observes, “C’est bien vrai, c’est un très beau spectacle.” (Yes, it is a
very fine spectacle, or sight.)
If a stranger inquire, whether the monthly parade of Bonaparte’s troops
deserve its celebrity, he is told, “Oui, c’est un très beau spectacle.”
(Yes, it is a fine spectacle.)
It is also the favourite theme of conversation; and a parisian compelled
to talk with a foreigner, is sure to begin with the following words:
“Allez vous souvent, monsieur, au spectacle? Ne sont ils pas bien beaux
nos spectacles?” (Do you often go to the _spectacles_? Are not our
_spectacles_ very fine?)
A similar observation forms likewise the hospitable kind of consolation
which an englishman sometimes receives, if he complain, that he has not
seen much of french society. “Mais cependant, vous ne pouvez pas manquer
d’amusement; à Paris les spectacles sont si beaux.” (You cannot want
amusement, however; the spectacles at Paris are so fine.)
In consequence of the general application of this word in France to
every thing relating to the stage, a parisian, on his arrival in London,
wishing to go to the play, supposed that he had only to look for the word
spectacle in a french and english dictionary; and, having found that
the literal translation gave him the same word, with perfect confidence
directed his hackney coachman to _drive to the spectacle_. The fellow,
supposing that he wanted to purchase a pair of spectacles, conducted
him to the celebrated shop at Charing-cross. The frenchman flew into
a passion, and by his gestures conveyed, that this was not the place
where he desired to go. The coachman, imagining that this was not the
optician’s, to which he wished to be taken, carried him to several others
in different parts of the town. After a long round, during which the
favourite oaths of the two countries were mutually exchanged between
_monsieur_ and his _charioteer_, the former was compelled to pass his
evening in the hackney coach instead of the play-house, and thus learnt
the difference between french _spectacles_ and english _spectacles_.
[7] Mademoiselle Beauharnois is since married to Louis Bonaparte, one of
the brothers of the first consul; to whom she has become, therefore, both
daughter and sister.
[8] Married to General le Clerc, who commanded the expedition to St.
Domingo. She accompanied him to that island, and incurred all the dangers
of climate and of war. She did so in obedience to Bonaparte’s particular
orders; with whom it is an undeviating principle, that a wife should
always follow the steps and fortunes of her husband.
[9] As we should say in english, “a lost thing.” The french expression
is more commonly used, and is infinitely stronger in its meaning. It is
adopted on all occasions of misfortune; such as to deplore the death of
a friend, or the loss of a “spectacle.” A general was lately killed in a
duel. A fair parisian of high fashion, to whom he was much attached, on
hearing of the accident, exclaimed, with an accent of deep despair, “Que
je suis à plaindre! il devoit m’avoir amenée au bal de l’opéra demain.
Voilà une affaire bien manquée.” (How am I to be pitied! he was to have
taken me to the ball at the opera to-morrow. Here is a lost thing, or a
party completely deranged.)
[10] What bad weather! what a misfortune! really it is terrible! it is
shocking! The _fête_ would have been so fine, if this devilish rain had
not fallen!
[11] By the good fortune of Bonaparte.
[12] At the house of the respectable M. de la T⸺, whose niece is the
lady of the celebrated P⸺t, some time president of the convention, and
afterwards banished, with many other worthy men, at the revolution of
the 18th of Fructidor. M. P⸺t is a distinguished writer; and, as a
politician, was much esteemed for the moderation of his principles, and
the integrity of his conduct. Madame P⸺t is a woman of very superiour
talents and great acquirements. She is likewise justly admired for the
humanity which has induced her to devote her hours to that excellent
institution, _la Société Maternelle_, of which she is the president. The
object of this society is, to afford deserted orphans that comfort, of
which they have been deprived by the death or the fault of their parents.
[13] “De mauvaise compagnie”—“of bad company, unfit for good company.”
The terms, “bonne compagnie,” and “_mauvaise_ compagnie,” are for ever in
the mouths of _coquettes_ and _petits-maîtres_. It is difficult to define
what, I believe, is meant to be indefinable.
[14] _L’ancienne noblesse_, literally translated, “the ancient nobility.”
I use the expression in french, because the word “nobility,” in our
language, expresses a very different thing.—The nobility of England are
a small, respectable, and wealthy body, exercising a great and important
part of the constitution, and possessed of powers highly important to the
state. The french “_noblesse_” consisted of sixty or seventy thousand
families, every individual of which would have thought himself disgraced
by engaging in any branch of trade, or useful industry; enjoying many
privileges personally advantageous, but discharging no public functions,
as nobles, at all connected with the government.
[15] “Contractors.”
[16] Every landholder in France, in consequence of a law passed in one of
the most violent moments of the revolution, and which is still continued,
pays one fourth of his real revenue to the state; and as, in particular
parts of the country, the rate has been unfairly made, it happens, in
some cases, that even a half is paid, instead of a fourth. The latter is
the _minimum_ of the present taxation.
[17] I am very sorry, but to tell you the truth.
[18] At their house—I am really quite distressed.
[19] “New Comers,” upstarts.
[20] Eating room.
[21] Silence guards the slumbers and the loves of this bed.
[22] President’s chair.
[23] To the Legislative Body, to the first Consul, and to madame
Bonaparte.
[24] Yes, yes, that tall man is lord Cornwallis. He has a fine figure.
He looks like a military man. He has served in the army. Is it not true,
sir? Look at that little man near him, what a difference! what a mean
appearance!
[25] “They do right,” said one, “to wear boots—it is a travelling dress.
They will not stay here long.”
[26] We pay them ten thousand francs for doing nothing. I am astonished
Bonaparte does not get rid of these fellows.
[27] I believe that your ambassador has an income of his own, larger than
that of all these fellows together. Without their salary of legislators,
they would die of hunger.
[28] The sovereign people.
[29] The abbé Sicard, in the course of this lecture, took occasion to
remark, that of all languages, the english was the most simple, the most
reasonable, and the most natural, in its instruction. As a proof of the
truth of his assertion, he informed us, that his pupils, as they began to
learn the means of conveying their thoughts by writing, were constantly
guilty of _anglicisms_. He added, that it was difficult to make them lay
aside idioms purely english, and still more so, to teach them those which
are peculiar to the french language.
[30] I hear only silence and see only night.
[31] Your droll Shakspeare.
[32] By way of an unanswerable argument, said, “It is Mr. Pitt who
understands reasoning; but as to Mr. Fox, he can declaim prettily: all
his talent consists in this. You will allow me to know, for it was I,”
assuming a look of great dignity, “who translated his speeches.”
[33] General Dessaix, by whose valour the battle of Marengo, in which he
fell, was principally gained.
[34] To take advantage of the discoveries of the present age, but not to
run before them.
[35] To love the world at large, it may be truly said, that we ought
first to love our own country; but he who begins with loving the world at
large, will probably end in not loving any country whatever. Philosophy
has done its duty; it is for you, citizen legislators, to discharge
yours. Philosophy begins the happiness of men; but it is legislation
which completes it, &c.
[36] “La loi d’aubaine,” by which foreigners were prevented from
inheriting or purchasing lands in France.
[37] Boissy d’Anglass. This worthy man was president of the national
assembly on one of those occasions, when the mob burst into the hall, and
attempted to dictate to the members.
With heroic courage, he refused to put any question, while the
rabble remained in the assembly; and persevered in his resolution,
notwithstanding the poignards which were raised against him, and the
dreadful example of one of his colleagues, who was murdered by his side.
[38] That dark and wet climate.
[39] Believe me, sir, our young men see all this with the most perfect
indifference.
[40] Coffeehouses.—The number of coffeehouses (properly so called, as
coffee and _liqueurs_ are the only articles which they supply) is very
great at Paris, and they are constantly crowded. Swarms of idle persons
spend their lives at these places, playing chess, talking politics,
reading the journals, or sitting still. I have often counted more than
one hundred individuals in a coffeeroom of a moderate size; and there
is no hour of the day when the same scene does not present itself.
Paris, under every government, and at all periods, will bear the same
appearance as to amusements. Montesquieu, in his Persian Letters, gives
the following description of the coffeehouses of his time, which applies
exactly to those of the day:
_“Le café est très en usage à Paris, il y a un grand nombre de
maisons publiques, où on le distribue. Dans quelques unes de
ces maisons on dit des nouvelles, dans d’autres on joue aux
échecs. Il y en a une où l’on apprête le café, de telle manière
qu’il donne de l’esprit à ceux qui en prennent; au moins, de
tous ceux qui en sortent, il n’y a personne que ne croie qu’il
en a quatre fois plus que lorsqu’il est entré.”_
“Coffee is much in use in Paris. There are a great many public houses
where it is distributed. In some of these houses the news of the day is
reported, and in others chess is played. There is one, in which coffee
is prepared, in such an extraordinary manner, that it improves the
intellects of those who take it: at least, of those who come from this
house, there is not one who does not think himself four times as wise as
when he went in.”
[41] The establishment for the employment of the blind.
[42] In spite of myself.
[43] As our Saviour did of old.
[44] It is the art of writing as quick as speech. Stenography moves like
the deer or the horse, but common writing like the ox.
[45] You speak of _Molière!_ Oh! his reign is past; our age is much
more refined in its ideas; our stage, cleared of such trash, is at last
adorned with the really beautiful, which was so long sought for in vain.
[46] “Tom, my dear Tom.”
[47] Every large house in France is approached by a court yard, the gate
of which is called “la porte cochére.”
[48] I speak only of the superiour orders. Among the common people, I
have remarked some of that liveliness so vaunted, as forming a material
ingredient in the french character.
[49] Edward in Scotland.
[50] Provision for the convent.
[51] I am delighted to see here so many english. I hope our union may
be of long continuance. We are the two most powerful and most civilized
nations of Europe. We should unite to cultivate the arts, the sciences,
and letters; in short, to improve the happiness of human nature.
[52] When the present worthy and respectable minister from the United
States of America Mr. Livingston was presented, Bonaparte said to
him, “Vous venez d’une république libre et vertueuse dans un monde de
corruption.”—(You come from a free and virtuous republic into a world of
corruption.)—Mr. Livingston, who is rather deaf, and does not perfectly
understand french, did not immediately hear him. Bonaparte instantly
called to M. Talleyrand, and desired him to explain, in english, what he
had said.
[53] Thus, thanks to the genius of Victory, the public will soon have
the pleasure of seeing these four magnificent compositions united in the
_Musée Central_, or Central Museum.
[54] “The gratitude of the country dedicates this building to the memory
of great men.”
[55] You must ask that question of the government. The church will
probably be finished, when the government has so much money, as not to
know what to do with it otherwise.
[56] Here reposes the man of nature and of truth.
[57] He enlightens the world even from the tomb.
[58] To the manes of Voltaire, the national assembly passed a decree, on
the 30th of may, 1791, declaring, that he deserved the honours due to the
memory of great men.
[59] Poet, historian, philosopher, he enlarged the human mind and taught
it, that it ought to be free.
[60] He defended Calas, Serven, de la Barre, and Mont Bally.
[61] He combated atheists and fanatics. He preached tolerance. He
vindicated the rights of man against the monster Feudality.
[62] The return of Zephyr.
[63] _Orangerie._—The following description, given by _la Fontaine_
of the same place in his time, is exactly descriptive of its present
situation:
“_Comme nos gens avoient encore de loisir ils firent un tour à
l’orangerie. La beauté et le nombre des orangers et des autres plantes
qu’on y conserve on ne sauroit exprimer. Il y a tel de ces arbres qui a
resisté aux attaques de cent hivers._”
“As our _friends_ had still some time to spare, they took a turn in the
_orangerie_, or green house. The beauty and number of orange and other
plants here preserved, cannot be described. There are, among these trees,
some which have resisted the attacks of a hundred winters.”
La Fontaine, Amours de Psyche & de Cupidon.
[64] The distance is great from the hand of an assassin to the heart of
an honest man.
[65] The king’s apartment.
[66] Lodging account at the Little Trianon.
Francs.
Three masters’ rooms 36
Wax lights 6
Wood 9
Four servants’ beds 12
--
Total 63
N. B. Sixty-three francs of french money make exactly two guineas and a
half english; and this sum was asked for one night’s lodging (without
eating or wine) for three masters’ beds and four servants’.
[67] To the nation.
[68] The ambassador of the emperor of Russia.
[69] To fleece strangers.
[70] “Ladies of good company,” or, as we should say in english, women of
character.
[71] Carriages in the english fashion, or carriages really english.
[72] What a fine sight! what pretty carriages! what beautiful horses!
what elegant dresses! Really it is charming!
[73]
How I pity the frenchman, whose gayety’s lost;
The creature’s a wretch, from his element toss’d.
[74] Official defenders.
[75] Hackney coach.
[76] That all the good company of Paris went there.
[77] _Surveillance_—Watch, or special care.
[78] Formerly a convent.
[79] Molière and Thalia rest in this grave.
[80] Nicholas Boileau is in this tomb.
[81] My cares, as well as my happy days, are past. I feel no longer the
indignation of my youthful anger, and leave an open course to the tribe
of dull and cold versificators.
[82] French Parnassus.
[83] The following is nearly the exact translation:
“My dear heart, we have just dined, and are very drunk. I will see you
before I set out from Paris, and will caress you not as you deserve, but
as I can. The bearer hurries me so much, that I can only say this one
word—good night, my dear heart, I kiss you a million of times.
8
This XIIIIIth october, 8 H 8
8
HENRY.”
[84] The national garden of plants.
[85] Among the curious quadrupeds here preserved is the _Camelopardalis_.
_Vide Vaillant’s Travels in Africa._
[86] I do not mention _l’École Polytechnique_, that admirable
institution, in which eight hundred young men, named by the government
(principally as a reward for the services of their fathers), are
liberally educated, because it forms part of the system of public
instruction, which, being of a political nature, is foreign to my object.
In this letter I only mean to point out those establishments, from which
foreigners can derive either information or pleasure.
[87] The boiled beef, which, after making the soup, is always served
at a trench table. “Le vin ordinaire,” or common wine, is a weak, sour
beverage, which costs about sixpence english per bottle, and is not,
either in taste or strength, superiour to our small beer.
[88] The boxes “au baignoir” are on the level with the pit, under the
first tier, and are in the shape of a bath, from which they take their
name.
[89] Persons going to France ought to know, that, the exchange being at
present against England, we regularly lose from _five_ to _seven_ per
cent on the money drawn from the latter country. This loss must of course
be added to the calculation of expenses on the continent.
[90] I have heard, since I left Paris, that a very fine house, formerly
belonging to a nobleman, and known by the name of “_l’Hôtel de
Beauveau_,” has lately been opened as an “_hôtel garni_,” and assumed the
title of “_Hôtel de Prince de Galle_.” It stands in “_la Rue Fauxbourg
St. Honoré_,” nearly fronting one of the avenues to the _Champs Elisées_.
In spring the situation must be very pleasant. It is at a considerable
distance from the theatres, but in a most respectable part of the town.
[91] “_Restaurateurs_” are tavern keepers, where dinners are served.
[92] Visits.—It is the custom, in all parts of France, and particularly
at Paris, to receive and pay perpetual visits. The whole of every evening
is passed in a _routine_ of this kind (when the _spectacle_ offers no
irresistible temptation); and a parisian _belle_ was, the other day,
quite astonished and disgusted, when I told her, that in England ladies
seldom received the visits of young men.—“_Qu’elle vie ennuyeuse que
votre vie de Londres!_” exclaimed the fair one; “_qu’on doit passer des
tristes journées!_ Que peut elle faire, une malheureuse anglaise, après
diner?”
“Elle va aux assemblées ou à l’opera—Mais si elle est malade?
“Elle reste chez elle.”
“_Quoi_ toute seule! que _vos dames sont à plaindre_! Que _je me félicite
d’être françoise! Sans les visites de quelques amis choisis, je mourrois
d’ennui._”
What a dull life must your english manners afford! What dismal days must
one pass in such a country! What can a poor english lady do after dinner?
She goes to assemblies, or to the opera.
But if she is ill—
She stays at home.
What quite alone? Oh, how I pity your poor english ladies! Oh, how I
rejoice at being born a frenchwoman! without the visits of a few well
chosen friends I should die of _ennui_.
Notwithstanding this passion for receiving and returning visits among
one another, the french are frequently negligent in this respect towards
the foreigners who are recommended to them. I have heard english ladies
at Paris complain, that their visits were often not returned at all, and
that that early attention was rarely shown as to this little _etiquette_,
which well bred persons in England are so careful to observe.
[93] _Boulotte_ is a gambling game much played at Paris, and said to be
the support of several families.
[94] This was, of course, written before the late changes in the
government, which appear to provide against this event. I leave the
remark unaltered, as, in the first place, this provision comes not from
the people, but from the first consul himself. Secondly, this arrangement
is only on paper, and if it last the life of Bonaparte, will scarcely be
respected after his death.
[95] It is Bonaparte who does every thing—every thing is submitted to
him—every thing is possible for him.
[96] Among the old friends of my family, from whom we received particular
kindness, I shall be pardoned for naming madame (la ci-devant comtesse)
d’H—t, so frequently mentioned in the confessions of _Jean Jacques_,
and the real model on which he formed his imaginary Heloise. We had
the pleasure of passing some days at her country seat, in the valley
of Montmorency, and several evenings at her hotel at Paris. This
accomplished woman, who at the age of thirty, had the talent to attract,
and the virtue to resist the affection of Rousseau, has still at seventy,
that amiability of manner, that suavity of disposition, and that fund of
enlightened conversation, which, notwithstanding the disadvantages of a
person far from handsome, gained her the love of that extraordinary man.
The latter has been very unjust in the character which he has drawn of
the husband of this lady. He is still living, and is a respectable man
of ancient family, independent fortune, and irreproachable reputation.
_St. Lambert_, the Thomson of France, resides with Mr. and madame d’H—t,
and his extreme old age receives from their attention the comforts and
kindness of unvarying friendship.
[97] There are innumerable houses at Paris in which, with every
appearance of respectability, and often with the assistance of some lofty
sounding title, the unwary stranger often finds his ruin. Amidst the
smiles of beauty, the splendour of foreign orders, the jollity of wine,
and the gaiety of dancing, youth loses its prudence, and one evening’s
entertainment is paid by the loss of that fortune, on which a man’s
happiness, and perhaps that of many dear relatives depended.
INDEX.
A.
Advocates, 223
Affaire manquée, definition of the term, 44
Albani, Francesco, his paintings, 32
Amiens, 6
Ancienne noblesse, account of, 55, 57
a ball of, 140
Antiquities, cabinet of, 16
Apathy of the french people, 179
Apollo Belvidere, 16, 18
Arabian horses, 202
Archbishop of Paris, 217
of Tours, 218
Artistes, théâtre des jeunes, 130
Athénée, 255
Aveyron, savage of, 109
B.
Bagatelle, garden of, 231
Ball, a public, 92
Ball, a private, 140
Ballets, 123
Bargains, necessity of making them, 280, 283
Beggars, 5
Berthier, general, 139
Bendette, paintings of, 31
Blind, Institutions for the, 103
Boissy d’Anglass, 90
Bois de Boulogne, 175, 228
Bonaparte, first consul, account of, 81, 158, 161
court of, 159
dinner with, 247
madame, 43, 188, 220
Lucien, 188
Boulevards, 229
Brun, le, the third consul, 59
Charles, paintings of, 23
Burgoing, mademoiselle, 116, 117
C.
Calais, 2
Caravaggio, Michael Angelo Amerigi, 34
Cardinal legate, 217
Carnival, 152
Carracci, Agostino, 33
Lodovico, 33, 173
Antonio, 33
Annibale, _ib._
Carriages, 177, 209, 211
job, 270
Castiglione, Gio Benedetto, his paintings, 31
Cavedone, James, 35
Champagne, Philip of, 25
Champ de Mars, 237
Champs Elisées, 228
Chantilly, 7
Claissens, Anthony, 25
Clotilde, mademoiselle, 124
Cloud, St., 192
Comparison between London and Paris, 282
Concert of the blind, 104
Conciergerie, 225
Concordat, 188
Contat, mademoiselle, 118
Cornwallis, lord, 67
Corregio, 35
Costume of dress, 93, 176
Cosway, Maria, copying the principal pictures in the Museum for
prints, 15
Court of Bonaparte, 159
of madame Bonaparte, 188
Criminal law, 224
D.
Dancers, 123, 190
Dances, 95, 142
Dancing, 144
Deaf and dumb, 69
Dessein’s hotel, 3
Dinner with Bonaparte, 247
Domenichino, 35
Douaine at Calais, 2
Dover, 1
Duel, frivolous occasion of one, 233
Dress, 93, 176
Durer, Albert, 25
Dutch school of painting, _ib._
Dyck, Anthony Van, 26, 173
Philip Van, 27
E.
École Militaire, 238
Edouard en Ecosse, 146
Élèves, theatre of, 131
Elephant, account of, 261
Emigrés, their conduct to the english, 57, 58
Enfans trouvés, 236
English language most simple and natural in its construction, 70
Engravings, cabinet of, 253
Exorbitant demands at Versailles, 198
Expenses at Paris, 266
F.
Fashions, 176
Ferrari, Gandertio, 36
Fête for the peace, 40
Feydeau, théâtre, 125
Fire arms, manufacture of, 195
Fireworks, 50
Fitzjames, the ventriloquist, 132
Flemish school of painting, 25
Fleury, the actor, 119
Fond, la, 116
Footmen, english, publicly forbidden to wear laced hats, 178
Fournisseur, assembly at the house of a, 137
Fox, Mr., opinion entertained of him, as an orator, in french
society, 78
French school of painting, 23
Frescati, 231
Furniture of the houses in Paris, 60, 295
G.
Gallery of paintings, 11, 166
of statues, 16
Galvanism explained by Massieu, deaf and dumb, 106
Gambling houses, 99
Gardens of Paris, 228, 229
Garden, national, of plants, 260, 261
Généviève, St., 182
Gens d’armes, 216
German school of painting, 25
Germain, St., 203
Globes, 250
Gobelins, 235
Governmental class of society, 55, 59
Guards, consular, 84