THE MONUMENT.
About two hundred yards north of London bridge, is situated one of the finest pillars in the world, erected by Sir Christopher Wren, in memory of the great fire, which, in 1666, broke out at a house on this spot, and destroyed the metropolis from the Tower to Temple Bar. It is a fluted column of the Doric order; its total hight is two hundred and two feet; the diameter at the base is fifteen feet; the hight of the column, one hundred and twenty feet; and the cone at the top, with its urn, forty-two feet. The hight of the massy pedestal is forty feet. Within the column is a flight of three hundred and forty-five steps; and from the iron balcony at the top is a most fascinating prospect of the metropolis and the adjacent country. It is impossible not to lament the obscure situation of this beautiful monument, which, in a proper place, would form one of the most striking objects of the kind that architecture is capable of producing.
THE LOUVRE.
This splendid palace, which was planned in the reign of Francis I., at the commencement of the sixteenth century, is a quadrangular edifice, having a court in the center, and forming a square of about four hundred and sixteen English feet. The front was built in the reign of Louis XIV., and is one of the most beautiful monuments of his reign. A spacious gallery, fourteen hundred and fifty English feet in length, connects this palace with that of the Tuilleries. Here was displayed, under the title of the Musee Napoleon, that inestimable collection of paintings, one thousand and thirty in number, consisting of the chefs-d’œuvre of the great masters of antiquity, and constituting a treasury of human art and genius, far surpassing every other similar institution. The ante-room leading to the gallery contained several exquisite paintings, the fruits of the triumphs of Bonaparte, or which had been presented to him by the sovereigns who had cultivated his alliance. This apartment was styled by the Parisians the Nosegay of Bonaparte: its most costly pictures were from the gallery of the Grand Duke of Tuscany; and to these were added a selection from those procured at Venice, Naples, Turin and Bologna.
It would be impossible adequately to describe the first impressions made on the spectator on his entrance into the gallery, where such a galaxy of genius and art was offered to his contemplation. It was lined by the finest productions of the French, Flemish and Italian schools, and divided by a curious double painting upon slate, placed on a pedestal in the middle of the room, representing the front and back views of the same figures. From the Museum the visitor descends into the Salle des Antiques, containing the finest treasures of Grecian and Roman statuary. His notice is instantly attracted by the Belvidere Apollo, a statue surpassing, in the opinion of connoisseurs, all the others in the collection. This matchless statue is thus described by Sir John Carr, in his work entitled “The Stranger in France.” “All the divinity of a god beams through this unrivaled perfection of form. It is impossible to impart the impressions which it inspires: the riveted beholder is ready to exclaim with Adam, when he first discerns the approach of Raphael:
“‘Behold what glorious shape
Comes this way moving: seems another morn
Risen on mid-noon; some great behest from heaven.’
“The imagination can not form such an union of grace and strength. One of its many transcendent beauties consists in its aerial appearance and exquisite expression of motion.” The Medicean Venus, from the palace Pitti, at Florence, also formed a part of this magnificent collection of statues. The classic Addison, in speaking of this statue, which he saw at Florence, observes, that it appeared to him much less than life, in consequence of its being in the company of others of a larger size; but that it is, notwithstanding, as large as the ordinary size of women, as he concluded from the measure of the wrist; since, in a figure of such nice proportions, from the size of any one part it is easy to guess at that of the others. The fine polish of the marble, communicating to the touch a sensation of fleshy softness, the delicacy of the shape, air and posture, and the correctness of design, in this celebrated statue, are not to be expressed.
The Paris museum, and Salle des Antiques, although deprived, at the termination of the contest with France, of so many chefs-d’œuvre of art, still contain others which render them highly interesting. The finest productions of Le Brun, several of them on an immense scale, still remain; as do likewise the matchless marine paintings by Vernet; the truly sublime works of Poussin, consisting of the chief of his masterpieces; together with many choice paintings by Rubens, Wouvermans, De Witte, &c. Many of the statues remaining in the Salle des Antiques are likewise admirable specimens of sculpture. In the gallery of the Louvre a very curious collection of models, representing the fortresses of France and other countries, was once exhibited; but it was removed, that the paintings might be seen with greater effect. These models, executed in the reign of Louis XIV., and amounting to upward of one hundred and eighty, were wrought with the greatest accuracy, and so naturally, as to represent the several cities which they describe, with their streets, houses, squares and churches, together with the works, moats, bridges and rivers, not neglecting the adjacent territory, as consisting of plains, mountains, corn-lands, meadows, gardens, woods, &c. Several of these models were so contrived as to be taken in pieces, so that the curious observer might be better able to perceive their admirable construction.