A rough sketch of modern Paris

by J. G. Lemaistre

I beg your pardon for this digression. I return to the bois de Boulogne; when the day is fine, the promenade is very lively; and the grotesque figures produced by the unnatural union of french finery, and english simplicity, serve to distinguish it from every thing else of the kind in Europe. In returning from this motley scene, at four o’clock to day, I heard the sound of cannon: I learnt soon after, with inexpressible joy that the news of the signature of the definitive treaty was just arrived. Happy day, which gives peace to all the world; may you long be remembered, and may many, many years pass over, before you have a successor! at six, the whole façade of the Thuilleries, its garden, “les Invalides,” and the hotel of the minister of marine, were all (as if by magic), splendidly illuminated. It grieves me to add, that this important intelligence has produced no effect at Paris. It has scarcely been mentioned in society, and I have walked about, the whole evening, admiring the taste with which the public buildings were lighted; and heartily joining in the satisfaction which occasioned them, without meeting one single group of french spectators. Indifference is “the order of the day;” and I really believe, that no subject of any kind could animate the parisians, or rouse them from the stupid apathy, into which they have fallen, on the subject of politics. If “spectacles” have lost their attraction, it is in vain to try any other method; for these are the “penates” of the inhabitants of this great city. I hope and trust, that the peace will be received in England, in a very different manner. All good men will unite in rejoicing at the termination of a war, which, whether “just and necessary,” as some assert, or wantonly undertaken as others represent, was attended with such an unusual waste of public money, private happiness, and human blood.

I sincerely congratulate you, my dear sir, on this, the happiest event, which England has known for many years.

I remain, &c.

LETTER XXII.

The palais du Luxembourg.—Théâtre d’Odéon.—The pantheon or St. Généviève.—Tombs of Rousseau and Voltaire.

Paris, april the 1st, 1802 (11 germinal).

MY DEAR SIR,

I went yesterday to see the palace of the Luxembourg, now appropriated to the use of the conservative senate, originally the residence of monsieur, the king’s brother; and afterwards that of the executive directory. The building is now undergoing a thorough repair. It is therefore impossible to judge of it properly, in its present state. The grand façade, or front, remains unaltered, and is strikingly magnificent. I viewed it with particular pleasure; as the college at Oxford, where I passed some of the happiest days of my life, and to which I have still the honour of belonging, was built after the model of this celebrated palace. This circumstance recalled so many interesting remembrances, that I with difficulty tore myself from the gates of the Luxembourg. I am told, that the proposed alterations are to be made on a great and extended scale; and that every member of the senate, is to have here, a distinct house, or spacious apartment. The gardens are also to receive every possible improvement. Several workmen were already employed in carrying this design into execution; but the whole is still too imperfect to give any idea of what it may ultimately become. I saw nothing but half formed gravel walks, formal avenues of trees, and preparations for a round basin of standing water. The ground is indeed too much surrounded with houses, ever to make what we should call in England, a fine garden.

The magnificent theatre, called, “le théâtre français de l’Odéon,” which formerly stood near the Luxembourg, and which was one of the most magnificent buildings of the kind in Europe, was, a few years ago, entirely burnt down, in the course of eight and forty hours. Nothing remains but the stone front, which the fire could not destroy, and which still serves to ornament this part of the town.