PARIS, ----.

_My dear Sister:_--

I do not wonder that you are surprised at my not having yet described

to you the "Royal Garden of Plants." The fact is, we have been thrice

disappointed in our arrangements to go there, but at last have

accomplished our project, and devoted both Tuesday and Wednesday to

the investigation of this famed spot, and we have seen nothing in

Paris that has interested us more. It is of great extent, and affords

the visiter as much information as amusement. It was founded by Jean

de Brosses, the physician of Louis XIII, and much improved by the

exertions of Buffon the naturalist. It contains various enclosures,

some of which are appropriated to botany, and display every plant,

flower and shrub, native and foreign, that can be made to grow there.

Each is labelled, and bears its botanical name; and there are spacious

hot-houses for such as require shelter and extreme care. We remarked

here some fine specimens of the bread tree and sugar cane. Other

enclosures are filled with all sorts of culinary vegetables. There are

besides, nurseries of fruit trees and samples of different kinds of

fences, hedges and ditches, and of various soils and manures. The

enclosures are separated by wide gravel walks,

"Bounded by trees, with seats beneath the shade,

For talking age and whispering lovers made."

In the centre of the garden is an artificial hill, crowned with a

temple, from which you enjoy a view of the city, and may aid your

sight with a spy glass, by paying a trifle to a man who owns it and

generally sits there, for the purpose of hiring it, and indicating to

strangers the names of the public edifices visible in the perspective.

On the way to the temple, you pass under a huge and towering cedar of

Lebanon, which De Jussieu the botanist planted more than eighty years

ago. This superb tree was considerably injured during the revolution;

and had it not been for the remonstrances and influence of Humboldt

the traveller, the whole garden would probably be now in a ruinous

condition--for when the allies were in Paris, it was owing to his

exertions that the Prussians were prevented encamping there.

The menagerie exhibits the greatest variety of animals. The ferocious

are kept in iron cages; those that are gentle, in enclosures and

habitations suitable to their propensities and natures, and

embellished with such trees and shrubs as are found in their native

climes. Goats for instance, are furnished with artificial acclivities

for climbing, and bears with dens and rugged posts. The populace often

throw biscuits and fruit to the bears, in order to witness their

endeavors to catch them; but this is dangerous diversion, for in doing

this, a boy was not sufficiently alert in his movements, and ere he

withdrew his arm, had it severely lacerated by the eager animal. On

another occasion, a careless nurse, while amusing herself in a similar

manner, let a child fall in, which was instantly devoured! Among the

gentlest and most curious of the quadrupeds, is the giraff, or camel

leopard, which was brought from Africa about two years ago, and threw

all Paris into commotion. Thousands visited him daily, and belts,

reticules, gloves, kerchiefs, and even cakes and blanc mangés were

decorated with his image. It is said that he possesses both sagacity

and sensibility, to prove which the following anecdote is related of

him. As his keepers were bringing him to Paris, they were joined by a

man on horseback, who continued to bear them company for several

miles, until he came to another road. The giraff, which had manifested

great delight when the traveller first appeared, then evinced deep

distress, and even shed tears! Upon inquiry, it was found that the

traveller's horse and the giraff were from the same part of Africa,

and probably old acquaintances. This is a marvellous story, I must

confess; nevertheless, many persons believe it. I will now tell you

another less incredible, and which shews to what perfection the flower

makers here carry their art. The giraff is very fond of rose leaves;

and not long since, seeing a bunch of artificial roses in a lady's

bonnet, and thinking them natural, he seized hold of them, and pulled

with such force, that he soon had possession of hat and all. It must

have been a ludicrous scene. He is so delicate, that strict attention

is obliged to be paid to his food and lodging. The first consists of

_delicate_ vegetables, and the heat of the last is regulated by a

thermometer; and his African attendant sleeps near to guard him and

supply his wants. Leaving the quadrupeds, we proceeded to look at the

birds, which are also admirably arranged. The water fowls have their

pools and lakes--the ostrich its sands, and so on.

I have now detailed what we saw on Tuesday. On Wednesday we returned

to the garden, and examined the Library, the Museum of Natural

History, and the Cabinet of Comparative Anatomy, where, for the first

time in my life, I beheld the human form, divested of its skin and

flesh, and changed to a machine of dried bones and sinews, and

bloodless veins! The sight made me shudder, and I felt relieved when

we came away.

Not far from the Garden of Plants, at the corner of the Rue

Mouffetarde, is the celebrated manufactory of Gobelin Tapestry, which

derives its name from a dyer who first owned the establishment, and

employed himself in coloring worsteds. Colbert, the patriotic champion

of the arts and sciences, during his ministry, occasioned the rise and

perfection of it in the following manner. He engaged workmen to weave

tapestry in imitation of that of Flanders. The attempt succeeded, and

such has been the proficiency of those who have since carried on the

work, that their productions are now equal to any others of the kind.

You may imagine what care and expense is required in the business,

when I inform you that a single piece of tapestry frequently demands

two years labor to finish it, and has cost almost three hundred pounds

sterling!

The clock is striking two, and I must prepare for a ride in the Bois

de Boulogne. It being a delightful afternoon, we shall no doubt find

it alive with carriages, pedestrians and equestrians. Those who repair

there in coaches, usually drive to a pleasant spot, and then descend

to walk to and fro in the shade, for air and exercise, until the

approach of the dinner hour, or some other engagement calls them

elsewhere. Farewell.

The southern literary messenger, Vol. I., No. 12, August, 1835 · 第 18 / 72 题