This admirable library, which also contains collections of medals,

and other curiosities, is open to all persons who choose to attend as

students, without any expense, recommendation, or favour, every day in

the week; but, to prevent the labours of these being interrupted, the

visits of such as only come from motives of curiosity are limited to two

days in seven. I saw, with pleasure, that the object of this splendid

institution is fully answered. Forty or fifty young men, deeply intent

on the subject of their inquiries, were seated in different parts of the

room, and seemed to pursue, with enthusiasm, those studies, which the

liberality of their country thus afforded them the means of cultivating.

The gallery of manuscripts (called the gallery of Mazarine) contains

thirty thousand volumes, generally on the history of France, and more

particularly relating to facts which have taken place since the reign

of Lewis XI, twenty-five thousand of which are in learned or foreign

languages. The librarian, to whose care these precious papers are

entrusted, was known to a gentleman who accompanied me, and through his

goodness we saw several, which are not commonly exhibited.

I was much surprised at finding, in the hand writing of _Lewis XIV._

memoirs of his own times, so accurately taken, that, with very little

difficulty, they might be prepared for the press. I understand that a

gentleman, belonging to the library, began this useful task, and had made

considerable progress, when a sudden illness deprived his country and the

literary world of his services.

I was not a little entertained with the love letters of Henry IV., which

are in perfect preservation, and some of which have, I believe, been

published. The following is a _fac simile_ of one, which particularly

attracted my notice:

“Mon cher cœur, nous venons de dyner

ceans, et sommes fort sous. Je

vous veyrré devant que partyre de Parys

vous cherryre non comme yl

faut, mes comme je pourre

Ce porteur me haste sy fort que

je ne vous puys fayre que ce

mot bonsoyr le cœur a moy je

te bese un mylyon de foys

8

ce XIIIIIme octobre 8 H 8

8

HENRY[83].”

As the tokens of regard, which the gallant Henry thought his mistress

deserved, were only limited in number to a million, we cannot too much

admire the prudence with which he, who was never known to break his word,

promised to testify his affection, not according to the merit of the

lady, but to the powers of her lover.

The five large rooms on the second floor contain the titles and

genealogies of private families, which, though forbidden, since the

revolution, to be kept by individuals, are here preserved, in order

to ascertain the claims of property, and to assist the researches

of historians. They are contained in five thousand boxes, or

_porte-feuilles_, and are arranged and labelled with the greatest

precision.

The cabinet of medals is ornamented by drawings over the doors by

_Boucher_; by three large pictures, by Natoire, representing Thalia,

Calliope, and Terpsichore; by three of Carlo Vanloo, representing

_Psyche_ led by Hymen, the inventress of the flute, and the three

protectors of the Muses. The cabinet of antiques, above stairs, contains

the busts, vases, inscriptions, instruments of sacrifice, &c. collected

by the celebrated _Caylus_.

The cabinet of engravings, which occupies what is called, in France,

the “entresol,” or the floor between the first and second, consists of

five thousand volumes, divided into twelve classes. The first contains

sculptors, architects, engineers, and engravers, arranged in schools.

The second, prints, emblems, and devices of piety. The third, greek

and roman fables and antiquities. The fourth, medals, coins, and arms.

The fifth, public festivals, cavalcades, and tournaments. The sixth,

arts and mathematics. The seventh, prints relating to romances and

works of pleasantry. The eighth, natural history in all its branches.

The ninth, geography. The tenth, plans and views of ancient and modern

edifices. The eleventh, portraits of persons, of all conditions, to the

number of fifty thousand; and the twelfth, a collection of fashions and

_costumes_ of almost every country in the world, from the _porte-feuille_

of _Gaigniéres_. This last class is said to contain the most extensive

collection yet known of french fashions, from the time of Clovis to the

present age. The greater part of the sheets are coloured, some are on

vellum, copied from glass windows, from pieces of tapestry, and from

figures on tombs. The picture of king John, being the first specimen of

french painting, is found in this collection. It is well preserved.

I ought not to conclude my account of the national library without

mentioning, that among the manuscripts there are several in the persian,

arabic, and Chinese languages.

Besides the “national library,” there is the library of the Pantheon (or

St. Généviève), consisting of eighty thousand volumes, and two thousand

manuscripts, open every day from ten till two o’clock.

The Mazarine library, or (“des quatre nations,”) is open every day, from

ten till two o’clock (excepting on the 5th and 10th of each month), and

contains sixty thousand volumes.

The library of the “Institute” is open every day to members, and every

15th of the month to the public.

The legislature, the tribunate, the senate, and the other constituted

authorities, have also their libraries.

In addition to these sources of knowledge, there are several literary

institutions, called, when I first came here, “_des Lycées_, or

_Lyceums_,” but which, in consequence of the national colleges lately

established having taken that name, have changed theirs, and assumed the

appellation of “_des Athénées_.” The most distinguished of these, “le

Lycée,” (or, according to its new title, “l’Athénée,”), “republicain,”

has been the principal source of my amusement at Paris. It consists of

annual subscribers, who, for the moderate sum of four _louis_, enjoy

all its benefits. The society has a large floor, or apartment, situate

near the “Palais Royal,” (in a street called by its name); and it is

open the whole of every day for the use of the subscribers. There is a

small library, where all the periodical publications and newspapers are

taken in; and while three or four rooms are appropriated to conversation,

one is devoted to reading, and profound silence is there ordered and

maintained. In addition to these, there is an excellent lecture room,

with all the necessary apparatus for experiments, in which the ablest

men in France appear as professors. The subject of the lectures, which

are regularly given, always twice, and frequently three times, in the

course of the day, are literature, the sciences, and modern languages.

When I add, that _Fourcroy_ takes the chymical department, that _Cuvier_

reads on natural history, and that _la Harpe_, till banished by the

government, was the professor of literature, you will readily allow, that

no establishment can be better organized. Besides these, “_Hassenfratz_”

gives very good lectures on agriculture, and the studies connected

with that science. “_Sué_,” as an anatomist, is justly celebrated; and

the other professors, in their different lines, prove themselves well

qualified for the tasks assigned them. With “_Fourcroy_,” and “_Cuvier_,”

I was particularly delighted; and it is impossible, without having heard

them, to form an idea of the clearness and eloquence with which they

explain the subjects of their respective departments. As to “_la Harpe_”

I must confess, I was not a little disappointed. From his great renown,

and from the encomiums past on him, in early life, by _Voltaire_,

I expected to have been at once pleased, instructed, and surprised.

In these hopes I was strongly encouraged by the manner in which his

lectures were spoken, of at Paris, and by the crowds which flocked to

the “_Lycée_,” whenever it was his turn to fill the chair. Dreadful was

my disappointment, when, at last, I heard him. _Pompignan_, _la Motte_,

_Fontenelle_, and some other authors of that stamp, were the subjects

of his discourses; and, beginning with telling us that these writers

were either entirely forgotten, or deserved to be so, he continued, for

whole days together, to drag their ghosts before his audience, whom he

seemed to convert into a “_tribunal révolutionaire_” of criticism, and to

attack their memory with all the warmth and violence of an “_accusateur

public_.” These philippics against dead and neglected authors, filled

up with long quotations from the works which he ridiculed, interlarded

with attacks on those philosophical and political principles of which

he was originally the ardent advocate, and enlivened now and then with

a joke, and sometimes with an anecdote, constituted the whole merit of

his lectures. Yet the members of the “_Lycée_” heard him with wonder and

admiration; and whenever he threw down his book, turned round with a

look of self-complacence, or filled his tumbler with lemonade from the

decanter always placed by his side, the signal was instantly taken, and

loud and repeated applauses thundered from every corner of the room. To

account for this partiality, I must repeat, that every thing at Paris is

ruled by fashion; and _la Harpe_ being generally considered as the most

distinguished literary man now alive, every thing which fell from his

tongue was necessarily excellent; and I have no doubt, that if he had

contented himself with reading an article from one of the newspapers of

the morning, he would have been equally admired and as warmly applauded.

The “_Lycée_” is altogether a most excellent establishment; and,

considering, that two lectures, and frequently three, are given six days

in every week, and that these lectures are included in the subscription,

the price of four louis is very moderate.

I cannot speak properly of this institution as a place of society, as I

seldom staid there after the conclusion of the lectures; but I am told,

that the members are, generally speaking, respectable men. The rooms

are constantly full, and some persons may be said nearly to pass their

lives there, since they are scarcely ever absent, except at the hour of

dinner. I think it not improbable, that much amusement may be found in

the conversation of the members; but I confine my recommendation to the

advantages which the “_Lycée_” affords, as an easy source of profitable

knowledge.

“_L’Institut national_,” that celebrated society, which has succeeded

“_l’académie française_,” which is held up as the great republican

repository of genius and learning, and into which admittance is solicited

with so much eagerness, both at home and abroad, consists of one hundred

and forty-four members resident at Paris, and of twenty-four foreign

associates. It is divided into three classes; the sciences, physical and

mathematical; the sciences, moral and political; literature and the fine

arts. Each of these classes is again subdivided.

The “_Institut_” has a public séance, or meeting, on the 15th of every

month. I was present at one of these assemblies; and I am ashamed to

confess, that I had difficulty in refraining from laughter. The society

holds its sittings in a spacious room in the palace of the _Louvre_.

The members were seated in such silent, solemn state, each with his

reading desk, books, ink, and wax lights before him, while a dull and

uninteresting paper was reading, that their gravity produced the opposite

effect on me, and “_malgré_” my respect for the establishment, and for

those who belong to it, it was not without a struggle that I composed my

features, and checked the impulse of nature. At last, fortunately for

me, “_Colin d’Harleville_,” a dramatic writer of merit, ascended the

rostrum, and read a kind of funeral oration, or eulogy, on the memory of

an author of reputation, lately dead. The simplicity of the speaker’s

manner, the harmony of his voice, and the feeling which he displayed,

in deploring the loss and proving the worth of his friend, charmed

every ear; and, notwithstanding the pompous faces which surrounded me,

I became as melancholy as they wished to appear serious. The members of

“l’institut national” wear a blue cloth uniform, richly embroidered with

silk of the same colour.

The “_Jardin national des Plantes_[84],” founded originally by Buffon, is

one of the most interesting objects at Paris. Naturalists, and persons

fond of botany, have here every opportunity of cultivating those useful

studies, and of gratifying, in the amplest manner, their favourite taste.

The garden itself, which is extensive, and reaches to the river, contains

every kind of curious and exotic plant. There is a greenhouse likewise,

filled with such trees, the tender nature of which cannot bear the

coldness of a northern atmosphere.

There is also a _ménagerie_, or collection of animals, among which every

kind of fierce, rare, and foreign quadrupeds may be found. On my first

arrival at Paris, there were two elephants, of different sizes, who

had lived several years together in the same stable. They were of very

considerable dimensions, equal to those, the effigy of which is sometimes

seen on a London stage. The male has lately died, and “_Cuvier_” is to

anatomise the body, and give a lecture on the subject. The female, for

some time after the death of her companion, showed evident symptoms of

grief, and even refused, at first, every kind of nourishment. The house

attached to “le Jardin des Plantes” is filled with a precious collection

of curiosities in natural history, properly arranged, and correctly

named. Several rooms are filled with these valuable objects; and I am

told, by persons acquainted with such subjects, that very little is

wanting to make this _dépôt_ complete. Stuffed quadrupeds[85], birds,

plants, fossils, fish, and shells, offer every kind of variety; and even

the ignorant man finds here a source of never-failing amusement. The

collection of insects is particularly curious and extensive. I believe it

is considered as the finest in the world.

The “_Jardin des Plantes_,” like every other national establishment at

Paris, is seen gratuitously, and is open to foreigners every day, while

frenchmen are only admitted three or four times in each week. It is

impossible to mention too often, or to admire too highly, a _trait_ of

hospitality so truly magnificent.

The “cabinet _de l’École des Mines_” is a superb establishment. It is

situate in the principal building towards the key of the “_hôtel des

Monnaies_.” It was formed in 1778, of the collection which the famous

mineralogist, le Sage, was eighteen years in putting together. The middle

of the cabinet forms an amphitheatre, capable of containing two hundred

persons. Glass cases enclose, in the finest order, minerals of every

kind, and from every part of the world. Four other separate cases offer

models of machinery. On the stairs, leading to the gallery, is the bust

of monsieur le Sage, which was placed there by the gratitude of his

pupils. The gallery itself is surrounded with cases, containing specimens

of the productions of mines, too numerous to be placed with those which

are in the first cabinet of mines. The interior of the cabinet is 45

feet long, by 38 wide, and 40 feet high. All the english, who have seen

“_l’École des Mines_,” agree, in speaking of it as one of the most

interesting sights of this interesting capital[86].

Beside the great establishments which I have mentioned, there are several

others, which it would be an endless task to attempt to specify.

There are also many “lycées” or “athénées,” beside that of which I have

spoken. There are likewise private subscription lectures on all subjects,

many of which are of high repute, such as those of Mr. Charles on natural

philosophy, of the excellence of whose experiments, and the clearness of

whose discourses, I hear a very favourable account.

The english, german, and italian languages, are taught by professors at

the different “lycées,” by particular subscription, and for moderate sums

in other places. In short, there is no literary pursuit, of any kind,

which any man, in any circumstances, may not cultivate with success at

Paris.

Fortitude is necessary to resist the opportunities of committing

crimes, if the individual be poor, and of falling into the temptations

of pleasure, if he happen to be rich. Guarded against these respective

evils, the industrious scholar, whether covered with rags, or “clad every

day in purple,” may move on in the career of letters with every possible

advantage, and with the certitude of, at last, obtaining the utmost

object of his wishes. If any equality exist in France, it is found in the

fount of knowledge, which literally

“⸺In patriam populumque fluxit.”

In addition to the opportunities afforded for literary improvement

already mentioned, the price of books is moderate; and “_cabinets

litéraires_” offer in every quarter of the town, and almost in every

street, newspapers, pamphlets, and periodical works.

Paris, however, does not possess many circulating libraries, and of the

few which exist, I can give no favourable account. Perhaps the facility

with which works of value are consulted, and the trifle for which those

of the day are bought, are the reasons of this deficiency. It is,

however, a considerable convenience wanting in so great a city; and I

think that such an establishment, on a liberal and extended scale, would

be a profitable and useful subject of speculation.

I have said nothing of “la Société des belles Lettres” of “_la Société

de Médecine_” of “_la Société d’Institution_,” &c. Were I to enumerate

all the useful establishments, both public and private, connected with

literature, my letter would soon be swelled into a volume, and that even

of no small dimensions. I shall, therefore, now conclude my account by

observing, that whatever are the particular objects, to which a studious

man wishes to direct his attention, “quod petit hic est,” he will find

here all the facilities which he can possibly desire for pursuing his

favourite science, with little or no expense and great advantage.

I am, &c.

LETTER XXXI.

Calculation and estimate of expenses at Paris.—List of hotels,

traiteurs, &c.

Paris, may the 12th, 1802, (22 floréal.)

MY DEAR SIR,

You know how much I dislike the petty detail of economical arrangements,

and will therefore pardon me for having so long delayed to speak to you

of the expenses and mode of living at Paris. I have not forgotten your

queries, and will, in this letter, endeavour to answer them as fully

as possible. You will, at least, derive one advantage from my apparent

neglect; that the information which I shall now send you, is not hastily

given, but the result of experience, gained during a residence of nearly

seven months.

Persons who have represented Paris (to use a vulgar phrase) as a cheap

place, have either been greatly deceived themselves, or have intended

purposely to deceive. The difference between the expense of living in

London and in Paris, appears to me infinitely less than it is generally

supposed. It is true, indeed, that a french family will apparently

support a much more elegant establishment on a given income, than an

english one can in London; but I believe the cause arises almost

entirely from the superiour economy and arrangement of the former, from

the sparing system observed in the interiour of private houses, and

from the constant and unvarying attention to the _minutiæ_ of every

disbursement. Though the table of a Parisian boasts, when company are

invited, every kind of luxury, yet I have reason to suspect, that, on

ordinary occasions, “le bouilli[87],” and “le vin ordinaire,” form its

principal support. A carriage, which has been in a family twenty or

thirty years, is treated with all the respect due to its antiquity, and

is seldom or ever discarded on account of its oldfashioned shape or faded

colour; and horses, used only now and then, may be fed on hay and straw.

Liveries are forbidden by the law; and servants are therefore permitted

to wait in the tattered garments which their present master has left off,

or in those which they have collected in a former service.

The drawing-rooms, and “_salles à manger_,” are lighted, even at the

largest assemblies, with oil, instead of wax; and antichambers and

staircases are so dark, that to find one’s way into the principal

apartment is generally a service of difficulty, if not of danger. As

to fire, on common occasions, one in the bed room either of “madame,”

or “monsieur,” is thought sufficient, with the addition of a “poële,”

or stove, which is so contrived, as to heat both the eating room, and

the antichamber, in which latter the servants always sit. In respect to

dress, an old great coat (or “riding coat,” as they call it) is often

worn in the house, by gentlemen, and the _belles_ who appear with the

greatest splendour in the evening, sometimes pass their morning in a

powdering gown, or “_robe de chambre_.”

The same kind of rigid economy is observed in their amusements. A family

of distinction will occupy a box “_au second_, or _au bagnoir_[88],” to

save a few _livres_; and I knew a young lady of considerable fortune,

who expressed an anxious wish to see the first appearance of _Vestris_,

and who, when a place was offered her, refused it, _malgré_ the general

passion for _spectacles_, and the celebrity of this, when she found that

the price of the ticket was nine francs (or seven and sixpence english).

I have entered into this explanation, to account for the apparently

splendid establishments of persons of moderate fortunes, which might

otherwise seem to contradict the opinion which I am about to give, and

which I have already hinted.

I repeat, then, that an english family settling here[89], with english

ideas and english habits, would spend very little less than they would do

in London, with a similar establishment.

To enable you to judge for yourself on this subject, I shall mention

the prices of the most essential articles of expense; some of which are

lower, while others are infinitely higher.

Meat is much cheaper, being only eleven or twelve sols per pound (or five

or six pence english).

Bread bears, at present, nearly the same price in the two countries.

The keep of horses costs infinitely less at Paris, than in London.

Poultry is cheaper; and wine of the best kind may be bought for something

more than we pay for good port.

On the other hand, house rent is equally dear, if not dearer. Furniture

is exorbitant; and dress of all kinds, both for men and women (only

excepting shoes and gloves) is, beyond comparison, dearer in price, and

more expensive in its kind.

The price of amusements, in the first places, is nearly the same at the

large theatres of Paris, as at those of London; and _spectacles_, being

infinitely more frequented at the former than in the latter city, much

more is spent, in this article, in the one than in the other capital.

Groceries are dearer, and fuel at least double. Putting these articles,

the one against the other, perhaps with economy eleven hundred pounds

in Paris might purchase as many conveniences as twelve in London. But I

think even this difference is liberally allowed.

Having given this rough calculation of family expenses, I shall proceed

to speak more particularly of those of a foreigner, or temporary

resident. On this point I can be more positive, having experience for my

guide.

A job carriage and pair of horses cost from twenty to twenty two louis

per month, according to the manner in which you are served. A pair of

horses, without the hire of a carriage, may be had for fifteen or sixteen

louis per month. In both cases the coachman is paid by the jobman; but

the former expects a trifle, as a mark of your approbation.

A “_laquais de place_” asks four, but will take three, livres (or half a

crown English) per day.

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