LETTER XXX.
General account of literary establishments at Paris.—National library.—Manuscripts.—Memoirs of his own times, by Lewis XIV.—Fac simile of a love letter of Henry IV.—Cabinet of medals.—Cabinet of engravings, &c.—Library of the Pantheon.—Mazarine library.—Library of the Institute.—Libraries of the senate, the legislative body, and tribunate.—The Lycées, now called les Athénées.—Admirable lectures given at one of them.—Professors Fourcroy, Cuvier, and la Harpe.—“L’Institute national.”—“Jardin national des Plantes”—Collection of birds, plants, fossils, and insects, in the house attached to the “Jardin des Plantes.”—“Cabinet de l’École des Mines, à l’Hôtel des Monnoies.”—Great opportunities afforded at Paris of cultivating science and literature in all their various branches.
Paris, may the 10th, 1802 (20 floréal.)
MY DEAR SIR,
I have postponed speaking to you of the literary establishments of Paris, till my residence here had been sufficiently long to enable me to give my opinion with some degree of certainty.
Perhaps there is no town in the known world, which affords such favourable opportunities of acquiring and cultivating knowledge, as that from which I am now writing. On this subject, equality in the best sense exists; and while the poor man has the finest libraries, and most extensive collections opened to his use, without any expense whatever, he, whose circumstances are moderately easy, obtains, for a trifling consideration, every possible means of additional improvement.
The national library, which existed during the monarchy, and was founded by Charles the fifth, occupies a large building in the rue de la Loi (ci-devant de Richelieu). An elegant staircase, painted by Pelegrini, leads to the spacious apartments on the first floor, which take up three sides of the large court by which you enter, and which contain no less than three hundred thousand printed volumes. Five or six rooms, well lighted and well aired, offer on each side the best books, in every science and in every language. Tables are placed for the convenience of students, and attentive librarians civilly deliver the works which are asked for.
In the second room is a curious piece of workmanship, called “le Parnasse françois[82]” by Titon Dutillet, in which the different poets and writers of France are represented as climbing up the steep ascent of that difficult but inspired mountain. In my opinion, it deserves attention more as a specimen of national taste, and private industry, than as a production either of genius or of beauty.
In the third “salon” are the celebrated globes, the one celestial, the other terrestrial, made in 1683, by the jesuit Coronelli, for the cardinal d’Estrées. They are of immense dimensions, but require new painting; as, in the first place, they were made before the last discoveries, and secondly, the colours are almost entirely effaced by the lapse of time.
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.