If these objects of art are to be taken away, it should be stipulated so in the treaty of peace; and then everybody would understand it. This would be putting it on the fairest footing. You then say to France: "You gained these things by conquest; you lose them by defeat"; but for God's sake let us have no more of that cant about revolutionary robberies!
PARIS, ——
I went for the first time to the Grand Opera, or, as it is here called, the Académie Royale de Musique, which is in the Rue de Richelieu. Armida was the piece performed, the music by Glück. The decorations were splendid and the dancing beyond all praise. The scenes representing the garden of Armida and the nymphs dancing fully expressed in the mimic art those beautiful lines of Tasso:
Cogliam d'amor la rosa! amiamo or, quando
Esser si puote riamato amando![36]
The effect of the dissolution of the palace and gardens by the waving of Armida's wand is astonishing; it appears completely to be the work of inchantment, from the rapidity of execution which follows the potentissime parole. The French recitative however does not please me. The serious opera is an exotic and does not seem to thrive on the soil of France. The language does not possess sufficient intonation to give effect to the recitative.
On the contrary, the comic operas are excellent; and here the national music and singing appear to great advantage. It never degenerates to the grotesque or absurd buffo of the Italians, but is always exquisitely graceful, simple, touching and natural.
Among the ballets, I have seen perhaps three of the best, viz., Achille à Scyros, Flore et Zéphire and La folle par amour. In the ballet of Flore and Zéphire, the dancers who did these two parts appeared more aerian than earthly. To use a phrase of Burke's, I never beheld so beautiful a vision. Nina, or la folle par amour, is a ballet from private life. The title sufficiently explains its purport; it is exquisitely touching and pathetic. O what a divine creature is Bigottini! what symmetry of form! what innate grace, what a captivating expression of countenance; and then the manner in which she did the mad scenes and her return to reason! Oh! I was moved even to tears. Never had any performance such an effect upon me. What a magnificent tout ensemble is the Grand Opera at Paris! Whenever I feel chagrined or melancholy I shall come here; I feel as if I were in a new world; the fiction appears reality; my senses are ravished, and I forget all my cares.
I have very little pleasure in visiting royal Palaces, unless they have been the residence of some transcendent, person like Napoleon or Frederick II of Prussia, as the sight of splendid furniture and royal pomp affords me no gratification; and I would rather visit Washington's or Lafayette's farms in company with these distinguished men than dine with all the monarchs of Europe. After a hasty glance at the furniture of the Tuileries, what fixed my attention for a considerable time was "La Salle des Maréchaux," where are the portraits of all the modern French Marshalls. They are all full length portraits and are striking resemblances; some are in the Marshall's undress uniform and others in the full court costume which is very elegant, being the costume of the time of Francis I with the Spanish hat and plumes. I did not observe Ney's or Soult's portraits among them.
In front of the great square of the Tuileries where the troops exercise, stands the Arch of Triumph erected by Napoleon, commonly called l'Arc du Carrousel. It is a beautiful piece of architecture, but is far too small to tally with such a vast mass of buildings as the Palace and offices of the Tuileries. By the side of them it appears almost Lilliputian. It would have been better to have made it in the style of the triumphal arch of the Porte St Denis. On this arc of the Carrousel are bas-reliefs both outside and inside, representing various actions of Napoleon's life. He is always represented in the Roman costume, with the imperial laurel on his brows, with kings kneeling, and presenting the keys of conquered cities. On the outside are statues, large as life, in modern military costume, representing the different armes which compose the French army.[37] On the top of this Arc du Carrousel is an antique car of triumph, to which are harnessed the four bronze horses which were taken from the façade of the Church of San Marco in Venice. They are of beautiful workmanship and of great antiquity. What various and mighty revolutions have these horses witnessed! Cast in Corinth in the time of the glories of the Grecian commonwealths and removed by conquest to Rome, they witnessed the successive fall of the Grecian and Roman states; transferred to Constantinople in the time of Constantine, and from thence removed to Venice when Constantinople fell into the hands of the French and Venetians; transferred from thence to Paris in 1798, they have witnessed the successive falls of the Eastern and Western Empires, of the Republic of Venice and the Napoleonic dynasty and Empire. Report says they are to be restored to Venice; and who knows whether they may not be destined one day to return to their original country, Greece, under perhaps Russian auspices?
The Gardens of the Tuileries which lie at the back part of the palace are very spacious, well laid out in walks and lined with trees. Large basins inlaid with stone, fountains and statues add to the grandeur of these gardens; they extend from the Tuileries as far as the Place Louis XV parallel to the Seine, and are separated by a wall and parapet and a beautiful cast iron railing from the Quai, and on the other side from the Rue de Rivoli, one of the new streets, and the best in Paris for pedestrians. On the side opposite the palace itself is the Place Louis XV, called in the time of the republic Place de la Révolution, and where the unfortunate Louis XVI suffered decapitation. The Place Louis XV is by far the most magnificent thing of the kind I have ever seen and far exceeds the handsomest of our squares in London. On one side of it is the Hótel du Garde Meuble, a superb edifice. On the other the Quai, the river; and on the other side of the river is the Palais du Corps législatif, now the place where the Chamber of Deputies hold their sitting, and which has a magnificent façade. In front of this place are the Champs Elysées and avenue of Neuilly and behind the gardens and palace of the Tuileries.