The tremendous vocabulary of long latin names inscribed on the labels is really enough to appal the most retentive memory that ever existed, and to a person who has never dipped at all into the mysteries of botany I can imagine the terms are rather alarming, words with nineteen letters in them are but trifles compared to others, and a regular John Bull who was scanning them very justly remarked, pointing to the flowers, that it was certainly a favoured spot of Flora, and then alluding to the fruits observed the same of Pomona, but added, he should like very much to know who was the goddess of hard words as he would recommend her to descend upon the same beds, as she would there find a more numerous progeny than either of her rival goddesses. I believe that there are now nearly 10,000 plants arranged according to the system of De Jussieu, in the most simple and perfect manner, so that the student is enabled at once to comprehend the plan, and numbers of both sexes attend even as early as six in the morning copying the names of plants and studying their classification. Although this establishment is called the Garden of Plants, it has many other objects of the highest interest besides what its name indicates. It is at the same time a most extensive menagerie, which first gave the idea that has since been adopted of the Zoological Gardens in Regent's Park; formerly the arrangement exceedingly interested and delighted the English visiter, but now that he has the same thing at home, it has ceased to be a novelty. Each animal having plenty of room to walk about in, was certainly a beautiful thought, and great improvement on confining them in cages, which is now only found necessary with ferocious animals. The bears form a great source of amusement to the people, they are in large square pits about ten or twelve feet below the level of the promenades, and each has a large pole in the middle, with several branches upon which they climb, whilst the visiters throwing bread to them are exceedingly diverted at their successful or unsuccessful attempts to catch it. It would be superfluous to enter upon a description of the great variety of animals assembled in this collection, suffice it to say that I believe there is no living animal who can exist in a Parisian climate, that is not to be found in this garden; generally there are several of a kind, and in case one dies it is immediately replaced by another. The monkeys are the principal objects of attraction, and as soon as they are let out into their little paddock in front of their dwellings, which is only when the day is considered sufficiently warm, crowds of people assemble to witness their grimaces and gambols; they and the bears may be considered as the principal dramatis personæ of the menagerie, and who certainly perform their parts most admirably, never failing to afford the utmost entertainment to the audience: and it is indeed a sort of rivalry between Jocko and Bruin which should play their rôle the best; for my own part I really think I give the preference to the latter, there is something at once so comic and so good natured-looking in the bears, that I feel almost inclined to descend into their pits and caress and pet them as I would a favourite dog, but am only deterred by fearing they would give me a reception rather too warm, and their friendly hug be too overpowering for me to sustain.
There are several buildings in this garden which are applied to various purposes, amongst the rest an Amphitheatre where lectures on all the branches of natural history are delivered. A Cabinet of Anatomy most richly stored occupies one mansion; dissections of the human form, as well as those of almost every animal are here found, besides numerous other curiosities. Amongst other things the progress of a chicken in the egg is exemplified, from its first speck until it has life, which is imitated with the most extraordinary exactness in wax, as also are several fishes which cannot be preserved, besides a numerous collection of fœti and monsters. To see these things properly; would require to pass several days in these rooms; but a week would not suffice to do justice to the grand Museum, every description of bird and beast that has been known to exist in our days may be found here stuffed, and preserved in glass cases with the nicest care; it appears strange to see an enormous elephant and a tall ostrich within a glass case. Here also are to be found every species of fungus, chrysalis, sea-weed, eggs, and nests. But the shells, minerals, and fossils, form so extraordinary and numerous a collection that they are the subject of admiration of every beholder; the polish of the shells, the brilliance of the colours of the plumage of the birds, and the glossy smoothness of the skins of the beasts are as perfect as if they were living, but the same cannot exactly be said of the fishes. The marbles, porphyry, and granite, the lava, basaltes, barks of trees, bones of animals known and unknown, some within stones, are arranged by the celebrated Cuvier, whilst the ores, crystals, jaspers, and extraordinary varieties of ornamental articles formed of these materials occupy several apartments.
In addition to all these objects of high interest, there is a most excellent library, giving every possible information regarding the contents of this delightful establishment; a statue of the great illustrator of the wonders of nature, Buffon, is here most appropriately placed, as also some paintings of plants and animals. Hence it may be easily imagined that persons who have much leisure, and are fond of the study of natural history, may well choose to take up their abode in the neighbourhood, for the convenience of long poring over the beauties of this wonderful Museum. From hence other schools of botany are supplied with seeds, cuttings, suckers, etc., whilst the hospitals of Paris are gratuitously furnished with whatever is requisite for the purposes of medicine; nor must I omit to state that there is a most beautiful aviary, the birds of which are choice selections of the finest of their species, and for those of an aquatic nature, there is a basin of water from the Seine. Even specimens of soils, manures, ditches, ha-has, palisades, frames, and every thing necessary for forming fences are to be found here in every variety. Even to persons who have no scientific information nor desire to obtain knowledge, to walk in the Jardin-des-Plantes (Garden of Plants) affords delight, the number of attractions are such, and of so varied a description that even the dullest mind must be awakened to a sense of pleasure, yet some persons I have seen who regarded all the phenomena collected here with the most stoical indifference; the fact is, that a number of people will not take the trouble to think, and lose the enjoyment they might receive from the wonders of nature; how different if they would but devote to them a little reflexion.
With our minds still deeply impregnated with the impression of the objects we have just contemplated, we will leave the garden, and turning round to the right, we find ourselves upon the Boulevard de l'Hôpital, just facing the Hôpital de la Salpêtrière, which makes up 500 beds for females, who are lunatics, idiots, otherwise diseased, or 70 years of age; it is of immense extent, and conducted with so much order, and such cleanliness prevails both with regard to the inmates and the establishment itself, that it may be considered one of the most gratifying sights in Paris; in fact I have heard many English ladies, much to their credit, declare that not any of the interesting objects which they had seen in the French capital, afforded them more pleasure and satisfaction. Just near it is the terminus for the Orleans railway, which is worthy of observation, and then we will cross over to the horse and dog market and observe the regular system with regard to the stalls and other arrangements which are adopted; it is principally for draught-horses, Wednesdays and Saturdays are the market days, and Sundays for dogs. We must next glance at the Hôpital de la Pitié, founded in 1612 for paupers, it has been since annexed to the Hôtel-Dieu, and contains 600 beds; it is situated No. 1, rue Copeau. Sainte-Pélagie being just by in the Rue de la Clef, we ought to afford it a half hour; it was formerly a convent of nuns, political prisoners are now here confined when committed for trial, or if sentenced to but short terms of imprisonment; it is also appropriated for other offenders whose sentence of confinement is of brief duration, but the military surveillance within and around it is very strict.
The Fountain Cuvier, at the corner of the street of that name, and the Rue St. Victor, must claim a few minutes' attention; it is certainly one amongst those of modern erection possessing great merit. In the Rue Scipion we will cast one look at the great bakehouse for all the hospitals in Paris, to which I have before alluded. The Amphitheatre of Anatomy must occupy some attention, being a suite of anatomical schools only recently built, on a most commodious scale; it forms a corner of the Rues du Fer and Fossés St. Marcel. One thought in passing the ancient Cimetière de Ste. Catherine, closed in 1815, must be devoted to Pichegru, who lies buried there; we then hurry on without loss of time to the manufacture of the Gobelin tapestry. As the little river Bièvre is considered to be peculiarly adapted for dyeing, that process has been carried on from a very remote period on the spot where the present establishment now stands, which owes its foundation to Jean Gobelin in 1450, and under Louis the Fourteenth it was formed into a royal manufactory. To me this is indeed one of the greatest wonders of Paris, how such beautiful specimens of art can be produced when the work is all done behind the frame, so that the artist cannot see the effect of what he is doing, is to me most miraculous; the material used is woollen and silken threads, so woven together, that a perfectly smooth surface is produced, having all the softness and gradation of tints to be found in the finest oil painting, without that glare which varnish produces; the execution of these works is attended by a most tedious application, requiring sometimes six years to complete one piece, which, at 18,000 francs, about seven hundred pounds, is not adequate to recompensing the workmen equal to their merit and perseverance; about 120 men are constantly employed, principally for the Government or the Royal Family.
Attached to this establishment is the Royal Carpet Manufactory; such as are here produced are considered superior to those of Persia, with regard to the evenness of the surface, the strength, durability, and fineness of the workmanship, the beauty of the designs, and the brilliance of the colours, which are such as can never be surpassed, but if they were ever allowed to be sold, the price would be so enormous that some would amount to 150,000 francs (6000l.) The accuracy with which the pictures of Rubens have been copied is most extraordinary, as it may be said that the operative works in the dark. One carpet has been produced for the Gallery of the Louvre, consisting of seventy-two pieces, forming a total exceeding 1,300 feet which is supposed to be the largest carpet ever made. The same facility exists for foreigners seeing this exhibition, as with all others, the passport being presented, Wednesdays and Saturdays, from one to three in winter, and from two to four in the summer.
A curious old house, termed the Maison de St. Louis or de la Reine Blanche, is worth notice, in the Rue des Marmouzets; it may have been inhabited by a queen of that name, but certainly not the mother of St. Louis, as it is not sufficiently ancient, being of about the time of Charles the Seventh, when it was the rage to build houses in that style of architecture, about the period of from 1440 to 1460. The church of St. Medard, in the Rue Mouffetard, offers nothing remarkable, but a mixture of different styles of architecture, according to the epochs at which it was repaired and embellished; in 1561 a tremendous attack was made upon it by the Calvinists, when several of the congregation were killed, and the Abbé Paris, having been buried in the cemetery attached in 1727, his tomb, it is pretended, had certain convulsions in 1730, and was the origin of the sect called convulsionists, and the scenes which occurred caused the cemetery to be closed in 1732. A picture of St. Genenieve, by Watteau, in the chapel of that saint, must be admired, having much merit. In the Rue de l'Oursine, No. 95, is an hospital which is a refuge for sinning and afflicted females (something in the nature of the Magdalen, in London), containing 300 beds. To the fountain of Bacchus, at the corner of the Rue Censier, we will give a look en passant, as also to the School of Pharmacy, formerly a convent, in the garden of which was formed the first botanical garden, in 1580; there is here a cabinet of specimens of drugs and a collection of mineralogy worthy of examination; it is situated in the Rue de l'Arbalète, No. 13.
The Hôpital Militaire and Church of the Val de Grâce is in the Rue St. Jacques (vide page 96) and is one which particularly merits attention of the visiter; the vault of the dome is painted upon the stone by Mignard, and is justly celebrated as one of the most splendid frescos in France; the heart of Anne of Austria, the foundress of it, was sent here, as also those of many succeeding members of the Royal Family. The interior of the church is much admired for the richness of its architecture. At No. 3, Rue de la Bourbe, is the Lying-in Hospital, formerly the Abbey of Port Royal, containing 445 beds; any woman, eight months advanced in pregnancy, is admitted, if there be room to receive her, without an inquiry, if she be in distress; she enters into an engagement to support the child, and if she cannot fulfil it, she must make a declaration and it is sent to the Foundling Hospital, but if she retain it, clothing and a small sum of money is given her on quitting the hospital. A school for midwifery is established here, the practitioners being females, who, when considered competent, receive a diploma from the physicians who are appointed judges.
Just by this establishment is the Observatory, erected in the reign of Louis XV; it is a most curious piece of architecture, having in it neither wood nor iron; it is not a large building, but has a fine appearance, and Perrault was the architect; it is vaulted throughout, and a geometrical staircase, having a vacuity of 170 feet deep, merits particular notice. There is a circular universal chart upon the pavement of one of the apartments. By means of mechanical arrangements the roof and cupola open, and every night, the weather permitting, astronomical observations are taken. M. Arago, the most celebrated astronomer of France, lectures here, where there is every facility, and every instrument to be found requisite for the promotion of the science of astronomy; there are two pluvia-meters, for ascertaining the quantity of rain that falls in Paris during a year. There is a general map of France, called the Carte de Cassini, containing 182 sheets, a marble statue of Cassini (the author of the work) attests the high estimation in which he was held; he died in 1712, aged eighty-seven. This institution is the just admiration of all scientific men from every civilized part of the world, but it is an astronomer alone who can thoroughly appreciate its merits.
The little hospital, founded by M. Cochin, in 1780, being just by No. 45, Rue du Faubourg St. Jacques, may claim our hasty look, it contains 114 beds, and the patients receive the attendance of the Sœurs de St. Marthe. At No. 9, Rue des Capucins, Faubourg St. Jacques, is an hospital for men and youths above fifteen, whose excesses have brought on disease; it is styled Hôpital des Vénériens, and contains 300 beds; the attendants are all males.