Paris, January 10, 1802.
Going the other day to call on M. S----i, I stopped by the way, to examine an edifice which, when I first visited Paris in 1784, engaged no small share of public attention. It was, at that time, one of the principal objects pointed out to the curiosity of strangers. At one period of the revolution, you will, doubtless, recollect the frequent mention made of the
PANTHEON.
Conceive my surprise, on learning that this stately building, after having employed the hands of so many men, for the best part of half a century, was not only still unfinished; but had threatened approaching ruin. Yes—like the Gothic abbey at Fonthill, it would, by all accounts, have fallen to the ground, without the aid of vandalism, had not prompt and efficacious measures been adopted, to avert the impending mischief.
This monument, originally intended for the reception of the shrine of St. Geneviève, once the patroness of the Parisians, is situated on an eminence, formerly calledMont St. Étienne, to the left of the top of theRue St. Jacques, near thePlace de l'Estrapade. It was begun under the reign of Lewis XV, who laid the first stone on the 6th of September, 1764. During the American war, the works were suspended; but, early in the year 1784, they were resumed with increasing activity. The sculpture of this church already presented many attributes analogous to its object, when, in 1793, it was converted into a Pantheon.
The late M. SOUFFLOT furnished the plan for the church, which, in point of magnificence, does honour both to the architect and to the nation.
Its form is a Greek cross, three hundred and forty feet in length by two hundred and fifty in breadth. The porch, which is an imitation of that of the Pantheon at Rome, consists of a peristyle of twenty-two pillars of the Corinthian order. Eighteen of these are insulated, and are each five feet and a half in diameter by fifty-eight in height, including their base and capital. They support a pediment, which combines the boldness of the Gothic with the beauty of the Greek style. This pediment bears the following inscription:
"AUX GRANDS HOMMES,LA PATRIE RECONNAISSANTE."
In the delirium of the revolutionary fever, when great crimes constituted great men, this sanctuary of national gratitude was polluted. MARAT, that man of blood, was, to use the modern phraseology,pantheonized, that is, interred in the Pantheon. When the delirium had, in some measure, subsided, and reason began to resume her empire, he wasdispantheonized; and, by means of quick-lime, his canonized bones were confounded with the dust. This apotheosis will ever be a blot in the page of the history of the revolution.
However, it operated as a check on the inconsiderate zeal of hot-brained patriots in bestowing the honours of the Pantheon on the undeserving. MIRABEAU was, consequently,dispantheonized; and, in all probability, this temple will, in future, be reserved for the ashes of men truly great; legislators whose eminent talents and virtues have benefited their fellow-citizens, or warriors, who, by distinguishing themselves in their country's cause, have really merited that country's gratitude.
The interior of this temple consists of four naves, in whose centre rises an elegant dome, which, it is said, is to be painted in fresco by DAVID. The naves are decorated by one hundred and thirty fluted pillars, also of the Corinthian order, supporting an entablature, which serves as a base for loftytribunes, bordered by stone balustrades. These pillars are three feet and a half in diameter by nearly twenty-eight feet in height.
The inside of the dome is incircled by sixteen Corinthian pillars, standing at an equal distance, and lighted by glazed apertures in part of the intercolumniations. They support a cupola, in the centre of which is an opening, crowned by another cupola of much more considerable elevation.
To survey the interior of the Pantheon, in its present state, is rather a matter of eager curiosity than of pleasing enjoyment. The precautions taken to prevent the fall of the whole building, which was apprehended from the almost tottering state of the dome, have necessitated the erection of such a quantity of scaffolding, that it is no easy task to gain an uninterrupted view of its majestic pillars, of the delicate and light foliage of its capitals, and of its proud and triple canopy. I mounted the ladders, and braved the dust of stone and plaster, amidst the echoing sound of saws, chisels, and mallets, at work in different directions.
Mercier is said to have offended several of the partisans of Voltaire by observing that, through a strange inconsistency, the constant flatterer not only of royalty in general, but of kings in particular, and of all the great men and vices of the age in which he lived, here shares the gratitude of a republic with theman of nature and truth, as Jean-Jacques is styled on his sepulchral monument. Thus, in the first instance, says he, a temple, consecrated to stern republican virtue, contains the remains of a great poet who could not strike superstition, without wounding morals.—Unquestionably, thePucelleis a work, which, like a blight on a promising crop, has committed incalculable ravage among the rising generation. Notwithstanding the numerous inscriptions which now adorn the tomb of Voltaire, perhaps, at some future distant period, he may experience the fate of Mirabeau, and bedispantheonized.
But why meddle with the cold remains of any great genius? Would it not have been more rational to inscribe the name of Rousseau in this national temple, and leave his corpse to rot undisturbed, in theIle des Peupliers, at Ermenonville.
Though circumstances prevented me from ascending to the dome, you will, no doubt, expect me to say something of its exterior architecture. It represents a circular temple, formed by thirty-four pillars, like those of the interior, of the Corinthian order, and each, base and capital included, thirty-four feet in height by three feet and one third in diameter. This colonnade is supported by a circular stylobate, which rests on an octagon base, and is surrounded by a gallery, bordered by an iron balustrade. The cupola, rising above the attic, would appear crushed, were not a stranger apprised that the pedestal on the top is to be surmounted by a bronze figure of Fame, twenty-eight feet in height, and weighing fifty-two thousand pounds. The pedestal is encircled by a second gallery at an elevation of one hundred and sixty-six feet, to reach which you ascend a flight of four hundred and sixty stone steps. As the Pantheon itself stands on a considerable eminence, the prospect from this gallery is extensive and commanding.
This sumptuous edifice may truly be said to exhibit a monument of the weakness of man. Like him, before arrived at maturity, it is attacked by indisposition. The architects, like so many physicians, were not for some time agreed as to the seat of the evil. Each proposed his means of cure as the most infallible; But all coincided in one opinion, that the danger was imminent. Their skill has been exerted, and, no doubt, with effect; for all apprehension of further mischief is now removed.
When I was taking a last look at this proud temple, I could not help regretting that one half of the money already expended on it, had not been appropriated to the erection of airy hospitals in the different quarters of this populous city. Any one who had formerly visited theHôtel-Dieuin Paris would, I am confident, have participated in this sentiment.
What strange fatality impels men to persevere in such unprofitable erections? This was the first question which suggested itself to me, on getting fairly out of the Pantheon. Is it to gratify an excess of national vanity, or create a superior degree of admiration in the mind of foreigners? If so, the aim is missed: for, as majesty, fallen from the pinnacle of power, becomes more interesting, so do ruins inspire greater veneration than the most pompous structure, towering in the splendour of its perfection. Experience tells us that every truncated pillar, every remnant, in short, of past grandeur, rouses attention, and speaks home to the contemplative mind; while these modern edifices, however firmly erect on their base, excite, comparatively speaking, but a feeble interest. In future ages, perhaps, when the Pantheon of Paris shall be prostrate on the ground, and the wreck of its stately dome be overrun with moss and ivy, it may, probably, attract as much notice as the far-tamed temple of Jupiter-Ammon.
P.S. On the evening of the 8th, BONAPARTE left Paris for Lyons, where TALLEYRAND, Minister for foreign affairs, has been for some days preparing for the great event which is expected to take place. When a public measure is in agitation, the result is generally anticipated by the eagerness of mankind; and whispers the least audible are magnified into authentic information. Those even who may be presumed to derive their intelligence from the best sources, not unfrequently misconceive what they have heard, and consequently mislead others. I will not, however, mislead you, by repeating any of the rumours in circulation here: in a short time, theMoniteurwill, no doubt, explain the real object of this journey.
Paris, January 12,1802.
As no city in Europe presents so many advantages as this for the cultivation of literature, arts, and sciences, it is not surprising that it should contain great numbers of literati, artists, and men of science, who form themselves into different associations. Independently of the National Institute, Paris can boast of several other
SCIENTIFIC SOCIETIES.
The following are the names of those held in most esteem.
SOCIÉTÉ PHILOTECHNIQUE.SOCIÉTÉ LIBRE DES SCIENCES, LETTRES, ET ARTS.ATHÉNÉE (ci-devantLYCÉE) DES ARTS.SOCIÉTÉ PHILOMATIQUE.SOCIÉTÉ ACADÉMIQUE DES SCIENCES.SOCIÉTÉ GALVANIQUE.SOCIÉTÉ DES BELLES-LETTRES.ACADÉMIE DE LÉGISLATION.OBSERVATEURS DE L'HOMME.ATHÉNÉE DE PARIS,ci-devantLYCÉE RÉPUBLICAIN.
Though, in all these societies, you may meet with a great number of estimable men, many of whose names may be found in the major part of them, yet that which holds the first rank in the public esteem, as well from the respectability of the members of whom it is composed, as from the proofs of talents which are necessary in order to be admitted into it, is the
SOCIÉTÉ PHILOTECHNIQUE.
Indeed, almost all its members are men whose works hove rendered them celebrated throughout Europe. Hitherto, with the exception of the National Institute, this is the only society to which the government has granted the honour of receiving it as a body, or by deputation, on solemn occasions; and by that alone, it hasnationalized, at least tacitly, its institution. It is also the only one which, to the present moment, has preserved the right of holding its public and private sittings in theLouvre, since that palace has been ordered to be wholly evacuated. A report has been spread that the hall of theci-devantFrench Academy is destined for it; but as yet nothing is determined in this respect.
Its number is confined to sixty resident members, and twenty free associates or veterans. It is necessary to have been ten years among the resident members, in order to have a right to be admitted into the number of the twenty free associates, who enjoy prerogatives, without being bound to take a part in the labours of the society. This favour, however, may be granted to those who are for a time called from Paris by public functions, such as embassies, prefectures, &c.
This society meets on the 2nd, 12th and 22nd of every month at seven o'clock in the evening. Its various committees have their particular days for assembling. Its officers consist of a President, a Vice-President, a general and perpetual Secretary, a temporary Secretary, a Treasurer, and a Keeper of the records.
It holds its public sittings at noon on the last Sunday of the second month of everytrimestre, or quarter of the republican year, namely, Brumaire, Pluviôse, Floréal, and Thermidor.
It is composed of men of science, literati, and artists; but, resembling a family rather than a society, its principles of friendship admit of no classes. On the 19th of every month, it celebrates its foundation by an entertainment, at which its members have the liberty of introducing their friends.
It reckons among its members, in the Sciences, LACÉPÈDE, FOURCROY, CUVIER, GEOFFROY, ROTROU, RUEL, LE CLERC, GAUTHEROT, GINGEMBRE, &c.
In Literature, BOUFFLERS, LEGOUVÉ, ANDRIEUX, JOSEPH LAVALLÉE, MARIUS ARNAUD, SICARD, GUILLARD, GUICHARD, FRANÇOIS DE NEUFCHÂTEAU, MARGOURIT, RENAUD DE ST. JEAN-D'ANGELY, AMAURY and ALEXANDRE DUVAL, SAY, DESPRÉS, MARSOLIER, BROUSSE, DES FAUCHERETS, PIGAULT LE BRUN, POUGENS, FRAMERY, COLIN D'HARLEVILLE, LA CHABEAUSSIÈRE, &c.
In the Arts, viz. Painting, Sculpture, Architecture, Music, Declamation, and Dancing, REGNAULT, VALENCIENNES, SILVESTRE the Father, BARBIER the elder, BARTHELEMY, SAUVAGE, LETHIERS, PAJOU, CHAUDET, NORRY, LEGRAND, BIENAIMÉ, DECOTTE, director of the medals, FOUBERT, honorary administrator of the Central Museum, LA RIVE the tragedian, GOSSEC, MARTINI, LE SUEUR, GAVAUX, KALKBRUMER, ADRIEN the elder, GARDEL, &c.
The general and perpetual Secretary is JOSEPH LAVALLÉE.
SOCIÉTÉ, LIBRE DES. SCIENCES, LETTRES, ET ARTS.
It is composed of the junction of the oldMuseum of Parisand of the Society called that of theNine Sisters. It is divided into classes, is unlimited in the number of its members, admits associated correspondents and foreigners, holds its private sittings at theOratoirein theRue St. Honoré, every Thursday, and its public ones at six o'clock in the evening on the 9th of the first months of thetrimestre; namely, Vendémiaire, Nivôse, Germinal, and Messidor. Its officers consist of a President, taken alternately from the three classes, of two temporary Secretaries, a Treasurer, and a Keeper of the records.
This Society is modelled a little too much after the Institute, and it is easy to see that the former aims at rivaling the latter. Thisesprit de corps, which cannot well be perceived but by nice observers, has this advantage; it inspires a sort of emulation. But the society having neglected to limit the number of its members, and having thereby deprived itself of the means of appearing difficult as to admission, it thence results that its labours are not equally stamped with the impression of real talent; and if, in fact, it be ambitious, that is a great obstacle to its views.
ATHENÉE (ci-devantLYCÉE) DES ARTS.[1]
In imitation of our Royal Society, it comprises not only the sciences, literature, and the arts, but also arts and trades, mechanics, inventions, &c. Its members are not idle, and they are a useful body, as they excite emulation by medals, civic crowns, premiums, and rewards. Their number is considerable and unlimited; a condition which is an evil in the last-mentioned society, and a good in this, whose nature is not so much to shine as to encourage industry.
It was for a while in disrepute, because DESAUDRAY, the director who founded it, exercised over it a tyrannic sway; it has succeeded in getting rid of him, and, since then, several persons of merit, who had before kept aloof, aspire to the honour of being admitted into it.
For some time past it has adopted a custom, too obsequious and absurd, of choosing none but ministers for its Presidents. By this, it exposes its liberty and its opinion, and gives itself chains, the weight of which it will feel some day, when too late to shake them off.
It holds its general sittings at theOratoireevery Monday, when it hears the reports of its numerous committees, who have their particular days for meeting. Its public sittings are held at the same place, but at no fixed periods.
Its officers consist of a President, a Vice-President, two Secretaries, three Conservators, a Treasurer, and a Keeper of the records.
It has associated correspondents throughout Europe.
SOCIÉTÉ PHILOMATIQUE.
It is wholly devoted to natural, physical, and mathematical sciences. It assembles on Fridays, in theRue d'Anjou,Faubourg St. Germain. It has no public sittings; but is merely a private meeting of men of learning, who publish once a month abulletinvery important to the sciences, and to be commended, besides, for its composition, perspicuity, and conciseness. This publication is of a 4to size, consists of a single sheet of print, and has for its titleBulletin des Sciences par la Société Philomatique.
SOCIÉTÉ ACADÉMIQUE DES SCIENCES.
This Society is recently formed: It employs itself on the Sciences only; has not yet held any public sittings, nor published any memoirs. Consequently, nothing can yet be said of its labours, or interior regulation.
SOCIÉTÉ GALVANIQUE.
Its name indicates the sole object of its labours. It is newly formed, and composed of men eminently distinguished in Medicine and Physics. It has called in a few literati. Its officers are the same in the other Societies. It holds its sittings at theOratoireevery Tuesday at eleven o'clock in the morning. Its labours are pursued with ardour and it has already made several important experiments. It announces zeal, and talents, as well as-great defects, and aspires to fame, perhaps, a little too much; but it may still maintain its ground.
SOCIÉTÉ DES BELLES-LETTRES.
It is somewhat frivolous. Public sittings every month. Half poetry, half music. It meets at theOratoireevery Wednesday at seven o'clock in the evening. It arose from a small emigration of theLycée des Arts, at this dayl'Athénée, during the tyranny of DESAUDRAY, and originally bore the title ofRosati. A few men of merit, a great number of youths, and some useless members. Too many futile readings, too many fugitive verses, too many little rivalships. It is faulty on account of its regulations, the basis of which is weak, and it exhibits too much parsimony in its expenses. It has not enough of that public consideration which perpetuates establishments of this description. Under such circumstances, it is to be apprehended that it will not support itself.
ACADÉMIE DE LÉGISLATION.
This is a fine institution, recently founded. It is composed of the most celebrated lawyers, and a few distinguished literati. It meets on the first of every month, gives every day courses of lectures on all the branches of jurisprudence to a great number of pupils; has established conferences, where these pupils form themselves to the art of speaking, by pleading on given points of law. It publishes two periodical works every month, the one entitled,Bulletin de Jurisprudenceand the other,Annales de Jurisprudence.The preliminary discourse of the first volume of the latter is by JOSEPH LAVALLÉE, and has done him considerable credit. He is, however, a literary character, and not a lawyer.
This academy has officers of the same description as those of the other Societies. Senator LANJUINAIS is the President at this moment. It occupies theHôtel de la Briffe,Quai Voltaire.
SOCIÉTÉ DES OBSERVATEURS DE L'HOMME.
It assembles at theHôtel de la Rochefoucauld,Rue de Seine,Faubourg St. Germain,and is composed of very estimable men. Its labours, readings, and discussions are too metaphysical. In point of officers, it is formed like the other Societies. Citizen JUAFFRET is perpetual Secretary.
ATHÉNÉE DE PARIS,ci-devantLYCÉE RÉPUBLICAIN.
This society has survived the revolutionary storm, having been established as far back as the year 1787. According to theprogrammepublished for the present year 1802, its object is to propagate the culture of the sciences and literature; to make known the useful improvements in the arts; to afford pleasure to persons of all ages, by presenting to every one such attractions as may suit his taste, and to unite in literary conferences the charms of the mildest of human occupations.
To strangers, theAthénéeholds out many advantages. On being presented by one of the founders or a subscriber, and paying the annual subscription of 96 francs, you receive an admission-ticket, which, however, is not transferrable. This entitles you to attend several courses of lectures by some of the most eminent professors, such as FOURCROY, CUVIER, LA HARPE, DÉGÉRANDO, SUË, HASSENFRATZ, LEGRAND, &c. The subjects for the year are as follows:
Experimental Physics, Chymistry, Natural History, Anatomy and Physiology, Botany, Technology or the application of sciences to arts and trades, Literature, Moral Philosophy, Architecture, together with the English, Italian, and German languages.
The lectures are always delivered twice, and not unfrequently thrice a day, in a commodious room, provided with all the apparatus necessary for experiments. On a Sunday, an account of the order in which they are to be given in the course of the following week, is sent to every subscriber. There is no half-subscription, nor any admissiongratis; but ladies pay no more than 48 francs for their annual ticket.
Independently of so many sources of instruction, theAthénée, as is expressed in theprogramme, really affords to subscribers the resources and charms of a numerous and select society. The apartments, which are situated near thePalais du Tribunat, in theRue du Lycée, are open to them from nine o'clock in the morning to eleven at night. Several rooms are appropriated to conversation; one of which, provided with a piano-forte and music, serves as a rendezvous for the ladies. The subscribers have free access to the library, where they find the principal literary and political journals and papers, both French and others, as well as every new publication of importance. A particular room, in which silence is duly observed, is set apart for reading.
Footnote 1: This Society has laid aside the title ofLyceumsince the decree of the government, which declares that this denomination is to be applied only to the establishments for public instruction.Return to text
Paris, January 13, 1802.
I have spoken to you of palaces, museum, churches, bridges, public gardens, playhouses, &c. as they have chanced to fall under my observation; but there still remain houses of more than one description which I have not yet noticed, though they are certainly more numerous here than in any other city in Europe. I shall now speak of
COFFEEHOUSES.
Their number in Paris has been reckoned to exceed seven hundred; but they are very far from enjoying a comparative degree of reputation. Celebrity is said to be confined to about a dozen only, which have risen into superior consequence from various causes. Except a few resorted to by the literati or wits of the day, or by military officers, they are, in general, the rendezvous of the idle, and the refuge of the needy. This is so true, that a frequenter of a coffeehouse scarcely ever lights a fire in his own lodging during the whole winter. No sooner has he quitted his bed, and equipped himself for the day, than he repairs to his accustomed haunt, where he arrives about ten o'clock in the morning, and remains till eleven at night, the hour at which coffeehouses are shut up, according to the regulation of the police. Not unfrequently persons of this description make a cup of coffee, mixed with milk, with the addition of a penny-roll, serve for dinner; and, be their merit what it may, they are seldom so fortunate as to be consoled by the offer of a rich man's table.
Here, no person who wishes to be respected, thinks of lounging in a coffeehouse, because it not only shews him to be at a loss to spend his time, which may fairly be construed into a deficiency of education or knowledge, but also implies an absolute want of acquaintance with what is termed good company. Certain it is that, with the exceptions before-mentioned, a stranger must not look for good company in a coffee-house in Paris; if he does, he will find himself egregiously disappointed.
Having occasion to see an advertisement in an English newspaper, I went a few evenings ago to one of the most distinguished places of this sort in thePalais du Tribunat: the room was extremely crowded. In five minutes, one of the company whom I had seen taking out his watch on my entrance, missed it; and though many of the by-standers afterwards said they had no doubt that a person of gentlemanly exterior, who stood near him, had taken it, still it would have been useless to charge that person with the fact, as the watch had instantly gone through many hands, and the supposed accomplices had been observed to decamp with uncommon expedition. What diverted me not a little, was that the person suspected coolly descanted on the imprudence of taking out a valuable watch in a crowd of strangers; and, after declaiming the most virulent terms against the dishonesty of mankind; he walked away very quietly. Notwithstanding his appearance and manner were so much in his favour, he had no sooner affected his retreat than some subalterns of the police, not thief-takers, butmouchardsor spies, some of whom are to be met with in every principal coffeehouse, cautioned the master of the house against suffering his presence in future, as he was a notorious adventurer.
You must not, however, imagine from this incident, that a man cannot enter a coffeehouse in Paris, without being a sufferer from the depredations of the nimble-fingered gentry. Such instances are not, I believe, very frequent here; and though it is universally allowed that this capital abounds with adventurers and pickpockets of every description, I am of opinion that there is far less danger to be apprehended from them than from their archetypes in London. Everyone knows that, in our refined metropolis, a lady of fashion cannot give a ball or a rout, without engaging Mr. Townsend, or some other Bow street officer, to attend in her ball, in order that his presence may operate as a check on the audacity of knavish intruders.
The principle coffeehouses here are fitted up with taste and elegance. Large mirrors form no inconsiderable part of their decoration. There are no partitions to divide them into boxes. The tables are of marble; the benches and stools are covered with Utrecht velvet. In winter, an equal degree of warmth is preserved in them by means of a large stove in the centre, which, from its figure, is an ornamental piece of furniture; while, in summer, the draught of air which it maintains, contributes not a little to cool the room. In the evening, they are lighted byquinquetsin a brilliant manner.
Formerly, every coffeehouse in Paris used to have its chief orator; in those of the more remote part of the suburbs you might, I am informed, hear a journeyman tailor or shoemaker hold forth on various topics. With the revolution, politics were introduced; but, at the present day, that is a subject which seems to be entirely out of the question.
In some coffeehouses, where literati and critics assemble, authors and their works are passed in review, and to each is assigned his rank and estimation. When one of these happens to have been checked in his dramatic career by anundiscerningpublic, he becomes, in his turn, the most merciless of critics.
In many of these places, the "busy hum" is extremely tiresome; German, Italian, Spanish, Dutch, Danish, Russ, together with English and French, all spoken at the same time and in the same room, make a confusion of tongues as great almost as that which reigned at Babel. In addition to the French newspapers, those of England and Germany may be read; but as they are often bespoke by half a dozen persons in succession, it requires no small degree of patience to wait while these quidnuncs are conning over every paragraph.
Independently of coffee, tea, and chocolate, ices, punch and liqueurs may be had in the principal coffeehouses; but nothing in the way of dinner or supper, except at the subterraneous ones in thePalais du Tribunat, though there are many of a rather inferior order where substantial breakfasts in the French style are provided. Whether Voltaire's idea be just, that coffee clears the brain, and stimulates the genius, I will not pretend to determine: but if this be really the case, it is no wonder that the French are so lively and full of invention; for coffee is an article of which they make an uncommon consumption. Indeed, if Fame may be credited, the prior of a monastery in Arabia, on the word of a shepherd who had remarked that his goats were particularly frisky when they had eaten the berries of the coffee-tree, first made a trial of their virtue on the monks of his convent, in order to prevent them from sleeping during divine service.
Be this as it may, Soliman Aga, ambassador of the Porte to Lewis XIV, in 1669, was the first who introduced the use of coffee in Paris. During a residence of ten years in the French capital, he had conciliated the friendship of many persons of distinction, and the ladies in particular took a pleasure in visiting him. According to the custom of his country, he presented them with coffee; and this beverage, however disgusting from its colour and bitterness, was well received, because it was offered by a foreigner, in beautiful china cups, on napkins ornamented with gold fringe. On leaving the ambassador's parties, each of the guests, in the enthusiasm of novelty, cried up coffee, and took means to procure it. A few years after, (in 1672) one Paschal, an Armenian, first opened, at theFoire St. Germain, and, afterwards on theQuai de l'École, a shop similar to those which he had seen in the Levant, and called his new establishmentcafé. Other Levantines followed his example; but, to fix the fickle Parisian, required a coffeeroom handsomely decorated. PROCOPE acted on this plan, and his house was successively frequented by Voltaire, Piron, Fontenelle, and St. Foix.
As drinking, which was then in vogue, was pursued less on account of the pleasure which it afforded, than for the sake of society, the French made no hesitation in deserting the tavern for the coffeehouse. But, in making this exchange, it has been remarked, by the observers of the day, that they have not only lost their taste for conviviality, but are become more reserved and insincere than their forefathers, whose hearts expanded by the free use of the generous juice of the grape; thus verifying the old maxim,in vino veritas.
No small attraction to a Parisian coffeehouse is a pretty female to preside in the bar, and in a few I have seen very handsome women; though this post is commonly assigned to the mistress or some confidential female relation. Beset as they are from morn to night by an endless variety of flatterers, the virtue of a Lucretia could scarcely resist such incessant temptation. In general, they are coquetish; but, without coquetry, would they be deemed qualified for their employment?
Before the revolution, I remember, in theci-devant Palais Royal, a coffeehouse calledLe café mécanique. The mechanical contrivance, whence it derived its name, was of the most simple nature. The tables stood on hollow cylinders, the tops of which, resembling a salver with its border, were level with the plane of the table, but connected with the kitchen underneath. In the bar sat a fine, showy lady, who repeated your order to the attendants below, by means of a speaking-trumpet. Presently the superficial part of the salver, descended through the cylinder, and reascending immediately, the article called for made its appearance. Thiscafé méchaniquedid not long remain in being, as it was not found to answer the expectation of the projector. But besides six or seven coffeehouses on the ground-floor of thePalais du Tribunat, there are also several subterraneous ones now open.
In one of these, near theThéâtre Français,is a little stage, on which farces, composed for the purpose, are representedgratis. In another, is an orchestra consisting entirely of performers belonging to the National Institution of the Blind. In a third, on the north side of the garden, are a set of musicians, both vocal and instrumental, who apparently never tire; for I am told they never cease to play and sing, except to retune their instruments. Here a female now and then entertains the company with a solo on the French horn. To complete the sweet melody, a merry-andrew habitedà la sauvage, "struts his hour" on a place about six feet in length, and performs a thousand ridiculous antics, at the same time flogging and beating alternately a large drum, the thunder-like sound of which is almost loud enough to give every auditor's brain a momentary concussion.
A fourth subterraneous coffeehouse in thePalais du Tribunatis kept by a ventriloquist, and here many a party are amused by one of their number being repeatedly led into a mistake, in consequence of being ignorant of the faculty possessed by the master of the house. This man seems to have no small share of humour, and exercises it apparently much to his advantage. In three visits which I paid to his cellar, the crowd was so great that it was extremely difficult to approach the scene of action, so as to be able to enjoy the effect of his ludicrous deceptions.
A friend of mine, well acquainted with the proper time for visiting every place of public resort in Paris, conducted me to all these subterraneous coffeehouses on a Sunday evening, when they were so full that we had some difficulty to find room to stand, for to find a seat was quite impossible. Such a diversity of character I never before witnessed in the compass of so small a space. However, all was mirth and good-humour. I know not how they contrive to keep these places cool in summer; for, in the depth of winter, a more than genial warmth prevails in them, arising from the confined breath of such a concourse. On approaching the stair-case, if the orchestra be silent, the entrance of these regions of harmony is announced by a heat which can be compared only to the true Sirocco blast such as you have experienced at Naples.
Paris, January 15, 1802.
As after one of those awful and violent convulsions of nature which rend the bosom of the earth, and overthrow the edifices standing on its surface, men gradually repair the mischief it has occasioned, so the French, on the ruins of the ancient colleges and universities, which fell in the shock of the revolution, have from time to time reared new seminaries of learning, and endeavoured to organize, on a more liberal and patriotic scale, institutions for
PUBLIC INSTRUCTION.
The vast field which the organization of public instruction presents to the imagination has, as may be, supposed, given birth to a great number of systems more or less practicable; but, hitherto, it should seem that political oscillations have imprinted on all the new institutions a character of weakness which, if it did not absolutely threaten speedy ruin, announced at least that they would not be lasting. When the germs of discord prevailed, it was not likely that men's minds should be in that tranquil state necessary for the reestablishment of public seminaries, to lay the foundations of which, in a solid and durable manner, required the calm of peace and the forgetfulness of misfortune.
After the suppression of the colleges and universities existing under the monarchy, and to which theCollège de Francein Paris is the sole exception, the National Convention, by a decree of the 24th of Nivôse, year III (14th of January 1795) establishedNormalSchools throughout the Republic. Professors and teachers were appointed to them; and it was intended that, in these nurseries, youth should be prepared for the higher schools, according to the new plan of instruction. However, in less than a year, theseNormalSchools were shut up; and, by a law of the 3d of Brumaire, year IV (25th of October, 1796) Primary, Secondary, and Central Schools were ordered to be established in every department.
In the Primary Schools, reading, writing, and arithmetic formed the chief part of the instruction. Owing to various causes, the Secondary Schools, I understand, were never established. In the Central Schools, the internal regulation was to be as follows.
The whole of the instruction was divided into three classes or sections. In the first, were taught drawing, natural history, and ancient and modern languages. In the second, mathematics, physics, and chymistry. In the third, universal grammar, the fine arts, history, and legislation. Into the first class the pupils were to be received at the age of twelve; into the second, at fourteen; and into the third, at sixteen. In each Central School were to be a public library, a botanic garden, and an apparatus of chymical and physical instruments. The professors were to be examined and chosen by aJury of Instruction, and that choice confirmed by the administration of the department.
The government, in turning its attention to the present state of the public schools, and comparing them with the wants and wishes of the inhabitants of the Republic, has found that the Primary Schools have been greatly neglected, and that the Central Schools have not been of so much utility as was expected. Alarmed at the consequences likely to be produced by a state of things which leaves a great part of the present generation destitute of the first rudiments of knowledge, the government has felt that the reorganization of these schools is become an urgent duty, and that it is impossible to delay longer to carry it into execution.
TheSpecialSchools of Arts and Sciences are mostly confined to Paris. The other rich and populous cities of the Republic have undoubtedly a claim to similar institutions. There is at present no School of Jurisprudence, and but one of Medicine.
The celebrated FOURCROY[1] has been some time engaged in drawing up a plan for the improvement of public instruction. In seeking a new mode of teaching appropriate to the present state of knowledge and to the genius of the French nation, he has thought it necessary to depart from the beaten track. Enlightened by the past, he has rejected the ancient forms of the universities, whose philosophy and acquirements, for half a century past, called for reformation, and no longer kept pace with the progress of reason. In the Central Schools he saw institutions few in number, and too uniformly organized for departments varying in population, resources, and means. He has, nevertheless, taken what was good in each of these two systems successively adopted, and removed their abuses. Without losing sight of the success due to good masters and skilful professors, he has, above all, thought of the means of insuring the success of the new schools by the competition of the scholars. He is of opinion that to found literary and scientific institutions on a solid basis, it is necessary to begin by attaching to them pupils, and filling the classes with students, in order not to run the risk of filling them with professors. Such is the object which FOURCROY wishes to attain, by creating a number of national pensions, so considerable that their funds, when distributed in the Lyceums, may be sufficient for their support.
Agreeably to these ideas, the following is said to be the outline of the new organization of public instruction. It is to be divided into four classes; viz. Primary Schools, Secondary Schools, Lyceums, and Special Schools.
PRIMARY SCHOOLS.
A Primary School may belong to severalcommunesat a time, according to the population and the locality of thesecommunes.
The teachers are to be chosen by the mayors and municipal councils.
The under-prefects are to be specially charged with the organization of these schools, and give an account of their state, once a month, to the prefects.
SECONDARY SCHOOLS.
Every school established in thecommuneor kept by private individuals, in which are taught the Latin and French languages, the first principles of geography, history and mathematics, is to be considered as a Secondary School.
The government promises to encourage the establishment of Secondary Schools, and reward the good instruction that shall be given in them, either by granting a spot for keeping them, or by the distribution of gratuitous places in the Lyceums, to such of the pupils as shall have distinguished themselves most, and by gratifications to the fifty masters who shall have qualified most pupils for the Lyceums.
No Secondary School is to be established without the authority of the government. The Secondary Schools and private schools, whose instruction is found superior to that of the Primary Schools, are to be placed under the superintendance and particular inspection of the prefects.
LYCEUMS.
There is to be one Lyceum at least in the district of every tribunal of appeal.
Here are to be taught ancient languages, rhetoric, logic, morality, and the elements of the mathematical and physical sciences. To these are to be added drawing, military exercises and the agreeable arts.
Instruction is to be given to the pupils placed here by the government, to those of the Secondary Schools admitted through competition, to those whose parents may put them here as boarders, and also to day-scholars.
In each Lyceum is to be a director, who is to have immediately under him a censor of studies, and an administrator who are all to be nominated by the First Consul.
In the former institutions, which are to be replaced by these new ones, a vigilant eye was not constantly kept on the state of the schools themselves, nor on that of the studies pursued in them. According to the new plan, three inspectors-general, appointed by the First Consul, are to visit them carefully, and report to the government their situation, success, and defects. This new supervisorship is to be, as it were, the key-stone of the arch, and to keep all the parts connected.
The fourth and highest degree of public instruction is to be acquired in the
SPECIAL SCHOOLS.
This is the name to be applied to those of the upper schools, where are particularly taught, and in the most profound manner, the useful sciences, jurisprudence, medicine, natural history, &c. But schools of this kind must not be confounded with the Schools for Engineers, Artillery, Bridges and Highways, Hydrography, &c. which,specialas they are essentially, in proportion to the sciences particularly taught in them, are better described, however, by the name ofSchools for Public Services, on account of the immediate utility derived from them by the government.
In addition to theSpecialSchools now in existence, which are to be kept up, new ones are to be established in the following proportion:
Ten Schools of Jurisprudence. These useful institutions, which have been abolished during the last ten years, are, by a new organization, to resume the importance that they had lost long before the revolution. The pupils are to be examined in a manner more certain for determining their capacity, and better calculated for securing the degree of confidence to be reposed in those men to whose knowledge and integrity individuals are sometimes forced to intrust their character and fortune.
Three new Schools of Medicine, in addition to the three at present in being. These also are to be newly organized in the most perfect manner.
The mathematical and physical sciences have made too great a progress in France, their application to the useful arts, to the public service, and to the general prosperity, has been too direct, says FOURCROY, for it not to be necessary to diffuse the taste for them, and to open new asylums where the advantages resulting from them may be extended, and their progress promoted. There are therefore to be four newSpecialSchools of Natural History, Physics, and Chymistry, and also aSpecialSchool devoted to transcendent Mathematics.
The mechanical and chymical arts, so long taught in several universities in Germany under the name oftechnology, are to have twoSpecialSchools, placed in the cities most rich in industry and manufactures. These schools, generally wished for, are intended to contribute to the national prosperity by the new methods which they will make known, the new instruments and processes which they will bring into use, the good models of machines which they will introduce, in a word, by every means that mechanics and chymistry can furnish to the arts.
A School of Public Economy, enlightened by Geography and History, is to be opened for those who may be desirous to investigate the principles of governments, and the art of ascertaining their respective interests. In this school it is proposed to unite such an assemblage of knowledge as has not yet existed in France.
To the three principal schools of the arts dependent on design, which are at present open, is to be added a fourth, become necessary since those arts bring back to France the pure taste of the beautiful forms, of which Greece has left such perfect models.
In each of the observatories now in use is to be a professor of astronomy, and the art of navigation is expected to derive new succour from these schools, most of which are placed in the principal sea-ports. A knowledge of the heavens and the study of the movements of the celestial bodies, which every year receives very remarkable augmentations from the united efforts of the most renowned geometricians and the most indefatigable observers, may have a great influence on the progress of civilization. On which account the French government is extremely eager to promote the science of astronomy.
The language of neighbouring nations, with whom the French have such frequent intercourse, is to be taught in several Lyceums, as being a useful introduction to commerce.
The art of war, of which modern times have given such great examples and such brilliant lessons, is to have itsspecialschool, and this school, on the plan which it is intended to be established by receiving as soldiers youths from the Lyceums, will form for the French armies officers equally skilful in theory as in practice.
This new Military School must not be confounded with the oldécole militaire. Independently of its not being destined for a particular class, which no longer exists in this country, the mode of instruction to be introduced there will render it totally different from the establishment which bore the same name.
It is to be composed of five hundred pupils, forming a battalion, and who are to be accustomed to military duty and discipline; it is to have at least ten professors, charged to teach all the theoretical, practical, and administrative parts of the art of war, as well as the history of wars and of great captains.
Of the five hundred pupils of the Special Military School, two hundred are to be taken from among the national pupils of the Lyceums, in proportion to their number in each of those schools, and three hundred from among the boarders and day-scholars, according to the examination which they must undergo at the end of their studies. Every year one hundred of the former are to be admitted, and two hundred of the latter. They are to be maintained two years in the Special Military School, at the expense of the Republic. These two years are to be considered as part of their military service.
According to the report made of the behaviour and talents of the pupils of the Military School, the government is to provide them with appointments in the army.
NATIONAL PUPILS.
There are to be maintained at the expense of the Republic six thousand four hundred pupils, as boarders in the Lyceums and Special Schools.
Out of these six thousand four hundred boarders, two thousand four hundred are to be chosen by the government from among the sons of officers and public functionaries of the judicial, administrative, or municipal order, who shall have served the Republic with fidelity, and for ten years only from among the children of citizens belonging to the departments united to France, although they have neither been military men nor public functionaries.
These two thousand four hundred pupils are to be at least nine years of age, and able to read and write.
The other four thousand are to be taken from double the number of pupils of the Secondary Schools, who, according to an examination where their talents are put in competition, are to be presented to the government.
The pupils, maintained in the Lyceums, are not to remain there more than six years at the expense of the nation. At the end of their studies, they are to undergo an examination, after which a fifth of them are to be placed in the different Special Schools according to their disposition, in order to be maintained there from two to four years at the expense of the Republic.
The annual cost of all these establishments is estimated at near eight millions of francs, (circa£336,000 sterling) which exceeds by at least two millions the amount of the charges of the public instruction for the few preceding years; but this augmentation, which will only take place by degrees, and at soonest in eighteen months, appears trifling, compared to the advantages likely to result from the new system.
Whenever this plan is carried into execution, what hopes may not France conceive from the youth of the rising generation, who, chosen from among those inclined to study, will, in all probability, rise to every degree of fame! The surest pledge of the success of the measure seems to consist in the spirit of emulation which is to be maintained, not only among the pupils, but even among the professors in the different schools; for emulation, in the career of literature, arts and sciences, leads to fame, and never fails to turn to the benefit of society; whereas jealousy, in the road of ambition and fortune, produces nothing but hatred and discord.
"Envy, to which th' ignoble mind's a slave,Is emulation in the learn'd and brave."
So much for the plan.[2] In your last letter, you desire that I will afford you some means of appreciating the essential difference between the old system of education pursued in France, and the basis on which public instruction is now on the point of being reorganised and established. You must be sensible that the comparison of the two modes, were I to enter deeply into the question, would far exceed the limits of a letter. But, though I have already extended this to a certain length, I can, in a few more lines, enable you to compare and judge, by informing you, from the best authority, what has been the spirit which has dictated the new organization.
There are very few men who know how to confine themselves within just bounds. Some yield to the mania of innovation, and imagine that they create only because they destroy and change. Others bend under the yoke of old habits. Some, solely because they have remained strangers to the sciences, would wish that youth should be employed only in the study of languages and literature. Others who, no doubt, forget that every learned man, who aims at a solid reputation, ought to sacrifice to the Muses, before he penetrates into the sanctuary of science, would wish education to be confined to the study of the exact sciences, and that youth should be occupied on things, before they are acquainted with words.
For the sole reason that the old system of instruction bore too exclusively on the study of the learned languages, it was to be feared that the new one, through a contrary excess, would proscribe the Greek and Latin. The study of these two languages, as FOURCROY has observed to me, is not merely useful to those who wish to acquire a thorough knowledge of the French, which has borrowed from them no small number of words, but it is only from the perusal of the great writers of antiquity, on whom the best among the moderns have formed themselves, that we can imbibe the sentiment of the beautiful, the taste, and the rectitude of mind equally necessary, whether we feel ourselves attracted towards eloquence or poetry, or raise ourselves to the highest conceptions of the physical or mathematical sciences.
At no time can the instruction given to a youth be otherwise considered than as a preparatory mean, whose object is to anticipate his taste and disposition, and enable him to enter with more firmness into the career which he is intended to follow.
From an attentive perusal of the plan, of which I have traced you the leading features, you will be convinced that the study of the sciences will gain by the new system, without that of literature being in danger of losing. The number of professors is increased, and yet the period of education is not prolonged. A pupil will always be at liberty to apply himself more intensely to the branch to which he is impelled by his particular inclination. He may confine himself to one course of lectures, or attend to several, according to his intellectual means. He will not be compelled to stop in his career, merely because the pupils of his class do not advance. In short, neither limits nor check have been put to the progress that may be made by talent.
I here give you only a principal idea, but the application of it, improved by your sagacity and knowledge, will be sufficient to answer all the objections which may be started against the new plan of instruction, and which, when carefully investigated, may be reduced to a single one; namely, that literature is sacrificed to the sciences.
Footnote 1: Counsellor of State, now charged with the direction and superintendance of public instruction.Return to text
Footnote 2: The new organization of public instruction was decreed by the government on the 11th of Floréal, year X.Return to text
Paris, January 18, 1802.
Of all the private lodgings in Paris, none certainly can be more convenient for the residence of a single man than those of
MILLINERS.
I have already said that such is the profession of my landlady. Whenever I am disposed for a little lively chitchat, I have only to step to the next door but one into hermagazin de modes, where, like a favourite courtier, under the oldrégime, I have bothles grandes et les petites entrées, or, in plain English, I may either introduce myself by the public front entrance, or slip in by the private back-door.
Here, twenty damsels are employed in making up head-dresses which are hourly produced and varied by fashion. Closely confined to the counter, with a needle in their hand, they are continually throwing their eyes towards the street. Not a passenger escapes their notice. The place the nearest to the window is in the greatest request, as being most favourable for catching the transient homages of the crowds of men continually passing and repassing. It is generally occupied by the beauty of themagazinor warehouse; for it would be resented as an almost unpardonable offence to term this emporium of taste aboutiqueor shop.
Before each of them is a block, on which they form and adjust the gallant trophy destined to heighten the loveliness of some ambitious fair who has set her heart on surpassing all her rivals at an approaching ball. Montesquieu observes, in his Persian letters, that "if a lady has taken it into her head to appear at an assembly in a particular dress, from that moment fifty persons of the working class must no longer sleep, or have time to eat and drink. She commands, and is obeyed more expeditiously than the king of Persia, because interest has greater sway than the most powerful monarch on earth."
In the morning, some of these damsels wait on the ladies with bandboxes of millinery. Obliged by their profession to adorn the heads of other women, they must stifle the secret jealousy of their sex, and contribute to set off the person of those who not unfrequently treat them with hauteur. However, they are now and then amply revenged: sometimes the proud rich lady is eclipsed by the humble little milliner. The unadorned beauty of the latter destroys the made up charms of the coquette: 'tis the triumph of nature over art.
If, perchance, the lover drops in, fatal consequences ensue. His belle cannot but lose by the comparison: her complexion appears still more artificial beside the natural bloom of the youthfulmarchande. In a word, the silent admirer all at once becomes faithless.
Many a young Parisian milliner has made a jump from behind the counter into a fashionable carriage, even into that of an English peer. Strange revolution of fortune! In the course of a few days, she returns to the same shop to make purchases, holding high her head; and exulting in her success. Her former mistress, sacrificing her rage to her interest, assumes a forced complaisance; while her once-dear companions are ready to burst with envy.
Millinery here constitutes a very extensive branch of trade. Nothing short of the creative genius of the French could contrive to give, again and again, a new form to things the most common. In vain do females of other countries attempt to vie with them; in articles of tasteful fancy they still remain unrivaled.
From Paris, these studious mistresses of invention give laws to the polished world. After passing to London, Berlin, Hamburg, and Vienna, their models of fashion are disseminated all over Europe. These models alike travel to the banks of the Neva and the shores of the Propontis. At Constantinople, they find their way into the seraglio of the Grand Signior; while, at Petersburg, they are servilely copied to grace the Empress of Russia. Thus, the fold given to a piece of muslin or velvet, the form impressed on a ribband, by the hand of an ingenious French milliner, is repeated among all nations.
A fashion here does not last a week, before it is succeeded by another novelty; for a French woman ofbon ton, instead of wearing what is commonly worn by others, always aims at appearing in something new. It is unfortunately too true, that the changeableness of taste and inconstancy of fashion in France furnish an aliment to the luxury of other countries; but the principle of this communication is in the luxury of this gay and volatile people.
You reproach me with being silent respecting thebals masquésor masquerades, mentioned in my enumeration of the amusements of Paris. The fact is that a description of them will scarcely furnish matter for a few lines, still less a subject for a letter. However, in compliance with custom, I have been more than once to the
BAL DE L'OPÉRA.
This is a masquerade frequently given in the winter, at the theatre of the grand French opera, where the pit is covered over, as that is of our opera-house in the Haymarket. From the powerful draught of air, which, coming from behind the scenes, may well be termedvent de coulisse, the room is as cold as the season.
Since the revolution, masquerades were strictly forbidden, and this prohibition continued under the directorial government. It is only since BONAPARTE'S accession to the post of Chief Magistrate, that the Parisians have been indulged with the liberty of wearing disguises during the carnival.
Of all the amusements in Paris, I have ever thought this the most tiresome and insipid. But it is the same at theBal de l'Opéraas atFrascati,Longchamp, and other points of attraction here; every one is soon tired of them, and yet every one flocks thither. In fact, what can well be more tiresome than a place where you find persons masked, without wit or humour? Though, according to the old French saying, "I faut avoir bien peu d'esprit pour ne pas en avoir sous le masque?"
The men, who at a masquerade here generally go unmasked, think it not worth while to be even complaisant to the women, who are elbowed, squeezed, and carried by the tide from one end of the room to the other, before they are well aware of it. Dominos are the general dress. The music is excellent; but it is not the fashion to dance; andles femmes de bonne compagnie, that is, well-bred women, are condemned to content themselves with the dust they inhale; for they dare not quit their mask to take any refreshment. But, notwithstanding these inconveniences, it is here reckoned a fine thing to have been at abal masquéwhen the crowd was great, and the pressure violent; as the more the ladies have shared in it, the more they congratulate themselves on the occasion.
Before the revolution, thegrand tonwas for gentlemen to go to theBal de l'Opérain a full-dress suit of black, and unmasked. Swords were here prohibited, as at Bath. This etiquette of dress, however, rendered not the company more select.
I remember well that at a masked ball at the Parisian opera, in the year 1785, the very first beau I recognized in the room, parading in ahabit de cour, was my ownperruquier. As at present, the amusement of the women then consisted in teazing the men; and those who had a disposition for intrigue, gave full scope to the impulse of their nature. Thefille entretenue, theduchesse, and thebourgeoise, disguised under a similar domino, were not always distinguishable; and I have heard of a certain French marquis, who was here laid under heavy contribution for the momentary gratification of his caprice, though the object of it proved to be no other than his owncara sposa.
Paris, January 19, 1802.
When you expressed your impatience to be informed of the dramatic amusements in Paris, I promised to satisfy you as soon as I was able; for I knew that you would not be contented with a superficial examination. Therefore, in reviewing the principal scenic establishments, I shall, as I have done before, exert my endeavours not only to make you acquainted with thebestperformers in every department, but also with thebeststock-pieces, in order that, by casting your eye on theAffiches des Spectacles, when you visit this capital, you may at once form a judgment of the quality and quantity of the entertainment you are likely to enjoy at the representation of a particular piece, in which certain performers make their appearance. Since the revolution, the custom of printing the names of the actors and dancers in each piece, has been introduced. Formerly, amateurs often paid their money only to experience a disappointment; for, instead of seeing the hero or heroine that excited their curiosity, they had a bad duplicate, or, as the French term it, adouble, imposed on them, more frequently through caprice than any other motive. This is now obviated; and, except in cases of sudden and unforeseen indisposition, you may be certain of seeing the best performers whenever their name is announced.
In speaking of the theatres, the pieces represented, and the merits of the performers, I cannot be supposed to be actuated by any prejudice or partiality whatever. I have, it is true, been favoured with the oral criticism of a man of taste, who, as a very old acquaintance, has generally accompanied me to the differentspectacles; but still I have never adopted his sentiments, unless the truth of them had been confirmed by my own observation. From him I have been favoured with a communication of such circumstances respecting them as occurred during the revolution, when I was absent from Paris. You may therefore confidently rely on the candour and impartiality of my general sketch of the theatres; and if the stage be considered as a mirror which reflects the public mind, you will thence be enabled to appreciate the taste of the Parisians. Without forgetting that
"La critique est aisée, mais l'art est difficile,"
I shall indulge the hope that you will be persuaded that truth alone has guided my pen in this attempt to trace the attractions of the
THÉÂTRE FRANÇAIS DE LA RÉPUBLIQUE.
The house, now occupied by the performers of this theatre, was built at the beginning of the revolution by the late duke of Orleans, who, according to the opinion of those best acquainted with his schemes of profit, intended it for the representation of the grand French opera, for which, nevertheless, it is not sufficiently spacious.
It stands adjoining to the south-west angle of thePalais du Tribunat, with its front entrance in theRue de la Loi. Its façade presents a row of twelve Doric columns, surmounted by as many Corinthian pilasters, crowned by their entablature. On the first story is an exterior gallery; ornamented by an iron balustrade, which runs the whole length of the façade, and communicates with the lobby. On the north side, and at the back of the theatre, on the ground-floor, are several covered galleries, bordered by shops, which communicate with theRue St. Honoréand thePalais du Tribunat.
The vestibule, where four stair-cases terminate, is of an elliptic form, surrounded by three rows of Doric pillars. Above the vestibule, which is on the ground-floor, are the pit and lobby. The inside of the house, which is immoderately lofty, presents seven tiers of boxes, and, in the circumference, six Corinthian pillars. The ornaments, numerously scattered, are in relief. At a certain elevation, the plan of the house is changed by a recess made facing the stage. Two angels, above the stage-boxes, shock the eye by their enormous size.The boxes to the number of two hundred and twenty-two, are said to contain thirteen hundred persons; and the pit, including theorchestre,[1] seven hundred and twenty-four, making in all two thousand and twenty persons. The construction of this house is remarkable for iron only being employed in lieu of wood. The architect was LOUIS.
This theatre, which was begun in 1787, was finished in 1790, when, all privileges having been done away, it was first opened by a company of French comedians, who played tragedy and comedy. It then took the name ofThéâtre Français de la Rue de Richelieu, which street was afterwards and is now calledRue de la Loi. Being opened at the commencement of the revolution, it naturally adopted its principles; and, when the National Convention had proclaimed the Republic, it assumed the pompous name ofThéâtre de la République. The greater part of the actors who performed here, rendered themselves remarkable for theirrevolutionaryardour, and, during the reign of terror, it became a privileged theatre.
TheComédie Françaisein theFaubourg St. Germain, which, in its interior, presented the handsomest playhouse in Paris, was calledl'Odéona few years ago, and, since then, has been reduced by fire to a mere shell, the walls only being left standing. In 1789, this theatre appeared to follow the torrent of the revolution, and changed its name for that ofThéâtre de la Nation. Nevertheless, the actors did not, on that account, relinquish the title ofComédiens ordinaires du Roi. Shortly after, they even became, in general, the declared partisans of the oldrégime, or at least of the court. Their house was frequently anarenawhere the two parties came to blows, particularly on the occasion of the tragedy ofCharles Neuf, by CHÉNIER, and of the comedy ofL'Ami des Loix. The former of these pieces, represented in the first ebullition of the revolution, was directed against the court; and the comedians refused to bring it on the stage, at the time of the assemblage of the national guards in Paris, on the 14th of July, 1790, known by the title ofFederation. The latter was played after the massacres of September 1792, and had been composed with the laudable view of bringing back the public mind to sentiments of humanity, justice, and moderation. The maxims which it contained, being diametrically opposite to those of the plunderers who then reigned, that is, the members of thecommuneof Paris, the minority of the National Convention, the Jacobins, Cordeliers, &c. they interrupted the representation, and, after a great uproar, the piece was prohibited.
This minority of which I have just spoken, having succeeded in subduing the majority, nothing now stopped the rage of the revolutionary party. All those who gave them umbrage were imprisoned, and put to death with the forms of law. The comedians of the French theatre were thrown into prison; it appears that they were, both men and women, partly destined for the scaffold, and that if they escaped, it was through the address of a clerk of one of the Committees of Public Welfare or of Public Safety, who repeatedly concealed the documents containing the charges brought against them.It is said that the comedians purpose to prove their gratitude, so long delayed, to this young man, without putting themselves to any expense, by giving for his benefit an extraordinary representation.[2]
At length the happy 9th of Thermidor arrived; the prisons were thrown open; and, as you may well imagine in such a nation as this, the French comedians were not the last to be set at liberty. However, their theatre was not immediately restored to them. It was occupied by a sort of bastardspectacle, with the actors of which they were then obliged to form an association. This did not last long. The French comedians were received by the manager of the lyric theatre of theRue Feydeau, whom they afterwards ruined. The actors of comedy, properly so called, contrived to expel those of tragedy, with whom they thought they could dispense; and, shortly, they themselves, notwithstanding their reputation, were deserted by the public. The heroes and heroines, with Mademoiselle RAUCOURT at their head, took possession of the theatre of theRue de Louvois, and there prospered. But, after the 18th of Fructidor, (5th of September, 1797) the Directory caused this house to be shut up: the reason assigned was the representation given here of a little comedy, of ancient date however, and of no great importance, in which a knavish valet is called MERLIN, as was the Minister of Justice of that day, who since became director, not of the theatre, but of the republic. Mademoiselle RAUCOURT, who was directress of this theatre, returned with her company to the old theatre of theFaubourg St. Germain, which then took the name ofl'Odéon.
In the mean time, the theatre of theRue de Richelieuhad perceptibly declined, after the fall of Robespierre, and the public appeared to have come to a positive determination to frequent it no longer. The manager of theThéâtre Feydeau, M. SARGENT, formerly a banker, who was rich, and enjoyed a good reputation, succeeded in uniting all the actors of theComédie Françaiseand those of theThéâtre de la République. This effected his own ruin. When he had relinquished the management of the undertaking, the government took it in hand, and definitively organized this tragic and comic association, to superintend which it appointed a special commissioner.
Therepertoire(or list of pieces which are here played habitually, or have been acted with applause) is amazingly well furnished, and does infinite honour to French literature. It may be divided into two parts, the ancient and the modern. It is the former that deserves the encomium which I have just bestowed.In the line of Tragedy, it is composed of the greater part of the pieces of the four principal pillars of the temple of the French Melpomene: namely CORNEILLE[3], RACINE, CRÉBILLON, and VOLTAIRE, to whom may be added DU BELLOY, as well as of some detached pieces, such asIphigénie en Taurideby GUIMOND DE LA TOUCHE,Le Comte de WarwickandPhiloctèteby LA HARPE. The modernrepertoire, or list of stock-pieces, is formed of the tragedies of M. M. DUCIS, CHÉNIER, ARNAULT, LEGOUVÉ, and LE MERCIER.