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 theRue St. Martin, where, in theci-devantpriory, 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 thebelier 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 phœnix, 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 thekilogramme. 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.
Paris, March 23, 1802.
In the richness of her territory, the abundance of her population, the activity of her inhabitants, and the knowledge comprised in her bosom, France possesses great natural advantages; but the effect which they might have produced on her industry, has been counteracted by the errors of her old government, and the calamities attendant on the revolution. Some public-spirited men, thinking the moment favourable for restoring to them all their influence, have lately met; and from this union has sprung the
SOCIETY FOR THE ENCOURAGEMENT OF NATIONAL INDUSTRY.
It is formed on a scale still more extensive than theSociety for the encouragement of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce, instituted at London. Its meetings are held in theLouvre; but, though fixed in the metropolis, it embraces the whole extent of the Republic, and every department will participate in the benefits which it proffers.
The chief objects of this society are: To collect, from all quarters, discoveries and inventions useful to the progress of the arts; to bestow annually premiums and gratuitous encouragements; to propagate instruction, by disseminating manuals on different objects relative to the arts, by combining the lights of theory with the results of practice, and by constructing at its own expense, and disseminating among the public in general, and particularly in the manufactories, such machines, instruments, and apparatus as deserve to be more generally known and brought into use; to make essays and experiments for ascertaining the utility which may be expected from new discoveries; to make advances to artists who may be in distress, or deficient in the means to put in practice the processes of their inventions; to unite by new ties all such persons as from their situation in life, their taste, or their talents, feel an interest in the progress of the arts; to become the centre of similar institutions, which are called for in all the principal manufacturing-towns of the Republic; in a word, toexcite emulation, diffuse knowledge, and assist talents.
To attain these objects, various committees, consisting of men the most conversant in knowledge relative to the arts, are already appointed, and divide among themgratuitouslythe whole of the labour.
This society, founded, on principles so purely patriotic, will, no doubt, essentially second the strenuous efforts of the government to reanimate the different branches of national industry. The free and spontaneous concurrence of the men of whom it is composed, may unite the power of opinion to that of other means; and public opinion produces naturally that which power and authority obtain only by a slow and difficult progress.
But, while those branches of industry, more immediately connected with the arts, are stimulated by these simultaneous encouragements, that science, on the practice of which depends the welfare of States, is not neglected. Independently of the Council of Agriculture, Commerce and Arts, established under the presidency of the Minister of the Interior, here is a
FREE SOCIETY OF AGRICULTURE.
Its object is to improve agriculture, not only in the department of La Seine, but throughout France. For this purpose, it maintains a regular correspondence with all the agricultural societies of the other departments. It publishes memoirs, in which are inserted the results of its labours, as well as the notices and observations read at the meetings by any one of its members, and the decision which has followed.
Every year it proposes prizes for the solution of some question important to the amelioration of agriculture.
What, at first view, appears extraordinary, is not, on that account, less founded on truth. Amidst the storms of the revolution, agriculture has been improved in France. At a period of happiness and tranquillity, the soil was not so well cultivated as in times of terror and mourning; because, during the latter, the lands enjoyed the franchises so long wanted. Hands never failed; for, when the men marched to the armies, women supplied their place; and no one was ashamed to handle the spade or the plough.
However, if, in 1789, agriculture in France was far from a state of prosperity, it was beginning to receive new light from the labours of the agricultural societies. That of Paris had given a great impulse to the culture of artificial meadows, potatoes, hemp, flax, and fruit-trees. Practical directions, spread with profusion in the country, had diverted the inhabitants from the routine which they had blindly followed from generation to generation.
Before the revolution, the French began to imitate us in gelding their horses, and giving to their lackies, their coachmen, and their equipages an English appearance; instead of copying us in the cultivation of our land, and adopting the principles of our rural economy. This want of foresight they are now anxious to repair, by increasing their pastures, and enriching them by an extensive variety of plants, augmenting the number of their cattle, whether intended for subsistence or reproduction, and improving the breed by a mixture of races well assorted, procuring a greater quantity of manure, varying their culture so as not to impoverish the soil, and separating their lands by inclosures, which obviate the necessity of constantly employing herdsmen to tend their cattle.
Agriculture has, unquestionably, suffered much, and is still suffering in the western departments. Notwithstanding the succour afforded by the government to rebuild and repair the deserted cottages and barns, to supply them with men and cattle, to set the ploughs to work, and revive industry, it is still evident that the want of confidence which maintains the value of money at an exorbitant rate, the love of stock-jobbing, the impossibility of opening small loans, the excessive price of manual labour, contributions exacted in advance, and the distress of most of the land-owners, who are not in a condition to shew favour to their tenants, are scourges which still overwhelm the country. But I am credibly informed that, in general, the rural inhabitants now lend a more attentive ear to instruction, and that prejudices have less empire over their reason. The great landed proprietors, whom terror had induced to fly their country, have, on recovering possession of their patrimony, converted their parks into arable land. Others, who are not fond of living in town, are daily repairing to their estates, in order to superintend the cultivation of them. No one disdains the simple title of farmer. Old publications relative to agriculture are reprinted in a form more within reach of the capacity of the people; though treatises on domestic animals are still much wanted.
At Rambouillet, formerly the country-seat of the duke of Penthièvre, is an experimental national farm.Fine cattle are now held in high estimation. Flocks of sheep of the Spanish breed are daily increasing; and the number of those of a pure race, already imported, or since bred in France, exceeds 8000.[1] Wide roads, which led to one solitary castle only, have been ploughed, and sown. The rage for ornamental gardens and pleasure-grounds is dying away. The breeding of horses, a branch of industry which the war and the requisition had caused to be abandoned, is on the point of being resumed with increased activity. It is in contemplation to establish studs, on plans better combined and much more favourable to the object than those which formerly existed. In short, the ardent wish of the thinking part of the nation seems to be, that the order which the government is endeavouring to introduce into every branch of its administration, may determine the labourer to proportion his hire to the current price of corn; but all these truths assembled form not such a sketch as you may, perhaps, expect. The state of French agriculture has never yet been delineated on a comprehensive scale, except by Arthur Young.You must persuade him to repeat his tour, if you wish for a perfect picture.[2]
March 22, in continuation.
Most persons are acquainted with DIDOT'S stereotypic editions of the classics, &c. which are sold here for 15sousper copy. Nothing more simple than the plan of this mode of printing. A page is first set up in moveable types; a mould or impression is then taken of the page with any suitable plastic substance, and a solid page is cast from it. The expense of a solid page exceeds not that of resetting it in moveable types; so that, by this invention, the price of books will be considerably reduced, and standard works will never be out of print. Nor are these the only advantages attending the use of stereotype; I must mention another of still greater importance.
By the common method of printing, it is impossible ever to have correct books. They are in the market before all their errors are discovered; and the latest edition of a work, which ought to be the most correct, is necessarily the most faulty; for it presents not only the errors of that from which it was copied, but also those peculiar to itself.Stereotypic books are printed only to answer the extent of the demand; and errors, when discovered, being corrected in the metal, they must, through time and attention, become immaculate; a circumstance of infinite importance in astronomical and mathematical tables of every description.[3]
For elegance of printing, DIDOT is the BENSLEY of Paris; but to see a grand establishment in this line, you must go to theRue de la Vrillière, near thePlace des Victoires, and visit the
PRINTING-OFFICE OF THE REPUBLIC.
Under the title ofImprimerie Royale, this establishment vas formerly placed in the galleries of theLouvre. Instituted by Francis I in 1531, it was greatly enlarged and improved under Lewis XIII and Lewis XIV. It has also been considerably augmented since its removal, in 1791, to the hotel belonging to the late Duke of Penthièvre, which it now occupies.
In its present state, it may be considered as the most extensive and most complete typographical establishment in being. Every branch relating to typography, from the casting of the type to the article of binding, is here united. Thedépôtof punches contains upwards of 30,000 characters of all languages. Among others, here are to be remarked, in all their primitive purity, the beautiful Greek ones of Garamon, engraved by order of Francis I, and which served for the editions of the Stephen, the Byzantine, &c, the oriental characters of the Polyglot of Vitræus, and the collection of exotic characters from the printing-office of the Propaganda. The government business alone constantly employs one hundred presses. A much greater number can be set to work, if wanted.
Independently of the works concerning administration and the sciences, which are executed here at the public cost, the government allows authors to cause to be printed at this office, at their own private expense, such works as, on account of their importance, the difficulty of execution, and the particular types which they require, are entitled to that favour.
On applying to the director, the amateurs of typography are instantly admitted to view this establishment, and shewn every thing interesting in it, with that spirit of liberality which is extended to every public institution here, and which reflects the highest honour on the French nation.
Footnote 1: At the last annual sale at Rambouillet, the average price of a good Spanish ram was no more than 412 francs or £17 sterling. The dearest sold for 620 francs.Return to text
Footnote 2: The statistical accounts of the different departments, which are to be compiled by order of the Minister of the Interior, will specify all the agricultural improvements. The few already published, shew that if the population of France is somewhat diminished in the large towns, it is considerably increased in the country-places.Return to text
Footnote 3: It is, however, to be remarked that the merit of this invaluable invention is not due to France, but to Britain. As far back as the year 1725, a Mr. GED, of Edinburgh, turned his thoughts to the formation of cast letter-press plates, and, in 1736, printed a stereotype edition of Sallust. Being opposed by a combination of printers and booksellers, whose ignorance and prejudices he was unable to overcome, he relinquished the prosecution of his discovery; and thus the stereotypic art was lost to the world, till rediscovered, in 1780, by Mr. ALEXANDER TILLOCH. In the year 1783, Mr. TILLOCH took out a patent for it, in conjunction with Mr. FOULIS, then printer to the University of Glasgow. They printed several books in this manner; but it seems that they also experienced an opposition from the booksellers, and, owing to different circumstances, have not since availed themselves of their patent. Notwithstanding this evidence of priority, the French dispute the invention; and the learned CAMUS, in his "Historical Sketch of Polytypage and Stereotypage," affirms, on the authority of LOTTIN, that, towards the end of the seventeenth century, the stereotypic process was put in practice in France, for printing the calendars prefixed to the missals. Hence it is seen that the claim of the English is supported by positive proof; while that of the French rests on bare assertion.Return to text
Paris, March26, 1802.
In visiting a foreign country, and more especially its capital, the traveller, whose object is instruction, enters into the most minute details, in order to obtain a complete knowledge of the various classes of its inhabitants. As Seneca justly observes, in his epistles, what benefit can a person reap from his travels, who spends all his time in examining the beauty and magnificence of public buildings? Will the contemplation of them render him more wise, more temperate, more liberal in his ideas? Will it remove his prejudices and errors? It may amuse him for a time, as a child, by the novelty and variety of objects, which excite an unmeaning admiration. To act thus, adds the learned stoic, is not to travel, it is to wander, and lose both one's time and labour.
"Non est hoc peregrinari, sed erraie."
Wherefore Horace, in imitation of Homer, says, in praise of Ulysses,
"Qui mores hominum multorum vidit, et urbes."
I have, I hope, given you enough of sights and shows; let us then, my good friend, follow the wise example of the ancients, and take a view of men and manners.
Owing, in some measure, to the levity of French character, and the freedom which now prevails generally enough in all society here, this sort of study, sometimes so tedious, is greatly facilitated. In the Parisian assemblies of the present day, by an almost continual collision, self-love discovers the weak side of an individual whose whole merit consists in a little small-talk, and a rotation of thosejolis petits riens, which, seconded by a well-favoured countenance and an agreeable carriage, have given him in the world the reputation of an amiable man; while, from another, we see a thousand essential qualities, concealed under a coarse exterior, force themselves into notice, and which his modesty, or more frequently his timidity, prevented him from displaying.
From the preceding preamble, you will naturally conclude that I purpose to appropriate this letter to a few remarks on the
PRESENT STATE OF SOCIETY IN PARIS.
In this city are three very distinct kinds of society. But the order I shall adopt in the description of each of them must not, in any way, lead you to prejudge my opinion respecting the rank which they hold among the French themselves. In this respect, I shall abstain from every sort of reflection, and, confining myself to the simple character of a faithful narrator, shall leave to your sagacity to decide the question.
I shall begin by the society, chiefly composed of theci-devant noblesse, several of whom, never having quitted France, have preserved some of their property; and of emigrants, lately returned to their own country, and who have enough remaining to allow them to have a household establishment, but in a very modest style indeed, compared to that which their rank and fortune enabled them to support before the revolution.
You present yourself at the residence ofMadame la Marquise de C----. In the anti-room, you declare your name and quality to the groom of the chambers. Then, the opening of one or two folding-doors announces to the mistress of the house, and to the company, thequantumof the ceremonies which are to be paid to the newcomer. Keep your eye constantly on theMarquise, her behaviour will regulate yours in regard to the individuals who compose her party. In the course of conversation, take special care not to omit the title of the person to whom you address yourself. Such an instance of forgetfulness savours of a man of the newrégime. Never pronounce the new denominations respecting the divisions of the French territory, the months, the weights, measures, &c. Those words would draw on you an unfavourable interpretation. If you are inclined to hear a discussion on the arts and sciences, or on any new discovery whatever, you seldom find, in these parties, persons who can gratify your taste; though you may meet with many who, as Locke says, "know a little, presume a great deal, and so jump to a conclusion."
From the plebeians, whose presence theci-devantnobles are so condescending as to endure, much obsequiousness and servility are required; and it is expected that the distance of rank should never be forgotten. But the learned or scientific French revolutionist, who admits no other distance than that between knowledge and ignorance, not choosing to submit to such conditions, seldom presents himself at the house ofMadame la Marquise de C----. However, you will hear her company speak of the court of France, of the interest which each individual had there, and also a few anecdotes not uninteresting, and which will furnish you with some ideas of the brilliant parties there formed. After this discussion, one will talk to you of his regiment; another, of his hunting establishment, of hischâteaux, of his estates, &c.Chez Madame la Marquise de C----, you will find no inconsiderable prepossession against every thing that is not of the old order of things, and even some exclusive pretensions to manners which belong to those only who are real gentlemen. Yet, through all these absurdities, you will always see good-breeding prevail in this society, and the disposition which distinguishes a Frenchman from other polished nations, will here break forth and present itself to you in a striking manner.
While speaking of theci-devant noblesse, I cannot forbear to mention the loss which those who had the happiness of her acquaintance, have sustained by the recent death of Madame DE CHOISEUL, the relict of the duke of that name, minister to Lewis XV. Her virtues shed such a lustre round her, that it reached even the monarch himself, who, when he banished her husband to Chanteloup, wrote to him: "I should have sent you much further, but for the particular esteem I have for Madame DE CHOISEUL, in whose health I take no small interest." This uncommonly-respectable woman will long be quoted and deservedly regretted, because she was modest in greatness, beneficent in prosperity, courageous in misfortune, pure in the vortex of corruption, solid in the midst of frivolity, as simple in her language as she was brilliant in her understanding, and as indulgent to others as she was superior to them in grace and virtue.
I shall next lead you to the house of aparvenu, that is, one of those, who, from having made some successful speculations, and possessing a conscience not overnice as to the means of fixing Fortune, is enabled to live in the expensive style of theci-devantcourt-lords and farmers-general. A letter changed in the person's name, not unfrequently adeor aSt.added, (sometimes both) puzzles the curious, who endeavour to discover what was formerly M.de St. H------, now in the enjoyment of an annual income of a hundred thousand francs, or £4000 sterling.
At his house, more than any where else, etiquette is kept up with an extraordinary minuteness; and evil tongues will tell you that it is natural for M.de St. H------to remember and avail himself of the observations which he had it in his power to make in the place he formerly occupied. Under his roof, you will find little of that ease and amiableness which are to be remarked in the other societies of Paris. Each individual is on his guard, and afraid of betraying himself by certain expressions, which the force of habit has not yet allowed him to forget. But if you are fond of good music, if you take a pleasure in balls, and in the company offemmes galantesor demireps; and even if first-rate jugglers, ventriloquists, and mimics amuse you by their skilful performances, frequent the house of M.de St. H------, and every day, or at least every day that he is at home, you will have a new entertainment.
Between the acts, the company make their remarks, each in his own way, on what they have just seen or heard. Afterwards, the conversation turns on the public funds. Little is said, however, on affairs of State, the bankruptcies of the day, and the profit which such or such a speculation might produce. The ladies, after having exhausted the subject of the toilet, finish by giving, as an apology for their own conduct, the charitable enumeration of the peccadilloes which they fancy they have remarked in other women.
So little am I disposed for gaming, that I forgot to mentionbouillotte,quinze, and also whist and reversi, which are introduced at all these parties. But the two last-mentioned games are reserved for those only who seek in cards nothing more than a recreation from the occupations of the day. At the others, gain is the sole object of the player; and many persons sit at the gaming-table the whole night, and, in the depth of winter even, never leave it till the "garish sun" warns them that it is time to withdraw.
I have now only to introduce you at M.B------'s, Counsellor of State. Here you will find the completion of the other two societies, and a very numerous party, which affords to every one a conversation analogous to his taste or his means. Refrain, however, from touching on politics; the French government, still in its infancy, resembles a young plant exposed to the inclemency of the air, and whose growth is directed by skilful hands. This government must remove, and even sometimes destroy every obstacle it meets with, and which may be prejudicial to the form and direction that it thinks proper to give to its branches and various ramifications. Beware, above all, of speaking of the revolution. That string is too delicate to be touched in regard to certain individuals of M.B------'sparty, perhaps also in regard to himself: for the periods of the calamities which the French have undergone are still quite recent, and the parts that many of these persons may have acted, call to mind recollections too painful, which, for their tranquillity, ought ever to be buried in oblivion. And, in fact, you will always perceive, in the meetings of this class, a harmony, apparent indeed, but which, surprises a stranger the more, as, of all the societies in Paris, it presents to him the greatest medley in point of the persons who compose it.
In this society you will hear very instructive dissertations on the sciences, sound literature, the fine arts, mechanics, and the means of rendering useful the new discoveries, by applying them with economy to the French manufactories, either public or private: for M.B------considers it as his duty to receive with distinction all thesavans, and generally all those called men of talent. In this line of conduct, he follows the example set him by the government; and every one is desirous to appear a Mæcenas in the eyes of Augustus. In other respects, the house of M.B------will afford you the agreeble pastimes which you have found at M.de St. H------'s.
In Paris, however, are several other societies which, to consider them rightly, are no more than a diminutive of those you have just left; but which, nevertheless, are of a character sufficiently distinct in their composition to justify their pretensions to be classed as well as the others. This difference proceeding chiefly from that of political opinions alone, an acquaintance with the great societies here will enable you to select those of the middle class which you may think proper to frequent, according to your taste, or your manner of seeing and judging of the events of the French revolution. Yet, you must not hence conclude that the conversation turns chiefly on that subject in this particular class of the Parisian societies. They concern themselves less about it perhaps than the others, whether from the little share they have had in it, or because they have but very indirect connexions with the government, or lastly, and this final reason is, I believe, the most conclusive, because a Frenchman, from the nature of his character, ends by forgetting his misfortunes and losses, cares little for the future, and appears desirous to enjoy the present only; following, in that respect, the precept of La Fontaine:
"Jouis dès aujourd'hui, tu n'as pas tant à vivre;Je te rebàts ce mot—car il vaut tout un livre."
In truth, although, among this people, vexations and enjoyments are almost always the result of imagination, they have preserved the remembrance of their misfortunes only to turn to account the terrible lessons which they have received from them, by adopting, in regard to the present and to the future, that happy philosophy which knows how to yield to the circumstances of the moment. This it is (you may rely on the fact) that has contributed, more than any other cause, to re-establish, in so short a period, the order and tranquillity which France presents to the eyes of astonished foreigners. This it is too that has, in a great measure, obviated the fatal consequences which their past troubles must have made them fear for a long time to come, and for which few remedies could be expected, especially when we reflect on the divisions which the revolution has sown in almost every family in this country.
P. S. The sound of cannon, which strikes my ear at this moment, announces the signature of the definitve treaty. In the evening, a grand illumination will take place to celebrate the return of the most desirable of all blessings.
"------------O beauteous Peace!Sweet union of a State! What else but thouGiv'st safety, strength, and glory to a people?"
Paris, March 28, 1802.
Whatever changes may have been introduced by the revolution, in one respect at least, the Parisians still preserve towards foreigners that urbanity for which they were remarkable half a century ago, when Sterne paid them a visit. If you ask a shopkeeper here, of either sex, the way to a place, perhaps at some distance, he or she neglects the occupation of the moment to direct you, with as much solicitude and attention as though a considerable advantage was to be the result of the given information. It is the small sweet courtesies of life, as that sentimental traveller remarks, which render the road of it less rugged.
Sometimes, indeed, a foreigner pays dearly for the civility shewn him in Paris; but, in laying out his money, he must ever bear in mind that the shopkeepers make no scruple to overcharge their articles to their own countrymen, and some will not blush to take, even from them, a third less than the price demanded.
Soon after my arrival here, I think I mentioned to you the excessive dearness of
FURNISHED LODGINGS.
Since the revolution, their price is nearly doubled, and is extremely high in the most fashionable parts of the town, such as theChaussée d'Antin, theRue de la Loi, theRue de la Concorde, &c. For strangers that know not in Paris any friend who will take the trouble to seek for them suitable apartments, the only way to procure good accommodation is to alight at a ready-furnished hotel, and there hire rooms by the day till they can look about them, and please themselves.
For my own part, I prefer the quiet of a private lodging to the bustle of a public hotel, and, as I have before mentioned, my constant resource, on such occasions, has been thePetites Affiches. If you go to the office where this Daily Advertiser is published, and inspect the file, it is ten to one that you immediately find apartments to your wishes.
A single man may now be comfortably lodged here, in a private house with aporte-cochère, at from 5 to 8 louis per month; and a small family may be well accommodated, in that respect, at from 12 to 16 louis. A larger party, requiring more room, may obtain excellent apartments at from 20 louis a month upwards, according to the situation, the conveniences, the taste and condition of the furniture, and other contingencies. To prevent subsequent misunderstanding, I would always recommend a written agreement.
The English have hitherto paid dearer than other foreigners for whatever they want in Paris, because they generally trust to their servants, and think it beneath them to look into those matters connected with their own comfort. But theMilords Anglaisare now entirely eclipsed by the Russian Counts, who give two louis where the English offer one. A person's expenses here, as every where else, materially depend on good management, without which a thoughtless man squanders twice as much as a more considerate one; and while the former obtains no more than the common comforts of life, the latter enjoys all its indulgences.
With respect to the gratifications of the table, I have little to add to what I have already said on that subject, in speaking of therestaurateurs. If you choose to become a boarder, you may subscribe at theHôtel du Cirque,Rue de la Loi, and sit down every day in good company for about seven louis a month; and there are very respectable private houses, where you may, when once introduced, dine very well for five livres a time; but, at all these places, you are sure to meet either English or Americans; and the consequence is, that you are eternally speaking your mother-tongue, which is a material objection with those who are anxious to improve themselves in the French language. For a man who brings his family to Paris, and resides in private apartments, it might, perhaps, be more advisable to hire a cook, and liveà l'Anglaiseorà la Française, according to his fancy.
No conveniences have been so much improved in Paris, since the revolution, as
JOB AND HACKNEY CARRIAGES.
Formerly, theremisesor job-carriages were far inferior to those in use at the present day; and the oldfiacresor hackney-coaches were infamous. The carriages themselves were filthy; the horses, wretched; and the coachmen, in tatters, had more the look of beggars than that of drivers.
Now, not only good hackney-coaches, but chariots and cabriolets likewise, figure here on the stands; and many of them have an appearance so creditable that they might even be taken for private French equipages.The regular stipulated fare of all these vehicles is at present 30sousacourse, and the same for every hour after the first, which is fixed at 40sous.[1] In 1789, it used to be no more than 24. For the 30sous, you may drive from one extremity of Paris to the other, provided you do not stop by the way; for every voluntary stoppage is reckoned acourse. However, if you have far to go, it is better to agree to pay 40sousper hour, and then you meet with no contradiction. From midnight to six o'clock in the morning, the fare is double.
The present expense of a job-carriage, with a good pair of horses, (including the coachman, who is always paid by the jobman) varies from 22 to 24 louis a month, according to the price of forage. If you use your own carriage, the hire of horses and coachman will cost you from 12 to 15 louis, which, in 1789, was the price of a job-carriage, all expenses included.
Under the oldrégime, there were no stands of cabriolets.[2] These carriages are very convenient to persons pressed for time; but it must be confessed that they are no small annoyance to pedestrians. Of this Lewis XV was so convinced, that he declared if he were Minister of the Police, he would suffer no cabriolets in Paris. He thought this prohibition beneath his own greatness. To obviate, in some measure, the danger arising both from the want of foot-pavement, and from the inconsiderate rapidity with which these carriages are not unfrequently driven, it is now a law that the neck of every horse in a cabriolet must be provided with bells, and the carriage with two lamps, lighted after dark; yet, in spite of these precautions, and the severity which the police exercises against those who transgress the decree, serious accidents sometimes happen.
Before the revolution, "gare! gare!" was the only warning given here to foot-passengers. The master, in his cabriolet, first drove over a person, the servant behind then bawled out "gare!" and the maimed pedestrian was left to get up again as he was able. Such brutal negligence now meets with due chastisement.
At a trial which took place here the other day in a court of justice, the driver of a cabriolet was condemned to three months imprisonment in a house of correction, and to pay a fine of 100 francs for maiming a carter. The horse had no bells, as prescribed by law; and the owner of the cabriolet was, besides, condemned, in conjunction with the driver, to pay an indemnification of 3000 francs to the wounded carter, as being civilly responsible for the conduct of his servant.
Notwithstanding the danger of walking in the streets of Paris, such French women as are accustomed to go on foot, traverse the most frequented thoroughfares in the dirtiest weather, at the same time displaying, to the astonished sight of bespattered foreigners, a well-turned leg, a graceful step, and spotless stockings.
If you arrive in Paris without a servant, or (what amounts almost to the same thing) should you bring with you a man ignorant of the French language, you may be instantly accommodated with one or several domestics, under the name of
VALETS-DE-PLACE.
Like every thing else here, the wages of these job-servants are augmented. Formerly, their salary was 30 or 40sousa day: they now ask 4 francs; but, if you purpose to spend a few weeks here, will be glad to serve you for 3. Some are very intelligent; others, very stupid. Most of them are spies of the police; but, as an Englishman in Paris has nothing to conceal, of what consequence is it whether his steps are watched by his ownvalet-de-placeor any othermouchard?It is usual for them to lay under contribution all the tradesmen you employ; and thus the traiteur, the jobman, &c. contribute to augment their profits. However, if they pilfer you a little themselves, they take care that you are not subjected to too much imposition from others.—To proceed to a few
GENERAL OBSERVATIONS.
In visiting the French capital, many Englishmen are led into an error. They imagine that a few letters of recommendation will be the means of procuring them admission into other houses besides those of the persons to whom these letters are addressed. But, on their arrival in Paris, they will find themselves mistaken. The houses of thegreatare difficult of access, and those of the secondary class scarcely open with more ease than they did before the revolution. If proper attention be paid to all the letters which a stranger brings, he may be satisfied; though the persons to whom he is recommended, seldom think of taking him to the residence of any of their friends. Therefore, an English traveller, who wishes to mix much in French society, should provide himself with as many letters of recommendation as he can possibly obtain; unless, indeed, he has a celebrated name, which, in all countries, is the best introduction; for curiosity prompts the higher classes to see and examine the man who bears it. The doors of every house will be open to him, when they are shut against other strangers, and he may soon establish an intimacy in the first circles. To those who possess not that advantage, a Frenchman may be induced to offer a dinner, or two, perhaps, and return them a few formal visits. He will profess more than he performs. In a word, he will be polite, but not familiar and friendly.
An Englishman, thus circumstanced, finding that he gains no ground, and is treated with a sort of ceremony, will probably seek other company, dine at therestaurateurs', frequent thespectacles, and visit the impures: for such was the life our countrymen, in general, led in Paris before the revolution. Public amusements may, perhaps, make him amends for the want of private society. As, from their astonishing number, they may be varied without end, he may contrive to pass away his evenings. His mornings will, at first, be employed, no doubt, in visiting public curiosities; but, after he has repeatedly surveyed these scenes of attraction, he will fail in what ought to be the grand object of foreign travel, and return home without having acquired a competent knowledge of the manners of the country. He ought therefore to husband proper French acquaintances, and keep up a constant intercourse with them, or he will run a risk of finding himself insulated. Should indisposition confine him to the house for a few days, every one to whom he has been recommended, will suppose him gone, he will no longer be thought of;ennuiwill take possession of him, and, cursing France, he will wish himself safely landed on the shore of Old England.
If this is the case with an Englishman who brings letters to Paris, what must be the situation of one who visits this capital entirely unprovided in that respect? The banker on whom he has a letter of credit, may invite him to a dinner, at which are assembled twenty persons, to all of whom he is a perfect stranger. Without friends, without acquaintances, he will find himself like a man dropped from the clouds, amidst six or seven hundred thousand persons, driving or walking about in pursuit of their affairs or pleasures. For want of a proper clue to direct him, he is continually in danger of falling into the most detestable company; and the temptations to pleasure are so numerous and so inviting in this gay city, that it requires more fortitude than falls to the lot of many to resist them. Consequently, an untravelled foreigner cannot be too much on his guard in Paris; for it will require every exertion of his prudence and discrimination to avoid being duped and cheated. Above all, he should shun those insinuating and subtle characters who, dexterous in administering that delicious essence which mixes so sweetly with the blood, are ever ready to shew him the curiosities, and introduce him into coteries, which they will represent as respectable, and in which the mistress of the house and her daughters will, probably, conspire to lighten his pocket, and afterwards laugh at his credulity.
As to the reception which the English are likely to meet with here after the ratification of the definitive treaty, (if I may be permitted to judge from personal experience and observation) I think it will, in a great measure, depend on themselves. Therefore, should any of our countrymen complain of being treated here with less attention now than before the revolution, it will, on candid investigation, prove to be their own fault. The essential difference will be found to consist in the respect paid to the man, not, as formerly, in proportion to his money, but to his social worth. The French seem now to make a distinction between individuals only, not between nations. Whence it results that,cæteris paribus, the foreigner who possesses most the talent of making himself agreeable in society, will here be the most welcome. Not but, in general, they will shew greater indulgence to an Englishman, and be inclined to overlook in him that which they would consider as highly unpardonable in a stranger of any other country.
On such occasions, their most usual exclamation is "Les Anglais sont des gens bien extraordinaires! Ma foi! ils sont inconcevables!" And, indeed, many Englishmen appear to glory in justifying the idea, andastonishing the nativesby the eccentricity of their behaviour. But theseoriginalsshould recollect that what may be tolerated in a man of superior talent, is ridiculous, if not contemptible, in one undistinguished by such a pretension; and that, by thuspostingtheir absurdities to the eyes of a foreign nation, they leave behind them an impression which operates as a real injury in regard to their more rational countrymen. Another circumstance deserves no less animadversion.
In their first essay of foreign travel, our British youths generally carry with them too ample a share of national prepossession and presumption. Accustomed at home to bear down all before them by the weight of their purse, they are too apt to imagine that, by means of a plentiful provision of gold, they may lord it over the continent, from Naples to Petersburg; and that a profuse expenditure of money supersedes the necessity of a compliance with established forms and regulations. Instead of making their applications and inquiries in a proper manner, so as to claim due attention, they more frequently demand as a right what they should rather receive as a favour. Finding themselves disappointed in their vain conclusions, their temper is soured; and, being too proud to retract their error, or even observe a prudent silence, they deal out their impertinence and abuse in proportion to the number of guineas which they may be able to squander. Of course, they cannot but view the peculiar habits and customs of all foreign nations with a jaundiced eye, never reflecting that in most countries are to be found, either in a moral or a physical sense, advantages and disadvantages in which others are deficient.LePOURet leCONTRE, as a well-known traveller observes,se trouvent en chaque nation. The grand desideratum is to acquire by travel a knowledge of this POURetCONTRE, which, by emancipating us from our prejudices, teaches us mutual toleration—for, of every species of tyranny, that which is exercised on things indifferent in themselves, is the most intolerable. Hence it is less difficult to deprive a nation of its laws than to change its habits.
Footnote 1: When assignats were in circulation, a singlecourse en fiacresometimes cost 600 livres, which was at the rate of 10 livres per minute. But this will not appear extraordinary, when it is known that the depreciation of that paper-currency was such that, at one time, 18,000 livres in assignats could be procured for a singlelouis d'or.Return to text
Footnote 2: A cabriolet is a kind of one-horse chaise, with a standing head, and inclosed in front by a wooden flap, in lieu of one of leather. Behind, there is a place for a footman.Return to text
Paris, March 31, 1802.
If I mistake not, I have answered most of the questions contained in your letters; I shall now reply to you on the subject of
DIVORCE.
The number of divorced women to be met with here, especially among the more affluent classes, exceeds any moderate calculation. Nothing can more clearly manifest the necessity of erecting some dike against the torrent of immorality, which has almost inundated this capital, and threatens to spread over all the departments.
Before the revolution, the indissolubility of marriage in France was supposed to promote adultery in a very great degree: the vow was broken because the knot could not be untied. At present, divorces are so easily obtained, that a man or woman, tired of each other, have only to pleadincompatibility of temper, in order to slip their necks out of the matrimonial noose. In short, some persons here change their wedded partner with as much unconcern as they do their linen. Thus, the two extremes touch each other; and either of them has proved equally pernicious to morals.
Formerly, if a Frenchman kept a watchful eye on his wife, he was reckoned jealous, and was blamed. If he adopted a contrary conduct, and she was faithless, he was ridiculed. Not unfrequently, a young miss, emerged from the cloisters of a convent, where she had, perhaps, been sequestered, in order that her bloom might not eclipse the declining charms of her mother, and who appeared timid, bashful, and diffident, was no sooner married to a man in a certain rank in life, than she shone as a meteor of extravagance and dissipation. Such a wife thought of nothing but the gratification of her own desires; because she considered it as a matter of course that all the cares of the family ought to devolve by right on the husband. Provided she could procure the means of satisfying her taste for dress, and of making a figure in thebeau monde, no other concerns ever disturbed her imagination. If, at first, she had sufficient resolution to resist the contagion of example, and not take a male friend to her bosom, by way of lightening the weight of her connubial chains, she seldom failed, in the end, to follow the fashion of the day, and frequent the gaming-table, where her virtue was sacrificed to discharge her debts of honour.
But what have thesewould-berepublicans to allege as an excuse in their favour? They have no convents to initiate young girls in the arts of dissimulation; no debauched court to contaminate, by its example, the wavering principles of the weak part of the sex, or sap the more determined ones of those whose mind is of a firmer texture; nor have they any friendly, sympathizing confessors to draw a spunge, as it were, over the trespasses hid in a snug corner of their heart. No: every one is left to settle his own account with heaven. Yet the libertinism which at present reigns in Paris is sufficient to make a deep impression on persons the least given to reflection.
Il matrimonio, says the Italian proverb,è un paradiso o un inferno. In fact, nothing can be compared to the happiness of a married couple, united by sympathy. To them, marriage is really a terrestrial paradise. But what more horrid than the reverse, that is, two beings cursing the fatal hour which brought them together in wedlock? It is a very hell on earth; for surely no punishment can exceed that of being condemned to pass our days with the object of our detestation.
If the indissolubility of marriage in France was formerly productive of such bad consequences; now that the nuptial knot can be loosened with so much facility, there can no longer exist the same plea for adultery. Is then this accumulation of vice less the effect of the institution of divorce in itself, than that of the undigested law by which it was first introduced?
The law of divorce was, I find, projected in 1790, under the auspices of the last Duke of Orleans, who, utterly regardless of the welfare of the State, wished to revolutionize every thing, solely with a view to his own individual interest. His object was to get rid of his wife, who was a woman of strict virtue. This law was decreed on the 20th of September 1792, without any discussion whatever. On the 8th of Nivôse and 4th of Floréal, year II, (29th of December 1794 and 24th of April 1795) the Convention decreed additional laws, all tending to favour the impetuosity of the passions. Thus the door was opened still wider to licentiousness and debauchery. By these laws, an absence of six months is sufficient for procuring a divorce, and, after the observance of certain forms, either of the parties may contract a fresh marriage.
It is not difficult to conceive how many hot-headed, profligate, unprincipled persons, of both sexes, have availed themselves of such laws to gratify their unruly passions, their resentment, their avarice, or their ambition. Oaths, persons, or property, are, in these cases, little respected. If a libertine finds that he cannot possess the object of his desires on any other terms, like Sir John Brute, in the play, he marries her, in order to go to bed to her, and in a few days sues for a divorce. I have been shewn here a Lothario of this description, who, in the course of a short space of time had been married to no less than six different women.
"Divorce," says a judicious French writer, "is a separation, the necessity for which ought to be supported by unquestionable proofs; otherwise, it is nothing more than a legitimate scandal."
The French often wish to assimilate themselves to the Romans, and the Roman laws sanctioned divorce. Let us then examine how far the comparison can, in this respect, be supported.
"Among the Romans," continues he, "the first who availed himself of this privilege was Spurius Corbilius, because his wife was steril. The second divorce was that of C. Sulpicius, because his wife had gone abroad with her hair uncovered, and without a veil over her head. Q. Anstitius divorced on account of having seen his wife speak to a person of her own sex, who was reckoned loose in her conduct; and Sempronius, because his had been to see the public entertainments without having informed him. These different divorces took place about a hundred years after the foundation of Rome. The Romans, after that, were upwards of five hundred years without affording an instance of any divorce. They then were moral and virtuous. But, at length, luxury, that scourge of societies, corrupted their hearts; and divorces became so frequent, that many women reckoned their age by the number of their husbands." To this he might have added, that several Roman ladies of rank were so lost to all sense of shame, that they publicly entered their names among the licensed prostitutes.
"Marriage," concludes he, "presently became nothing more than an object of commerce and speculation; and divorce, a tacit permission for libertinism. Can divorce among the French, be considered otherwise, when we reflect that this institution, which seemed likely to draw closer the conjugal tie, by restoring it to its state of natural liberty, is, through the abuse made of it, now only a mean of shameful traffic, in which the more cunning of the two ruins the ether, in short, a mound the less against the irruptions of immorality?"
So much for the opinion of a French writer of estimation on the effect of these laws: let us at present endeavour to illustrate it by some examples.
A young lady, seduced by a married man, found herself pregnant. She was of a respectable family: he was rich, and felt the consequences of this event. What was to be done? He goes to one of his friends, whom he knew not to be overburdened with delicacy, and proposes to him to marry this young person, in consideration of a certain sum of money. The friend consents, and the only question is to settle the conditions. They bargain for some time: at last they agree for 10,000 francs (circa£410 sterling). The marriage is concluded, the lady is brought to bed, the child dies, and the gentleman sues for a divorce. All this was accomplished in six months. As such opportunities are by no means scarce, he may, in the course of the year, probably, meet with another of the same nature: thus the office of bridegroom is converted into a lucrative situation. The following is another instance of this melancholy truth, but of a different description.
A man about thirty-two years of age, well-made, and of a very agreeable countenance, had been married three months to a young woman of uncommon beauty. He was loved, nay almost adored by her. Every one might have concluded that they were the happiest couple in Paris; and, in fact, no cloud had hitherto overshadowed the serenity of their union. One day when the young bride was at table with her husband, indulging herself in expressing the happiness which she enjoyed, a tipstaff entered, and delivered to her a paper. She read it. What should it be but a subpœna for a divorce? At first she took the thing for a pleasantry: but the husband soon convinced her that nothing was more serious. He assured her that this step would make her fortune, and his own too, if she would consent to the arrangement which he had to propose to her. "You know," said he, "the rich and ugly Madame C----: she has 30,000 francs a year (circa £1250 sterling); she will secure to me the half of her property, provided I will marry her. I offer you a third, if, after having willingly consented to our divorce, you will permit me to see you as my female friend." Such a proposal shocked her at the moment; but a week's reflection effected a change in her sentiments; and the business was completed.O tempora! O mores!
But though many married individuals still continue to break their chains, it appears that divorces are gradually decreasing in number; and should the government succeed in introducing into the law on this subject the necessary modifications, of course they will become far less frequent.
Every legislature must be aware to what a degree plays are capable of influencing the opinions of a nation, and what a powerful spring they are for moving the affections. Why then are not theatrical representations here so regulated, that the stage may conduce to the amelioration of morals? Instead of this, in most French comedies, the husband is generally made the butt of ridicule, and the whole plot often lies in his being outwitted by some conceited spark. Marriage, in short, is incessantly railed at in such a lively, satirical manner as to delight nine-tenths of the audience.
This custom was also introduced on our stage under the reign of Charles II; and, not many years ago, it was, I am told, as usual to playThe London Cuckoldson Lord Mayor's day, as it is now to give a representation ofGeorge Barnwellduring the Easter holidays. Yet, what is this practice of exhibiting a cuckold in a ridiculous point of view, but an apology for adultery, as if it was intended to teach women that their charms are not formed for the possession of one man only? Alas! it is but too true that some of the French belles need no encouragement to infidelity: too soon all scruple is stifled in their bosom; and then, they not only set modesty, but decency too at defiance.Ce n'est que le premier pas qui coute; or, as the same idea is more fully expressed by our great moral poet:
"Vice is a monster of so frightful mien,As, to be hated, needs but to be seen;Yet, seen too oft, familiar with her face,We first endure, then pity, then embrace."
However, in both the instances which I have adduced, the fault was entirely on the side of the men; and, in general, I believe this will prove to be the case. Recrimination, indeed, is loudly urged by our sex in Paris; they blame the women, with a view of extenuating their own irregularities, which scarcely know any limits.
On a question of a divorce-bill brought on, not long since, in the House of Commons, you may recollect that a member was laughed at, for asserting that if men expected women to reform, they ought to begin by reforming themselves. For my part, I conceive the idea to be perfectly just. Infidelity on the woman's side is, unquestionably, more hurtful to society than a failure of the same sort on the man's; yet, is it reasonable to suppose women to be so exempt from human frailty, as to preserve their chastity inviolate, when men set them so bad an example?
Paris, April 3, 1802.
Circumstances have at length occurred to recall me to England, and as this will, probably, be the last letter that you will receive from me before I have the pleasure of taking you by the hand, I shall devote it to miscellaneous subjects, and, without studying any particular arrangement, speak of them at random, just as they chance to present themselves.
A fellow-creature, whose care-worn countenance and emaciated body claimed a mite from any one who had a mite to bestow, had taken his stand at the gate-way just now as I entered. The recollection of his tale of woe being uppermost in my mind, I begin with
MENDICANTS.
In spite of the calamities which all great political convulsions never fail to engender, the streets of Paris present not at this day that vast crowd of beggars, covered with rags and vermin, by which they were formerly infested. This is to be attributed to the partial adoption of measures for employing the poor; and, doubtless, when receptacles come to be established here, according to the salutary plans introduced into Bavaria by Count Rumford, mendicity will be gradually annihilated.
But, if beggars have decreased in Paris, this is not the case with
PAWNBROKERS.
They seem to have multiplied in proportion to the increase of the number of opportunities afforded for gambling in the lottery, that is, in the ratio of 21 to 2.[1]
Formerly, in addition to the public establishment called theMont de Piété, commissioners were appointed, in different parts of the town, to take in pledges, and make advances on them previously to their being lodged in that grand repository. There, money was lent on them at an interest of 10 per cent; and if the article pledged was not redeemed by a certain time, it was sold by public auction, and, the principal and interest being deducted, the surplus was paid to the holder of the duplicate. Thus the iniquitous projects of usury were defeated; and the rich, as well as the poor, went to borrow at theMont de Piété. To obtain a sum for the discharge of a debt of honour, a dutchess here deposited her diamond ear-rings; while a washerwoman slipped off her petticoat, and pawned it to satisfy the cravings of hunger.
At the present moment, theMont de Piétéstill exists; but, doubtless, on a different plan; for Paris abounds withMaisons de prêt. On the eve of particular days in each month when the shopkeepers' promissory notes become due, they here pledge articles in order to procure the means of making good their payments. But the crowd of borrowers is the greatest on the days immediately preceding those on which the Paris lottery is drawn; the hucksters, marketwomen, porters, retailers of fruit, and unfortunate females, then deposit their wearing apparel at these dens of rapacity, that they may acquire a share of a ticket, the price of which is fixed so low as to be within the purchase of the poorest classes.
The lottery being over, till the next drawing, those persons think no more of their effects, provided they are within two or three of the winning numbers; and thus they gamble away almost every thing belonging to them, even to the very clothes on their back. This is so true that it is not, I understand, at all uncommon in Paris, for a Cyprian nymph to send her last robe to the nearest pawnbroker's, in order to have the chance of a prize in the lottery, and to lie in bed till she obtains the means of purchasing another. Nor is this by far the worst part of the story.
The too credulous followers of Fortune, on finding all their hopes of success blasted, frequently seek a termination of their misery by suicide: and a person of veracity, who made a point of visiting theMornealmost daily, assured me that he always knew when the lottery had just been drawn, by the increased number of dead bodies, there exposed, of persons who had put an end to their existence.
These are facts shocking to relate; but, if legislators will promote gaming, either by lotteries, or in any other manner, such are the consequences to be expected.
Another article which has multiplied prodigiously in Paris, since the revolution, consists of
NEWSPAPERS.
In 1789, the only daily papers in circulation here were theJournal de Parisand thePetites Affiches; for theGazette de Franceappeared only twice a week. From that period, these ephemeral productions increased so rapidly, that, under the generic name ofJournaux, upwards of six thousand, bearing different titles, have appeared in France, five hundred of which were published in Paris.
At this time, here is a great variety of daily papers. The most eminent of these are well known in England; such as theMoniteur, the only official paper, the sale of which is said to be 20,000 per day; that of theJournal de Paris, 16,000; of thePubliciste, 14,000; of theJournal des Débats, 12,000; of theJournal des Défenseurs de la Patrie, 10,000; and of theClé du Cabinet, 6,000. The sale of the others is comparatively trifling, with the exception of thePetites Affiches, of which the number daily sold exceeds 30,000.
In addition to theJournals, which I mentioned in my letter of the 16th of December last, the most esteemed are theMagazin Encyclopédique, edited by MILLIN, theAnnales de Chimie, theJournal des Arts, theJournal Polytechnique, theJournal des Mines, theJournal général des Inventions et des Découvertes, &c. I stop here, because it would be useless to attempt to send you a complete list of all the French periodical publications, as, in the flux and reflux of this literary ocean, such a list cannot long be expected to preserve its exactness.
Among the conveniences which this city affords in an enviable degree and in great abundance, are
BATHS.
Those of Paris, of every description, still retain their former pre-eminence. The most elegant are theBains Chinoison the north Boulevards, where, for three francs, you may enjoy the pleasure of bathing in almost as much luxury as an Asiatic monarch. Near theTempleand at theVauxhall d'Été, also on the old Boulevards, are baths, where you have the advantage of a garden to saunter in after bathing.
On the Seine are several floating baths, the most remarkable of which are theBains Vigier, at the foot of thePont National. The vessel containing them is upwards of 200 feet in length by about 60 in breadth, and presents two tiers of baths, making, on both decks, 140 in number. It is divided in the middle by a large transparent plate of glass, which permits the eye to embrace its whole extent; one half of which is appropriated to men; the other, to women. On each deck are galleries, nine feet wide, ornamented with much architectural taste. On the exterior part of the vessel is a promenade, decorated with evergreens, orange and rose trees, jasmines, and other odoriferous plants. By means of a hydraulic machine, worked by two horses, in an adjoining barge, the reservoirs can be emptied and filled again in less than an hour.
TheBains Vigierare much frequented, as you may suppose from their daily consumption of two cords of wood for fuel. Tepid baths, at blood-heat, are, at present, universally used by the French ladies, and, apparently, with no small advantage. The price of one of these is no more than 30sous, linen, &c. included.
If you want to learn to swim, you may be instructed here in that necessary art, or merely take a look at those acquiring it, at the
SCHOOL OF NATATION.
The Seine is the school where the lessons are given, and the police takes care that the pupils infringe not the laws of decency.
It is certain that, as far back as the year 1684, means were proposed in London to transmit signs to a great distance in a very short space of time, and that, towards the close of the seventeenth century, a member of the Academy of Sciences made, near Paris, several minute experiments on the same subject. The paper read at the Royal Society of London, and the detail of the experiments made in France, seem to suggest nearly the same means as those now put in practice, by the two nations, with respect to
TELEGRAPHS.
The construction of those in France differs from ours in consisting of one principal pole, and two arms, moveable at the ends. There are four in Paris; one, on theLouvre, which corresponds with Lille; another, on thePlace de la Concorde, with Brest; a third, on one of the towers of the church ofSt. Sulpice, with Strasburg; and the fourth, on the other tower of the said church, which is meant to extend to Nice, but is as yet carried no farther than Dijon. To and from Lille, which is 120 leagues distant from Paris, intelligence is conveyed and received in six minutes, three for the question, and three for the answer.
Yet, however expeditious this intercourse may seem, it is certain that the telegraphic language may be abridged, by preserving these machines in their present state, but at the same time allotting to each of the signs a greater portion of idea, without introducing any thing vague into the signification.
Independently of the public curiosities, which I have described, Paris contains several
PRIVATE COLLECTIONS.
Among them, those most deserving of attention are:
ADANSON'S cabinet of Natural History,Rue de la Victoire.
CASAS' cabinet of Models and Drawings,Rue de Seine, Faubourg St. Germain.
CHARLES'S cabinet of Physics,Palais National des Sciences et des Arts.
DENON'S cabinet of Drawings, &c.Hôtel de Bouillon,Rue J. J. Rousseau.
FOUQUET'S cabinet of Models of Antique Monuments,Rue de Lille,F. S. G.
HAUPOIS' cabinet of Mechanics.
SUË'S cabinet of Anatomy,Rue du Luxembourg.
TERSAN'S cabinet of Antiquities,Cloître St. Honoré.
VAILLANT'S cabinet of Birds, &c.Rue du Sépulchre,F. S. G.