Among churches of the later period, the domes and their development are worthy of study, as illustrating the ideal of the 17th and 18th cents. The earliest was St. Paul et St. Louis (originally Jesuit), 1627, with a massive and gaudy Louis XIV doorway; interior, florid and tawdry, after the Jesuit fashion. Next comes the Sorbonne, 1635, interesting from its original connection with St. Louis (his confessor, Robert de Sorbon, founded the hostel, of which this is the far later church, for poor theological students); it is the first important dome, and contains an overrated monument to Richelieu by Lebrun, executed by Girardon. If you have plenty of time, you may visit it. Then the Invalides, 1705, now containing the tomb of Napoleon. Lastly, the Panthéon, already described. If visited in this order, they form an instructive series. Note the gradual increase in classicism, which culminates in the Madeleine. The earlier domes resemble those of the Rome of Bernini: the later grow more and more Grecian in their surroundings. The Institut (included here for its dome) and Val-de-Grâce are sufficiently inspected with a glance in passing.
The churches of the innermost Paris are mostly dedicated to local saints; those of the outer ring of Louis XIV to a somewhat wider circle of Catholic interest; among them, St. Roch, the famous plague-saint, deserves a visit; it is rococo and vulgar, but representative. The churches in the outer ring are of still broader dedication, often to newer saints of humanitarian or doctrinal importance. Among these quite modern buildings, St. Vincent-de-Paul ranks first, on account of its magnificent frieze by Flandrin, running round the nave, and representing a procession of saints and martyrs, suggested by the mosaics in Sant’ Apollinare Nuovo at Ravenna; this the visitor should on no account omit; it lies near the Gare du Nord, and is a good example of the basilica style, successfully adapted to modern needs. Baedeker will here efficiently serve you. But, though artistically fine, Flandrin’s frescoes are not nearly so effective as the original mosaics in Theodoric’s basilica. The other great modern churches—St. Augustin, St. Ambroise, La Trinité, Notre-Dame-de-Lorette, Ste. Clotilde, etc.—need only be visited by those who have plenty of time, and who take an intelligent interest in contemporary Catholicism. But, if you can manage it, you should certainly mount the hill of Montmartre, the most sacred site in Paris, both for the sake of the splendid view, for the memories of St. Denis (the common legend says, beheaded here; a variant asserts, buried for the first time before his translation to the Abbey of St. Denis), and for the interesting modern Byzantine-Romanesque pile of the Sacré-Cœur which now approaches completion. Close by is the quaint old church of St. Pierre-de-Montmartre, and behind it a curious belated Calvary.
Those whom this book may have interested in church-lore will find very full details on all these subjects in Miss Beale’s “Churches of Paris.” Another useful book is Lonergan’s “Historic Churches of Paris.” With the key I have striven to give, and the aid of these works, the visitor should be able to unlock for himself the secrets of all the churches.
Two pretty little parks which deserve a passing visit are the Parc Monceau, near the Ternes, and still more, the Buttes Chaumont, in the heart of the poor district of La Villette and Belleville, showing well what can be done by gardening for the beautification of such squalid quarters. The Jardin d’Acclimatation in the Bois de Boulogne, and the Jardin des Plantes, at the extreme east end of the South Side are both interesting, especially to the zoologist and botanist. The last-named is best reached by a pleasant trip on one of the river steamers.
Of collections, not here noted, the most important is the Musée Guimet of Oriental art, near the Trocadéro. It should be visited (if time permits) by all who are interested in Chinese, Japanese, and Indian products. The Trocadéro itself contains a good collection of casts, valuable for the study of comparative plastic development; but they can only be used to effect by persons who can afford several days at least to study them (in other words, residents). The Ethnographical Museum in the same building is good, but need only detain those who have special knowledge in the subject.
To know what to avoid is almost as important as to know what to visit. Under this category, I may say that no intelligent person need trouble himself about Père-Lachaise and the other cemeteries; the Catacombs; the various Halles or Markets; the interiors of the Conservatoire des Arts et Métiers (except so far as above indicated), the Bourse, the Banque de France, the Bibliothèque Nationale (unless, of course, he is a student and wishes to read there), the Archives, the Imprimerie Nationale, the various Courts and Public Offices, the Gobelins Manufactory, the Sèvres porcelain works, the Institut, the Mint, the Invalides, the Chamber of Deputies, the buildings in the Champ-de-Mars (except while the Salon there is open), the Observatory, and so forth. In Paris proper, I think I have enumerated above almost everything that calls for special notice from any save specialists.
Three Excursions from Paris are absolutely indispensable for any one who wishes to gain a clear idea of the France of the Renaissance and the succeeding epoch.