have been foreseen; namely, that, when intelligent men, with an experienced eye, should examine the soil of the various departments of the Republic, they would find in it not only substances hitherto considered as scarce, but even several of those whose existence there had not yet been suspected. Since the revolution, the following are the

Principal Mineral Substances discovered in France.

Dolomite in the mountains of Vosges and in the Pyrenees.

Carburet of iron or plumbago, in the south peak of Bigorre. The same variety has been been found near Argentière, and the valley of Chamouny, department of Mont-Blanc.

A rock of the appearance of porphyry, with a calcareous base, in the same valley of Chamouny.

Tremolite or grammatite of HAÜY, in the same place. These two last-mentioned substances were in terminated crystals.

Red oxyd of titanium, in the same place.

New violet schorl, or sphene of HAÜY, (rayonnante en goutière of SAUSSURE) in the same place.

Crystallized sulphate of strontia, in the mines of Villefort in La Lozère, in the environs of Paris, at Bartelemont, near the Salterns in the department of La Meurthe.

Fibrous and crystallized sulphate of strontia, at Bouvron, near Toul.

Earthy sulphate of strontia, in the vicinity of Paris, near the forest of Montmorency, and to the north-east of it.

Onyx-agate-quartz, at Champigny, in the department of La Seine.

Avanturine-quartz, in the Deux-Sevres.

Marine bodies, imbedded in the soil, a little above the Oule de Gavernie.

Anthracite, and its direction determined in several departments.

Other marine bodies, at the height of upwards of 3400 mètres or 3683 yards, on the summit of Mont-Perdu, in the Upper Pyrenées.

Wolfram, near St. Yriex, in Upper Vienne.

Oxyd of antimony, at Allemont, in the department of L'Isère.

Chromate of iron, near Gassin, in the department of Le Var, at the bastide of the cascade.

Oxyd of uranite, at St. Simphorien de Marmagne, in the department of La Côte d'Or.

Acicular arsenical lead ore, at St. Prix, in the department of Saone and Loire. This substance was found among some piles of rubbish, near old works made for exploring a vein of lead ore, which lies at the foot of a mountain to the north-east, and at three quarters of a league from the commune of St. Prix.

In this country have likewise been found several varieties of new interesting forms relative to substances already known; several important geological facts have been ascertained; and, lastly, the emerald has here been recently discovered. France already possesses eighteen of the twenty-one metallic substances known. Few countries inherit from Nature the like advantages.

With respect to the administration of the mines of France, the under-mentioned are the regulations now in force.

A council composed of three members, is charged to give to the Minister of the Interior ideas, together with their motives, respecting every thing that relates to mines. It corresponds, in the terms of the law, with all the grantees and with all persons who explore mines, salterns, and quarries. It superintends the research and extraction of all substances drawn from the bosom of the earth, and their various management. It proposes the grants, permissions, and advances to be made, and the encouragements to be given. Under its direction are the two practical schools, and twenty-five engineers of mines, nine of whom are spread over different parts of the French territory. General information relative to statistics, every thing that can concur in the formation of the mineralogical map of France and complete the collection of her minerals, and all observations and memoirs relative to the art of mines or of the different branches of metallurgy, are addressed by the engineers to the Conseil des Mines at Paris.

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Letter LXX

Paris, February 20, 1802.

Having fully described to you all the theatres here of the first and second rank, I shall confine myself to a rapid sketch of those which may be classed in the third order.[1]

THÉÂTRE MONTANSIER.

This house stands at the north-west angle of the Palais du Tribunat. It is of an oval form, and contains three tiers of boxes, exclusively of a large amphitheatre. Before the revolution, it bore the name of Théâtre des Petits Comédiens du Comte de Beaujolais, and was famous for the novelty of the spectacle here given. Young girls and boys represented little comedies and comic operas in the following manner. Some gesticulated on the stage; while others, placed in the side-scenes, spoke or sang their parts without being seen. It was impossible to withhold one's admiration from the perfect harmony between the motions of the one and the speaking and singing of the other. In short, this double acting was executed with such precision that few strangers detected the deception.

To these actors succeeded full-grown performers, who have since continued to play interludes of almost every description. Indeed, this theatre is the receptacle of all the nonsense imaginable; nothing is too absurd or too low for its stage. Here are collected all the trivial expressions to be met with in this great city, whether made use of in the markets, gaming-houses, taverns, or dancing-rooms.

CAROLINE and BRUNET, or BRUNET and CAROLINE. They are like two planets, round which move a great number of satellites, some more imperceptible than others. If to these we add TIERCELIN, an actor of the grotesque species, little more is to be said. Were it not for BRUNET, who makes the most of his comic humour, in playing all sorts of low characters, and sometimes in a manner truly original, and Mademoiselle CAROLINE, whose clear, flexible, and sonorous voice insures the success of several little operas, the Théâtre Montansier would not be able to maintain its ground, notwithstanding the advantages of its centrical situation, and the attractions of its lobby, where the impures of the environs exhibit themselves to no small advantage, and literally carry all before them.

We now come to the theatres on the Boulevard, at the head of which is to be placed

L'AMBIGU COMIQUE.

This little theatre is situated on the Boulevard du Temple, and, of all those of the third order, has most constantly enjoyed the favour of the public. Previously to the revolution, AUDINOT drew hither crowded houses by the representation of comic operas and bad drames of a gigantic nature, called here pantomimes dialoguées. The effects of decoration and show were carried farther at this little theatre than at any other. Ghosts, hobgoblins, and devils were, in the sequel, introduced. All Paris ran to see them, till the women were terrified, and the men disgusted.

CORSE, the present manager, has of late added considerably to the attraction of the Ambigu Comique, by not only restoring it to what it was in the most brilliant days of AUDINOT, but by collecting all the best actors and dancers of the Boulevard, and improving on the plan adopted by his predecessor. He has neglected nothing necessary for the advantageous execution of the new pieces which he has produced. The most attractive of these are Victor, le Pélerin blanc, L'Homme à trois visages, Le Jugement de Salomon, &c.

The best performers at this theatre are CORSE, the manager, TAUTIN, and Mademoiselle LEVESQUE.

* * * * *

In regard to all the other minor theatres, the enumeration of which I have detailed to you in a preceding letter,[2] I shall briefly, observe that the curiosity of a stranger may be satisfied in paying each of them a single visit. Some of these petits spectacles are open one day, shut the next, and soon after reopened with performances of a different species. Therefore, to attempt a description of their attractions would probably be superfluous; and, indeed, the style of the pieces produced is varied according to the ideas of the speculators, the taste of the managers, or the abilities of the performers, who, if not "the best actors in the world," are ready to play either "tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral, scene individable, or poem unlimited."

[Footnote 1: The Theatre of the Porte St. Martin not having been open, when this letter was written, it is not here noticed. It may be considered as of the second rank. Its representations include almost every line of acting; but those for which the greatest expense is incurred are melo-drames and pieces connected with pantomime and parade. The house is the same in which the grand French opera was performed before the revolution.]

[Footnote 2: See Vol. i. Letter XXI.]

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Letter LXXI

Paris, February 22, 1802.

The variety of matter which crowds itself on the mind of a man who attempts to describe this immense capital, forms such a chaos, that you will, I trust, give me credit for the assertion, when I assure you that it is not from neglect or inattention I sometimes take more time than may appear strictly necessary to comply with your wishes. Considering how deeply it involves the peace and comfort of strangers, as well as inhabitants, I am not at all surprised at the anxiety which you express to acquire some knowledge of the

POLICE OF PARIS.

In the present existing circumstances, it might be imprudent, if not dangerous, to discuss, freely openly, so delicate a question. I shall take a middle course. Silence would imply fear; while boldness of expression might give offence; and though I certainly am not afraid to mention the subject, yet to offend, is by no means my wish or intention. In this country, the Post-Office has often been the channel through which the opinion of individuals has been collected. What has been, may again occur; and in such critical times, who knows, but the government may conceive itself justified in not considering as absolutely sacred the letters intrusted to that mode of conveyance? Under these considerations, I shall beg leave to refer you to a work which has gone through the hands of every inquisitive reader; that is the Tableau de Paris, published in 1788: but, on recollection, as this letter will, probably, find you in the country, where you may not have an immediate opportunity of gratifying your curiosity, and as the book is become scarce, I shall select from it for your satisfaction a few extracts concerning the Police.

This establishment is necessary and useful for maintaining order and tranquillity in a city like Paris, where the very extremes of luxury and wretchedness are continually in collision. I mean useful, when no abuse is made of its power; and it is to be hoped that the present government of France is too wise and too just to convert an institution of public utility into an instrument of private oppression.

Since the machinery of the police was first put in order by M. D'ARGENSON, in 1697, its wheels and springs have been continually multiplied by the thirteen ministers who succeeded him in that department. The last of these was the celebrated M. LENOIR.

The present Minister of the Police, M. FOUCHÉ, has, it seems, adopted, in a great measure, the means put in practice before the revolution. His administration, according to general report, bears most resemblance to that of M. LENOIR: he is said, however, to have improved on that vigilant magistrate: but he surpasses him, I am told, more in augmentation of expenses and agents, than in real changes.[1]

In selecting from the before-mentioned work the following widely scattered passages, and assembling them as a piece of Mosaic, it has been my endeavour to enable you to form an impartial judgment of the police of Paris, by exhibiting it with all its perfections and imperfections. Borrowing the language of MERCIER, I shall trace the institution through all its ramifications, and, in pointing out its effects, I shall "nothing extenuate, nor set down aught in malice."

If we take it for granted, that the police of Paris is now exercised on the same plan as that pursued towards the close of the old régime, this sketch will be the more interesting, as its resemblance to the original will exempt me from adding a single stroke from my own pencil.

"D'ARGENSON was severe," says MERCIER, "perhaps because he felt, in first setting the machine in motion, a resistance which his successors have less experienced. For a long time it was imagined that a Minister of Police ought to be harsh; he ought to be firm only. Several of these magistrates have laid on too heavy a hand, because they were not acquainted with the people of Paris; a people of quick feeling, but not ferocious[2], whose motions are to be divined, and consequently easy to be led. Whoever should be void of pity in that post, would be a monster."

MERCIER then gives the fragment by FONTENELLE, on the police of Paris and on M. D'ARGENSON, of which I shall select only what may be necessary for elucidating the main subject.

"The inhabitants of a well-governed city," says FONTENELLE, "enjoy the good order which is there established, without considering what trouble it costs those who establish or preserve it, much in the same manner as all mankind enjoy the regularity of the motions of celestial bodies, without having any knowledge of them, and even the more the good order of a police resembles by its uniformity that of the celestial bodies, the more is it imperceptible, and, consequently, the more it is unknown, the greater is its perfection. But he who would wish to know it and fathom it, would be terrified. To keep up perpetually in a city, like Paris, an immense consumption, some sources of which may always be dried up by a variety of accidents; to repress the tyranny of shop-keepers in regard to the public, and at the same time animate their commerce; to prevent the mutual usurpations of the one over the other, often difficult to discriminate; to distinguish in a vast crowd all those who may easily conceal there a hurtful industry; to purge society of them, or tolerate them only as far as they can be useful to it by employments which no others but themselves would undertake, or discharge so well; to keep necessary abuses within the precise limits of necessity which they are always ready to over-leap; to envelop them in the obscurity to which they ought to be condemned, and not even draw them from it by chastisement too notorious; to be ignorant of what it is better to be ignorant of than to punish, and to punish but seldom and usefully; to penetrate by subterraneous avenues into the bosom of families, and keep for them the secrets which they have not confided, as long as it is not necessary to make use of them; to be present every where without being seen; in short, to move or stop at pleasure an immense multitude, and be the soul ever-acting, and almost unknown, of this great body: these are, in general, the functions of the chief magistrate of the police. It should seem that one man alone could not be equal to them, either on account of the quantity of things of which he must be informed, or of that of the views which he must follow, or of the application which he must exert, or of the variety of conduct which he most observe, and of the characters which he must assume: but the public voice will answer whether M. D'ARGENSON has been equal to them.

"Under him, cleanliness, tranquillity, plenty, and safety were brought to the highest degree of perfection in this city. And, indeed, the late king (Lewis XIV) relied entirely on his care respecting Paris. He could have given an account of a person unknown who should have stolen into it in the dark; this person, whatever ingenuity he exerted in concealing himself, was always under his eye; and if, at last, any one escaped him, at least what produced almost the same effect, no one would have dared to think himself well-concealed.

"Surrounded and overwhelmed in his audiences by a crowd of people chiefly of the lower class, little informed themselves of what brought them, warmly agitated by interests very trifling, and frequently very ill understood, accustomed to supply the place of discourse by senseless clamour, he neither betrayed the inattention nor the disdain which such persons or such subjects might have occasioned."

"FONTENELLE has not," continues MERCIER, "spoken of the severity of M. D'ARGENSON, of his inclination to punish, which was rather a sign of weakness than of strength. Alas! human laws, imperfect and rude, cannot dive to the bottom of the human heart, and there discover the causes of the delinquencies which they have to punish! They judge only from the surface: they would acquit, perhaps, those whom they condemn; they would strike him whom they suffer to escape. But they cannot, I confess, do otherwise. Nevertheless, they ought to neglect nothing that serves to disclose the heart of man. They ought to estimate the strength of natural and indestructible passions, not in their effects, but in their principles; to pay attention to the age, the sex, the time, the day; these are nice rules, which could not be found in the brain of the legislator, but which ought to be met with in that of a Minister of the Police."

"There are also epidemical errors in which the multitude of those who go astray, seems to lessen the fault; in which a sort of circumspection is necessary, in order that punishment may not be in opposition to public interest, because punishment would then appear absurd or barbarous, and indignation might recoil on the law, as well as on the magistrate."

"What a life has a Minister of Police! He has not a moment that he can call his own; he is every day obliged to punish; he is afraid to give way to indulgence, because he does not know that he may not one day have to reproach himself with it. He is under the necessity of being severe, and of acting contrary to the inclination of his heart; not a crime is committed but he receives the shameful or cruel account: he hears of nothing but vicious men and vices; every instant he is told: 'there's a murder! a suicide! a rape!' Not an accident happens but he must prescribe the remedy, and hastily; he has but a moment to deliberate and act, and he must be equally fearful to abuse the power intrusted to him, and not to use it opportunely. Popular rumours, flighty conversations, theatrical factions, false alarms, every thing concerns him.

"Is he gone to rest? A fire rouses him from his bed. He must be answerable for every thing; he must trace the robber, and the lurking assassin who has committed a crime; for the magistrate appears blameable, if he has not found means to deliver him up quickly to justice. The time that his agents have employed in this capture will be calculated, and his honour requires that the interval between the crime and the imprisonment should be the shortest possible. What dreadful duties! What a laborious life! And yet this place is coveted!

"On some occasions, it is necessary for the Minister of Police to demean himself like a true Greek, as was the case in the following instance:

"A person, being on the point of making a journey, had in his possession a sum of twenty thousand livres which embarrassed him; he had only one servant, whom he mistrusted, and the sum was tempting. He accordingly requested a friend to be so obliging as to take care of it for him till his return.

"A fortnight after, the friend denied the circumstance. As there was no proof, the civil law could not pronounce in this affair. Recourse was had to the Minister of Police, who pondered a moment, and sent for the receiver, making the accuser retire into an adjoining room:

"The friend arrives, and maintains that he has not received the twenty thousand livres. 'Well,' said the magistrate, 'I believe you; and as you are innocent you run no, risk in writing to your wife the note that I am going to dictate. Write.

"'"My dear wife, all is discovered. I shall be punished if I do not restore you know what. Bring the sum: your coming quickly to my relief is the only way for me to get out of trouble and obtain my pardon."

"'This note,' added the magistrate, 'will fully justify you. Your wife can bring nothing since you have received nothing, and your accuser will be foiled.'

"The note was dispatched; the wife, terrified, ran with the twenty thousand livres.

"Thus the Minister of Police can daily make up for the imperfection and tardiness of our civil laws; but he ought to use this rare and splendid privilege with extreme circumspection.

"The chief magistrate of the police is become a minister of importance; he has a secret and prodigious influence; he knows so many things, that he can do much mischief or much good, because he has in hand a multitude of threads which he can entangle or disentangle at his pleasure; he strikes or he saves; he spreads darkness or light: his authority is as delicate as it is extensive.

"The Minister of Police exercises a despotic sway over the mouchards who are found disobedient, or who make false reports: as for these fellows, they are of a class so vile and so base, that the authority to which they have sold themselves, has necessarily an absolute right over their persons.

"This is not the case with those who are apprehended in the name of the police; they may have committed trifling faults: they may have enemies in that crowd of exempts, spies, and satellites, who are believed on their word. The eye of the magistrate may be incessantly deceived, and the punishment of these crimes ought to be submitted to a more deliberate investigation; but the house of correction ingulfs a vast number of men who there become still more perverted, and who, on coming out, are still more wicked than when they went in. Being degraded in their own eyes, they afterwards plunge themselves headlong into all sorts of irregularities.

"These different imprisonments are sometimes rendered necessary by imperious circumstances; yet it were always to be wished that the detention of a citizen should not depend on a single magistrate, but that there should be a sort of tribunal to examine when this great act of authority, withdrawn from the eye of the law, ceases to be illegal.

"A few real advantages compensate for these irregular forms, and there are, in fact, an infinite number of irregularities which the slow and grave process of our tribunals can neither take cognizance of, nor put a stop to, nor foresee, nor punish. The audacious or subtle delinquent would triumph in the winding labyrinth of our civil laws. The laws of the police, more direct, watch him, press him, and surround him mose closely. The abuse, is contiguous to the benefit, I admit; but a great many private acts of violence, base and shameful crimes, are repressed by this vigilant and active force which ought, nevertheless, to publish its code and submit it to the inspection of enlightened citizens."

"Could the Minister of Police communicate to the philosopher all he knows, all he learns, all he sees, and likewise impart to him certain secret things, of which he alone is well-informed, there would be nothing so curious and so instructive under the pen of the philosopher; for he would astonish all his brethren. But this magistrate is like the great penitentiary; he hears every thing, relates nothing, and is not astonished at certain delinquencies in the same degree as another man. By dint of seeing the tricks of roguery, the crimes of vice, secret treachery, and all the filth of human actions, he has necessarily a little difficulty in giving credit to the integrity and virtue of honest people. He is in a perpetual state of mistrust; and, in the main, he ought to possess such a character; for, he ought to think nothing impossible, after the extraordinary lessons which he receives from men and from things. In a word, his place commands a continual, and scrutinizing suspicion."

* * * * *

February 22, in continuation.

"Even should not the Parisian have the levity with which he is reproached, reason would justify him in its adoption. He walks surrounded by spies. No sooner do two citizens whisper to each other, than up comes a third, who prowls about in order to listen to what they are saying. The spies of the police are a regiment of inquisitive fellows; with this difference, that each individual belonging to this regiment has a distinct dress, which he changes frequently every day; and nothing so quick or so astonishing, as these sorts of metamorphoses.

"The same spy who figures as a private gentleman in the morning, in the evening represents a priest: at one time, he is a peaceable limb of the law; at another, a swaggering bully. The next day, with a gold-headed cane in his hand, he will assume the deportment of a monied man buried in calculations; the most singular disguises are quite familiar to him. In the course of the twenty-four hours, he is an officer of distinction and a journeyman hair-dresser, a shorn apostle and a scullion. He visits the dress-ball and the lowest sink of vice. At one time with a diamond ring on his finger, at another with the most filthy wig on his head, he almost changes his countenance as he does his apparel; and more than one of these mouchards would teach the French Roscius the art of decomposing himself; he is all eyes, all ears, all legs; for he trots, I know not how, over the pavement of every quarter of the town. Squatted sometimes in the corner of a coffee-room, you would take him for a dull, stupid, tiresome fellow, snoring till supper is ready: he has seen and heard all that has passed. At another time, he is an orator, and been the first to make a bold speech; he courts you to open your mind; he interprets even your silence, and whether you speak to him or not, he knows what you think of this or that proceeding.

"Such is the universal instrument employed in Paris for diving into secrets; and this is what determines the actions of persons in power more willingly than any thing that could be imagined in reasoning or politics.

"The employment of spies has destroyed the ties of confidence and friendship. None but frivolous questions are agitated, and the government dictates, as it were, to citizens the subject on which they shall speak in the evening in coffee-houses, as well as in private circles.

"The people have absolutely lost every idea of civil or political administration; and if any thing could excite laughter in the midst of an ignorance so deplorable, it would be the conversation of such a silly fellow who constantly imagines that Paris must give the law and the ton to all Europe, and thence to all the world.

"The men belonging to the police are a mass of corruption which the Minister of that department divides into two parts: of the one, he makes spies or mouchards; of the other, satellites, exempts, that is, officers, whom he afterwards lets loose against pickpockets, swindlers, thieves, &c., much in the same manner as a huntsman sets hounds on wolves and foxes.

"The spies have other spies at their heels, who watch over them, and see that they do their duty. They all accuse each other reciprocally, and worry one another for the vilest gain."

I cannot here avoid interrupting my copious but laboriously-gathered selection from MERCIER, to relate an anecdote which shews in what a detestable light mouchards are considered in Paris.

A man who appeared to be in tolerably good circumstances, fell in love, and married a girl whom the death of her parents and accumulated distress had driven to a life of dissipation. At the end of a few months, she learnt that her husband was a spy of the police. "Probably," said, she to him, "you did not take up this trade till after you had reflected that in following that of a thief or a murderer, you would have risked your life." On saying this, she ran out of the house, and precipitated herself from the Pont Royal into the Seine, where she was drowned.--But to resume the observations of MERCIER.

"It is from these odious dregs," continues our author, "that public order arises.

"When the mouchards of the police have acted contrary to their instructions, they are confined in the house of correction; but they are separated from the other prisoners, because they would be torn to pieces by those whom they have caused to be imprisoned, and who would recognize them. They inspire less pity on account of the vile trade which they follow. One sees with surprise, and with still more pain, that these fellows are very young. Spies, informers at sixteen!--O! what a shocking life does this announce!" exclaims MERCIER. "No; nothing ever distressed me more than to see boys act such a part.... And those who form them into squads, who drill them, who corrupt such inexperienced youth!"

Such is the admirable order which reigns in Paris, that a man suspected or described is watched so closely, that his smallest steps are known, till the very moment when it is expedient to apprehend him.

"The description taken of the man is a real portrait, which it is impossible to mistake; and the art of thus describing the person by words, is carried to so great a nicety, that the best writer, after much reflection on the matter, could add nothing to it, nor make use of other expressions.

"The Theseuses of the police are on foot every night to purge the city of robbers, and it might be said that the lions, bears, and tigers are chained by political order.

"There are also the court-spies, the town-spies, the bed-spies, the street-spies, the spies of impures, and the spies of wits: they are all called by the name of mouchards, the family name of the first spy employed by the court of France.

"Men of fashion at this day follow the trade of mouchards; most of them style themselves Monsieur le Baron, Monsieur le Comte, Monsieur le Marquis. There was a time, under Lewis XV, when spies were so numerous, that it was impossible for friends, who assembled together, to open their heart to each other concerning matters which deeply affected their interest. The ministerial inquisition had posted its sentinels at the door of every room, and listeners in every closet. Ingenuous confidences, made from friends to friends, and intended to die in the very bosom where they had been deposited, were punished as dangerous conspiracies.

"These odious researches poisoned social life, deprived men of pleasures the most innocent, and transformed citizens into enemies who trembled to unbosom themselves to each other.

"One fourth of the servants in Paris serve as spies; and the secrets of families, which are thought the most concealed, come to the knowledge of those interested in being acquainted with them.

"Independently of the spies of the police, ministers have spies belonging to themselves, and keep them in pay: these are the most dangerous of all, because they are less suspected than others, and it is more difficult to know them. By these means, ministers know what is said of them; yet, of this they avail themselves but little. They are more intent to ruin their enemies, and thwart their adversaries, than to derive a prudent advantage from the free and ingenuous hints given them by the multitude.

"It is entertaining enough to consider that, in proper time and place, spies are watching him who, at his pleasure, sets spies to watch other citizens. Thus, the links which connect mankind in political order are really incomprehensible. He who does not admire the manner in which society exists, and is supported by the simultaneous reaction of its members, and who sees not the serpent's tail entering its mouth, is not born for reflection.

"But the secrets of courts are not revealed through spies; they get wind by means of certain people who are not in the least mistrusted; in like manner the best built ships leak through an imperceptible chink, which cannot be discovered.

"What is interesting in courts, and particularly so in ours," says MERCIER, "is that there is a degree of obscurity spread over all its proceedings. We wish to penetrate what is concealed, we endeavour to know till we learn; thus it is that the most ingenious machine preserves its highest value only till we have seen the springs which set it in motion.

"After having considered the different parts which form the police of the capital, we still perceive all the radii reaching from the centre to the circumference. How many ramifications issue from the same stem! How far the branches extend! What an impulse does not Paris give to other neighbouring cities!

"The police of Paris has an intimate correspondence with that of Lyons and other provincial cities: for it is evident that it would be imperfect, if it could not follow the disturber of public order, and if the distance of a few leagues skreened him from researches.

"The correspondence of the Parisian police is not therefore limited to its walls; it extends much farther; and it is in towns where imprudent or rash persons would imagine that they might give their tongue greater freedom, that the vigilant magistrate pries into conversation, and keeps a watchful eye over those who would measure their audacity by the degree of distance from the capital.

"Thus the police of Paris, after having embraced France, penetrates also into Switzerland, Italy, Holland, and Germany;[3] and when occasion requires, its eye is open on all sides to what can interest the government. When it wishes to know any fact, it is informed of it to a certainty; when it wishes to strike a serious blow, it seldom misses its aim.

"It may easily be conceived that the machine would be incomplete, and that its play would fail in the desired effect, did it not embrace a certain extent. It costs but little to give to the lever the necessary length. Whether the spy be kept in pay at Paris, or a hundred leagues off, the expense is the same, and the utility becomes greater.

"Experience has shewn that these observations admit of essential differences in the branches of the police. Weights and measures must be changed, according to time, place, persons, and circumstances. There are no fixed rules; they must be created at the instant, and the most versatile actions are not destitute of wisdom and reason.

"Of this wholesale legislators are not aware: it is reserved for practitioners to seize these shades of distinction. There must be a customary, and, as it were, every-day policy, in order to decide well without precipitation, without weakness, and without rigour. What would be a serious fault at Paris, would be a simple imprudence at Lyons, an indifferent thing elsewhere, and so on reciprocally.

"Now this science has not only its details and its niceties, it has also its variations, and sometimes even its oppositions. Ministers must have a steady eye and great local experience, in order to be able to strike true, and strike opportunely, without espousing imaginary terrors; which, in matters of police, is the greatest fault that can be committed.[4]

"LYCURGUS, SOLON, LOCKE, and PENN! you have made very fine and majestic laws; but would you have divined these? Although secret, they exist; they have their wisdom, and even their depth. The distance of a few leagues gives to matters of police two colours, which bear to each other no resemblance; and there is no principal town which is not obliged, in modeling its police on that of Paris, to introduce into it the greatest modifications. The motto of every Minister of Police ought to be this: The letter of the law kills, its spirit gives life.

"The safety of Paris, during the night, is owing to the guard[5] and two or three hundred mouchards, who trot about the streets, and recognize and follow suspected persons. It is chiefly by night that the police makes its captions."

The manner in which these captions are made is humorously, gravely, feelingly, and philosophically described by the ingenious MERCIER. Long as this letter already is, I am confident that you will not regret its being still lengthened by another extract or two relative to this interesting point; thus I shall terminate the only elucidation that you are likely to obtain on a subject which has so strongly excited your curiosity.

"The comic," says our lively author, "is here blended with the serious. The fulminating order, which is going to crush you, is in the pocket of the exempt, who feels a degree of pleasure in the exercise of his dreadful functions. He enjoys a secret pride in being bearer of the thunder; he fancies himself the eagle of Jove: but his motion is like that of a serpent. He glides along, dodges you, crouches before you, approaches your ear, and with down-cast eyes and a soft-toned voice, says to you, at the same time shrugging his shoulders: 'Je suis au désespoir, Monsieur; mais j'ai un ordre, Monsieur, qui vous arrête, Monsieur; de la part de la police, Monsieur.'----'Moi, Monsieur?'----'Vous-même, Monsieur.'----You waver an instant between anger and indignation, ready to vent all sorts of imprecations. You see only a polite, respectful, well-bred man, bowing to you, mild in his speech, and civil in his manners. Were you the most furious of mankind, your wrath would be instantly disarmed. Had you pistols, you would discharge them in the air, and never against the affable exempt. Presently you return him his bows: there even arises between you a contest of politeness and good breeding. It is a reciprocity of obliging words and compliments, till the moment when the resounding bolts separate you from the polite man, who goes to make a report of his mission, and whose employment, by no means an unprofitable one, is to imprison people with all possible gentleness, urbanity, and grace.

"I am walking quietly in the street; before me is a young man decently dressed. All at once four fellows seize on him, collar him, push him against the wall, and drag him away. Natural instinct commands me to go to his assistance; a tranquil witness says to me coolly: 'Don't interfere; 'tis nothing, sir, but a caption made by the police.' The young man is handcuffed, and he disappears.

"I wish to enter a narrow street, a man belonging to the guard is posted there as a sentinel: I perceive several of the populace looking out of the windows. 'What's the matter, sir?' say I.---- 'Nothing,' replies he; 'they are only taking up thirty girls of the town at one cast of the net.' Presently the girls, with top-knots of all colours, file off, led by the soldiers of the guard, who lead them gallantly by the hand, with their muskets clubbed.

"It is eleven o'clock at night, or five in the morning, there is a knock at your door; your servant opens it; in a moment your room is filled with a squad of satellites. The order is precise, resistance is vain; every thing that might serve as a weapon is put out of your reach; and the exempt, who will not, on that account, boast the less of his bravery even takes your brass pocket-inkstand for a pistol.

"The next day, a neighbour, who has heard a noise in the house, asks what it might be: 'Nothing, 'tis only a man taken up by the police.' ----'What has he done?'----'No one can tell; he has, perhaps, committed a murder, or sold a suspicious pamphlet.'----'But, sir, there's some difference between those two crimes.'----'May be so; but he is carried off.'

"You have been apprehended; but you have not been shewn the order; you have been put into a carriage closely shut up; you know not whither you are going to be taken; but you may be certain that you will visit the wards or dungeons of some prison.

"Whence proceeds the decree of proscription? You cannot rightly guess.

"It is not necessary to write a thick volume against arbitrary arrests. When one has said, it is an arbitrary act, one may, without any difficulty, infer every possible consequence. But all captions are not equally unjust: there are a multitude of secret and dangerous crimes which it would be impossible for the ordinary course of the law to take cognizance of, to put a stop to, and punish. When the minister is neither seduced nor deceived, when he yields not to private passion, to blind prepossession, to misplaced severity, his object is frequently to get rid of a disturber of the public peace; and the police, in the manner in which the machine is set up, could not proceed, at the present day, without this quick, active, and repressive power.

"It were only to be wished that there should be afterwards a particular tribunal, which should weigh in an exact scale the motives of each caption, in order that imprudence and guilt, the pen and the poniard, the book and the libel, might not be confounded.

"The inspectors of police determine on their part a great many subaltern captions; as they are generally believed on their word, and as they strike only the lowest class of the people, the chief readily concedes to them the details of this authority.

"Some yield to their peevishness; others, to their caprice: but who knows whether avarice has not also a share in their proceedings, and whether they do not often favour him who pays at the expense of him who does not pay? Thus the liberty of the distressed and lowest citizens would have a tarif; and this strange tax would bear hard on the very numerous portion of prostitutes, professed gamblers, quacks, hawkers, swindlers, and adventurers, all people who do mischief, and whom it is necessary to punish; but who do more mischief when they are obliged to pay, and purchase, during a certain time, the privilege of their irregularities.

"We have imitated from the English their Vauxhall, their Ranelagh, their whist, their punch, their hats, their horse-races, their jockies, their betting; but," concludes MERCIER, "when shall we copy from them something more important, for instance, that bulwark of liberty, the law of habeas corpus?"

[Footnote 1: The office of Minister of the Police has since been abolished. M. FOUCHÉ is now a Senator, and the machine of which he was said to be so expert a manager, is confided to the direction of the Prefect of Police, who exercises his functions under the immediate authority of the Ministers, and corresponds with them concerning matters which relate to their respective departments. The higher duties of the Police are at present vested in the Grand Juge, who is also Minister of Justice. The former office is of recent creation.]

[Footnote 2: Voltaire thought otherwise; and he was not mistaken.]

[Footnote 3: I shall exemplify this truth by two remarkable facts. About the year 1775, when M. DE SARTINE was Minister of the Police, several forgeries were committed on the Bank of Vienna; Count DE MERCY, then Austrian ambassador at Paris, was directed to make a formal application for the delinquent to be delivered up to justice. What was his astonishment on receiving, a few hours after, a note from M. DE SARTINE, informing him that the author of the said forgeries had never been in Paris; but resided in Vienna, at the same time mentioning the street, the number of the house, and other interesting particulars!

A circumstance which occurred in 1796, proves that, since the revolution, the system of the Parisian police continues to extend to foreign countries. The English Commissary for prisoners of war was requested by a friend to make inquiry, on his arrival in Paris, whether a French lady of the name of BEAUFORT was living, and in what part of France she resided. He did so; and the following day, the card, on which he had written the lady's name, was returned to him, with this addition: "She lives at No. 47, East-street, Manchester-square, London."]

[Footnote 4: The same principle holds good in politics.]

[Footnote 5: The municipal guard of Paris at present consists of 2334 men. The privates must be above 30 and under 45 years of age.]

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

Letter LXXII

Paris, February 26, 1802.

Referring to an expression made use of in my letter of the 16th of December last,[1] you ask me "What the sciences, or rather the savans or men of science, have done for this people?" With the assistance of a young Professor in the Collège de France, who bids fair to eclipse all his competitors, it will not be difficult for me to answer your question.

Let me premise, however, that the savans to whom I allude, must not be confounded with the philosophers, called Encyclopædists, from their having been the first to conceive and execute the plan of the Encyclopædia. These savans were DIDEROT, D'ALEMBERT, and VOLTAIRE, all professed atheists, who, by the dissemination of their pernicious doctrine, introduced into France an absolute contempt for all religion. This infidelity, dissolving every social tie, every principle between man and man, between the governing and the governed, in the sequel, produced anarchy, rapine, and all their attendant horrors.

At the beginning of the revolution, every mind being turned towards politics, the Sciences were suddenly abandoned: they could have no weight in the struggle which then occupied every imagination. Presently their existence was completely forgotten. Liberty formed the subject of every writing and every discourse: it seemed that orators alone possessed the power of serving her; and this error was partly the cause of the calamities which afterwards overwhelmed France. The greater part of the savans remained simple spectators of the events which were preparing: not one of them openly took part against the revolution. Some involved themselves in it. Those men were urged by great views, and hoped to find, in the renewal of social organization, a mean of applying and realizing their theories. They thought to master the revolution, and were carried away by its torrent; but at that time the most sanguine hopes were indulged. If the love of liberty be no more than a phantom of the brain, if the wish to render men better and happier be no more than a matter of doubt, such errors may be pardoned in those who have paid for them with their life.

It is in the recollection of every one that the National Convention consisted of two parties, which, under the same exterior, were hastening to contrary ends: the one, composed of ignorant and ferocious men, ruled by force; the other, more enlightened, maintained its ground by address. The former, restless possessors of absolute power, and determined to grasp at every thing for preserving it, strove to annihilate the talents and knowledge which made them sensible of their humiliating inferiority. The others, holding the same language, acted in an opposite direction. But being obliged, in order to preserve their influence, never to shew themselves openly, they employed their means with an extreme reserve, and this similarity at once explains the good they did, the evil they prevented, and the calamities which they were unable to avert.

At that time, France was on the very brink of ruin. Landrecies, Le Quesnoy, Condé and Valenciennes were in the power of her enemies. Toulon had been given up to the English, whose numerous fleets held the dominion of the seas, and occasionally effected debarkations. This country was a prey to famine and terror; La Vendée, Lyons, and Marseilles were in a state of insurrection. No arms, no powder; no ally that could or would furnish any; and its only resource lay in an anarchical government without either plan or means of defence, and skilful only in persecution. In a word, every thing announced that the Republic would perish, before it could enjoy a year's existence.

In this extremity, two new members were called to the Committee of Public Welfare. These two men organized the armies, conceived plans of campaign, and prepared supplies.

It was necessary to arm nine hundred thousand men; and what was most difficult, it was necessary to persuade a mistrustful people, ever ready to cry out "treason!" of the possibility of such a prodigy. For this purpose, the old manufactories were comparatively nothing; several of them, situated on the frontiers, were invaded by the enemy. They were revived every where with an activity till then unexampled. Savans or men of science were charged to describe and simplify the necessary proceedings. The melting of the church-bells yielded all the necessary metal.[2] Steel was wanting; none could be obtained from abroad, the art of making it was unknown. The Savans were asked to create it; they succeeded, and this part of the public defence thus became independent of foreign countries.

The exigencies of the war had rendered more glaring the urgent necessity of having good topographical maps, and the insufficiency of those in use became every day more evident. The geographical engineers, which corps had been suppressed by the Constituent Assembly, were recalled to the armies, and although they could not, in these first moments, give to their labours the necessary extent and detail, they nevertheless paved the way to the great results since obtained in this branch of the art military. Nothing is more easy than to destroy; nothing is so difficult, and, above all, so tedious as to reconstruct.

The persons then in power had likewise had the prudence to preserve in their functions such pupils and engineers in the civil line as were of an age to come under the requisition. Whatever might be the want of defenders, it was felt that it requires ten years' study to form an engineer; while health and courage suffice for making a soldier. This disastrous period affords instances of foresight and skill which have not always been imitated in times more tranquil.

The Sciences had just rendered great services to the country. They were calumniated; those who had made use of them were compelled to defend them, and did so with courage. A circumstance, equally singular and unforeseen, occasioned complete recourse to be had to their assistance.

An officer arrived at the Committee of Public Welfare: he announced that the republican armies were in presence of the enemy; but that the French generals durst not march their soldiers to battle, because the brandies were poisoned, and that the sick in the hospitals, having drunk some, had died. He requested the Committee to cause them to be examined, asked for orders on this subject, and wished to set off again immediately.

The most skilful chymists were instantly assembled: they were ordered to analyze the brandies, and to indicate, in the course of the day, the poison and the remedy.

These savans laboured without intermission, trusting only to themselves for the most minute details. Scarcely was time allowed them to finish their operations, when they were summoned to appear before the Committee of Public Welfare, over which ROBESPIERRE presided.

They announced that the brandies were not poisoned, and that water only had been added to them, in which was slate in suspension, so that it was sufficient to filter them, in order to deprive them of their hurtful quality.

ROBESPIERRE, who hoped to discover a treason, asked the Commissioners if they were perfectly sure of what they had just advanced. As a satisfactory answer to the question, one of them took a strainer, poured the liquor through it, and drank it without hesitation. All the others followed his example. "What!" said ROBESPIERRE to him, "do you dare to drink these poisoned brandies?"----"I durst do much more," answered he, "when I put my name to the Report."

This service, though in itself of little importance, impressed the public mind with a conception of the utility of the savans, a greater number of whom were called into the Committee of Public Welfare. There they were secure from subaltern informers, with which France abounded. Having concerns only with the members charged with the military department, who were endeavouring to save them, they might, by keeping silence, escape the suspicious looks of the tyrants of the day. There was then but one resource for men of merit and virtue, namely, to conceal their existence, and cause themselves to be forgotten.

In the midst of this sanguinary persecution, all the means of defence employed by France, issued from the obscure retreat where the genius of the Sciences had taken refuge.

Powder was the article for which there was the most urgent occasion. The soldiers were on the point of wanting it. The magazines were empty. The administrators of the powder-mills were assembled to know what they could do. They declared that the annual produce amounted to three millions of pounds only, that the basis of it was saltpetre drawn from India, that extraordinary encouragements might raise them to five millions; but that no hopes ought to be entertained of exceeding that quantity. When the members of the Committee of Public Welfare announced to the administrators that they must manufacture seventeen millions of pounds of powder in the space of a few months, the latter remained stupified. "If you succeed in doing this," said they, "you must have a method of making powder of which we are ignorant."

This, however, was the only mean of saving the country. As the French were almost excluded from the sea, it was impossible to think of procuring saltpetre from India. The savans offered to extract all from the soil of the Republic. A general requisition called to this labour the whole mass of the people. Short and simple directions, spread with inconceivable activity, made, of a difficult art, a common process. All the abodes of men and animals were explored. Saltpetre was sought for even in the ruins of Lyons; and soda, collected from among the ashes of the forests of La Vendée.

The results of this grand movement would have been useless, had not the Sciences been seconded by new efforts. Native saltpetre is not fit for making powder; it is mixed with salts and earths which render it moist, and diminish its activity. The process employed for purifying it demanded considerable time. The construction of powder-mills alone would have required several months, and before that period, France might have been subjugated. Chymistry invented new methods for refining and drying saltpetre in a few days. As a substitute for mills, pulverized charcoal, sulphur, and saltpetre were mixed, with copper balls, in casks which were turned round by hand. By these means, powder was made in twelve hours; and thus was verified that bold assertion of a member of the Committee of Public Welfare: "Earth impregnated with saltpetre shall be produced," said he, "and, in five days after, your cannon shall be loaded."

Circumstances were favourable for fixing, in all their perfection, the only arts which occupied France. Persons from all the departments were sent to Paris, in order to be instructed in the manufacture of arms and saltpetre. Rapid courses of lectures were given on this subject. They contributed little to the general movement, which had saved the Republic, but they had an effect no less important, that of bringing to light the astonishing facility of the French for acquiring the arts and sciences; a happy gift which forms one of the finest features in the character of the nation.

Notwithstanding so many services rendered by the Sciences, the learned were not less persecuted; the most celebrated among them were the most exposed. The venerable DAUBENTON, the co-operator in the labours of BUFFON, escaped persecution only because he had written a work on the improvement of sheep, and was taken for a simple shepherd. COUSIN was not so fortunate; yet, in his confinement, he had the stoicism to compose works of geometry, and give lessons of physics to his companions of misfortune.

LAVOISIER, that immortal character, whose generosity in promoting the progress of science could be equalled only by his own enlightened example in cultivating it, was also apprehended. As one of the Commissioners for fixing the standard of weights and measures, great hopes were entertained that he might be restored to liberty. Measures were taken with that intention; but these were not suited to the spirit of the moment. The commission was dissolved, and LAVOISIER left in prison. Shortly after, this ever to be lamented savant was taken to the scaffold. He would still be living, had his friends acted on the cupidity of the tyrants who then governed, instead of appealing to their justice.

About this period, some members of the Convention having introduced a discussion in favour of public instruction, it was strongly opposed by the revolutionary party, who saw in the Sciences nothing but a poison which enervated republics. According to them, the finest schools were the popular societies. To do good was then impossible, and to shew an inclination to do it, exposed to the greatest danger the small number of enlightened men France still possessed.

In this point of view, every thing was done that circumstances permitted. A military school was created, where young men from all the departments were habituated to the exercise of arms and the life of a camp. It was called L'École de Mars. Its object was not to form officers, but intelligent soldiers, who, spread in the French armies, should soon render them the most enlightened of Europe, as they were already the most inured to the hardships of war.

Thus, a small number of men, whose conduct has been too ill appreciated, alone retarded, by constant efforts, the progress of barbarism and struggled in a thousand ways against the oppression which others contented themselves with supporting.

At length, the bloody throne, raised by ROBESPIERRE, was overthrown: hope succeeded to terror; and victory, to defeat. Then, the Sciences, issuing from the focus in which they had been concentered and concealed, reappeared in all their lustre. The services they had rendered, the dangers which had threatened them, were felt and acknowledged. The plan of campaign, formed by the scientific men, called to the Committee of Public Welfare, had completely succeeded. The French armies had advanced on the rear of those of the allies, and, threatening to cut off their retreat, not only forced them to abandon the places they had taken, but also marched from conquest to conquest on their territory.

The means of having iron, steel, saltpetre, powder, and arms, had been created during the reign of terror. The following were the results of this grand movement at the beginning of the third year of the Republic.

Twelve millions of pounds of saltpetre extracted from the soil of France in the space of nine months. Formerly, scarcely one million was drawn from it.

Fifteen founderies at work for the casting of brass cannon. Their annual produce increased to 7000 pieces. There existed in France but two establishments of this description before the revolution.

Thirty founderies for iron ordnance, yielding 13,000 pieces per year. At the breaking out of the war, there were but four, which yielded annually 900 pieces of cannon.

The buildings for the manufacture of shells, shot, and all the implements of artillery, multiplied in the same proportion.

Twenty new manufactories for side-arms, directed by a new process. Before the war, there existed but one.

An immense manufactory of fire-arms established all at once in Paris, and yielding 140,000 muskets per year, that is, more than all the old manufactories together. Several establishments of this nature formed on the same plan in the different departments of the Republic.

One hundred and eighty-eight workshops for repairing arms of every description. Before the war, there existed but six.

The establishment of a manufactory of carbines, the making of which was till then unknown in France.

The art of renewing the touch-hole of cannon discovered, and carried immediately to a perfection which admits of its being exercised in the midst of camps.

A description of the means by which tar, necessary for the navy, may be speedily extracted from the pine-tree.

Balloons and telegraphs converted into machines of war.

All the process of the arts relative to war simplified and improved by the application of the most learned theories.

A secret establishment formed at Meudon for that purpose. Experiments there made on the oxy-muriate of potash, on fire-balls, on hollow-balls, on ring-balls, &c.

Great works begun for extracting from the soil of France every thing that serves for the construction, equipment, and supplies of ships of war.

Several researches for replacing or reproducing the principal materials which the exigencies of the war had consumed, and for increasing impure potash, which the making of powder had snatched from the other manufactories.

Simple and luminous directions for fixing the art of making soap, and bringing it within reach of the meanest capacity.

The invention of the composition of which pencils are now made in France, the black lead for which was previously drawn from England; and what was inappreciable in those critical circumstances, the discovery of a method for tanning, in a few days, leather which generally required several years' preparation.

In a word, if we speak of the territorial acquisitions, which were the result of the victories obtained by means of the extraordinary resources created by the men of science, France has acquired an extent of 1,498 square leagues, and a population of 4,381,266 individuals; namely, Savoy, containing 411,700 inhabitants; the County of Nice, 93,166; Avignon, the Comtat Venaissin, and Dutch Flanders, 200,500; Maëstricht and Venloo, 90,000; Belgium, 1,880,000; the left bank of the Rhine, 1,658,500; Geneva and its territory, 40,000; and Mulhausen, 7,200.

P.S. Paris is now all mirth and gaiety; in consequence of the revived pleasures of the Carnival. I shall not give you my opinion of it till its conclusion.

[Footnote 1: See Vol. I. Letter XXXIV.]

[Footnote 2: The bells produced 27,442,852 pounds of metal. This article, valued at 10 sous per pound, represents 15 millions of francs (circa £625,000 sterling). A part served for the fabrication of copper coin, the remainder furnished pieces of ordnance.]

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Letter LXXIII

Paris, February 28, 1802.

In all great cities, one may naturally expect to find great vices; but in regard to gaming, this capital presents a scene which, I will venture to affirm, is not to be matched in any part of the world. No where is the passion, the rage for play so prevalent, so universal: no where does it cause so much havock and ruin. In every class of society here, gamesters abound. From men revelling in wealth to those scarcely above beggary, every one flies to the gaming-table; so that it follows, as a matter of course, that Paris must contain a great number of Maisons de jeu, or

PUBLIC GAMING-HOUSES.

They are to be met with in all parts of the town, though the head-quarters are in the Palais du Tribunat, or, as it is most commonly called, the Palais Royal. Whenever you come to Paris, and see, on the first story, a suite of rooms ostentatiously illuminated, and a blazing reverberator at the door, you may be certain that it is a house of this description.

Before the revolution, gaming was not only tolerated in Paris, but public gaming-houses were then licensed by the government, under the agreeable name of Académies de jeu. There, any one might ruin himself under the immediate superintendance of the police, an officer belonging to which was always present. Besides these academies, women of fashion and impures of the first class were allowed to keep a gaming-table or tripot de jeu, as it was termed, in their own house. This was a privilege granted to them in order that they might thereby recover their shattered fortune. When all the necessary expenses were paid, these ladies commonly shared the profits with their protectors, that is, with their friends in power, through whose protection the tripot was sanctioned. Every one has heard of the fatal propensity to gaming indulged in by the unfortunate Marie Antoinette. The French women of quality followed her pernicious example, as the young male nobility did that of the Count d'Artois and the Duke of Orleans; so that, however decided might be the personal aversion of Lewis XVI to gaming, it never was more in fashion at the court of France than during his reign. This is a fact, which can be confirmed by General S---th and other Englishmen who have played deep at the queen's parties.

At the present day, play is, as I have before stated, much recurred to as a financial resource, by many of the ci-devant female noblesse in Paris. In their parties, bouillotte is the prevailing game; and the speculation is productive, if the company will sit and play. Consequently, the longer the sitting, the greater the profits. The same lady who moralizes in the morning, and will read you a lecture on the mischievous consequences of gaming, makes not the smallest hesitation to press you to sit down at her bouillotte in the evening, where she knows you will almost infallibly be a loser. No protection, I believe, is now necessary for a lady who chooses to have a little private gaming at her residence, under the specious names of société, bal, thé, or concert. But this is not the case with the Maisons de jeu, where the gaming-tables are public; or even with private houses, where the object of the speculation is publicly known. These purchase a license in the following manner. A person, who is said to have several sleeping partners, engages to pay to the government the sum of 3,600,000 francs (circa £150,000 sterling) a year for the power of licensing all gaming-houses in this capital, and also to account for a tenth part of the profits, which enter the coffer of the minister at the head of the department of the police. This contribution serves to defray part of the expense of greasing the wheels of that intricate machine. Without such a license, no gaming-house can be opened in Paris. Sometimes it is paid for by a share in the profits, sometimes by a certain sum per sitting.

These Maisons de jeu, where dupes are pitted against cheats, are filled from morning to night with those restless beings, who, in their eager pursuit after fortune, almost all meet with disappointment, wretchedness, ruin, and every mischief produced by gaming. This vice, however, carries with it its own punishment; but it is unconquerable in the heart which it ravages. It lays a man prostrate before those fantastic idols, distinguished by the synonymous names of fate, chance, and destiny. It banishes from his mind the idea of enriching himself, or acquiring a competence by slow and industrious means. It feeds, it inflames his cupidity, and deceives him in order to abandon him afterwards to remorse and despair.

From the mere impulse of curiosity, I have been led to visit some of the principal Maisons de jeu. I shall therefore represent what I have seen.

In a spacious suite of apartments, where different games of chance are played, is a table of almost immeasurable length, covered with a green cloth, with a red piece at one end, and a black, one at the other. It is surrounded by a crowd of persons of both sexes, squeezed together, who, all suspended between fear and hope, are waiting, with eager eyes and open mouth, for the favourable or luckless chance. I will suppose that the banker or person who deals the cards, announces "rouge perd, couleur gagne." The oracle has spoken. At these words of fate, on one side of the table, you see countenances smiling, but with a smile of inquietude, and on the other, long faces, on which is imprinted the palid hue of death. However, the losers recover from their stupor: they hope that the next chance will be more fortunate. If that happens, and the banker calls out "rouge gagne, couleur perd;" then the scene changes, and the same persons whom you have just seen so gay, make a sudden transition from joy to sadness, and vice versa. This contrast no language can paint, and you must see it, in order to conceive how the most headstrong gamblers can spend hour after hour in such a continual state of agitation, in which they are alternately overwhelmed by rage, anguish, and despair. Some are seen plucking out their hair by the roots, scratching their face, and tearing their clothes to pieces, when, after having lost considerable sums, frequently they have not enough left to pay for a breakfast or dinner. What an instructive lesaon for the novice! What a subject of reflection for the philosophic spectator! At these scenes of folly and rapacity it is that the demon of suicide exults in the triumphs he is on the point of gaining over the weakness, avarice, and false pride of mortals. If the wretched victim has not recourse to a pistol, he probably seeks a grave at the bottom of the river.

Among these professed gamblers, it often happens that some of them, in order to create what they term resources, imagine tricks and impostures scarcely credible. I shall relate an anecdote which I picked up in the course of my inquiries respecting the garning-houses in Paris. It may be necessary to premise that the counterfeit louis, which are in circulation in this country, and have nearly the appearance of the real coin, are employed by these knaves; they commonly produce them at night, because they then run less risk of being detected in passing them; but these means are very common and almost out of date.

In the great gaming-houses in Paris, it is customary to have on the table several rouleaux of louis d'or. An old, experienced gambler came one day to a house of this class, with his pockets full of leaden rouleaux of the exact form and size of those containing fifty louis d'or. He placed at one of the ends of the table (either black or red) one of his leaden rouleaux: he lost. The master of the bank took up his rouleau, and, without opening it, put it with the good rouleaux in the middle of the table, where the bank is kept. The old gambler, without being disconcerted, staked another. He won, and withdrew the good rouleau given him, leaving the counterfeit one on the table, at the same time calling out, "I stake ten louis out of the rouleau." The cards were drawn; he won: the banker, to pay him the ten louis, took a rouleau from the bank. Chance willed that he lighted on the leaden rouleau. He endeavoured to break it open by striking it on the table: the rouleau withstood his efforts. The gambler, without deranging his features, then said to the banker; "Mind you don't break it." The banker, disconcerted, tore the paper, and, on opening it, found it to contain nothing but lead. There being no positive proof against the gambler, he was permitted to retire, and his only punishment was to be in future excluded from this gaming-house. But he had the consolation of knowing that ninety-nine others would be open to him. However, this and other impostures have led to a regulation, that, in all these houses, the value of every stake should be apparent to the eye, and openly exposed on the table.

From what I have said you might infer that trente-et-un (or rouge et noir) is the most fashionable game played here; but, though this is the case, it is not the only one in high vogue. Many others, equally pernicious, are pursued at the same time, such as la roulette, passe-dix, and biribi, at which cheats and sharpers can, more at their ease, execute their feats of dexterity and schemes of plunder. Women frequent the gaming-tables as well as the men, and often pledge their last shift to make up a stake. It is shocking to contemplate a young female gamester, the natural beauty of whose countenance is distorted into deformity by a succession of agonizing passions. Yet so distressing an object is no uncommon thing in Paris.

You may, perhaps, be curious to know what are these games, of trente-et-un, biribi, passe-dix, and la roulette. Never having played at any of them, such a description as I might pretend to give, could at best be but imperfect. For which, reason I shall not engage in the attempt.

It is confidently affirmed that in the principal towns of France, namely, Bordeaux, Lyons, Marseilles, Rouen, &c. the rage for play is no less prevalent than in the capital, where gaming-houses daily increase in number.[1] They are now established in every quarter in Paris, even the poorest, and there are some where the lowest of the populace can indulge in a penchant for gaming, as the stake is proportioned to their means. This is the ruin of every class of inhabitants and of foreigners; so much so, that suicides here increase in exact proportion to the increase of gaming-houses.

Is it not astonishing that the government should suffer, still more promote the existence of an evil so pernicious in every point of view? From the present state of the French finances, it would, notwithstanding, appear that every consideration, however powerful, must yield to the want of money required for defraying the expenses of the department of the Police.

Minima de malis was the excuse of the old government of France for promoting gaming. "From the crowd of dissipated characters of every description, accumulated in great cities," said its partisans, "governments find themselves compelled to tolerate certain abuses, in order to avoid evils of greater magnitude. They are forced to compound with the passions which they are unable to destroy; and it is better that men should be professed gamblers than usurers, swindlers, and thieves." Such was the reasoning employed in behalf of the establishment of the Académies de jeu, which existed prior to the revolution. Such is the reasoning reproduced, at the present day, in favour of the Maisons de jeu; but, when I reflect on all the horrors occasioned by gaming, I most ardently wish that every argument in favour of so destructive a vice, may be combated by a pen like that of Rousseau, which, Sir William Jones says, "had the property of spreading light before it on the darkest objects, as if he had written with phosphorus on the walls of a cavern."

[Footnote 1: During the Carnival of the present year (1803) the masked balls at the grand French Opera were quite deserted, in consequence of a new gaming-house, established solely for foreigners, having, by the payment of considerable sums to the government, obtained permission to give masked balls. These balls were all the rage. There was one every Tuesday, and the employment of the whole week was to procure cards of invitation; for persons were admitted by invitation only, no money being taken. The rooms, though spacious, were warm and comfortable; the company, tolerably good, and extremely numerous, but chiefly composed of foreigners. Treute-et-un, biribi, pharaon, creps, and other fashionable games were played, so that the speculators could very well afford to give all sorts of refreshments, and an elegant supper gratis.]

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Letter LXXIV

Paris, March 1, 1802.

Of all the institutions subsisting here before the revolution, that which has experienced the greatest enlargement is the

MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY.

This establishment, formerly called Le Jardin du Roi, and now more commonly known by the name of Le Jardin des Plantes, received its present denomination by a decree of the National Convention, dated the 10th of June 1793. It is situated on the south bank of the Seine, nearly facing the Arsenal, and consists of a botanical garden, a collection of natural history, a library of works relating to that science, an amphitheatre for the lectures, and a ménagerie of living animals.

Originally, it was nothing more than a garden for medicinal plants, formed under that title, in 1626, by GUY DE LA BROSSE, principal physician to Lewis XIII, who sanctioned the establishment by letters patent. The king's physicians were almost always intendants of this garden till the year 1739, when it was placed under the direction of BUFFON. Before his time, the cabinet was trifling. It consisted only of some curiosities collected by GEOFFROY, and a few shells which had belonged to TOURNEFORT; but, through the zeal of BUFFON, and the care of his co-operator DAUBENTON, it became a general dépôt of natural history, and its riches had increased still more than its utility. On the breaking out of the revolution, it had been protected through that sort of respect which the rudest men have for the productions of nature, whence they either receive or expect relief for their sufferings. It had even been constantly defended by the revolutionary administration, under whose control and dependence it was placed. Regarding it, in some measure, as their private property, their pride was interested in its preservation; and had any attempt been made to injure it, they would infallibly have caused an insurrection among the inhabitants of the surrounding faubourg. These singular circumstances, joined to the good understanding prevailing among the professors, had maintained this fine establishment in a state, if not increasing, at least stationary. On the revival of order, ideas were entertained of giving to it an extension which had already been projected and decreed, even during the reign of terror.

The botanical garden was enlarged; the extent of the ground intended for the establishment was doubled; a ménagerie was formed; new hot-houses and new galleries were constructed; the addition of new professors was confirmed, and all the necessary disbursements were made with magnificence. Thus, in the same place where every production of nature was assembled, natural history was for the first time taught in its aggregate; and these courses of lectures, become celebrated by the brilliancy of the facts illustrated in them, the number of pupils who frequent them, and the great works of which they have been the cause or the motive, have rendered the MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY one of the first establishments of instruction existing in Europe.

Formerly, there were but three professors attached to this establishment. At present, there are no less than thirteen, who each give a course of forty lectures. The courses of zoology and mineralogy take place in the halls of the cabinet containing the collections corresponding to each of those sciences. The courses of botany, anatomy, and chemistry are delivered in the great amphitheatre, and that of natural iconography in the library. The days and hours of the lectures are announced every year by particular advertisements.

The establishment is administered, under the authority of the Minister of the Interior, by the professors, who choose, annually, from among themselves, a director. At present, that situation is held by FOURCROY. Although this celebrated professor, in his lectures on chemistry, must principally attach himself to minerals, the particular object of chemical inquiry, he is far from neglecting vegetable and animal substances, the analysis of which will, in time, spread great light on organic bodies. The most recent discoveries on the exact constitution of bodies are made known in the course of these lectures, and a series of experiments, calculated for elucidating the demonstrations, takes place under the eyes of the auditors.

No one possesses more than FOURCROY the rare talent of classing well his subjects, of presenting facts in a striking point of view, and of connecting them by a succession of ideas extremely rapid, and expressed in a voice whose melody gives an additional charm to eloquence. The pleasure of hearing him is peculiarly gratifying; and, indeed, when he delivers a lecture, the amphitheatre, spacious as it is, is much too small to contain the crowd of auditors. Then, the young pupils are seen with their eyes stedfastly fixed on their master, catching his word with avidity, and fearing to lose one of them; thus paying by their attention the most flattering tribute to the astonishing facility of this orator of science, from whose lips naturally flow, as from a spring, the most just and most select expressions. Frequently too, carried away by the torrent of his eloquence, they forget what they have just heard, to think only of what he is saying. FOURCROY speaks in this manner for upwards of two hours, without any interruption, and, what is more, without tiring either his auditors or himself. He writes with no less facility than he speaks. This is proved by the great number of works which he has published. But in his writings, his style is more calm, more smooth than that of his lectures.

Each professor superintends and arranges the part of the collections corresponding to the science which he is charged to teach. For this purpose, there are also assistant naturalists, whose employment is to prepare the various articles of natural history. The keeper of the cabinet, under the authority of the director, takes all the measures necessary for the preservation of the collections. The principal ones are:

1. The cabinet of natural history, containing the animal kingdom, divided into its classes; the mineral kingdom; the fossils, woods, fruits, and other vegetable productions, together with the herbals. This cabinet, which occupies the buildings on the right, on entering from the street, is open to students on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays, from eleven o'clock till two, and to the public in general every Tuesday and Friday in the afternoon.

2. The library, chiefly composed of works relating to natural history, contains, among other valuable articles, an immense collection of animals and plants, painted on vellum. Three painters are charged to continue this collection under the superintendance of the professors. The library is open to the public every day from eleven o'clock to two.

3. The cabinet of anatomy, containing the preparations relative to the human race and to animals. It is situated in a separate building, and for the present open to students only.

4. The botanical school, containing the plants growing in the open ground, and the numerous hot-houses in which are cultivated those peculiar to warm countries.

5. The ménagerie of foreign animals. At the present moment, they are dispersed in various parts of the garden; but they are shortly to be assembled in a spacious and agreeable place.

6. The chemical laboratory and the collection of chemical productions.

To these may be added a laboratory for the preparation of objects of natural history, and another for that of objects of anatomy.

Notwithstanding the improved state to which BUFFON had brought this establishment, yet, through the united care of the several scientific men who have since had the direction of it, the constant attention bestowed on it by the government, and even by the conquests of the French armies, its riches have been so much increased, that its collection of natural history may at this day be considered as the finest in being. The department of the minerals and that of the quadrupeds are nearly complete; that of the birds is one of the most considerable and the handsomest known; and the other classes, without answering yet the idea which a naturalist might conceive of thenm, are, nevertheless, superior to what other countries have to offer.

Among the curious or scarce articles in this Museum, the following claim particular notice:

In the class of quadrupeds, adult individuals, stuffed, such as the camelopard, the hippopotamus, the single-horned rhinoceros, the Madagascar squirrel, the Senegal lemur, two varieties of the oran-outang, the proboscis-monkey, different specimens of the indri, some new species of bats and opossums, the Batavian kangaroo, and several antelopes, ant-eaters, &c.

In the class of birds, a great number of new or rare species, and among those remarkable either for size or beauty, are the golden vulture, the great American eagle, the Impey peacock, the Ju[<blot>] pheasant or argus, the plantain-eater, &c.

Among the reptiles, the crocodile of the Ganges, the fimbriated tortoise of Cayenne, &c.

Among the shells, the glass patella, and a number of valuable, scarce, or new species.

The collection of insects has just been completed through the assiduity of the estimable LAMARCK, the professor who has charge of that department.

In the mineral kingdom, independently of the numerous and select choice of all the specimens, are to be remarked as objects of particular curiosity, the petrifactions of crocodiles' bones found in the mountain of St. Pierre at Maëstricht, and the collection of impressions of fishes from Mount Bolca, near Verona.

At the present moment, the ménagerie contains a female elephant only, the male having died since my arrival in Paris, three dromedaries, two camels, five lions, male and female, a white bear, a brown bear, a mangousta, a civet, an alligator, an ostrich, and several other scarce and curious animals, the number and variety of which receive frequent additions. In other parts of the garden are inclosures for land and sea fowls, as well as ponds for fishes.

The denomination of Jardin des Plantes is very appropriate to this garden, as it furnishes to all the botanical establishments throughout France seeds of trees and plants useful to the p[<blot>]ess of agriculture and of the arts; and hence the indigent poor are supplied with such medicinal plants as are proper for the cure or relief of their complaints.

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Letter LXXV

Paris, March 3, 1802.

It has been repeatedly observed that civilized nations adhere to their ancient customs for no other reason than because they are ancient. The French have, above all, a most decided partiality for those which afford them opportunities of amusement. It must therefore have been a subject of no small regret to them, on the annual return of those periods, to find the government taking every measure for the suppression of old habits. For some years since the revolution, all disguises and masquerades were strictly prohibited; but, though the executive power forbade pasteboard masks, its authority could not extend to those mental disguises which have been occasionally worn by many leading political characters in this country. No sooner was the prohibition against masquerading removed, than the Parisians gave full scope to the indulgence of their inclination; and this year was revived, in all its glory, the celebration of

THE CARNIVAL.

Yesterday was the conclusion of that mirthful period, during which Folly seemed to have taken possession of all the inhabitants of this populous city. Every thing that gaiety, whim, humour, and eccentricity could invent, was put in practice to render it a sort of continued jubilee. From morn to night, the concourse of masks of every description was great beyond any former example; but still greater was the concourse of spectators. All the principal streets and public gardens were thronged by singular characters, in appropriate dresses, moving about in small detached parties or in numerous close bodies, on foot, on horseback, or in carriages. The Boulevards, the Rue de la Loi, and the Rue St. Honoré, exhibited long processions of masks and grotesque figures, crowded both in the inside and on the outside of vehicles of all sorts, from a fiacre to a German waggon, drawn by two, four, six, and eight horses; while the Palais Royal, the Tuileries, the Place de la Concorde, and the Champs Elysées were filled with pedestrian wits, amusing the surrounding multitude by the liveliness of their sallies and the smartness of their repartee. Here S[<blot>]pins, Scaramouches, Punchinellos, Pierrots, Harlequins, and Columbines, together with nuns, friars, abbés, bishops, and marquis in caricature, enlivened the scene: there, sultans, sultanas, janissaries, mamlûks, Turks, Spaniards, and Indians, in stately pride, attracted attention. On one side, a Mars and Venus, an Apollo and Daphne, figured under the attributes of heathen mythology: on another, more than one Adam and Eve recalled to mind the origin of the creation.

To the eye of an untravelled Englishman, the novelty of this sight must have been a source of no small entertainment. If he was of a reflecting mind, however, it must have given rise to a variety of observations, and some of them of a rather serious nature. In admiring the order and decency which reigned amidst so much mirth and humour, he must have been desirous to appreciate the influence of political events on the character of this people. In a word, he must have been anxious to ascertain how far the return of our Gallic neighbours to their ancient habits, announces a return to their ancient institutions.

It is well known that the Carnival of modern times is an imitation of the Saturnalia of the ancients, and that the celebration of those festivals was remarkable for the liberty which universally prevailed; slaves being, at that period, permitted to ridicule their masters, and speak with freedom on every subject. During the last years of the French monarchy, the Parisians neglected not to avail themselves of this privilege. When all classes were confounded, at the time of the Carnival, the most elevated became exposed to the lash of the lowest; and, under the mask of satire, the abuses which had crept into religious societies, and the corruption which prevailed in every department of the State, escaped not their bold censure. From a consciousness, no doubt, of their own weakness, the different governments that have ruled over France since the revolution, dreaded the renewal of scenes in which their tottering authority might be overthrown; but such an apprehension cannot have been entertained by the present government, as manifestly appears from the almost unlimited license which has reigned during the late Carnival. Notwithstanding which, it is worthy of remark that no satirical disguises were met with, no shafts of ridicule were aimed at the constituted authorities, no invective was uttered against such and such an opinion, no abuse was levelled against this or that party. Censure and malice either slept or durst not shew themselves, though freedom of expression seemed to be under no restraint.

Formerly, when the people appeared indifferent to the motley amusements of the Carnival, and little disposed to mix in them, either as actors or spectators, it was not uncommon for the government to pay for some masquerading. The mouchards and underlings of the police were habited as grotesque characters, calculated to excite curiosity, and promote mirth. They then spread themselves, to the number of two or three thousand, over different parts of the town, and gave to the streets of Paris a false colouring of joy and gladness; for the greater the misery of the people, the more was it thought necessary to exhibit an outward representation of public felicity. But these political impostures, having been seen through, at length failed in their effect, and were nearly relinquished before the revolution. At that time, nothing diverted the populace so much as attrapes or bites; and every thing that engendered gross and filthy ideas was sure to please. Pieces of money, heated purposely, were scattered on the pavement, in order that persons, who attempted to pick them up, might burn their fingers. Every sort of bite was practised; but the greatest attraction and acme of delight consisted of chianlits, that is, persons masked, walking about, apparently, in their shirt, the tail of which was besmeared with mustard.

At the present day, these coarse and disgusting jokes are evidently laid aside, as some of a more rational kind are exhibited; such as the nun, partly concealed in a truss of straw, and strapped on the catering friar's back; the effect of the galvanic fluid; and many others too numerous to mention. No factitious mirth was this year displayed; it was all natural; and if it did not add to the small sum of happiness of the distressed part of the Parisian community, it must, for a while at least, have made them forget their wretchedness. With few exceptions, every one seemed employed in laughing or in exciting laughter. Many of the characters assumed were such as afforded an opportunity of displaying a particular species of wit or humour; but the dress of some of the masquerading parties, being an excellent imitation of the rich costumes of Asia, must have been extremely expensive.

To conclude, the masked balls at the Opera, on the last days of the Carnival, were numerously attended. Very few characters were here attempted, and those were but faintly supported. Adventures are the principal object of the frequenters of these balls, and I have reason to think that the persons who went in quest of them were not disappointed. In short, though I have often passed the Carnival in Paris, I never witnessed one that went off with greater éclat. As the Turkish Spy observes, a small quantity of ashes, dropped, the day after its conclusion, on the head of these people in disguise, cools their frenzy. From being mad and foolish, they become calm and rational.

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Letter LXXVI

Paris, March 5, 1802.

As I foresee that my private affairs will, probably, require my presence in England sooner than I expected, I hasten to give you an idea of the principal public edifices which I have not, yet noticed. One of these is the Luxembourg Palace, now called the

PALAIS DU SÉNAT CONSERVATEUR.

Mary of Medicis, relict of Henry IV, having purchased of the Duke of Luxembourg his hotel and its dependencies, erected on their site this palace. It was built in 1616, under the direction of JACQUES DE BROSSE, on the plan of the Pitti palace at Florence.

Next to the Louvre, the Luxembourg is the most spacious palace in Paris. It is particularly distinguished for its bold character, its regularity, and the beauty of its proportions. The whole façade is ornamented with coupled pilasters: on the ground-floor, the Tuscan order is employed, and above, the Doric, with alternate rustics. In the four pavilions, placed at the angles of the principal pile, the Ionic has been added to the other two orders, because they are more elevated than the rest of the buildings. Towards the Rue de Tournon, the two pavilions communicate by a handsome terrace, in the middle of which is a circular saloon, surmounted by a dome of the most elegant proportion. Beneath this dome is the principal entrance. The court is spacious, and on each side of it are covered arches which form galleries on the ground-floor and in front of the upper story.

The twenty-four pictures which Mary of Medicis had caused to be painted by the celebrated RUBENS, for the gallery of the Luxembourg, had been removed from it some years before the revolution. At that time even, they were intended for enriching the Museum of the Louvre. Four of them are now exhibited there in the Great Gallery. They are allegorical; with the other twenty, they represent the prosperous part of the history of that queen, and form a striking contrast to the adversity she afterwards experienced through the persecution of Cardinal Richelieu.

To gratify his revenge, he ordered all the furniture, &c. belonging to Mary of Medicis to be sold, together with the statues which then decorated the courts and garden of the Luxembourg, and pursued with inveteracy the unfortunate queen who had erected this magnificent edifice. Being exiled from France in 1631, she wandered for a long time in Flanders, and also in England, till the implacable cardinal prevailed on Charles I, to command her to quit the kingdom. In 1642, she took refuge at Cologne, and, at the age of 68, there died in a garret, almost through hunger and distress.

Before the revolution, this palace belonged to MONSIEUR, next brother to Lewis XVI. It has since been occupied by the Directory, each of whose members here had apartments. No material change has yet been made in it; nor does any thing announce that the partial alterations intended, either in its exterior or interior, will speedily be completed.

"----Pendent opera interrupta minæque, &c."

At the present day, the Luxembourg is appropriated to the Conservative Senate, whose name it has taken, and who here hold their sittings in a hall, fitted up in a style of magnificence still superior to that of the Legislative Body. But the sittings of the former are not public like those of the latter; and as I had no more than a peep at their fine hall, I cannot enter into a description of its beauties.

However, I took a view of their garden, in which I had formerly passed many a pleasant hour. Here, workmen are employed in making considerable improvements. It was before very irregular, particularly towards the south, where the view from the palace was partly concealed by the buildings of the monastery of the Carthusians. By degrees, these irregularities are made to disappear, and this garden will shortly be laid out in such a manner as to correspond better with the majesty of the palace, and display its architecture to greater advantage. Alleys of trees, which were decayed from age, have been cut down, and replaced by young plants of thriving growth. In front of the south façade is to be a tasteful parterre, with an oblong piece of water in its centre. Beyond the garden is a large piece of ground formerly belonging to the Carthusian monastery, which is now nearly demolished; this ground is to be converted into a national nursery for all sorts of valuable fruit-trees. Being contiguous to the garden of the Senate, with which it communicates, it will furnish a very extensive promenade, and consequently add to the agreeableness of the place.

The present Minister of the Interior, CHAPTAL, who cultivates the arts and sciences with no less zeal than success, purposes to make here essays on the culture of vine-plants of every species, in order to obtain comparative results, which will throw a new light on that branch of rural economy.

A great number of vases and statues are placed in the garden of the Senate. Many of these works are indifferently executed, though a few of them are in a good style. Certainly, a more judicious and more decorous choice ought to have been made. It was not necessary to excite regret in the mind of the moralist, by placing under the eyes of the public figures of both sexes which are repugnant to modesty.

If it be really meant to attempt to mend the loose morals of the nation, why are nudities, which may be considered as the leaven of corruption, exposed thus in this and other national gardens in Paris?

* * * * *

March 5, in continuation.

St. Foix, in his "Essais historiques sur Paris" speaking of the Bastille, says, "it is a castle, which, without being strong, is one of the most formidable in Europe." In their arduous struggle for liberty, the French have scarcely left a vestige of this dread abode, in which have been immured so many victims of political vengeance. I will not pretend to affirm that such is the description of prisoners now confined in

LE TEMPLE.

But when the liberty of individuals lies at the mercy of arbitrary power, every one has a right to draw his own inference.

This edifice takes its name from the Templars, whose chief residence it was till they were annihilated in 1313. Philip the Fair and Clement V contrived, under various absurd pretences, to massacre and burn the greater part of the knights of this order. The knights of St. John of Jerusalem were put in possession of all the property of the Templars, except such part as the king of France and the Pope thought fit to share between them. The Temple then became the provincial house of the Grand Priory of France.

The Grand Priory consisted of the inclosure within the walls of the Temple, where stood a palace for the Grand Prior, a church, and several houses inhabited by shopkeepers and mechanics; but, with the considerable domains annexed to it, this post, before the revolution, yielded to the eldest son of the Count d'Artois, as Grand Prior, an annual revenue of 200,000 livres. The inclosure was at that time a place of refuge for debtors, where they enjoyed the privilege of freedom from arrest.

The palace was erected by JACQUES SOUVRÉ, Grand Prior of France. Near it, is a large Gothic tower of a square form, flanked by four round turrets of great elevation, built by HUBERT, treasurer to the Templars, who died in 1222.

It was in this building, which was considered as one of the most solid in France, that Lewis XVI was confined from the middle of September 1792 to the day of his execution. From the 13th of August till that period, the royal family had occupied the part of the palace which has been preserved. This tower, when it had been entirely insulated and surrounded by a ditch, was inclosed by a high wall, which also included part of the garden. The casements were provided with strong iron bars, and masked by those shutters, called, I believe, trunk-lights. As for the life which the unhappy monarch led in this prison, a detailed narrative of it has been published in England, by Cléry, his faithful valet-de-chambre.

I have not been very anxious to approach the Temple, because I concluded that, if fame was not a liar, there was no probability of my having an opportunity of seeing any part of it, except the outer wall. The result was a confirmation of my opinion. Who are its occupiers? What is their number? What are their crimes? These are questions which naturally intrude themselves on the mind, when one surveys the turrets of this new Bastille--for, whether a place of confinement for state-prisoners be called La Bastille or Le Temple, nevertheless it is a state-prison, and reminds one of slavery, which, as Sterne says, is, in any disguise, a bitter draught; and though thousands, in all ages, have been made to drink of it, still it is not, on that account, less bitter.

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Letter LXXVII

Paris, March 8, 1802.

Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to be always able to answer your inquiries without hesitation. Considering the round of amusements in which I live, I flatter myself you will readily admit that it requires no small share of good-will and perseverance to devote so much time to scribbling for your entertainment. As for information, you will, on your arrival in Paris, know how much or how little you have derived from the perusal of my letters. You will then have it in your power to compare and judge. With the originals before you, you cannot be at a loss to determine how far the sketches resemble them.

Some of your inquiries have been already answered in my former letters. Among the number, however, you will find no reply on the subject of the

PRESENT STATE OF THE FRENCH PRESS.

This question being of a nature no less delicate than that concerning the police, you cannot but commend my discretion in adopting a similar method to gratify your curiosity; that is, to refer you to the intelligent author whom I quoted on the former occasion. If common report speaks the truth--Sit mihi fas audita loqui?--the press here is now in much the same state in which it was before the revolution. I shall therefore borrow again the language of MERCIER, who is a famous dreamer, inasmuch as many of his dreams have been realized: yet, with all his foresight and penetration, I question whether he ever dreamt that his picture of the French press, drawn in the interval between the years 1781 and 1788, would still be, in some respects, a true one at the beginning of the year 1802. But, as Boileau shrewdly remarks,

"Le vrai peut quelquefois n'être pas vraisemblable."

"The enemies of books," says our author, "are the enemies of, knowledge, and consequently of mankind. The shackles with which the press is loaded, are an incitement for setting them at defiance. If we were to enjoy a decent liberty, we should no longer have recourse to licentiousness. There are political evils which the liberty of the press prevents, and this is already a great benefit. The interior police of States requires to be enlightened by disinterested writings. There is no one but the philosopher, satisfied with the esteem alone of his fellow-citizens, that can raise himself above the clouds formed by personal interest, and set forth the abuses of insidious custom. In short, the liberty of the press will always be the measure of civil liberty; and it is a species of thermometer, which shews, at one glance, what a people have lost or gained.

"If we adopt this maxim, we are every day losing; for every day the press is more restricted.

"Suffer people to think and speak; the public will judge: they will even find means to correct authors. The surest method to purify the press, is to render it free: obstacles irritate it: prohibitions and difficulties engender the pamphlets complained of.

"Could despotism kill thought in its sanctuary, and prevent us from communicating the essence of our ideas to the mind of our fellow-creatures, it would do so. But not being able quite to pluck out the philosopher's tongue, and cut off his hands, it establishes an inquisition, peoples the frontiers with searchers, spreads satellites, and opens every package, in order to interrupt the infallible progress of morality and truth. Useless and puerile effort! Vain attack on the natural right of general society, and on the patriotic rights of a particular one! Reason, from day to day, strikes nations with a greater lustre, and will at last shine unclouded. It answers no purpose to fear or persecute genius: nothing will extinguish in its hands the torch of truth: the decree which its mouth pronounces, will be repeated by all posterity against the unjust man. He wished to snatch from his fellow-creatures the most noble of all privileges, that of thinking, which is inseparable from that of existing: he will have manifested his weakness and folly; and he will merit the twofold reproach of tyranny and impotence.

"When a very flat, very atrocious, and very calumniating libel appears under a fellow's coat, 'tis a contest who shall have it first. People pay an exorbitant price for it; the hawker who cannot read, and who wishes only to get bread for his poor family, is apprehended, and sent to prison, where he shifts for himself as well as he can.

"The more the libel is prohibited, the more eager we are for it. When we have read it, and we see that nothing compensates for its mean temerity, we are ashamed to have sought after it. We scarcely dare say, we have read it: 'tis the scum of low literature, and what is there without its scum?

"Contempt would be the surest weapon against those miserable productions which are equally destitute of truth and talent.

"When will men in power know how to disdain equally the interested encomiums of intriguing flatterers and the satires produced by hunger?

"Besides, those who sit in the first boxes must always expect some shafts levelled at them by those who are in the pit; this becomes almost inevitable. They must needs pay for their more commodious place: at least we attribute to those who rule over us more enjoyments: they have some which they will avow, solely with a view to raise themselves above the multitude. The human heart is naturally envious. Let men in power then forgive or dissemble seasonably: satire will fall to the ground; it is by shewing themselves impassible, that they will disarm ardent malignity.

"Nevertheless, there is a kind of odious libel, which, having every characteristic of calumny, ought to be repressed. This is commonly nothing more than the fruit of anonymous and envenomed revenge: for what are the secret intrigues of courts to any man of letters? He will know time enough that which will suit the pen of history.

"A libeller should be punished, as every thing violent ought to be. But the parties interested should abstain from pronouncing; for where then would be the proportion between the punishment and the crime?

"I apply not the name of libels to those atrocious and gratuitous accusations against the private life of persons in power or individuals unconnected with the government. Such injurious and unmeaning shafts are an attack on honour: their authors should be punished.

"The police detected and apprehended one of its inspectors, who, being charged to discover those libels, proposed the composition of similar ones to some half-starved authors. After having laid for them this infernal snare for the gain of a little money, he informed against them, and sold them to the government.

"These miscreants, blinded by the eager thirst of a little gold, divert themselves with the uneasiness of the government, and the more they see it in the trances of apprehension, the more they delight in magnifying the danger, and doubling its alarms.

"Liberty has rendered the English government insensible to libels. Disdain is certain, before the work is commenced. If the satire is ingenious, people laugh at it, without believing it; if it is flat, they despise it.

"Why cannot the French government partly adopt this indifference? A contempt, more marked, for those vile and unknown pens that endeavour to wound the sensibility of pride, would disgust the readers of the flat and lying satires after which they are so eager, only because they imagine that the government is really offended by them.

"It is to be observed that the productions that flatter more or less public malignity, spread in fugitive sparks a central fire, which, if compressed, would, perhaps, produce an explosion.

"Magistrates have not yet been seen disdaining those obscure shafts, rendering themselves invulnerable from the openness of their proceedings, and considering that praise will be mute, as long as criticism cannot freely raise its voice.

"Let them then punish the flattery by which they are assailed, since they are so much afraid of the libel that always contains some good truths: besides, the public are there to judge the detractor; and no unjust satire ever circulated a fort-night, without being branded with contempt.

"Ministers reciprocally deceive each other when they are attacked in this manner; the one laughs at the storm which has just burst on the other, and promotes secretly what he appears to prosecute openly and with warmth. It would be a curious thing if one could bring to light the good tricks which the votaries of ambition play each other in the road to power and fortune.

"There is nothing now printed in Paris, in the line of politics and history, but satires and falsehoods. Foreigners look down with pity on every thing that emanates from the capital on these matters. Other subjects begin to feel the consequences of this, because the restraint laid on the mind is manifested even in books of simple amusement. The presses of Paris are no longer to serve but for posting-bills, and invitations to funerals and weddings. Almanacks are already a subject too elevated, and the inquisition examines and garbles them.

"When I see a book," says MERCIER, "sanctioned by the government, I would lay a wager, without opening it, that this book contains political falsehoods. The chief magistrate may well say: 'This piece of paper shall be worth a thousand francs;' but he cannot say: 'Let this error become truth,' or, 'let this truth no longer be anything but an error.' He may say it, but he can never compel men's minds to adopt it.

"What is admirable in printing, is that these fine works, which do honour to human genius, are not to be commanded or paid for; on the contrary, it is the natural liberty of a generous mind, which unfolds itself in spite of dangers, and makes a present to human nature, in spite of tyrants. This is what renders the man of letters so commendable, and insures to him the gratitude of future ages.

"O! worthy Englishmen! generous people, strangers to our shameful servitude, carefully preserve among you the liberty of the press: it is the pledge of your freedom. At this day, you alone are the representatives of nearly all mankind; you uphold the dignity of the name of man. The thunderbolts, which strike the pride and insolence of arbitrary power, issue from your happy island. Human reason has found among you an asylum whence she may instruct the world. Your books are not subject to an inquisition; and it would require a long comment to explain to you in what manner permission is at length obtained for a flimsy pamphlet, which no one will read, to be exposed for sale, and remain unsold, on the Quai de Gévres.

"We are so absurd and so little in comparison to you," adds MERCIER, "that you would be at a loss to conceive the excess of our weakness and humiliation."

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Letter LXXVIII

Paris, March 9, 1802.

Among the national establishments in this metropolis, I know of none that have experienced so great an amelioration, since the revolution, as the

HOSPITALS AND OTHER CHARITABLE INSTITUTIONS;

The civil hospitals in Paris now form two distinct classes. The one comprehends the hospitals for the sick: the other, those for the indigent. The former are devoted to the relief of suffering human nature; the latter serve as an asylum to children, to the infirm, and to the aged indigent. All persons who are not ill enough to be admitted of necessity into the hospital the nearest to their residence, are obliged to present themselves to the Bureau Central d'Admissions. Here they are examined, and if there be occasion, they receive a ticket of admission for the hospital where their particular disorder is treated. At the head of the hospitals for the sick stands that so long known by the appellation of the

HÔTEL-DIEU.

Formerly, nothing more horrid could be conceived than the spectacle presented in this asylum for the afflicted. It was rather a charnel-house than an hospital; and the name of the Creator, over the gate, which recalled to mind the principle of all existence, served only to decorate the entrance of the tomb of the living.

The Hôtel-Dieu, which is situated in the Parvis Notre-Dame, Ile du Palais, was founded as far back as the year 660 by St. Landry, for the reception of the sick and maimed of both sexes, without any exception of persons. Jews, Turks, infidels, pagans, protestants, and catholics were alike admitted, without form or recommendation. Yet, though it contained but 1200 beds, and the number of patients very often exceeded 5000, and, on an average, was never less than 2500, till the year 1786, no steps were taken for enlarging the hospital, or providing elsewhere for those who could not be conveniently accommodated in it. The dead were removed from the wards only on visits made at a fixed time; so that it happened not unfrequently that a poor helpless patient was compelled to remain for hours wedged in between two corpses. The air or the neighbourhood was contaminated by the noisome exhalations continually arising from this abode of pestilence, and that which was breathed within the walls of the hospital was so contagious, as to turn a trifling complaint into a dangerous disorder, and a simple wound into a mortification.

In 1785, the attention of the government being called to this serious evil by various memoirs, the Academy of Sciences was directed to investigate the truth of the bold assertions made in these publications. A commission was appointed; but as the revenues of the Hôtel-Dieu were immense, for a long time it was impossible to obtain from the Governors any account of their application. However, the Commissioners, directing their attention to the principal object, reported as follows: "We first compared the Hôtel-Dieu and the Hôpital de la Charité relative to their mortality. In 52 years, the Hôtel-Dieu, out of 1,108,741 patients lost 244,720, which is one out of four and a half. La Charité, where but one dies out of seven and a half, would have lost only 168,700, whence results the frightful picture that the Hôtel-Dieu, in 52 years, has snatched from France 99,044 persons, whose lives would have been saved, had the Hôtel-Dieu been as spacious, in proportion, as La Charité. The loss in these 52 years answers to 1906 deaths per year, and that is nearly the tenth part of the total and annual loss of Paris. The preservation of this hospital in the site it now occupies, and on its present plan, therefore produces the same effect as a sort of plague which constantly desolates the capital."

In consequence of this report, the hospital was enlarged so as to contain about 2000 beds. Since the revolution, the improvements introduced into the interior government of the Hotel-Dieu have been great and rapid. Each patient now has a bed to himself. Those attacked by contagious disorders are transferred to the Hospice St. Louis. Insane persons are no longer admitted; men, thus afflicted, are sent to a special hospital established at Charenton; and women, to the Salpétrière. Nor are any females longer received into the Hôtel-Dieu to lie-in; an hospital having been established for the reception of pregnant women. At the Hôtel-Dieu, every method has been put in practice to promote the circulation of air, and expel the insalubrious miasmata. One of these, I think, well deserves to be adopted in England.

In the French hospitals, one ward at least is now always kept empty. The moment it becomes so by the removal of the patients into another, the walls are whitewashed, and the air is purified by the fumigation with muriatic acid, according to the plan first proposed by GUYTON-MORVEAU. This operation is alternately performed in each ward in succession; that which has been the longest occupied being purified the first, and left empty till it is again wanted.

The number of hospitals in Paris has been considerably augmented. They are all supported by the government, and not, like those in England, by private benefactions. Sick children of both sexes, from the time of suckling to the age of sixteen, are no longer admitted into the different hospitals; but are received into a special hospital, extremely well arranged, and in a fine, airy situation, beyond the Barrière de Sèvres. Two institutions have been formed for the aged, infirm and indigent, who pay, on entrance, a moderate sum. One of these charities is without the Barrière d'Enfer; the other, in the Faubourg St. Martin. In the same faubourg, a Maison de Santé is established, where the sick are treated on paying thirty sous a day.

An hospital for gratuitous vaccination, founded by the Prefect of the department of La Seine, is now open for the continual treatment of the cow-pox, and the distribution of the matter to all parts of France.

In general, the charitable institutions in Paris have also undergone very considerable improvements since the revolution; for instance, the male orphans, admitted, to the number of two thousand, into the asylum formerly called La Pitié, in the Faubourg St. Victor, used to remain idle. They were employed only to follow funeral processions. At present, they are kept at work, and instructed in some useful trade.

A new institution for female orphans has been established in the Faubourg St. Antoine; for, here, the two sexes are not at present received into the same house, whether hospital or other charitable institution. In consequence of which, Paris now contains two receptacles for Incurables, in lieu of the one which formerly existed.

The place of the Hôpital des Enfans-Trouvés is also supplied by an establishment, on a large scale, called the

HOSPICE DE LA MATERNITÉ.

It is divided into two branches, each of which occupies a separate house. The one for foundlings, in the Rue de la Bourbe, is intended for the reception of children abandoned by their parents. Here they are reared, if not sent into the country to be suckled. The other, in the Rue d'Enfer, which may be considered as the General Lying-in Hospital of Paris, is destined for the reception of pregnant women. Upwards of 1500 are here delivered every year.

As formerly, no formality is now required for the admission of new-born infants. In the old Foundling-Hospital, the number annually received exceeded 8000. It is not near so great at present. To those who reflect on the ravages made among the human race by war, during which disease sweeps off many more than are killed in battle, it is a most interesting sight to behold fifty or sixty little foundlings assembled in one ward, where they are carefully fed till they are provided with wet nurses.

I must here correct a mistake into which I have been betrayed, in my letter of the 26th of December, respecting the present destination of

LA SALPÊTRIÈRE.

It is no longer used as a house of correction for dissolute women. Prostitutes, taken up by the police, are now carried to St. Lazare, in the Rue St. Denis. Those in want of medical aid, for disorders incident to their course of life, are not sent to _Bicêtre, but to the ci-devant monastery of the Capucins, in the Rue Caumartin.

At present, the _Salpêtrière forms an hospice for the reception of indigent or infirm old women, and young girls, brought up in the Foundling-Hospital, are placed here to be instructed in needle-work and making lace. Female idiots and mad women are also taken care of in a particular part of this very extensive building.

The Salpêtrière was erected by Lewis XIII, and founded as an hospital, by Lewis XIV, in 1656. The facade has a majestic appearance. Before the revolution, this edifice was said to lodge 6000 souls, and even now, it cannot contain less than 4000. By the Plan of Paris, you will see its situation, to the south-east of the Jardin des Plantes.

I shall also avail myself of the opportunity of correcting another mistake concerning

BICÊTRE.

This place has now the same destination for men that the Salpétrière has for women. There is a particular hospital, lately established, for male venereal patients, in the Rue du Faubourg St. Jacques.

* * * * *

March 9, in continuation.

Previously to the decree of the 19th of August 1792, which suppressed the universities and other scientific institutions, there existed in France Faculties and Colleges of Physicians, as well as Colleges and Commonalities of Surgeons. From one of those unaccountable contradictions of which the revolution affords so many instances, these were also suppressed at a time when they were becoming most necessary for supplying the French armies with medical men. But as soon as the fury of the revolutionary storm began to abate, the re-establishment of Schools of Medicine was one of the first objects that engaged attention.

Till these latter times, Medicine and Surgery, separated from each other, mutually contended for pre-eminence. Each had its forms and particular schools. They seemed to have divided between them suffering human nature, instead of uniting for its relief. On both sides, men of merit despised such useless distinctions; they felt that the curative art ought to comprehend all the knowledge and all the means that can conduce to its success; but these elevated ideas were combated by narrow minds, which, not being capable of embracing general considerations, always attach to details a great importance. The revolution terminated these disputes, by involving both parties in the same misfortunes.

At the time of the re-establishment of Public Instruction, the

Schools of Health, founded at Paris, Montpelier, and Strasburg, on plans digested by men the most enlightened, presented a complete body of instruction relative to every branch of the curative art. Physics and chemistry, which form the basis of that art, were naturally included, and nothing that could contribute to its perfection, in the present state of the sciences, was forgotten. The plan of instruction is fundamentally the same in all these schools; but is more extensive in the principal one, that is, in the

SCHOOL OF MEDICINE OF PARIS.

This very striking monument of modern architecture, situated in the Faubourg St. Germain, owes its erection to the partiality which Lewis XV entertained for the art of surgery. That monarch preferred it to every science; he was fond of conversing on it, and took such an interest in it, that, in order to promote its improvement, he built this handsome edifice for the ci-devant Académie et Écoles de Chirurgie. The architect was GONDOUIN.

The façade, extending nearly two hundred feet, presents a peristyle of the Ionic order. The interior distribution of this building corresponds with the elegance of its exterior. It contains a valuable library, a cabinet of anatomical preparations (among which is a skeleton that presents a rare instance of a general anchilosis) and imitations in wax, a chemical laboratory, a vast collection of chirurgical and philosophical instruments, and a magnificent amphitheatre, the first stone of which was laid by Lewis XVI in December 1774. This lecture-room will conveniently hold twelve hundred persons, and its form and arrangement are such, that a pupil seated the farthest from the subject under dissection, can see all the demonstrations of the Professor as well as if placed near the marble table.

In one wing of the building is an Hospice de Perfectionnement, formerly instituted for the reception of rare chirurgical cases only; but into which other patients, labouring under internal disorders of an extraordinary nature, are now likewise admitted.

To this school are attached from twenty to thirty Professors, who lecture on anatomy and physiology; medical chemistry and pharmacy; medical physics; pathology, internal and external; natural history, as connected with medicine, and botany; operative medicine; external and internal clinical cases, and the modern improvements in treating them; midwifery, and all disorders incident to women; the physical education of children; the history of medicine, and its legitimate practice; the doctrine of Hippocrates, and history of rare cases; medical bibliography, and the demonstration of the use of drugs and chirurgical instruments. There are also a chief anatomist, a painter, and a modeller in wax. The lectures are open to the public as well as to the students, who are said to exceed a thousand. Besides this part of instruction, the pupils practise anatomical, chirurgical, and chemical operations. To the number of one hundred and twenty, they form a practical school, divided into three classes, and are successively distributed into three of the clinical hospitals in Paris. At an annual competition, prizes are awarded to the greatest proficients.

Although this school is so numerously attended, and has produced several skilful professors, celebrated anatomists, and a multitude of distinguished pupils, yet it appears that, since there has been no regular admission for physicians and surgeons, the most complete anarchy has prevailed in the medical line. The towns and villages in France are overrun by quacks, who deal out poison and death with an audacity which the existing laws are unable to check. Under the title of Officiers de Santé, they impose on the credulity of the public, in the most dangerous manner, by the distribution of nostrums for every disorder. To put a stop to this alarming evil, it is in contemplation to promulgate a law, enacting that no one shall in future practise in France as a physician or surgeon, without having been examined and received into one of the six Special Schools of Medicine, or as an officer of health, without having studied a certain number of years, walked the hospitals, and also passed a regular examination.[1]

At the medical school of Paris are held the meetings of the

SOCIETY OF MEDICINE.

It was instituted for the purpose of continuing the labours of the ci-devant Royal Society of Medicine and the old Academy of Surgery. With this view, it is charged to keep up a correspondence, not only with the medical men resident within the limits of the Republic, but also with those of foreign countries, respecting every object that can tend to the progress of the art of healing.

* * * * *

As far back as the year 1777, there existed in Paris a college of Pharmacy. The apothecaries, composing this college, had formed, at their own expense, an establishment for instruction relative to the curative art, in their laboratory and garden in the Rue de l'Arbalêtre. Since the revolution, the acknowledged utility of this institution has caused it to be maintained under the title of the

GRATUITOUS SCHOOL OF PHARMACY.

Here are delivered gratis, by two professors in each department, public lectures on pharmaceutic chemistry, pharmaceutic natural history, and botany. When the courses are finished, prizes are annually distributed to the pupils who distinguish themselves most by their talents and knowledge.

In the year 1796, the apothecaries of Paris, animated by a desire to render this establishment still more useful, formed themselves into a society, by the name of the

FREE SOCIETY OF APOTHECARIES.

Its object is to contribute to the progress of the arts and sciences, particularly pharmacy, chemistry, botany, and natural history. This society admits, as free and corresponding associates, savans of all the other departments of France and of foreign countries, who cultivate those sciences and others analogous to them. Some of the most enlightened men in France are to be found among its members.

The advantageous changes made in the teaching of medicine, since the revolution, appear to consist chiefly in the establishment of clinical lectures. The teaching of the sciences, accessory to medicine, partakes more or less advantageously of the great progress made in that of chemistry. It seems that, in general, the students in medicine grant but a very limited confidence to accredited opinions, and that they recur to observation and experience much more than they did formerly. As for the changes which have occurred in the practice of medicine, I think it would be no easy matter to appreciate them with any degree of exactness. Besides, sufficient time has not yet elapsed since the establishment of the new mode of teaching, for them to assume a marked complexion. It is, however, to be observed that, by the death of the celebrated DÉSAULT, Surgery has sustained a loss which is not yet repaired, nor will be perhaps for ages.

[Footnote 1: A law to this effect is now made.]

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Letter LXXIX

Paris, March 12, 1802.

From the account I have given you of the Public Schools here, you will have perceived that, since the revolution, nothing has been neglected which could contribute to the mental improvement of the male part of the rising generation. But as some parents are averse to sending their children to these National Schools, there are now established in Paris a great number of

PRIVATE SEMINARIES FOR YOUTH OF BOTH SEXES.

Several of these are far superior to any that previously existed in France, and are really of a nature to excite admiration, when we consider the cruel divisions which have distracted this country. But it seems that if, for a time, instruction, both public and private, was suspended, no sooner were the French permitted to breathe than a sudden and salutary emulation arose among those who devoted themselves to the important task of conducting these private schools. The great advantage which they appear to me to have over establishments of a similar description in England, is that the scholars are perfectly grounded in whatever they are taught; the want of which, among us, occasions many a youth to forget the greater part of what he has learned long before he has attained the years of manhood.

If several of the schools for boys here are extremely well conducted, some of those for girls appear to be governed with no less care and judgment. In order to be enabled to form an opinion on the present mode of bringing up young girls in France, I have made a point of investigating the subject. I shall, in consequence, endeavour to shew you the contrast which strikes me to have occurred here in

FEMALE EDUCATION.

In France, convents had, at all times, prior to the revolution, enjoyed the exclusive privilege of bringing up young women; and some families had, for a century past, preserved the habit of sending all their daughters to be St. Ursulas, in order to enter afterwards into the world as virtuous wives and tender mothers. The natural result was, that, if the principles of excessive piety which had been communicated to them remained deeply engraved in their heart, they employed the whole day in the duties required by the catholic religion; and the confessor who dictated all these habitual practices, not unfrequently became the director of the temporal concerns of the family, as well as the spiritual. If the young girls, in emerging from the cells of a convent, were disposed to lay aside their religious practices, in order to adopt the customs and pleasures of the world, this sudden transition, from one extreme to the other, made them at once abandon, not only the puerile minutiæ, but also the sacred principles of religion. There was no medium. They either became outrageous devotees, and, neglecting the respectable duties of housewives and mistresses of a family, wrapped themselves up in a great hood, and were incessantly on their knees before the altars of the churches, or, on the other hand, rushed into extravagance and dissipation, and, likewise, deserting a family which claimed their care, dishonoured themselves by the licentiousness of their manners.

At the present time, many women of good abilities and character, deprived of their property by the vicissitudes of the revolution, have established, in Paris and its environs, seminaries, where young girls receive such advice as is most useful to females who are destined to live in the world, and acquirements, which, by employing them agreeably several hours in the day, contribute to the interior happiness of their family, and make them find charms in a domestic life. In short, the superiority of female education in France is decidedly in favour of the present system, whether considered in regard to mental improvement, health, or beauty. With respect to the morals inculcated in these modern French boarding schools, the best answer to all the prejudices might be entertained against them, is that the men, who have married women there educated, find that they prove excellent wives, and that their accomplishments serve only to embellish their virtues.

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Letter LXXX

Paris, March 14, 1802.

I plead guilty to your censure in not having yet furnished you with any remarks on the origin of this capital; but you will recollect that I engaged only to give you a mere sketch; indeed, it would require more time and talent than I can command to present you with a finished picture. I speak of things just as they happen to occur to my mind; and provided my letters bring you acquainted with such objects here as are most deserving of attention, my purpose will be fully accomplished. However, in compliance with your pressing request, I shall now briefly retrace the

PROGRESSIVE AGGRANDISEMENT OF PARIS.

Without hazarding any vague conjectures, I may, I think, safely affirm that Cæsar is the first historian who makes mention of this city. In the seventh book of his Commentaries, that conqueror relates that he sent his lieutenant Labienus towards Lutetia; this was the name given by the Gauls to the capital of the Parisii. It was then entirely contained within that island on the Seine, which, at the present day, is called l'Ile du Palais.

In comparison to the capitals of the other provinces of Gaul, Lutetia was but a sorry village; its houses were small, of a round form, built of wood and earth, and covered with straw and reeds.

After having conquered Lutetia, the Romans embellished it with a palace, surrounded it by walls, and erected, at the head of each of the two bridges leading to it, a fortress, one of which stood on the site of the prison called Le Grand Châtelet; and the other, on that of Le Petit Châtelet. The Yonne, the Marne, and the Oise, being rivers which join the Seine, suggested the idea of establishing a trading company by water, in order to facilitate, by those channels, the circulation of warlike stores and provisions. These merchants were called Nautæ Parisiaci. The Romans also erected, near the left bank of the Seine, a magnificent palace and an aqueduct. This palace was called Thermæ, on account of its tepid baths.

Julian, being charged to defend Gaul against the irruptions of the barbarians, took up his residence in these Thermæ in 360, two years before he was proclaimed emperor, in the square which was in front of this palace. "I was in winter-quarters in my dear Lutetia," says he in his Misopogon. "Thus is named, in Gaul, the little capital of the Parisii."--"It occupies," observes Abbon, "an inconsiderable island, surrounded by walls, the foot of which is bathed by the river. The entrance to it, on each side, is by a wooden bridge."

Towards the middle of the fifth century, this city passed from the dominion of the Romans to that of the Francs. It was besieged by Childeric I. In 508, Clovis declared it the capital of his kingdom. The long stay which that prince made in it, contributed to its embellishment. Charlemagne founded in it a celebrated school. A little time after, another was established in the abbey of St. Germain-des-Prés. In the course of the ninth century, it was besieged and pillaged three times by the Normans.

Philip Augustus surrounded Paris with walls, and comprised in that inclosure a great number of small towns and hamlets in its vicinity. This undertaking occupied twenty years, having been begun in 1190, and finished in 1211. The same king was also the first who caused the streets of this city to be paved. The wars of the English required new fortifications; and, under king John, ditches were dug round the city; and the Bastille, erected. These works were continued during the reigns of Charles V and Charles VI.

Francis I, the restorer of literature and of the arts, neglected nothing that might conduce to the farther embellishment of this capital. He caused several new streets to be made, many Gothic edifices to be pulled down, and was, in France, the first who revived Greek architecture, the remains of which, buried by the hand of time, or mutilated by that of barbarians, being collected and compared at Rome, began to improve the genius of celebrated artists, and, in the sequel, led to the production of masterpieces.

The kings, his successors, executed a part of the projects of that prince, and this extensive city imperceptibly lost its irregular and Gothic aspect. The removal of the houses, which, not long since, encumbered the bridges, and intercepted the current of air, has diffused cheerfulness and salubrity.

You will pardon me, I trust, if I here make a retrograde movement, not to recapitulate the aggrandisement of Paris, but to retrace rapidly the progressive amelioration of the manners of its inhabitants. The latter paved the way to the former.

Under the first kings of France of the third race, justice was administered in a summary way; the king, the count, and the viscount heard the parties, and gave a prompt sentence, or else left the controversy to be decided by a pitched battle, if it was of too intricate a nature. No colleges then existed here; the clergy only keeping schools near the Cathedral of Notre-Dame for those who were intended for holy orders. The nobles piqued themselves on extreme ignorance, and as many of them could not even sign their own name, they dipped their glove in ink, and stamped it on the parchment as their signature. They lived on their estates, and if they were obliged to pass three or four days in town, they affected to appear always in boots, in order that they might not be taken for vassals. Ten men were sufficient for the collection of all the taxes. There were no more than two gates to the city; and under Lewis surnamed le Gros, from his corpulency, the duties at the north gate produced no more than twelve francs a year.

Philip Augustus, being fond of literature, welcomed and protected men of learning. It had appeared to revive under Charlemagne; but the ravages of the Normans occasioned it to sink again into oblivion till the reign of Lewis the Young, father of Philip Augustus. Under the latter, the schools of Paris became celebrated; they were resorted to, not only from the distant provinces, but from foreign countries. The quarter, till lately called l'Université, became peopled; and, in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, was covered by colleges and monasteries. Philip the Fair rendered the Parliament sedentary. He prohibited duelling in civil contentions; and a person might have recourse to a court of justice, without being under the necessity of fighting. Anne de Bretagne, great and majestic in every thing, was desirous of having a court. Ladies who, till then, were born in one castle only to marry and die in another, came to Paris. They were unwilling to leave it, and men followed them thither. All these circumstances increased its inhabitants to a thirtieth part beyond their former number.

The wars of religion under Charles IX and Henry III rendered gold and silver a little more common, by the profanations of the Calvinists, who pillaged the churches, and converted into specie the sacred vases, as well as the shrines and statues of saints. The vast sums of money which the court of Spain lavished in Paris, to support the League, had also diffused a certain degree of affluence among no inconsiderable number of citizens; and it is to be remarked that, under Henry IV, several handsome streets were finished in less than a year.

Henry IV was the first of the kings of France who embellished Paris with regular squares, or open spaces, decorated with the different orders of architecture. After having nearly finished the Pont Neuf, he built the Place Royale, now called Place des Fédérés, and also the Place Dauphine.

Towards the end of the administration of Cardinal Richelieu, there no longer existed in France more than one master; and the petty tyrants in the provinces, who had fortified themselves so long in their castles against the royal authority, were seen to come to court, to solicit the most paltry lodging with all the servility of courtiers, and at the same time erect mansions in town with all the splendour of men inflated by pride and power. At last came the reign of Lewis XIV, and presently Paris knew no limits. Its gates were converted into arcs of triumph, and its ditches, being filled up and planted with trees, became public walks. When one considers the character of that monarch, it should seem that Paris ought to have been more embellished under his reign. In fact, had Lewis XIV expended on Paris one-fourth part of the money which he lavished on Versailles,[1] it would have become the most astonishing city in Europe.

However, its great extent and population, magnificent edifices, celebrated national establishments of learning and science, rich libraries, curious cabinets, where lessons of knowledge and genius present themselves to those who have a taste for them, together with its theatres and other places of public entertainment, have long rendered Paris deserving of the admiration of enlightened nations.

Before the revolution, Paris contained 46 parish churches, and 20 others answering the same purpose, 11 abbeys, and 133 monasteries or convents of men and women, 13 colleges, 15 public seminaries, and 26 hospitals. To these must be added the three royal habitations, the Louvre, the Tuileries, and the Luxembourg, also the Hôtel des Invalides, the Palais Royal, the Palais Bourbon, and a great number of magnificent hotels, inhabited by titled or wealthy persons.

Since the revolution, several of these buildings have been destroyed; almost all the monasteries and convents, together with the churches belonging to them, have been sold as national property, and either demolished for the sake of the materials, or converted to different uses. Fifteen principal churches, besides the Pantheon, the Invalides, Val-de-Grace, the Sorbonne, and a few others, were preserved as national temples, intended for the celebration of decadary fétes, and for a time rendered common to every sort of worship. Most of the old churches were of Gothic architecture, and not much to be commended with respect to art; but several of them were models of boldness, from the lightness of their construction.

The colleges, as I have before observed, are replaced by public schools and private seminaries of every description. The number of the houses in Paris, many of which are from five to eight stories in height, has been estimated at upwards of 80,000. The number of its inhabitants appears to have been over-rated. By an official statement, in which foreigners are not included, it contains no more than 630,000 souls.

During the last year of the republican era, the number of males born in Paris was 9296; and that of females, 9177; making the general total of births 18,473, of which the males, born out of wedlock, amounted to 1792; and the females, to 1852. The number of persons deceased, within the same period, was 10,446 males, and 10,301 females; making together 20,747. The annual decrease in population was consequently 2274 souls. The number of marriages was 3826; and that of divorces, 720; which is nearly 2 out of 11.

The ancient division of Paris consisted of three parts; namely, La Cité, l'Université, and La Ville. La Cite comprised all the Ile du Palais. This is the parent-stock of the capital, whence have extended, like so many branches, the numerous quarters by which it is surrounded. L'Université was bordered by the Seine, the Faubourg St. Bernard, St. Victor, St. Marcel, St. Jacques, and the Faubourg St. Germain. The number of colleges in this quarter, had obtained it the name of Le Pays Latin. La Ville comprehended all the rest of the capital, not included in the suburbs.

At present, Paris is divided into twelve mayoralties (as you will see by the Plan), each of which is presided by a central office of municipal police. The Faubourgs retain their ancient names; but those of many of the streets have been changed in the course of the revolution. The Chaussée d'Antin, which comprises the new streets north of the Boulevard Italien, is now the most fashionable part of the town. The houses here are chiefly inhabited by bankers and persons living in affluence; and apartments in this neighbourhood are considerably dearer than in the Faubourg St. Germain, which, comparatively speaking, is deserted.

I have already described the Porte St. Denis and the Porte St. Martin, which are nothing more than arcs of triumph. In proportion as the limits of the capital became extended, the real gates were removed, but reappeared under the name of barrières. These costly edifices were constructed during the ministry of CALONNE, under the direction of LEDOUX, the architect, who has taken a pleasure in varying their form and character. One represents an observatory; another, a chapel; some have the appearance of rusticated buildings; others, that of temples. Under the old régime too, the farmers-general had inclosed Paris with a high wall, the extent of which has been estimated at upwards of 10,000 toises. This wall displeased the eye of the Parisians, and, when they were out of humour, induced them to murmur loudly. Whence the following jeu de mots:

"Le mur, murant Paris, rend Paris murmurout."

During the revolution, it was by no means uncommon to shut the barrières, in order to serve the purposes of party, and favour the arrest of particular persons. To the number of sixty, they are placed at the principal outlets of the suburbs, and occupied by custom-house officers, whose business is to collect duties, and watch that no contraband goods find their way into the city. Formerly, when every carriage entering Paris was stopped and examined (which is not the case at present), the self-importance of these commis des barrières could be equalled only by their ignorance.

A traveller arriving from Egypt brought with him a mummy. The case being long, he chose not to fasten it on to his post-chaise, but sent it to Paris by water. When it was landed at the barrière, the custom-house officers opened it, and, finding it to contain a black-looking body, decided that this was a man who had been baked in an oven. They took the linen bandages for his burnt shirt, and, after drawing up a procès-verbal in due form, sent the mummy to the Morne, where dead bodies are exposed in order to be owned. When the proprietor reached Paris, he went to the barrière to claim his mummy. The commis listened to him and stared at him with astonishment. He grew angry, and at length broke out into a violent passion; when one of the searchers, in a whisper, advised him to decamp, if he wished to avoid the gallows. The traveller, stupified, was obliged to apply to the Minister of the Police, and, with some difficulty, recovered from the Morne his Egyptian prince or princess, who, after having been preserved 2000 years, was on the point of being buried in a catholic cemetery, instead of figuring in a cabinet of curiosities.

[Footnote 1: The article of lead alone for the water-pipes cost thirty-two millions of livres or £1,333,333 sterling; but

"Rich in her weeping country's spoils, Versailles! May boast a thousand fountains, that can cast The tortur'd waters to the distant heav'ns"--]

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Letter LXXXI

Paris, March 17, 1802.

An object which must infallibly strike the eye of the attentive observer, who has not visited this capital within the last ten years,g is the change in the style of

FRENCH FURNITURE.

This remark may, at first sight, appear trivial; but a second view of the subject will produce reflections on the frivolity of this people, even amidst their intestine commotions, and at the same time shew that they are, in no small degree, indebted to the influence of those events for the taste which is to be distinguished in the new productions of their industry, and, in general, for the progress they have made, not only in the mechanical arts, but also in the sciences of every description. This will appear the more extraordinary, as it should seem natural to presume that the persecution which the protectors of the arts and sciences experienced, in the course of the revolution, was likely to produce quite a contrary effect. But the man of science and the artist, each abandoned to himself, acquired, in that forlorn situation, a knowledge and a taste which very frequently are the result of long study only, seconded by encouragement from the wealthy.

The apartments of the fine ladies, of the rich, of the bankers, and merchants in Paris, and generally speaking, of all those who, from their business and connexions, have most intercourse with the public and with foreigners, are furnished in the modern mode, that is, in the antique taste. Many of the French artists, being destitute of employment, were compelled through necessity to seek it; some entered into the warehouse of the upholsterer to direct the shape and disposition of his hangings; some, into the manufactory of the paper-maker to furnish him with new patterns; and others, into the shop of the cabinet-maker to sell him sketches of antique forms. Had the easels of these artists been occupied by pictures no sooner finished than paid for, the Grecian bed would not have expelled the lit à la Polonaise, in vogue here before the revolution; the Etruscan designs would not have succeeded to the Chinese paper; nor would the curtains with Persian borders have been replaced by that elegant drapery which retraces the pure and simple taste of the people of Attica.

The elegant forms of the modern French secrétaires, commodes, chairs, &c. have also been copied from the Greeks and Romans. The ornaments of these are either bronzed or gilt, and are uncommonly well finished. In general, they represent heads of men, women, and animals, designed after the antique. Caryatides are sometimes introduced, as well as Egyptian attributes; the arms of the chairs being frequently decorated with sphinxes. In short, on entering the residence of a parvenu, you would fancy yourself suddenly transported into the house of a wealthy Athenian; and these new favourites of Fortune can, without crossing the threshold of their own door, study chaste antiquity, and imbibe a taste for other knowledge, connected with it, in which they are but little versed.

Mahogany is the wood employed for making these modern articles of furniture, whose forms are no less varied than elegant; advantages which cause them to be preferred to the ancient. But the latter, though heavy in their construction, are, nevertheless, thought, by some persons, superior to the former in point of solidity and convenience. The old-fashioned bedsteads and chairs are generally of oak, painted or gilt, and are covered with silk or tapestry of different patterns. The ci-devant nobles appear to be greatly attached to them, and preserve them as monuments, which supply the place of the titles and parchments they were forced to burn during the sanguinary periods of the revolution. But this taste is not exclusive; several of the Parisian bourgeois, either from economy, or from a wish to appear to have belonged to that class, shew no less eagerness to possess these spoils of the noblesse, as furniture for their apartments.

While I am speaking of furniture, it naturally occurs to me that I have not yet taken you to visit

LES GOBELINS.

This national manufactory, which is situated in the Faubourg St. Marcel, takes its name from two famous Flemish dyers, who settled in Paris under Francis I. In 1662, COLBERT purchased part of the old premises where the Gobelins had carried on their business, and there opened an establishment under the direction of LE BRUN. It was not confined to the manufacture of tapestry only, but was composed of painters, sculptors, engravers, goldsmiths, watch-makers, lapidaries, and other artists and workmen of almost every description, whose pupils and apprentices here acquired their freedom.

Since the revolution, tapestry alone is manufactured here, on two sorts of looms, distinguished by the denominations of haute and basso lisse, which are fully explained in an interesting Notice, published by the intelligent director, GUILLAUMOT, who, it seems, has introduced into each of these branches several recent improvements.

The art of making tapestry originated in England and Flanders, where the cartoons of RAPHAEL and JULIO ROMANO were coarsely copied. It was gradually improved in France, and is now brought here to the greatest perfection. Indeed, a piece of Gobelin tapestry may be called a picture painted with wool and silk; but its admirable execution produces an illusion so complete, that skilful painters have been seen to lay their hands on this tapestry, to convince themselves that it was not a real painting.

Tapestry is now entirely out of fashion; and, with the exception of a few small fancy-pieces, the productions of this manufactory are intended solely for the decoration of the national palaces and other public buildings. In 1790 the blood-thirsty MARAT strove hard to annihilate this establishment, by exaggerating the expenses of its maintenance. In 1789, their real amount was 144,000 francs; 116 journeymen and 18 apprentices were then employed, and paid in proportion to their merit and to the quantity of work they performed. In 1791, they were divided into classes, and paid by the day. This regulation produces less work, but its execution is more perfect, since no motive of interest induces the workman to neglect his performance. At present, its expenses cannot be so great, as the number of persons employed is less than 100. Should the penury of the finances not allow the means of re-establishing pupils, this manufactory will be extinguished like a lamp for want of oil. Twenty years are necessary to make a good manufacturer of tapestry; those of the first abilities are now nearly 70 years of age, and therefore it seems high time to prepare for them competent successors.

At Chaillot, we shall find another national manufactory, somewhat analogous to the former, and which also claims the attention of the curious observer. From having been fixed in a place originally occupied by a soap-house, it is called

LA SAVONNERIE.

It was established, as far back as 1615, at the instigation of PIERRE DUPONT, who, being forced to quit his native land by the civil commotions arising from the League, went to the Levant. Having seen carpets made without taste or design in that country, he conceived the idea of introducing a manufactory of this kind into France, where it would be susceptible of considerable improvement from the exercise of the arts unknown in Turkey. The project was approved by Henry IV, who first gave DUPONT an establishment in the Louvre, which was afterwards transferred to its present situation.

Like the Gobelins, the national manufactory of the Savonnerie is, and has been, constantly supported by the government, and like it too, contributes to the decoration of the national palaces, &c. Nothing, in the shape of carpets, can answer this purpose better than those manufactured here, the colours of which are extremely brilliant. The close, velvety texture of the manufacture gives a peculiar expression to objects which are copied from nature, such as the hair of animals, the down of fruit, and the lustre of flowers.

From its foundation till the year 1789, this manufactory continued to be under the direction of a contractor, who delivered the carpeting to the government at the rate of 220 francs per square ell. At the revolution, new regulations were established; the workmen were paid by the day, and classed according to their merit. In consequence, though less work is performed, it is executed with greater perfection.

The present government has lately ordered the old patterns, which were overloaded with ornaments and flowers, to be suppressed, and replaced by compositions more simple, more elegant, and infinitely more tasteful. I understand that the workmen are to be put to task-work, under the superintendance of the respectable administrator DUVIVIER, who informs me that the present price of this carpeting amounts to 300 francs per square mètre (circa 3 ft. 3 inc. English measure). In 1789, thirty persons were employed here, at from 30 to 50 sous a day. At present, there are no more than twenty, who daily earn, on an average, 3 francs, and are lodged in the buildings of the manufactory.

Before I lay down my pen, I shall notice a national establishment, equally connected with the subject of this letter; I mean the

MANUFACTORY OF PLATE-GLASS.

Like all the other French manufactories, this has suffered from the revolution and the war; but it has now nearly resumed its former activity, owing to the effects of the peace and the laudable exertions of the government to revive commerce. At this time, it gives employment to about 600 persons.

Before COLBERT founded the present establishment, which is situated in the Rue de Reuilli, Faubourg St. Antoine, the French drew their plate-glass from Venice; but they have left their masters in this branch very far behind them, and now make mirrors of dimensions of which the Venetians had no idea. These plates are cast at St. Gobin, near La Fère, in the department of L'Aisne, and sent to Paris to be polished and silvered. Here you may witness the process employed in each of these different operations.

A method of joining together two small plates of glass in such a manner that no mark appears, has, I am informed, been lately discovered in Paris. It is said, however, not to be applicable to those of large dimensions. After the operation of this species of soldering, the plates are silvered.

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Letter LXXXII

Paris, March 19, 1802.

As the period of my stay here is drawing rapidly towards a conclusion, I find much less leisure for writing; otherwise I should, in my last letter, have made you acquainted with an establishment not irrelevant to the leading subject of it, and which, when completed, cannot fail to attract general notice and admiration.

Every one has heard of the PIRANESI. In the year 1800, PIETRO and FRANCESCO, the surviving sons of the celebrated GIOVANNI-BATTISTA, transported to France their immense collection of drawings, with all their plates and engravings. They were welcomed, protected, and encouraged by the French government. Anxious to give to these ingenious artists every facility for the success of an undertaking that they had conceived, it has granted to them the spacious and handsome premises of the ci-devant Collège de Navarre, in the Rue de la Montagne St. Geneviève, which the PIRANESI will shortly open as an

ACADEMY OF FINE ARTS.

That ancient college is extremely well calculated for such a destination, from the extent of its buildings, its remoteness from noise, and the airiness of its situation. By this liberal conduct to the PIRANESI, the French government has shewn the warm interest it takes in the progress of those arts. The establishment of these Romans is to be divided into three branches. The first is placed in the Collège de Navarre; the second is to be in the Palais du Tribunat; and the third, at Morfontaine.

Three hundred artists of different nations, some of whom are known by master-pieces, while others announce the genius necessary for producing them, are to be distributed in the seven classes of this academy, which include the fine arts of every description. Each artist being at liberty to follow the branch to which he is most partial, it may easily be conceived how noble an emulation will be roused by such an assemblage of talents. Several are now employed here in the workshops of Painting, Sculpture, Mosaic, and Engraving. Let us see in what manner.

The ground-floor is devoted to Sculpture. Here are made, in plaster and terra cotta, models of the finest monuments of Greece and Italy, which are executed in stone of the richest species, such as porphyry, granite, red antique, Parian and Carrara marble. From the hands of the two CARDELLI, and other eminent artists, are seen to issue copies of the most magnificent bas-reliefs of ancient Rome, and the most beautiful friezes of RAPHAEL, MICHAEL ANGELO, JULIO ROMANO, and other great masters of the Italian school; tripods, obelisks, antique vases, articles of furniture in the Egyptian and Chinese taste, together with objects taken from nature, such as the most curious animals in the national ménagerie, likewise occupy their talents. All these subjects are executed in different sizes, and form, together or separately, decorations for apartments or tables, particularly pilasters, and plateaux, in which the richness of the materials is surpassed by that of the workmanship.

On the same floor is the workshop of Mosaic. It is under the direction of BELLONI, who has invented methods, by means of which he has introduced Mosaic into articles of furniture, and for the pavement of rich apartments, at prices far inferior to what might be imagined. The principal articles here exhibited, as specimens, are: --1. Superb marble tables and stands, in which are inserted ornaments and pictures in Mosaic, or incrustated in the Florentine manner--2. A large pavement, where the beauty and variety of the marbles are relieved by embellished incrustations--3. Small pictures, in which the painting, in very fine Mosaic, is raised on an even ground of one piece of black marble--4. Large tables, composed of specimens of fine-grained stones, such as jasper, agate, carnelion, lapis lazuli, &c. and also of valuable marbles, distributed into compartments and after a design imitated from the antique, and enriched with a few incrustated pictures, representing animals and flowers. Besides these, here are to be seen other essays of a kind entirely new. These are marbles, intended for furniture, coloured in an indelible manner. Sometimes the figures and ornaments in them are coloured in the ground; sometimes they are in colour, but raised on a ground of white marble.

On the first story is the workshop for Engraving. Here the artists are employed in engraving the seven hills of Rome, ancient circuses of that celebrated city, plans of the forum, obelisks of Rome and Egypt, ruins of Pompeia, drawn on the spot by the late J. B. PIRANESI, together with modern subjects, such as the splendid edifices of Paris, the beautiful views of the environs, the national fêtes, and every thing that can deservedly interest artists and persons of taste. On the same story are the plates of the PIRANESI calcography, the place where they are printed, and the warehouse where they are deposited. The engravings, now nearly executed, will form upwards of twenty volumes; and those begun will equal that number.

The second story is occupied by painters in oil-colours; the third, by those in water-colours; the fourth, by draughtsmen in Indian ink and bistre; and the fifth serves for the lodging of the artists, particularly the most skilful among them, who direct the different branches of this establishment. The principal pile of building is crowned by a Belvedere, which commands an extensive view of Paris, and seems calculated for promoting the inspirations of genius. Here are copied, in oil, water-colours, Indian ink and bistre, the fresco paintings of RAPHAEL, MICHAEL ANGELO, and JULIO ROMANO; the Vatican, the Farnesian palace, the Villa Altoviti, and the Villa Lante alternately furnishing models no less happily chosen than carefully executed. The antiquities of Herculaneum, so interesting from the knowledge they afford us of the customs of the ancient Romans, and from the elegant decorations of which they have procured us the models, the ruins of Palmyra and Balbeck, those of Greece and Sicily, together with views of Constantinople and of the country in which it is situated, are here rendered with the most exact truth, joined to the most harmonious colouring. Here too are represented; in the three manners before-mentioned, views and sites of Egypt, Greece, Italy, France, and all other countries; cascades, such as those of TERNI, NARNI, and TIVOLI; sea-pieces; landscapes, parks; and gardens; arabesques after RAPHAEL; new and picturesque plants; in a word, decorations formed of an assemblage of every thing most perfect in art and nature.

On the first and second stories are also two exhibition-rooms, for such pictures and works of sculpture as are finished, where the eye wanders agreeably amidst a crowd of objects of an enlivening or serious nature. Here it is that the amateur, after having seen the artists at work in the classes of this academy, fixes his choice on the kind of production which most takes his fancy. These two rooms contain the different articles which are afterwards to be displayed in the two porticos of the Palais du Tribunat.

Those elegant and spacious porticos, situated in the most centrical part of Paris, facing the Rue St. Honoré, have likewise been granted to the PRIANESI through the special favour of the government. Not only all the productions of their establishment, but also the principal master-pieces in painting, sculpture, and architecture, produced by artists of all nations, will there be exhibited; so that those porticos will present, as it were, an Encyclopædia of the Fine Arts.[1]

[Footnote 1: The principal protector of the undertaking of the PIRANESI is JOSEPH BONAPARTE, who has not confined himself to assisting them in the capital. Being desirous to introduce the arts into the country where he passes the finest season of the year, and to promote the discovery of the PIRANESI, relative to the properties of the argill found at Morfontaine, he has given to them for several years the use of a large building and a very extensive piece of ground, ornamented with bowers, where all the subjects modelled at the Collège de Navarre, in terra cotta or in porcelain of Morfontaine, undergo the process of baking. In the last-mentioned place, the PIRANESI purpose to establish a foundery for sculpture in bronze and other metals. The government daily affords to them encouragement and resources which insure the success of their establishment. To its other advantages are added a library, and a printing-office.]

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Letter LXXXIII

Paris, March 22, 1802.

As to the mechanical arts, if you are desirous to view some of the modern improvements and inventions in that line, you must accompany me to the Rue St. Martin, where, in the ci-devant priory, is an establishment of recent date, entitled the

CONSERVATORY OF ARTS AND TRADES.

Here is a numerous collection of machines of every description employed in the mechanical arts. Among these is the belier hydraulique, newly invented by MONTGOLFIER, by means of which a stream of water, having a few feet of declivity, can be raised to the top of a house by a single valve or sucker, so disposed as to open, to admit the water, and shut, when it is to be raised by compression. By increasing the compression, it can be raised to 1000 feet, and may be carried to a much greater elevation. The commissioners appointed by the Institute to examine this machine, reported that it was new, very simple, very ingenious, and might be extremely useful in turning to account little streams of water for the purposes of agriculture, manufactories, &c.

This reminds me of another singular hydraulic machine, of which I have been informed by a person who attended a trial made of it not long since in Paris.

A basin placed at the height of twenty feet, was filled with water, the fall of which set in motion several wheels and pumps that raised the water again into the basin. The machine was fixed in a place, glazed on all sides, and locked by three different keys. It kept in play for thirty-two days, without the smallest interruption; but the air, the heat, and the wood of the machine, having undoubtedly diminished the water, it no longer ascended into the basin. Till the thirty-second day, many persons imagined that the perpetual motion had been discovered. However, this machine was extremely light, well combined, and very simple in its construction. I ought to observe that it neither acted by springs nor counterpoise; all its powers proceeding from the fall of the water.

The conservatory also contains several models of curious buildings, too numerous to mention.

The mechanical arts in France appear to have experienced more or less the impulse given to the sciences towards the close of the eighteenth century. While calamities oppressed this country, and commerce was suspended, the inventive and fertile genius of the French was not dormant.

The clothiers have introduced woollen articles manufactured on a new plan; and their fine broad cloths and kerseymeres have attained great perfection. The introduction of the Spanish merinos into France has already produced in her wools a considerable amelioration.

Like a phoenix, Lyons is reviving from its ashes, and its silks now surpass, if possible, their former magnificence. Brocaded silk is at present made in a loom worked by one man only, in lieu of two, which the manufacture of that article hitherto demanded. Another new invention is a knitting-loom, by means of which 400 threads are interwoven with the greatest exactness, by merely turning a winch.

The cotton manufactures are much improved, and the manufactories in that line are daily increasing in number and perfection. A new spinning-machine has produced here, I am told, 160,000 ells in length out of a pound of cotton. The fly-shuttle is now introduced into most of the manufactories in this country, and 25 pieces of narrow goods are thus made at once by a single workman. In adopting ARKWRIGHT'S system, the French have applied it to small machines, which occupy no more room than a common spinning-wheel.

Among other branches in which the French mechanics have particularly distinguished themselves, since the revolution, is the making of astronomical and philosophical instruments.

All the machines used here in coining have also been modified and improved. By one of these, the piece is struck at the same time on the edge and on the flat side in so perfect a manner, that the money thus coined cannot he counterfeited.

I have already mentioned the invention of a composition which supplies the place of black lead for pencils, and the discovery of a new and very expeditious method of tanning leather.

New species of earthen-ware have been invented, and those already known have received considerable improvement.

Chemists have put the manufacturers in possession of new means of decomposing and recomposing substances. Muriat of tin is now made here with such economy, that it is reduced to one-eighth of its former price. This salt is daily used in dying and in the manufacture of printed calicoes. Carbonates of strontia and of baryt, obtained by a new process, will shortly be sold in Paris at 3 francs the kilogramme. This discovery is expected to have a great influence on several important arts, such as the manufacture of glass, of soap, &c.

Articles of furniture, jewellery, and every branch dependent on design, are now remarkable for a purer taste than that which they formerly exhibited.

Indeed, the characteristic difference of the present state of French industry, and that in which it was before the revolution, is that most of the proprietors of the manufactories have received a scientific education. At that time, many of them were strangers to the principles applicable to the processes of their art; and, in this respect, they lay at the mercy of the routine, ignorance, and caprice of their workmen. At present, the happy effects of instruction, more widely-diffused, begin to be felt, and, in proportion as it is extended, it excites a spirit of emulation which promises no small advantage to French commerce.

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