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"^r BENCH PRINCIPLES, 
 
 SEEN THROUGH 
 
 AMERIC AN/SPECT ACLES 
 
 " Liberte, Egalite, Fraternite." 
 
 LnssiNC-BaRFi 
 
 NEW Y O R K 
 
 JIARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 
 
 329 & 331 PEARL STREET, 
 
 FRANKLIN SQUARE. 
 
 18.12. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand 
 eight hundred and fifty-two, by 
 
 Harper & Brothers, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District 
 of New York. 
 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 " Simul et jucunda et idonea dicere vitae." 
 
 I WISH to take off my hat to my reader. A French 
 bow would be more graceful, but it will take more time, 
 and a greater flourish. I prefer to make his acquaint- 
 ance with the plain but sincere Yankee nod. In bidding 
 him good morning, I have only to say, that if he read 
 these pages, he will find some truths frankly told, and 
 some opinions frankly expressed. I have admired Paris, 
 the Magnificent, but I have also inquired its cost. I 
 have asked why Republicanism was a curse in France, 
 and a blessing in America. In short, having some leis- 
 ure hours during the past winter, I employed them in 
 not only examining the outer world of this modern 
 Athens, but in endeavoring to solve its inner life. The 
 result is the following chapters ; abruptly various, and 
 full of contrasts like their topic. I commenced my notes 
 for my own amusement. I publish them without being 
 asked for two reasons ; firstly, to tell the friendly public 
 what I can make known to them in no other way, and 
 secondly, because I have the curiosity, vanity if you 
 please, to try my hand at making a book. Having 
 brought you, gentle reader, to the threshold of my apart- 
 ment, your courtesy will not allow you to do less, for my 
 hospitality, than to take off your hat also, and walk in. 
 
 Paris, June 1. 1852. 
 
SECTION OF A PARISIAN HOTTSE. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS 
 
 AND 
 
 FRENCH PRINCIPLES 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 SUNDRIES. 
 
 The different manner in which the Anglo American and the 
 Gaul build their family nests, is pointedly brought home to the 
 former the night of his arrival at Paris. We live in perpendicular 
 strata ; they in horizontal. Our houses stand side by side, each 
 like a tub on its own bottom. Theirs, so far as they relate to 
 families, are spread one upon the other, like a pile of gingerbread. 
 With the exception of the principal hotels, and a few recently 
 constructed in the English mode, Parisian houses are arranged 
 after the following fashion. In general, they form a hoUoAV 
 square, allowing a court-yard of sufficient size for a carriage to 
 turn. This shape admits of two ranges of apartments, equivalent 
 in accommodations to houses with us ; the one facing the street, 
 the other the court-yard, the kitchen and other conveniences 
 being the two cf nnecting arms. Houses thus constructed accom- 
 modate two families on each floor, and are from five to nine 
 stories high. The ground floor is devoted to shops, stables, and 
 he porter's quarters. It is entered by a huge " porte cochere," 
 
10 
 
 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 which is always guarded by the family of the concierge, who acts 
 as agent for the proprietors in letting their apartments, and 
 watches all the outgoings and incomings of the mansion. Each 
 range has its wide circular staircase for the gentry, leading as 
 high up as what was once considered the only abode of genius ; 
 and another — small, dark, and narroAv, like the worm of a ram- 
 rod — for the use of domestics. 
 
 The porter must be on the ''qui vive'' at all hours of the 
 twenty-four, to slip back the bolt of the outer door, by means of 
 a string connecting with his office, upon the warning ring or cry, 
 " Le cordon, s'il vous plait." Those who enter after midnight, 
 bestow a trifling gratuity upon this Argus, to compensate him for 
 his disturbed slumbers. He replies to all questions relating to 
 his charge, pays postages, receives and distributes all letters and 
 parcels that have owners within his domain, uses your fuel as if 
 it were his own, and is always ready to do the amiable — for a 
 consideration. 
 
 The floor above the entrance is called the " entresol," being, 
 as its name indicates, between sun and earth, and it is generally 
 inaccessible to the former, at any season of the year, except in 
 the widest streets or avenues. Being low, it rents low, compared 
 with the floor above, which forms the apartment Number 1, in 
 height, finish, and decoration, and is, consequently, much the 
 dearest. They then progressively decline in price each story, and 
 also in quality, until they terminate under the roof in a series of 
 little chambers, for the servants of the mansion, two or more of 
 these rooms belonging to each apartment. 
 
 The apartments themselves are of every variety and size, to 
 meet the wants of the diversified positions of the inhabitants of 
 this metropolis. Some are of sufficient grandeur and sumptuous- 
 ness to rival the interior of the more pretending hotels, while 
 others dwindle to the means of the most economical bachelor or 
 money-saving grisette. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FB,ENCH PRINCIPLES. 11 
 
 This mode of building has some prominent advantages over 
 ours. Externally the houses are more uniform, of greater size, 
 and being built of a soft gray sandstone, admit of more architect- 
 ural ornament. They economize also in ground-room and mate- 
 rial, consequently in rent. All the rooms of a family being on 
 one floor, much of that stair-work of which our ladies complain, 
 is saved. In enumerating these advantages, I have enumerated 
 all, unless it may be considered one to be able to bring together 
 the different branches of a family under one roof. 
 
 Their disadvantages are more palpable. Each floor having its 
 separate kitchen and drains, contributes its quota to an assem- 
 blage of odors, based upon the fragrance of shops or stables 
 beneath, which, in spite of locks and bolts, penetrate with an 
 impartial distribution into every room. This nuisance is not 
 always perceptible, but it is a daily liability ; and the plain truth 
 is, that there are few of these gregarious habitations that do not 
 give offense to sensitive nostrils more than once during every 
 twenty-four hours. This fact has doubtless some relation to the 
 enormous consumption of perfumery, which, not unfrequently in 
 the street, overpowers all other smells, as the scented individual 
 goes by. 
 
 Again, no amount of cleanliness in one story can always be 
 proof against a want of neatness in the next. If one family cooks 
 onions, the neighbors above and below are brought into un- 
 mistakable cognizance of the fact. If there be a frolic overhead, 
 the family beneath participate in the noise, without the fun. 
 There lived in the apartment below me a young lady who, for 
 five months, with scarcely the intermission of a day, practiced on 
 the piano, from four o'clock until midnight, and often until two 
 o'clock in the morning. She played and sang delightfully, or 
 otherwise I should have wished myself deaf In a city where 
 revolutions have become as periodical and necessary as measles, 
 chicken-pox, and the hooping-cough to childhood, this species of 
 
V2 P_^JSIAN SIGHTS AND FE>ENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 family roosting has inconveniences sometimes of a graver nature. 
 A few shots fired on the 4th of December last, upon the soldiers, 
 from the upper stories of some houses on the Boulevards, caused 
 a return of ball, grape and musket shot, which lasted an hour, 
 broke in their fronts, riddled them in every part ; the inmates 
 escaping as they could. One individual has it in his power to 
 compromise a hundred lives. 
 
 Although this multiplying of families under one roof may be 
 considered as a species of architectural communism, it is very far 
 from being a social one. 'No one knows his neighbor. There is 
 no door-plate on the several landings, to satisfy curiosity as to 
 who is to be found within. Somehow or other, the occupants 
 never seem to meet on the common stairway. Of the seven 
 
 families beside my own that occupied No. — of Rue de , foi 
 
 six months, I knew nothing except that one was English, and 
 another Russian. I could not have distinguished a single mem- 
 ber of them all from a casual visitor. It is said that tw^o friends 
 lived for a year in the same house without being aware of the 
 fact, until they accidentally met in the street, and inquired each 
 other's address. An amusing mistake occurred to a friend of 
 mine : He started to call upon a lady with whom he was inti- 
 mate; after reaching her house, not having taken sufficient 
 notice of the flights of stairs he had ascended, he entered an 
 apartment in the story above, believing himself to be in that of 
 his acquaintance. He found the plate all out, and a display of 
 refreshments, indicating expected company. As his friend did 
 not then receive, he thought this a little strange, but gave it no 
 further consideration, and, with a liberty which his relations 
 with the family warranted, helped himself to bon-bons and fruit. 
 He soon heard a lady's voice, which he supposed was his friend's, 
 calling from her chamber, the door of which was partly open, 
 apologizing for not coming out immediately ; to which he replied, 
 " Do not disturb yourself Madame, I pray you. I will wait.'' 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FIIE>X'H PRINCIPLES. 13 
 
 He had scarcely uttered these words, when she entered the room, 
 and, to his consternation, he found himself in the presence of an 
 utter stranger. She looked equally amazed, as she had supposed 
 it was a gentleman she was expecting. " Madame," said he, 
 
 " is not this the apartment of Monsieur ?" " No ; that is 
 
 on the floor below." " Then, Madame, I have to throw myself 
 at your feet for this intrusion ; thinking myself in the apartment 
 
 of Madame , I have been eating freely of your refreshments, 
 
 and can now only oiler the humblest of apologies. I am M. 
 
 de ." The name was one well known in Parisian society, 
 
 but he says the lady looked but half convinced, and followed 
 him to the door, keeping one eye on her plate, and the other on 
 him. He afterward met her in the apartment below, and they 
 had a hearty laugh over their mutual surprise. It is unneces- 
 sary to add that by this system, duke and laborer, countess and 
 lorette, saint and vagabond ; the great, good, bad, and indifferent ; 
 w^ealth and poverty are often brought together under the same 
 roof, alike unknowing and unknown. 
 
 The apartments usually taken by strangers, for limited periods, 
 are let furnished with every necessary for housekeeping, except 
 linen and silver, which are hired separately. Inventories are 
 taken on entering and leaving ; the lodger being responsible for 
 all damage, other than ordinary wear and tear. These inven- 
 tories embrace a list of existing damages, including grease and 
 other spots on carpets, table-cloths, cracks or fractures in the 
 glass or porcelain, all minutely detailed, as well as injuries to the 
 furniture, &c. If any are added, they are to be paid for accord- 
 ing to the tariff of the landlord, which is not of the most liberal 
 character. 
 
 French kitchens are more like a ship's caboose in size, than 
 the domains of an American cook. What room there is, is 
 mainly occupied by numerous little grates, raised upon a brick 
 platform, and adapted in size to the various copper, " casserolles," 
 
14 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 or saucepans, so necessary for the preparation of the indispensable 
 " entremets,'' of French cookery. A Yankee cook would be as 
 much at a loss in one of these kitchens, as she would over a 
 locomotive. One half of the ingenuities of our American furnish- 
 ing warehouses, would be equally as inexplicable to a French 
 housekeeper. A good broom is not to be found in Paris. Car- 
 pets have been introduced into the apartments rented to English 
 and Americans, but the French make but comparatively little 
 use of them, preferring the waxed oak floors, which are cooler 
 and cleaner, but require no little care, at first, for a stranger to 
 preserve his equilibrium. The French use much less fuel than 
 we, warming themselves more by extra clothing and foot-muffs, 
 than by lires. 
 
 The search for apartments, which to a novice is a matter of 
 amusement, soon becomes a fatiguing and embarrassing employ- 
 ment. He is ushered without ceremony into any which are 
 taken for a short tirhe, without regard to the convenience of the 
 occupiers; led through disordered bedrooms, unarranged cabinets, 
 and ushered into all the privacy of family matters, lucky for his 
 and their modesty, if among the scattered articles of toilet, he 
 does not pounce upon some fair one in matutinal dishabille. At 
 first, I hesitated upon these domestic thresholds, but the uncere- 
 monious " Enter, Sir," soon convinced me that the right of the 
 landlord to exhibit his apartments, was superior to any considera- 
 tions of delicacy. It was amusing to contrast the coolness and 
 indifTerence with which French tenants underwent this scrutiny, 
 often saying a word in favor of the lodgings or landlord, and 
 always frankly courteous ; whereas, with English or Americans, 
 one was evidently looked upon as an intruder into their temporary 
 castles, from room to room of which the ladies — like quails seek- 
 ing cover — dodged about, to avoid meeting a man more fright- 
 ened than they were themselves. 
 
 Investigations in the unoccupied apartments are of course 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS A^^D FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 15 
 
 pursued under more favorable auspices. But, to believe tbe as- 
 siduous porters, there was not one that had a single fault, or want- 
 ed a single comfort, or even luxury. All of any pretensions had 
 just been vacated by Russian princesses, or English " milords." 
 One proprietor, after a pompous eulogium on the merits of a 
 spacious apartment, whose faded gilt furniture and tawdry 
 splendor, seemed to have descended untouched and almost un- 
 dusted, from the days of Louis XV., said, as a climax, "The 
 
 Princess has just been to look at them, and was perfectly 
 
 charmed; she wished to take them at once." "Pray why did 
 you not secure so noble a tenant ?" " Because she could not 
 deposit the required security for rent," was the reply. Having 
 just seen in the paper the arrest by the police of a Greek prince, 
 for forgery, I came to the conclusion that the title " prince" was 
 no better security for contracts or morals in Europe, than " col- 
 onel," in the United States. 1?y 
 
 After ascending and descending, in the course of a month, per- 
 haps a thousand pair of slippery stairs, and repeating the same 
 questions, until the thorax is pretty much in the condition of 
 that of Maelzel's automaton baby, whose language was restrict- 
 ed to " Mamma" " Papa," according as the right or left arm was 
 lifted, the lodging hunter growing desperate, affixes his signature 
 to a paper, promising to pay from 10 Of to 120 Of per month, in 
 advance. In consideration of this sum, he finds himself, in one 
 case out of two, in the possession of an apartment, in the inven- 
 tory of which no mention had been made of smoky chimneys, 
 and various facilities for the circulation of cold air, or odors M^hich 
 savor not of Araby the Blest, but which have now become his 
 heritage for the period stipulated in the contract. 
 
 In a city like Paris where every domestic want can be sup- 
 plied almost as it were impromptu, house-keeping is divested of 
 the greater number of inconveniences and vexations attendant 
 upon it in the United States. Labor of any character is at instant 
 
16 
 
 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FUENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 command, paid for as soon as completed, and the transaction 
 ended. The sole responsibility of the housekeeper, provided she 
 has made a good selection of domestics, is to give her orders and 
 examine her accounts. Families that intend to make a length- 
 ened stay in Paris, if they would consult comfort and conven- 
 ience, should proceed at once to housekeeping, but, for a short 
 period, the restaurant- 
 life is preferable, as 
 affording an insight 
 into French manners 
 and cookery to be ob- 
 tained in no other 
 way. Besides, one 
 meets with, not un- 
 frequently, spicy and 
 agreeable interludes 
 arising from the mis- 
 takes and embarass- 
 
 (. . AT VERY's. 
 
 ments ot novices. 
 
 Very's, Trois Freres Provenfaux, and Vefour's have a world- 
 wide reputation, or, at all events, one co-extensive with the 
 
 love of good 
 eating, and 
 wherever the 
 words gour- 
 mand and 
 " gourmet" 
 are still un- 
 derstood in 
 their legiti- 
 mate signifi- 
 cation. These 
 
 
 |M 
 
 AT VEFOUR'S. 
 
 are the places 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 to test the renown of French culinary art, and the depths of 
 your purse. But one meets mostly strangers at these places. To 
 see the French eat one should visit the restaurants of lesser mag- 
 nitude and fame, particularly of a Sunday, where the rush to 
 dinner, as no one dines that day under his own roof, is absolutely 
 fearful to a lover of a quiet meal. Infants, dogs, and nurses, all 
 have a seat that day, and the amount consumed would indicate 
 considerable preparatory fasting. Eating and drinking, for the 
 moment, becomes the only business of life. The preparations be- 
 speak the seriousness of the operation. A family enters, consisting 
 of father, mother, maiden sister, two children under five years of 
 age, and a dog. All the tables are filled. They turn to go out. 
 The restaurateur rushes forward, intercepts their retreat, and 
 promises a table " toutsuite." He sees one party have called for 
 their bills, hands them their change, and plumps the new comers 
 into their warm seats, with an array of broken bread, dirty glasses 
 and all the debris of the previous meal before them. Once seated, 
 with bonnets and hats hung up, they are corwidered as secure as 
 fish fairly hooked. The "gar9on," with a dexterity and rapidity 
 peculiarly his own, whisks away the soiled table-cloth and dishes, 
 and in an instant has replaced them with snow-white linen and 
 porcelain. Now commences the "tug of" eating. Each mem- 
 ber of the party, except 
 the dog who gravely 
 occupies his chair, too 
 well bred to manifest 
 impatience, plants a 
 napkin under his or 
 her chin, of the dimen- 
 sions of a moderate 
 sized table-cloth. The 
 females pin the ex- 
 A FAMILY PARTY, tremitics to each shoul- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 der, so that in front they have much 
 the appearance of being in their 
 shrouds. The " carte" is studied, 
 orders given, and content and plea- 
 sure reign. At these family feasts 
 children arc literally crammed, in- 
 dulged vi^ith wines and all the del- 
 icacies called for by adult taste, 
 their parents delighted in proportion 
 to the quantity they consume. Eat- 
 ing, under almost any circumstances 
 is to a looker on a vulgar operation. 
 In one of these restaurants it is cer- 
 tainly an amusing one to a veteran garcon. 
 traveler, whose sensibilities have 
 
 long since had their edges blunted. The waiter has a dozen calls 
 at once — the same dish perhaps ordered dressed in a dozen differ- 
 ent modes — he is to remember each mode and each table — to 
 supply every change of course, omitting nothing required, and at 
 the end of the meal he has to recall every dish, the quantity and 
 
 quality — and there may have been 
 twenty different articles called for 
 at one table — that the " addition" 
 may be made out. What wonder 
 then, if in the confusion of orders, 
 he at times mistakes his napkin for 
 liis handkerchief, and unconsciously 
 wipes the perspiration from his brow, 
 performing with it the next instant 
 the same service for your plate, or 
 rushes in from the " cuisine" with 
 six dishes piled pyramidically in his 
 liunds, a roll of bread under each 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 arm, and the latest called for " addition" between his teeth. I 
 was exceedingly amused at an incident that occurred at a well 
 known cafe, in the Passage Delonnc. The order " Chef, uii 
 bifstake Anglais, toutsuite," was heard, and the article as 
 promptly prepared. The gar- 
 den who brought it in vainly 
 sought an owner. Each table 
 supposed its neighbor had or- 
 dered it, and the "bifstake" 
 went the rounds unclaimed. 
 The waiter had evidently a 
 mysterious beaf-steak, dis- 
 tinctly ordered but universally 
 repudiated. At last it was dis- 
 covered that a wag of a shop 
 boy near by, possessing a touch 
 of ventriloquism, had been 
 amusing himself at the expense 
 of " mine host's" kitchen. 
 
 The French from early habit frequently make themselves 
 very much at home at restaurants and cafes, spending their 
 evenings at the latter, reading the journals, and playing chess 
 or dominoes, paying for the same by calling for a bottle of 
 
 beer or glass of brandy. I have 
 myself seen a woman who had 
 come in by herself, after fin- 
 ishing her repast coolly throw 
 herself back in her chair and 
 proceed to take a comfortable di- 
 gestive nap, apparently wholly 
 oblivious to the existence and 
 manifold trials of the race de- 
 nominated "unprotected females.' 
 
20 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FUENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 At the same time a Frenchman having completed his meal, 
 washed his hands and face in his goblet, used his napkin for a 
 towel, adjusted his hair over the table, rubbed his hands with 
 lemon and bread, and finally picked up a lump of sugar not re- 
 quired for his coffee, wrapped it in a paper and put it into his 
 pocket. We Americans are not open to the charge of over re- 
 finement, but I trust it will be some time yet before we arrive 
 at such free and easy manners. 
 
 An Englishman dropped in, and in stentorian tones, called out 
 in his Anglicised French, " Garden, don beefsteak, avee beaucoup 
 da poommes da terres." " Oui, monsieur," replied the w^aiter, 
 " avec beaucoup de plasir." " No, no," roared the Englishman, 
 " avec beaucoup da poommes da terres." French politeness was 
 proof even against this trial of risibleness ; but I must confess to 
 my own inability to withstand smiling. 
 
 At the risk of incurring the charge of mentioning trifling mat- 
 ters, I relate incidents and difierences of custom which, after all, 
 are those which come home closest to a traveler, for it is upon 
 such trifles that his comfort mainly depends. To the experi- 
 enced, they are doubtless flat and unprofitable ; but previous to 
 that experience, the knowledge of what to expect would have 
 been decidedly convenient. Besides, it is by comparison of 
 national customs that improvement is evolved. Whatever is 
 better done abroad than at home, should be at once engrafted in 
 our own stock. A traveler may, by telling what he sees, find 
 the result in improvements that add vastly to the aggregate of 
 comfort or convenience of his fellow-citizens. Among them are 
 always found some with ears open to friendly hints. 
 
 The omnibuses of Paris are superior to all others that I have 
 seen. Each passenger has a cushioned seat, with arms to him- 
 self, which of course prevents crowding. As soon as the seats 
 are filled, a sort of weather-cock sign, on top of the omnibus, 
 with the word '* camplef,^' is elevated, which can be seen a long 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 21 
 
 distance, and announces that no more can be received. Their 
 omnibuses are Avider than the American ; the central part of the 
 roof elevated so that a passenger can pass to his seat without 
 smashing his hat ; and he has also an iron rod to steady himself 
 and keep him from disarranging his fellow-passenger's knees and 
 toes. They have also a system of " correspondence," by which 
 a passenger, without additional charge, is transferred from one 
 line of omnibuses to another, when necessary to reach his destin- 
 ation. 
 
 There is as much diflerence of opinion in regard to the relative 
 merits of the American and French systems of hotel charges, as 
 between their modes of dining. A Frenchman views with dis- 
 gust the Anglo-American method of mixing meats, vegetables, 
 and sauces upon one plate — mingling flavors that should be 
 kept distinct, and destroying all the delicacy of a repast. He 
 prefers to change his plate as often as he changes his diet ; and 
 be it what it may, he never allows but one article on his plate 
 at a time, devouring in the intervals of the changes quantities of 
 bread. For my own part, I have learned to view his fashion as 
 more rational and healthful than our own. So of the system of 
 paying only for what one has at a public place, instead of our 
 plan of lumping charges by the day or meal. A bath with us is 
 a simple 25 cents affair. The reader will be as much struck as 
 I was, with the following list of baths and charges I copied from 
 a French bathing establishment. It illustrates, to a nicety, their 
 system of division of charges : 
 
 Baths, Single 18 sons. 
 
 " Complete.. ..2/10 " 
 '' Single Bareges 2 " 10 " 
 " Complete '' 3 " 15 " 
 
 Baths, Without smell 3 f. 
 
 " Chemical 3 " 
 
 Aromatic Baths 3 " 
 
 Russian " 3 •' 
 
 and four others. In all, twelve sorts of baths. The items of 
 charges, at the option of the bather, were as follows. I should 
 mention that he is invariably locked in ; there being no latch or 
 
23 
 
 PARISIAN SIGHTS AiND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 handle on the inside, he can only obtain an exit by ringing for 
 the "garcon :" 
 
 Gelantine 2/'. 
 
 Bran 1/. 
 
 ^ do .- 10 sous. 
 
 Starch If. 
 
 Cap 2 soits. 
 
 Towels, hot 2 sous. 
 
 Inside sheet 5 " 
 
 Cake of soap If. 
 
 Boy 4 sous, 
 
 [or what you please. 
 
 What shall I say of servants ? I found as good as I could — 
 after having been cheated for the first week to the tune of about 
 fifty per cent, on all supplies, by a Swiss Protestant cook. Upon 
 being confronted with her accounts, and the original bills, which 
 she had accidentally left in her account book, between which 
 the above cash discrepancy was figuratively obvious, with the 
 naivest innocence, she said they were intended for some other 
 person, though made out in my name, and she would bring the 
 correct bills, agreeing with her entries, from the grocer. It is 
 customary here for the cooks to do the marketing, and procure 
 the general supplies, settling accounts with housekeepers period- 
 ically. This allows considerable scope for pickings, which the 
 uninitiated, in due season, discover to their cost, if they are 
 unable to speak French, and rely solely upon their servants to 
 purvey. The British Ambassador, but a few days since, in 
 arranging his accounts, previous to his departure for London, 
 discovered that his steward had defrauded him of upward of 
 $15,000. To those who go to housekeeping, I would say, ascer- 
 tain first the prices of all staple commodities, and then, when 
 orders are given, the correct cost can be known. In all cases 
 require the original bills. Even if it be your good fortune to fall 
 into the hands of " Boutiques de confiance," you must take it for 
 granted that your domestic has a commission for your custom. 
 
 The trained politeness of French domestics is worthy of all com- 
 mendation. It begets good feeling between them and their em- 
 ployers, and inspires a personal interest in their welfare, because, 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLKS. 
 
 23 
 
 as with coarser natures, there is no fear that kindness will encour- 
 age insolence. A French domestic always uses the third person 
 in speaking of or to any member of the family, even the youngest 
 children. " Will Monsieur give himself the trouble to have his 
 coat brushed ?" " Will Madame have the goodness to give her 
 orders for dinner?" are invariably the style of questions ; and, 
 " I thank you, Madame, very much," the response to directions. 
 
 At New Year's they expect, with all the rest of the world, 
 that have ever been paid for services rendered, the gifts of the 
 season ; but, unlike 
 the rest of the world, 
 they are generous out 
 of their scanty re- 
 sources, in making the 
 little ones about them 
 happy, by tasteful pres- 
 ents of their own 
 make or selection. I 
 was greatly amused 
 on this anniversary, 
 after having given the 
 customary contributions of money and good Avishes, to teacher, 
 domestics, porter, porter's child, letter-man, newspaper carriers, 
 and I do not know how many others, to see the stately Suisse 
 of the Madeleine, march in with a bun on a silver waiter, by 
 the present of which he modestly hinted, that he was not above 
 the love of filthy lucre, at all events, once a year. 
 
 The politeness I have alluded to, is characteristic of all classes 
 whose situations bring them into immediate relations with the 
 higher grades of society. It is no derogation of self-respect, for 
 a seller or an employee to express his thanks in a tone and man- 
 ner, which makes his patron regret it is not in his power to 
 oblige him or her by still further custom. Courtesy calls for 
 
 -^^ 
 
 CALLS AT NEW YEARS. 
 
24 PAmSlAN SIGHTS AiNU FiiEiVCtl PKJNCIPLES. 
 
 courtesy in return. True, one may be cheated, and know it all 
 the while, but the vexation is more than half neutralized by the 
 politeness of the operator. A Parisian shop-keeper plays with a 
 customer as an angler does a trout. He goes upon the principle 
 of risking nothing, by asking a high price, as he has always on 
 the tip of his tongue a load of reasons why, in your individual 
 case, he should depart from his fixed rule, all of which are most 
 skillfully directed point blank against your amour propre. I 
 M^as asked two hundred francs for a picture, which, perhaps, was 
 not greatly overvalued, but, being in the mood of testing the 
 abating qualities of my virtuoso, I put on an air of indifference, 
 and offered him much less. *' It is impossible. Monsieur, to take 
 less, it is a real gem, all the w^rld comes to my shop to see it. 
 I shall really weep when it is gone." He finished, however, by 
 taking one hundred, " because," said he, " I wish the honor of 
 making Monsieur's acquaintance." Shop-keepers, at times, 
 carry this so far as to send their boys into the streets in pursuit 
 of a customer to accept a price emphatically declined over their 
 counters, on the score of principle. Strangers must make up 
 their minds to pay much dearer than natives, and to buy their 
 experience at a larger cost. As a general rule the sum first 
 demanded is very wide from the selling price. 
 
 " How many papers have you sold to-night ?" said I to an old 
 lady, of whom I bought her last " Patrie," one evening. " Fifty, 
 I thank you infinitely, sir," she replied, as she picked up her 
 little bench, and started for home. In directing strangers, all 
 classes vie with each other in attention. I have had a gentle- 
 man run after me out of his own way, some distance, to correct 
 a shght error he feared he had made. On another occasion, a 
 young washerwoman gave me the information sought, and after 
 I had proceeded quite a distance, perceiving that she had made 
 an error, she ran to overtake me, requesting me to wait, while 
 she ascertained exactly where the individual lived, whose resi- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES 25 
 
 dence I sought. She inquired at a neighboring shop, and then 
 eame to inform me, with pleasure and courtesy beaming in every 
 feature, I should not forget to add that she left a basket of 
 clothes in the street to -perform this kindness, which was done 
 with a manner that effectually forbade any pecuniary recompense. 
 This courtesy extends to preserving a polite gravity of counte- 
 nance, under the most trying emergencies of ridiculous appear- 
 ances or mistakes. I once, at a bath, ordered an '^ assiette" 
 (plate), instead of a ''serviette'' (towel), to wipe me with. The 
 waiter, without relaxing a muscle, comprehended my want, and 
 in an instant returned, saying, "Here it is, sir," while I was in 
 a roar myself at the absurdity of my order. I did succeed once, 
 however, in disturbing even the gravity of a veteran garfon, by 
 ordering " un fricandeau a I'oreille," a veal cutlet dressed with 
 cai'S, instead of *' un fricandeau a I'oseille," that is to say, with 
 sorrel. 
 
 I have often thought it very singular that the French, who 
 are so ingenious in inventing methods of killing time, should 
 manifest such a fondness for clocks. That for looking-glasses is 
 easily explained. As for the talebearers of time, there are more 
 I believe, in France, than in all the world beside. Unfortu- 
 nately, there is no connection between them and punctuality, for 
 with clocks every where, punctuality is nowhere. This is vastly 
 annoying to the punctilious stranger, but after innumerable dis- 
 appointments, he reconciles himself to the universal system of 
 promises and postponements. To wait is as natural to a French- 
 man, as to " go ahead" is to a Yankee. 
 
 The latter must be in motion in order to be at rest. He an- 
 ticipates every thing ; the former waits until he is overtaken. 
 An American business community would be horror-struck at an 
 enactment which should require their day to commence at meri- 
 dian. A Frenchman breakfasts at noon, and gets to work not 
 much before the time Boston merchants go on " 'Change.'" He 
 
 B 
 
26 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 dines, while the American sups, and comes home from balls at 
 an hour when his transatlantic friend is becoming restless from 
 over-sleep. 
 
 Franklin undertook to convince the Pj^risians that it was much 
 cheaper to use sun-light than gas-light, but did not succeed. 
 Indeed, were the choice of the two given them, there is but little 
 doubt that gas would receive the universal suffrage. At one 
 o'clock, the Palais E-oj^al, or the Boulevards, displays less activity 
 than Broadway at eight. 
 
 At present, there are many experiments making in the use of 
 the electrical light. Should it be economically produced, the 
 sun might as well spare its rays for some other planetary system, 
 for any use the Parisians would have of them. They would be 
 cast aside as decidedly vulgar. A laughable incident lately oc- 
 curred, arising from an amateur experiment of lighting a fash- 
 ionable salon, in this manner. There were present some two 
 hundred guests, in full toilets. The ordinary lights were put 
 out, and the more brilliant fluid had just begun to dazzle the 
 eyes of the company, when a terrific explosion was heard, fol- 
 lowed immediately by another, and total darkness. Smoke was 
 soon perceived. The curtains were on fire, but were promptly 
 extinguished. There was, however, a universal stampede for 
 the doors, but they opened inward, and the panic-stricken crowd 
 pressed outward. Some one broke the window, and shouted for 
 help. The people in the street called fire, and the 'pominers and 
 sapeurs, with their apparatus, repaired promptly to the spot. 
 Seeing the smoke, they began to pour in a deluge of cold water, 
 and the more the confusion within increased, the greater their 
 exertions to swamp the establishment. It was not until furni- 
 ture and guests had experienced the effects of a thorough Feb- 
 ruary soaking, that they could be brought to comprehend that 
 they had been giving a gratuitous bath to a select circle of the 
 friends of the " Comtesse de ." 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 27 
 
 A "female-rights orator" has asserted, that if women had 
 more of the occupations of men they would be more virtuous. 
 By that rule the women of France ought to far excel in that re- 
 spect their sisters of America. I will say nothing of their labor- 
 ing in the field, their driving huge carts through the streets of 
 Paris, and other rude labors which soon rub out of them all 
 feminine softness, but confine myself to the more agreeable duties 
 M'hich they have here usurped from man. Indeed, a man is 
 but a secondary being in the scale of French civilization. The 
 " dames a comptoir" are as essential to the success of a Parisian 
 cafe as the cook himself. More hats are doffed at their shrines 
 than before the most brilliant belles of the metropolis. My boot- 
 maker, or the head of the establishment, is a woman ; my hat- 
 ter, also ; my landlord is a dignified specimen of " fair, fat, and 
 forty ;" my porter is of the same sex, older in years and worse 
 in looks ; my butcher, milkman, and the old-clothesman, news- 
 boy, and rag-gatherer beneath my window, ditto. They are 
 waiters at the baths, door-keepers at the theatres, ticket-sellers, 
 fiddlers, chair-letters of the churches ; they figure in every revo- 
 lution, and have a tongue and arms in every fight ; in short, 
 they are the bottom and top of every thing in France. They 
 have so pushed aside the lords of the creation, that for some 
 time my sympathies were really alive to know what men had 
 left to do, until I finally discovered that they had the resource 
 of becoming chambermaids. 
 
 But there is one discovery the reformists of the sex can make 
 m Paris, to which I beg particularly to call their attention, and 
 that is, how to preserve the freedom of their "limbs" and their 
 petticoats also. Bloomerism has no chance of success. A 
 French lady, by a sleight of hand in lifting her dress, can cross 
 the dirtiest streets, promenade through mud and mire, and 
 bring home unsullied the whitest stocking and purest skirt. 
 She does it too. with a natural grace and modesty which is per- 
 
28 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 fectly charming. I have heard American ladies covet her art ; 
 and American gentlemen declare that the display of beautifully 
 turned ankles in the finest of hose and fringed vi^ith the choicest 
 of lace and linen, to be seen on the Boulevards during a shower, 
 was not the least attractive of the sights of Paris, 
 
 Observing a crowd one day gathered around a handsome glass- 
 case exposed at the corner of one of the principal streets, my 
 curiosity was excited to discover the contents. Allowing my 
 reader to be the shrewdest of Yankees, his guessing powers 
 would be at fault to tell what I saw. It was nothing less than 
 a series of corns extracted from the feet of Parisian belles and 
 dandies, of all sizes, from a pea to a scale that would have done 
 credit to the horny hide of a rhinoceros, arranged symmetrically, 
 as an incontestable evidence of the skill of the chiropedist. To 
 have completed the attraction, he should have added under each 
 the name of the original proprietor. The largest were veritable 
 monsters, and would have figured to advantage at the London 
 Exhibition alongside of the great diamond, as the most mag- 
 nificent specimens of their genus in existence. 
 
 The shop windows leave to the inquisitive bachelor little to 
 learn of the mysteries of female toilet. That there may be no 
 mistake as to the use of any article, wax figures with a bounti- 
 ful supply of artificial charms are exposed, to show off the fit 
 and make. The dentists, however, bear away the palm in prac- 
 tical illustrations of their art. They have elegant gilt frames 
 set with glass, in which are displayed artificial jaws with bright 
 red gums and milky white teeth, others in every variety of loss, 
 decay, and repair, row within row, like the anatomy of a shark's 
 mouth, all opening and shutting in different degrees of velocity 
 and emphasis, by some concealed mechanism, the whole forming 
 the most complete exhibition of gnashing of teeth to be seen this 
 side of " outer darkness." Above are wax heads which revolve 
 every minute on pivots, showing alternately a ghastly, sunken- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 29 
 
 jawed, toothless face, and the same lineaments freshened and 
 llUed out with a new set of grinders spotless from the maker's 
 hands. The effect of this, under the reflection of a powerful 
 gas-light, is easier imagined than described. 
 
 It is easy to perceive that the French are a practical people 
 at the bottom of all their gallantry. They make their wants or 
 wares known in the most straight-forward manner. Whatever 
 they do — if there be not a bayonet to stop them — they do openly, 
 and heartily despise the mysterious and abashed way in which 
 their neighbors across the channel seek to arrive at the same 
 results. I read in the " Constitutionnel" recently, that " A female 
 orphan, possessing a good fortune, having immediate occasion to 
 marry, desires a husband. Address, &c., &c." All over Paris 
 there are marriage agencies, the objects of which are best illus- 
 trated by one of their advertisements, which reads as follows : 
 " 48 Rue d'Enghien — 26th year — M. de Foy, negotiator of mar- 
 riages, to mothers of families." "Who would believe in an age 
 of progress like this, that the thousands of marriages made in all 
 classes of society by the mediation of M. Foy, during the past 
 twenty-six years, have not yet wholly sufficed, among certain 
 narrow minds, to demonstrate the striking truth, that it is a 
 precious thing to be able to choose a party according to taste, 
 from a rich list, and to use to advantage the knowledge of an 
 experienced man to m.arry well ? To-day this absurd opinion is 
 vanquished, thanks to the judgments of the legal tribunals, 
 which have at length confirmed and sanctioned the morality, 
 principle, and legality of the profession of M. Foy, as being, 
 for him, invested with a special power. After so brilliant a 
 triumph, an immense increase of his business has accrued to his 
 house in France, and its branches in England, Belgium, Ger- 
 many, and America. Interpreters for these four languages are 
 attached to his office. Widows and mothers can then continue 
 to address M. Foy in full assurance ; he offers them within 
 
30 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 twenty-four hours honorable situations of all ranks, even among 
 the richest of those nations. The books are kept in a cipher 
 known only by M. Foy. A mystery always envelopes his name 
 in the negotiations and correspondence. The number of his 
 rooms is a guarantee against all awkward meetings ; and to 
 conclude, the house of M. Foy is a tomb and a confessional for 
 all secrets. Address post-paid." 
 
 At Paris one can order a wife or husband, and have either 
 served up in less time than a new coat. Unfortunately, unlike 
 that, they can not be put off at will whether they fit or not, but 
 must remain until one or the other wears out. "While on this 
 topic I should not forget to add, that if France can not boast of a 
 Niagara or the biggest pumpkin, she has at this moment, in the 
 town of Liege, a mother of " une fecondite extraordinaire." She 
 is only thirty-three years old, has been married but nine years, 
 and has presented her husband with ticcnty-four daughters, 
 three at each birth. I had the honor of knowing in California 
 a mother, still fresh and vigorous, of twenty-six children, but at 
 the above annual rate there is no calculating what her French 
 rival may not yet live to do for the State. 
 
 A robbery was recently committed under circumstances too 
 good not to be told. The thief entered one of the fashionable 
 ready-made linen shops, and asked to see sundry articles for his 
 wife, for whom he said he was preparing a pleasant surprise. 
 " But," said he to the attending damsel, " I wish to be sure of a 
 correct fit. My wife is about your height ; she has, like you, a 
 fine figure — the carriage of a queen. It is necessary to add I 
 have always been the admirer of the group of the Three Graces. 
 Will you be so obliging, since my wife has just your size, or very 
 near it, to try on this chemise over your dress ?" 
 
 The obliging lass complied. The thief, pretending to draw it 
 down, attached it, by means of a large carpet pin, to all her 
 clothes, including her innermost garment. He then ordered a 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 31 
 
 dozen like it at five dollars each. The shop-girl, well satisfied 
 to have found so attentive a husband, attempted to take ofi' the 
 chemise, but finding that as she raised it, her clothes also came 
 up with it, she ran into an adjoining room to divest herself of the 
 troublesome garment without exposing her person. In the mean 
 while, the thief made ofTw-ith all he could lay hands upon. 
 
 The tribunals witness occasionally scenes no less comical. A 
 man named Grosours was brought before the Correctional Police, 
 for having picked a gentleman's pocket of his handkerchief in 
 the Champs Elysees. Although aged only thirty, the prisoner 
 has passed not fewer than twelve years in jail, and on the day 
 of the robbery he had only been released an hour, when he M^as 
 arrested. A policeman having declared that he had seen the 
 prisoner pick the pocket, and had immediately seized him, the 
 prisoner cried passionately, "Ask the ass why he seized me by 
 the collar!" "Don't speak in that way," said the president, 
 " or you will be expelled from the court." " I am wrong — I ask 
 your pardon ; but I am the victim of that fellow. Remark, 1 do 
 not call him an ass from want of respect to justice. Why did he 
 arrest me?" " Because he saw you commit a robbery, and he 
 did his duty." " But he was in such a confounded hurry. On 
 my honor, I should have put the pocket-handkerchief back again, 
 as I only took it to blow my nose, because I had a cold. I am 
 above a paltry pocket-handkerchief." " Why," said the police- 
 man, " did you run away so fast, if you did not intend to keep 
 the pocket-handkerchief?" "Oh, it was to get it washed ; it 
 wouldn't have been polite to have returned it, after using i+, 
 without washing." " That is not very likely," said the officer. 
 " Heaven forgive me, if I do not believe the vile creature of the 
 police suspects my honor I" " Be silent," cried the president, 
 "you insult the witness." "But he attacks my honor." "Si- 
 lence !" " I have, I suppose, the liberty of defending myself 
 That brigand — " " Silence, T tell you !" cried the president. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 " If I am to be silent," said the prisoner, "the defense is not 
 free, and I will retire." Here he attempted to climb over the 
 dock, but was prevented. " Let me go, wiU you ? I tell you 
 that the defense is not free. If I had an advocate he would re- 
 tire, and as I am my own advocate, I may retire too." He 
 again attempted to get away, but being stopped, sat down in a 
 rage, and cried, "This is infamous I" The tribunal condemned 
 him to six months' imprisonment "I protest," cried he with 
 great solemnity, "because the defense was not free." 
 
 These Parisians have their attention drawn, every clear night, 
 if not toward heaven, at least toward the heavenly bodies, by 
 ambulatory astronomers, who plant their telescopes in the most 
 favorable sites for observing the planets, chalking on the side- 
 walks, " Saturn is magnificent to-night — the moon is beautiful, 
 and its mountains and volcanoes exceedingly distinct," &c. The 
 instruments are superior, and the gratification and instruction 
 derived, — for the gazer has the benefit also of a brief astronomi- 
 cal lecture, — well worth the trifling charge of five sous. I have 
 often stopped to get a brief lesson in this science, illustrated by a 
 powerful instrument, such as one in America can only obtain 
 access to with much difiiculty. Another, less instructive, but 
 more diverting sight, is to be found among the dog professors, 
 who, by blows and starvation, often force more learning into the 
 heads of their animals, than a pedagogue succeeds in driving into 
 human noddles. There was one hound which invariably played 
 a game of dominoes through, with any opponent that offered 
 from the curious crowd, without making a single mistake. His 
 greatest difiiculty was in picking up such small objects from the 
 ground. This he could only do by turning his nose sideways. 
 
 The conveniences of life are so multiplied in Paris, that it 
 would be a troublesome task to discover any new occupation 
 iirising from human wants in any shape. The great difiiculty, 
 ^or a man supposed to have money, is to find any thing left for 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 33 
 
 him to do. His wants are anticipated on every side with an 
 alacrity and politeness that are really overpowering. He can 
 not shut a carriage door himself. It is of no use making the 
 attempt. A man appears as suddenly as if he dropped from the 
 clouds, closes the door upon him before he can seat himself, and 
 with hat in hand, begs Monsieur not to forget the trouble he has 
 been at. 
 
 The bachelor on whose head time begins t3 show its steps in 
 the changing color of his hair, has but to step into the "Salon 
 epilatoire," and he will find a private entrance tc a private room, 
 tastefully furnished, where, in the utmost privacy, for two francs, 
 he can have every gray hair extracted 
 by a pair of tweezers in the pretty 
 hands of a charming grisette, who, if 
 she have not the beauty of Sterne's 
 damsel, may possess equal wit. 
 
 An American is made for in-doors, 
 but a Frenchman's home is the out- 
 side half of his house. It is for the 
 street he sacrifices domestic comfort. 
 He eats and drinks in the street ; he 
 reads his newspaper and takes his 
 dram in the street. To appear like 
 ladies or gentlemen in public one day 
 in the week, either sex will economize 
 their personal wants the remaining 
 SIX to a condition bordering almost on 
 penury, to save sufficient money to 
 hire, if they can not purchase, the necessary garments. More 
 can be made of a small capital in Paris than in any other city. 
 There is no occasion to buy any thing. Whatever is heeded of 
 clothing, domestic utensils, or any article whatever, even to a 
 newspaper, can be hired at moderate rates for any period of time. 
 
 ON THE BOULEVARns. 
 
34 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 One of tlie most striking contrasts between the French and 
 Americans is in their physical appearance. Both sexes of the 
 former look healthy and robust. Their countenances are full and 
 florid, and have an expression of sensual ease and contentment, 
 as if they were on good terms with themselves and the world. 
 They have none of the care-worn, haggard American physiogno- 
 my, which gives youth the air of age, and betokens a race in 
 which labor and thought are paramount to all other considera- 
 tions. On the contrary, the French when old, look young. The 
 pleasures of this life oil the joints of age, so that time slips 
 smoothly by. If any class belie their years it is the children, to 
 whom overdress and physical restraint give an expression of 
 premature gravity or unnatural heaviness.- 'No doubt the out- 
 door, and "care not for to-morrow," life of the French, combined 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 35 
 
 with their passion for amusements, has much to do in their fine 
 state of preservation. Something must be put down to their 
 superior toilets. For the English, with perhaps a higher con- 
 dition of health, look beside them, to use a comprehensive term 
 in the female vocabulary, like frights, or in other W'Ords, there is 
 about as much difierence of exterior between the two races as be- 
 tween a buffalo and a blood horse. This applies more particu- 
 larly to the women. I verily believe an English lady to be in- 
 corrigible in matters of taste ; or else it has become a point of 
 honor with her to make herself as unattractive as possible. If 
 both nations would divide equally their respective pride and 
 vanity, the result would be a decided improvement in each. 
 Add to this composition the go-ahead principle of brother 
 Jonathan, and the world would have a specimen of a race that 
 would soon distance all national competition in the essential 
 points of order, beauty, and energy. 
 
 For a man whose passions are his slaves, whose sentiments are 
 obedient to his will, whose emotions are made so many sources 
 of epicurean pleasure, who lives only to extract the greatest 
 amount of happiness from the sensual world, regardless of a 
 spiritual life, Paris affords resources which are not to be found 
 elsewhere. It is emphatically the home of the man of the world. 
 All that the head can covet is at his option ; but if he has the 
 faintest suspicion of possessing a heart in which dwells the love 
 of the true and natural, he had better withdraw it from the 
 vortex of Parisian life, before it is sucked in too deep to escape. 
 
CHAPTER U. 
 
 SITES AND SUICIDES. 
 
 Ln the heart of Paris, in the centre of the Seine, connected to 
 either bank by a series of bridges, which makes it resemble a 
 spider within its web, is a quarter of the city a stranger's foot 
 seldom enters. I mean the " He Saint Louis." I had often 
 gazed from a distance upon its antique-looking mansions, all 
 apparently of one character, height, and color, and wondered 
 what sort of a race they sheltered. My curiosity grew until I 
 determined upon its exploration. The suspension- bridge " De la 
 Cite" took me to the Rue St. Louis en I'lle, which traverses the 
 island lengthwise. The sombre appearance which characterized 
 its exterior became even more apparent in the interior. The 
 houses were high, streets narrow, clean, and quiet ; there was 
 no trace of commerce, and the few shops that were to be seen, 
 seemed to be there because they were too poor to move else- 
 where. There were no carts or carriages ; the few persons- in 
 the streets seemed to know each other ; to be in reality neigh- 
 bors. They appeared cheerful and contented. I looked about 
 to detect if there were apartments to let. Although all appeared 
 so quiet, there was scarcely a sign indicating room for new- 
 comers. Had it been at the same hour in a tropical climate, 
 [ should have explained the universal calm by the afternoon 
 siesta. But there were 7500 inhabitants on a very small spot 
 of land to be accounted for in some way. I am certain I did 
 not see one hundred. The greatest sign of life was the passage 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 37 
 
 of an omnibus through its narrowest part, on its route to the 
 extremity of the external city. The streets were scrupulously 
 clean — every thing was old and faded, but neat. The quaint, 
 polygonal spire of open stone- work attracted me into the church, 
 the only public edifice on the island. Its interior was deserted 
 except by a stray workman. It had some good pictures. The 
 quiet of this core of Paris contrasted so powerfully with its noisy 
 environs, that " it seemed good to be there." I inquired into its 
 history. I could not learn that it had any. A sure proof of un- 
 interrupted calm and contentment. It was the nearest practical 
 approach to " Egalite" I had yet seen in the Republic. Its 
 manners were unexceptionable. As their fathers lived, so live 
 the present generation. No barricades had ever disturbed the 
 slumber of its streets. No revolutionary hordes had made it a 
 stronghold. Its most treasured souvenirs were, that in the Hotel 
 Lambert, Voltaire planned his Henriade, and Napoleon, in 1815, 
 held his last conference with M. de Montalivet, before he fled 
 from Paris, to return to it no more. But its brightest boast, and 
 one which makes it the white spot of this modern Lutece, is, that 
 it does not contain a single prostitute. 
 
 Leaving the " He" by another bridge, in five minutes I was 
 again afloat in the mighty current of Parisian life. In the sol- 
 itude and silence I had left, it seemed that when I had gone I 
 should be missed. It was refreshing to believe that one's pres- 
 ence was necessary, if but to enliven a desert ; but here, an atom 
 among a million other atoms, tossed from side to side in eflbrts 
 to avoid contact with thousands of faces, hands and feet that one 
 has never seen before, and will never meet again, the conviction 
 of individual nothingness grew strong and sad within me. I 
 felt there was no solitude like that of a stranger in a strange 
 multitude, speaking a strange tongue. Were I to plunge into 
 the rapid waters of the Seine, the crowd would gape a minute, 
 exclaim " Voila un drole 1" and pass by. 
 
38 
 
 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES 
 
 Every step in Paris is a lesson in history. There is scarcely 
 a street but has had its baptism of blood, its barricade, its 
 combats, its slain, and more lamentable still, its martyrs to 
 popular rage, or victims of royal revenge. Who can paint a 
 picture that shall embrace Parisian character in all its shades ? 
 To-day, light, buoyant, brilliant, sympathetic, courteous, enthu- 
 siastic in art, overflowing v^^ith humor, displaying all that makes 
 life attractive and graceful : to-morrow, ragged, disheveled, reek- 
 
 PARISIANS AEOUSED 
 
 ing with the sweat of a hundred barricades, and screaming that 
 dreadful war-cry of crime, " Ca ira I" whose notes carry terror to 
 every throne of Europe, and set millions of armed men in motion 
 from one extremity to the other. Singular race I Equally ready 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 39 
 
 to laugh or fight. Terror-stricken at the idea of death, banish- 
 ing from memory, as far as xjossible, its dread reahty, yet plung- 
 ing into crime and slaughter with the levity of buflbons, and the 
 cruelty of Molochs. As I threaded my way through the joyous- 
 hearted crowd, whose faintest jostle called forth a " Pardon, 
 monsieur," with all the interest of tone a mother addresses a 
 child upon a supposed hurt, and from whom the slightest acci- 
 dent or loss drew forth genuine expressions of kindness and com- 
 miseration, it was difficult to realize that their fathers, almost on 
 the spot where I stood, had burned by a slow fire, made slower 
 by damp straw, a girl of tM^enty, stripping her naked, cutting ofT 
 her breasts, and slashing her fair skin with their sabres heated 
 red hot, while her agonizing screams, borne on the still air of a 
 summer evening, were heard as far as the Louvre. Her crime 
 was wounding a republican soldier. An Iroquois never tortured 
 a woman at the stake. This was reserved for chivalric France 
 After this deed, it is no matter of astonishment that the heart of 
 an aristocrat became a savory morsel, and the blood of a coun- 
 tryman sweeter than nectar. The cannibalism of Paris put to 
 the blush that of New Zealand. Pity and indignation never 
 grow old at the recollection of the fate of the Princess Lam- 
 balle ; yet her lot was mercy to that of many of her sex, every 
 way as deserving. In those days of terror so great was the stu- 
 pefaction, that it was necessary only to say to a victim, "Go to 
 your house, remain there, and to-morrow morning the cart will 
 call to take you to the scaffold," and he went. 
 
 The grated archway of the Conciergerie still wears the same 
 look of gloom as it did during the massacres of September, 1792, 
 m an era when even the tribunal of which a Fouquier-Tinville 
 was judge, could not do its work of slaughter with sufficient 
 rapidity to satisfy the desire of the people for blood. Within is 
 still to be seen, deep stained in the very stone, the "damned 
 spot" made by the blood-dripping sabres of the ruffian butchers 
 
40 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 who, wearied with their work, had rested their weapons against 
 the wall, while they recruited their energies by copious libations 
 of wine. Those days were not the first in which the Concier- 
 gerie had seen the people slay the nobles within its walls. In 
 1418 its vaults for two days resounded to the agony of priests, 
 ladies and lords murdered by an infuriated populace, who thought 
 to avenge in these cruelties the disasters of Crecy, Poitiers, and 
 Agincourt. On the 23d of August, 1572, its bells, answering the 
 ominous signal of St. Germain I'Auxerrois, awoke another gen- 
 eration of murderers to their work of blood. It was the night of 
 St. Barthelemi, and what a night even for Paris I Fanaticism 
 sharpened the weapons of hate. Says an eye-witness : " The 
 continual noise of fire-arms, the piercing cries of the victims, the 
 shouts of the assassins, the headless trunks thrown from the win- 
 dows or dragged to the river, the sack of more than six hundred 
 houses, made Paris resemble a city taken by assault." The pan- 
 acea for every ill, has always been blood. Has it ever cured its 
 patient ? Let Charles VII. answer for the slaughter of the Ar- 
 manacs ; the edict of Nantes, for St. Barthelemi ; and a Bourbon 
 monarch for the blood of September. Monarch, priest, or citizen, 
 imperialist, monarchist, republican or socialist, each in turn adopt 
 the sword and perish by the sword. " Paris," exclaimed Henry 
 ni., chief of the kingdom, but a chief too great and too capri- 
 cious, " thou hast need to be bled to cure thee ; also all France, 
 for the frenzy that thou communicatest to it. In but three days, 
 and your walls and your mansions will be seen no more, but only 
 the place where thou hast been." A Dominican, James Clement, 
 bore the reply on the part of her citizens to their angry king on 
 the end of his poniard. His death was received with more ex- 
 ultation than even that of Louis XVI. Fireworks, savage dances, 
 gross caricatures, blood-thirsty songs, and a solemn thanksgiving 
 to Almighty God in the proudest of the temples of the Prince of 
 Peace, announced their joy that another murder was done, while 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 41 
 
 the whole city rushed to bless the miserable peasant mother of 
 the assassin. 
 
 The rancor of political strife afTords some extenuation for re- 
 joicing in the fall of an enemy, even by the agency of crime 
 But what can we think of that spirit which finds pleasure in the 
 agonies of a fellow-creature ? The populace, so sympathetic with 
 the artificial distress which they pay to see in their theatres, 
 weeping at sufferings which have no reality beyond the counter- 
 feit emotions of mercenary actors, crowd with still greater eager- 
 ness a place of execution. When Damien was tortured in the 
 Place de la Greve, for stabbing Louis XV., the square, the win 
 dows, the roofs, and every spot whence human eyes could reach 
 the assassin, was occupied, even by ladies. For five hours they 
 glutted their cold curiosity in his agonies. Unmoved, they saw 
 his flesh torn off' his limbs with red-hot pincers — molten lead 
 poured into his wounds — those wounds scooped out with knives 
 — disturbing no mortal part, but probing to the quick, the vital. 
 As a coup de grace, four horses were fastened to his limbs to tear 
 him asunder. They were wearied out in vain efforts — two fresh 
 ones were added, and these failed, until the joints of the misera 
 ble wretch were severed by strokes of a hatchet. The only ex 
 clamations were of pity for the poor horses, flogged to unwonted 
 exertions to perform their part of the tragedy. 
 
 The " Conciergerie" can not be the most refreshing sight for 
 the inhabitant of the Tuileries, though it may serve, like the 
 skeleton of the Egyptian banquets, as a moral on the pride and 
 instability of rank. Its walls have imprisoned alike illustrious 
 victims and the greatest of criminals. The confinement and tor- 
 ture of Ravaillac failed to screen Louis XV. from the knife of 
 Damien ; and he, in his turn, was no warning to Louvel, who 
 aimed to destroy the Bourbon line in one blow. Fieschi, failing 
 in his attempt upon the Orleans king, here spent the few days 
 that intervened between him and the guillotine. Impartial in 
 
42 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 its destiny, it receives alike royalty and its assassins. The mem- 
 ory of Marie Antoinette is indelibly affixed to its walls. Within 
 them the Girondins held their last banquet. Louis Napoleon 
 himself has left them too recently to have forgotten that the dis- 
 tance between their towers and the Palace of the Tuileries, has 
 not lengthened since he usurped the throne of Charlemagne. 
 
 Simply to enumerate the sites of historical interest, would fill 
 a volume. Yet who can pass unmoved the spot where the great 
 Henry fell a victim to the fanaticism of his adopted faith, after 
 escaping twenty-three previous attempts ? The Parisians never 
 forgave the heretic king the siege they had endured. It cost 
 them, from famine alone, thirty thousand men. Though they 
 were reduced to browse upon the grass in the streets, and to 
 make bread of the bones of the dead, they yet found strength 
 enough to fire from their Myalls upon the Protestants, and to re- 
 pair to their churches to listen to the exhortations of their monks. 
 Their priests sustained their constancy, under sufferings not ex- 
 ceeded at the destruction of Jerusalem, by promises of paradise, 
 and by themselves guarding the entrenchments, making sorties, 
 and sharing the duties and hardships of the meanest soldier. In 
 their hatred of heresy they stripped their churches of lead to cast 
 into bullets, and were the foremost in every combat, and the last 
 in every retreat. 
 
 In the Paris of to-day, one in vain seeks to recall the city of 
 which Henry IV. became master. There were but few houses 
 left entire ; the greater number were uninhabited ; grass had 
 overgrown the streets ; there were no lights ; brigands pillaged 
 openly ; one heard every where of thefts, ambushes and mur- 
 ders. Strange, indeed, says Lestoile, to say that in a town like 
 Paris, robberies were committed with as much impunity as in a 
 forest. No one dared go out after sunset. All places of amuse- 
 ment were closed at four o'clock. Added to these evils, the 
 civil wars had begotten such a spirit of combat, that the streets 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 43 
 
 were daily stained with the blood of those who fell in duels. In 
 less than fifteen years forty thousand perished in this scandalous 
 manner, and seven thousand pardons were granted. 
 
 I never pass the narrow " Rue du Rempart," without recall- 
 ing to mind the heroic Joan of Arc, who here was wounded by 
 the English, while sounding the depth of the ditch with her 
 Kince. FortuUvi-tely for posterity, and appropriately for herself, 
 this Maid of Orleans has found in a daughter of Orleans, the 
 Princess Marie, best beloved of Louis Philippe, a genius equal to 
 the perpetuation in marble of her chaste and heroic image. This 
 admirable statue is now at Versailles. It is some consolation to 
 the descendant of an Englishman, to know that the ignominy of 
 the death of this noble girl was shared by a Frenchman, Jean 
 Cauchen, a doctor of the Sorbonne, by whose judgment she was 
 sent to the stake. 
 
 Another female, " spirituelle," talented and beautiful, whose 
 life was consecrated to the amusement of the French, and whose 
 melancholy fate is never to be forgotten by those who have 
 once seen it depicted by the present queen of tragedy, lies buried 
 in an unrecorded grave, under the pavement on the banks of 
 the Seine, in front of the Palais Bourbon. The curate of St. 
 Sulpice refused to receive in consecrated ground the corpse of 
 Adrienne le Couvreur, an actress, although she had, in her will, 
 left a legacy to the poor of his parish. 
 
 Many of the public edifices have experienced no less strange 
 mutations of fortune than their occupants. St. Lazare, a hos- 
 pital for lepers, was also the temporary abode of the ancient 
 kings, previous to their solemn entry into their capital, to teach 
 them a lesson of humility and humanity, by a temporary sojourn 
 among the most infirm and disgusting of their subjects. The 
 corpses of the king and queen were also deposited here, previous 
 to interment at St. Denis, to be sprinkled with holy water by 
 these human outcasts. This hospital, of which St. Vincent de 
 
44 
 
 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES 
 
 Paule was abbot, and from which Andre Chenier passed to the 
 scaffold, is now a prison for prostitutes. 
 
 The Convent of St. Augustin, for centuries the place of as- 
 sembly for synods, councils, parliaments, and the Order of the 
 Holy Ghost, has become a poultry market. The cells of Ave 
 Maria, once filled with pious nuns, are now the lodgings of sol- 
 diers ; the convent of the Jacobins, a prison ; that of the Cor- 
 deliers, dissecting rooms ; the Capuchins of St. Jacques, a 
 venereal hospital ; the convent of the Sisters of Visitation, a 
 Protestant church ; the Jacobins of St. Germain, the museum 
 of artillery ; others are corn magazines, prisons, stamp-offices, 
 city halls, markets ; and the abode of the Holy Daughters of St. 
 Thomas has been replaced by the Temple of Mammon, the 
 present " Bourse." 
 
 THE BOURSE. 
 
 The revolution of 1789 has left so deep an impression upon 
 ihe minds of the present generation, that, in the vivid recollec- 
 tion of its horrors, we lose sight of the fact that the Parisian 
 populace were but obeying the instincts of a nature transmitted 
 
PAlilSIAN SIGHTS AND FE.ENCH PRINCIPLES. 45 
 
 as a legacy from one generation to another ; nursed in their 
 mothers' milk, and made venerable by the traditions of their 
 sires. If the noblesse rejoiced in the chivalric and proud Mont- 
 morencis, Condes, and the Rohans whose motto was, " E-oi je 
 ne suis ; Prince ne daigne ; Rohan je suis ;" the people of Paris 
 were no less proud of their redoubtable butcher chiefs, the Le- 
 goix. Saint Yons, and Thiberts, who, for centuries had been the 
 head and front of every insurrection, whose descendants kept up 
 the turbulent glory of their race, in the troubles of the League 
 and the Fronde, and whose names are yet to be found among 
 the butchers of the dreaded Faubourgs. The populace have a 
 hereditary taste for tumult. They have a thousand wrongs to 
 avenge ; a thousand examples to move them. Fickle in theii 
 attachments, they are true to their natures. In 1227, to a man, 
 they seized their arms, rescued Louis IX. from the hands of his 
 unruly barons, and triumphantly brought him within their walls. 
 Their children, six centuries later, ignominiously expelled from 
 amidst them the last descendants of their saintly monarch. St. 
 Louis grateful for their devotion, took the title of " Bourgeois," 
 and called the citizens to his councils. For the fifty thousand 
 souls that composed its population, he established a police of 
 sixty men ; stronger in the love of the people, than the govern- 
 ments of the present day, in the steel of sixty thousand bayonets 
 During the reign of Philip IV., the populace undertook, after 
 their usual fashion, to reform the government, by gibbeting the 
 ministers, Labrosse and Marigny, voting the salique law, and 
 driving the king from his palace to the Temple, in which he 
 found a refuge. It was then without the walls of the city. A 
 little later, the king returned the compHment, by hanging twen- 
 ty-eight of the citizens to the four principal gates. Five hun- 
 dred years afterward, another Capet, driven by popular fury from 
 his royal abode, was conducted a prisoner to the Temple, from 
 which he only issued, to be led to the scaffold, by the descend- 
 
46 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 ants of the very bourgeoisie his ancestor had hung upon a gal- 
 lows. The successor of Charlemagne was compelled, under the 
 mockery of Royalty, to humiliate himself before the peopl , from 
 the windoM^s of the Hotel de Yille, with the red and blue cap of 
 hberty on his head, which, with its silver clasp and device, " a 
 bonne fin" (to a good end), had been awaked from its sleep of 
 four centuries, to complete the humiliation of this unhappy king. 
 Little did the republicans of 1364, when they added this motto 
 to their colors of liberty, contemplate to what "end" they were 
 preparing their emblem of authority. Under Etienne Marcel 
 and his friends, they imposed laws upon the Dauphin Charles, 
 regent during the captivity of John in England. Royalty was 
 compelled to abase itself, and sue for favors to the assembled 
 multitude. The regent, and Charles le Mauvais, by turns, ha- 
 rangued the people in the Place de Greve, the place of execu- 
 tions. The populace made themselves merry at these jousts of 
 eloquence, hooting or applauding the princes, as they would 
 comedians whom they paid to amuse them. The Dauphin, 
 having seen his favorites slain before his eyes, in his own cham- 
 ber, by the partisans of the " Liberte, egalite and fraternite," of 
 that day, was reduced to beg his life on his knees, of Marcel, 
 who replied by giving him his liberty-cap, as a protection, draw- 
 ing him to the window, and showing him the corpses which 
 had been pitched into the court-yard. " On the part of the 
 people," replied Marcel, " I require you to ratify the death of 
 these traitors, for it is the will of the people that has done this." 
 The prince fled, assembled an army, and besieged Paris. 
 Marcel was assassinated, and the royalists once more masters, 
 true to their instincts, sought to wash out the humiliation they 
 had endured in the blood of the popular leaders. This game of 
 power has always been " If I win, heads you lose." But, like 
 all depletions, the practice begets the necessity ; a truth in 
 political therapeutics, not fully acknowledged, even after so 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 47 
 
 lH£ bastille 
 
 many centuries of accumulated proofs. On the spot where the 
 Danton of the 14th century had met his death, the Dauphin 
 built a triumphal edifice, as a monument of defiance to unruly 
 demagogues, and a prison of state to reform or bury the poli- 
 ties of obnoxious spirits. 
 This fortified dungeon 
 continued faithful to the 
 interests of its builders, 
 until the day when the 
 popular colors of Paris 
 became again victorious 
 over the royal lilies of 
 France. While royalty 
 battled aristocracy, the 
 Faubourg St. Antoiue 
 
 remained quiet ; indifferent whether the cannon of the Bas- 
 tile won or lost a husband for Mademoiselle de. Montpensier. 
 She, with the inexplicable caprice of her sex, intrigued for the 
 hand of Louis XIV., yet fired upon his army, causing Mazarin to 
 exclaim, "Mademoiselle has killed her husband." But after a 
 repose of one hundred and thirty years, its terrible population 
 awoke, and on the 14th of July, 1789, avenged the abasement 
 of their flag, and the wrongs of humanity, by the destruction of 
 that symbol of despotism. 
 
 European democracy has learned its trade of barric^ades from 
 the Bourgeoisie of Paris, who after six hundred years' practice, 
 have well-nigh brought the system to perfection. Whenever the 
 genius of revolutions prompted them to reform the State, Paris 
 found itself transformed in a day into a vast fortress. The en- 
 trance of each street w'as closed by massive iron chains, and, on 
 the appearance of an enemy, these chains were reinforced by 
 stones, barrels, beams, and every obstacle to render them im- 
 pregnable to the heavy-armed Barons. Alternately victorious 
 
48 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 and defeated, the democracy and despotism of the 14th century 
 were synonymous with carnage and destruction. In 1382, Paris 
 was full of pride and wealth, with an overflowing, turbulent, 
 swarming population. It had then, according to Froissard, 
 thirty thousand rich and powerful men, armed from head to 
 foot, as well appareled as any Chevaliers, and able to fight for 
 themselves, without the aid of the great lords. " In 1436, 
 Paris," writes Lavallee, its historian, " was ravaged by famine 
 and the plague, ruined by war, deserted by its principal inhabit- 
 ants ; its population reduced one half; wolves infested the streets ; 
 it had so many empty houses, that they were destroyed for fire- 
 wood ; and it was proposed to remove the capital to a town on 
 the Loire. In 1466, with a view of re-peopling it, criminals of 
 all countries were invited to take up their residence within its 
 walls." — With such precedents in its history, and such a germ 
 in its population, is it astonishing that Paris should in its period- 
 ical frenzies, exhibit every form of crime, madness and folly, of 
 which human nature is capable ? 
 
 Such were my refl.ections as I passed from one to another of 
 the sites of historical events in which Paris is so prolific. The 
 actors have passed away, but the human nature which gave 
 birth to them remains the same. What does the future hold in 
 store for this city ? Emerging from every trial greater, richer, 
 and more powerful, the centre of arts and sciences, if she ever 
 learn wisdom from the lessons of the past, to what may she not 
 aspire ? But there is too much living interest in this turbulent, 
 sparkling, ever-changing stream of humanity, for thought to re- 
 main long fixed on what lies beneath its waters. I opened my 
 eyes to the world around me and walked on. 
 
 Although it was mid February, old women were knitting in 
 the open air on the bridges, patiently awaiting customers for their 
 humble wares. A noisy group was gathered around a large 
 electrical machine, on the ecstasy of being pained by which, a 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 49 
 
 professor in blouse was so eloquent, that he at last succeeded in 
 obtaining a circle of greenhorns, who were willing to test the 
 merits of the harmless looking array of bottles, wheels, and wire 
 before them, even at the sacrifice of a few sous each. The pro- 
 fessor touched them up pretty smartly. The shower that follow- 
 ed of " Mon Dieus," and other exclamations of irritation and 
 wonder, in which the French is behind no other tongue, seemed 
 to be peculiarly gratifying to the more cautious, w^ho had kept 
 their hands off the magical ware, while for a moment the carni- 
 val dancers themselves might have derived some useful hints 
 from the variety and activity of the hops and gesticulations dis- 
 played. However, let a Frenchman make as much noise as he 
 pleases, and he soon grows quiet ; so it was here, and curiosity 
 to know how it really did feel, soon drew together a fresh set of 
 victims. I had some desire to know how much of an income 
 the owner derived from so striking an appeal to the sensibilities 
 of the public, but the crowd was too great for me to get near 
 enough to question him. 
 
 On the duai du Marche Neuf, I came to one of the sights of 
 Paris, which, like all others, by the policy of the government, is 
 free ; but which it would be much more to its credit and to the 
 benefit of public morals, if it charged a large fee for entrance to 
 the merely curious. It was the Morgue, a name which, like 
 that of Judas, stands by itself, the 
 sole representative of its genus, spe- 
 cies, and kind throughout the world. 
 It is a plain Doric, cold, forbidding- 
 looking building, perfectly in keep- 
 ing Avith its uses. I entered, and 
 saw three corpses, behind a glass 
 partition, naked, with the exception ^^^ mokc^le. 
 
 of waist cloths, and laid out upon inclined slabs, something like 
 butcher's blocks. Tiny streams of water were directed over 
 
 C 
 
50 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 tliem to keep them fresh. Their clothes were hung above their 
 heads. Two were middle-aged men, the other a yoimg woman, 
 Avho apparently had come to her death by drowning. 
 
 The bodies of unknown persons are deposited here for three 
 days, then, if not recognized and claimed, they are buried at the 
 public expense. In a city like this, such an institution is one of 
 undoubted utility ; but to make a public spectacle of the naked 
 bodies of our fellow-beings, whom crime, misfortune, accident, or 
 neglect may have brought to an untimely end, is unquestionably 
 demoralizing in its tendency. Young and old, maiden and 
 mother, the stranger as well as the citizen, one and all of the 
 unknown dead must be brought here, stripped even of the rai- 
 ment which in most instances would be the best test of recogni- 
 tion, and exhibited to the morbid curiosity of those who, when 
 they were living, passed them heedlessly by. Men, women, and 
 children, even nurses with infants, came, gazed a few seconds on 
 the revolting spectacle, and then left their places to those behind, 
 impatif^ntly awaiting their turn. In making this exhibition s^o 
 ur ..ecessarily public, I wondered why the government had not, 
 with the system which it displays in every other place, provided 
 a register for names, and a railing with a guard, to prevent 
 crowding, and make the access and egress more facile. Seriously, 
 this is a strange show in the heart of civilization. If it be not 
 classed among the " necessary superfluities," and consequently 
 an institution sacred even from the reforming hand of govern- 
 ment, it imperatively calls for a change, by which the modesty, 
 even of the dead, be not outraged, and the sensibilities of the 
 living needlessly blunted. 
 
 During 1851, there were exposed three hundred and seventy- 
 one bodies or parts of corpses ; of these two hundred and fifty- 
 iour were of the male sex, thirty-eight of the female, twenty- six 
 new-born babies, forty-six still-born, and seven fragments of 
 limbs. Among the causes of death, there were one hundred 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 51 
 
 !_, 
 
 and thirty-nine known suicides, twenty-five supposed, five homi- 
 cides, seventy-one accidents, and forty-eight natural deaths. 
 
 It is stated that the deaths occasioned by carriages had di- 
 minished the past year. If so, this can only be attributed to a 
 merciful Providence, for I never was in any city where there is 
 more careless driving and apparent indifference to the safety of the 
 foot passengers. The coachmen make a point to aim at pedes- 
 trians, either to see how near they can come to them without 
 hitting them, or to enjoy a malicious satisfaction in seeing thein 
 jump in affright at the warning cry of " gare 1" as the horses 
 are about to tread upon their heels. 
 
 It will be remarked that suicides furnish by far the larger 
 proportion of contributions to the Morgue. The papers teem 
 with notices of, or attempts at, self-destruction. They appear to 
 be more frequent than among any other nation, and for causes 
 often of the most trivial and eccentric character. As illustrating 
 the truth of the latter portion of my remark, I quote a number 
 of cases taken from the newspapers during the winter, and which 
 are well worth the attentive consideration of the student of 
 human nature ; or, more specifically speaking, of those who 
 perplex their brains in endeavoring to disentangle the Gordian 
 knot of Gallic character. It may be questioned whether the 
 horrors of the revolution of '89, have not bequeathed even to the 
 mothers of the present generation this unnatural legacy of blood. 
 Succeeding events have not had a tendency to re-establish the 
 peaceful and healthy flow of the vital current. 
 
 " Ernest B., of nineteen years of age, being jocularly told by a 
 physician he had not long to live, took the words seriously, and 
 fell into a profound melancholy. In his conversation he made 
 constant allusions to his approaching end. Yesterday he was 
 found hung in the garret of his father's house." 
 
 For children of but twelve years of age to seek self-destruction, 
 with the coolness and determination of adults, and for causes as 
 
52 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 trifling as the pleasures that then amuse, no other country but 
 France can give evidence of, and none others but French moth- 
 ers can give birth to such offspring. I quote from an evening 
 journal. 
 
 " Yesterday, a girl, scarcely twelve years old, climbed upon 
 the parapet of the Gluai d'Augustins, and, after making the sign 
 of the cross, threw herself into the Seine. Several boatmen, 
 warned by the cries of those who had seen her jump, detached 
 a boat, and made every effort to save her. But by the time 
 they succeeded in reaching her, she was dead. 
 
 " Taken to the Morgue, she was recognized this morning by 
 her parents, living in the quarter of the Palais Royal. It ap- 
 pears that this young girl had felt for one of her cousins a violent 
 passion. He having left for a foreign country, she had conceived 
 a chagrin which prompted her to this fatal act. 
 
 " Almost at the same moment, there arrived at the Morgue, 
 the corpse of another young girl, of the same age, who had com- 
 mitted suicide, from a motive more easy to comprehend. 
 
 " Toward the end of November last, Hortense R., belonging 
 to a family in easy circumstances, in the Faubourg St. Antoine, 
 left her school, to pass a day with her parents. She carried 
 home an unsatisfactory note. Her mother gravely remonstrated 
 with her, and reproached her, because, although twelve years 
 old, she had not made her first communion. Hortense appeared 
 much affected by these admonitions. At dinner-time, she could 
 not be found. Her absence being prolonged late into the even- 
 ing, her parents were much alarmed, and made every effort to 
 obtain some tidings of her. 
 
 ** Since that time, Hortense had not appeared, and no one 
 knew her fate. Yesterday, the body of a young girl was taken 
 from the Canal St. Martin, where it appeared to have been 
 for a long time. It was discovered to be the corpse of Hor- 
 tense." 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PHINCIPLES. 53 
 
 The same paper records the suicide of a girl of eighteen, who 
 had been fined twenty cents for some trifling fault. 
 
 The "Droit," of February 7, has as follows : " A triple attempt 
 at suicide, accompanied with circumstances of the deepest immor- 
 ality, has been for several days the only subject of conversation 
 in the town of Batignolles, so seldom disturbed in its peaceful 
 habits, by dramas of this nature. Clementine N., twenty-three 
 years old, had, for a long time, held intimate relations with a 
 young man of nineteen, Mr, P., clerk in a fashionable store, 
 where she was herself a sales-woman. 
 
 " By a precocious depravity, which we leave to moralists to 
 analyze, Clementine, without renouncing possession of her lover, 
 made him contract a second liaison with a young girl of fifteen, 
 named Eliza, also employed in the same shop, and who did not 
 yield, except at the end of long and reiterated temptations by her 
 companion. 
 
 " Sometime after this, she wished to give to P. a third mistress, 
 and attempted to seduce another young girl, of the same shop ; 
 but this one repelled the infamous suggestions of Clementine, and 
 informed her family of the attempt. 
 
 *' On account of this revelation, the father of Eliza, in his turn, 
 was informed of all these disorders. Indignant at the recital of 
 this shameful prostitution, he threatened to complain to the pros- 
 ecuting attorney of the Republic, and enjoined upon his daughter, 
 under pain of being sent to a house of correction, to cease all re- 
 lations with P. and Clementine. When informed by Eliza, that 
 their debaucheries were no longer a secret, and fearing the effects 
 of the anger of the father, they resolved, by common accord, to 
 defeat it by committing suicide. They re-united in the room of 
 P., and having made their adieus to the world, in a joint letter, 
 set fire to the charcoal they had prepared, which soon began to 
 produce the first effects of strangulation. 
 
 " Eliza, of a more delicate constitution than the other two, 
 
54 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 felt first the mortal symptoms. She then began to be afraid to 
 die, and, recalling her sinking energies, threw herself violently 
 against the window, which she succeeded in opening, notwith- 
 standing the resistance of her companions, and declared she 
 wished to return home. 
 
 " Clementine and P., after having made new and useless 
 efforts to induce her to die with them, yielded at last to her 
 tears. They opened the door, and, as it was very late, and Eliza 
 was taken with vomiting of blood, and scarcely able to walk, 
 they led her to her house. Then returning, they relighted their 
 fire, adding a postscript to their farewell letter, stating that Eliza 
 had changed her resolution, and waited for death. Soon their 
 groans attracted the attention of the neighbors, who, having 
 knocked without an answer at the door, proceeded to break it. 
 At the sight of the smoking charcoal, and the two young persons 
 extended on the bed, giving no sign of life, they hastened to 
 purify the atmosphere of the chamber, and to send for a doctor. 
 Owing to the care bestowed, the two miserable beings were re- 
 called to life. A few minutes later, and they would have been 
 dead. Clementine had no sooner recovered her speech, than she 
 overwhelmed with the grossest and most vulgar invectives, the 
 neighbors who had interfered with her '' partie'' sport of suicide. 
 She also declared that it was only adjourned, and that the next 
 time she would take care to prevent any such impertinent inter- 
 ference. 
 
 The following case exhibits so powerfully the rationale of a 
 suicide, that it deserves recording. The corpse was found sus- 
 pended to a tree, near Paris, with the following note in the 
 pocket : 
 
 " Those who discover my corpse shaking in the wind, will, 
 without doubt, feel pity or terror, and say, ' another unhappy 
 victim of misery or disappointment.' They will deceive them- 
 selves. T have always been perfectly happy. I feel that with 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AxND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. r,5 
 
 age infirmities will arrive, and it is to evade the smallest grief, 
 the minutest trouble, that I have decided to terminate my life. 
 This may appear absurd ; but I find that when one has lived for 
 more than sixty years, one should have had enough of life. I 
 am alone in the world. I do not live in Paris. I believe it will 
 be impossible to discover who I am. Besides, I have taken pre- 
 cautions for that ; and, if there is any respect for the last wish 
 of a dying man, I beg they will make no research on this sub- 
 ject. I have left my resid-nce after having sold every thing, 
 and announcing that I left for a foreign country. My fortune 
 has been realized ; and the bank bills of which it is composed 
 will have arrived yesterday for an honest father of a family, who 
 will be made happy by them. I have so arranged it that he 
 will not know from whom they came. Having nothing more 
 to do in the world, I leave it Adieu." 
 
 As I have no desire to make this chapter rival Madame Tus- 
 saud's chamber of horrors, I will briefly add two other instances 
 of those before me, showing how powerful a hold this crime has 
 upon those in whom hope and joy usually burn brightest. 
 
 The first is that of a girl of fifteen, who destroyed herself from 
 jealousy of the love her mother bore her only sister, an infant of 
 but two years. The other was one of the best pupils of the 
 "Lycee Bonaparte," who, being wrongfully suspected of copying 
 an exercise, disguised his intent, under the appearance of more 
 than ordinary good conduct, until he had provided himself with 
 the means of self-destruction. He then locked himself in his 
 room, set fire to the charcocl, went to bed, and calmly awaited 
 suflbcation. Fortunately, he was discovered, just in season to 
 save his life. 
 
 The annual number of suicides in France, is about twenty-five 
 hundred. In Paris they vary materially. In 1837, there were 
 two hundred and seventy-seven. In 1840, three hundred and 
 forty-six ; and in 1843, four hundred and twenty-seven. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 A Sunday's walk. 
 
 I KNOW no better way to convey a correct idea of a Parisian 
 Sabbath, than simply to relate what one sees in a walk on that 
 day. On the 15th of February, I sallied out at mid-day, and 
 proceeding up the E-ue de la Paix, met a troop of cavalry 
 coming down at full trot, duite a number of the shops were 
 closed, and there were not many citizens in the streets. Indeed, 
 for the dissipated and fashionable, it was about the time to 
 expect them to be rubbing their eyes in bed, aghast at the 
 thought that it was time to get up. The few that were out, 
 were evidently in search, either of breakfast or some means to 
 dissipate the ennui of the day of rest. Around the play-bills 
 were the usual clusters, in meditation deep, whether to listen to 
 Cruvelli at the Italian, to applaud their old favorite Ugulde at 
 the Opera Comique, weep with Rachel at the Fran^aise, or 
 laugh at the wit of the Montansier. Among the twenty-six 
 theatres, it is to be hoped that each pleasure-hunter found one 
 to his taste. There was also the usual assortment of concerts 
 and fancy and masked balls. But the extraordinary attraction 
 of the day was a pugilistic exhibition at the Salle Montesquieu, 
 and a general contest with all sorts of arms, the notice closing 
 thus : " The names of the professors who come together will 
 attract, without doubt, all the true Parisian fashion to this 
 solemnity." 
 
 Following a crowd into a large hall, I found myself in an 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 57 
 
 auction-room, filled with rich furuiture, silver-plate, and other 
 articles belonging to some wealthy person lately deceased, whose 
 heirs preferred the ready money. Sunday was selected for 
 exhibiting them, as it was so convenient for the beau-monde 
 to drop in on their way to church. Ladies were fingering 
 specimens of Sevres porcelain with one hand, while in the other 
 they piously clasped their prayer-books. The bills said the sale 
 was for to-morrow, and the purchasers were to pay five per 
 cent, on the amount sold, to defray the expenses of the sale. I 
 asked a Frenchman why the purchasers were required to pay 
 the commission for selling. " Why should they not ?" he re- 
 plied ; " they have the benefit of the articles they purchase." 
 I thought to myself that cash in the seller's pocket was a more 
 convenient commodity than a marble Venus or bronze Antinous 
 in the parlor of the purchaser, and consequently more justly to 
 be paid for. I afterward found, having occasion to dispose of 
 some furniture, that the seller was subjected also to a tax of six 
 per cent., making eleven per cent, levied on all goods sold at 
 auction. Upon asking the auctioneer why both parties were 
 thus taxed, he informed me that his per centage was less than 
 four per cent., the remaining seven being consumed by govern- 
 ment taxes and a public fund. The business, like that of the 
 undertakers, is a sort of semi-municipal monopoly ; and, whether 
 well or badly served, the public must employ the few licensed 
 auctioneers. At all sales there are two criers — one repeating 
 from the other — the superior only wielding the deciding ham- 
 mer All articles are put up at an auctioneer's bid publicly 
 declared. To an American their system appears very cumber- 
 some and dilatory ; and a sale seldom commences within an 
 hour or two of the appointed time. The sales are held in 
 certain fine hotels erected for the purpose. 
 
 Leaving the Rue de Jeuneurs, I passed down the Rue Mont- 
 martre, finding myself among an entirely difTerent character of 
 
58 PAPJSIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 population from that of the Boulevards, so far as externals went. 
 Blouses and caps were decidedly in the majority. Mechanics 
 were busy on new buildings, but the shop-keepers looked as if 
 they would miuch prefer to be any where else than behind their 
 counters. This I attributed to a bright sun, which, having 
 suddenly come out, invited all the world to come out also. The 
 markets were as lively as ant-hills. It was evident there were 
 many good dinners in contemplation. 
 
 The stranger who confines his walks to the new parts of Paris 
 can have no idea of how and in what the poor people live. To 
 ascertain this, he must thread the labyrinth of gloomy streets 
 that lie between St. Eustache on one side of the river, and the 
 Pantheon on the other. He will find many in which it is doubt- 
 ful if the light of the sun ever reaches the pavement ; so narrow, 
 that it would be nothing strange should the inhabitants shake 
 hands from their chamber-windows on either side. The houses 
 are all of stone, lofty, and stained with the accumulated grime 
 of centuries. The narrow, dark entrances look as if leading to 
 subterranean galleries. There is dirt within and dirt without ; 
 there are no accumulations of filth on the pavements, but there 
 are no sidewalks, and the feet slip about over their greasy surface 
 as if it had been freshly oiled. It is in these retreats that poverty 
 and students make their homes. As I threaded my way tlirough 
 this forbidding quarter, I ceased to wonder that families who live 
 constantly in Paris, in process of time, become extinct. At this 
 hour there was not much stir in this part of the human hive ; 
 but to account for this it must be borne in mind, that there are 
 thirty thousand people in Paris who dare not show themselves in 
 the day. Like bats, their safety is solely in the dark. "Woe to 
 the stranger who falls into their toils, and no armed guardian of 
 the night nigh. The search for the burial-place of Moses would 
 not be more futile than the attempt to trace his end. I do not 
 mean to say that because a street is narrow, dark and filthy, it 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 59 
 
 is the abode of these land-pirates, but simply that there are streets 
 in this part of the city which no prudent person should enter after 
 night-fall. And in the day- time it is not altogether without risk, 
 owing to a habit in much lepute among the dextrous, of coming 
 behind the pedestrian slily, and jamming his hat down over his 
 head. While the victim is disengaging himself, the assailant 
 makes oft' with his purse or watch. 
 
 It was a relief to reach the quays. Near the Morgue were sev- 
 eral groups assembled around the usual variety of mountebanks 
 that gather their harvest of coppers on Sunday in every quarter 
 of the metropolis. They reminded me of the truth of a saying 
 of Rabelais — not the demoniacal mocker of the sixteenth century, 
 but a contemporary Protestant doctor of Montpellier : " The Paris- 
 ians," says Rabelais, " are so silly, so stupid, and so inapt by na- 
 ture, that a buffoon, a swiix-carrier, a mule with bells, or an old 
 fool in a square, will assemble more people than a sound, evan- 
 gelical preacher." 
 
 All the groups were nov, however, of this description. The 
 Parisians love fun, but they are as willing to extract it from the 
 sciences as from any other quarter. I was much amused to hear 
 a philosopher in blouse recount the merits of a strange-looking 
 machine before him. He called it a " dynamique physique," 
 recommended by the medical faculty to test the strength of the 
 arms, the blood, the lungs, &c. A fellow-blouse, a young Her- 
 cules in looks, paid a " sous " and took hold of the wires attached 
 to a little box, containing, I suppose, the electric fluid, and from 
 which projected a light handle. This the professor began to turn. 
 The blouse resisted with his utmost strength, but the wires con- 
 tracted and pulled him straight to the box, much to his astonish- 
 ment and more against hi& will, as he had evidently calculated 
 upon an easy victory over the slight apparatus before him. He 
 went off, rubbing his arms with ludicrous energy. 
 
 Near by was a market of the feathered tribe, guinea-pigs, cats, 
 
60 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FUENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 dogs, and all sorts of birds, and clean and unclean things in cages, 
 which form the usual assortment of pets to both sexes of all ages 
 in Paris. It requires no little dexterity in the crowded thorough- 
 fares, to avoid being tripped up, by the strings by which the pup- 
 pies — quadrupeds always when so attached — are secured to the 
 belles in their promenades They are rightly named pets, as no 
 equanimity is proof against that condition of temper, arising from 
 an accident of this nature, especially if, as is not uncommon, there 
 is a biped puppy at the other end of the line. After all, what 
 can be more natural than these companionships, if the principle 
 be correct, that " a fellow-feeling makes one wondrous kind ?" 
 
 Leaving philosophers and puppies, I followed the R.ue St. 
 Jacques, until I found myself in the ancient " Thebaide " of Paris, 
 so called on account of its numerous and extensive religious estab- 
 lishments, the retreats of courtesans disgusted with the world, 
 and high-born ladies who would, like Yalliere, expiate by the 
 austerities of conventual life, the follies and errors of their youth. 
 Their sites were judiciously selected, for they are all built over 
 the catacombs, in which now repose a population of the dead, 
 three times as numerous as that of living Paris. The Revolution 
 has left of the past institutions nothing but their names. The 
 Val de Grace (Vale of Grace) is to-day a military hospital ; the 
 Convent of the Visitation of Ste. Marie, made commemorable by 
 the virtues of Mademoiselle de La Fayette, a house of correction 
 for disorderly women ; the famous " Abbaye du Port Royal," the 
 abode of celibacy and all the Christian virtues, a lying-in hos- 
 pital ; and, stranger fate than all, the Church of St. Benoit Tri 
 nite, a low theatre, where the students and washerwomen of thi& 
 quarter assemble to applaud the obscene comedies and furiou? 
 dramas, which resound within the walls that once echoed only 
 the praises of Almighty God. To a far more appropriate use has 
 the Cemetery of Bonne Nouvelle arrived, if the inhabitants of the 
 tomb may be supposed to have the same tastes, as when they 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. fi] 
 
 dwelt in the flesh. It is now the site of the theatre " Gymnase 
 Dramatique." 
 
 The " Thebaide" of modern times is the abode of a rehgious, 
 poor, and laborious population. I entered their humble church 
 with far more satisfaction than the Madeleine, for it was built 
 by the gratuitous labor of the working people, devoting, each 
 week, a day to this pious task, their masters giving the mate- 
 rials, and an illustrious penitent in a neighboring convent — the 
 sister of the great Conde, one of the heroines of the Fronde — 
 the Duchess of Longueville, providing the marble and sacred 
 vessels of the altar. 
 
 The Chapel of the Yale of Grace, now a military church, is 
 one of the finest monuments of the city. It was founded by 
 Anne of Austria, in fulfillment of a vow to build a church, in 
 case she gave birth to an heir to the throne. She had been 
 married twenty-two years without issue, and her final reconcilia- 
 tion with her husband Louis XIII., of which Louis XIV. was the 
 fruit, is attributed to the noble sentiments with which Mademoi- 
 selle de La Fayette had inspired the king, at the sacrifice of her 
 own love. Her life is one of the brightest triumphs of female 
 virtue on record, and stands out in almost solitary relief of per- 
 fect purity of thought and action, among the long list of the 
 brilliant and beautiful of her sex, that graced the courts of 
 France, during the reigns of her earlier Bourbon monarchs. 
 
 The high altar is a copy of that of St. Peter's at Rome. The 
 dome, painted on stone by Mignard, is called one of the finest 
 frescoes in France. Its colors appear to have a little faded. The 
 confessional used by Mademoiselle de la Valliere, previous to her 
 taking the vail at the Carmelites, is still preserved. As it was 
 not the hour, of service, the church was deserted by all, except 
 the curious like myself Before I left, an attendant commenced 
 lighting the candles for vespers. 
 
 Next I sought that of the Sorbonne. On entering the gloomy 
 
62 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 ftourt-yard of this celebrated college, I found not a living being 
 to greet me. The silence was as perfect as if the dead lan- 
 guages had literally driven the living from out its halls. The 
 porter was gone, and his lodge was empty. At last I discovered, 
 in one of the cells of the archway, an old woman, who informed 
 me that, by ascending four long flights of stairs in the most re- 
 mote corner of the quadrangular edifice, I would probably find 
 the sacristan. The tomb and monument of Cardinal Richelieu 
 was worth the trouble, so I commenced the ascent. Midway I 
 met a domestic, who, learning my wants, not only volunteered 
 to find the sacristan, but declined a fee for his trouble. This 
 official soon appeared and let me into the church, which it seems 
 is kept locked up for his special benefit. 
 
 The monument is the finest in France. It is of marble, and 
 was executed by Giradon. The Cardinal is in a reclining pos- 
 ture, sustained by Religion, represented by his niece, the Duchess 
 of Guyon. Another, the Duchess of Frousac, personifies Sci- 
 ence, weeping at his feet. It was concealed during the Revolu- 
 tion, but the tomb was opened, and the heart of the cardinal 
 placed on a pike, and paraded about the streets. The person 
 into whose hands it fell, bequeathed it to his son, who was 
 finally compelled by law to restore it to its proper resting-place. 
 I asked the the sacristan if the students ever attended church. 
 He shook his head gravely, as he replied " No," correcting him- 
 self, however, by adding, " Now and then one." 
 
 The Guillotine and entrance to the Catacombs are both in 
 the immediate vicinity, but neither can be seen except by special 
 favor or very considerable expense. For the first I had no curi- 
 osity, but I should have been gratified at a view of this immense 
 subterranean Golgotha, which, extending under more than one 
 sixth of the capital, undermines the Pantheon, the Odeon, Ob- 
 servatory, the Palace of the Luxembourg, the streets La Harpe, 
 St. Jacques, and, strange to say, Hell itself. Visitors are inter- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. r,3 
 
 dieted on account of the dangerous state of the roofs, which re- 
 quire constant propping. The entrance to the Catacombs is 
 very appropriately at the " Barriere d'Enfer," (Gate of Hell.) 
 
 Making a virtue of necessity, I left the dead below the city 
 in the undisturbed solitude of their abode, and proceeded to visit 
 the Cemetery of Mont Parnasse, outside the barrier of that name. 
 The vacant spaces between the Boulevards and the gate of the 
 city were filled with peddlers, jugglers, and a crowd busy in buy- 
 ing or applauding. The usual array of stone-cutters' shops, em- 
 bracing every variety of unlettered monuments, awaiting the 
 record of departed virtues, betokened the proximity of the bury- 
 ing-ground. Passing through the gate, I found myself in the 
 centre of a fair of the lowest class. The amusements, gardens, 
 and cafes bore the same relation to the corresponding resorts 
 within the walls, as that receptacle of the debris of the vanities 
 and miseries of Paris, the market of old linen, does to the elegant 
 shops of the Rue Vivienne. "Wine was but six cents a bottle, 
 and brandy twenty. The liquor shops abutted upon the veiy 
 walls of the cemetery. They were filled to overflowing, and the 
 noise that arose from the French tongues, made doubly active 
 by the stimulus of their favorite beverages, can only be conceived 
 by ears that have listened to it. The clatter of fifty cotton mills 
 is silence in comparison. Cake and pie women cried their co- 
 mestibles at every pace. The clear air of heaven was poisoned 
 Dy the fumes of the vilest tobacco ascending from the filthiest of 
 pipes. It was too early in the day for intoxication to have made 
 much progress, but the tide of debauch was evidently on the rise. 
 Such was the spectacle allowed by French taste to exist almost 
 over the graves of their parents. And yet the same people un- 
 cover their heads to a passing funeral. 
 
 In front of the cemetery wall was a line of some forty women, 
 each with a number and her name on a little sign, and having 
 displayed before her an assortment of gifts of all sorts, such as 
 
64 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES 
 
 French affection lavishes upon buried friends. There were stat- 
 uettes of saints and innocents ; crucifixes and Christs ; artificial 
 flowers ; porcelain vases ; natural wreaths ; and piles of white 
 and yellow immortelles inscribed on them in black letters, " a 
 mon pere," " a ma mere," and so on through the entire degrees 
 of consanguinity and friendship. Some had simply " amour," 
 " souvenir," " regard," &c. Each one of the forty hucksters of 
 tributes of afiection assailed the wayfarers with every variety 
 and tone of argument, to induce a sale of her wares in preference 
 to those of her neighbors. The mourner who visits the grave 
 must run this gauntlet of traflic. Habit, doubtless, as in every 
 thing else, renders the nuisance less noticeable ; but a custom at 
 the entrance of a cemetery, which reminds an American of the 
 contests of hackney-coachmen at a steamboat landing, strikes 
 him as jarring painfully with the sacredness of the place. I 
 was pleased to see, however, that almost every visitor brought 
 some souvenir to hang up over the graves they came to visit. 
 This was particularly the case with little children, and must 
 inspire them not only with respect for the departed, but divest 
 the grave-yard of that indefinable horror with which it is too 
 apt to be regarded by the young in America. 
 
 Mont Parnasse is a pleasing contrast to Pere la Chaise. Like 
 all French cemeteries, it is laid out with the mathematical pre- 
 cision of a town, and the graves so crowded, that they literally 
 are in want of elbow-room. Still the greater number were sim- 
 ple and appropriate. All had more or less tokens of the affection 
 of the living about them. There were enough trees to give it a 
 rural aspect, although they were planted in stiff rows. The 
 family tombs had none of the cold and stately magnificence of 
 Pere la Chaise. They were true to their intent externally. 
 The interior arrangements were not in keeping with the spiritual 
 world, however much they might correspond with the taste of 
 the living. I counted no less than one hundred and twelve 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. en 
 
 "immortelles" on one grave. These are as touching a memorial 
 for affection to offer as can be devised. But to look into a tomb 
 through a gilt grating, and see upon an altar, in form of a dress- 
 ing-table, vases of artificial flowers, silver candlesticks, or a gilt 
 lamp, and the usual decorations of a boudoir, recalls too much 
 of the coquetry of life. Yet such is French taste in the decora- 
 tion of the abodes of death, and the crowd press to see this vain 
 display, with the same light expressions of admiration that they 
 utter around an exhibition of fashionable novelties in a shop- 
 window. 
 
 Pere la Chaise is the parent of modern rural cemeteries But 
 what a contrast does it afford to 
 the natural beauties of a Mount 
 Auburn, or a Greenwood ! In- 
 stead of the labyrinthine paths, 
 bordered with flowers and over- 
 shadowed by forest trees, nature 
 refined by art, yet leaving undis- 
 turbed that solitude which afflic- 
 tion seeks as a repose for its dead, 
 
 it is literally a necropolis. It has ^^ fontaine. moliere. 
 its paved streets and walks, its monuments of every size and 
 fashion, so closely piled together, that nature is entirely banished. 
 It is a wilderness of carved stone, and an album of epitaphs, to 
 read which one would fain believe that naught but virtue and 
 worth ever dwelt in Paris. If these be true, where are the bad 
 buried ? What are we to think of the pride of birth, that builds 
 a mausoleum to a 
 
 " Very high, very excellent, 
 
 and very powerful Princess, 
 
 aged one day?" 
 
 How different the tomb-stone of genuine affection with its sim- 
 ple "Marie." This Mary may have followed Jesus like those 
 
60 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 who were latest at the cross, and first at the grave. She may- 
 have been the infant of a day, or the mother whose eyes were 
 closed by a new-born babe. Whoever she was, modest love re- 
 tains the secret. 
 
 A neighboring epitaph was of a cloth-merchant, terminating 
 his catalogue of virtues with the announcement " His widow 
 continues his business, Rue Saint Denis, 349." 
 
 This epitaph, so ultilitarian and business-like, recalls to my 
 mind that of Milton in Westminister Abbey, in which the im- 
 mortality of the poet is quite engulfed in the egotism of the 
 erector, who, under the pretense of honoring him, to whom 
 neither marble nor consecrated ground can add honor, sought 
 for himself and his titles a distinction which survives only to 
 proclaim his ridiculous and ungrammatical vanity. It is as 
 folloM's : 
 
 A East of Milton. 
 
 [Underneath.] 
 
 "Milton. 
 
 In the Year of our Lord Jesus Christ 
 
 1707 
 
 This Bust of the Author of Paradise 
 
 Lost was placed by William 
 
 Benson, Esquire, One of the 
 
 Two Auditors of the Imprests 
 
 to his Majesty, George 2nd., 
 
 formerly Surveyor General 
 
 of the Works to his Majesty 
 
 King George the First. 
 
 Keysbrook was the 
 Statuary who cut it." 
 
 This is about equal in pathos to the famous apostrophe : 
 
 "0 Sophonisba, Sophonisba !" 
 
 The situation of Pere la Chaise, as regards the view of Paris and 
 its environs, is beautiful. Its chief attraction is the monument 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 67 
 
 of Abelard and Heloise, a delicate Gothic 
 structure, more suitable for some sacred edi- 
 fice, than the open air. From the number 
 of immortelles hung about it, it is evident 
 that the memory of their loves is still green 
 in the hearts of their countrymen. 
 
 All that wealth and taste can create 
 from stone has been done to honor the dis- 
 tinguished dead that are here interred ; yet 
 the most conspicuous monument of all, a 
 light-house in proportions and design, bears the name of an 
 individual laiown only for its extravagant cost. Napoleon's 
 
 HELOISE ET ABEtLARD. 
 
 MASSENA. LEFEBVRE. 
 
 CAMBACERES. 
 
 marshals lie thick here, but the bravest of them all has neither 
 stone nor story to mark the spot where he sleeps. This rivalry 
 of magnificence in the house of death extends so far, that M. 
 Boulard journeyed to the quarries of Carrara to select the spot- 
 less marble that now presses upon his remains. 
 
 There are already more than sixteen thousand tombs on which 
 have "been expended upward of $25,000,000, yet owing to the 
 character of the material of which they are in general construct- 
 ed, and their dehcacy of execution, they will mostly disappear 
 before the end of the present century. I was particularly struck 
 with one monument, composed in part of mutilated sculptures from 
 
6H PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 the resting-place of some subject of Augustus 
 or Alexander, who little thought, in preparing 
 himself a proud sepulchre, he was but fur- 
 nishing the materials to erect the tomb of a 
 descendant of a barbarous Gaul. I noticed 
 that the government had erased from the 
 gateways the words " Liberte, egalite, frater- 
 nite," the only spots where they could Avith 
 truth have remained. countess demidoff. 
 
 While on the subject of monuments I would call the visitor's 
 attention to one of Valentine Balbiano, wife of Rene Biraque, 
 carved by Pilou. It is on the ground floor of the Louvre, in the 
 Hall of the Sculptures of the Middle Ages and Revival of Arts. 
 Above is a beautiful female, of perfect contour, and richly dressed 
 in the fashion of the era, the whole delicately sculptured in 
 white marble. Below in bas-relief, is the same female lying in 
 her coffin, with her loins only covered, and wasted away to the 
 extremest point of attenuation, leaving her bosom, face, and other 
 portions of the body exposed. The contrast between the lovely 
 figure above and the shrunken remains of loveliness beneath, ex- 
 hibiting all that is most repulsive in death, is very striking, 
 some would say disgusting. At all events, it is a curious fancy 
 and not without its moral. 
 
 To return to my walk. Re-entering the city, I met crowds 
 pushing on to the cheaper wine-shops and amusements outside 
 the barrier. As I passed the stately Temple of St. Sulpice, its 
 congregation was entering for evening worship. Right opposite 
 was a theatre, in which the performers were all " singes sa- 
 vants," learned monkeys. That, too, had its throng. The 
 Faubourg St. Germain wore its usual air of aristocratic quiet, 
 except there were more ladies about than usual, wending their 
 way to the fashionable church of St. Thomas d'Aquin. Most of 
 them were in mourning for the late Duchess d'Angouleme, who 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 69 
 
 was gi-eatly beloved by the Legitimists. It is said, she occasion- 
 ally visited them incognito from her place of exile, the govern- 
 ment considerately turning a blind eye to that quarter on those 
 occasions. 
 
 Of the fullness of the Museums it is needless to speak. Next 
 to religious instructions they are the most desirable schools for 
 the people, and it w^as gratifying to see the interest with which 
 all classes flock to them. 
 
 GliAiND AVKNUE OF THE TUILEKIK.- 
 
 The Garden of the Tuileries swarmed like an ant-hill with 
 children, dressed like show-dolls, and their ''bo7ines'' and mammas. 
 It was easy to see how the national taste for display was perpet- 
 uated. These little sprouts already manifested an incipient 
 vanity which promised soon to swell into a settled passion. 
 Their personal appearance was their first care. Their toilette 
 preserved, they then frohcked with what spirit and liberty were 
 left them. It required no httle dexterity to avoid stepping upon 
 some toddling infant, to prevent being tripped up by a stray 
 
^0 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 vl LN OF THE TLILEllIES ON SUNDAY. 
 
 lioop, or hit by a flying ball. The boys were sailing miniature 
 boats on the ponds, while their sisters fed the swans. There 
 was no quarreling or ill-humor. I returned to my lodgings 
 with their juvenile shouts still ringing in my ears, and had hardly 
 seated myself, before a strolling musician, with a dancing monkey 
 let off a whole volley of polkas and mazourkas from his hand- 
 organ, right under my window ; but as I gave him no copper 
 he removed his quarters to some more propitious neighborhood. 
 He was succeeded by another of his species, who played, and 
 admirably too, what seemed to me the strangest of all the 
 strange things I had seen and heard that day, the good old 
 familiar psalm tunes of Old Hundred and Granville. These last 
 were indeed a treat in Paris. 
 
 I do wrong to say the strangest of all the strange things I had 
 seen that day, for I think my readers will agree with me, that 
 the following notice, which I copied verbatim from the shutters 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 71 
 
 of a shop on the Boulevard Madeleine, merits for Paris that 
 description : " Pour obvier un desagrement qui par le temps qui 
 court, arrive trop souvent de venir quelque fbis de fort loin les 
 dimanches et fetes chomees frapper nos portes avec perseverance 
 pour se procurer de nos denrees. Commo la treve qui fesons aux 
 affaires les jours feries nous est dictee par nos croyances, il est 
 bien qu'on sache que les ventes du Bazar Provencal n'ont bien 
 que les six jours ouvrables de la semaine, le septieme etait con- 
 sacre au repos comme Ton fait nos peres sans interruption par la 
 tradition jusqu'a la promulgation du decalogue dicte par le tout 
 puissant a Moise sur le Mont Sinai, Heritiers des croyances et 
 practiques religieuses de nos aieux, nous suivons ponctuellement 
 la hgne qu'ils nous ont tracee sans en devier un iota." In free 
 English as follows : "To obviate the inconvenience which, as 
 the times run, happens too often, that persons come from a dis- 
 tance sometimes, on Sundays and holy-days, to knock persevering- 
 ly at our doors to purchase our merchandise, this is to give notice, 
 that we open our shop only on the six working-days of the w^eek, 
 the seventh being consecrated to repose, as was done by our 
 fathers without interruption, ordered by tradition and the deca- 
 logue dictated by the Almighty to Moses on Mount Sinai. In- 
 heriting the religious faith and practices of our ancestors, we 
 follow strictly the line that they have traced for us without 
 deviating an iota." 
 
 The restaurateur of Paris who closes his doors from religious 
 principle on Sunday, is deserving of respect for his abnegation 
 of his pecuniary interest. But to add to this a sermon in an 
 indelible inscription on his window-shutters, on the observance 
 of the Sabbath, is an evidence of moral courage one little expects 
 to find in this gay and pleasure-loving capital. I must add, 
 however, that our sermonizing shopkeeper notified the public that 
 he would send purchases home on Sunday morning, when re- 
 quired. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PRODIGALITY OF THE ROMAN CHURCH. 
 
 To the lovers of vocal music the Church of Saint Elizabeth in 
 the Rue du Temple affords a rare treat in the voice of one of the 
 choir, a boy of thirteen, the son of a shoemaker. His celebrity 
 is such that opera singers and the amateurs of Paris flock to hear 
 him. Large offers have been made him to sing at the Made- 
 leine, but he has refused to leave his parish church. A friend 
 in describing to me his voice, compared it to that of an angel. 
 Although no musician, and never having had the satisfaction to 
 hear a celestial songster, yet I must confess, that my enraptured 
 ears were ravished with the melody of his rich notes, now filling 
 every portion of the church with their sonorous harmony, then 
 subsiding into a strain scarcely audible, yet thrilling every nerve 
 with pleasure. His organ is wonderful, and if its power is pre- 
 served will lead him to eminence. 
 
 The Catholic ritual is undoubtedly an impressive form of wor- 
 ship. But, like the stage, it requires to be seen from a certain 
 distance to preserve the sacred illusion. "Where there is so much 
 machinery and ceremony, there can not fail to be a proportion 
 of tinsel and heartlessness, which ill accords with a Protestant's 
 idea of the simplicity and sincerity to be exhibited in divine 
 worship. It is true, education shapes our ideas, but it is equally 
 true that common sense does not always yield herself blindly to 
 habit, and reason will protest at the violence done her judgment. 
 A Catholic is armed at all points on questions of faith, but it 
 would puzzle the most zealous proselyte of Rome to defend on 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FUENCII PRINCIPLES. 
 
 73 
 
 any grounds of consistency with the doctrines of the meek and 
 lowly Jesus, many of the practices introduced by his church into 
 their rites. In the United States a clergyman who requires a 
 sexton to open and close for him the pulpit-door is viewed as 
 trespassing somewhat on the humility he preaches to his congre- 
 gation. The conscientious sensitiveness of such critics would be 
 alarmingly agitated in attending worship in this city. 
 
 I was at Saint Elizabeth's during vesper service, and took my 
 station in the rear of the altar, by the choir door which leads to 
 the sacristy. The position was well chosen to observe the cere- 
 mony. Of what Sydney Smith calls " man millinery " there was 
 the usual variety ; each of the different orders that take part in 
 the service having its peculiar costume. With the various genu- 
 flexions, lighting of candles, ringing of bells, elevation of the host, 
 every reader who has attended this service is familiar. To those 
 whose faith they quicken, they are well. But the going to and 
 fro between the choir and sacristy of the various assistants, often 
 smiling and winking as they passed, the dodging about of the 
 little boys with red skull-caps, the obsequious holding up of the 
 skirts of the priests by their juniors, 
 bespoke a service cumbered with 
 much serving. The most striking 
 figure, and, if there is any reliance to 
 be placed in Lavater, the most im- 
 portant in his own opinion, in the 
 scene was the " Suisse." Every 
 church has one or more, caricaturing 
 in costume the uniform of a field- 
 marshal. Those of San Roch, glitter 
 in gold lace, rich embroidery, chapeau 
 de bras, white tights, gloves, side- 
 arms, halbert in one hand, and an 
 immense cane with an enormou? 0-ilt 
 
 D 
 
 /^ 
 
 LE Sl'I?SE 
 
74 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 head in the other. My friend at Saint Elizabeth was the most 
 modestly an-ayed that I had seen of his class. He was of the 
 orthodox height, six feet and upward, shoulders in proportion 
 (for this size is a " sine qua non " to the office), wore a black 
 uniform with crimson facings, and silver embroidery, chapeau, 
 rapier, silver epaulet on one shoulder, and a ribbon knot with 
 three ends silver- worked on the other, buttons and stripe to pants 
 of same, gilt. He appeared so ill at ease, that I judged him a 
 novice in this harness. I noticed that he alone was privileged 
 to stand before the altar uncovered, and indeed his sole avoca- 
 tion seemed to be at certain intervals to bring the metal ends of 
 his spear and cane down upon the pavement with an emphasis 
 that made my toes involuntarily shrink within my boots. 
 Whenever the cure or vicars passed to another part of the 
 church he preceded them, causing the stone pavements to ring 
 to the pounding of his two weapons. On meeting his superiors, 
 he gave a half-military salute. The Suisse leads the way for 
 the priests who take up the collections during the service, cry- 
 ing out in an imposing voice — " Alms, if you please, for the 
 church, the poor, the worship of the Virgin," or whatever may 
 be the occasion. Indeed when the church is full, without 
 the aid of their colossal proportions and the salutary terror in- 
 spired by thei*r manner of handling their insignia of office, it would 
 be difficult for the priests to make their way from the high altar 
 to other spots where their functions call them. Before the service 
 concluded, there were several infant baptisms. The "Suisse" 
 ushered the parties into the baptismal chapel, and I followed him 
 to witness the ceremony. The first infant had only a mother 
 present, and the priest ordered the Suisse to stand sponsor. To 
 my surprise, he told him to take off his chapeau, which appeared 
 to surprise him too. As on eveiy other occasion that I have seen 
 this sacrament performed, it was done with such a rapidity as 
 lo render it utterly unintelligible ; the only word distinctly uttered, 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PR1NCIPL3S. 
 
 75 
 
 being at intervals by the Suisse, who responded " amen" in the 
 
 sharp, ringing tone that Jack gives when he rephes " Ay, ay, 
 
 Sir," to an unexpected hail. In the mean while he was occupied 
 
 with adjusting his shoulder-knot, and glancing about him evi- 
 
 idently to count the number of admiring eyes. As the Catholic 
 
 rite requires not only to wet the hair but the skin, this was so 
 
 liberally done that the infant uttered a most vigorous protest, in 
 
 accents any thing but in concert with the musical prodigy, who 
 
 at that moment was pouring forth his notes at the other end of 
 
 the church. The ceremony concluded with a lighted candle, and 
 
 the usual signing and kissing the cross, turning of robes, and 
 
 holding the end with the embroidered cross over the child's 
 
 head. 
 
 In this church there is a Mater Dolorosa by Bezard. It is a 
 
 dead Christ of the size of life sitting bolt upright, with nothing 
 
 on but a waist-cloth, in the arms of his mother, who looks 
 
76 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FEENCII PRINCIPLES. 
 
 younger than he, and is holding him with much the expression 
 and attitude any woman would assume with a corpse in her lap. 
 I have never seen a sacred subject more incongruously treated, 
 unless it is in a painting in the long gallery at the Louvre, by 
 one of the old masters, representing the three Marys assisting in 
 the descent from the cross. The mother of Jesus, who is sup- 
 porting her son's legs, is dressed in the fashionable costume of a 
 grand lady of the fourteenth century, with rich bracelets on her 
 bare arms, kid gloves deeply edged with fine lace on her hands, 
 and a profusion of pearls and diamonds on her neck and bosom. 
 St. E-och not long since boasted a painting of a black Christ, the 
 work of a Creole artist, but it has been removed. 
 
 In the Louvre there is also a ludicrous bas-relief, representing 
 Joseph at work at his carpenter's bench, while about him is 
 a squad of little angels piously picking up all his chips, and 
 quarreling as to who should get the most. The Virgin is watch- 
 ing the Infant Jesus asleep in a sort of Pilgrim Father's cradle, 
 buried up in heavy bed-clothes. Other infantile angels are 
 rocking the cradle and holding the thread for Mary's distaff, 
 which she is nimbly plying. The Almighty seated on a cloud, 
 with the Pope's tiara on his head, is watching the group with a 
 very parental air. Sad liberties are often taken by Catholic 
 artists with sacred subjects under the most devotional impulses. 
 
 The clergy are adroit in taking collections, if there is faith 
 to be placed in the power of beauty to draw the purse-strings. 
 The following is a sample of the usual notices given through the 
 newspapers. "An Assembly of Charity will be held at the 
 Church of St. Eustache, Sunday, 25th of January, on behalf of 
 the poor, assisted by Monsieur the Cure, the Sisters of St. Vin- 
 cent de Paule, and the work for the visitation of the sick. At 
 half past two, vespers and sermon by Monsieur the Abbe Du- 
 quesnay, Chanoine of Paris, the raising of the host by My Lord 
 Margueirie, Bishop of St. Fleur, named to the See of Autrens. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 77 
 
 The collection will be taken by Mesdames the Duchess of Gram- 
 mont, 38 Rue de la Ville I'Eveque, the Marquise de Vesins, 23 
 Rue d'Anjou St. Honore," and so on, naming the title and resi- 
 dence of each lady. 
 
 The office they undertake is no sinecure. I was present at 
 the fete of St. Cecile in the same church, when a collection was 
 taken. The ladies in rich toilets were conspicuously placed 
 in the stall of the trustees. At the termination of the discourse, 
 they sallied out on their errands of benevolence, each with a 
 beautifully wrought crimson velvet bag, with gold tassels and 
 strings in her hand, to receive the offerings of the charitable. 
 The church was densely crowded, and they were obliged to push 
 their way from chair to chair, as only a French lady knows 
 how, through the numberless knees that intercepted their pro- 
 gress. There were moments when I thought that even they 
 considered their philanthropy sorely tested. They persevered, 
 however, each taking a section, leaving no person unvisited. 
 They then stationed themselves at the gates of the nave, and 
 the doors of the church, kneeling on " Prie-dieu," so that every 
 one was compelled to run the gauntlet of their charitable plead- 
 ings, and the still more irresistible language of their lovely eyes, 
 for the third time. These successive depletions, joined to the 
 original one of a franc for a seat, upon entrance, lightened most 
 purses very considerably. Besides the pleasure of bestowing 
 charity through so fair a medium, three hundred and fifty of the 
 best musicians of Paris, executed a musical mass of Haydn's in 
 a manner worthy of the author. 
 
 Near the doors of most of the churches there are placed a 
 kind of sentry-box with seats, closed in front by a sort of desk. 
 In them sit the day long, with a patience that reminded me of 
 the hermit crab, while they themselves looked like venerable 
 rats peering from their holes, the smallest, grayest, wrinklcdest 
 specimens of the human species now extant. Indeed to the mat) 
 
78 
 
 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 TOUPET HOLDER. 
 
 of the street they bear about the same resemblance that dried 
 and pressed plants do to the fresh and 
 verdant. The oldest of our revolu- 
 tionary fathers would appear like a 
 stripling beside them. If Barnum 
 wants a male "Joice Heath," I rec- 
 ommend to him to select from these 
 antediluvians. Their sole duty is to 
 hold out to the faithful the " toupet" 
 or brush, which is dipped into holy 
 water. A little American girl in ask- 
 ing me its name and use, graphically 
 described it "as a thing with hairs 
 sticking out in the end of it, which 
 every body felt of as they went by." 
 There are in Paris forty-eight churches, all belonging to the 
 government. A church like the Madeleine has about sixty in- 
 dividuals attached to its service. They consist of a cure, vicars, 
 deacons, sub-deacons, chanters, wardens, sacristan, beadles, 
 Suisse, children of the altar, and choristers. The Archbishop 
 appoints the cures to the several churches. They are selected 
 from the oldest vicars, and have control of all matters in their 
 parish. 
 
 The Roman hierarchy has as many ranks and as rigid a sys- 
 tem of discipline as the army. The total of Catholic clergy in 
 France is about forty-two thousand, beside eight thousand five 
 hundred theological students in the different colleges. There 
 are fifteen archbishops, sixty-five bishops, one hundred and sev- 
 enty-six vicars-general, six hundred and sixty-one canons, three 
 thousand three hundred and one curates, and twenty-eight thou- 
 sand eight hundred and one priests. These last, who belong to 
 the " eglises succursales" (chapels of ease), are poorly paid, 
 indeed, compared with the Protestant clergy of England and 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PPvJNCTPLF.S. 71) 
 
 America, the incomes of their Frencli brethren are very pmall 
 The Archbishop of Paris has $8000 per annum ; the other 
 archbishops, little less than $3000 ; the bishops, $2000 ; cures, 
 from $250 to $1000 ; the vicars, $200 ; and subordinates in 
 proportion. These incomes are augmented by the fees arising 
 from occasional ceremonies. In Paris for a grand marriage the 
 cure receives $5; each vicar, $1-50; the beadle, $1; and the 
 other assistants according to their ranks. Louis Napoleon has 
 increased the stipends of the superior clergy about one third, by 
 which the budget for 1853 gives 3,000,000 francs more for Pub- 
 He Worship than that of 1852, which amounted to 41,000,000. 
 
 The churches enjoy also a prolific source of revenue, from 
 the ceremonies which their creed makes incumbent on all believ- 
 ers who would shorten their stay in purgatory, or be considered 
 as zealous for the faith. The price of a grand mass varies from 
 $10 to $60, according to its splendor; a low mass, which con- 
 sists solely of silent worship before the altar, can be had as cheaj) 
 as 15 cents ; funeral services, from $4 to $40 ; marriages, $3 
 to $40 ; a grand marriage made at the high altar, with carpets, 
 gilt arm-chairs, choir, &c., costs from $40 to $60. What re- 
 mains of these receipts after the apportioned division among the 
 clergy and assistants, is deposited in the church treasury, to de- 
 fray the expenses of robes, ornaments, and candles. For the 
 last, the rich ladies of the parish contribute liberally. The 
 burning of candles must be considered as particularly efficacious 
 in cleansing from sin, if a judgment can be formed from the 
 numbers offered and consumed before the different altars by the 
 devout women, for it is rarely that a man expends a " sous" for 
 this purpose. In each church there is a " magasin" of these 
 commodities under the charge of a woman, who has before her a 
 sort of triangular iron frame with points, on which the ligliled 
 candles are placed. The shrine oi" the patron saint of Paris, St. 
 Genevieve, in the Church of St Etienne du Mont, is kept con- 
 
8U PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 stantly illuminated, and generally there are to be seen persons 
 of both sexes praying before her tomb. 
 
 Collections are taken every Sunday for the poor, and to sup- 
 port the church. Baptisms, absolutions, and extreme unction are 
 administered gratis. The finances and books are in the charge 
 of "fabriciens" or trustees: generally six of the oldest and 
 wealthiest members of the parish, chosen by the parishioners at 
 large. They have a seat of honor fronting the pulpit, inclosed 
 like one of our pews, richly cushioned and slightly elevated above 
 the other worshipers. There are two ranges of seats in this 
 stall, on the lower of which the clergy sit during sermon time. 
 The total cost of the Catholic clergy of France is estimated at 
 $7,260,000 per annum. Before the revolution of 1789 it was 
 $28,000,000. The government gives in aid of their worship pro- 
 portionally to the Protestants and Jews ; to the former about 
 $260,000, and to the latter $22,000. There are six hundred 
 and forty one Calvinist and Lutheran ministers, forty of the Church 
 of England, eighty-six of other denominations, and eight Grand 
 Rabbins. 
 
 Architecture and the decorative arts are largely indebted to 
 the Catholic church. Henry VII. 's Chapel at Westminster is 
 justly considered a fine specimen of florid Gothic architecture, but 
 the gem of this style is the Sainte Chapelle, erected by St. Louis 
 in 1245-8. To visit this chapel a written permission from the 
 Minister of Public Works is required ; but on two occasions I 
 found a " douceur" equally as efl[icacious to the gentlemanly officer 
 who had it in charge, and who informs visitors of its history. I 
 should not have known this fact, however, if it had not been for 
 a man in a blouse, who, as I was gazing at the exterior with a 
 look of raw admiration that told the stranger, inquired if Mon- 
 sieur would like to go in. Upon my informing him I was minus 
 the indispensable billet, he gave me some mysterious directions 
 as to what course to pursue, to elevate the "complaisance" of 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 81 
 
 the door-keeper to the point necessary to allow me to speak a few 
 words to Monsieur his superior within. Once within, a franc is 
 as good as the signature of the Minister, and when out, a few 
 sous sent my informant on his way rejoicing, to waylay another 
 greenhorn. There seems to be an unaccountable itching in our 
 nature to see what, in nine cases out of ten, is not worth seeing, 
 if it be forbidden. I have seen five francs open the doors of the 
 Chapel of the Invalides, where the only recompense is a mass of 
 stone and masonry in process of being wrought into the most mag- 
 nificent tomb in Europe, but which at present scarcely proclaims 
 what it will be. The Sainte Chapelle, like all gems of art, to be 
 described must be seen. Neither dimensions, technical terms, nor 
 the cost added, give any adequate idea of beautiful structures. 
 A landscape may be described, because the general beauties of 
 nature are familiar to all ; but a description in which to be ex- 
 act, crocheted gables, tripartite archings, and perforated spandrels 
 must figure, would be like the attempt to convey the idea of 
 the beauty of the loveliest flowers by a repetition of their scientific 
 nomenclature. 
 
 Near the altar is a side chapel with a small window, accessi- 
 ble only from below. In this chapel that amiable sovereign Louis 
 XI. said his prayers in fear and trembling, lest even the defense 
 of stone and mortar should not prevent an assassin from getting 
 in his rear and destroying him in sight of the very relics, among 
 which was a piece of the true cross and the crown of thorns, which 
 this chapel was built to hold. These relics cost St. Louis enough 
 to be authentic. They are now deposited at Notre Dame. I in- 
 quired of the faithful guardian of the Chapelle if they were visi- 
 ble. He sagely replied, he really did not know, but added with 
 a smile that savored of five franc pieces, if the proper means 
 were pursued, he really had no doubt that that pleasure could be 
 had. 
 
 Externally, Notre Dame is the most beautiful ecclesiastical 
 
82 
 
 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCirLES. 
 
 structure in Paris. Internally, it is gloomy and simple to a fault. 
 The reverse is true of St. Eustache, where the exterior is an odd 
 medley of various styles of Gothic and Grecian architecture, incrust- 
 ed in part on two sides with old buildings, giving it the appearance 
 of a beautiful shell disfigured with barnacles. The northern 
 doorway of the transept is magnificent, but to my mind the piu- 
 
 NOTKE DAME. 
 
 portions and character of its interior harmonize far better with 
 the spirit of Christian worship, than the gorgeous splendor which 
 characterizes the churches of Madeleine and Notre Dame de 
 Lorette. A French writer says of the latter, that it is M^orthy of 
 the incredulous and sensual age that constructed it, where the 
 worst taste is shovv^n equally in the tout ensemble as in the details, 
 where one finds pictures of Saints in the postures of prostitutes, 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES 
 
 S3 
 
 and where are heaped together the furniture of a cofiee-house, 
 the seductions of a theatre, and the blandishments of haunts of 
 dissipation ; it is a sort of appendage to the opera, of which it is 
 the parish : a boudoir worthy of the quarter, and whicli has had 
 the honor to give its name to the grisettes of its neighborhood. 
 This may be too severe, but it needs but a glance at the mere- 
 tricious character of its decorations to make the visitor fear that 
 he has mistaken an opera-house Ibr a church. In keeping witii 
 the character in this respect, it is said to be, by excellence, the 
 church where the vain and beautiful most do congregate to ex- 
 hibit themselves and their newest fashions. 
 
 THE MADELEINE AND THE BOULEVARDS 
 
 St. Yincent de Paule partakes somewhat of this glitter of 
 gold, but in better taste. The roof is very beautiful. The most 
 curious church in Paris is St. Etienne du Mont, in which are 
 beautifully blended the Gothic style, and that of the revival of 
 the arts. Its stained glass and magnificent rood-loft, a chef- 
 
84 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 d'ceuvre of lightness and delicacy, attract crowds of visitors. 
 But the church on which modern art has exhausted its genius, 
 is the Madeleine. Situated on one of the most commanding 
 positions of Paris, the stranger of but a day is sure to see it. 
 Externally it is the Parthenon, but to rival that edifice, it re- 
 quires the purer material and clearer sky, as well as the match- 
 less sculpture of its Athenian prototype. It is strictly a temple, 
 but neither in plan nor finish adapted to the simplicity of Chris- 
 tianity. It should have been, as Napoleon contemplated, dedi- 
 cated to the mihtary glories of France. Then, the luxuriance 
 and perfection of its decorations, harmonizing with its design, it 
 would have been viewed as a specimen of the wealth and re- 
 sources of art of the first military nation of modern times, appro- 
 priately devoted to perpetuating the memory of the achieve- 
 ments of those who have won fame for themselves and their 
 country. As it exists, it is an incongruous Museum of sculpture 
 and painting, so combined that all sense of the sacredness of the 
 objects is merged into admiration of the skill that executed them, 
 while the display of gilding and velvet, recalls rather the attrac- 
 tions of an opera and the luxury of a palace, than the mysteries 
 of faith. The greatest admirer of Napoleon would scarcely have 
 claimed for him the most conspicuous position in the decorations 
 of a Christian church, putting into shade, by the splendor of his 
 imperial robes, the gilded glories of the second person in the 
 Godhead and the Virgin Mother. 
 
 Six beautiful paintings on the tympans of the lateral arches 
 above the chapels illustrate events in the life of Mary Magdalen. 
 The southern end of the church is surmounted by the largest 
 sculptural pediment in existence. In the centre is the figure of 
 Christ, eighteen feet in height, and at his feet, in an attitude of 
 suppliant penitence, is the Magdalen. Other figures, represent- 
 ing the virtues and vices, fill the remaining space. The bronze 
 doors in front are thirty-three feet high by sixteen and a half 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 85 
 
 wide, barely inferior in size to those of St. Peter's at Rome. 
 They are divided into ten compartments, illustrating subjects 
 from the Old Testament. The most beautiful object, and wor- 
 thy of a place in any Christian temple, is the delicately sculp- 
 tured high altar, containing the feast of Cana in bas-relief. It 
 is surrounded by a group of the size of life in spotless marble, of 
 Magdalen borne to heaven by attendant angels. On either side 
 is an archangel in the attitude of prayer. These figures, so ex- 
 quisitely wrought, so pure in conception, and so appropriate in 
 design, atone, in some degree, for the incongruity displayed in 
 the other decorations of the edifice. 
 
 But neither by association nor shape is a Grecian temple 
 adapted for a Christian house of worship. Christianity, new to 
 the world in spirit and doctrine, required to model for itself its 
 sacred edifices. The middle ages have given us the specimens 
 best suited to its grave yet hopeful character. Architects, hav- 
 ing since traveled through a cycle of unsatisfactory novelties, are 
 now rapidly returning for their models to that genius which 
 produced those matchless samples of Gothic architecture, that 
 still remain the pride and delight of Europe. For myself, the 
 simple steeple of a New England meeting-house, or the antique 
 belfry of one of the village churches of France, gives rise to emo- 
 tions far more consonant with the spiritual wants of the soul 
 than the Madeleine and its sister edifices, with their untold 
 wealth lavished in displaying rather the pride of man than the 
 glory of God. 
 
 To those who love to witness the different forms in which 
 bereavement seeks consolation, it is worth their while to visit 
 the Chapel of St. Ferdinand, erected on the spot of the death 
 of the Duke of Orleans, July 13th, 1842. It is on the road to 
 Neuilly, and but a short walk from the Arch of Triumph. The 
 building is small, fifty feet long by twenty in height, in the form 
 of a mausoleum. It contains touching memorials of the sad 
 
86 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 scene, placed there by the bereaved family. On the altar, dedi- 
 cated to St. Ferdinand, is a marble group representing the Prince 
 on his death-bed, with an angel kneeling at his head, imploring 
 the divine compassion on the sufferer. The angel of this beau- 
 tiful group was the work of his sister, the Princess Marie, who, 
 when she wrought it, little thought her hands were carving the 
 monument of a brother. There is also a painting of the death 
 scene. The unconscious prince painfully gasping away his life, 
 is watched in mute grief by his father and mother, near whom 
 are the Princess Clementine, his brothers Aumale and Montpen- 
 sier, Marshals Soult and Gerard, and the Cure of Mery. Low 
 oaken presses, a confessional, a chair and prayer desk, all cover- 
 ed with black, and an ivory crucifix, give a painful reality to 
 this hour of mourning. A clock in an adjoining room perpetu- 
 ally marks ten minutes past four, the time of the duke's death. 
 Another represents in bronze, France grief-stricken, leaning over 
 a broken column, while the hand stands arrested at ten minutes 
 before noon, the moment of the accident. In the court-yard is a 
 cedar tree brought from Lebanon by the Duke of Orleans, and 
 planted by his son, the Count of Paris. Now that the fortune 
 of politics forbids, except the dead alone, of this family to remain 
 in their native land, this monument possesses an increased in- 
 terest. 
 
 In the Rue d'Anjou St. Honore, we find the Chapelle Expia- 
 toire, a beautiful and appropriate memento of the more misera- 
 ble fate of the elder Bourbons. It is erected upon the site of the 
 graves of Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette, who were here ob- 
 scurely buried immediately after their execution. If it had not 
 been for the faithful care of M. Descloseaux, their remains 
 would have been mingled and lost among the crowd of other 
 victims of the Revolution who were here interred, includhig the 
 Swiss guards, and by a just retribution, little foreseen, many of 
 their enemies also. Danton, Hebert and Robespierre, were here 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 87 
 
 obscurely and unceremoniously buried. Strange mingling of 
 dust I Swept away in the vortex of the storm they knew how 
 to raise but not to direct, they found only in death that '' egalite" 
 M'hich was the mockery of their lives. I know no more touch- 
 ing comment upon the misfortunes of the mistress of Versailles, 
 than the simple cash entiy made by the sexton, yet to be seen 
 in the parish records of the Madeleine, "Paid seven francs for a 
 coffin for the widow Capet." Her remains and those of the 
 king were transported to St. Denis in 1815, by Louis XVIII. 
 The exact spots whence they were taken are shown. Mass, for 
 the repose of their souls, is performed here daily. 
 
 If the arts have gained by the lavish expenditures of the 
 Catholics in their places of worship, it may be questioned 
 whether the true interests of religion have not proportionally suf- 
 fered. Magnificent temples proclaim the genius of man, but do 
 they fulfill the true intents and purposes of that religion which 
 was to exhibit itself in visiting and consoling the widows and 
 fatherless in their affliction ? Far be it from me to condemn 
 the desire to glorify God by the dedication to him of the proud- 
 est works of man. But it becomes a question, whether the 
 means are adapted to the end. While immense sums are ex- 
 pended on the building, we find not only the spiritual but the 
 temporal wants of the worshipers and clergy neglected. The 
 salaries of the latter are notoriously low, and no one will suppose 
 that forty-eight Catholic churches are adequate to the wants of 
 a city like Paris. Their congregations are larger since the 
 cholera, but having attended various churches punctually for 
 several months, both at morning and evening services, I am 
 satisfied that although they are comparatively as well filled as 
 Protestant churches in the United States, yet five hundred to 
 each would be a fair average of worshipers who remain during 
 the entire service. I do not include the crowd that is to be 
 seen continually entering and leaving, nfter carelessly cros.«ing 
 
88 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND TRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 themselves and bowing before the altar. Allowing these five 
 hundred to be changed entirely at morning and evening serv- 
 ices, we have less than fifty thousand worshipers each Sunday, 
 out of a population of upward of a million. It must be consid- 
 ered, however, that the Catholic churches are open daily, and 
 that the entire population have the opportunity to hear mass 
 during the week if they see fit But for the regular service of 
 the Sabbath, with a sermon, certainly not more than one twen- 
 tieth of the Catholic population of Paris are provided. This re- 
 sults from concentrating magnificence on a few churches instead 
 of building more and plainer for the actual accommodation of 
 the people. The Madeleine cost $2,615,800, and can accom- 
 modate not over one thousand persons within hearing distance of 
 the pulpit, though more can witness the ceremonies. $5,000,000 
 have been expended on the Pantheon, and the result is an archi- 
 tectural monument which one knows not whether most to con- 
 demn or admire. Useless as a church, it serves to mark the 
 spot where repose the ashes of Voltaire and Rousseau, either of 
 whom, deists though they were, lies with more consistency 
 within the walls of a Christian edifice than does the infamous 
 Cardinal Dubois, a man who pursued his career on principles 
 of avowed villainy, mocking alike at virtue and religion in every 
 form, v/hen hypocrisy would not serve him better. The holy 
 Catholic Church found place for his remains in the same edifice 
 that contains the ashes of the father of the deaf and dumb, the 
 Abbe de I'Epee — the church of St. Roch — and that too in an 
 age when it refused a Christian burial to Adrienne Le Couvreur, 
 on the ground that she was an actress. But, as the lapse of a 
 century leaves but little to be desired on the score of religious 
 liberty in France, I will return to my comparison between the 
 results of the economy of the Protestants and the prodigality of 
 the Catholics in their sacred edifices. Boston, with its one hun- 
 dred thousand inhabitants, has more churches than Paris with 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 89 
 
 its one million, and all of its churches combined have not cost 
 more than one half the sum spent on the Pantheon alone. Con- 
 sider the different results ! The Pantheon exists as a proud 
 monument of national architecture ; lifeless as its own naked 
 vaults ; useful only thus far in demonstrating from its dome, by 
 means of the pendulum, the rotary motion of the earth. Yet 
 not useless as a w^arning souvenir through all time, of the folly 
 of reason placing itself above revealed religion. It was here 
 that took place the apotheosis of Marat, under the auspices of 
 the painter David. The heart of this monster was inclosed in 
 an agate vase, and placed upon a civic altar. The high priest 
 of reason, dressed in red, recited the following apostrophe : — " Oh 
 heart of Marat I sacred heart and adorable bowel I hast thou not 
 as much right to the religious homage of the affranchised French, 
 as the heart of Jesus had formerly to the adoration of the fanat- 
 ical Nazarenes ? The labors and philanthropy of the son of 
 Mary, can they be compared to those of the friend of the people 
 and his apostles, to the Jacobins of our holy Montague — the 
 pharisees to the aristocrats, and the publicans to the bankers? 
 Their Jesus was only a prophet, and Marat is a God. Live the 
 heart of Marat — but what say I ? It has become cold dust — 
 Marat I" Such was the substitute reason offered for " Glory 
 to God in the highest, and on earth peace and good-will to man- 
 kind." 
 
 Who can correctly estimate the extent of the religious influ- 
 ences of the Christian churches of Boston ! Destroy them and 
 substitute a Pantheon, and the void would be felt in the moral 
 reaction, not only throughout New England, but from one end 
 of the Union to the other. The religious education of the 
 Americans is at the bottom of their republicanism. Pantheons, 
 Madeleines, and a ceremonial heirarchy may gratify the taste 
 of a people for magnificence, but they are a poor substitute for 
 the Bread of Life. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 RELIGIOUS EDUCATION. 
 
 There are no Roman Catholic Sunday Schools. The near- 
 est approach to them is that, during four months of the year, 
 children of twelve or thirteen, are expected to pass an hour each 
 Sunday in the church to be instructed in their catechism, which 
 teaches them there is no salvation out of the pale of their creed. 
 
 I have before me the " Alphabet Chretien, ou Reglement 
 pour les Enfans a I'llsage des Ecoles Chretiennes," a little book 
 from which the children of France are taught the first principles 
 of religion. The following extracts, turned into English, will 
 show to Protestant parents the points of difference between this 
 and the catechisms they place in the hands of their children. 
 The confession of sins reads thus : "I confess to God all power- 
 ful, the very happy Mary, always virgin, to St. Michael Arch- 
 angel, to St. John Baptist, to the Apostles St. Peter and St. 
 Paul, to all the saints, and to you, my Father, that I have 
 greatly sinned, by thoughts, words, actions, and by omissions ; 
 it is my fault ; it is my fault ; it is my very great fault. It is 
 why I pray the very happy Mary, always virgin, St. Michael 
 Archangel, St. John Baptist, the Apostles St. Peter, St. Paul, 
 all the saints, and you, my Father, to pray for me, to the Lord, 
 our God." Confession and communion are enjoined at least 
 once a year. Two years' study at the catechism is required, 
 previous to the first communion. The young girls dress all in 
 white at this sacrament. The reason given for the invocation 
 of the saints, is, " because they can greatly aid us by their inter- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 91 
 
 cession." Children are advised, whenever they drink, " to pro- 
 nounce inM^ardly the holy name of Jesus ;" " every time you 
 name or hear named Jesus or Mary, you should make a respect- 
 ful inclination ;" " when you pass before any cross or any image 
 of the Lord, or of the very Holy Virgin, or of the Saints, make 
 a respectful how." The Act of Faith, reads, " My God, I be- 
 lieve firmly all that the holy Catholic, Apostolic, and Roman 
 Church orders me to believe." " Outside of the church there is 
 no safety. Thus all those who do not belong to the church or 
 do not obey it, will be damned. The church is composed of the 
 Saints who are in heaven, the souls which are in purgatory, and 
 the Faithful Avho are on earth ; we participate in the merits of 
 the Saints and the Faithful, and we can solace the souls in pur- 
 gatory by our prayers and by our good works." " All these 
 truths are included in the Creed of the Apostles. I believe them 
 firmly not only upon the word of the men who announce them, 
 but because they are revealed of God himself and taught by the 
 church, which is infallible. The church is the Catholic, Apos- 
 tolic and Roman. It is necessary to obey those who have the 
 government by the authority of Jesus Christ ; these are the 
 Bishops, and especially our Holy Father, the Pope, who, as 
 chief successor of St. Peter and Vicar of Jesus Christ, has au- 
 thority over all the Faithful." 
 
 " The Eucharist is the most august of all the Sacraments, 
 because it contains Jesus Christ all entire, true God and true 
 man, his body and his blood, his soul, his divinity ; at the Mass, 
 by the words of the consecration that the Priest pronounces, the 
 substance of the bread and the wine is changed to the body of 
 Jesus Christ, and there remains only of it the appearances. 
 Thus, when the Holy Sacrament is exposed upon the Altar, or 
 when it is in the Tabernacle, it is Jesus Christ really present 
 that is adored ; and when we commune, it is Jesus Christ that 
 we receive to be the spiritual nourishment of the soul. It is not 
 
92 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 his image nor his form, as upon a cross ; but it is Jesus Christ 
 himself — that is to say, the Son of God, the same Jesus Christ 
 who is born of the very Holy Virgin Mary, who is dead for us 
 upon the cross, who is raised, ascended to heaven — who is as 
 really in the Holy Host, as in heaven." 
 
 Here in a nutshell are the contested points of faith between 
 the Catholics and Protestants. I quote them because prejudice 
 too often throws the controversialist wide from truth, especially 
 where, as in the Roman Catholic Church, ceremonies and splen- 
 dor are apt to vail the simple truths which lie at the bottom. 
 With these exceptions, there is nothing perhaps which any Trin- 
 itarian would not subscribe to, in the " Alphabet Chretien," 
 which contains all " it is necessary to know, believe and practice 
 to be saved." In passing judgment upon the religion of a nation, 
 it is of the first importance to know what it believes. Outward 
 observances have their origin in other causes beside faith. They 
 often spring from, or are modified by necessity, expediency, or 
 the prejudices or the genius of a people. 
 
 In its infancy, Christianity, true to the principles of its Founder 
 struggled with paganism, until, by the blood of martyrs, its 
 eternal truths found their way to the throne of the Roman 
 Empire. Then, assuming the form of Papacy, it welcomed to 
 its arms Pagan Europe. Instead of a pure and rigid faith, it 
 became an inflexible creed and mighty ceremonial. Paganism, 
 but half weaned from its errors, was received into its bosom. 
 The unnatural embrace has left its traces even upon this age, in 
 ceremonies and fetes which have their origin far into remote 
 heathenism, and in a deference to usages which, if the church 
 refuses to sanction, its policy permits. Catholicism, corrupted 
 by its victories, but relentless in its animosities, has been obliged 
 to renew its strength at different epochs of its history, by a par- 
 tial plunge in the pure spring whence it arose, rewarding those 
 who would wash it clean, with ignominy and death. At the 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 93 
 
 present time, the Catholic Church of France is the most enlight- 
 ened and sincere of Europe. In its day of strength it dealt exile 
 and death to reformers. Battening on its spoils, it experienced 
 the fate of all powers that permit inglorious ease to succeed the 
 virtues that were their earliest nurture, and became sensual and 
 corrupt. Then, indignant humanity gave birth to a philosophy 
 which, while in its cradle, well-nigh strangled the Church of 
 Rome. This philosophy, flashing its uncertain light for a mo- 
 ment over France, drove Catholicism in afliright from its territory. 
 But born of man and owning no divinity except reason, it lacked 
 soil to sustain its growth. The Roman Church, strong in the 
 contests and victories of fifteen centuries, stronger yet in having 
 its foundations in the most sacred principles of the human heart, 
 principles coeval with Adam, has returned to its post strengthen- 
 ed and improved. How much more powerful for good it would 
 be if its reforms were not always begotten of necessities ! Until 
 the work of its own purification is accomplished, the ritual re- 
 duced to its primitive simplicity, and the creed to the standard 
 of its origin, the church will continue to be false to itself and to 
 its laission. 
 
 France is nominally Catholic, but indifi^erence or deism are the 
 prevailing sentiments. This, or ignorance, must ever be the case, 
 while the wealth of a church is chiefly expended in fostering the 
 arts, and the labors of the clergy wasted in a ceremonial worship. 
 
 I do not desire by these remarks to give offense to any con- 
 science. But that I am correct in the opinion that the eflbrts 
 of the Catholic clergy are more directed to gratify the senses, 
 than to purify the heart, those who examine their churches and 
 witness their festivals will not deny. The people, educated to 
 this show, estimate a church in proportion to its wealth and 
 ornaments. The greater the attraction for the eye, the larger 
 the congregation. St. Roch, during the recent fete of the Very 
 Holy Sacrament, has been crowded with spectators to witness 
 
94 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 the elaborate decorations of the high altar. With its countless can- 
 dles, rich velvet hangings, and profusion of flowers, it was indeed 
 a beautiful sight. The maidens clothed and vailed in white, 
 bowing in adoration before the sacred symbols, added greatly to 
 the effect. But that nothing be wanting to perfect the spectacle, 
 music, that is renowned even in Paris, lends its strains. The 
 leader of the choir, Alexis Dupont, has a salary of 10,000 francs. 
 Some came to pray ; many because it is the rule of the church ; 
 but the mass, as spectators. For my own part, setting aside the 
 respect due to all houses of worship, I should be perplexed to 
 decide whether High Mass at the Madeleine or an Opera gives 
 ijie the most pleasure. In either case, the eye and ear are 
 ravished by the combinations of external beauty with the har- 
 mony of sound and the grace of action. Where early training 
 has made this an indispensable accompaniment of religion, the 
 heart, perhaps, is enabled through all this sensual crust to reach 
 Him who is to be worshiped in spirit and in truth. But that 
 the clerg}^ here find it politic to add to even these attractions, is 
 evident from a notice I read in the Madeleine on the occasion of 
 the fete above mentioned, promising plenary indulgence to all 
 who would join in the solemn procession, and stating, as the ex- 
 hibition of the Very Holy Sacrament required a more brilliant 
 light, the members of the parish were requested to contribute to 
 its expense. 
 
 The Bible is a rare book in France, and works on religion and 
 moral education, so common in the United States, comparatively 
 unknown. The writings, however, of Voltaire, Rousseau, and 
 Volney, are to be met every where and in every variety of 
 editions. I speak from a careful inspection of the bookstores 
 and stalls of Paris. French literature is prolific in works of 
 science, wit, and amusement ; in journalism and memoirs it is 
 imexcelled ; but the Abbotts for youth and Taylors for adults 
 are yet to arise. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FUENCH PRINCIPLES. 95 
 
 Chateaubriand, Lamartiiic, and other writers of their stamp, 
 who have treated of rehgious topics, have attempted rather to 
 poetize and refine upon the spiritual sentiments than to place 
 before their readers religious truth practically applied to the 
 actual character and condition of man. The cause of this lies 
 undoubtedly in one of the elements of French character. They 
 aim to decorate what they touch. They possess a keen sense of 
 the beautiful in art, and the nicest relish for what the English 
 tongue has no synonym, the " spirituelle," whether in conversa- 
 tion or literature. The term "spirituelle," can only be defined 
 as the fragrance of the mind — an incorporeal essence felt, but 
 not to be grasped ; a flashing of an idea like the glimpse of an 
 angel's wings, or the perpetually recurring brilliancy of the fire- 
 fly, sparkling a new beauty before the last has dimmed on the 
 sight, or it can be told whence it was or whither it has gone. 
 
 There is another element, in which wit and irreligion are 
 equally blended. It justifies the common saying, that a French- 
 man fears neither God, man, nor the devil. At all events, he 
 had rather fail in his respect for the first than to lose his point. 
 What other nation would have dramatized the Fall of Man ? It 
 is not two years and a half since there was brought out at the 
 Vaudeville a piece called " La Propriete c'est un Vol." — (Property 
 is a Robbery.) The scene is laid in the Garden of Eden. Satan is- 
 tempting Eve to pluck and eat from the prohibited trees, on which 
 is the "afliche" or notice "it is forbidden to take this fruit." 
 Eve says to Satan, " Do you not see that I am commanded to let 
 it alone ?" " Eat," he replies, " and you will possess and know 
 every thing." Eve, at these words, rushes up to the tree, and 
 plucks the fruit, exclaiming, " Je m'en fiche de I'afflche " — equiv- 
 alent to, I do not care a fig, or something more profane, for 
 the notice. The wit Ues in the pun, which is not to be turned 
 into our tongue. Soon after a celestial voice is heard, ordering 
 Adam and Eve to leave the garden. They run ofT, snatching 
 
96 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 more of the apples as they go. The new and magnificent Opera 
 of the " Wandering Jew " represents the Day of Judgment, raising 
 of the dead from their graves, and heaven and hell, with the fiends 
 tormenting the damned ; all got up on a most effective scale. 
 
 A French engraving depicts the Devil poking over the earth 
 with a stick, stirring up all manner of trouble, while the Almighty, 
 in the shape of an old man with a white cotton cap on his head, 
 is watching him through a spy-glass. 
 
 When the government shut up the cemetery of Saint Medard, 
 on account of the pretended miracles of the Jansenists at the 
 tomb of the Deacon Paris, a wag placed upon the door this verse • 
 
 " De par le roi, defense a Dieu 
 De faire miracle en ce lieu." 
 
 In plain English, The king forbids God to work any miracle m 
 this place. 
 
 In the Rue St. Jacques there formerly existed a chapel of Saint 
 Yves, the patron saint of lawyers, though on what grounds he at- 
 tained this honor, has not been discovered. Our authority says, 
 that the lawyers, without pretending to imitate his disinterested- 
 ness, and without being ambitious of the honors of the kingdom 
 of heaven, contented themselves very humbly with the goods of 
 this world. He contrives maliciously to add, that when Saint 
 Yves presented himselfat the gates of Paradise, St. Peter repulsed 
 him, confounding him with the rest of his profession. The Saint 
 hid himself in the crowd, and managed to slip in. Being recog- 
 nized, St. Peter wished to drive him out, but he resisted and said 
 he would not leave until he had been notified so to do by an 
 " huissier" (door-keeper in French courts of law). St. Peter was 
 embarrassed, and searched every where for one, but as one had 
 never entered Paradise his search was in vain, and St. Yves re- 
 mained among the elect, to the great confusion of St. Peter. 
 
 The Egyptian Saint Mary had a chapel in the Hue Montmar- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 97 
 
 tre, the stained glass windows of which represented the events 
 of her life. One of these was not of the most exemplary charac- 
 ter. Beneath, it bore this inscription, " Comment la Sainte offrit 
 son corps au batelier pour son passage" (how the Saint offered 
 her body to the boatman for her passage). By what process can- 
 onization was derived from this event, history fails to inform us. 
 By a chance sufficiently bizarre, Madame Dubarry, after the 
 death of Louis XV., lived for several years close by this chapel. 
 
 Among the fancy names given the shops, there is one in the 
 Rue St. Honore, called " The Infant Jesus," and another in the 
 Rue St. Jacques, named " The Sacrifice of Abraham," and in 
 the Rue de I'Echelle a dram shop veiy appropriately termed 
 •' Fountain of the Devil." 
 
 The irreverence of Frenchmen is not a plant of modern growth. 
 When Cardinal Dubois announced to Louis XIV. the death of 
 his brother, the Duke of Orleans, the monarch piously exclaimed, 
 " I hope my poor brother is in paradise." " Sire," replied Bon- 
 temps, "Dieu regarde a deux fois pour condamner des princes," 
 " God looks twice before he damns a prince." 
 
 Cariiille Desmoulins, when asked his age by the revolutionary 
 tribunal, answered, " Of the same age as that "sans culotte " 
 Jesus Christ when he died." 
 
 Visiting one evening a friend in the Faubourg St. Germain, 
 
 the Count De , in describing the crowd at the Madeleine 
 
 to hear the Father Lacordaire's Christmas sermon, said he was 
 obliged to stand over the " Grille " (furnace bars) where he was 
 roasted, and he had directly in front a chandelier that put his 
 eyes out. " Ah I" exclaimed Baron, "your legs were roast- 
 ing in hell while your eyes were being dazzled by the bright- 
 ness of heaven." 
 
 These gentlemen were of the old noblesse, distinguished at 
 the court of Charles X., and stanch Catholics. I quote the jeu 
 d'esprit, which it is impossible to do justice to in English, to show 
 
 E 
 
98 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 that the temptation to this spirit of wit is as irresistible to the 
 higher classes as the lower. A successful bon mot on any sub- 
 ject establishes a reputation. Earthly powers fare no better than 
 heavenly. A bystander lately remarked in witnessing the eras- 
 ure by order of the President of the words, " Liberte, Egalite, 
 Fraternite," from the national buildings, that he supposed they 
 were to be replaced by " Cavalerie, Infanterie, Artillerie." 
 
 The churches themselves have witnessed so many incongruous 
 spectacles before their shrines within the last three-quarters of a 
 century, that the prestige of their sanctity must be greatly weak- 
 ened in the hearts of the present generation. "Witness the Pan- 
 theon, from the worship of the true God changed to a monument 
 of the deification of man ; polluted by being made the sepulchre 
 of Marat, whose remains, soon 3ihei, depantheonizedhj the ssune 
 authority that glorified them, found a more appropriate receptacle 
 in a common-sewer in the E,ue Montmartre. This church, the 
 last survivor of the Temples of Reason, has been lately restored, 
 by order of the President, to the Catholic clergy. During the 
 first revolution the beautiful edifice of St. Sulpice became the 
 Temple of Victory and the place of assembly for the theophilan- 
 thropists. In 1799, its sacred walls looked down upon a banquet 
 given to Bonaparte. In 1831, Notre Dame and St. Germain I'Aux- 
 errois were sacked by one of the tornado mobs, in which Paris has 
 been so fruitful. In consequence, the latter remained closed for 
 seven years. Were I a Frenchman, I should have wished that 
 every vestige of it had been swept from the earth ; for while it 
 remains, its sinister-looking walls must remind every stranger of 
 the darkest crime with which history is stained. Its belfry 
 gave the signal on the eve of the fete of St. Barthelemi for the 
 appalling massacre that deluged France in blood, and its bells 
 continued to toll during the whole of that awful night. I never 
 pass it without an involuntary shudder. In the vicinity, until 
 within a few weeks, could be seen the hotel in which Admiral 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 99 
 
 Coligny was murdered. It has been taken down to enlarge the 
 street. 
 
 The Marquis de la Grange, in his " Memoires de la Force," 
 gives the relation of the miraculous escape on that night of the 
 youngest of that family as told by himself. " The father walked 
 first, the eldest son next, and the youngest in the rear. Having 
 arrived at the end of the Rue des Petits Champs, near the ram- 
 part, the soldiers cried, Kill I kill I They first stabbed the eldest 
 boy, who in falling, cried, Ah I my God. I am dead I The 
 father, turning toward his son, was also stabbed ; the youngest 
 covered with blood, but who, by a miracle, had not been wound- 
 ed, as if inspired by Heaven, cried out I am dead I at the same 
 time falling between his father and brother, who prostrate re- 
 ceived several more stabs, while he had not even his skin grazed. 
 God protected him so visibly, that when the murderers stripped 
 them all to their skin, they did not perceive that he had not even 
 a single wound. As they believed their work finished, they went 
 off, saying, they had done for the three. The young Caumont 
 remained naked as he was until toward four o'clock, when the 
 neighbors, attracted by curiosity, or to plunder what the butchers 
 might have left, examined the corpses. A tennis-marker, of the 
 Rue Verdelet, wishing to take a linen stocking which still re- 
 mained on one leg, turned him over, as his face was toward the 
 earth, and seeing him so young, said to himself, Alas I it is only 
 a poor child. Is not this a great wrong ? What evil can he 
 have done ? Caumont hearing this, gently raised his head and 
 said in a whisper, ' I am not dead, I beg you to save my life.' 
 The marker immediately put his hand on his head and said, Do 
 not move — they are still about here. He then walked about 
 for a little time and returned and told him to rise, for they were 
 gone. He threw over his shoulders a filthy cloak and feigning 
 to strike him, he made him walk before him. Who have you 
 there ? asked his neighbors. It is my nephew who is drunk, 
 
100 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 and I shall whip him soundly, replied the marker. In this way- 
 he got him safely to his house." 
 
 A gentleman who resides in the quarter referred to, related to 
 me the following incident, as showing the relative effects upon 
 the value of property in Paris, by the erection of theatres or 
 churches. 
 
 The government some years since, wishing to improve the 
 vacant land now comprising one of the finest and most populous 
 quarters of the city, proposed erecting churches thereon, to at- 
 tract to it other enterprises. It was represented to them that to 
 build churches would defeat their project, but if theatres were 
 substituted, there would be no doubt of a favorable result. Sev- 
 eral were soon built, and it has in consequence grown into the 
 present magnificent Boulevard du Temple. The friend who 
 told me this is so sensitive a Catholic, that he declined reading 
 a history of the Popes, for fear he should learn something to 
 lessen his good opinion of the heads of his church, "For," said 
 he, " it is better not to know than to hate." 
 
 The Catholics condemn servile labor on Sunday, but admit 
 that which appertains to the mind and amusements. The 
 result in Paris, is, that about a third of the shops are closed on 
 that day, and the Parisian world devotes itself to pleasure. Of 
 late the Minister of the Interior has discountenanced labor on 
 the public works on Sunday ; but it is common for workmen to 
 be employed on private enterprises. 
 
 On this day Paris disgorges its population upon the Boulevards, 
 the Champs Elysees, Bois du Boulogne, public gardens, and 
 museums. The throng is interminable, but a more orderly, hap- 
 pier looking and better dressed crowd is nowhere to be seen. 
 The working faubourgs send their population outside the barrier. 
 In fine weather the Champs Elysees present the appearance 
 of a fair. Every species of jugglery, Punch and Judy, concerts 
 and dog shows, booths, games, and mountebank tricks are in full 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 101 
 
 *fci-,r!^'5MS)t^ 
 
 CHAMPS ELYSEES. — FETE SUNDAY 
 
 blast, and each becomes the centre of a curious circle. The roll 
 of carriages and pleasure vehicles is incessant. Paris dines "en 
 ville," or in other words, as pleasure is a part of a Frenchman's 
 creed and he is fond of good eating, he dines on that day with 
 his family or friends at a restaurant, takes his coffee and brandy 
 in the open air or on the sidewalk in front, and passes the even- 
 ing at some theatre or ball. However remiss he may be at mass, 
 this part of his religion is never neglected. 
 
 The government encourage this mode of its observance by 
 selecting it for grand reviews, races, launches, and whatever can 
 add to the already seemingly superabundant sources of amuse- 
 ment. The grand waters at St. Cloud and Versailles play on 
 Sunday, and the throng of people on the excursion trains of the 
 
102 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 railways is immense. Sunday is taken literally in the sense of 
 a day of rest from ordinary work ; consequently a day of liberty 
 for what otherwise the necessary labors of the remaining six 
 might derange. The elections are then held, but, what appears 
 most questionable, Sunday, the 16th of November last, was 
 selected for the great lottery of " I'ingot d'or." The question of 
 the moral effect of lotteries has of late been agitated here, but it 
 did not prevent, in this, the sale of seven million tickets at one 
 franc each, indeed most of them at a premium, though the chances 
 were but one prize to thirty one thousand two hundred and fifty 
 blanks. The government by this operation pocketed about five 
 million francs, destined, as it was said, to send emigrants to 
 California. The attraction was the grand prize of four hun- 
 dred thousand francs. A chamber-maid, I was told, held fif- 
 teen hundred tickets, being her entire savings. They all proved 
 blanks. 
 
 A Frenchman is as conscientious in defending his manner of 
 lieeping the Sabbath as an American would be in condemning 
 it, though there are some, even Catholics, who agree with the 
 latter. Education makes the difference. As the highest author- 
 ity has declared Sunday was made for man, the surest way to 
 test the relative merits of the two systems is by the effects on 
 national character. The balance of physical happiness, and the 
 enjoyment of the senses in works of art, would seem to be in fa- 
 vor of France ; but in the acquisition of religious instruction and 
 the strengthening of moral principles, the graver course of the 
 United States stands out in strong relief. The former renders 
 the individual more joyous because less thoughtful — the latter 
 more thoughtful and less joyous. The first, like their own cham- 
 pagne, sparkles, exhilarates and is gone ; the last, a solid aliment 
 for the soul, nourishes strength for the hour of trial. A happy 
 combination of the two would temper the one and adorn the 
 other. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FEENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 103 
 
 MASS AT EIGHT CLOCK. 
 
 The Protestants of the United States can learn two useful les- 
 sons from the Catholics of France, in the arrangement of seals 
 in the churches, and the manner of preaching. Pews are un- 
 known. In lieu of the luxuriously cush- 
 ioned stalls of the United States, with 
 their elbow-rests and every convenience 
 for an easy posture, which, by the way, 
 causes more than one half the somnolency 
 to be witnessed in our churches, they use 
 the simplest kind of chairs. The privilege 
 of supplying these chairs is let out annu- 
 ally by the church, generally to women, 
 who charge each service one sous apiece 
 for those outside of the nave and two for 
 those within. 
 
 The moral advantages of these chairs are more than at first 
 
 glance would be supposed. 
 They preserve that equality 
 before God tvithin the church 
 wliich is as active a principle 
 of the Catholic faith as it is 
 dead in the Protestant. Prince 
 and peasant, Caucasian and 
 African, side by side ofier their 
 orisons to their common Father. 
 Never by glance or gesture 
 have I seen aught to disturb 
 this idea of human brother- 
 hood, and I have repeatedly 
 beheld the blouse kneeling by 
 the noble, the femme de cliam- 
 bre with her snow-white cap and apron brushing the satin of 
 a duchess, and the coal-black negro beside the exquisite of 
 
 MA.SS AT ONE O'CLOCK 
 
104 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 the Boulevard. All is republicanism and harmony within the 
 church. Picture the sensation in any of our Trinity's, St. George's 
 or Grace's, should any of the humbler members of society find 
 their way into the pews of these churches. No American 
 would construe wrongly the remarks and looks which would 
 be directed by the proprietors of these pharisaical partitions 
 toward those who came thus between the wind and their nobility. 
 Pews beget exclusiveness, strengthen artificial distinctions, de- 
 prive many of a place of worship, from their expensiveness, and 
 make religion with a popular preacher a dear bought luxury. 
 Abohsh them, and the equality in law becomes equality in the 
 house of God. Those who object to the mixture as it is termed, 
 have the example of the highest and most refined of Europe. 
 Whoever saw a maid go to church with her mistress in the Uni- 
 ted States ? In France it is a constant practice. A preacher 
 who expects humility to effect an entrance into a church divided 
 into sumptuous and exclusive compartments, the doors of which 
 none can enter but those who count their incomes by thousands, 
 shows himself deficient in knowledge of human nature. Such 
 churches are moral Japans, into which Christians at large 
 can not enter. Replace pews by chairs, and each church can 
 accommodate twice as many hearers as at present. There 
 would be no sleepers. I have never seen a slumberer in a 
 French church. 
 
 The average of attention and external devotion is in favor of 
 the French congregations, whether Catholic or Protestant. Both 
 •use chairs, and in both the preachers deliver their discourses 
 without notes. They preach and do not read to their hearers. 
 This of itself is Mddely in favor of arresting and fixing the at- 
 tention. Is it inferiority of talent or education, that prevents our 
 pastors from imitating the example of the apostles in this re- 
 spect ? Clergymen or laymen would blush to acknowledge this 
 Jact. French sermons are rarely less than an hour longr, and 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 105 
 
 are delivered extempore with more ease than is usual with 
 American clergymen who read their essays. Those that I have 
 heard, have been in general on the practical duties or common 
 elements of the Christian faith, delivered with an earnestness 
 that bespoke self-conviction of divine truth. 
 
 The " Confessional" is a tender point with the Catholics of 
 France. The most devotional classes are the highest and lowest 
 — the well-bred and highly educated legitimists and the igno- 
 rant but honest peasantry. Both these extremes of society may 
 be said to be attentive to the requirements of the church. The 
 great mass of irreligion lies rather between them. Husbands 
 frequently forbid their wives to confess. Those who do, go but 
 seldom, perhaps but twice a year. I was greatly amused at 
 the naivete with which a young lady related to me her experi- 
 ence. She had selected for her confessor a pious but somewhat 
 indulgent cure, whose humor was often more apparent than 
 his severity. " My daughter," said he to her, after she had dis- 
 burdened her conscience of a load of trifling omissions and com- 
 missions "have you no other sins — little sins — reflect and an- 
 swer." " Yes," said she, "I have overlooked one — pardon me — 
 I will confess the whole. I was walking with my maid along 
 the quay and I heard a noise in the water. I looked and saw 
 a number of young men swimming." " What did you do ?" ** I 
 put my hand over my eyes," but, said she to me, I did not tell 
 him I could see through my fingers. " Ah I beware of idle 
 curiosity, my daughter, it will lead you to evil." "But I could 
 not help seeing them." "What where your thoughts?" "No- 
 thing bad, my father, I assure you." "Be sure now, have you 
 no other secret sins ; you come very seldom to confession — 1 
 am fearful your memory is treacherous." " No, father, nothing 
 more than looking at these boys in the water, which you know 
 I could not help. I was so curious to see what was making 
 such a splash." " Well my child you must repeat three Pater- 
 
106 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 Nosters and Ave Marias upon leaving the church, and go and 
 sin no more." 
 
 The Calvinists possess four churches and chapels, at which 
 seven pastors preach in rotation. The celebrated M. Coquerel, 
 and his scarcely less eloquent son, are among them. Theii 
 largest church is the ancient Oratoire, Rue St. Honore, ceded to 
 their confession in 1802. It has been adapted as far as possible 
 to the simplicity of worship of the present occupants, but the 
 side-chapels converted into semi-galleries, give it a very awk- 
 ward appearance. M. Coquerel was a member of the late Legis- 
 lative Assembly, elected jointly by Catholics and Protestants — 
 the former having confidence in his politics, though detesting his 
 religious principles as a seceder from their ranks. It is a striking 
 proof of the perfect equality in the eye of the law of all sects in 
 France, that in 1848, M. Cremieux, a Jew, was appointed Min- 
 ister of Justice under the Provisional Government. There is no 
 charge for chairs at the Lutheran and Calvinist churches, but 
 free will offerings for the poor are made at the doors. At the 
 Chapel of the English embassy the price is twenty cents a 
 seat. 
 
 Among the Catholics, the most celebrated preacher is the 
 Jesuit, Le Pere Ventura, who makes an annual visit from Rome 
 to preach during lent at Paris. On certain occasions, I am told, 
 he officiates only for men, and on others for women. The crowd 
 is so great, that even for the gigantic dimensions of Notre Dame 
 it is necessary to issue tickets of admission, and to have a military 
 guard to prevent accidents from the immense influx of hearers. 
 Once, preaching in this church to men alone, he chose for his 
 subject the diflerence between divine and human love. Such 
 was the power of his eloquence over his excitable auditors, that 
 they burst out repeatedly into lively applause. At last, he 
 stopped, and remarked, if an action so unbecoming the house of 
 God was repeated he should descend from the pulpit. Unable 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 107 
 
 to restrain themselves, his hearers again interrupted him. He 
 was as good as his word, and it was with the greatest difficulty 
 he could be prevailed to re-enter the pulpit and finish his dis- 
 course. In preaching a charity sermon to ladies only, he is said 
 to have so excited their sympathies, that they not only emptied 
 their purses, but stripped themselves of their jewels, and even 
 added their watches to the pile of offerings. 
 
 During the reign of Louis Philippe, another celebrated divine 
 commenced a series of discourses upon the vanity and luxury of 
 the sex. He made such an impression, that the ladies " en 
 masse" began to abandon their ornaments, to study simplicity 
 and economy in their dresses, forsake their dissipations, and 
 devote themselves to charitable works. To use a theatrical 
 phrase, his success was complete, and to be pious became a 
 furore. Such was the effect upon the traffic in luxuries on 
 which the merchants of Paris subsist, that they represented to 
 the Minister of the Interior that they were being ruined, and 
 that the commerce of the country was actually suffering, while 
 thousands of workmen were starving from want of employment. 
 He quietly sent for the reverend father and informed him, that 
 although he entertained the highest respect for his talents and 
 labors, and believed that vanity and luxury were in themselves 
 sins, yet they were the means of livelihood to a large portion of 
 his countrymen. Paris was also the dictatress of fashion to the 
 civilized world; if the ladies of the "ton" here simplified their 
 tastes and studied economy, ladies elsewhere would imitate them. 
 By this economy the most productive branches of French indus- 
 try would be ruined, for there would be no markets for the silks, 
 velvets, ribbons, and bijoux. He concluded by advising the 
 orator to travel, until time restored to the ladies their accus- 
 tomed tastes. 
 
 At present Le Pere Lacordaire, a Dominican of fifty years of 
 age, carries away the palm of clerical oratory. In 1822, he 
 
108 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 practiced law with success, and was a Voltarian and Deist. 
 Two years later he renounced his opinions, entered the Church 
 of St. Sulpice, and in 1837 went to Rome, where he took the 
 white habit of the order he now wears. His eloquence is 
 original, brilliant, vigorous, yet melting. His illustrations are 
 striking, and he speaks straightforward to his point. I will 
 give a few examples, weakened necessarily by being render- 
 ed into English, and unaccompanied by his impressive tone 
 and gesture : — " The role of an apostle," says he, " is in effect 
 to convert the infidels, the skeptics, of which in the nineteenth 
 century we are all more or less. The old serpent of error 
 changes his colors in the sun of each century. Thus, while in 
 the preaching of proper conduct to those of our own church, 
 we do but aim at diversity of style to impress the matter more 
 fully on their hearts and imaginations, it is necessary that 
 instructive and controversial preaching, pliant as the igno- 
 rance it would elevate, subtle as the error it would pierce, 
 should imitate their powerful versatility, and combat them 
 with never-yielding weapons constantly renewed in the Armory 
 of Truth." 
 
 In a funeral oration pronounced upon General Drouot, he gave 
 utterance to the following patriotic apostrophe : " All at once, 
 even from the heart of the country, there arose a prodigious cry ; 
 the descendant of Cyrus and of Csesar, the master of the world, 
 had fled before his enemies ; the eagles of the empire returned 
 in full flight from the bloody banks of the Dnieper and the Vis- 
 tula, and folded their wings upon their native soil to defend it 
 from its foes, astonished to clutch in their powerful talons victo- 
 ries which won for them only death. God, but God alone, had 
 vanquished France, commanded even to the last by genius, and 
 triumphant still to the moment that witnessed her fall. I shall 
 say nothing upon the causes of this catastrophe. Not only do 
 they not belong to my subject, but it is repugnant to a true 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 109 
 
 son to probe so deeply his country's wounds ; and he willingly 
 leaves to time alone the care of demonstrating the lessons hidden 
 by God in the depths of misfortunes." 
 
 The following, from the same oration, is a picture of domestic 
 life, which goes directly to the heart. Speaking of the General, 
 he says : " Issue of the people by Christian parents, he early 
 saw in the paternal mansion a spectacle which left him neither 
 envy of another lot, nor regret for a higher birth ; he witnessed 
 order, peace, contentment ; a benevolence which knew how to 
 share its resources with the poor ; a faith which, in acknowledg- 
 ing every thing as from God, elevated almost to him its sim- 
 plicity, generosity and nobleness of soul ; and he learned from 
 the joy he tasted himself in the bosom of a position by the world 
 judged so humble, that every thing becomes good for the man 
 who devotes his life to the work and grandeur of religion. Never 
 was the recollection of those cherished days of his youth effaced 
 from the memory of General Drouot ; in the glorious smoke of 
 battles, at the side even of the man who held all Europe's atten- 
 tion, his heart yearned toward the humble mansion that had 
 sheltered him, and the virtues of a father and mother which 
 were the happiness of his own infancy. Just before his death, 
 in comparing the several phases of his career, he wrote, ' I have 
 known true happiness only in the obscurity, innocence, and the 
 poverty of my early years.' " 
 
 After describing the youth of Drouot, the orator concludes 
 thus : " Such was the childhood of which the memory pursued 
 the General, even amid the splendors of the Tuileries. You are 
 astonished, perhaps, at it ; you ask what charm was there in 
 all that? He has told you himself; it was the charm of ob- 
 scurity, innocence, and poverty. He grew under the triple guard 
 of these strong virtues ; he grew as a child of Sparta and of 
 Rome, or better and truer yet to say, he grew as a Christian 
 child, in whom the beauty of the natural, and the effusion of 
 
110 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 the divine grace formed a mysterious feast, which the heart, that 
 has once known it, can never forget." 
 
 The preaching of Lacordaire being too democratic for the taste 
 of Louis Napoleon, he has been politely exiled, or in other words, 
 it has been notified to him that he had better employ the com- 
 ing twelve months in visiting the convents of his order through- 
 out Europe. 
 
CHAPTER YL 
 
 SUPERIOR EDUCATION. 
 
 Whatever may be the deficiency of means for primary edu- 
 cation in France, in all that appertains to the superior branches 
 of knowledge, the government displays the most laudable zeal. 
 To individual talent every facility is provided, gratuitously when 
 necessary, to attain knowledge and skill in its particular branch. 
 Judging from the disproportion of the resources to the wants of 
 the population in primary instruction, and those afforded for the 
 successful prosecution of all studies connected with the arts and 
 sciences, one may be allowed the conclusion, that the govern- 
 ment, in education as well as in civil administration fosters the 
 principle of centralization. It prefers the more gratifying task 
 of educating eminent men, who may add to the literary and 
 scientific fame of the nation, to the humbler duty of bringing 
 elementary knowledge within the reach of every fireside. It 
 concentrates learning as it does power, making Paris the centre 
 of each ; the great heart through whose arteries runs the stream 
 of knowledge destined to enrich the mind of the world. This 
 system is in accordance with the natural love of distinction, 
 which cherishes the individual, that he may add to the glories 
 of France. The country is the idol to be gilded, and personal 
 vanity or ambition find their sweetest triumph in increasing that 
 lustre so dear to the hearts of all Frenchmen. 
 
 France has worthily earned her high position in the perfection 
 of arts and sciences, by the encouragement and facilities which 
 
112 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 she furnishes to students of all nations. Her liberality is of no 
 selfish character. She aspires to be the Minerva of nations, and 
 reaps her reward in the tacit acknowledgment of her claim, by 
 the multitudes that flock to her shrines of learning, or light their 
 lamps at her altars. Toward genius France is thoroughly dem- 
 ocratic. No where is intellectual worth more ardently welcomed 
 and more richly rewarded. Its source is not questioned ; merit 
 is the sole criterion. The consequence is, that, in every depart- 
 ment of knowledge, she has an accumulation of experienced and 
 cultivated intellect, ready to serve her in those points which 
 render a nation illustrious in the eyes of mankind. 
 
 Kingdom, empire, or republic, France has cherished learning. 
 In her legacies from Louis XIV., she has not much cause of con- 
 gratulation, but the encouragement he bestowed upon men of 
 letters, placed talent in its true position. Francis I. paid a 
 homage to learned industry, worthy of its appropriate position in 
 the scale of humanity, when, in visiting the printing-office of 
 Robert Estienne, he refused to disturb him, but waited quietly, 
 leaning upon an arm of the press, until Estienne had finished 
 correcting the proof upon which he was employed. This was at 
 an epoch, when his rival, Charles V., picked up for Titian the 
 pencil he had accidentally dropped. 
 
 In France the assistance or encouragement of merit proceeds 
 directly from the government. The Council General of the 
 Seine, in one of its late sittings, voted twelve hundred francs to 
 a young man named Desforges, to enable him to cultivate his 
 extraordinary mathematical talent. He is a stone-mason, and 
 although he does not know the common ci'phers of arithmetic, 
 he is able to perform intricate mental calculations. He first 
 attracted attention by some observations he made on the power 
 of a steam-engine employed in the repairs of the Pont Neuf, 
 which astonished the engineers, who called the attention of 
 several members of the Institute to the phenomenon. They were 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 113 
 
 equally astonished, and brought him at once to the notice of the 
 city government. 
 
 The President has lately sent ten thousand francs to the pro-' 
 fessor engaged in experimenting by means of the pendulum upon 
 the movement of the earth, as an encouragement to prosecute 
 his researches. He has also ofiered a re^^ard of fifty thousand 
 francs to the individual of any nation, who discovers the method 
 to make electricity available with economy to the various prac- 
 tical arts. The Institute of France, which is divided into five 
 academies, offers annually the following encouragements for the 
 various objects within its sphere of action. A prize of two thou- 
 sand francs for poetry or eloquence ; a prize for the best treatise 
 on public morals, and one for the most distinguished act of virtue 
 performed by a poor native of France ; ten thousand francs for 
 the best work on French history, and fifteen hundred francs 
 every second year to some deserving but indigent man of letters. 
 There are prizes varying from five hundred to three thousand 
 francs for the best treatises on medals, antiquities, statistics, 
 mechanics, experimental philosophy, discoveries in medicine or 
 surgery, and all matters of public utility, and for the best works 
 in the fine arts. The successful artists are sent at the expense 
 of the State to prosecute their education at Athens and Rome. 
 
 In the various scientific, literary, and superior schools of Paris, 
 there are between four and five thousand students. In 1851 
 there were thirteen hundred medical students, and two thousand 
 seven hundred and sixty nine students of law. The numbers of 
 the two latter vary materially from year to year. In 1844 there 
 were two thousand four hundred students of medicine, and three 
 thousand one hundred and forty-three of law. The professors of 
 these schools are paid by government. 
 
 Education is regulated by a " Supreme Council of Public In- 
 struction," composed of four dignitaries of the Catholic church, 
 two of the Protestant, one of the Jewish, three Counselors of 
 
114 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 State, three members of the Com't of Cassation, and three of the 
 Institute. These are all elected from their several colleagues. 
 Eight members are appointed by the President of the Kepublic, 
 from counselors, inspectors-general, or professors of faculties ; 
 and three from the heads of private establishments of instruc- 
 tion. This Council is presided over by the Minister of Public 
 Instruction. *" 
 
 It would be tedious to the reader to go through all the details 
 of a system, which, emanating from one supreme head, extends 
 its care to every department of public instruction. I will con- 
 fine myself to brief notices of a few only of the institutions and 
 collections which are placed by the government at the service 
 alike of all nations, for the advancement of art and knowledge, 
 not exclusively professional or scientific, merely observing that 
 the requirements at the examination of all regular students, are 
 of the most comprehensive and rigid character. 
 
 The National College of France has twenty-eight professors, 
 who give gratuitous lectures on the following topics : astrono- 
 my, mathematics, philosophy, medicine, chemistry, natural his- 
 tory, political economy, archseology, the Oriental tongues, natural, 
 comparative, and national law — history, classic literature, and 
 philosophy, French, the languages, and history of Europe gener- 
 ally. 
 
 The " Conservatoire des Arts et Metiers" is a National Muse- 
 um of machines, models, drawings, &c., connected with all 
 branches of industrial art, somewhat upon the plan of the Patent 
 
 * The President of the Republic, on the 9th of March, issued a decree, 
 doing away the elective principle in the Supreme Council, making all offi- 
 cers and professors connected with public instruction, dependent upon 
 himself for their situations, and removable at his pleasure. This is a step 
 beyond the Emperor, who, if he appointed them, allowed them to remain 
 during life. The decree calls this a provisional arrangement, until the 
 new law relating to public instruction can be perfected. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 115 
 
 Oilice at Washington. It is an extensive institution, and sup- 
 ports fourteen professorships for the gratuitous education of work- 
 men in mechanics, manufactures, and agriculture, by annual 
 courses of lectures. 
 
 The " Ecole des Mines" gives gratuitous lectures on geology 
 and mineralogy ; the school of modern Oriental languages has 
 nine professors, who gratuitously lecture on all matters connected 
 with Asiatic philology. The School of Fine Arts disseminates 
 knowledge on all topics within its sphere, by twenty professors, 
 besides yearly prizes, and an exceedingly interesting m.useum 
 of architecture, containing, among other objects, models in cork 
 or plaster, in the proportion of one to one hundred, of the Par- 
 thenon, Coliseum, Propyleine, Leaning Tower of Pisa, Hanging 
 Gardens of Semiramis, Baths of Augustus, the Amphitheatres 
 of Aries and Nimes, and the wonders of Egyptian art. The 
 western side of the Amphitheatre for the distribution of prizes, 
 is beautifully painted in oil by Delaroche, representing the most 
 celebrated artists of all nations, ancient and modern, assembled 
 for the bestowal of prizes, and presided over by Zeuxis, Phidias 
 and Apelles. It contains seventy-five figures of the size of life, 
 one of which, a lovely blonde on the left of the judges, is a por- 
 trait of Madame Delaroche. 
 
 Besides the institutions mentioned, there are free schools for 
 the instruction of artisans in drawing and building ; of young 
 women, in design — I mean the mechanical branch only — and for 
 music, declamation, and the education of civil engineers, directors 
 of manufactories, and application of the sciences generally 
 
 In July, 1850, the government created a Central Agronomical 
 Institute, or School of Agriculture, with nine chairs. Pupils of 
 all nations are received gratuitously ; and those of French origin, 
 if their circumstances require it, obtain pensions. The most 
 successful scholars are sent to travel abroad at the expense of 
 the State for three years. 
 
116 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 The National Museum of Natural History, better known as the 
 ** Jardin des Plantes," has a world-wide celebrity. Attached to 
 it are fifteen professors, who lecture gratuitously on every portion 
 and object of the wide domain of Nature, illustrating their sub' 
 jects by living specimens or collections in all departments of the 
 science, unrivaled in extent and methodization. 
 
 In the botanical department alone of this garden, there are 
 cultivated upward of twelve thousand species of plants ; in the 
 Cabinet of Comparative Anatomy there are fifteen thousand pre- 
 pared specimens, from the skeleton of the whale, to that of the 
 assassin of General Kleber, and every variety of the human species, 
 from giant to dwarf, down to the minutest vertebrated frame. 
 This collection was prepared by Cuvier, and is the most com- 
 plete in existence. 
 
 The number of mineralogical and geological specimens exceeds 
 sixty thousand ; and of dried plants, woods, fruits, and grains, 
 three hundred and sixty thousand. In the library there are 
 ninety portfolios of original designs, embracing more than six 
 thousand drawings, magnificently colored, and valued at four 
 hundred thousand dollars. The gallery of zoology contains more 
 than two hundred thousand specimens, arranged in progressive 
 order, from the apparently inanimate zoophite, through every link 
 in the animal kingdom, until it reaches its climax in man. 
 
 The menagerie forms a varied and extensive colony of animals, 
 birds, and reptiles, from the four quarters of the globe, arranged 
 with the nicest regard to their habits and comfort, and so dis- 
 posed as to make them feel as completely at home as any creat- 
 ures can be in confinement. Indeed, with the exception of the 
 more ferocious animals, which have a dejected and pining look, 
 they appear to be very happy. They would be ungrateful if 
 they were not ; for they are better housed and fed than one hun- 
 dred thousand human beings living within sound of the roar of 
 the forest king. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 117 
 
 The military man and the partisan of peace visit the Museum 
 of Artillery with very contradictory emotions ; the former looks 
 with interest and pleasure, upon more than four thousand speci- 
 mens of armor and weapons used in war, from the earliest ages, 
 down to the Vincennes carabine and Colt's revolver ; while the 
 latter shudders at the thought of the bloody work they have 
 done, and the unnecessary additions they have made to human 
 suffering, during their career of alternate victory and defeat. 
 They have not all been in actual use. The greater part are 
 only samples of the various instruments man has invented to 
 slay his fellow-man. They are sufficiently numerous and inge- 
 nious to leave the impression, that all are here except one — the 
 club used by the first murderer. 
 
 The firearms intended as a present by Napoleon for the Em- 
 peror of Morocco, are most richly set with diamonds and precious 
 stones, of very considerable value ; but looking as sadly out of 
 place as would Valenciennes lace around a mailed hand. Im- 
 prisoned in their glass cases, reflecting their brightness on cold 
 steel or rusty iron, they give rise to many a fervent wish for their 
 release from their unnatural imprisonment, from the fair, to 
 whom alone, by right of kindred beauty, they belong. 
 
 The suits of armor are exceedingly interesting in point of his- 
 tory or tradition. Thus we have a helmet that claims Attila for 
 its original owner ; another belonged to Abderama, whom Charles 
 Martel prevented from giving a succession of Moorish sovereigns 
 to France in 730, by slaying him, together with a hundred and 
 fifty thousand of his countrymen. The gallant Francis I. is to 
 "be seen on horseback as he rode on the fatal field of Pavia. 
 The miserable assassin of his subjects, Charles IX., with his 
 scarcely more worthy successor, appear as they appeared in life, 
 — in armor. The helmet, sword, and breast-plate of Henry IV. 
 are as battered and bruised as were at one time his fortunes ; and 
 the Duke of Mayenne looks more peaceable than he ever did 
 
118 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 alive. The greatest wonder of all, is how the knights who sur- 
 vived a field of battle, were able to survive the weight of their 
 armor, which cased horse and rider in a solid wall of steel from 
 head to foot, with holes for eyesight through which a mole could 
 scarce see and much less breathe. Gunpowder was a blessing to 
 the fighting trade in releasing them from the stillest and most 
 unwearoutable costume ever invented. I have always consid- 
 ered that the inventor of hats deserved impalement ; but he was 
 a humane wretch, compared with the diabolical fabricator of 
 a suit of mail, which, if it were any protection against being 
 stuck through, created a much more imminent danger of suffoca- 
 tion Indeed, history msniuates that in every rout there were 
 more of these doughty champions smothered than slain in fight. 
 Once down, they were unable to rise without help, and the un- 
 encumbered foot soldiers had nothing to do but to cut their 
 throats as they lay ; a deed which the fields of Crecy and Agin- 
 court attest they were nothing loath to perform. 
 
 If the contemplation of the iron garments of our warlike an- 
 cestors, left me no cause of regret in modern broadcloth, I found 
 no more cause to sigh after the " good old times," upon an ex- 
 amination into the domestic comforts of these said lords. In the 
 Hotel de Cluny, we have a fine specimen of one of the mansions 
 of the fifteenth century, restored by the government in furniture 
 and architecture to the standard of that period, and made a mu- 
 seum of interesting objects of the Middle Ages. Here the visitor 
 has an opportunity of drawing a practical comparison between 
 the kitchen and boudoir of a lady of the chivalrous court of 
 Francis, and the " cuisine" and " cabinet de toilette'' of the mod- 
 ern dame. The fire-places of the former have undergone a 
 wonderful contraction. Then there was no difficulty in roasting 
 an ox entire ; now they will scarcely accommodate a turkey. 
 My attention was attracted among the arms to what appeared to 
 be and really was an eight-chambered revolving pistol, con- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 119 
 
 structed precisely upon the principle of Colt's. The handle and 
 date showed that it had anticipated his two centuries. There 
 was another near it, of much more clumsy make, but intended 
 for the same amiable service. 
 
 Here is to be seen the famous but equivocal safe-guard, or 
 rather, lock-up of chastity, made for, if not worn by, Diana of 
 Poitiers, by order of Henry II. It is a curious relic of the curious 
 liabits of a curious age. As even the most modest visitors look 
 at it, at least sideways, I ttust there will be no indecorum in my 
 mentioning it. Human nature is unfortunately so innoculated 
 with curiosity, that there would be disappointment to hear of 
 this " exposition of manners" after having left the Museum with- 
 out obtaining a view of it. 
 
 If the glum guardians of this old mansion would permit it. one 
 could lie down in the very bed on which Francis I. as Duke of 
 Valois, had slept. It is profusely carved, and looks stiff and un- 
 inviting. Elaborate carving was the fashion of that day in all 
 furniture. The interior of articles had not raiuch to boast of in 
 way of finish, the expense and skill being lavished on the ex- 
 terior. There are several splendid specimens of carved ebony 
 buffets or wardrobes, that no work of like character now excels. 
 We have also Flemish tapestiy, beautifully wrought, with the 
 history of David and Bathsheba ; these personages and the whole 
 court of the royal harpist being in grand toilette of the time of 
 Louis XII. This is carrying the prophet's knowledge of coming 
 events into a province of which there is nothing in Scripture to 
 warrant that he was better informed than any of his contempo- 
 raries. However, this is less ridiculous than the vanity of a 
 certain French noble, who in a painting had his ancestors repre- 
 sented as among those who came to make offerings to the infant 
 Jesus. The Virgin Mary, suddenly recollecting their exalted 
 rank, says to them " Pray be covered." 
 
 On other tapestry, Henry IV. figures as Apollo, and his pious 
 
120 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES 
 
 mother, one of the few good as well as great names that her sex 
 has given to France, is metamorphosed into a nude Venus. 
 There is a great variety of the nameless and curious nicknacks 
 that constitute woman's delight in all ages, and without which 
 her *' etageres" would have no more value than firewood. The 
 Hotel de Cluny is a sort of semi-modern Pompeii — a connecting 
 link between the expiring luxury of Rome and the dawn of the 
 still more refined magnificence of France. 
 
 Under its foundations, and projecti-ng beyond them toward the 
 Rue de la Harpe, we come upon the oldest monument of Paris — 
 the remains of the palace of her Csesar kings. In it, Julian was 
 proclaimed emperor in 360. There is nothing remarkable in 
 what time has spared except its gloomy hall, which was former- 
 ly the frigidarium, or chamber of cold baths, and the still more 
 gloomy subterranean vaults beneath, w^hich formed the apart- 
 ments for warm baths. This relic is preserved with the utmost 
 care and veneration. "Why is it that nations are so exceedingly 
 anxious to be reminded of their age, while individuals wish to 
 keep it a^ far from their thoughts as possible ? 
 
 Paris is no less prolific in libraries than museums. In nine- 
 teen, open to the public, it numbers two millions three hundred 
 and eighty-two thousand books, and one hundred and thirty-four 
 thousand three hundred manuscripts. The library of Ste. Gene- 
 vieve, recently erected near the Pantheon, has its external walls 
 covered with the names of celebrated writers of all centuries, 
 from the earliest ages down. Among them I noticed that of 
 "Washington ; honored, probably, more as great and good, than 
 for literary fame. 
 
 The leviathan of libraries is the " Bibliotheque Nationale," 
 now deposited in the vast and prison-like hotel in the Rue Rich- 
 elieu, formerly occupied by Cardinal Mazarin. The census of 
 this library, like that of the world, is only taken by computation. 
 They guess, therefore, the number of books and pamphlets to be 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 121 
 
 one million four hundred thousand, and of manuscripts one hun- 
 dred and twenty-five thousand. The catalogue alone of these 
 last fills twenty-five volumes. The arrangement of the whole is 
 bad for facility of reference ; the most valuable or curious works 
 being lost in the common mass, so that, to find them, it is as 
 much a matter of chance as to meet an acquaintance among the 
 million souls that crowd the streets of Paris. There is also 
 danger from fire in their present locality. It has been under 
 consideration for a long time to erect an appropriate edifice else- 
 where, from the proceeds of the sale of the land now occupied, 
 which is valued at 2,400,000 francs. 
 
 I never wander through its cold and gloomy halls, cased from 
 floor to ceiling with long files of books, whose titles are almost 
 obliterated in the wear of ages, and whose bindings once gay are 
 now gray with time, without feeling that I am in an intellectual 
 catacomb — a veritable place of skulls, that, having done their 
 duty while living, arc now quietly laid on the shelf, without even 
 the hope which attends mortal remains, to rise again. This 
 then is the immortality of thought ! Millions of brains have 
 delved for fame, wearied their aching sense over midnight oil, 
 starved their bodies to feed their minds, laboring as no laborer 
 can, distracted with doubt, burning with hope, ambitious of a 
 name — and have found at last, in this cemetery of learning, a 
 few inches of shelf-room so elevated from living eyes, that, unlike 
 the epitaphs over their graves which stare at every passer, they 
 can neither be read nor seen. The ideas to which they gave 
 birth may exist, however, like coin in the outer world, passing 
 from hand to hand, recognising no master, but blessing alike 
 him who gives and him who receives. Ambition is a useful 
 stimulus, but he who seeks other reward than the self-conscious- 
 ness of rectitude, will find that he bites the apple of Sodom. 
 
 This library is replete with interest to the bibliomaniac and 
 antiquarian Here are preserved the parlifst spprimen of print- 
 
 F 
 
122 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FUENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 ing, which, in less than half a century, attained a beauty and 
 perfection that modern art scarcely rivals. The luxury and ex- 
 tent to which various governments have carried the editions of 
 works undertaken at their order, and limited to a few presenta- 
 tion copies, are surprising. In this respect France is wisely 
 munificent. Works of general utility or scientific and historic 
 value, which would not remunerate private enterprise, are printed 
 at the national printing-office at the expense of the government. 
 This establishment is on so liberal a scale, that when Pope Pius 
 VII. visited it, the Lord's Prayer was printed in one hundred and 
 fifty languages, bound and presented to him before he returned 
 to his carriage. 
 
 In the engraving department there are more than one million 
 three hundred thousand plates, including ninety thousand por- 
 traits and three hundred thousand maps and charts ; furnishing 
 a complete history of the art from its rude commencement to its 
 present perfection. 
 
 The cabinet of medals and coins numbers one hundred and fifty 
 thousand, many of which are exceedingly rare, and some unique. 
 The series of Roman and Greek medals is very complete, and ex- 
 hibits beautifully finished portraits of the most eminent rulers of 
 antiquity, including Alexander, the CsBsars, and earlier illustrious 
 men of the Roman republic. Here is preserved also, perhaps, 
 the oldest relic extant ; the remarkable oval black marble carved 
 with rude figures, underneath which is the inexplicable cunei- 
 form writing to which learning has as yet failed to find the key. 
 It was brought from the site of the Tower of Babel. 
 
 The collection of ancient and modern gems and cameos is very 
 full and valuable. The autographs are neither so numerous nor 
 interesting as those of the British Museum. Among them, how- 
 ever, we find Fenelon's original manuscript of Telemachus ; 
 writings of Galileo, letters of Racine, Moliere, Corneille, and 
 Voltaire ; the last wrote a remarkably good hand, fine and dis- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 123 
 
 tinct ; Henry IV., the fair Gabrielle, the repentant Valliere and 
 devout Maintenon ; and lastly, what will most attract American 
 curiosity, the famous note of Franklin to Madame Helvetius, in 
 which the impassable philosopher of more than threescore and 
 ten distanced French gallantry with its own weapons. It is too 
 good to be turned into English ; I copy it verbatim. 
 
 " M. Franklin n'oublie jamais aucune Partie ou M® Helvetius 
 doit etre. II croit memo que s'il engage d'aller a Paradis ce 
 matin, il ferait supplication d'etre permis de rester sur terre 
 jusqu'a une heure et demie, pour recevoir I'Embrassade qu'elle 
 a bienvolu lui promettre en la reunion chez M. Turgot." 
 
 Franklin was no favorite with the old noblesse. Louis XVI. 
 detested him, and, to express his dislike, sent one of his lady ad- 
 mirers a certain nameless domestic utensil of the purest Sevres, 
 in the bottom of which was his portrait and the well-known 
 motto, " Eripuit Cselo fulmen, sceptrumque tyrannis." 
 
 Madame de Crequey, whose hand was kissed by Louis XIV. 
 and who lived to receive the same homage from the Emperor 
 Napoleon, relates, that she was one day invited to meet the cel- 
 ebrated American at dinner, the post of honor next to him being 
 reserved for her. In her aristocratic eyes he was only a low and 
 disgusting republican. She says she revenged herself by not 
 speaking a word to him during the meal, but amused herself in 
 observing his manners. He had a brown coat, brown vest, 
 brown breeches, and "brown" hands. She was horrified in 
 observing him break several eggs into a glass, mix them up 
 with butter, pepper and salt, and eat the unsightly mess with a 
 spoon. 
 
 The sepulchre of Thoutmes III., after reposing in quiet at 
 Karnac for some thirty-five hundred years, has been removed to 
 the court-yard of the Bibliotheque Nationale, on the walls of 
 which the world of to-day may read the hieroglyphical tale of 
 the deeds of the ancestors of this Egyptian Pharaoh. Another 
 
124 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 room contains tlie famous zodiac of Dendarah, with which at one 
 period French philosophy frightened the Christian world by its 
 astronomical interpretations. If they had proved correct, they 
 would have given the lie to the Mosaic chronology. Happily 
 for believers, the stone of four thousand centuries was soon shown 
 to have the very juvenile age of but twenty. 
 
 PERSPECTIVE OK THE LOUVRE. 
 
 There yet remains the greatest Csesar of them all, — the 
 Louvre ; a gem of architectural beauty, worthy of the treasures 
 it holds. It ranks with St. Peter's, the Vatican, the Palazzo 
 Utfizi, the Museo Borbonico and the British Museum, as one of 
 the established wonders of the world. The simple catalogue of 
 its contents would form a respectable library. It needs, how- 
 ever, some cleverly arranged guide-book that the visitor may not 
 only know what is most worthy of his attention, but where to 
 find what he seeks. There are so many halls and entrances, 
 that much time is often lost in fruitless research. Indeed, a 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 125 
 
 stranger not unfrequently leaves with the impression that he has 
 seen all the collections of the Louvre, when he has, perhaps, not 
 entered more than half the number of museums. The mere list 
 is formidable. 
 
 The Museum of Antiques is a series of apartments on the 
 ground-floor, containing statues, bas-reliefs, vases, candelabra, 
 &c. It is here we find the most beautiful discovery of modern 
 times ; the mutilated but still incomparable statue known as the 
 Yenus de Milo. On the same floor we find the Assyrian, Egyp- 
 tian, American and Algerine Galleries ; the Museum of Casts, 
 of the Middle Ages and Revival of Arts ; of Engraving on Brass 
 and of Modern Sculpture, the last occupying five halls. 
 
 Ascending by a magnificent marble staircase, we enter the 
 Salle Ronde, remarkable for its fine mosaic pavement. On its 
 right is the splendid gallery of Apollo. Passing through this, a 
 carved ebony passage-way conducts the visitor into the Salon 
 Carre, which is of itself elaborately beautiful, and contains the 
 gems of the paintings of the Louvre, so disposed as to be advan- 
 tageously viewed from luxurious velvet divans, in which I am 
 sorry to say 1 have seen, at least, one visitor sound asleep. 
 
 The gem of the Soult gallery, The Conception, by Murillo, by 
 some claimed to be his master-piece — has been placed here since 
 its purchase for 123,060 francs by the French government. Great 
 as was the price paid for it, fifteen minutes after it was struck 
 off, a telegraphic dispatch arrived from Spain to buy it at ami 
 'price. A close examination discloses only a mass of confused 
 coloring, more or less damaged. Let the visitor withdraw a few 
 steps and the full beauty bursts upon him. The angelic children 
 are literally floating in the air, while the Virgin is radiant with 
 heavenly beauty. There appear to be places where some less 
 skillful hand has retouched the canvas. The faces of the children 
 are of a vulgar cast ; too physically healthful. The expression 
 of the Virgin struck me as tinged with an expression of sorrow, 
 
126 PAUISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 a Magdalen sadness, instead of wearing that celestial joy which 
 should belong to the mother of the Saviour in the announce- 
 ment of the glad tidings to mankind. Soult's pictures brought 
 1,500,000 francs. In 1829 he offered them for sale for 90,000 
 francs, the purchaser to get possession of them at a time when 
 there was some risk of confiscation. 
 
 On the right is the Hall of Jewels, containing, in elegant 
 presses, vases of precious stones, and silver and gold church uten- 
 sils, some of which date back to Charlemagne. Here are also 
 the jeweled looking-glass, and other articles of toilet, the gift 
 of the republic of Venice to Marie de Medicis, and many other 
 curious and valuable objects. That which interested me most, 
 was a little statue of our Saviour, of about ten inches in height, 
 of a greenish stone as compact as porphyry. It is of most exqui- 
 site workmanship, with an expression of mingled humility and 
 compassion on a face of divine beauty. 
 
 The long gallery, in which are the paintings of the older 
 Italian, Flemish, Spanish, and French schools, is nearly a quarter 
 of a mile in length. On entering it for the first time I was dis- 
 appointed. Repeated visits, however, taught me that taste ex- 
 panded and improved in the contemplation of its master-pieces. 
 The paintings which, on the first glance, gave me the same im- 
 pression as does a confused crowd of strange faces, soon appeared 
 in all the pleasing variety of individual acquaintances. Each 
 had its peculiar talent and its definable attraction. Each struck 
 a different mental chord, and the whole gave birth to that quiet 
 harmony of the mind, which is to the intellect what an approv- 
 ing conscience is to the soul. It is the realization of artistic 
 beauty ; the joy of seeing actually defined what only existed as a 
 flitting shadow in the brain. Almost all possess the power to 
 appreciate beauty, but few the talent to give it form and ex- 
 pression. This gallery possesses fourteen hundred and eight 
 paintings. Napoleon made it the finest in existence, but in the 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 127 
 
 capture of Paris, the allied powers compelled the restitution 
 of the chefs-cVmivrcs of the world to their respective owners. 
 
 The Hall of Bronzes is full of valuable rehcs of ancient art. 
 Next is that of the Sept Cheminees, in which are found the 
 master-pieces of the modem French school. This leads into the 
 Galerie Fran9aise, also appropriated to the works of eminent 
 French artists. This gallery is sub-divided into nine halls. 
 Then we enter upon a series of apartments, in which are dis- 
 played the arts of ancient Egypt, Greece, and Rome. These 
 collections are exceedingly choice and comprehensive, and pre- 
 sent a vivid picture of the domestic life of those defunct nations. 
 The Middle Ages and ecclesiastical historj' are equally well ex- 
 hibited in halls devoted to their arts. There are others which I 
 do not enumerate. Merely to name them would convey no more 
 adequate idea of their intrinsic interest and value than would a 
 brick, shown as a specimen of a house. In addition to the 
 present attractions, Louis Napoleon has ordered the formation 
 of a museum of articles belonging to the sovereigns of France, 
 in which the souvenirs of his uncle will occupy a conspicuous 
 place. 
 
 In the " Salle des Seances," among a crowd of paintings of 
 gigantic dimensions and comparatively little interest, there is to 
 be seen one about two feet and a half long by two in height, in 
 a dingy, time-worn frame, without ^ name or even a number, 
 yet there is none in all the Louvre I have more admired for its 
 perfect finish and lifelike tone. It is of the Dutch school, and is 
 a skating scene, with a multitude of figures, dwindling in the 
 perspective into almost imperceptible dimensions. No miniature 
 of Petitot is more perfect in the minutest details. This is the 
 more remarkable as it embraces a great variety of objects, and 
 all equally well drawn and colored. All the other treasures of 
 the Louvre I was contented to admire or study as they were, but 
 this I coveted. An idea may be formed of the labor expended 
 
128 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 oil it from the price asked by the artists of the Louvre for a copy. 
 Good copies of the most admired paintings can, in general, be 
 had for from two to four hundred francs. For those of this, two 
 thousand francs are demanded. 
 
 1 have been able to give but an imperfect idea of the extent 
 of the treasures of art and science which the government of 
 France places at the disposal of the entire world. The palaces 
 and museums of the Luxembourg, Versailles, Fontainebleau, St. 
 Cloud, Meudon, and other places of interest, are equally at the 
 disposal of strangers, without charge. The government un- 
 doubtedly reaps a reward in the immense sum of money ex- 
 pended by foreigners in Paris, drawn thither by this liberality, 
 and to gratify their tastes in the enjoyment of these refined and 
 elegant superfluities of life, in the production of which French 
 genius excels that of any other nation. It was computed that 
 200,000 strangers arrived at Paris to witness the distribution of 
 the eagles to the army on the 10th of May, and that they left in 
 the city 40,000,000 of francs. The number of troops under arms 
 at the review has been greatly exaggerated, even by the official 
 journals, some of which quoted them at 80,000 and none under 
 60,000 men, which numbers will doubtless go down in history 
 as the true statement. The actual number was 36,000, of 
 which 6000 were cavalry, the finest troops of Europe. Some 
 conception may be formed of the multitude of visitors to the 
 museums of the Louvre and Versailles alone, from the fact that 
 $20,000 are annually received for the deposit of canes, umbrellas, 
 and parasols, which are not allowed to be taken into the gal- 
 leries. As the charge on each is but two sous, this would give 
 a million of visitors who carried these articles, and they form but 
 a small proportion of the entire number. Nearly one hundred 
 thousand dollars are received from the sale of catalogues. That 
 Yankee thrift which judges of the utility of an investment solely 
 by its monied dividends, may hence conclude that on the ground 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 129 
 
 of a national speculation the government have not greatly erred 
 in the establishment of these institutions. Their effect on the 
 civilization of the people, and the cultivation of the noble and 
 beautiful in art, it is difficult to over-estimate. It is equally- 
 difficult to realize that any population, however brutal, would 
 vent their political hate in the destruction of objects which add 
 so much to the glory and prosperity of their country. Yet we 
 find no learning, however venerable ; no art, however beautiful ; 
 no association, however sacred, spared by the revolutionary 
 hordes that seek to impose their tyranny alike on kingdom and 
 republic. After the Revolution of 1848, the provisional govern- 
 ment was obliged to conceal the beautiful statues of Joan of 
 Arc and the Duke of Orleans to prevent their loss. The mob in 
 their attack on the Tuileries and the Palais National, spared 
 neither literature, paintings, nor furniture. In the latter edifice 
 they destroyed the queen's private library, burned six hundred 
 thousand engravings belonging to Louis Philippe, and broke so 
 much glass and china, that more than sixty thousand pounds of 
 fragm-ents were afterward collected and sold by order of the 
 liquidators of the civil list. Such are the citizens that shout 
 " Vive la E-epublique Sociale et Democratique I" 
 
 The French government forbade the passage of Kossuth 
 through their territories for fear of his influence over the Socialists, 
 but I noticed they had of late allowed to be struck at their mint 
 a medal with his bust on the face, and on the reverse, in Enghsh, 
 " Set at liberty by the United States, 1851." This is the more 
 strange, as they had arrested and fined all those who sold his 
 effigy about the streets. The mint enjoys the monopoly of cast- 
 ing medals, by the sale of which it derives a considerable income. 
 In it, there is preserved a fine series of French medals from 
 Charlemagne down to Louis Napoleon. Those of the Emperor 
 are exceedingly beautiful, and form a complete history of his re- 
 markable career. A model in bronze of the cast of his head, 
 
130 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 taken a few hours after his death, is here to be seen. I was 
 disappointed in the apparent volume of the brain and breadth of 
 the forehead. The gigantic bust of Napoleon in marble, done 
 by Canova in 1806 for Fouche, which stood close by, was ev- 
 idently much flattered. His features by all accounts were classi- 
 cally beautiful, but it is quite apparent from his portraits and 
 medals executed when he was simply General, and those after- 
 ward done in honor of the Emperw, that the artists of the latter 
 had made a sudden discovery of a wonderful increase of personal 
 beauty. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 SECRET POLICE AND SOME THINGS NOT SECRET. 
 
 When a newly arrived American is informed that ail his 
 movements are knoA\ai to the police, that there is nothing he can 
 do, and scarcely any thing he can say or think, but what he will 
 find duly chronicled in its records, he looks incredulous. Never- 
 theless it is in the main true. The first care of the police is to 
 ascertain the nation and occupation of the stranger, his business 
 and general habits. If these are satisfactory, he is subject only 
 to a general surveillance. Should he become an object of sus- 
 picion, the Argus eyes of this mysterious power are upon him 
 every where. They report when he goes out and when he re- 
 turns ; where he visits and whom he visits ; who visits him ; 
 what letters he receives ; where from ; and his habits of eveiy 
 name and nature, even to the number of glasses of wine he may 
 take in the course of a day, and his very conversation. So 
 thorough is this watch, that when Caussidiere, the companion 
 of Louis Blanc, became prefect of the police of Paris, having the 
 curiosity to examine the reports made relative to himself before 
 the Revolution of February, 1848, he exclaimed with astonish- 
 ment. " Not only my actions but my intimate thoughts !" 
 
 How is this effected ? In various ways. There are, firstly, the 
 uniformed agents of the police, its external eyes, whose duties and 
 appearance are so well known, that they are easily avoided. But 
 in avoiding Charybdis, the suspected seldom see the more danger- 
 ous Scylla, or the secret agents, whose eyes and ears are in every 
 cafe, restaurant, oorrier, or place, where men do congregate, and 
 
32 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 under every disguise. They have as many shapes as Proteus, 
 and as many colors as the chameleon. There is no locality, from 
 the salon in the Faubourg St. Germain to the lowest haunt in 
 the quarter St. Antoine, in which they can not make themselves 
 completely at home. 
 
 The employees relieve each other in their watches with the 
 regularity of sentinels. The following note from an ex-prefect 
 of police to his successor, on finding himself incessantly followed 
 by two police agents, got wind immediately after the change of 
 ministry in November last, greatly to the amusement of the peo- 
 ple of Paris : 
 
 ** Monsieur le Prefet — I have the honor to announce to 
 you that I leave to-morrow to have a few days' shooting in the 
 country. It is, therefore, perfectly useless to send your agents 
 charged to watch my house and to follow me. I will do my- 
 self the honor of informing you of my return. 
 
 " Accept, etc., Carlier." 
 
 The finest broadcloth, or the richest satin, the profoundest 
 courtesy, or the most fascinating manner, will not insure one 
 from being in the presence of an informant. The very musician 
 who plays his organ under the windows has his mission ; the 
 commissionaire at the corner of the street, his ; and if any knowl- 
 edge is desired of internal movements, there is the porter, gener- 
 ally a woman, who as the Cerberus for every house, knows every 
 person, package, or note that enters, and generally every thing 
 that goes out, and who, for a " consideration," can open a chan- 
 nel of communication, via the kitchen, as to what transpires in 
 the parlor. This system of espionage is not confined to public 
 exigencies. It ramifies through all classes of society according 
 to individual wants. I can not better illustrate this, than by Sir 
 Francis Head's entertaining narrative taken in short-hand from 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES, 133 
 
 the mouth of one of the twelve thousand commissionaires of 
 Paris, who best answer to the literal truth of" Jacks of all work," 
 of any class of human beings. They are to be found all over the 
 city, clad in blue velveteen trowsers and blue corduroy jackets, 
 with brass plates affixed to their breasts, containing their num- 
 bers, orders, and names. They are faithful and intelligent men, 
 and can be relied on for any commission, from the conscientious 
 delivery of the Koh-i-noor itself to the most sentimental note 
 that love-stricken swain ever indited ; they black boots ; carry 
 baggage ; wash floors ; beat carpets ; carry up fuel ; in fine, do 
 all the chores of a domestic establishment, even to making the 
 beds. They watch with the sick and dead, pawn and redeem 
 articles at the Monts de Piete, curry horses, travel ; in short, it is 
 impossible to find any thing they are not ready to do at a mo- 
 ment's notice, even to giving you the news of the day or the 
 gossip of the neighborhood. But I will let the " commissionaire" 
 speak for himself, on one branch of his accomplishments. 
 
 "Sometimes, when a beautiful woman passes by, a gentleman 
 says to me, ' Commissioner, follow that lady, and try to find out 
 her name ; you must bring me back her name and address ; here 
 is my card and direction where I live ; get the name very exact, 
 and bring me back the answer to my house at six o'clock this 
 evening ; I will pay you liberally for your commission.' I 
 
 answer him, ' Sir, Madame lives in Street (never mind 
 
 where I) etc. She is called Mademoiselle . Now, Sir, you 
 
 can write to her, if that is agreeable to you.' This gentleman 
 then says to me, ' Come to-morrow morning at nine o'clock ; I 
 will give you a letter to deliver to Mademoiselle.' Now I go 
 and carry the letter ; Monsieur sees me return. ' Here is the 
 answer to your letter I' ' Ah I I thank you, Commissioner I 
 Weill how much do I owe you. Commissioner?' 'Sir, this 
 young lady kept me waiting a long time for her answer ; so, Sir, 
 it is well worth thirty sous ; you know it is a long walk.' 
 
134 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 ' Well, here are thirty sous, Commissioner ; if I want you to- 
 morrow, 1 shall pass by your station.' Now, this gentleman 
 puts to me some questions. He asks me, ' Has this young lady 
 got handsome furniture?' I answer him, 'Yes, Sir, I saw a 
 good bed, a convenient writing-table, a beautiful clock on the 
 chimney-piece, and the floor was carpeted. In short, Sir, I have 
 told you all I saw. Sir, I am going back to my station.' 
 ' "Well I that will do. Commissioner I If I want you I will let 
 you know.' ' I thank you. Good-day, Sir.' Now, when a 
 door-keeper refuses to tell me the name of the person I describe 
 to him — for example, a tall, fair lady who has just come in, 
 who has crossed over to the back of the court-yard, to the stair- 
 case on the right hand — I say to the door-keeper, ' Monsieur 
 door-keeper 1 would you be so good as to tell me the name of 
 that tall lady who has just gone in there all alone ?' The door- 
 keeper says to me, ' But what do you want with her name ?' 
 I say to him, ' It is a gentleman who has given me the commis- 
 sion to learn the name of that young lady (correcting himself) — 
 of that person, because I have not known sometimes whether 
 she was a married or an unmarried lady.' The door-keeper says 
 to me, ' If such is the case, to oblige you, I will tell you. She 
 is Mademoiselle, such a one :' — on my part, I show a little civil- 
 ity to the door-keeper, by giving him a glass of wine. 
 
 " Now, there is another subject which I will explain to you. 
 "When a gentleman has no confidence in his wife, he employs a 
 Commissioner to follow her when she goes out alone. Then the 
 gentleman says to the Commissioner, ' Follow that lady ; you 
 must tell me of every place where she stops ; I shall come to 
 your station this evening for an answer.' Then I say to the 
 
 gentleman, ' Sir, Madame stopped in Street, Number — . 
 
 Madame remained for half an hour in that house ; during th'e 
 time I Avalked up and down opposite to the carriage-gate on 
 the other side of the street, in order to know when she should 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 135 
 
 leave the street, Madame Avent to the warehouse fur novelties 
 
 Street, Number — . From thence Madame got into a 
 
 hackney coach, which she stopped in the street on coming out of 
 the warehouse. As for me, I ran as fast as my legs could carry 
 
 me to follow the carriage. Madame got out of it in Street, 
 
 say Number — . Madame sent away the carriage, after having 
 paid for it. Madame went into that house, where she staid an 
 hour and a half. On comnig out of that house, Madame went 
 straight home. Madame returned home at half past live. I 
 did not see any description of gentlemen speak to Madame. In 
 short. Sir, these are all the details and information which I can 
 give you, to-day.' The gentleman says to me, ' Well done. 
 Commissioner ; how much do I owe you ?' I say, ' You are 
 generous enough to comprehend how much the commission is 
 worth.' ' Here, Commissioner, are two francs. Are you satis- 
 fied ?' ' Yes, Sir, I am satisfied.' ' If I want you to-morrow, I 
 will let you know, or I will go to your station myself I say to 
 him, ' Yery well, Sir, it is all right. I thank you. Good-day, 
 Sir.' AYell, the next morning the gentleman arrives. ' Tell 
 me, Commissioner, can you do me the same commission that 
 you did yesterday ? You understand ; — come Avith me ; you 
 will keep yourself opposite my carriage-gate ; when a lady 
 comes out — a little brunette — she is to come in half an hour ; 
 she has a gown of tartan silk, a green bonnet, and a large shawl, 
 with a blue ground and red flowers — you will follow her. 
 Keep yourself at a distance, some way ofT, so that she may not 
 suspect that you follow her ; bring me back a very exact ac- 
 count ; you must tell me wherever she has stopped, the name of 
 the street, and the number of the house, and of all the houses, 
 where she may stop. I shall come and get your answer this 
 evening, at seven o'clock.' 
 
 "It is now seven o'clock. ' Sir, I have done your commission 
 very exactly. On leaving her house, Madame stopped on the 
 
136 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 Boulevard, at a shoemaker's shop. Madame staid there fifteen 
 
 mim^tes ; from there, Madame went to Street, Number — ; 
 
 Madame staid two hours in that house ; from thence Madame 
 came out ; she went to the Garden of the Tuileries ; Madame 
 was talking for about an hour with a gentleman, well dressed, 
 not very tall, of a dark complexion ; a gentleman who may be 
 about eight-and-thirty; this gentleman wears mustaches. From 
 thence Madame parted from this gentleman ; she returned home 
 to her own house at half past six. This is all the tour that 
 Madame has made to-day.' 
 
 " Sometimes a lady in the same way makes me follow her 
 husband, whom I know. In order that this gentleman may not 
 recognize me, I dress myself decently, like a citizen. My com- 
 rade, opposite, once followed a gentleman for ten days, at the 
 rate of six francs a day ; in the course of all those ten days he 
 was not able to discover or find out any thing I" 
 
 Every government of France, whether monarchy, empire, or 
 republic, has preserved the system of secret pohce. It must 
 therefore arise from the exigencies of French character, or be 
 deep-rooted in the necessities of the public authorities. When 
 its application is solely confined to individuals obnoxious to the 
 civil laws, the result can not but be beneficial. But diverted 
 into a political weapon, it becomes the most insidious as well as 
 dangerous antagonist to liberty. No individual can be safe from 
 the malice of an enemy directed through a spy. Society grows 
 corrupt because dissimulation becomes a necessity. There is no 
 option left the indiyidual other than a passive acquiescence in 
 the will of his rulers, or imprisonment or banishment without 
 appeal to jury. 
 
 It is its comparative value as a regulator of society, and as 
 a political machine, that I wish to notice. Of the latter, there 
 can be but one opinion in the United States. In regard to the 
 former, there is much to be said on both sides. The two repub- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 137 
 
 lies present the extremes of policy in this respect. In the United 
 States the authorities direct their efforts more to punish than to 
 prevent. So jealous are they of civil liberty, that they leave 
 much latitude to rogues and charlatans, rather than intrust any 
 power with the arbitrary control of individual acts, even though 
 the general welfare may seem to warrant its exercise. Hence 
 formal acts of the legislature become necessary to combat every 
 evil. And so subtle is law and so cumbrous its forms, that it is 
 only where a nuisance has become intolerable that society bestirs 
 itself for a remedy. We leave our moral sores to come to a 
 head, and discharge themselves. The result is, that many lives 
 are lost and much injury done by carelessness, quackery, imper- 
 fect construction of edifices, bursting of boilers, burning of boats, 
 or collision of cars, before the public become fully sensible that 
 the right of public safety is paramount to the right of private 
 gain. At every great catastrophe, there is a periodical excite- 
 ment and call for reform. But personal enterprise hurries so 
 rapidly on, that the warning is lost in some new invention or 
 some fancied improvement of private interest, and the public 
 quietly submit to the same risks as before. 
 
 This system is not without its advantages. It leaves every 
 thing to individual competition. It develops enterprise and im- 
 provement, because success depends upon presenting something 
 to the public better and cheaper than existed before. In the 
 great strife of private interests the public must gain. It leaves 
 the great tidal wave of commerce quietly to seek its own level. 
 Talent, genius, enterprise, and industry, have each a fair start, 
 with the entire public sitting in judgment. The consequence is, 
 that though many quacks may find their way into every profes- 
 sion, yet real worth is sure to rise to the head of its legitimate 
 sphere. 
 
 It is also an essential element of our individual independence 
 and self-reliance. With less to lean upon, we become more ca- 
 
138 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 pable of supporting ourselves. Although we may run more risks 
 in our frame of social life, we are better prepared to meet and 
 overcome them, than if we had been carefully protected from 
 every chance of mishap. The social element, like water, purifies 
 itself; the sediment gradually sinking to the bottom, leaves the 
 top clear and healthy. 
 
 We leave to every one the exercise of his own judgment in the 
 supply of his wants ; at the same time establishing the govern- 
 ment upon the aggregation of individuals. In France this is re- 
 versed. The individual rests upon the government, which forms 
 the great base of society. Withdraw this foundation, and the 
 nation is immediately precipitated into anarchy. In the United 
 States, were a plague to destroy at one moment every public offi- 
 cer, the people would soon quietly fill their places by new elec- 
 tions. Order rises from the one, from the other it descends. 
 Hence with the former, it is an exhaustless fertilizing spring ; 
 with the latter, an uncertain cloud, from which there may come 
 the tempest as well as the genial shower. 
 
 France has eight^^-six departments. At the head of each 
 there is a prefect. Every department is divided into forty arron- 
 dissements, under the charge of sub-prefects ; the arrondisse- 
 ments are subdivided into cantons, and these last into com- 
 munes, each of which is regulated by a " maire," whose simple 
 order carries with it an authority in matters of the internal wel- 
 fare of his jurisdiction, equal to that of an act of our legislatures. 
 Paris alone has a Prefect of Police, with a corps of three hun- 
 dred clerks. His bureau is subdivided into different departments 
 of active service, each having its particular functions, but afford- 
 ing mutual assistance as occasion may be. Thus there is the 
 chief of the conservers of public safety, who commands a brigade 
 of adroit criminal hunters. The chief, who watches over all 
 persons of doubtful political views, clandestine gaming-houses, 
 etc. There is another who regulates the houses of ill-fame ; an- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 139 
 
 other, the public vehicles ; another, the boats that navigate the 
 Seine, possessing authority to prescribe what they shall bring, 
 and how they shall unlade their cargoes. The " Chef des Hal- 
 les et Marches" regulates the price and sale of provisions. The 
 " Chef de Service de la Salubrite" has the important charge of 
 all that relates to the public health, such as the drains, closets, 
 gas establishments, &c. These " chefs "are immediately respons- 
 ible to the Chief of the Municipal Police. 
 
 Paris has four Commissioners of Police to each of its twelve 
 arrondissements, each having in charge one of the forty-eight 
 " quartiers." Without giving farther details of the organization 
 of this half-political and half-sanitary hydra, it is sufficient to 
 add that its arms, ears, and eyes, embrace all France, concentrat- 
 ing its knowledge and direction in one trunk, the newly created 
 Minister of Police, the sum of whose duties is to allow nothing to 
 exist in France unsanctioned by the government. 
 
 Thus, the first notice an individual may receive, that his 
 presence can be dispensed with in "La belle France," is a brief 
 notification, that by calling at the proper bureau, he will receive 
 his passport. Last autumn a simple decree of the Prefect com- 
 pelled all foreigners residing in the dej)artment of the Seine, to 
 apply for permission to remain, under penalty of immediate 
 expulsion. The object was to examine into the history of each 
 individual, and if, in the opinion of the police, the public safety 
 required his banishment, he was immediately sent out of the 
 country. Several hundred were in consequence banished. How- 
 ever salutary such a purgative might be in a city like New York, 
 our institutions require that a citizen must be considered inno- 
 cent until adjudged guilty by a jury of his countrymen. Conse- 
 quently, we are compelled to await crime before we act. The 
 French seek to prevent it, by placing society as much as possible 
 out of the risk. We punish ; they protect. It is not astonish- 
 ing that each new government of France, in its turn, cherishes 
 
140 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 an institution, which, in return, can give it such efficient sup- 
 port. 
 
 The necessity of this despotism arises from a principle univers- 
 ally acknowledged in France, "that no member of the commu- 
 nity has the right to do that which is hurtful to the puhlic at 
 large." It results, therefore, that he must be prevented from so 
 doing. When we compare the general security of their public 
 conveyances, the strength of their buildings, and all those points 
 in which prevention is so much more valuable than remedy, with 
 our own carelessness on these points, the comparison is greatly 
 to the disadvantage of the United States. 
 
 No steam-engine is allowed to be put into operation within 
 the city, until it has been thoroughly tested, and then only under 
 prudential regulations in regard to the building. Every manu- 
 facture deleterious to health, must be completely isolated from 
 human habitations. No one has even the right to kill a pig in 
 Paris ; but the meat for the capital is slaughtered at authorized 
 establishments, with the utmost regard to humanity compatible 
 with the business, and an economy of material that leaves no 
 waste. 
 
 There are no expensive suits arising from the prosecution of 
 nuisances. A simple order of the police is all that is required to 
 remove any manufactory, however expensive, should the neigh- 
 borhood find it " incommode," inconvenient. 
 
 The most rigid supervision is exercised over the exterior of 
 buildings, to see that the public be not endangered or incom- 
 moded by faulty chimneys, insecure shutters, sign-boards, or in- 
 cumbered sidewalks. This excess of care at times produces the 
 very evil which it is the intention to obviate. Thus I have been 
 annoyed for several days by an open drain because it was neces- 
 sary to obtain permission from the police to close it. 
 
 The care exercised over poisonous drugs, or whatever may 
 jeopardize individual health, is more rigid still. Each profession 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 141 
 
 is not only protected in its rights, but it is required to be com- 
 petent to exercise its calling ; and it is not allowed to combine 
 with it any other. There are no French Brandreths or Swaims. 
 Gluackery has but an indifferent chance in contest with the 
 police. Each chemist or apothecary is required to pass a strict 
 examination. He can not sell any poisonous substance without 
 a license, and then only under the authorized prescription of a 
 physician, who is required to register all the particulars of a 
 dose. Poisons of all sorts must be kept locked up by the chemist, 
 who is liable to be visited at any moment by an agent of the 
 police, accompanied by one of the professors of the school of 
 pharmacy, to ascertain the nature and quality of his drugs. 
 
 No patent medicines are allowed to be vended or advertised 
 until they have been examined and approved by the National 
 Academy of Medicine. This is literally putting the faculty on 
 their honor, or it would be in the United States, for the business 
 of doctors would materially decrease if pills and lotions were 
 made contraband. The police of Paris have been obliged to 
 make an exception in favor of the quackery so yearned for by 
 the bowels of John Bull, for fear, if he were not allowed to 
 swallow his favorite nostrum, he would quit Paris in disgust. 
 
 The provisions are subject to the same inspection as the medi- 
 cines. Meats must be wholesome, and the metallic utensils of 
 cook-shops kept bright and clean. Wine and liquors have their 
 regular tasters before they pass into the hands of the retailers. 
 But all this care does not prevent very dubious substances from 
 finding their way into the stomachs of their customers, from both 
 sources. My cook satisfied me on this point, by observing, wher- 
 ever there was a disposition to cheat there was a way, and prov- 
 ing it also. 
 
 The price of meat and bread is regulated by this same all- 
 meddling authority. The latter depends upon the price of grain 
 in the corn-market, and is fixed by the prefect twice a month, 
 
142 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PEINCIPLES. 
 
 averaging atout three cents a pound. The weight and quality 
 of the bread is also carefully looked after. The result is, that 
 French bread is uniformly good, and at a price satisfactory to 
 buyer and seller, as it is regulated on the most equitable scale 
 for each. I asked a Frenchman, if it would not be better to 
 leave trade free to fix its own prices. He replied, the result 
 would be, that one baker would undersell another, and thus draw 
 to his shop the population from other parts of the city, who 
 would lose much time in consequence, besides creating confusion ; 
 whereas now, the price and quality being uniform, all were con- 
 tent. The degi'ee to which this care of the people is extended, 
 borders sometimes on the ludicrous. For instance, the three classes 
 into which railroad voyagers are divided, are locked up in sepa- 
 rate rooms until the moment the train is ready to depart. They 
 are then let out, and passed along with the utmost dispatch into 
 their respective places. The reason given for this is, that if they 
 were left, as with us, to take care of themselves, they would 
 stand talking on the platform, and the train would go off with- 
 out them. 
 
 The following judgment, copied from one of the daily papers, 
 will astonish our race of Ichabod Cranes : 
 
 " Two persons, named Bapeaume and Mondiere, were yester- 
 day fined five hundred francs by default, by the Tribunal of 
 Correctional Police, for having opened a school without author- 
 ization ; and the school was ordered to be closed." 
 
 How much at a loss would be one of our " free and indepen- 
 dent" citizen house-agents, for words to express his indignation 
 at such a violation of his personal rights, were a constable to 
 inform him that, under penalty of being fined, he must hereafter 
 have all his advertisements of unfurnished houses printed on 
 ivhite, and those furnished on yelloiv paper. Such is the order 
 of the day here, and very convenient it is too. 
 
 Among no class of public servants does this arbitrary power 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FUENCH PHINCIPLES. 143 
 
 produce more satisfactory results than the hackney coachmen. 
 There are two thousand six hundred and seventy licensed public 
 carriages, including three hundred and thirty-three omnibuses, 
 producing to the city, from their taxation, a net income of about 
 $70,000 per annum. Their numbers, fares, and regulations, are 
 so plainly exposed on each, that the stranger is subject to none 
 of the annoyances arising from the habits of extortion, so common 
 in the cities of the United States. They are inspected daily, 
 and any attempt at imposition is severely punished. 
 
 The statistical know^ledge of the police is exact and compre- 
 hensive. It tells every article left by accident in the public 
 vehicles ; thus, in 1849, there were restored to their owners one 
 thousand six hundred and forty-two articles, besides eight thou- 
 sand two hundred and twenty-four francs in money. It gives 
 each month the receipts of the places of amusement, as follows : 
 For December, 1851, the theatres received six hundred and 
 forty-eight thousand four hundred and twenty francs ; the con- 
 certs, sixty-five thousand seven hundred and ninety francs ; and 
 minor exhibitions, eight thousand five hundred and ninety-three 
 — a total of seven hundred and twenty-two thousand eight hun- 
 dred and three francs, which was less by one hundred and fifty- 
 six thousand six hundred and ninety-seven francs than the pre- 
 ceding month, owing to the closing of the doors during the 
 " Coup d'Etat." It reports each day the arrival of strangers; 
 their nation, profession, lodging, and any other particular the 
 curiosity of the chief may desire to be satisfied about. In De- 
 cember, 1851, there arrived at Paris from the provinces, eleven 
 thousand eight hundred and eighty travelers, and from foreign 
 countries two thousand three hundred and seventy-nine — a total 
 of fourteen thousand two hundred and fifty-nine. Of this latter 
 there were nine hundred and ninety-eight English, one hundred 
 and eighty-four Americans, and twenty-six Turks. 
 
 A citizen of the United States abroad is greatly puzzled to 
 
144 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 nationalize himself. An American means an inhabitant of any 
 portion of the continent ; and almost invariably when I have 
 been spoken to as an American, the parties addressing me sup- 
 posed I was from a tropical climate. Om' national vanity con- 
 stantly suffers from the ignorance so general of all matters relat- 
 ing to our republic. The inhabitants of Europe at large have 
 about as indefinite ideas of the United States, as had the old 
 Romans of the then wild and unexplored regions of northern 
 Europe. 
 
 Every workman is required to have a " livret," or species of 
 passport, indorsed by the police, without which he is treated as a 
 vagabond, and any one employing him is subject to a heavy fine. 
 It must always bear the acquittal of his last employer. 
 
 This supervision extends to every thing in any way affecting 
 the welfare and interest of society. It is a species of conscience 
 for the body corporate, warning, checking, and punishing, as the 
 case requires. Whatever may be its ultimate effects upon the 
 national character, the stranger is bound to look upon it with 
 gratitude. It protects him in the street ; it watches over him 
 by night ; it is prompt to redress a wrong ; it makes smooth the 
 public places ; it gives him useful information ; in short, saves 
 him from a goodly proportion of the thousand- and-one ills which 
 are the usual heritage of travelers. 
 
 Skillful as the police are in preventing and tracking crime, 
 they are often baffled by a body of men equally skilled in their 
 nefarious profession. Vice has likewise its systematized organi- 
 zation. Paris appears to be a poor field for the ordinary pick- 
 pocket. I have not heard of a loss from this source, and no one 
 seems apprehensive of the public places which usually are har- 
 vest-fields for this class of depredators. The world of robbers, 
 notwithstanding the incessant surveillance of justice, is a numer- 
 ous one, and embraces every category of crime. The average 
 number of inmates of the nine prisons of Paris is about ten thou- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 145 
 
 sand, of which three thousand are children between twelve and 
 eighteen years of age. In the month of December, 1851, there 
 were arrested three thousand one hundred and fifty-two indivi- 
 duals, of which two thousand three hundred and fifty-two were 
 men, six hundred and thirty children, and but one hundred and 
 fifty women. Two thousand three hundred and fifty-four knew 
 how to read and write ; fifty-six only were entirely without 
 instruction. More than one half, or one thousand four hundred 
 and eighty-three men, two hundred and thirteen boys, and three 
 women, were imprisoned for political causes, which, however, 
 must not be understood in the literal sense of the United States, 
 as simply a difference of opinion. A political cause in France 
 may mean an interdicted cry, a malediction upon those in au- 
 thority, an attempt to assassinate a soldier, or a shot at the Pres- 
 ident. It comprises every thing, trivial or grave, calculated to 
 disturb the security of the existing government, or bring it into 
 disrepute. 
 
 There exist in Paris professors of robbery, who hold regular 
 courses of lectures, in which they not only explain theoretically 
 every species of theft, but give practical illustrations before their 
 pupils upon manikins constructed for this purpose. Their schol- 
 ars pursue their studies for the usual term of an academic course, 
 acquiring skill, no doubt, at the expense of the public. 
 
 Vagabondism and beggary were, until recently, extremely rife. 
 But the late stringent measures of the police have mostly cleared 
 the streets of these nuisances, giving an example which our At- 
 lantic cities would do well to imitate. Individual cases are ex- 
 amined, and the really necessitous are relieved through the legiti- 
 mate sources of public charity. The " m. aires," by circulars 
 addressed to the inhabitants of their respective arrondissements, 
 request offerings for the poor to be placed in their hands. In 
 this manner, becoming the systematic dispensators of benevo- 
 lence, they have the means to relieve the deserving, and to pun- 
 
 G 
 
146 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND PRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 ish imposture, which has as many colors and shapes as a ka- 
 leidoscope. 
 
 Beggary, like robbery, in the progress of civilization has be- 
 come an organization. It also has its schools and professors. 
 No people give more generously, and perhaps indiscriminately 
 to distress, than the French. In consequence, benevolence has 
 given birth to the bastard vagabondism, w^hich, true to its para- 
 sitical nature, threatens to strangle the very source of its strength. 
 Happily, the government has undertaken so to direct the gifts of 
 Ciiarity, as that they shall fulfill their legitimate intent, without 
 becoming a premium to vice. Paris is being freed of these social 
 pests, but it is at the expense, in some degree, of the United 
 States, where they will continue to resort, until salutary strin- 
 gency convinces them that a land of liberty does not imply a 
 land of vagabondry. 
 
 There are some individuals of this class whom the police, thus 
 far, seem to leave in quiet possession of their stands, to which 
 they appear to claim a prescriptive right ; possibly that the sight 
 of a certain amount of misery and deformity shall be always be- 
 fore the eyes of the public, to keep active the sentiments of pity 
 and benevolence, and also to afford that species of contrast in 
 social positions, which goes so far toward inculcating individual 
 contentment. None who promenade the Boulevard des Italiens 
 can have failed to remark the woman with wooden legs, seated 
 on the sidewalk, ever plying her inharmonious fiddle to attract 
 the gifts of the charitable. I am told she is one of the worst of 
 the " mauvaises sujettes" of Paris. On the bridges there are al- 
 ways to be found the blind and maimed, generally with some 
 instrument of music. It is gratifying to see with what apparent 
 sympathy and pleasure little children drop into their hats their 
 pennies as they pass. 
 
 French benevolence overflows in good works. The natural 
 kindness of heart is greatly stimulated by the exhortations of the 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 147 
 
 clergy. One sees constantly touching and delightful instances of 
 impulsive goodness. One that happened under my windows a 
 few days since occurs to me. A carriage dashing along the 
 street, upset an old woman's stock of apples, and scattered them 
 over the pavement, besides frightening her prodigiously. At that 
 moment a fashionable crowd M^as pouring out of the Tuilerics gar- 
 dens. Ladies and gentlemen, and even the little children, imme- 
 diately stopped, re-arranged her cart, picked up her fruit, carefully 
 replacing every apple, condoled with her, gave her money, and 
 sent her in a few minutes on her way rejoicing. The ouly objec- 
 tionable feature was, that the apple- woman appeared disposed to 
 exaggerate her misfortune, in order to speculate on the sympa- 
 thies of the white-kidded gentry around her. 
 
 Paris has its foreign vagrants as well as New York. All 
 classes, with an intuitive knowledge of strangers, make them the 
 special objects of their dolorous solicitations. I have been fol- 
 lowed for squares by young men, well dressed, plump in flesh, 
 and with every appearance not only of sound health but full 
 stomachs, most pathetically imploring charity on the score of not 
 having had any thing to eat for forty-eight hours, being out of 
 work, having a numerous family, and that it was the first time 
 they had ever begged. If a " sergent de ville" appeared, they 
 disappeared with an alacrity that left no doubt of their agility. 
 One of them told me so often that it was the first time he had 
 begged, that he began evidently to think it a good joke himself, 
 and finally left me unmolested, as one of the initiated. 
 
 I was much amused with an incident that befell a friend, who 
 on these occasions, to disembarass himself of their importunities, 
 always buried himself under a feigned ignorance of their desires 
 A stout vulgar-looking woman, with a bruised eye and other un- 
 mistakable evidences of a recent debauch, addressed him in the 
 terms most in vogue, with which, as with a philosopher's stone, 
 they hope to turn into gold all the sympathy that they touch. 
 
148 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 BetAveen disgust at her appearance and abstraction of mind, he 
 exclaimed in reply, " Je ne don't speak English pas." " Arrah, 
 is it you yourself that is English then," replied the Amazon in 
 the purest of Hibernian. It is needless to add that it required 
 some silver to arrest her brogue, when she found she had a sup- 
 posed countryman for an auditor. 
 
 The police have also of late cleared the streets of the numer- 
 ous peddlers, vv^ho obstructed the public ways by their awkward 
 carts, which frequently were of dimensions that required as much 
 space to manoeuvre in as a Boston truck. They have also made 
 war upon the newspaper boys, who, however, have not been 
 silenced without stoutly battling for their privileges. The places 
 of these noisy, turbulent urchins, making night and day alike hid- 
 eous with their cries, have been filled by a class of middle-aged 
 men and women, the former of whom may be seen half asleep, 
 and the latter quietly working or nodding, at the corners of most 
 of the principal streets until late at night, either entirely in the 
 open air with a chair to sit upon and a bench in front, filled with 
 the daily journals, sheltered from rain by only an umbrella, or else 
 in a sort of sentry-box, fashioned after those extraordinary habi- 
 tations of the " toupet" holders in the churches. The regular 
 newspaper carrier is a man of distinction, sports a uniform, and 
 levies contributions at New Year's ; but that race which in New 
 York has shown itself able to cope even with the city govern- 
 ment, has here been blown out of existence by the mere breath 
 of the prefect of police. 
 
 I have nowhere more forcibly realized the truth of the para- 
 dox, that the extremes of civilization and barbarism meet. The 
 females at both these degrees of life, supersede the natural affec- 
 tion for children by a depraved attachment for dogs or other an- 
 imals. Infants in Paris are sent into the country to be reared 
 among strangers, because they would interfere with the fashion- 
 able follies of their parents. A Polynesian mother leads her child 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 149 
 
 and carries her dog. I have known a rich carriage, in which 
 were ladies in costly toilets, to be stopped on the boulevards 
 that one of the ladies might alight to pick up, with her own del- 
 icately gloved hands, and to place upon the seat beside them, a 
 canine pet, which had gone into convulsions with all the disgust- 
 ing accompaniments of a dog in a fit. No human sufferer could 
 have received more careful and . affectionate treatment. Fre- 
 quently, more money is lavished on a single worthless animal, to 
 say nothing of the nice attention to its natural wants, than would 
 support a family, while its habits are a never-failing topic for 
 conversation. I love a dog, but it is in its proper place, and not 
 exalted above immortal beings. 
 
 If further analogy between these two extremes is required, it 
 is to be found in the labors imposed by the lords of creation, of 
 both races, upon the female sex. We all know what a savage 
 exacts of a woman as a help-meet. "Whether the requirement 
 in France is as rigid or not, the effect is the same, and the sex 
 work with an assiduity and severity not at all behind their sav- 
 age sisters. They say French me7i are lazy, and they must work 
 or starve. The fact is a Frenchman's gallantry is of a practical 
 character. His attentions are seldom lavished without an eye 
 to his own pleasure or interest, especially in his intercourse with 
 women. He is not a self-denying animal. If he have a good 
 seat he keeps it. If his feet are on a dry side-walk, it is not so 
 certain but that the weaker vessel must step into the mud to 
 pass him. I am not sure but he is half right when the arrogant 
 incivility of many young American women is considered. Too 
 much deference has a tendency to make them thoughtlessly self- 
 ish. I had scarcely landed in the United States before this 
 feature of American society was practically brought home to me. 
 I w^as sitting in the saloon of one of our Long Island Sound 
 Steamers with a number of spare seats about me, when a young 
 lady, who fancied my position came up to me abruptly, and point- 
 
150 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 ing to my seat, said to her mother, " Here, mother, is a nice 
 place ;" and without a look of acknowledgment coolly seated her 
 mother in it, as I rose and offered it, to save myself from more 
 pointed rudeness. 
 
 The same indecencies which characterize savage life, are ex- 
 hibited not only every hour but every minute by the gentlemen 
 of Paris, in the most public promenades, and with a disregard 
 to modesty absolutely painful to the novice in these sights. 
 Habit has undoubtedly reconciled the Parisians to a condition 
 of the streets, and wanton exposure that fills every stranger, not 
 only with disgust, but surprise, that a nation which attaches so 
 high a value to the refinements of art, should tolerate so umiec- 
 essary a nuisance. The police that are so effectual in other re- 
 forms, could certainly reduce this within the limits of necessity 
 and privacy. Even the beautiful and retired Madeleine is pro- 
 tected solely by notices threatening the penalties of law on those 
 who would defile even a sacred edifice. This nuisance is abso- 
 lutely forced upon the sight of the public, and engenders a disre- 
 gard to the proprieties of life, which no home restrictions can 
 fully counterbalance. With many these sentiments may be con- 
 sidered mere prudery. But for their j ustification I appeal to the 
 standard of female character as exhibited in New England, and 
 I may add in the United States at large, where the sentiment of 
 modesty is carefully guarded as the bulwark of chastity. 
 
 But it is not in this respect alone that Barbarism finds its 
 counterpart in Paris. The beautiful Gardens of the Tuileries ex- 
 hibit daily scenes that are usually confined to the privacy of a 
 nursery. Let any one wander from out of the beaten track of 
 travelers, and he will see sights not to be described, but more 
 common, if possible, among the females than the males, which 
 will convince him that all habits, bad as well as good, converge to- 
 ward Paris as toward a centre. Paris is indeed the capital of the 
 world ; not only of the world of civilization but of barbarism also. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PHINCIPLES. 151 
 
 This tendency to extremes has become a national characteris- 
 tic. Heroic in virtues, demoniacal in crimes, they, with equal 
 facility, glide from the refinements and luxury of civilization into 
 the coarseness and poverty of savage life. I have seen French- 
 men in all conditions, and I have ever found them equally at 
 home amid the saloons of Paris, the wigwams of America, or the 
 more captivating huts of Polynesia. The nature of the Anglo- 
 Saxon is unyielding. The savage must either climb to his ele- 
 vation or perish. Whereas a Frenchman, whom, to hear speak, 
 you would believe could not exist out of Paris, by his ductility 
 accommodates himself speedily to all races and events. Like hot 
 iron thrust into water he sputters greatly at first, but soon cools 
 into what, at heart, he really is, the true citizen of the world. 
 
 If every government which has ruled France for the last half 
 century had not been compelled to devote its energies chiefly to 
 its own preservation, the march of improvement would have 
 been much more rapid. With all their disadvantages, they have 
 made much progress in the work of reform. It is greatly to the 
 credit of Napoleon, that he was inflexible in his exactions of out- 
 ward decorum at his court, while his police were active in sup- 
 pressing the more public exhibitions of vice. To judge correctly 
 of what has been done, it is necessary to recur to the public 
 morals bequeathed to his reign by the depravity of the preceding 
 monarchs and the license of the Uevolution. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 SOMETHING CURIOUS FOR MORALISTS. 
 
 The print-shops of Paris swarm with pictures of the most 
 meretricious character, while books and engravings, of the vilest 
 description, are widely though clandestinely circulated. The 
 mind of" youth is thus early poisoned through one of the least 
 guarded avenues. In representing the human figure, whether 
 in marble, painting, or engraving, the artist has it in his power 
 to elevate the sentiments of the beholder by giving to his work 
 the expression of what is most noble and pure in human nature. 
 The galleries and museums abound with these elevating triumphs 
 of art. But, unfortunately, interest finds a more profitable 
 market in pandering to depravity. 
 
 These pictures are of every class and design, but all more or 
 less illustrative of sensuality. The semi-official organ has of late 
 the following announcement, which if it be carried out to the 
 utter exclusion from public view of every print of an exception- 
 able character, will be one important step toward guarding youth 
 from contamination: "The authorities are about to take the 
 severest measures to prevent the sale of obscene engravings and 
 books, which are of so much injury to the public morals." 
 
 This species of corruption has been doing its work for more 
 than a century almost unheeded. From 1790 to 1793, the 
 demagogues distributed among the people the most filthy and in- 
 famous caricatures against Louis XVI. and Marie Antoinette, 
 indifferent to the effect upon the morals, so that they excited 
 hatred toward the unhappy royal family. The public mind thus 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 153 
 
 becoming familiarized with these productions, a morbid taste 
 was created for whatever was most licentious in art. The shops 
 in the Palais Royal and other fashionable quarters began to vie 
 with each other in the production and exhibition of the vilest of 
 compositions. Napoleon caused these abominations to disappear 
 for a while, but in some form or other they have continued from 
 that day to this to do their errand of pollution. 
 
 The public sentiment that would support this traffic would not 
 be over-fastidious at any other shape which licentiousness might 
 assume. Consequently, we find that with the same effrontery 
 that the forms of prostitution were exhibited in shop-windows, 
 prostitution itself marched triumphant in the streets, After 
 sunset, no respectable person could enter the Tuileries or other 
 public gardens. Nothing could exceed the indecencies of posture 
 and dress to be seen in the streets ; and at the windows of their 
 houses prostitutes exhibited themselves entirely naked. The 
 generation that witnessed these things has not entirely passed 
 away. 
 
 The same disposition to shameless exposure among this class 
 is still apparent, but the watchful eye of the police is ever upon 
 them. From the public gardens and the Palais Royal they are 
 entirely excluded. I refer only to those who are registered on 
 the books of the police. Their deportment in the streets is no 
 worse than that of the same class in our Atlantic cities. But I 
 shall show in another place that they are the least dangerous to 
 public morals of the class of females, who are at once the victims 
 of the corruptions and the corrupters of Paris. At the risk of in- 
 curring the charge of unnecessarily exposing the vices of society, 
 I shall give some statements from authentic data, believing that, 
 to contend understandingly with an enemy, we should know his 
 resources. 
 
 Prostitution in the United States is left alone so long as it 
 does not intrude itself upon the public by the violation of some 
 
154 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 ordinance. History demonstrates, that wherever there are large 
 collections of men there will be courtesans. The most cruel 
 persecutions, and the severest legislation have been equally futile 
 to eradicate this evil. French legislation assumes the ground 
 that they are an inevitable adjunct to society in masses, and 
 undertakes to regulate what it can not suppress. Much can be 
 said on the relative effects of the two systems upon public 
 morals. One thing is certain, that the French have succeeded, 
 to a great extent, in diminishing the frightful physical suffering 
 which has resulted to humanity from this vice within the last 
 five centuries, and that they have hopes, if not of eradicating it 
 altogether, of making the scourge comparatively innoxious. 
 
 They do more than this. Every public woman is required to 
 be registered, that she may be under the immediate surveillance 
 of the police. No improper houses are allowed to exist near a 
 school, public institution, or church. A female who has become 
 "une fille inscrite" (and no one is allowed openly to pursue this 
 "metier" without becoming so), is subjected to most despotic and 
 stringent regulations for the preservation of public health. These 
 are of a nature sufficient to eradicate any lingering traces of 
 modesty, and every subterfuge is practiced to evade their dreaded 
 requirements. 
 
 When a girl applies for her license, she is seriously admonished 
 upon the folly of her intentions. Efforts are made to terrify or 
 disgust her with her proposed life. If she be very young, and 
 from the country, her family are written to, that they may be 
 induced to provide for her. In many instances the police act- 
 ually take them to their paternal homes, only to be, as it gen- 
 erally happens, ejected anew. "When there is no other resource, 
 they shut them up in the Hospital St. Lazare, give them work, 
 and make every effort possible to reclaim them. If they finally 
 persist in their design, there is no alternative but to place their 
 names upon the fatal register. It is at their option at any mo- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 155 
 
 ment to have them erased, by givmg evidence of their intention 
 to lead orderly lives. But while they remain registered, they 
 must carry about them tickets, on which are inscribed their 
 domiciles, and the results of the periodical professional visits to 
 which they are subjected. 
 
 In my first inquiries, I found that the most exaggerated ideas 
 obtained in regard to the number of known prostitutes in Paris. 
 In two instances they were computed at fifty thousand. This 
 arises from taking the numbers to be seen in their favorite haunts 
 as a standard for all Paris. They are concentrated in compara- 
 tively few quarters. I am indebted to A. J. B. Parent Ducha- 
 telet's valuable work for the following statistics, not without 
 interest, as they relate to that unfortunate class from whom 
 sprung the repentant Magdalen loved by Christ. 
 
 In 1820 there were registered at the bureau of police for that year 2746 
 
 1821 2913 
 
 1822 2902 
 
 1827 2471 
 
 1830 3028 
 
 1831 3260 
 
 1832 3588 
 
 This table shows a gradual but not very rapid increase. At the 
 same ratio it would give for 1852, about six thousand, or just 
 five times the number that existed in Boston eight years since. 
 
 From 16th March, 1816, to 31st April, 1831, the total number 
 registered was twelve thousand six hundred and seven, of which 
 Paris furnished four thousand seven hundred and forty-four, and 
 the provinces the remainder, except four hundred and eighty-two, 
 who were of foreign origin. 
 
 In 1831, there was one prostitute to every two hundred and 
 fifty-five inhabitants ; the proportions to the various quarters 
 varied materially. 
 
 Rue St. Honore had one to every fifty-two inhabitants, while 
 
158 
 
 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FEENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 the quartier du Mont de Piete had but one to every seven thou- 
 sand four hundred and forty-two. The He St. Louis, with a 
 population of seventy-five thousand, not one. 
 
 The causes of prostitution were found, out of five thousand one 
 hundred and eighty-three cases, to be these : 
 
 Absolute destitution 1441 
 
 Of these cases, one girl who had applied had been three days without food. 
 In the month of November last, a girl of eighteen years of age committed suicide 
 to avoid this life into which her own mother was forcing her. 
 
 Loss of parents and expulsion from homes 1255 
 
 To sustain old and infirm parents 37 
 
 Older sisters to support their younger 29 
 
 Widows to support their children 23 
 
 Ran away from the provinces 280 
 
 Brought to Paris, seduced, and abandoned 404 
 
 Domestics seduced by their masters and sent off 289 
 
 Mistresses abandoned by their lovers, and having no other resource. 1425 
 
 Another examination furnished some unaccountable exceptions to the ordinary 
 reasons assigned for this choice of life. For instance, at the time of registration, 
 there were three midwives, one artist, six instructresses of music, and three 
 women having respectively permanent annual incomes of two hundred, five 
 hundred, and one thousand francs. 
 
 The ages of 3250 were as follows : 
 
 Of 10 
 
 
 11 
 
 
 12 
 
 
 13 
 
 
 14 
 
 
 15 
 
 
 15 
 
 to 20 
 
 20 
 
 " 30 
 
 30 
 
 " 40 
 
 40 
 
 " 50 
 
 50 
 
 " 60 
 
 60 
 
 " 65 
 
 years old 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 6 
 
 20 
 
 51 
 
 1250 
 
 1909 
 
 239 
 
 60 
 
 4 
 
 3 
 
 Of 4470 born at Paris, all were of the laboring classes except four. 
 2332 could not sign their names. 
 1780 " very badly. 
 110 " well. 
 248 ascertained nothing of. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 157 
 
 Duchalelet considers the manufactories as the " centres of cor- 
 ruption, of which we should deplore the pernicious eflects while 
 admiring their productions." 
 
 By statistics which probably would not be borne out elsewhere, 
 he demonstrates that this class of women enjoy better health 
 than mothers in general. The average of sickness to each is ten 
 days per annum, for all maladies, and less than two and a half 
 for those of a grave character. 
 
 Society in the United States recognizes but two grades of 
 female virtue. From the moment a woman becomes unchaste, 
 the irrevocable decree of banishment from her former position 
 goes forth against her, and she sinks at once to the lowest level 
 in the social scale. Reformation becomes almost hopeless. The 
 impassable gulf of public opinion is a far more effectual barrier 
 to vice than the municipal severities which await the " fille 
 inscrite." Virtue has but one language every where, but it is 
 the greater or less degree, which regulates the moral existence 
 of a community. The standard of public opinion in France, on 
 this subject, is wddely different from that of the United States. 
 Hence between the legalized prostitute and the pure wife, there 
 exists a variety of social grades, each regulated by its own arbi- 
 trary code of opinion, and each distinct in its own sphere. 
 
 The influence of this sliding scale of morals is felt throughout 
 the nation. It modifies every character, and penetrates to every 
 fireside. To the student then, who would investigate the causes 
 of national differences, it becomes an indispensable study. 
 
 The woman who has sunk her virtue to the purely mercenary 
 character of the public courtesan has become too degraded to 
 have much influence in the ruin of society. She is the sad fruits, 
 and not the cause of its corruption. It is widely diflerent when 
 beauty, talent, wealth, and position combine their efforts to strew 
 the path of vice with flowers. To the moralist there is but the 
 one grand distinction, founded alike on the welfare of mankind 
 
158 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 and the behests of revelation. Whatever tends to disturb the 
 sanctity of the institution of marriage, is so much weight thrown 
 in the scale of corruption, and no extent of individual happiness 
 that may occasionally arise from ties unsanctioned by God can 
 compensate for the wrong done society. 
 
 The term " Lorette" designates that class of women, who, by 
 external decorum or temporary connections, are enabled to evade 
 the dreadful position of " filles inscrites," to which otherwise 
 their mode of livelihood would inevitably doom them. They are 
 subdivided into several ranks, and can scarcely be distinguished, 
 except at their own option, from the more virtuous classes of 
 their sex. Vanity prompts many to make a display in dress 
 and equipage that infallibly betrays their profession. But the 
 newly arrived stranger would be slow to suspect that the young 
 females, whom he meets in the most fashionable quarters, gener- 
 ally in pairs, with miens so modest and toilets so simple, are 
 but a superior class of prostitutes. If he watches them, he will 
 find that they are on their way to the Valentino or some other 
 ball-room, to which they all have free entrance. Let him enter, 
 and he will perceive that their dress is in general in accordance 
 with their manners, which are quiet, lady-like, and graceful. 
 For an acquaintance, a formal introduction from a friend is 
 necessary, and they exact and receive the same courtesy in pub- 
 lic which would be shown to the virtuous. 
 
 This is their external character while under the eyes of the 
 police. It is not for me to lift the vail that covers their actual 
 condition. But the licentiousness of this class is the more cor- 
 rupting, because it is gilded with a refinement of manner and lan- 
 guage that strips vulgarity of much of its repulsion, and too 
 effectually conceals the poisonous reptile that lies coiled at its 
 root. 
 
 The majority of these style themselves "femmes galantes." 
 In general,: they form relations of interest with some one man, 
 
PAEISIAN SIGHTS AND FUENCH PRINCIPLES. 159 
 
 from whom it becomes their greatest solicitude to hide their 
 amours with their lovers in general. They often are capable of 
 inspiring the deepest attachments, notwithstanding their known 
 habits. 
 
 The powers of captivation possessed by those who combine the 
 graces and charms of a cultivated mind to personal beauty, and 
 that perfection of toilet rarely found out of Paris, is prettily 
 illustrated by the Blue Fairy tale of Stahl. 
 
 " One day the Blue Fairy descended to earth with the courte- 
 ous intention of distributing to all the young girls of the differ- 
 ent nations the treasures of beauty which she brought with her. 
 
 " Her dwarf Amaranth sounded his horn, and instantly a young 
 girl of every nation presented herself at the foot of the Blue Fairy's 
 throne. All these together made quite a crowd, as you will 
 imagine. This happened a long time before the Revolution of 
 July, 1830. 
 
 " The good Blue Fairy said to her friends, ' I desire that you 
 may not have cause to complain of the gifts I am about to present 
 you. It is not in my power to give each of you the same thing, 
 but if I were to make such a uniformity in my favors, would it 
 not make them, less valuable ?' As time is precious to fairies, 
 she said very little, ended her speech there, and proceeded to the 
 dispensing her gifts. Nobody appeared annoyed at it. 
 
 " She gave the young girl who represented all the Castiles, 
 locks so black and long that she could make a mantilla of them. 
 
 " To the Italian, she gave eyes as bright and burning as an 
 eruption of Vesuvius in the middle of the night. 
 
 " To the Turkish girl, a figure as round as the moon, and as 
 soft as eider-down. 
 
 " To the English girl, an aurora borealis to tint her cheeks, her 
 lips, and shoulders. 
 
 " To the German, teeth like her own, and that which is no 
 
160 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 more valuable than fine teeth, but which has its value — a tender 
 heart all ready to love. 
 
 " To the Russian, the dignity of a queen. 
 
 " Then going into details, she put gayety on the lips of the 
 Neapolitan — wit in the brain of the Irish girl — good sense in the 
 heart of a Flemish girl ; and when nothing remained to be given, 
 she arose to take her flight. 
 
 " ' And I V said the Parisian to her — detaining her by the 
 floating border of her blue tunic. 
 
 '"I had forgotten you I' 
 
 " ' Entirely forgotten, madam.' 
 
 " ' You were too near me, and I did not see you. But what 
 can I do now ? My bag of gifts is empty.' The fairy reflected 
 an instant, then calling to her by a sign all these charming 
 beauties, she said to them : 
 
 " ' You are good, because you are beautiful — it remains for you 
 to repair a great error of mine ; in my dispensation I have for- 
 gotten your sister of Paris. 
 
 " ' Let each one of you, I beg, share a part of the present I 
 made her with our Parisian. You will lose little and bestow a 
 great deal.' 
 
 " Who could refuse a fairy, and above all, the Blue Fairy ? 
 With that graciousness which happiness always confers, these 
 girls approached in turn the forgotten Parisian, and threw her as 
 they passed — one a part of her black hair, another a tint of her 
 rosy complexion ; this one a beam of her joyousness, that what 
 she could of her sensibility ; and so it happened that the Parisian, 
 so poor, so obscure, so eclipsed by her sisters, found herself in an 
 instant, by this generous division, richer and more attractively 
 endowed than any of her companions." 
 
 Foreign youth in Paris, apart from the moral restraints of 
 domestic life, and isolated from those circles which formed at 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 16] 
 
 *"%;;;(!» 4 ■ 
 
 A MODERN ASPASIA 
 
162 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 once its safety and pleasure at home, is thrown into a focus of no 
 ordinary temptations. The rules of the most select of these 
 coteries are as rigid as those of the salons of the Faubourg St. 
 Germain. To be admitted to their reunions, it is necessary to be 
 properly presented. They form societies; they give the most 
 sumptuous of dinners and the most attractive of soirees. Some 
 allow full license of gambling, and a freedom of manners, seduct- 
 ive to libertines who come to lose their money and their health ; 
 while others, renowned artists themselves, collect about them the 
 most distinguished names of France. The fact that Mile. Eachel 
 has several children by different fathers, is no bar to her soirees 
 being the most brilliant of this brilliant capital in point of male 
 intellect, rivaled, perhaps, in this respect, only by those of George 
 Sand. 
 
 The race of Ninon d'Enclos is not extinct. The few that rise 
 to the pinnacle of their demoralizing career establish rules as 
 arbitrary and unalterable as those of the Modes and Persians. 
 Some receive their friends only between ten and four o'clock in 
 the day, devoting their evenings to the society of their chosen 
 lovers, whom they frequently support, and in visiting places of 
 amusement. 
 
 One of the strangest features of this depravity, and illustrative 
 of a harmony in degradation scarcely conceivable, were it not 
 recorded by Duchatelet, is the formation by the elite of these 
 courtesans of a clientage, subject to the following conditions : 
 They receive only married men, mutually acquainted, to the 
 number even of fifty. The circle once formed, no new member 
 can be admitted, except by the presentation of several of the 
 habitues, and the consent of all ; and should any one become a 
 widower he is at once expelled. 
 
 Let not the grand ladies of society be deluded into the idea that 
 the rules of conventional morality are solely their property. The 
 audacious complaint of the Parisian mistress, who one day said to 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 163 
 
 her lover, " When will you cease to compromise me ? You still 
 continue to appear in public with your wife," will rectify this 
 error. 
 
 What has been the book of the season ? The history of a 
 Lorette. What has been the play of the season ? Her life dra- 
 matized by the genius of Dumas. It ran one hundred successive 
 nights, producing more than three hundred thousand francs. 
 Week after week has the Vaudeville been crowded by a fashion- 
 able audience, of whom not a few were obliged to engage their 
 seats fifteen days in advance. I have seen gray-headed men and 
 women, as well as the young and sympathetic, weep like children 
 as they gazed upon the fictitious scenes of what was sorrowful 
 reality to this erring girl. Her life was, after all marked by no 
 unusual incident. It was happier than the common lot, because 
 she died before old age brought with it that decay, to them more 
 dreadful than death itself. The toy of Paris while living, now 
 that she is in her grave, she has called forth a sympathy and 
 created an interest, that a Howard or a Dix might in vain labor 
 to excite in the cause of afflicted humanity. True, there ig a moral 
 in her life. There is in every life. Of such as hers, the Aspasia of her 
 age, the friend of the Prince of Conde and of Madame de Main- 
 tenon, long since said, with a deep sigh of regret, as she recalled 
 her career, " Had any one proposed to me such an existence, I 
 should have died of fright and grief." If such be the deliberate con- 
 clusion of her, who, the slave of one passion, preserved to an age 
 seldom attained,, wealth, beauty, and an intellect that made her 
 the idol of numerous friends, what must be the reality of those lesser 
 stars who are bought and sold as cattle by the beauty of their limbs 
 and the freshness of their years? The name of this frail one was, 
 singularly enough, Marie Madeleine (Mary Magdalen), though 
 she adopted another while living. Her education that of a 
 peasant girl. Once launched on the sea of Parisian dissipation, 
 her rare beauty and rarer taste made her the butterfly idol of the 
 
164 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 hour. She dressed magnificently, but with perfect propriety. She 
 expended more than one hundred thousand francs a year, and was 
 ever in debt. Her diamonds, horses, and cashmeres were the 
 envy and admiration of the female world. The luxury of her 
 apartments it would be difficult to describe. They were all that 
 wealth and art could produce even in Paris. The numerous 
 articles of her toilet were of gold or silver, bearing the initials 
 and crests of the titled donors. Furniture of rose-wood, and buhl. 
 Gobelin carpets, vases of Sevres and China, statuettes of Dresden, 
 and the most exquisite paintings of Saxony, hangings of satin, 
 velvet, and lace, give but a faint idea of the sumptuousness with 
 which she was surrounded. The same clock which had sounded 
 the hours for Madame de Pompadour and Madame du Barri 
 struck for her likewise the passing of time. The most beautiful 
 works of modern art were intermingled with the rarest antiques, 
 with that nice perfection of the coquetry of beauty, that none 
 but the beautiful possess. It is true she ruined those who paid 
 for this luxury, but she astonished the most refined of her sex by 
 the extent to which she carried the costly finish of the minutest 
 details of her wardrobe and toilet. A style of living like this 
 is not uncommon among the Lorettes, though few attain to the 
 magnificence with which she was surrounded. 
 
 She was consumptive, and the physicians who attended her, 
 say she desired death to hasten her release from a life which, 
 with its accumulated elegancies, was but a weary burden. Her 
 wish was soon accomplished, for she died at twenty-one. Du- 
 mas has made a touching tale of her experience. To what 
 extent he has idealized, it is difficult to ascertain. There are no 
 improbabilities, and the story is in a few words as follows : 
 
 Marie was loved by a young man, who finally won her heart 
 by the tender interest he manifested in her health, the only gen- 
 uine sentiments of affection that she had ever experienced. The 
 new and purer sentiments thus awakened, led her to regard her 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 165 
 
 past ]ife "with horror. She persuaded her lover to retire with 
 her to a village near Paris, where the scenes of rustic beauty 
 recalled to her the innocence of her earlier years. In contrast 
 with what she had been, this was virtue, and it brought her 
 peace and a partial restoration to health, Dumas, however, 
 with that spirit which is the bane of the literature of his coun- 
 try, instead of depicting the chaste joys which are the evidence 
 of true affection, debases the passion of love by a picture of delir- 
 ious sensuality, which, if true, iTiust have inevitably led to satiety 
 and disgust. So thinks the father of Armand, her lover, who 
 has discovered their retreat, and, scandalized at the position of 
 his son, in vain endeavors to withdraw him from his infatuation. 
 As a last resource, he visits Marie, appeals to her love for Ar- 
 mand, and, finally, makes her promise to leave him in a way 
 that any return shall become impossible. Marie fulfills her 
 promise by suddenly returning to her former life, plunging into 
 dissipation with a reckless determination to abridge her misera- 
 ble existence. Armand, believing her false and perfidious, leaves 
 the country in despair. Before his return she dies, and not till 
 then does he learn the real motive of her inconstancy. 
 
 Such is the heroine and such the tale ; a type of that class of 
 literature which has in France the same relative influence and 
 success, as do in America the equally dramatic, but far more 
 moral writings of Hawthorne or Longfellow. Bulwer in the 
 Caxtons does justice to the character of the light literature of 
 France. It saps the very foundation of chastity. Another class 
 of writers must arise, before this spring of pollution will give 
 forth cleansing waters. Balzac is the favorite of ladies. Brill- 
 iant, witty, and keen, overflowing with that quality so essential 
 to success among those who themselves so thoroughly exemplify 
 it, he becomes the more dangerous from being so " spirituel." 
 His amusing caricature of " The Little Miseries of Married 
 Life," a book elegantly got up, terminates with the moral, that 
 
166 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 the cure consists in each party, leaving the other in perfect 
 freedom to form such liaisons as fancy suggests, thus creating 
 the anomalous domestic state of " menages a quatre." I quote 
 the text, " C'est qiCil rCy a cVheureux que les menages a 
 quatre'' 
 
 What adds to the interest of " La Dame aux Camelias," is 
 the fact that the accomplished actress who fills the role of 
 Marie recalls, in her own life, many striking incidents of her's 
 whose character she represents. Like her she is consumptive, 
 and has shortened her days by dissipation. It is said, also, 
 that the principal friend of Marie has become her's. She dis- 
 plays rich jewels, at all events. Her husband, from whom 
 she has been separated seven years, sits in front as leader of 
 the orchestra. I am told, when Dumas asked her to play the 
 part of Marie, she said to him, " Pray, how do these creatures 
 dress ?" 
 
 There is yet another class of these females, blending in some 
 degree with that of Lorettes, yet in the main, distinct. I refer 
 to mistresses. Their influence is felt from the Tuileries to the 
 meanest hovel, Louis Napoleon, false at all events in this 
 point to the example of his uncle, sets a pernicious example to 
 the nation of avowed concubinage. The facility with which 
 these relations are formed, and the ease with which they are 
 ruptured, is a serious bar to matrimony, which by French law 
 once entered into, can never be dissolved, whatever causes of 
 misery may arise. The severity of the statute doubtless has its 
 weight in producing the too general state of concubinage. In 
 1850, the proportion of illegitimate to legitimate births in Paris 
 was one in four ; some years it is greater. It has reached one 
 in two ; throughout France, it is one to thirteen. 
 
 In thirty-three years there have been two million two hundred 
 and eighty-seven thousand nine hundred and forty-four illegiti- 
 mate births. These figures, however, do not furnish the same 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 167 
 
 guide as to the number of ephemeral unions that they would to 
 those of marriages, from the fact that the proportion of children 
 born to the former is much less than to the latter. Truth, how- 
 ever, constrains the admission that they often give evidence of a' 
 sincerity of afiection not always to be witnessed in the married 
 state. These connections are more common in cities than in the 
 country, and among the poorer classes spring rather from motives 
 of temporary interest or convenience, than from libertinism. Un- 
 fortunately for the sacred ties of family, the government makes 
 itself literally a nursing mother to the fruits of these unions ; 
 and by its mistaken generosity not only deprives concubinage of 
 one of its most powerful checks, but undermines the parental 
 sentiment. 
 
 The number of foundling hospitals has greatly decreased with- 
 in twenty years, but the desire to prevent infanticide still keeps 
 in existence more than one hundred and fifty throughout France. 
 The government give encouragement to those who will retain 
 their children, but receive all who are abandoned by their 
 parents. Previous to 1837 no questions were asked, and no one 
 was seen ; the infant was received in a " tour,''' a sort of moving 
 box, which, once turned, shut out the child forever from the 
 sight of its mother, unless she formally reclaimed it. These 
 " tours" were abolished, and certificates of abandonment, signed 
 by a commissary of police, required. This compelled the parents 
 to acknowledge their intention. The result of the closing of the 
 " tours" showed so rapidly an increase of infanticide, that the 
 clandestine reception has been lately restored. Mothers, after 
 abandoning their children, frequently present themselves at the 
 hospitals as nurses, with the very dubious chance of being paid 
 for the care of their own infants. Nurses receive from four to 
 eight francs per month, and the children are taken to their 
 homes in the country. At the expiration of two years they 
 are at liberty to give them up, when, if no other nurses can be 
 
168 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 secured, they are sent to the orphan department. The children 
 are provided for until they are twenty-one years of age. The 
 estahlishment for them of agricultural colonies has been found 
 beneficial, both in point of health and education. The number 
 received at the " Hospice des Enfants Trouves," at Paris, during 
 the past ten years, is fifty-one thousand four hundred and fifty- 
 seven — an annual average of five thousand one hundred and 
 forty-five. The total number placed out at nurse in 1850, was 
 twenty- two thousand six hundred and fifteen. The expense of 
 this establishment for the ten years ending in 1851, has been 
 $3,464,732, and the average mortality one in four. 
 
 By these institutions the government undoubtedly prevent 
 infanticide to a certain extent. But to what degree of moral 
 abasement or personal destitution must those be reduced who 
 leave to the authorities only the dreadful alternative of pre- 
 serving life by the destruction of the maternal instinct I An 
 American may well be pardoned for doubting the policy, in 
 every point of view, of so effectually screening the individual 
 from the results of crime or improvidence, at the expense of the 
 State. 
 
 In extenuation of the depravity of the lower classes, there are 
 to be pleaded ignorance and misery. Among the higher, a per- 
 verted moral education and extraordinary temptation. 
 
 That this corruption is, to a great extent, owing to the literature 
 most in vogue, is evident to any one who studies its character. 
 The following extracts, drawing a parallel between wife and 
 mistress, is from the pen of an accomplished writer, Leon Gozlan. 
 It is taken from a work which embodies the first literary talent 
 of France, illustrated by the beautiful and amusing productions 
 of the pencil of Gavarni. It is in every respect a book of" luxe." 
 I mention this simply to show that the sentiments quoted are not, 
 as in America or England, the mercenary productions of unprinci- 
 pled authors, who seek refuge in obscurity from offended public 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FEENCH PRINCIPLES. 169 
 
 opinion, but the offspring of accomplished minds, and paraded 
 before the pubhc with the luxury and freedom which are solely 
 the birthright of legitimacy. 
 
 " Mistress. — This word has no exact equivalent, in the ma- 
 jority of other languages, for the reason, that the object which it 
 indicates with other nations is not, as with the French, a being 
 who loves and is loved. Foreigners have borrowed from the 
 coarse vocabulary of sensuality, terms more or less wounding, to 
 indicate the woman chosen from all others — whom in France 
 we call a mistress. Their unworthy epithets pitilessly dishonor 
 what ours elevates : — they stain with infamy that which we 
 adorn with flowers ; — they bespatter with insult the brow which 
 we crown. "With them, the mistress is still the ancient slave, 
 standing in the chimney-corner, or crouching in the shadow of 
 the marble steps of the palace ; but with us the mistress pre- 
 cedes chivalry and royalty, she followed Renaud and Tancred 
 to the Crusades, she shared the throne with Charles YIL, Francis 
 I., Henry III., Henry IV. — Agnes Sorel, Diana of Poitiers, Ga- 
 brielle, Montespan, noble women — loving hearts — charming 
 geniuses I Without them, the princes whom they ruled would 
 have had neither courage, delicacy, loyalty, nor distinction. 
 They would only have been kings' 
 
 ''■Wife. — I consider the wife in contradistinction to the mis- 
 tress, as representing the solid, noble, and useful side of life — the 
 architectural side as it were — without which there would be for 
 man neither repose, shelter, nor dignity. 
 
 " She is the healthy fruit which contains all the embryos (or 
 buds) of family and society. 
 
 " Take away the wife and you almost annihilate the mother, 
 not merely she who produces children, but she whose mission it 
 is to love them tenderly, to bring them up, to make of them men 
 and citizens. Thus a woman, in marriage, is nothing less than 
 
 H 
 
170 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FUENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 society itself, because it is she who makes its force, its greatness, 
 its support, and its continuance. 
 
 " This is what I think of the mistress — she is the young and 
 smiling side of life, its month of May, its spirit, its fresh poetry, 
 imagination I — 
 
 " Take away the mistress, and you necessarily take away all 
 the grace and beauty which imagination, poetry, and genius give 
 birth to in the sphere of ideality, that is, the arts. Thus it can 
 easily be shown that the finest works (selected by chance) in 
 painting, sculpture, and poetry, were inspired by those independ- 
 ent women whom, in the present day, we call mistresses. I 
 will not quote ; — I should have to quote all — to inclose the 
 whole world of art, in quotation marks. This is a truth easily 
 proved, a truth rather wounding to the wife, but why should she 
 be wounded ? She is reason, the mistress is only wit ; she is 
 order, the mistress only enthusiasm ; she is good sense, the mis- 
 tress only delirium ; she is the earth, the mistress only heaven ; 
 not — let me hasten to explain — not the heaven to which we 
 aspire for our good deeds, but that where we should desire to go 
 to do no sort of deed, not even a good one." 
 
 The same author, after dividing mistresses into two general 
 classes, viz., those who love you, and those who love your money, 
 subdivides the last as follow s : 
 
 "Those who inhabit the Rue de Grammont at three hundred 
 francs a month, gloves, and flowers. 
 
 " Rue du Holder, four hundred francs a month, and a groom. 
 
 " Rue Saint Lazare and Mont Blanc, five hundred francs a 
 month, and a one-horse carriage. 
 
 " Faubourg du Roule, two thousand francs a month, the pa- 
 villion of a hotel, two carriages, a cook, a footman, and two 
 horses. 
 
 " To complete the list, it is necessary to cite those who love, 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 for their money, princes and dukes, and who are supported in 
 corresponding style." 
 
 These are the females to be seen daily in the Champs Elysees, 
 and at their boxes at the Grand Opera or the Italiens, rivaling in 
 equipage and dress, and excelling in beauty, aU others of theii' 
 sex. 
 
 Unfortunately, there is still another shade of immorality, of 
 darker hue, having its source equally in the strongest passions 
 and purest sentiments of the human heart. It is the fearful re- 
 venge nature takes for her violatad laws, whenever the principle 
 of religion is not sufficiently strong to bind it in chains. To trace 
 it to its origin, we must begin with the system of education. In 
 France, toward both sexes, it is one of restraint. The girls are 
 either educated by governesses, or placed in boarding-schools, where 
 they are kept in rigid seclusion. The boys are similarly treated. 
 The external world is regarded as one wOiolly of depravity, from 
 the corruption of which the chief security is in ignorance, or bolts 
 and bars. I know no more pitiable sight in Paris, when con- 
 trasted with the free and buoyant spirits of American youth, than 
 the long double files of boys in uniform belonging to the several 
 schools, paraded undar the inspection of their teachers, through 
 the public gardens for air and exercise. They remind me, as in 
 long files they drag along their spiritless limbs of the sluggish 
 crawling of caterpillars. There is no liveliness of tongue or man- 
 ner. Night and day they are guarded as securely as if they were 
 criminals. The same preventive system, that obtains in every 
 department of the government, prevents them from acquiring 
 those habits of self-reliance and early development of character, 
 to be seen in the youth of the United States. It is true the 
 temptations are greater. But the result shows that what is gain- 
 ed in present security, is lost in ultimate power of resistance. 
 They are not trusted. Consequently, the firmest basis of virtue 
 
172 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 is wanting. Curiosity and desire are awakened, and I have the 
 best French authority for ascribing the dissipations into which, 
 the youth almost invariably plunge as soon as manhood brings 
 them liberty, to the restraint of their school days. In the United 
 States it has passed almost into a proverb, that ministers' children 
 become the most dissipated men ; but it is only in instances 
 where severity supersedes reason. 
 
 Confinement being more natural to girls, is less to be depre- 
 cated ; still, it is the actual application of suspicion in lieu of 
 confidence. They are carefully screened from all outward evils, 
 but in that knowledge, which is in general reserved with us for 
 riper years, they are early adepts. The mind becomes familiar- 
 ized to a standard of virtue very different from that which 
 regulates the conduct of American mothers. While there are 
 scarcely any theoretical concealments in families of what must 
 sooner or later be known, a conventional platform of morality is 
 erected on a foundation of sand. The reverse of the legal rule, 
 that every one is innocent until proved guilty, sways the minds 
 of the guardians of youth. They are considered guilty, unless 
 kn«wn to be innocent. Hence they must ever be in sight. No 
 better germ for intrigue could be devised ; for such is the infir- 
 mity of human nature, that what is prohibited becomes doubly 
 desirable. 
 
 In America, mothers rely upon the principles of virtue im- 
 planted by them from infancy in their children for their security 
 The young of both sexes mix freely together. If there can be 
 shown to result from this confidence, and early accustoming 
 them to mingle in the amusements of their years, a condition of 
 things in after-life such as no one disavows to exist in France, 
 then it will be well to practice more restraint. There is, in the 
 United States, a class of young men to whom chastity is as dear 
 as truth. Their characters are due to their early association? 
 with the pure of that sex, which gives them mothers and sisters. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 173 
 
 Female virtue is as strong in their honor as in its own innocence. 
 To assert this in France would cause a smile of incredulity. 
 Such differences does education produce in natures essentially 
 the same. 
 
 The French girl is fenced in on every side by a rigid con- 
 ventionality based upon distrust of the male sex. She can not 
 converse with a friend or even a relative, more distant than a 
 brother, except in sight of her parents or appointed guardians. 
 She never appears alone in the streets. In society she is fet- 
 tered to observances that render her as isolated as the inmate of 
 a harem. The governess of my children, whose family bears 
 one of the most distinguished of the ancient names of France, 
 but who are now so reduced, that the sole choice left her was 
 either a convent or to gain her own subsistence, was a single 
 lady, and not particularly youthful. Wishing one evening to 
 visit a friend who lived in the vicinity, she accepted my escort, 
 but when within a square or so of the house, she requested me 
 to leave her, as it would compromise her were she seen with a 
 gentleman not of her family. 
 
 Another single lady of rank, of sufficient years to be entitled to 
 some of the liberties of a Madame, told me that when she first 
 appeared alone in the street, she blushed and felt as if every body 
 was looking at her for doing something wrong. 
 
 Marriage becomes their declaration of independence. A young, 
 timid, modest girl, whose heart would palpitate at the thought 
 of an infringement of the slightest of these rules of conventional 
 etiquette, blooms at once into an experienced matron, versed in 
 all the arts of the world. Her first object has been to obtain 
 freedom. In this she is fully successful. The action which m 
 an American girl would be construed only as innocence, would 
 ruin the reputation of her French sister. The reverse becomes 
 true after marriage. No American woman could escape censure 
 were she to follow the example of a French wife. 
 
174 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 Affection has no part or lot in a French marriage. Where it 
 exists, it is only as an exception to the rule. The union is based 
 on wealth or position. I am assured by the sex that has the 
 most at stake, that the question invariably in relation to the lady, 
 is, not whether she is beautiful or deformed, good or bad, but 
 what is the amount of her " dot,'' or dowry, to which, in addi- 
 tion, they sometimes inquire if she have any scrofulous taint. 
 Briefly, they are marriages of convenience. The business is one 
 of negotiation between the gentleman and the parents of the in- 
 tended. She may not even know that there is such an event 
 in contemplation until her fate is decided. The liberty which is 
 in prospect, contrasting so sweetly Avith present confinement, 
 undoubtedly has much weight in reconciling the minds of the 
 maidens to a custom which, in the United States, would be con- 
 sidered an intolerable tyranny. 
 
 Sixty and sixteen are thus often brought together. The first 
 marriage I witnessed was of a couple who had between them 
 well-nigh that difference of years. Strange to say, while the 
 priest was pronouncing their nuptial benediction in one part of 
 the church, a funeral was in progress in another. 
 
 French hearts can no more subsist without love than their 
 neighbors. Indeed, impulsive and sympathetic, the necessity of 
 an emotion is a portion of their nature. It is easy to perceive 
 what becomes of a beauty without dower. The plain, God help 
 them I He often does ; for hopeless of success in human love, 
 they obtain that consolation in religion that nothing else can 
 bestow. 
 
 Those who marry, love their partners if they can. If not, 
 somebody else. Appearances, however, must be preserved. A 
 French woman would die with shame to be supposed to be capa- 
 ble of an elopement. That would be a violation of the proprieties 
 of life. She has no scruples, however, as to receiving her lover 
 under her husband's roof, provid^^d he does not know it. An 
 
 1 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 175 
 
 English woman will seldom continue to deceive one man, when 
 her heart is another's, ^he considers it a lesser sin to be true to 
 her affection, than to eat the bread of the man she betrays. Ex- 
 traordinary as it may appear, you will hear the former abuse, 
 without stint, the latter, not for having a lover, but for proclaim- 
 ing the fact. 
 
 Where there is so much need for it, there is always much 
 mutual discretion. Husbands and wives are blind where all other 
 eyes are open. There is no violation of faith. The one bargained 
 for liberty, the other for money ; love would be welcomed were 
 he to make his home with them. Not arriving, each, like Celebs, 
 goes in quest of a companion 
 
 The caricaturists show up the condition of domestic affairs in 
 many amusing ways. I have before me an evening paper, con- 
 taining a print of two ladies of the " haut ton," in conversation. 
 One says, " Yes, my dear, my husband has had the infamy to 
 bring this creature into my house, under my eyes I and that when 
 he knows the only affection I have in the world is two hundred 
 leagues from here I" 
 
 The other replies — " Men are cowards I" 
 
 Balzac's Philosophy of Conjugal Life in Paris, has an engrav- 
 ing of a tender scene between an enamored couple, the lady ex- 
 claiming, " My friend, I sacrifice to you all I owe to the best of 
 husbands. If you ever deceive me, Maurice, ! this would be 
 very bad I" 
 
 " Le meilleur des maris," and " Le bon Dieu" of a French 
 intriguante are pronounced in the same tone, and with equal re- 
 spect, and each is about equally distant from the heart. 
 
 I would not be understood as implying there are no happy and 
 true households. Far from it. There are undoubtedly very many. 
 Nevertheless, I describe a reality which no one in France pretends 
 to disguise. Yet I am constrained to believe that, in proportion 
 as a certain class of my own countrywomen imitate the fashion- 
 
176 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 able follies of Paris, they acquire a taste also for its corruptions. 
 A friend, whose experience in his native city led him somewhat 
 harshly to declare he Avould never marry one of his own country- 
 women, after being initiated into certain circles in New York, to 
 which his title and position made him welcome, declared that 
 city to be less moral than Paris. 
 
 Every man is believed to have his mistress. It does not follow 
 that there are no exceptions, only that no amount of argument 
 could induce the belief It would require as much circumstan- 
 tial and positive evidence to show the contrary here, as it would 
 with us to prove that a married man kept one. The virtue of 
 mankind, from Adam down, has never been remarkable for its 
 sternness, in sight of the blandishments of Eve and her descend- 
 ants. My readers, then, need be under no fears of a breach of 
 charity, in believing that a Parisian, after showing his filial 
 respect in making a marriage of convenience, seldom fails to con- 
 sole himself by the more agreeable tie of love. 
 
 In a little comedy frequently performed at the French theatre, 
 in which is exposed the condition of domestic life, arising from 
 the substitution of mistress for Avife, the plot terminates, after a 
 quarrel, in the marriage of the couple. This is called " The End 
 of the Romance." 
 
 Whether there be more romance or not in illegal than in legal 
 unions, moralists have found it expedient to establish societies 
 for the promotion of marriages and the legitimation of children. 
 That of St. Franfois Regis was established in 1826. Up to Janu- 
 ary 1, 1852, it had taken cognizance of twenty-three thousand 
 two hundred and thirty-four disorderly households, and had 
 sought to recall to religion and good morals forty-six thousand 
 four hundred and sixty-eight individuals. During that period it 
 had succeeded in procuring the legitimation of seventeen thou- 
 sand children. Of one thousand two hundred and thirty-four 
 marriages which it had induced among couples living in concu- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 177 
 
 biiiage, eight hundred and sixty-one had been in that state from 
 one to ten years, sixty-eight from ten to fifteen years, twenty- 
 eight from fifteen to twenty years, twenty-one from twenty to 
 thirty years, and ten from thirty to forty years. Several of the 
 parties were from sixty to eighty years of age, and one couple 
 had lived together forty years and three months previous to their 
 legalized union. 
 
 I can not close this chapter without relating, on the authority 
 of Madame de Crequy, an historical fact, illustrative of the idio- 
 syncrasy of taste of French ladies. After the first Revolution 
 there was formed a society which imitated the costumes and 
 manners of the ancient Greeks and Romans. It was at a period 
 when much was said about patriotism and the want of children 
 for the Republic. The ladies all aspired to the glory of produ- 
 cing citizens. Those who were "enceinte" made the greatest 
 possible public display of their condition, while those less fortu- 
 nate invented a style of dress for the street, which should at least 
 give them that reputation. The time and money usually ex- 
 pended in dressing the hair, were devoted in preference to this 
 novel fashion. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 Unquestionably to an American the most "bizarre" of all 
 the sights of Paris is a Carnival Ball at the Grand Opera. The 
 pit being boarded over, and made level with the stage, forms a 
 ball-room of magnificent proportions. The boxes, unless pre- 
 viously hired, are free to the public. The orchestra, two hun- 
 dred and more in number, led by the famous Musard, is a com- 
 bination of the best musical talent of France. These balls com- 
 mence at midnight, and terminate at six o'clock, Sunday morn- 
 ings. Costumes or dominoes and masks are required of women, 
 but men can enter in plain clothes ; the former are free, the lat- 
 ter pay two dollars for admission. 
 
 1 ASKED KALL AT THE GTwVND OPEKA. 
 
 The attempt to give an accurate idea of the mad, bewildering 
 scene, as the visitor first enters the gorgeous hall, would be futile. 
 His eyes are dazzled by the lights, his ears stunned by the united 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FUENCH PRINCIPLES. 179 
 
180 PxVRlSlAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 shouts and merriment of thousands of throats, and his senses be- 
 wildered by the variety of costumes, colors, and shapes, which are 
 whirling with frightful activity and extravagant gestures through 
 the mazes of waltz, polka, or quadrille. Collect specimens of 
 all the costumes from Adam and Eve down (of course I exclude 
 the fig-leaves), — of every nation under the sun, and add to them 
 every variety and shade of color ; intermingle monsters from the 
 briny deep ; sprinkle them thick with shapes hot from Tantalus ; 
 invent figures which have no likeness in any created thing ; gal- 
 vanize the whole, so that every tongue, muscle, limb, and linea- 
 ment, shall assume a convulsive activity that threatens imme- 
 diate rupture, and make the mass move in harmony with the 
 ■wild, thrilling, furious notes of a band, that could lend excite- 
 ment to the very stones themselves, and you would still fail to 
 realize the scene. 
 
 The favorite costume among the women is a species of simpli- 
 fied or reformed Bloomerism, consisting of (I proceed upward), 
 satin slippers, silk stockings to the knee, light satin or silk 
 breeches, the legs of different colors, and the whole surmounted 
 by a sort of semi-shirt, or open chemise, beautifully laced, and 
 leaving mostly in "2^'^^^'^^ naturalibns" that portion of the cor- 
 poreal charms which ladies, in fashionable assemblies, are ever 
 reluctant to hide when there is any thing to display. These cos- 
 tumes vary according to the fancies of the wearers, but their 
 numbers indicate the natural desire of the sex to escape the 
 thralldom of petticoats ; a weakness I would by no means counsel 
 them to yield to, as it gives too palpable evidence that in trou- 
 sers they are greatly inferior in grace to man. Indeed, it is most 
 amusing to witness their attempts at masculine activity or manly 
 dignity, which are sure to terminate in a duck-like pantomime, 
 showing that they are excellent waddlers, but bad walkers. The 
 dress, however, allowed full liberty of motion, in which, I sup- 
 posed, consisted its charm, for I have seen several avail them- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 181 
 
 selves of it, by springing upon the backs of their partners ; and 
 in one instance, one, by no means of ethereal lightness, seated 
 herself upon the shoulders of her gallant, and there, triumphant, 
 made him finish the two-storied quadrille. 
 
 Every species of license, not purely beastly, is allowed ; loving 
 embraces, jovial slaps, and seductive pinches, meet with no 
 chilling response ; kisses explode on all sides like the popping 
 of champagne corks ; jokes fly about like swallows in spring- 
 time ; " double-entendres" and "jeux d'esprits" fall as thick and 
 fast as hail. Amid all the "giving as good as he sends," perfect 
 good-humor prevails. The lowest apologize for accidents with 
 the grace of drawing-rooms. In a rush by some frolicsome 
 damsels, I was borne back so suddenly, that my heel came down 
 with violence upon the toe of my neighbor in the rear ; the pain 
 was so sudden, that nature found instant relief in the common, 
 but unmentionable French exclamation in all such cases known 
 and approved ; but the words were not cold on his tongue when 
 he turned to me and apologized, although I w^as the innocent 
 aggressor. 
 
 Hebrews, Greeks, and E.omans, were intermining like old and 
 familiar friends, with the courtiers of Louis XIV., and "distin- 
 gues" of our day. There was a sprinkling of Iroquois, High- 
 landers, and all the picturesque garbs of Europe. The ward- 
 robes of every theatre must have been in requisition for this 
 " solemnite." It afforded me an opportunity of practically as- 
 certaining that, in respect to them decidedly, " Distance lends 
 enchantment to the view." Amid the variety and oddity dis- 
 played, there seemed to be no room for any thing new, when, 
 of a sudden there arose a shout of terror, followed by a recoil 
 among all the masks on the floor. Twelve non-descript devils 
 in shining black suits, fitting tight to their skins, with long green 
 hair falling about their waists, fiery red faces and horns, tails of 
 the same color, barbed, and more than a fathom in length, had 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 burst into the circle of dancers, overturning all in their way, and 
 leaping and shrieking in a manner so vigorous and unexpected, 
 that the throng, for the instant seemed impressed with the idea, 
 that Satan had actually sent them a deputation to see how his 
 work was going on. Men or demons, they soon fraternized with 
 the prettiest girls, and with tails in hand, actively illustrated the 
 vulgar contortions of a dance I shall not attempt to describe. 
 They were numbered from one to twelve on their backs, in huge 
 white letters. Their partners discriminated them as devil num- 
 ber one, and so on through the complement of fiends. Another 
 mask, which kept about it a large circle of admirers, was what 
 Yankees call a " six-footer," clad in a lank cotton night-gown, 
 with a night-cap on of the same material. At every pause of 
 the orchestra there arose a shout of applause, that fell upon the 
 ear like a roll of surf upon the strand. 
 
 Fancy costumes are prohibited from entering the saloon. 
 Here assemble the intriguantes in domino and mask, who vie-' 
 timize or perplex the verdant of the other gender. It is impossi- 
 ble in this guise to detect 
 the age, looks, and often the 
 sex of the wearer. As most 
 who sport this disguise, do it 
 to extract suppers or money 
 from strangers, many not very 
 edifying scenes are to be wit- 
 nessed, if one is curious to 
 observe all the license these 
 balls develope. Sometimes ad- 
 ventures more comical than 
 disreputable are the result. 
 1 had a friend whose size 
 admirably qualified him for 
 the feminine garb. He ac- 
 
 AN INTRIGUANTE. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 183 
 
 A CARNIVAL SUPPKK. 
 
 cordiiigly procured one, took lessons from a lady in the use of 
 a fan, and made 
 his way to the 
 ball, where he 
 soon had a circle 
 ofadmirers. One 
 gentl«nan well 
 known to him, 
 not only com- 
 plimented him 
 upon his small 
 feet and hands, 
 but loaded him 
 with bon-bons, and insisted on being his partner in every dance. 
 He prosecuted his suit most perse veringly, and desired an in- 
 terview. The mask not being able otherwise to disembarrass 
 himself of his admirer, slipped out, jumped into a coach, and 
 started for home. He had not got far before he saw his amorous 
 friend in full chase, and when he arrived at his own door, his 
 late partner was close by. Waiting till he came up, he took off 
 his disguise, and disclosed his well known features, to the infi- 
 nite chagrin and anger of his partner, who had said to him too 
 many foolish things ever to be able to look upon him compla- 
 cently again. 
 
 Although the female frequenters of these balls are, m general, 
 low characters, yet I am assured, on respectable authority, that 
 parties from the Faubourg St. Germain sometimes go clandes- 
 tinely, for a frolic. The curiosity of English and American 
 ladies often takes them there ; but unless sheltered from the 
 universal license in private boxes, it is indiscreet, if not deserv- 
 ing a worse name. No refined mind can, with pleasure, witness 
 the destruction of all that is modest and lovely in woman, how- 
 ever ludicrous may be the exhibition. To virtuous females these 
 
184 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 Saturnalia had better remain among the things unseen. The 
 government require a per centage of the proceeds, for charitable 
 objects ; this is not surprising, as they enlist lotteries in aid of 
 religion. 
 
 In striking contrast to this scene is one which I can recom- 
 mend to all ladies. The Jardin d'Hiver forms one of the most 
 charming places of resort, whether as a garden or a ball-room, 
 possessed by any capital. Nowhere does Parisian taste display 
 itself in more fanciful and chaste decorations. A light iron frame 
 supports a front, which opens into a spacious vestibule. The 
 vault is sustained by eight Doric columns. Thence the visitor 
 passes into an extensive garden, protected above and on all sides 
 from the external air by glass, tastefully set in an iron frame- 
 work. A light and airy gallery, supported on iron columns, 
 runs all along the interior. This is filled with flowers. The 
 advertisements sometimes announce ten thousand camelias in 
 bloom at once. Below is a garden fragrant with orange-trees 
 and rare exotics, which, to quote from Galignani, " with the 
 basins in the form of enormous sea-shells, cascades, statues, and 
 groups, by the bloom and beauty of the scene, reminds the spec- 
 tator of Tasso's enchanting description of Armida's garden. In- 
 deed, but for the welcome absence of the tiger and cobra capello, 
 it would need no great stretch of imagination to believe one's 
 self transported to the most luxuriant regions of the East. Here 
 the camelia, the yucca, and the cactus will meet the visitor's 
 eye, in juxtaposition with the palm-tree, the araucamia, and the 
 banana. An aviary filled with exotic birds is to the right ; in 
 the centre of the garden is a grass-plot, extending to a romantic 
 grotto ; while the few walls that connect some portions of the 
 iron frame-work, are completely roofed with mirrors, and lined 
 with passifloras and other creeping plants." The author of this 
 extract had evidently never bewildered himself in the intermina- 
 ble interlacings and dense foliage of an Eastern jungle, or he 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 185 
 
 would never, for a moment, have conceived that glass and iron 
 could cover their endless variety and gigantic proportions. The 
 dwarfish representatives of hot-house culture, bear no better com- 
 parison to the originals amid their native forests, than does the 
 cage-born lion to his free-born brother, roaming at large in his 
 native wilderness. However, I saw enough of tropical beauties, 
 to recall many a delightful association with their more genial 
 native climate. 
 
 Nothing has been neglected for accommodation or refresh- 
 ment. There are even places for various games. The price of 
 admission to all this loveliness is but a franc. 
 
 I was present at a ball given under the patronage of the Prin- 
 cess Mathilde. The area was illuminated by sixteen thousand 
 six hundred candles, four hundred lamps, and an electric light, 
 so disposed as to give most brilliant perspectives in all directions. 
 From the lofty gallery over the entrance, the effect W3.s singular.. 
 The absorption of light by the vegetation was so great, that it 
 gave the scene the appearance of an empyrean, viewed through 
 a hazy atmosphere; the clusters of lights appearing to be so 
 many firmaments, one succeeding the other in the illimitable 
 distance, until the faintest twinkle proclaimed that human sight 
 had reached its limit. 
 
 There were present at least four or five thousand representa 
 tives of the middling and higher classes of society at Paris 
 besides the usual complement of strangers. I was struck with 
 the lack of female beauty, when so much is to be met with in 
 the street. There was a brilliant display of diamonds in the 
 balcony of the Lady Patronesses. The ladies generally ranged 
 themselves like so many wall-flowers on the circular seats around 
 the transepts, which though forming somewhat of a barrier to 
 social intercourse with the gentlemen, yet heightened the beauty 
 of the coup-d'oeil upon entering. A band of music at the further 
 extremity, concealed among the shrubbery, played alternately 
 
186 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FEENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 with the orchestra for the dancers. The candles unfortunately 
 kept up a constant shower of grease, so that in a little while 
 most of the coats of the gentlemen looked as if their linen was 
 making its way through numerous air-holes. 
 
 From this ball I went to that of the Artists at the Opera 
 Comique. Here the crowd was, if possible, greater, and the 
 dancing from want of space much more restricted. The ladies 
 present were the actresses of all the theatres, and it is but justice 
 to say, that I have never seen assembled a more beautiful collec- 
 tion of women. But what particularly attracted my attention 
 was the exquisite beauty of their toilets. There was nothing 
 overdone. Richness of material was beautifully blended witli 
 simplicity of design. 
 
 To see a Frenchman under his most amiable aspects, he must 
 be visited at his places of amusements. Scattered throughout 
 the city are halls for dancing, graduated in respectability by the 
 fees of entrance. They are all frequented by Lorettes, who are 
 admitted gratis. The best of the class is the Valentino, fitted 
 up somewhat after the Moorish style, with pistol galleries, billiard 
 tables, dynamometers, and tables of games of skill, the prizes 
 being some articles of trifling value. The police are ever on the 
 alert to prevent the dances from degenerating into indecencies. 
 In the few that I have entered, there has been no indecorum. 
 The toilets are those of the street, and hats are not removed. I 
 have nowhere seen more graceful dancing, and if their uses were 
 confined to the innocent gratification of this exercise, there 
 could be little that was objectionable to urge against them. 
 
 The most beautiful of the summer gardens devoted to this 
 amusement is the Chateau des Fleurs. When illuminated it has 
 the air of enchantment. But it would be wearisome and unsatis- 
 factory to the reader for me to attempt to convey to him a cor- 
 rect idea of the seductive taste displayed in these places. The 
 numerous class that live in illicit domestic relations, or who pander 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 187 
 
 to the passions of men, find in them those excitements of which 
 their position makes them so covetous. The middle classes, with 
 their families, frequent them to a considerable extent ; but what 
 an American parent would view with horror or shame, would 
 amuse a French mother. Under no circumstances can they be 
 considered as favorable to morals ; and while the government 
 exercises the most rigid precautions, to prevent the sale of any 
 medicine which could be used as a poison, except under the re- 
 sponsibility of a physician, and fines those who open schools 
 without a license, it permits a thousand sources of corruption to 
 the public morals to exist under its eye, seemingly believing 
 that its highest duty is to amuse the people. Its principle, to 
 regulate what it is forced to tolerate, is right. But there are 
 some evils it is by no means forced to tolerate. Among them I 
 would enumerate what I saw at the " Salle des Delices," which 1 
 visited to witness the etiquette of the lowest of these resorts. 
 
 The entrance fee was five cents " en consommation ;" this 
 last phrase was unintelligible to me. It purported to be a 
 masked ball — but there were no masks or costumes present, 
 and the " en consommation" I soon deciphered to mean some- 
 thing to drink, for the chief business was done at the bar. The 
 dancing was decent, and the place orderly, as they all are, 
 while the " Sergents de Ville" are in sight, and there are al- 
 ways too many of the military on guard to admit of any contra- 
 vention of public order. The hall was fdled with a rowdy look- 
 ing class of young men, most of whom were smoking pipes. A 
 girl of not more than twelve, with fine features, but whose man- 
 ners showed that she already was familiar with vice, was perse- 
 vering in smoking a cigar that made her sick. One table was 
 filled with girls, some as young as eight, and one certainly not 
 over six years of age, who with a party of boys, not one of whom 
 I judged to be over twelve years old, were tossing off tumblers 
 of abominable beer with all the convivial forms of old topers. 
 
188 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 The boys were also smoking pipes filled with the vilest tobacco. 
 The girls having drunk enough to make themselves unsteady, 
 joined in the dance. I turned away sickened at the scene, satis- 
 fied that the Devil had his infant schools, as well as the Church. 
 
 The Salle de Montesquieu affords a school of a different char- 
 acter. It is the rendezvous of the sporting gentry and the arena 
 of amateur and professional combatants. Upon entering I came 
 upon a cloud of tobacco smoke, so dense as to cause me to gasp 
 for breath. There was a numerous and in general well-dressed 
 class of spectators, including several women who appeared to be 
 respectable. The contests this evening were limited to a novel 
 species of wrestling. Those who tried their skill were entirely 
 naked, except to the last point of decency. There were some 
 heavy throws, but there was no disposition to brutality. On 
 the contrary, the spectators frequently called out "enough" to 
 the panting champions. The lions of the evening were Messrs. 
 Arpin and Turc, between whom the struggle was long and 
 doubtful. One was at last handsomely thrown, and although 
 he lost a considerable bet, besides the mortification of defeat, he 
 walked up to his antagonist, shook his hands, and kissed him on 
 each cheek, to signify that he entertained no animosity, and that 
 it was fairly done. 
 
 There was a boy of about fourteen present, who performed 
 extraordinary feats of suppleness. He stood firmly on his feet, 
 and bending backward touched the calves of his legs with his 
 lips, and kissed the floor. He put his legs over his shoulders 
 and walked on his hands. In short, he did all that could have 
 been done with an India rubber manikin, frequently extorting 
 involuntary exclamations of sympathy from the spectators, while 
 he smiled at their tenderness. 
 
 The drama plays the same relative part in the education of a 
 Frenchman, that religion does in that of an American. The 
 latter loves his meeting-house, and looks askant upon the thea- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 189 
 
 tre ; the former, indifTerent to the church, or merely tolerating 
 it, conid not exist without the play-house. It is his school of 
 manners ; his forum of education ; his teacher of history ; the 
 parent of his ideas ; a living monument, in which antiquity re- 
 appears ill the present. He can. no more live without it than 
 the American without his newspaper. It plays the most impor- 
 tant role in his "Art de vivre," a science which in his own 
 estimation exists only at Paris. It is the necessary superfluity. 
 Saiiite Beuve gravely says, " The French public, who respect so 
 few things, have preserved the 'religion' of the French theatre." 
 Churches have been sacked and desecrated ; the clergy have 
 been massacred or banished ; but the drama has triumphantly 
 held its own, through every revolution, oftener giving law to 
 society than imitating it. The same author, the popularity of 
 whose " Causeries" attests how truly they reflect the public sen- 
 timent, speaks thus : "When Paris recommences to amuse itself, 
 it is not only a privileged class that is amused, but all classes 
 profit and prosper. Paris then is in good train to save herself, 
 and France with her. The theatres present the means of action 
 the most direct, the most prompt, the most continuous, upon the 
 masses. To abandon to chance the direction of^the theatres, 
 would be to despise the custom and the exigencies of our nature, 
 the energy of the French mind itself" He views it, properly 
 directed, as a means of opposing the increasing national coarse- 
 ness of manners, in which, he says, in many points we are fast 
 becoming as rude as the English and Americans. Not for a 
 moment contesting the superior polish of French manner, yet as 
 an attentive observer, I must confess, that while he has not ex- 
 aggerated the importance of the theatre in the estimation of his 
 nation, its influence is not favorable to the moral welfare of soci- 
 ety. If amusement be the highest aim of existence, the theatre 
 has attained its correct position. But if useful and solid quali- 
 ties, the purity of domestic life, and the development of correct 
 
190 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 principles, be of more importance to the human race, then the 
 " art de vivre," as understood in France, is a moral imposture. 
 
 Attracted by an advertisement of Comte's theatre for chil- 
 dren in the Passage Choiseuil, which promised all '' new cats" in 
 the play of " Puss in Boots," I entered, and found myself in a 
 very indifferent building, though it had been' much patronized 
 by the young Count of Paris, during the reign of Louis Philippe. 
 The audience was chiefly composed of " bonnes" or nurses, hav- 
 ing on an average about two children each in charge, some of 
 whom had not certainly been long strangers to a draught from 
 nature's fount ; and if I mistake not, a few were then employed 
 in drawing nourishment therefrom. The parterre was in fact a 
 very dirty nursery ; resounding with every cry compatible with 
 the strength and variety of infantine lungs, except when the cur- 
 tain was up. Every time it rose, there was a shout of joy, 
 which subsided into occasional ejaculations of wonder and admi- 
 ration at the efforts of the young actors, who really performed 
 very creditably. There was a slight attempt to point a moral 
 in two of the four plays, but to amuse by jokes, and ludicrous 
 spectacles, or to frighten by hobgoblins and phantoms, was the 
 chief object. In this M. Comte showed his accurate knowl- 
 edge of the character of his audience, whether children, nurses, 
 or parents. In one piece there was a bear hunt. The animal 
 so frightened his pursuers that one climbed a tree, and the other 
 fainted from fear. The bear turned him over with his nose, 
 then approaching his head, smelt it, and expressed his contempt 
 by imitating the usual performance of dogs at all corners with 
 which their noses are satisfied. This was the " hit" of the even- 
 ing, and was received with shouts of applause. 
 
 The drop-curtain represented children engaged in a variety of 
 frolics, one of which was giving a clyster to a cat. I have some 
 doubts as to the propriety of mentioning these sights, but as those 
 who take their children to this " reward of merit" will find such 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 191 
 
 scenes are prominently displayed, it is but well that they should 
 be forewarned. They are specimens of those anomalous ex- 
 hibitions, so often met with in France, to the disgust of those 
 whose education has not prepared them to overlook in the ridicu- 
 lous what is really loathsome. The plays lasted until eleven 
 o'clock, and were succeeded by a distribution, by the young gen- 
 tleman who played the part of Puss, of numerous bon-bons, toys, 
 and bouquets, among the juvenile audience, who appeared to 
 enjoy the scramble and their prizes more than any thing else. 
 It is hardly necessary to observe that none of these infants get to 
 crib before midnight, though sleep had had for not a few more 
 charms than even the wonderful cat. 
 
 The love for spectacles, thus eaily fostered, begets a patience 
 in riper years which to a " go-ahead" Yankee would be a physical 
 impossibility. Those who purchase their tickets in the morning 
 are required to pay about one fifth more than the evening rates. 
 Consequently, the economical take their chance at the opening 
 of the doors. To secure a place, on the performance of any 
 attractive piece, it is necessary to go early and " faire la queue," 
 literally to make tail, or stand in a line until the ticket-office 
 opens. The arrangements at all public places are perfect in 
 the respect of order. There is no crowding, either in the line or 
 office ; only a few are admitted together, and when served, the 
 sentinel passes in as many more. I have known individuals to 
 stand six hours in these " queues" awaiting their turn. 
 
 The most amusing theatre is the Montansier at the Palais 
 Royal. None is better known among the bloods of Paris, for it 
 is here some of the most celebrated mistresses make their debuts 
 gratuitously, or even paying a bonus to the director for the privi- 
 lege of exhibiting their attractions and making their market 
 among the connoisseurs in female charms. Young girls who 
 are carefully educated are x&ot allowed to visit this, or its rival, 
 the Vaudeville. 
 
192 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 The pervading character of the pieces enacted upon the French 
 stage is loose and corrupting. There are annually brought out 
 between two and three hundred new plays. They are calculated 
 to increase the prevailing sentiment of ridicule toward a deceived 
 husband, and to enlist the sympathies in the success of the in- 
 triguing of either sex. They also pander grossly to the taste for 
 "double entendre" and wanton exposure of the female person. 
 Indeed, in this last respect, the ballet corps use the light cos- 
 tume, in which they exhibit their " poetry of motion," simply as 
 an attractive auxiliary to their next to nude figures. Constantly 
 there are sights and allusions which few American female cheeks 
 could witness untinged, but which fail to produce a correspond- 
 ing emotion among the ladies of this metropolis. There are ex- 
 ceptions to this censure, and among them I could name three 
 of the most successful pieces of the winter : " La Mariage de 
 Victorine," by George Sand, in which the charming Rose Cheri 
 appears at the Gymnase ; " Mdlle. de la Sagliere," by Sandeau ; 
 and "Diane," a tale of Richelieu, both of which enjoy, successful 
 runs at the Fran9aise. 
 
 In two respects Yankee managers and shop-keepers can re- 
 ceive useful hints from the French stage. The first, is in the 
 excellent arrangement of lights, by the glare of which the eyes 
 of the audience are not blinded as in the United States ; the 
 second, is in the use of the drop-curtain for an illustrated adver- 
 tising sheet, a sort of mammoth directory, from which the play- 
 goers can derive information as to the sources of supply for al- 
 most every want human flesh has inherited. The curtain in 
 this manner produces an income to the manager, and is orna- 
 mental enough for all scenic purposes. 
 
 The poison of the French stage is the more subtle from being 
 united with so much that is captivating to the senses and grati- 
 fying to the intellect. That I am not alone in this judgment, 
 the following extract from a late newspaper will show : " The 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 193 
 
 President of the Republic has approved of a decree by the ex- 
 Minister of the Interior, M. L. Faucher, dated October 12, by 
 which it is decided, in order to attempt to remove the complaints 
 made of the immoral and dangerous political tendency, and the 
 literary imperfection of a great number of theatrical pieces, that 
 the following prizes shall be annually given : A sum of five 
 thousand francs to the author of a successful dramatic work in 
 four or five acts, in prose or verse, represented at the Theatre 
 Francais, and which shall be moral in character and brilliant 
 in execution. A sum of three thousand francs, to a piece of the 
 like character, of less than four acts, represented with success at 
 the same theatre. A sum of five thousand francs to the author 
 of the work in four or five acts, in prose or verse, represented 
 wdth success at any theatre m Paris, or even if given for the 
 first time in a provincial theatre, ' which shall be of a nature to 
 serve in the instruction of the laboring classes, by the propaga- 
 tion of sound ideas, and the spectacle of good examples.' A sum 
 of three thousand francs to .the author of any such piece of less 
 than four acts, represented with success in any Parisian or pro- 
 vincial theatre. A commission, consisting of the Director of the 
 Department of Fine Arts, of four members of the Academy, and 
 of four members of the Commission of the Theatres, is to make 
 a report on the pieces to be recompensed, and the minister is to 
 choose the author from the list it is to present. The funds are 
 to be taken from the subvention of the Theatre Fran9ais, and 
 from the budget of the Fine Arts." It will be noticed that 
 politics, quite as much as morals, are at the bottom of this effort 
 to remedy the evil. 
 
 The " Patrie" of April 20th contained the following paragraph. 
 " This morning the directors of the theatres of Paris were con- 
 voked by the Minister of the Interior. The minister had assem- 
 bled them to express the intentions of the government, in respect 
 to the lamentable tendencies of the present dramatic literature." 
 
 1 
 
194 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 " In a few and concise words the minister explained how he 
 understood the mission of the theatre and its influence upon 
 manners, and he announced to the directors his resolution, firmly 
 expressed, not to suffer longer upon the stage any work of a 
 nature to excite the passions and corrupt the public mind." 
 
 To sustain the unrivaled representations of the Grand Opera, 
 the government gives annually, about $176,000 ; to the Italiens, 
 $10,000 ; to the Opera Comique, about $50,000, and to the 
 Theatre Fran^ais nearly an equal amount — making upward of 
 $280,000 to support these schools of "taste and good language." 
 
 In 1600 there was but one theatre at Paris, in 1791 there 
 were fifty-one, in 1807 the number had decreased to thirty-three, 
 which were further reduced by Napoleon to eight, compensation 
 being made to those closed. Now there are four operas and 
 twenty-five theatres, capable of accommodating thirty thousand 
 spectators, beside eight circuses, that hold thirty-one thousand. 
 These last are open only during the warmer months. Add to 
 this list nine musical halls for concerts, sixteen for winter balls, 
 eight gardens for summer balls, and a variety of dioramas, pano- 
 ramas, and georamas, independent of the legion of ambulatory 
 shows, and it will be conceded that the national taste has ample 
 resources for its gratification. 
 
 From 1807 to 1811 the annual receipts of the theatres aver- 
 aged $920,000. In 1847 they reached, $1,920,000 ; in 1848, 
 $1,120,000; in 1849, $1,220,000; and in 1850, $1,180,000. 
 These sums are reported to the government, but it is believed 
 they are underrated, as eight per cent, of their receipts is re- 
 quired for charitable purposes. In 1849 the places of amuse- 
 ment contributed to the hospitals and charitable institutions of 
 the city $88,000. The number of actors and singers in Paris is 
 estimated at two thousand and thirty-three, who average but 
 $350 per annum, which, without other resources, must leave 
 the majority in a condition approaching to penury. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 195 
 
 The subsidy granted to the Theatre Fran^ais is to counter- 
 act any decline of the public taste, and to preserve a school for 
 the classic productions of French dramatic literature. Here are 
 enacted the delightful comedies of Moliere and the refined trage- 
 dies of Corneille and Racine, in a manner worthy of the genius 
 of those authors. The part is given with such a fidehty of de- 
 tail in costume and character, that the grave seems literally to 
 give up its dead, who walk and speak among us as they did in 
 life. True to nature and tradition in their minutest points, it 
 may be questioned whether the vivid exposition of the brilliant 
 corruption of the Court of Louis XV., reproducing, as in Adrienne, 
 le Couvreur, scenes of intrigue gilded by the high-toned gal- 
 lantry of the language of love of that era, is not demoralizing to 
 the youth of the present day. This favorite play of Scribe's 
 is founded upon the unfortunate passion of Adrienne, the first 
 actress of France, for Maurice of Saxony, the most illustrious 
 warrior of his age. It is a scandalous development of intrigue, 
 pride, lust, revenge, and murder, unrelieved by better sentiments, 
 unless the love of Adrienne for Maurice may bear this character. 
 It is her fate, poisoned by her treacherous rival the Duchess of 
 Bouillon, rather than her love, that excites the sympathy of the 
 spectators. Rachel fills her role, and in the dying scene is so true 
 to nature, that death itself might mistake the feint for reality. 
 
 In one act the Theatre Franfaise is itself rolled back in history 
 to 1730, and its green-room and side scenes turned toward the 
 spectators. There appears in review, as in life, the theatrical 
 stars of that day, with their train of noble friends, engaged in the 
 scandalous pleasures of that corrupt epoch, and which in any, 
 are better for all concerned with the curtain down than up. 
 Among those who have the freedom of the green room is a 
 reverend abbe, lover and retailer of scandal of the Duchess of 
 Bouillon. He plays a part in his sacred habit by no means 
 edifying to the friends of religion. 
 
196 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND TRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 The audience at this theatre, as may be supposed, is composed 
 of the elite of the lovers of the dramatic art ; for it is here alone 
 that Mile. Rachel by her genius revives the ancient glories of 
 the great masters of French tragedy. I am told she is preparing 
 herself to appear in the characters of Shakspeare. Her powers, 
 great as they are, must eventually succomb to the life of dis- 
 sipation and excitement which she leads. On the stage her 
 action flashes like lightning. Her tone and gesture are fierce, 
 quick, and startling. They electrify, but fail to excite sympathy. 
 In one of her stormy passages, she was so carried away by her 
 simulated passion, that she brought her foot down upon the 
 stage-lights, crushing the glass chimneys and scattering them all 
 around. She did not notice the accident, and the audience gave 
 her a unanimous burst of applause. 
 
 To my judgment, she appears to refine upon the emotions of 
 the heart, as did Le Notre upon nature in gardens. She aston- 
 ishes, but leaves no permanent impression beyond wonder at her 
 art. Yet it is in the overstrained expression of the sentiments 
 and passions, as in the stifi^ trimming of trees and prescribing right 
 angles to vegetation, that French taste finds its highest gratifica- 
 tion. 
 
 The stage in France dates its origin as far back as 1402. Few 
 who witness its present scenes would suppose that it owed its 
 origin, if not directly, to the clergy, at least to the attempt to rep- 
 resent in public the mysteries of the life of Christ. Such how- 
 ever, is the fact. The first theatre, was in Trinity Hospital, E,ue 
 St. Denis, a street that takes its name from the saint who is said 
 to have walked through it after his execution, with his head 
 under his arm, seeking a spot to his taste for a grave. He chose 
 that which has since become the site of the Abbey of St. Denis. 
 As an unbeliever remarked, the only difficulty would be in the 
 jirU step. 
 
 In the same street, says Froissart, upon the entrance of Isabella 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 197 
 
 of Bavaria, there was exhibited at the gate of the Painters, a 
 representation of heaven, with numerous and brilliant stars ; the 
 Almighty sitting on his throne in Majesty, with his Son and the 
 Holy Spirit, surrounded by innumerable angels. The queen 
 passed under the gate of paradise, from which descended two 
 angels, who presented to her a costly crown, chanting at the 
 same time this verse — 
 
 " Dame enclose entre fleurs de lys, 
 Reine etes vous de Paradis, 
 De Erance et de tout le pays, 
 Nous retournons en Paradis." 
 
 Louis XL, on his state entrance, was greeted with a different 
 sight. He was welcomed at the fountain Ponceau by three 
 beautiful girls, entirely naked, in the attitude of sirens. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE ORNAMENTAL VS. THE USEFUL. 
 
 Frenchmen claim for the Place de la Concorde the enviable 
 distinction of being the most beautiful public square in the world. 
 The view from the foot of the obelisk of Luxor, justifies their 
 pretensions. On the Eastern side are the attractive gardens of 
 the Tuileries, extending to the palace ; on the west, the more 
 rural Champs Elysees, and the noblest of avenues, reaching to 
 the Arch of Triumph, which is shortly to be crowned with a 
 colossal chariot and four steeds in honor of Napoleon. The 
 Madeleine and the beautiful palaces of the ministers, form its 
 northern boundaries, and on the south, separated from it by the 
 Seine, with its magnificent quays and graceful bridges, are the 
 Hotel d'Orsay, the Palais Bourbon, and the new Palace of the 
 Minister of Foreign Affairs; the "tout ensemble" forming an 
 unrivalled " coup d'oeil" of architectural beauty. On a clear 
 night, with the stars overhead, and the innumerable lights be- 
 neath, extending in long vistas on all sides, the effect is magical. 
 
 My object in alluding to this square is not to attempt to de- 
 scribe it, but to call attention to the extraordinary efforts made 
 by the government to render Paris as distinguished for its archi- 
 tecture as for its museums. As the capital of civilization, the 
 aim is to make it worthy of its title in point of embellishment. 
 In this respect all governments concur, and none have made 
 more lavish expenditure than those which have emanated more 
 directly from the people. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 199 
 
 I will name some of the more recent expenses to show at 
 what cost this policy is pursaed by a government already in debt 
 $1,083,500,000, on which they pay an annual interest of 
 $67,000,000 : 
 
 The Hotel de Ville, palace of the city government, has 
 
 cost 88,000,000 
 
 The Triumphal Arch of the Champs Elysees 2,086,400 
 
 " " " Place Carrousel 280,000 
 
 The labor on the Column Vendome — Russia and Austria 
 
 contributed the bronze at the battle of Austerlitz. . 300,000 
 
 Embellishments of the Place de la Concorde 300,000 
 
 " " and Improvements in progress of the 
 
 Place Carrousel (estimated) 2,000,000 
 
 Alterations and Improvements of the Palace of Justice. 2,000,000 
 
 Palace d'Orsay 2,270,000 
 
 Hotel of Minister of Foreign Affairs (incomplete) 2,500,000 
 
 Central Market and Improvements — government esti- 
 mate to cost 4,000,000 
 
 To connect the Tuileries with the Louvre, ordered by 
 
 Louis Napoleon ; to cost 5,134,000 
 
 Repairs of the Abbey St. Denis — unfinished 3,600,000 
 
 Spent on the Palace and Museum of Versailles, by Louis 
 
 Philippe 5,000,000 
 
 Decorations of the Louvre — (of this $215,000 were spent 
 
 in the ornaments of one hall) 400,000 
 
 Column of July 240,000 
 
 Total $38,1 10,400 
 
 Napoleon during his reign expended $27,000,000 in embel- 
 lishing Paris. 
 
 The expenditure of sums like the above for objects chiefly 
 decorative, in one city, by a government so largely in debt, 
 clearly demonstrates that the gratification of taste is more consid- 
 ered than either mere utility or economy. This species of dis- 
 bursement belongs rather to royalty than republicanism. The 
 former has nurtured in the people a love of display, which the 
 latter is compelled to gratify. 
 
200 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 Paris expended nearly $100,000 on every republican May fete ; 
 or nearly half as much on a day's amusement as on her primary 
 schools for a year ; while four theatres actually receive an equal 
 sum. 
 
 The annual cost of the Legion of Honor, which gives 50,000 
 individuals the privilege of wearing publicly red ribbons in their 
 button-holes, is $1,600,000. The yearly cost of the Paris Pre- 
 fecture of Police is $1,680,000. Upward of $11,000,000 are 
 disbursed every year in pensions. The yearly expenses of the 
 Army and Navy are nearly $100,000,000 ; for public buildings, 
 &c., $15,000,000, and for public instruction for the 18,000,000 
 youth of France, $3,400,000. Louis Napoleon, since he has as- 
 sumed the supreme power, has increased the expenses of the 
 army, public buildings, and his own disbursements as Chief of 
 the State, upward of $7,000,000, while the budget for public 
 instruction has been decreased nearly 2,000,000 of francs. He 
 has appropriated 50,000 francs for the purchase of busts of him- 
 self These sums show the relative importance of the objects in 
 the eyes of the government. . No expense is spared in the educa- 
 tion of a soldier in the art of war. The present army of France 
 is probably the most efficient in the world. This army is, how- 
 ever, considered more necessary as a protection to the govern- 
 ment against its own citizens than against foreign powers. It 
 affords the conclusive evidence, that the people of France who 
 are not the friends of a monarchy, are ranged under the banner 
 of revolution. This will ever be the case where authority relies 
 upon force to control, rather than education to enlighten ig- 
 norance. 
 
 Another fact speaks volumes. The entire number of the youth 
 of France receiving education in 1850, above that of elementary 
 knowledge, was but a fraction over 92,000, while 394 prisons 
 contained 66,000 prisoners, or one three-hundreth part of the 
 adult population. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 201 
 
 No government can be really republican that sanctions ex- 
 penditures so inconsistent with democratic economy. "Where the 
 people control their own expenses, they keep constantly in view, 
 tliat every disbursement calls for a proportionate contribution 
 from their pockets. Hence utility, and not display, becomes 
 their standard. The people of the United States are lavish in 
 support of education, because it is the basis of their republic. 
 In France, the government are equally lavish for the army, be- 
 cause upon it depends their existence. 
 
 Another point in which there is an equal difference between 
 the fundamental principles of the two nations, is the substitution 
 of the ornamental for the useful. The lust of the eye is of para- 
 mount consideration to the comfort of the body. This is mani- 
 fested by all classes of society, from the domestic who spends a 
 third of her earnings in caps and ribbons, to the princely propri- 
 etors of hotels, who decorate a single saloon at the expense of 
 $200,000. A Frenchman dines upon two francs that he may 
 spend eight at the theatre. He lives in a garret that he may be 
 a dandy in the street. He gilds his apartments and furniture to 
 such an extent, that he appears literally to occupy a golden pa- 
 lace ; yet, in many items of actual convenience, he is content to 
 be far in the rear of ordinary households in America. He is as 
 much inferior in the useful and unpretending mechanical arts of 
 the United States, as he is in advance in all that appertains to 
 ornament. In most French houses one seeks in tam for the con- 
 veniences of bathing-rooms, good closets, ample kitchens, econo- 
 mical fire-places, nice fitting doors, or easy and ingenious locks 
 and door handles. In lieu of these we find numberless looking- 
 glasses, clocks, bronzes, candelabras, furniture dore, and sump- 
 tuous curtains. This species of extravagance has become a gen- 
 eral tax upon the community. It enters into the price of all 
 articles consumed. Many of the shops so greatly admired are 
 decorated at an expense of upward of $60,000 each. Nothing 
 
202 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 can exceed the taste and neatness displayed in the arrattgement 
 and packages of all descriptions of merchandise. The shop win- 
 dows divide with the galleries of the Louvre the public admira- 
 tion. Even in wood-yards the fuel is piled so as to form a spe- 
 cies of mosaic work. A turkey which in the market can be 
 bought for two dollars, by the time it has passed through the 
 epicurean hands of a Palais Royal restaurateur, and attained the 
 honor of a place among the costly delicacies of his window, 
 mounts to the price of twenty-four dollars, and, for American 
 appetite, is actually a much less desirable morsel than in its 
 original state. 
 
 Fruits are now 300 to 500 per cent dearer than in 1800. 
 Fish have acquired a three-fold value. Coal the same. Rents 
 have nearly doubled, and general expenses have increased fifty 
 per cent. The present government has given a fresh impetus to 
 this extravagance, by the re-establishment of titles, and the re- 
 vival of the etiquette of the Imperial court, with its costly decor- 
 ations and profuse salaries. The attendant expenses undoubt- 
 edly contribute to the prosperity of certain branches of trade ; 
 $10,000 are sometimes expended in Paris on flowers alone, on 
 the occasion of a fete ; but it is the people at large on whom the 
 burden of the governmental prodigality falls. 
 
 The average annual expenditure of each inhabitant of Paris 
 some years since, and which probably has not varied much since, 
 was about $204, of which the chief items were — 
 
 Rent $18 
 
 Wine and brandy 18 
 
 Food 49 
 
 Clothing 9 
 
 Charities 2:25 
 
 Amusements 2 
 
 Newspapers 50 
 
 Taxes 26 : 50 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 203 
 
 At the present time the cost of the following articles in Paris 
 is as follows. Tea per lb. $1,25. Coffee 48 cents — sugar 17 
 cents. Milk per quart, 6 cents. Eggs per dozen, 24 cents. 
 Common meat by law 14 cents. Good beef 30 cents per pound 
 and upward. Wood per cord, $10. Bad coal per ton, $8 to 10. 
 The best claret, $17 per dozen. Champagne $6 to $15. 
 
 At these prices it is evident that the laboring class, whose aver- 
 age of wages is not sixty cents per day, fare very differently from 
 artisans in the United States, to whom each one of these articles, 
 excepting wines, is considered as an absolute necessary of life. 
 
 Salt until recently paid to the State annually from five to ten 
 millions of dollars. The land taxes fall more heavily upon the 
 peasantry than upon the rich proprietors. Sugars are taxed 
 $14,500,000, and the duties levied on articles of necessity con- 
 sumed in Paris, in addition to the State taxation, amount to 
 $6,500,000 per annum. Doors and windows pay $625,000, 
 city tax. 
 
 Paris proper has a population of more than a million souls 
 including sixty-thousand strangers. Of these, 160,000 are 
 either rich or earn more than sufficient for their wants. 800,000 
 are in an unsatisfactory or wretched condition. 150,000 are con- 
 stantly in the hospitals or receiving charity from other sources. 
 Each of the above 800,000 is supported by benevolence on an 
 average two years out of thirty-five, their average existence. 
 There is one indigent person to every 12| inhabitants. There 
 are 64,816 master workmen, and 342,530 work people, includ- 
 ing 240,000 men, 112,000 women, and 26,530 children. The 
 average wages of the men 75 cents a day ; of the women 33 
 cents. There are 80,000 domestics, who average less than 
 20 cents. The worst paid workmen are the cotton-spinners, who 
 gain only from 20 to 40 cents a day. Women, often not over 
 15 cents. The daily cost of food to journeymen is from 20 to 30 
 cents, and of lodging, from $1 to $1 : 25 per month. 
 
204 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FEENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 The lodgings of the poorest class are of the most wretched 
 description. The proprietor frequently provides nothing but 
 straw or rags for beds, and no other furniture. The chambers 
 are unventilated, uncleaned, and crowded with the miserable 
 and depraved of both sexes, who pay as dearly for these filthy 
 lodgings as for those with some pretensions to comfort. Those 
 V\^ho pay from five to eight francs per month are entitled to a 
 dish of soup each evening, and to have a shirt washed once a 
 week. 
 
 The figures of the saving's banks show that one workman out 
 of five deposits something each year, and of domestics one in two. 
 Sums as small as a franc are received. 
 
 In all France there are 4,500,000 paupers, and four million 
 bordering upon this condition. 
 
 For some years past the elements of a statistical account of 
 pauperism and public charitable establishments have been col- 
 lecting at the offices of the department of the Interior, under 
 the direction of an inspector general. There exist 1133 ad- 
 ministrations of hospitals and benevolent institutions established 
 in 1130 communes. The departments which have the greatest 
 number are the Vaucluse, Yar, Haut-E-hin, Nord, Seine-et-Oise, 
 and Bouches-du-Rhone ; those which have the fewest are the 
 Seine, the Hautes-Alpes, Corsica, the Hautes-Pyrenees, the Haute- 
 Saone, and the Tarn. The department of the Seine has only 
 two hospital administrations, but one of them — that of Paris — 
 is so considerable from the immense revenues at its disposal, by 
 the number of establishments which it directs, and by the num- 
 ber of poor which it assists, that it reckons for a fifth part of the 
 hospital assistance given in the whole of France. From 1800 
 to 1845 the amount of donations and legacies officially made to 
 the poor was not less than 122 millions, exclusive of sums given 
 direct and authorized by the prefects. The venal value of the 
 productive estates of the hospitals and almshouses is estimated 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 205 
 
 at five hundred millions. They have also large revenues de- 
 rived from other sources, such as the duty on the receipts of the 
 theatres, grants from the communes, &c. The most considera- 
 ble revenues of the hospital administrations are those of Paris, 
 which are about 12,690,823f ; of Lyons, 2,279, 990f; of Rouen, 
 l,13G,908f ; and of Marseilles, l,069,257f The food of the 
 poor stands for a sum of 22,191,141f , of which the charge for 
 wheat or bread is nearly one half The number of beds in the 
 hospitals and almshouses in France is 126,142, of which there 
 are 15,353 in the department of the Seine. The number of 
 patients in the hospitals in 1847 was 486,083, and in the alms- 
 houses 77,053. 
 
 In 1848 the destitution of a portion of the working classes in 
 Paris M^as so great that having sold all their clothing for bread, 
 they were obliged to lie a-bed during the day, or borrow from 
 some less unfortunate the necessary clothes to go into the streets 
 to seek employment. 
 
 There exists all over France, under the direction of the govern* 
 ment, to the number of forty-five, five of which lend gratuitously, 
 the useful establishments of Monts de Piete, institutions where 
 the poor and needy can pawn their eflects on certain fixed rates 
 of interest, and at fairly apprized values. Their establishment, 
 like that of so many hospitals, is a striking evidence of the ne- 
 cessitous condition of the poorer classes. During periods of great 
 public misery they return, free of interest, all articles pledged not 
 exceeding, say, ten francs value, consisting of indispensable tools, 
 furniture, clothing, &c. In 1847 the Mont de Piete received 
 3,400,087 articles valued at nearly $10,000,000, Paris alone 
 doing more than half the business. One half the loans are for 
 sums varying from twenty cents to one dollar. 
 
 I have collected these data from official reports. I leave to 
 the political economists to solve the connection between the de- 
 plorable condition of the lower classes and the profuse expendi- 
 
206 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 ture and heavy taxes of the government. My readers will, I am 
 sure, agree with me, that it is not from such materials, and 
 from such a policy of government, that republicanism can germ- 
 inate. Yet 7,500,000 voters have sanctioned the return to the 
 extravagance of Imperial rule, after having witnessed, in 1850, 
 under a nominal republic, a saving of $35,500,000, when com- 
 pared with the disbursement of the last year of the reign of Louis 
 Philippe. The people feel their burdens, but are still blind both 
 to the true causes and remedy. On the ground of their pernicious 
 influence, Louis Napoleon has suppressed the chairs of Political 
 Economy in the colleges of France. The only doctrine now 
 allowed to come before the people, is, that the luxury of the rich, 
 and the expenditure of the government, are essential sources of 
 welfare to the nation at large. When it can be shown that fast 
 living benefits the constitution of the individual, or that public 
 extravagance is of more value to a nation than private economy, 
 then, but not till then, will the virtue of the present financial 
 policy of France be discovered. Unhappily, there is an agent far 
 more direct and active in the degradation of the nation than either 
 taxation or extravagance. No one who has made a tour of 
 curiosity around the "octroi " wall of Paris can have failed to make 
 the discovery. Here, for at least three days in the week, he will 
 find from 20,000 to 30,000 of the most dissolute of both sexes 
 occupied in drinking and debauchery of the worst kind in tem- 
 porary liquor shops. 
 
 The increase of licensed retailers of wines and spirits through- 
 out France has been rapid since 1830. Then, there existed but 
 250,000. Now there are upward of 350,000, an increase of 
 100,000 in twenty years, and of 20,000 during the last three 
 years, under the Republic. This augmentation has been among 
 the lowest class of cabarets, of which there has been an increase 
 of 70,000 within nineteen years, paying a license of only six francs 
 each. Were Beelzebub permitted to select an agent for the 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 207 
 
 demoralization of humanity, he could not find one better adapted 
 to his purpose than that which is sanctioned by the govenmrient 
 of France. That I may not be accused of exaggerating the evil 
 influence of the licensed dram-shops, I quote the following from 
 the work of M. Villerme, upon the physical and moral condition 
 of the working classes. The description he gives refers to the cab- 
 arets of the quarter Etaques at Lille : 
 
 " I could have wished," says Villerme, "to have entered the 
 places, where I have seen through the doors and windows, across 
 a cloud of tobacco smoke, crowds of people, agitated like the in- 
 habitants of an ant-hill ; but it was evident that notwithstanding 
 the precaution I had taken to disguise myself in a manner not to 
 create suspicion, my appearance among them would have created 
 surprise if not violence. A great number stood, from want of 
 room to sit down. All drank the detestable corn brandy or beer. 
 I heard even children utter the vilest obscenities. I can affirm, 
 that I have never seen at once so much pollution, misery, and 
 vice, and nowhere under an aspect more hideous and revolting " 
 
 Li Paris it is estimated there are 17,000 habitual drunkards, 
 of the most brutal character. The mayor of Paimpol, in his 
 official report, says : " I affirm that the greater part of the paupers 
 of this toAvn owe their misery to the excess of drinks, particularly 
 brandy ; that almost all the disorders and crimes which have 
 come before me, have been committed by persons either drunk or 
 given to intoxication." 
 
 Such evidences should destroy the common delusion, that, be- 
 cause light wines are cheap in France, intoxication is rare. 
 Brandies of the most deleterious nature are equally cheap, and 
 more generally used. 
 
 The government actually encourages the consumption of ardent 
 spirits by public lectures. M. Payen, member of the Academy 
 of Sciences, in his fifth lecture on Public Health, says : " Brandy 
 in itself constitutes a beverage, either very dangerous or very 
 
208 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 beneficial. Alcohol, taken pure, is a violent poison ; mixed, on 
 the contrary, with water, it is an extremely healthful drink." 
 ("Une boisson extremement salubre.") 
 
 In the department of the North there are nearly 18,000 dram- 
 shops, averaging one to every sixty-four inhabitants. So says 
 the " Constitutionnel" of the 10th of May ult. 
 
 There are some facts relative to French productive industry 
 not without interest. The manufactures of Paris of all kinds 
 produce yearly merchandise to the value of $268,000,000. Of 
 the minor articles, which find their way to every quarter of the 
 globe, we find the amounts as follow : Infants' toys, $800,000 ; 
 buttons, $1,200,000 ; canes and whips, $600,000 ; fans, 
 $600,000 ; artificial flowers, $2,200,000 ; gloves, $2,800,000 ; 
 umbrellas, $1,400,000 ; perfumery, $2,000,000 ; pianos, 
 $2,200,000 ; memorandum-books, $1,200,000 ; corsets (of which 
 1,200,000 are annually exported), $3,000,000 ; baby, table, and 
 toilet linen, to the fineness of which the French ladies attach 
 even more importance than to the quality of their silks and satins, 
 $5,400,000. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 EDUCATION SOCIALISM. 
 
 I BROUGHT my children with me to Paris under the belief that 
 I should find for them superior advantages of education to what 
 exist in the United States. As I shared this opinion with many- 
 others, it may not be amiss to give the results of my experience, 
 for the consideration of those who desire to educate American 
 youth in France. 
 
 Having a son and daughter I was prompted to examine into 
 the system pursued toward both sexes. Of the seclusion and 
 restraint, and the effects of sexual isolation I have already 
 spoken. 
 
 For a girl, the choice was only between an entirely home 
 education or boarding schools of the most exclusive kind. The 
 former is the course in general pursued by the best families. It 
 renders education much more expensive than in the United 
 States. But by it the evils attending the latter are avoided. 
 
 Boys are sent to boarding schools or the seminaries under the 
 supervision of government, where the discipline is rigid and the 
 exclusion of external influences as complete as stone walls and 
 watchful guardians can render it. Teachers sleep with them, 
 watch them at table, are with them during their play hours, 
 and they are never allowed to leave the walls of their seminaries 
 without their presence ; in short, they make themselves the 
 pupils' shadows. The rule is never to leave them alone on any 
 occasion, and the strictest watch is held over the servants and 
 
210 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 porters lest they should connive at procuring forbidden indul- 
 gences from outside the walls. If the tutors were of irreproach- 
 able morals this system would work better than it does ; but 
 when it is considered that frequently in what is called a fashion- 
 able school, they receive salaries of not over $100 per annum, no 
 very lofty qualifications of either character or attainments should 
 be expected. They are as likely to be the accomplices as the 
 preventives of the pupils in their attempts at mischief or de- 
 pravity. It is no uncommon event to find that those youths who 
 have been most zealously watched, even in the least exception- 
 able of these establishments, have acquired sufficient address to 
 convince their anxious parents that they are as innocent of even 
 the knowledge of evil as babes, while they are in reality adepts 
 not only in theory but practice of what their mothers least wish 
 them to know. The American system undoubtedly allows too 
 much latitude to youth, particularly in not subjecting them to 
 wholesome discipline, but it preserves them from systematic 
 hypocrisy and fixed habits of falsehood. 
 
 If education were simply the acquisition of general knowledge, 
 the sciences, classics, or accomplishments, the American parent 
 would find the institutions of France unexcelled by those of any 
 other country. In the solid and ornamental branches they fur- 
 nish for both sexes every desirable advantage. Intellectual 
 knowledge is, however, but one part of education. Without 
 principle it becomes the worst foe of society ; with principle, its 
 best ally. I do not mean to be understood as implying that the 
 morals are neglected. On the contrary, they are rigidly cared 
 for after the French standard. But this in my judgment is one 
 cause of the unfitness of the nation for the republicanism of the 
 school of "Washington. After an attentive examination into their 
 system of education for youth, I ami decidedly of the opinion that 
 if American parents wish to rear a generation of American chil- 
 dren, they by far had better intrust them, both for their morals, 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 211 
 
 and the principles which are to be their guides in civil life, to 
 the public schools of their own country, rather than to the high- 
 est seminaries of France. I have seen the results of this nurture 
 in too lamentable shapes to come to any other conclusion than, 
 that, while it rarely is calculated to make an American success- 
 ful abroad, it is quite sure to destroy his capacity for patriot- 
 ism at home. Dissatisfied with the genius of his native country 
 as being adverse to his acquired taste, he finds himself, as it 
 were, expatriated, without the solace of being nationalized else- 
 where. American citizens can best be reared amid American 
 institutions. 
 
 Corporeal punishment being entirely done away with, French 
 teachers are as much at a loss for a substitute to preserve disci- 
 pline as are our worthy reformists in the navy. They resort to 
 a multitude of penances, the most efficacious of which is perhaps 
 imprisonment ; but their general aim is to create shame or mor- 
 tification. They seek to arouse emulation by a graduated system 
 of rewards, which results in the early development of a passion 
 for prizes and decorations. This is pushed to such an extent 
 that the bauble often becomes the substitute for the principle, 
 and the vanity of display takes the place of love of knowl- 
 edge. These " rewards of merit" are coveted with an eagerness 
 by all classes that to their graver neighbors savors of child- 
 ishness. Hence, through every department of society, they are 
 distributed with a profusion that elsewhere would destroy their 
 value. 
 
 Boys who are not yet emancipated from frocks are to be seen 
 with decorations attached to their breasts, treading in the foot- 
 steps of the legiondaries of Honor, whose ribbons, crosses, and 
 grand crosses are to be met at every step in the street. The 
 acquisition of a ribbon or a medal would be a penance to a 
 Frenchman if he could not display it. If this innocent vanity 
 be a spur to worthy actions, it is undoubtedly to be cherished in 
 
212 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 default of a better motive. The Legion of Honor already num- 
 bers upward of 50,000 members, and scarcely a day passes with- 
 out additions to its ranks. A recent calculation gives a decora- 
 tion to one individual in every ten in France. 
 
 The history of French Exhibitions of Manufactures and Arts 
 shows to what a ridiculous extent the distribution of prizes is 
 pursued. Indeed, they are so general, that merit becomes equal- 
 ized, and in the end they will be of no more value as an evidence 
 of truth than the certificate of a seller of pills. The ratio of in- 
 crease has been rapid. In 1798 of the one hundred and ten ex- 
 hibitions in the Champ de Mars only twenty-three, or a little 
 more than a fifth, had prizes. In 1801 there was distributed 
 one prize to every three exhibitors. The succeeding year it 
 rose to one to every two. In 1823 the proportions were two 
 prizes to every three persons. Each succeeding exhibition fol- 
 lowed the same policy, until the prizes have nearly caught up 
 with the exhibitors, the last on record being 3253 prizes to 3960 
 exhibitors. Much complaint ensued at the awards of the com- 
 missioners of the London Exhibition in 1851, although France 
 received sixty recompenses for every one hundred exhibitors, 
 while England was only in the ratio of twenty-nine to every one 
 hundred, and all other nations but eighteen. 
 
 Such is the effect of substituting in infancy the desire of arti- 
 ficial distinctions, for the more solid principle of action from the 
 simple sense of duty. It was with difficulty I could prevent one 
 of the most simple-hearted and. conscientious of professors from 
 bribing my children to learn their lessons. The perpetual argu- 
 ment is, " Do this, and you shall have that." 
 
 The vanity of display in dress is one of the earliest lessons 
 taught the infant. The Tuileries' garden, of a fair day, resem- 
 bles a bed of tulips. The children appear as if dressed for fash- 
 ion plates to a milliner's window. The really good taste dis- 
 played by their mothers in themselves, may spring from this 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 213 
 
 early education ; but when it exalts attitudes and frocks above 
 the more important training of the heart, it becomes a bad school 
 for any child. 
 
 That vanity becomes the ruling passion of the young girls is 
 readily seen, from the enthusiastic admiration with which they 
 greet any novel or striking toilet of their companions, and the 
 importance which they are taught to attach to the rules of fash- 
 ion. Their indulgences are all of a nature to foster this evil. 
 They are made up and trained as " show" children, or as toys ; 
 the praises they receive being bestowed upon their looks rather 
 than their conduct ; which, however, in the rules of politeness, 
 is in general unexceptionable. 
 
 There are public fancy balls every winter for children, at- 
 tended by all classes. The most select of these is that of the 
 " Jardin d'Hiver," which takes place just before Lent. On this 
 occasion, that beautiful and spacious winter garden is crowded to 
 excess. No expense is spared in making the fete rival the adult 
 balls. The toilets and costumes are as elaborate, varied, and 
 costly, as parental indulgence and means can create. The chil- 
 dren mingle in the dance with all the " abandon," and more 
 than half of the coquetry of older heads. I have seen urchins 
 that could just totter about, dressed in full fancy suits of pink 
 trousers and jackets, cap and feathers ; and little girls, mere 
 babies, for they were carried in arms, with their hair powdered, 
 their arms and necks loaded with valuable jewels, and their 
 bodies displaying in miniature the court toilets of the time of 
 Louis XIV. and his unworthy successor. Their elder brothers 
 and sisters exhibited every fashion and costume of Europe, since 
 the Middle Ages, and some that had no likeness to any thing, 
 either in the past or present. It was a pretty and animated 
 scene, but a deplorable stimulus to vanity and assurance. Each 
 child of more than ordinary attractions, was overwhelmed by tlie 
 public generally with compliments upon its beauty and charming 
 
214 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 attire, and taught to consider the eclat of its appearance as the 
 most important triumph of its life. 
 
 Some one, with more severity than truth, has said that all 
 children are by nature liars. The teacher of one of the best con- 
 ducted boarding-schools of Paris, who had several American chil- 
 dren under his charge, remarked that they were the only boys in 
 his establishment on whose word he could rely. Where appear- 
 ances are the chief aim of life, there must exist a corresponding 
 amount of deception. The material lie readily becomes the 
 moral lie. Truth is not placed upon its right foundation in the 
 young. How can it be when there is no reliance put in their 
 good faith ? The education of the children prepares the way for 
 those lies of convenience or etiquette so prevalent among the 
 adults. 
 
 The simple English yes, or no, has no weight in France. To 
 induce belief, adjurations are added, or a sort of sliding scale of 
 expressions, by which you are made to comprehend with what 
 degree of certainty you may rely upon any promise or assertion. 
 I shall never forget the expression of surprise with which a young 
 American girl, to whom falsehood was an unknown tongue, ex- 
 plained to me that her teacher required her to swear to keep a 
 promise ; and on another occasion, with mingled indignation and 
 astonishment, exclaiming, "my teacher tells lies." She had 
 detected some of those petty larcenies of truth which here would 
 not be called by so harsh a name. 
 
 Children are no casuists. They should be taught, by precept 
 and example, the plain rule, to tell the truth under all circum- 
 stances, and leave the consequences to take care of themselves. 
 The French habit arises not so much from evil design, as from a 
 desire either to convey pleasure, or to avoid giving pain. A phy- 
 sician deceives his patient to convey encouragement ; the trades- 
 man promises, to secure patronage ; gallantry is proverbial for its 
 falsehoods, and vanity must be fed upon lies. The domestic is 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FUENCH PRINCIPLES. 215 
 
 more ingenious in evasions than a Cretan ; and your friend will 
 never be frank at the expense of wounding your " amour-propre." 
 Suspicion is so disguised in the finesse of courtesy, that its sting 
 is scarcely felt ; while deception treads so lightly as barely to 
 leave a trail. Wherever manners and morals have their source 
 in the head, and not in the heart, this condition of things will 
 exist. Yet, it is impossible not to admire that exquisite tact, 
 which, in seeking a favor, seemingly confers an obligation. Per- 
 haps the most prolific source of falsehood arises from the wish, as 
 they express it, " pour faire plaisir," to give pleasure. A lady of 
 my acquaintance had an old domestic, in whom she placed great 
 confidence. She gave him an order one day, and, some time 
 after, asked him if he had attended to it. " Certainly, Madame ; 
 it is arranged as you wished." She afterward discovered that 
 he had not obeyed her, and asked him why he wished to deceive 
 her, as he well knew she preferred always to know the truth. 
 " Ah, Madame ; I told you so to give you pleasure — a little lie 
 does no harm." 
 
 In another respect have my opinions undergone a change since 
 my arrival in France. A republican myself, I sympathized with 
 all that bore the name. France, as a republic, was a country 
 to be loved as well as admired. But further acquaintance has 
 convinced me, that neither by genius, habits, nor education, are 
 Frenchmen republicans. Fifteen centuries of absolutism are no 
 preparative for republicanism ; and, were they to-morrow to be 
 governed by the constitution of the United States, they would 
 no more be republicans than would ducks be chickens, though 
 hatched under a hen. 
 
 Americans justly consider religion and education as the wells 
 whence they draw their republicanism. But it is religion and 
 education carried home to each individual. Not a pompous 
 ceremonial, to dazzle the eyes of the multitude, while it leaves 
 their hearts as cold as the marble altars it rears ; nor arts and 
 
216 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 sciences for the favored few ; but a vital principle, warming souls 
 into action, and a system that carries the elements of knowl- 
 edge to every fire-side. Exile from the United States the clergy, 
 blot out our common schools, and the next generation, ceas- 
 ing to be republicans, would become anarchists. Give French- 
 men the same education, not only of schools, but of the ballot- 
 box, and the popular forms of government, from village select- 
 men up to legislative assemblies, and you prepare them for re- 
 publicanism ; but, until a people have learned to govern them- 
 selves, they must be governed. 
 
 I have no need to recal the past, to prove that free principles 
 have never been firmly rooted in France. There have been con- 
 tinual struggles against oppression, and repeated contests for 
 power. Whichever gained the prize, prince or people, ruled with 
 the authority of a despot or the cruelty of a tyrant. Terrorism 
 has ever been the favorite weapon, because existence was only 
 insured by success. Those who gave no quarter, could expect 
 none ; and, thus, though there has been blood enough spilt in 
 France to regenerate a world, it has enriched no soil but that of 
 despotism. 
 
 The Fronde gave the Parisians Louis XIV. for a master, who 
 wrote to his loving subjects whenever it was necessary to elect a 
 
 pre vest — " We desire that you give your votes to Monsieur ;" 
 
 and the man of the court was elected. 
 
 The revolution of 1789, in its general destruction, swept away 
 a multitude of abuses. But the nation exchanged only one des- 
 potism for a greater, and gladly welcomed imperial rule to screen 
 them from their own. In 1848, they again essayed republican- 
 ism ; were well nigh engulfed in anarchy, and now have sought 
 safety and security in a dictator. 
 
 When history has given so many proofs of the incapacity of a 
 nation to be free, it is the part of wisdom, if she would remedy 
 the evil, to investigate the causes. One of these I believe to be 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 217 
 
 the Catholic rehgion ; which began by making the people bigots, 
 and ended in leaving them infidels. In requiring implicit faith 
 and obedience, it destroyed individual judgment and action. But 
 the cause which at present prevents republicanism is ignorance : 
 the actual ignorance of the masses, who, unable to read or reason for 
 themselves, are alternately the tools of the demagogue and despot. 
 Statistics will be found to sustain me in this opinion. The 
 population of France is 36,000,000. In her primary schools she 
 has 2,332,580 pupils, or the ratio of one-sixteenth of her popula- 
 tion, supported at an annual expense of $1,800,000, or an aver- 
 jtge to each pupil of about 75 cents. The State of New York, 
 in r851, expended on 726,291 pupils in her common schools, 
 $1,432,096, or an average of nearly $2 a-head for one-fourth of 
 her population, while she has a fund of $6,612,850 devoted to 
 purposes of education. The actual difference is, that while New 
 York expends twice and two-thirds as much on each pupil as 
 France, she educates her population also in the ratio of fourfold 
 in point of numbers. France expends more upon the tomb of 
 Napoleon than upon her entire " Ecoles Primaires;" and the city 
 of Paris, from 1800 to 1845, has spent at the Hotel de Ville, in 
 fetes to the several governments of France, $2,000,000 — a sum 
 sufficient to support its common schools, at the present rate of 
 appropriation, for fifteen years. Previous to 1830, the cost of 
 primary instruction in Paris Avas but $16,000 annually. Since 
 then it has been increased to $250,000, and the number of chil- 
 dren frequenting the schools is about 45,000, or one twenty-second 
 part of the population. In the colleges, institutions, and boarding- 
 schools of the city, there are 11,000 pupils, but these embrace the 
 elite of the youth from all parts of the country. The total num- 
 ber of pupils in the lyceums, colleges, and private institutions in 
 France, for 1850, was 92,231 ; making a total of 2,424,811 
 children only, out of the 18,000,000 in France, receiving any 
 degree of education. 
 
 K 
 
218 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 The military conscription shows, that out of every thousand 
 young men drawn, about 40 know how to read and write, 500 to 
 read only, and more than 400 have no instruction whatever. 
 
 Latterly the government has paid more attention to the estab- 
 lishment of primary schools ; but I am assured that the people 
 are not forward in educating their children. This arises, partly 
 from suspicion of the motives of the government, and partly from 
 necessity, which requires the incessant labor of all the members 
 of a family to procure the means of subsistence. The great cry 
 of the people is for work that will give them bread, and the ener- 
 gies of the authorities are greatly directed toward providing them 
 with labor. Luxury and extravagance are encouraged among 
 the rich, that the poor may live. Public works are prosecuted, 
 to prevent emeutes. The necessity for present relief is always so 
 urgent, that permanent improvement advances but slowly. The 
 government is ever in the position of a rider to a restless horse ; 
 if he relax the rein for a second he is thrown. There can be no 
 radical change in the character of the people until religion and 
 education combine to teach them the duties they owe to God and 
 man. While they remain half-starved, or fed like animals in a 
 cage — their highest aim a full stomach — they will chafe and 
 growl in their confinement. Louis XIV. expended $200,000,000 
 on one palace. That money devoted to education would have 
 kept Louis XVL on the throne, and advanced the civilization and 
 freedom of Europe a century. Versailles is the wonder of art ; 
 but France pays for it in the socialism of to-day. 
 
 In the United States, where the nice adjustment of counter- 
 balancing powers and general intelligence makes the political 
 machine move on quietly in its accustomed track, no adequate 
 conception can be formed of the evils to which France is exposed, 
 from the passions and ignorance of its laboring masses, misled by 
 unprincipled demagogues or conceited theorists. There is no 
 spirit of conciliation in French politics. A difference of views is 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FUENCH PRINCIPLES. 219 
 
 a war to the knife. Falsehood, force, treachery, and every kindred 
 weapon is employed to attain the desired end. The government 
 strangles liberty, as it alleges, that society may exist. Inde- 
 pendence of speech, action, or writing — every thing which gives po- 
 litical importance to the individual — becomes a crime. The press, 
 army, judiciary, and even the church, exist only as the slaves of 
 authority. Spies are every where. The government spreads a 
 thick web over France, ready, like a spider, to dart upon any in- 
 truder upon the slightest movement. With this annihilation of 
 political freedom, which in the United States would be the sig- 
 nal of universal dissolution, she prospers — growing mightier and 
 richer as liberty recedes. Call her by what name you will, the 
 freedom of America becomes her curse, and the despotism of 
 Russia her security. This being the case, she has no alternative 
 but to maintain a strong government, until education and tran- 
 quillity shall have prepared her citizens for the rational enjoy- 
 ment of those privileges, which are the birthright alike of all men. 
 It is not so much political as individual reform that France needs. 
 I will show in few words what is this scourge that, upon every 
 struggle for freedom, drives her back into despotism. It is soc'alism, 
 directed by faction. Not that vain theory, which, if left to itself, 
 would die from its own want of vitality ; but a wide-spread con- 
 spiracy to undermine society and overturn authority, that atheism 
 and brutality may renew their orgies of 1793. Like Catiline, it 
 gathers under its banner the discontented and dissipated, of every 
 opinion. It has its honest advocates, who seek only general good. 
 So had the first revolution. They became its earliest victims. 
 Finding its strongest support in ignorance, irritated to madness 
 by social contrasts, it proclaims property and chastity to be crimes 
 against nature. Barricades, assassination, and rapine, are its 
 arguments. Its oracles are Robespierre, St. Just, and Ledru 
 Rollin ; its code, the guillotine ; and its traditions, the massacres 
 of September and the confiscations of the Assembly. 
 
220 PAEISIAN SIGHTS AND "FEENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 It is worthy of remark, that it has been whenever there was 
 most political freedom that France has incurred the greatest civil 
 danger. The press and ballot-box, which in the United States 
 are the guardians of freedom, become here the slaves of authority 
 or the emissaries of disorder. The government emphatically per- 
 petuates its own dangers by over-severity. It chains, but does 
 not tame. It exasperates, but does not instruct. It rules by the 
 sword alone, and perishes by the sword. If it were wise for its 
 own good, or patriotic for the nation, instead of muzzling the 
 press to arrest its licentiousness, it would use it to counteract the 
 disorganizing doctrines of its adversaries. It should unfetter it 
 entirely ; offset one doctrine by its opposite ; encourage discus- 
 sion ; disseminate education ; imitate the organization of the 
 socialist, by establishing every where associations for lawful, sal- 
 utary objects ; feed the minds of the people as well as their 
 bodies ; leave their tongues free, but direct their energies to use- 
 ful ends. The government would then rest far more securely 
 than it does at present on its army and police ; and the money 
 which is now expended to sustain this terrorism, or to add to the 
 embellishments of Paris, would yield a rich return of patriotism, 
 by being expended in disseminating among its citizens those prin- 
 ciples of law and order which are the only sure foundations foi 
 the prosperity of a State. 
 
 Socialism falls lifeless to the ground in the United States, be- 
 cause it is met by a free press, a zealous clergy, and a matter-of- 
 fact population, who, if they begin by shouting hosannahs for 
 doctrines they do not comprehend, always end by a close investi- 
 gation into their merits. Some practical good, or some recognized 
 principle of humanity, must be adduced before they subscribe their 
 time or money. If they are misled , a thousand presses proclaim 
 it ; and, upon the great ocean of discussion, truth at last quietly 
 floats. 
 
 Not so in France. The government refuses to trust the people 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 221 
 
 with the liberty of political orgiaiiizatiou and di.scussious. But, as 
 they will speak and think, no other resource remains than secret 
 societies, which being illegal, are so many nurseries of" political 
 corruption, by being compelled to a system of fraud and treach- 
 ery to maintain their existence. Thus organizations, which, if 
 they were open and avowed, might be made serviceable to the 
 cause of patriotism, or at all events, neutralized by those of 
 opposite tendencies, become propagandas of disorganizing doc- 
 trines, under the direction of master-spirits of intrigue and am- 
 bition. 
 
 In 1849, the Constituent Assembly interdicted clubs. They 
 were replaced by the most formidable organization of secret 
 societies with which the civil existence of a government has ever 
 been threatened. An association entitled the " Solidarite repub- 
 licaine" was formed, with the express design to propagate the 
 doctrines of the democratic and social republic. Its centre was 
 in Paris, with branches throughout the entire territory of France. 
 Repeated judicial condemnations finally broke it up, but only to 
 appear in other shapes; so that, during 1850 and 1851, France 
 became covered with a frame- work of secret associations and their 
 affiliations, to the number of several thousand, extending to the 
 remotest hamlets. Many were disguised under the appearance 
 of philanthropic institutions, literary circles, or musical reunions, 
 with titles appropriate to their nominal functions. Others took 
 the names of masonic lodges ; while not a few were christened 
 with alarming or blasphemous appellations, such as the " Mal- 
 contents," and the " Robe of Christ." 
 
 The " Solidarite republicaine" had for its object to embrace 
 France in one affiliation. After its ruin, two centres of action 
 were established — one at Paris and the other at Lyons — distinct 
 in action, but united by correspondence. That of Paris was di- 
 rected by a superior committee, constituting " the revolutionary 
 government of socialism." It was in direct correspondence with 
 
222 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 Lyons and the chief cities of France ; also with London, and all 
 other foreign parts in which there existed kindred societies. 
 
 There existed, in addition to the parent association, other cen- 
 tres of action, known as " The Committee of Refugees ;" the 
 secret society of " Union of the Communes," and the "Central 
 Committee of Resistance," directed by two national representatives 
 of the Mountain. The last circulated revolutionary bulletins, 
 clandestinely printed. 
 
 The Lyonese organization was less extensive than that of Paris, 
 but stronger. The reports were more frequent, correspondence 
 more active, and the unity of action better established. 
 
 The means of communication was ordinarily by agents, who 
 bore from one place to another the instructions of their chiefs. 
 They assumed various disguises — generally that of workmen in 
 search of occupation. Their credentials were the impressions of 
 the seals of the leaders upon the papers transmitted, which were 
 seldom signed. These seals represented the emblems of equality 
 or terror, such as the Phrygian cap, the compass, or the lie- 
 tor's ax. 
 
 The societies recruited their ranks by the usual means of cor- 
 ruption and stratagem. Before, however, admitting a novice, he 
 was compelled to answer certain questions, and to undergo a 
 particular ceremony, of which the following was the usual prac- 
 tice : 
 
 The candidate, blindfolded, knelt upon two knives crossed, and 
 upon two five-franc pieces. He was then asked — 
 
 " Do you wish to join this society ?" — " Yes." 
 
 " Do you promise never to reveal its secrets ?" — " I promise it." 
 
 " Swear to obey all orders which may be given you, even if 
 they prescribe to you to kill your brother." — " I swear it." 
 
 " What do you feel under your hands ?" — " I feel two kniver 
 and two pieces of money." 
 
 •' These objects are placed there to teach you that if the lust of 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 223 
 
 money draws you to betray the society, you will be put to 
 death." 
 
 His eyes were then unbandaged, and two of the oldest brethren 
 seized the knives and brandished them over his head, exclaiming-, 
 " Yes, the brother who sells our secrets will deserve death, and 
 we will kill him I" 
 
 There is another form of initiation still more savage : " I swear 
 upon these arms, symbols of honor, to serve the social and dem- 
 ocratic republic, and to die for her, if it be necessary. I swear, 
 besides, the deepest hatred to kings and royalists ; and that my 
 bowels shall sooner become the food, of wild beasts, than that I 
 shall ever fail to my oath. I swear it three times, in the name 
 of my Saviour, Christ I 
 
 " I swear upon my honor, in the name of the sacred cause into 
 which I have been received, to march to any place with my broth- 
 ers of the Mountain, to give aid and assistance to all democrats. 
 I swear this three times, in the name of Christ, the Redeemer." 
 
 He is then baptised " child of the Mountain ;" previous to which 
 he must reply satisfactorily to these interrogatories : 
 
 " Tell me, citizen, what motives have brought you here ? — 
 Tell me, citizen, have you been denounced ; is it true ? — Now 
 you have your eyes blinded, and your hands bound behind your 
 back, we are your masters ; but we wish to examine you. If, 
 by example, your brother or your father are not found on your 
 side, will you avenge yourself; will you assassinate them ? — ^Will 
 not that be painful to do ? — If it is necessary to take arms for the 
 republic, will you take them ? — You wish then to become a repub- 
 lican ? — Your life belongs to us." 
 
 Members recognised each other by signs, the mode of saluta- 
 tion, or by watchwords. For instance, on meeting, one asked, 
 "L'heure?" the other replied, " Sonnee ;" the first exclaimed, 
 *' Nouvclle I" to which the proper answer was " Montague." 
 
 The societies every where prepared arms and munitions of war, 
 
224 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 and enrolled its members for the general insurrection ; the object 
 of which is thus explained in an intercepted letter of one of the 
 chiefs, proven before a judicial tribunal : 
 
 " It is in 1852 that the combat should commence. Then we 
 should vote with our constitution in hand ; organize for that ; not 
 to force the gates of the college and then peaceably retire home, 
 hut to march upon the chief place of the department, and pro- 
 claim anew the revolution triumphant over its enemies." The 
 rallying cry for this organized insurrection appears to have been 
 " Marianne,'''' and " De boire a la sante de la Marianne,'' the 
 substitute for " Reimblique democratique et wciale^ by which 
 the brethren knew each other throughout France. 
 
 The confidence inspired either by ignorance or a knowledge of 
 their own strength, and faith in the ultimate success of the bloody 
 drama they were preparing not only for France but for all Europe 
 in 1852, prompted many individual acts of crime in the autumn 
 of 1851. Their assassinations were chiefly confined to the gen- 
 darmerie, a number of whom suffered from their assaults. They 
 openly proclaimed their anticipated triumph in the following May, 
 when the election of a new President was to be their signal foi 
 rising. The numbers actually committed to measures of violence 
 it is impossible to ascertain, but one successful movement would 
 have agitated the entire country. The peaceful inhabitants were 
 in a state of continual alarm ; they felt that they lived over a 
 mine, ready at any moment to explode, and yet were ignorant of 
 its extent. Often in sallying from their habitations in the morn- 
 ing they would find threatening writings on the walls, calculated 
 to inspire them with terror. Sheltered in the obscurity of the 
 night, unknown voices would cry, "Long live the reds! death 
 to the whites I" with maledictions upon the President and 
 the aristocrats, coupled with praises of the guillotine. After 
 the events of December, one of these instruments of decapita- 
 tion was found actually prepared in the house of a mechanic, 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 225 
 
 who asserted that he had made it on speculation, believing in a 
 few months there would be a sudden demand lor the article. 
 After this there is nothing to be said of the shipment of ready- 
 made coffins to California. 
 
 I give one of the many inscriptions with which socialism hast- 
 ened to signalize its advent. It was taken from a wall in the 
 Rue de Grenelle, and was an attempt at versification, in capital 
 letters : 
 
 " Malheureux ouvriers, sans pain et sans travaux, 
 Vite, depechez vous, brulez les aristos, 
 Puisqu'ils sont sans entrailles, montrons nous sans pitie, 
 Et qu'ils expircnt tous sous leurs toits embrases." 
 
 In plain and uncomfortable prose — 
 
 " Wretched laborers, without bread and without work, quick, hasten and 
 burn the aristocrats. Since they are without bowels, let us show ourselves 
 without pity, that they may all expire together under their roofs." 
 
 The following letter from a refugee at Geneva, addressed to 
 one of his " freres" in France, residing at Montelimart, named 
 Staupany, was found among the papers of the latter, on his being 
 arrested for having taken part in the insurrection of December : 
 
 " Dear Brother of the Union, Staupany — The day of vengeance is 
 arrived ; I make it known to you in order that you may have arms and 
 abundant ammunition in readiness ; fifty of us are about to leave Geneva, 
 and we shall direct our course toward Montelimart. There are some be- 
 longing to the Ardeche, the Drome, the Alps, and elsewhere ; we wish to 
 massacre all the aristocrats and the black robes ; to burn all the chateaux ; 
 no quarter, no pity for those wretches, and that monster Bonaparte — we 
 must assassinate and poison them. Remember us to our brethren ; we 
 shall write to you when we are nearer, in order that you may come and 
 meet us, in order to avenge the blood which was shed in Ptome, and which 
 is every day shed in France, by those wretches of soldiers, whom we will 
 hunt down. It is now that we are going to enter on the great hunting 
 match against all the kings of the earth ; the red flag must float on all 
 sides, and the Phrygian cap before 1852. — Your brother of the Union for 
 life, Peysson Antoin:^." 
 
226 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FEENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 While preachers and practicers of such doctrines are about, 
 society is in the condition of a man groping in the dark amid pit- 
 falls, not knowing but the next step will plunge him to destruc- 
 tion. This was the democracy of Marat faithfully transmitted to 
 their children by the readers of the " Ami du Peuple." The same 
 instruction is made the primary education of the infant race of 
 socialists of 1851 . I translate from a journal, which pledges itself 
 for their authenticity, two pertinent illustrations : 
 
 " A child of six years, son of one of the insurgents of Surgy, 
 awoke suddenly during the night of the fifth of December. 
 ' Papa,' cried he ; and hearing no answer, he called to his 
 mother, and said, ' mamma, where then is my papa ? I will 
 wait for him patiently, because he has gone with those others to 
 kill the bourgeoisie (rich citizens)."^ 
 
 The other is yet more atrocious : "A young woman of T air- 
 nay, mother of a child of but eighteen months, was in the habit 
 of asking him before a circle of Socialists, ' Tin I Tin I' (the child 
 being named Mathurin), 'what is it they will do to the aristo- 
 crats?' The infant immediately, to the infinite satisfaction of 
 the spectators and the tender-hearted mother, who covered him 
 with kisses, drew his hand rapidly across his neck, to indicate 
 that it was thus they intended to cut their throats." 
 
 The events of December 2d, which placed the supreme author- 
 ity solely in the hands of Louis Napoleon, disconcerted the plans 
 of the Socialists. Instead of a government weakened by its in- 
 testine struggles, and a National Assembly m which they could 
 count upon leaders and co-operators, they found themselves iso- 
 lated from all extraneous aid, and an army of five hundred 
 thousand men, under the direction of energetic and skillful 
 chiefs, prepared to act against them. Even with these odds, 
 they threw down the gauntlet, and unprepared as they were, 
 took the field in detached parties all over the Republic . They 
 were finally put down, but not until they had given a jjractical 
 
TARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PlUNCirLES. 227 
 
 illustration of what would have been the character of their 
 campaign in 1852, had not the President frustrated their inten- 
 tions by seizing the supreme power himself. Their insignia 
 were red caps and cravats. Their first acts were the pillage 
 of the local treasuries, and whatever their wants dictated, burn- 
 ing of public archives, registers, and title deeds of property, abuse 
 of women, and the murder, and in some instances, torture of 
 soldiers who fell into their hands. At Neury, the venerable 
 cure was shot while in the act of addressing them ; and at 
 Nissan, M. Bernard Maury was assassinated, the murderer 
 exclaiming as he fired, " Here is a proprietor;" One of their 
 own number met his death from wearing a dress-coat, by which 
 he was mistaken for an aristocrat. Buildings were burned, 
 property destroyed, and many lives lost on the part of the 
 troops as well as the insurgents, in these detached struggles 
 of communism for the mastery of France. 
 
 The nobility and the clergy are not now the immediate 
 objects of the hatred of the Socialists. These classes were tco 
 effectually prostrated in 1793, ever to attain again a position 
 which shall contrast so invidiously with that of the people, as 
 did theirs previous to that revolution. A new class of society 
 has arisen, possessing the wealth of France, and living in all 
 the luxury and style of the old noblesse. It is thus of the rich 
 " bourgeoisie," and it is against them, the men of property, the 
 practical and striking examples of inequality, that the enmity 
 of the modern revolutionists is directed. The alarm cry of the 
 government is not now as then, " Preserve your privileges" — 
 but, "Preserve your property." And its greatest strength is in 
 the fear of the rich for their possessions. 
 
 The intense hatred with which the Socialists and partisans of 
 the government now regard each other, is often manifested in 
 acts of treacherous violence on the one side, and questionable 
 justice on the other. A soldier is attacked, as if he were a wild 
 
w 
 
 228 PARISIAN SIGHTS AiND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 animal, on every favorable opportunity. On their side they are 
 not slow to avenge the proffered insults and injuries. It is but 
 a few days since, a sentinel on guard in the Rue Hichelieu, one 
 of the most fashionable streets, being provoked by a party of 
 Sociahsts, who threatened his life, fired upon them, and killed 
 an innocent student, who, by a fatal coincidence, had just turned 
 the corner in the direction of the shot. 
 
 On the 20th of February, the Court of Assizes of Nevers, 
 acquitted, almost with acclamations, a woman who had killed 
 her husband, because he had joined the secret society, and 
 sworn to forsake his wife and child, and all he held dearest, for 
 the cause of the democratic and social republic. At the moment 
 she gave the fatal blow, the deceased had said to her, in reply to 
 her question, whether he had taken the customary oath : " Yes, 
 I have sworn to abandon you and my child, at the first call. 
 While I go to kill others, perhaps they will come here to kill 
 you." 
 
CHAPTER XTL 
 
 THE NATIONAL ASSEMBLY. 
 
 Between the crimes of socialism and the quiet of despotism, 
 there can be but one choice. The nation at large may thrive 
 under one master, but with a thousand it is rent asunder. The 
 doctrines and deeds of the advocates of the social and democratic 
 republic prove that those who have most to gain from political 
 
 THE CHAMUER OK DEPUTIES. 
 
230 taiiisia:; sights a:\d fsench phinciples. 
 
 reform are those who, in the name of liberty, are most prone to 
 violate its sacred principles. Were, however, the ignorance and 
 evil passions of the masses, the only obstacle to the progress of 
 republicanism in France, much might be hoped for from the 
 gradual dissemination of education and spread of democratic in- 
 stitutions. But when we find that its greatest hindrance is in 
 the legislative body elected by universal suffrage, the cause be- 
 comes almost hopeless. 
 
 The talent and education of the National Assembly, composed 
 of nearly eight hundred members, were chiefly to be found among 
 the Legitimists or partisans of the house of Orleans. However 
 friendly Berryer, Montalembert, Larochejaquelin, Mole, or Thiers 
 might be to civil liberty, they were pledged to it in no other form 
 than that of royalty. It was for that they labored, and by that 
 tenure they held their seats. They carried with them a large 
 proportion of the intellect and wealth of France. Republican- 
 ism in name existed rather by reason of the disagreement of the 
 rival branches of royalty than by its own strength. Still it was 
 respectably represented in the Assembly by about eighty-three 
 members of the conservative order, of whom the most eminent 
 names were Lamartine, the Generals Cavaignac, Lamoriciere, 
 and the eloquent divine, M. Coquerel. The reds, or the Mount- 
 ain, the ultra democrats, among whom every shade of opinion 
 was to be found, from moderate republicanism to the worst errors 
 of socialism, embraced nearly one third of the National Assem- 
 bly, and numbered in their ranks Victor Hugo, Eugene Sue, the 
 Abbe Lammenais, Emile Girardin, and others, whose literary 
 talents have gained them reputation. A more heterogeneous 
 body of legislators could not have been assembled. Members of 
 the Bonaparte family were to be seen supporting all opinions 
 except that of legitimacy, while there was a party of Imperial- 
 ists who looked forward to the re-establishment of the empire as 
 the national panacea. The National Assembly in lieu of being 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 231 
 
 a body of republican legislators, M^as an assemblage of Imperial- 
 ists, Bourbonists, Orleauists, and Socialists, with a moderate 
 number of members who were sincere in their attachment to a 
 republic. It was a legislature of partisans and not of patriots. 
 Yet they were elected by the broadest principle of suffrage, and 
 may be fairly supposed to represent the actual political condition 
 of the people. If so, on the principle of numbers, it was evident 
 that republicanism had no root in the nation. 
 
 Admitting it was a republican assembly, has their conduct 
 shown their sincerity or their fitness for republicanism ? They 
 embraced the best minds of the nation, so that ignorance has no 
 apology to offer ; and if they failed in their duties as republican 
 legislators, it has been from incapacity or design. That they 
 have failed, and incurred the opprobrium and contempt of the 
 nation is evident from the fact that, while the usurpation of Louis 
 Bonaparte was universally deplored or condemned, not one soli- 
 tary voice of commiseration was raised for the Assembly. It 
 had become the laughing stock, or object of the indignation of 
 the community ; and they saw it fall to the ground, so far as the 
 individual members were concerned, with as little concern as 
 they Avould have shown for the dropping of rotten fruit in an 
 orchard. Instead of laboring for the republic, in accordance 
 with their oaths and duties, they had presented to the world the 
 unseemly spectacle of fierce contentions, unprincipled intrigues, 
 and a total disregard not only of forensic rules, but the ordinary 
 forms of individual courtesy. In general, they were united in 
 one point — hostility to the executive authority ; each party hoping 
 that in its destruction their own might rise. It was a wild 
 scramble for power, with " the devil take the hindmost" for its 
 cry. My own country has a sufficient weight of disgrace, arising 
 from the individual passions of its hot-brained and ignorant legis- 
 lators, to deplore ; but it has been true to the principles of legisla- 
 tive action. The National Assembly of France has to chnr?-e 
 
232 PARISLiN SIGHTS AND FP.ENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 itself with doing more in one session to discredit republicanism 
 in the eyes of Europe, than could have the combined efforts of 
 all its enemies in a century. 
 
 If it were not for the importance of the results to humanity, I 
 should be disposed to place the proceedings of the IsTational As- 
 sembly, during their last ephemeral career, among the amuse- 
 ments of this capital. As a republican, I feel too deep a regret 
 at this last sad solution of the problem of a liberal form of gov- 
 ernment in France, to speak of its faults and overthrow, otherwise 
 than in sorrow. Making every allowance for the greater vivacity 
 and excitability of Gallic eloquence, and of habits foreign to our 
 own, what a spectacle of tumult and confusion has the Assembly 
 presented up to the period of it forcible dissolution on the 2d of 
 December ! Louis Napoleon saved himself from arrest and im- 
 prisonment by forestalling the contemplated violence of the legis- 
 lative power. I scarcely know what day's proceedings to select, 
 to give my readers a picture of these scandalous scenes, as taken 
 down by their own reporters. Those who have never been in 
 the midst of the hurly-burly of half a thousand French throats, 
 each speaking in its loudest key, and no ears listening, can form 
 but an imperfect idea of this specimen of democratic legislation. 
 It became an established principle with the reds to prevent, by 
 their noise and disorder, any speaker from being heard, that they 
 opposed. This conduct is the m.ore surprising when contrasted 
 with the admirable order sustained by the authority of the police 
 in all public places, and that system of regularity and economy 
 of time and labor introduced into other matters of business. 
 
 I shall quote from several days' proceedings. It would be 
 supposed that national dignity, as well as common politeness, 
 would induce a legislative body to receive the reading of the 
 annual report of the Chief Magistrate in respectful silence. The 
 '•President's Message" was read November 4th. I give one 
 paragraph only, with the reported interruptions : 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 233 
 
 " That biU will, therefore, contain nothing calculated to shock 
 the Assembly ; for, if I at present ask to have the law of May 
 31st withdrawn, I do not mean to deny the approbation which 
 I formerly gave to the initiative of that Ministry who asked the 
 majority to support the law which it presented. (Murmurs on 
 the Left, and laughter). I admit even that its effects have 
 been to a certain extent salutary. (Renewed laughter). In 
 calling to mind the circumstance under which it was presented, 
 it must be allowed that it was a political act more than an 
 electoral law — (marks of denial, accompanied with laughter) — 
 that it was a real measure of public safety. (Sneers on the 
 Left). And whenever the Assembly proposes to me vigorous 
 measures to save the country, it may count on my disinterested 
 and firm co-operation. (Ironical laughter). But measures of 
 public safety are only passed for a limited time." (Interruption 
 on the Left). 
 
 From the sitting of November 11th : 
 
 The Minister of the Interior. — I have to. state that I 
 have not in any manner endeavored to avoid replying to the 
 interpellations which have been just brought forward. M. Leon 
 Faucher, my predecessor, has a dossier of papers on this subject. 
 (Loud interruptions ; exclamations on both sides of the Chamber). 
 That honorable gentleman, I say, has in his possession the dos- 
 sier of papers which did not pass from my hands into his. (Re- 
 newed interruption). 
 
 M. Leon Faucher endeavored to speak from his place, but 
 was prevented by the exclamations of the Left. He at last sat 
 down. 
 
 The Minister of the Interior. — I make that statement 
 because I do not wish it to be imagined that the members of the 
 present Government have need to entrench themselves behind 
 any one ; their own acts will speak for them. But you have 
 
234 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 just heard a report read from the Procureur of the Republie, 
 which shows clearly that all the parties concerned in M. Sar- 
 tin's affair, had matters to reproach themselves with. (Load 
 exclamations). 
 
 A Voice. — He is seeking votes for the new electoral law I 
 (Great noise on the Hight, responded to by ironical laughter 
 on the Left). 
 
 The President. — Allow the Minister to proceed. No one 
 ever attempts to prevent a Minister from replying to interpella- 
 tions ; let him then go on whether ill or well. (Tremendous 
 uproar, which continued for some time). 
 
 M. DE Thorigny turned round, and bowed to the President, 
 speaking to him at the same time with animation. 
 
 Voices on the Left. — You are insulting the Minister ! 
 
 The President. — Do not attach to my words a meaning 
 which they are not intended to convey. I merely desired to 
 impress on you the propriety of allowing the honorable Minister 
 to reply, whether his sentiments were pleasing to you or not. 
 (Laughter; agitation). 
 
 From the sitting of November I7th : 
 
 General Bedeau (from his place). — Before the vote takes 
 place, I wish to ask the Government one question. Is the 
 decree of May 11, approved of by the ministry of which M. 0. 
 Barrot was the head, and posted up in the barracks by General 
 Rulhieres, then the Minister of War, still to be found in the bar- 
 racks, or rather has it not been withdrawn ? (Marks of the 
 liveliest curiosity). 
 
 The Minister of War (from his place). — The decree which 
 had been posted up in some few barracks, still was to be found 
 in a small number, when I arrived at power. I was applied to, 
 to declare whether I intended to leave it there ; and, as doubts 
 and hesitations have been manifested, I gave orders to have it 
 
PAKISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 235 
 
 withdrawn. (Extraordinary agitation on every side, and partic- 
 ularly on the Left. We have seldom seen a legislative assembly 
 more moved by the simple statement of a fact.) 
 
 M. Baze, M. Cremieux, and some other members, rushed to 
 the tribune, successively entered it, and then abruptly descended. 
 The agitation on the Left was most remarkable, groups being 
 formed among the members as they stood up in their places, dis- 
 puting, to all appearance, together most warmly. MM. Latrade, 
 Schcelcher, and Charras, seemed to be addressing their colleagues. 
 The last-named gentleman, as we caught his words amid the 
 noise, asked how the Left could now vote with the Government. 
 M. Schoelcher replied that he could never consent to give such 
 an arm to the majority as the affirmative vote of the proposition. 
 M. V. Hugo was seen standing on his seat, gesticulating most 
 energetically. The scene of confusion was most extraordinary. 
 
 M. DE GiRARDiN Suddenly rushed up the steps of the tribune, 
 but was received with laughter. He then descended, and after 
 a time, again appeared ; but was again badly received. After 
 endeavoring in vain to obtain a hearing, he finally disappeared. 
 
 The sitting was again suspended, and with difficulty the Pres- 
 ident's bell at last procured a comparative state of silence. 
 
 General d'Hautpoul. — I by no means, in ascending the trib- 
 une, have any intention to deny the rights of the Assembly to 
 provide for its defense by every means which it may deem neces- 
 sary. But allow me to ask you two questions ; the first is this : 
 Is there any imminent danger? No, the most complete calm 
 exists every where except here. (Cries of order, order I) 
 A Voice. — But he speaks the truth I (Laughter.) 
 General Husson. — The exact truth ! (Continued laughter.) 
 On the Left. — Suppress the state of siege, then I (Noise.) 
 General d'Hautpoul. — The next question is this : Is this 
 proposition necessary? For my part, I find in the Constitution as 
 many and sufficient guaranties els can be reasonably demanded. 
 
236 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 Allow me to consider the question under a military point of 
 view. (Loud marks of impatience.) When the Assembly 
 should desire a battalion, a regiment, a brigade, or a division, 
 it must apply to the questors to demand them. (Loud explosion 
 of impatience, by which the speaker's voice was rendered quite 
 inaudible.) 
 
 Voices on the Left. — Speak to us of the reviews of Satory. 
 
 General d'Hautpoul attempted to continue his remarks, but 
 the noise was so great as to prevent his words from reaching the 
 reporter's gallery. He at last quitted the tribune. 
 
 General Lebreton ascended the tribune, but could not 
 either obtain a hearing. (Cries of divide, divide !) 
 
 M. TmERS. — For the first time the new chief of the public 
 force. General Leroy Saint Arnaud, has made an appeal in novel 
 terms to passive obedience and to discipline. I do not attribute 
 it as a crime to the minister to make this appeal to discipline ; 
 but he perverts the spirit of the army when he does not speak to 
 it of respect for the laws — 
 
 A Voice. — Is not the Constitution then a law ? 
 
 M. Thiers. — And for the Constitution. 
 
 A Voice. — You violated the Constitution by voting the law 
 of May 31. 
 
 On the E-ight. — You violated it on the 13th June. (Noise.) 
 
 A Voice. — And you voted against it. (Continued noise.) 
 
 On the Right. — Allow the Montagnards to speak ; they are 
 our future senators. (Laughter.) 
 
 M. Thiers. — I will ask my interrupters whether they approve 
 of the omission of any mention of respect for the laws in the cir- 
 cular in question. 
 
 M. JoLY. — That question is not fairly put. (" Hear I hear I" 
 on the Left.) 
 
 General de Lamoriciere. — Monsieur le President, pray pre- 
 vent these interruptions. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 237 
 
 M. JoLY. — We are treated as if we were children. (Noise.) 
 
 The President (pointing to the Mountain.) — There are a 
 izen there who have a mania for interruptions. 
 M. Thiers. — The circular of the minister, I repeat, is of great 
 avity. Is it so or not ? Do you approve of it ? (Cries of 
 No, no," on the Left, and laughter on the right.) 
 M. Michel (de Bourges.) — A snare is laid for us. 
 On the E-ight. — Citizen Michel has, it appears, the privilege 
 
 interrupting. 
 
 M. Thiers. — Under no re^-zwic can such language be held to 
 e army. The army is abroad the defender of the nationality 
 -at home, the defender of the law. That must be well under- 
 ood by all, and without any reticence. In imposing on the 
 •my the absolute principle, without any reserve, of obedience, 
 )u should give it for object the maintenance of the law. And 
 )u, legislators, who wish that the obedience of the soldier shall 
 a.ve the maintenance of the law for its object, should render the 
 .w clear. What is the object of the proposition? I am not the 
 nthor of it, neither did I suggest it. (Ironical laughter on the 
 eft.) 
 
 A Voice on the Left. — And the law of the 31st May I 
 
 General Leflo (addressing the Left.) — No one more than 
 ou inspired the proposition I 
 
 M. Thiers. — Under a constitution which renders the Assem- 
 ly the temporary holder of the national sovereignty, the neces- 
 iry principle inspired by the simplest common sense is, that the 
 .ssembly shall charge itself with its defense, and shall not dele- 
 ate it to any one. Now, do you think that that general decla- 
 ition, without any rule which explains it, is sufficiently clear 
 D put an end to all the anxieties of those who may have to 
 omply with your requisitions ? (Interruptions on the Left.) 
 
 A Voice on the Right. — Silence, Messieurs les Senateurs. 
 A laugh.) 
 
238 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 M. Thiers. — Two cases may present themselves. (K-enewed 
 interruption.) 
 
 A Voice on the Right. — The speakers of the minority have 
 more hberty than those of the majority. 
 
 M. Thiers (addressing the Left.) — "What! you now deny the 
 privilege of direct requisition, which you admitted under the 
 Constituent Assembly ? 
 
 On the Left. — Certainly. 
 
 A Voice on the Hight. — Wait a moment. You are not 
 ministers yet. (Laughter; agitation on the Left.) 
 
 The President. — It is impossible to preach passive obedience 
 with greater want of discipline. (Laughter.) M. Valentin, you 
 always interrupt ; and yet you will again maintain that you 
 have said nothing. 
 
 M. Valentin protested amid the noise. 
 
 The President. — I call you to order, since you are anxious 
 to be distinguished. 
 
 M. Thiers. — The principle of direct requisition has been 
 affirmed. But it has been denied, and you think that that does 
 not require a new reply from the government. 
 
 General Lebreton. — It has been denied by all governments. 
 (" Order I" on the Left.) I will say the same thing in the trib- 
 une. (" Order, order I") 
 
 The President. — I call you to order. 
 
 General Lebreton spoke with great warmth. 
 
 The President. — I call you to order, with inscription on the 
 minutes. 
 
 M. Thiers. — Will you grant me a few minutes to explain the 
 principle of direct requisition ? Do you wish that this immense 
 question, misunderstood now, shall not be unknown to-morrow ? 
 The question at stake is the independence of the Assembly — the 
 future of representative government — the last Assembly, perhaps. 
 (" Oh ! oh I" on the Left.) 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 239 
 
 On the Left. — It will be the last for you and for the royalists. 
 
 M. Thiers. — Royalist I Call me royalist if you will I But 
 it will be a singular spectacle to see royalists defending the lib- 
 erty of the Assembly. (Cries of divide I on the Left). I wish 
 to make the question clear in the interest of every body. (Noise 
 on the Left.) 
 
 M. Grew and M. Pelletier (to the Left.) — Let him speak, 
 then I 
 
 M. Thiers. — The country will know that when I wished to 
 throw light on this great question, you would not listen to me. 
 (The honorable gentleman left the tribune.) 
 
 These scandalous scenes were not always the result of political 
 animosities. That of the 21st of November, both from the sub- 
 ject and the mode of handling it, was one of the most ludicrous 
 that ever took place within legislative halls. It is impossible to 
 render justice to it in English, or to convey the spirit of the 
 " doubles entendres ;" still, as it is a subject of interest to the 
 advocates of " female rights," I shall give an imperfect specimen 
 of its spirit : 
 
 The President calls M. Leroux to the tribune to explain an 
 amendment which he proposed yesterday. (Shouts of laughter.) 
 M. Leroux ascends the tribune amid noise and laughter. 
 
 The amendment was to add all Frenchwomen, of age, to the 
 list of electors. He proceeded with his speech in support of his 
 amendment, amid boisterous laughter from all parts of the As- 
 sembly, who seemed to view his argument as a capital joke. 
 After some remarks of an amusing character, uttered with all the 
 zeal and gravity of the rider of a new hobby, he proceeds : 
 
 Well, I ask of you liberty, equality, and fraternity. (Laughter.) 
 
 A Voice. — And maternity. (Greater laughter.) 
 
 M. Leroux. — I ask you if these great words do not apply to 
 
240 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 all human creatures. The authors of the constitution did not 
 wish to exclude wonien ; for they understood very well that the 
 union of the two sexes — (laughter). 
 
 A YoicE TO THE Left. — Leave the tribune ; you see that you 
 make fun for these gentlemen. 
 
 M. Leroux. — The people, gentlemen, the people do not un- 
 derstand the fundamental difference between man and woman. 
 (Roars of laughter). Gentlemen, pursued the orator, let me 
 quote from Condorcet. Are not women, equally with men, part 
 of nature. Do you argue from the physical weakness of woman 
 — then it would be necessary to have the representatives exam- 
 ined by a medical jury. (Boisterous laughter.) 
 
 Several Voices. — Enough, enough. 
 
 A Voice to the Left of the Speaker. — You see that they 
 are only mocking you. 
 
 M. Leroux. — Do you argue upon the inferiority of mind of 
 woman. It seems to me that there are here some representa- 
 tives who have less. (Renewed laughter ; shouts of enough — 
 enough.) I see no motive to prevent females from performing 
 public functions. As to the rest, I quote the sublime words of 
 Olymphe of Gouges : woman has the right to ascend the tribune, 
 since she has the right to mount the scaffold. (Noise.) 
 
 General Husson. — Has she also the right to be drawn in the 
 conscription. (Merriment.) 
 
 M. Leroux. — Gentlemen, I defend a cause eminently just. 
 Do not condemn a cause because it is badly defended. (Hear, 
 hear.) I examine now the question in view of the actual politi- 
 cal situation of France. (General signs of impatience.) For 
 some time, great efforts have been made to destroy centralization, 
 and create a good commuijal organization. And I also, I wish 
 a good communal organisation ; but I believe, that without fe- 
 males, this organisation would be entirely unfruitful. (The most 
 lively laughter.) 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 241 
 
 Numerous Voices. — Enough, enough. 
 
 M. Leroux. — To arrive at a good communal organization, it 
 is necessary to call science to your aid ; and, if you will permit 
 me — but you will not permit me — (laughter.) 
 
 Several Voices. — Go on, go on. 
 
 M. Leroux. — If you will permit me, I will show you how to 
 make the organisation of the future. (Hear, hear.) I speak, but 
 you do not listen. 
 
 The President. — Never has an orator been listened to with 
 more patience. 
 
 The orator proceeded, in much the same vein, amid indescrib- 
 able confusion, to defend the ptopriety of allowing females to 
 vote ; at times wandering from his subject, and recalled by 
 shouts of " stick to the women." 
 
 M. Leroux. — If there be a means to make a powerful move- 
 ment in favor of the public peace ; if there be a means to recon- 
 cile and conciliate men among themselves, it is to bring between 
 — (laughter, and the noisiest interruption.) 
 
 To THE Right. — Enough, enough. Mr. President, we have 
 no time to lose. 
 
 M. Leroux, making a powerful effort to be heard above the 
 tumult, recalled a conversation that he had had with Saint Si- 
 mon, who had forewarned him of the contagious success of the 
 socialist ideas. — It is thus, continued he, that when the grippe 
 shows itself in a locality, every body coughs. (Laughter.) Al- 
 ready, you see, my lord the Archbishop of Paris has the "grippe." 
 (Laughter.) Soon you will all have it. (Renewed laughter.) 
 The orator left the tribune ; and his amendment, not being sup- 
 ported, was not put to vote. 
 
 In this manner women's rights were put to the right-about, 
 among the gallant French legislators. 
 
 At the risk of too many plums to my pudding, I give an ex- 
 
 L 
 
242 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 tract from the report of the memorable sitting of the 22d of 
 November. 
 
 The President of the Assembly. — There remains only one 
 additional proposition, which has been made by General Gram- 
 mont, in these terms : 
 
 During the fortnight which shall follow the elections, the jus- 
 tice of the peace shall pronounce, for the benefit of the com- 
 munes, a fine of from five to fifteen francs, upon each elector, 
 who, not having voted, cannot furnish legal proof of his inability 
 to do so. The list of names of the electors who have incurred 
 this fine, shall remain posted up, during a month, in each com- 
 mune. 
 
 Many Voices. — General Grammont is absent. Take the 
 vote, take the vote. 
 
 This proposition is put to vote amid great confusion. 
 
 M. DE Vatimesnil demands to speak before the counter vote 
 is taken. 
 
 M. Charras. — You can not speak. The vote is begun — let it 
 be finished. 
 
 The President calls to order. 
 
 Loud disputation between M. Charras and several members of 
 the committee. 
 
 M. 0. Barrot demands the floor, for an appeal to the rule ; 
 and mounts the tribune. (Loud protestations from the left.) 
 
 A Voice from the Left. — The rule does not permit speaking 
 between the two votes. Mr. President, cause the rule to be ob- 
 served. 
 
 The President. — It is precisely for an appeal to the rule, that 
 M. Barrot demands the floor. 
 
 The extreme Left. — Let him wait until after the vote ! the 
 rule is strict. 
 
 The President. — Since you invoke the rules of the assem- 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 243 
 
 bly, let me at least explain what they are ! (The clamor re- 
 commences on the benches of the first section of the extreme 
 left.) 
 
 M. 0. Barrot. — It is precisely upon this regulation that I wish 
 to speak. 
 
 The extreme Left. — You have not the right. 
 
 M. Cholat. — Mr. President, will you preserve order ? — The 
 rule is intended for all. 
 
 M. 0. Barrot. — I demand of M. the President, who alone is 
 charged with maintaining order — (Violent interruption on the 
 extreme left.) I beg, Mr. President, to — (New interruption from 
 the same part.) 
 
 The President. — You speak of the rule, and having violated 
 it, you wish to direct according to your own will the deliberation. 
 You do not even allow the President the right of applying or 
 interpreting the very rule you invoke. It is constantly the same 
 thing — always tyranny that you wish to exercise in the name of 
 liberty. (Exclamations become more and more overpowering 
 from the extreme left.) 
 
 M. Cholat, who is seated on the left, calls out in a great pas- 
 sion — Mr. President ! 
 
 The President (turning toward the interrupter.) — I call you 
 to order. 
 
 M. Cholat insists with great violence. 
 
 The President. — Monsieur, by what right do you speak, when 
 I have not given you the floor? I call you to order a second 
 time, and order it to be inserted in the journal. 
 
 The Left. — The vote was begun — nobody can speak between 
 the two votes — respect the rules of the Assembly. 
 
 The President. — But, Messieurs, you violate it incessantly by 
 your clamors. Now, as always, you disturb the sitting — you 
 throw continually disorder into the deliberations. 
 
 The Left. — Read the rule — read the rule. 
 
244 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 The President reads the rule. 
 
 The Left. — Ah ! 
 
 The President. — How ; you exclaim " Ah !" Without doubt 
 no speaking is allowed between the two votes. But what con- 
 stitutes a vote ? Those who are for, and those who oppose a 
 proposition. It is only after the nays are taken that it is decided. 
 (Ironical applause from the left.) 
 
 A Voice from the Left. — Bravo, Escobar, bravo ! (Rumors 
 from the right.) 
 
 M. 0. Barrot leaves the tribune. 
 
 The noise and tumult re-commence on the benches of the 
 Mountain. 
 
 The President impatiently throws down on his desk the rule 
 which he held in his hand. 
 
 They begin again to laugh on the benches of the Mountain, 
 
 The Right. — It is scandalous — it is the greatest impropriety. 
 
 The President. — I am indignant at the insupportable tyranny 
 of the members who only interfere in the debates to disturb them, 
 and to impose upon their colleagues their will by violence. — 
 (Noisy interruptions from the left.) A certain number of you 
 unite to interrupt simultaneously, and render all deliberation im- 
 possible. The President is not free, the majority is not free, the 
 tribune is not free — and thanks to you for it all. You bring 
 nothing but violence and clamor to our deliberations. 
 
 M. DE Vatimesnil rises, and tries to make known the opinion 
 of the committee on the amendment of General Grammont. The 
 noise entirely drowns his words. 
 
 The Left. — You can't speak now, the vote is begun ! 
 
 The Right. — No, no, there is no vote yet ! 
 
 M. Charras. — Mr. President, keep order ; make them observe 
 the rule — nobody can speak between the two votes. 
 
 The Right. — There is no vote yet : it was to explain the vote 
 that M. Barrot demanded the floor. 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 245 
 
 The Left. — The Assembly can see how the President main- 
 tains order and observes the regulations. 
 
 The President. — Oh, be quiet ! Yes, the Assembly sees all, and 
 will do me justice. (Numerous cries of adhesion to the President.) 
 
 The Left. — The vote had begun — 
 
 The President. — There has been no vote. The committee 
 declares there was a misunderstanding. The vote was not ex- 
 plained, and it has not taken place. Be that as it may, the ballot 
 has been called for again on the amendment of General Gram- 
 mont ; it is about to take place. 
 
 M. Cholat mounts the tribune. — Citizens (says he), I have 
 been called to order because I appealed to the rule of the House. 
 
 The Right. — By-and-by, by-and-by ; after the sitting. 
 
 M. Cholat. — I have been called to order, because I said that 
 it was forbidden to speak between the two votes. I protest 
 against this call to order. 
 
 The Right. — Call him to order, call him to order. 
 
 The President. — The member in the tribune, whose name I 
 don't know — 
 
 Many Voices.— M. Cholat. 
 
 The President. — M. Cholat interprets the regulation as he 
 chooses. I called him to order, because he disturbed the House. 
 He insists that the rule forbids speaking between the two votes ; 
 but I repeat again, that what is called a vote and counter-vote, 
 does not make two votes — that it only makes a vote. (Laughing 
 on the extreme left.) No ; I repeat it again, there has been no 
 vote. But the ballot has been called for instead of the usual vote. 
 It is going to take place now. 
 
 M. DE Vatimesnil. — Mr. President, if there has not been a vote, 
 then I demand the floor. 
 
 The Left. — No ! no ! adjourn — adjourn ! 
 
 The President. — You demand to adjourn — I will consult the 
 Assembly. 
 
246 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 A very large majority pronounce against adjournment. 
 
 The President. — The adjournment is not carried. (Exclama- 
 tions from the left.) The Chairman of the Committee has the 
 floor. 
 
 M. DE Vatimesnil mounts the tribune again. 
 
 The cries on the left re-commence with more violence than 
 ever. Many Montagnards add to the noise by knocking on their 
 desks with their paper knives. The orator makes vain efforts to 
 be heard. 
 
 The Extreme Left. — Call the votes I call the votes I 
 
 M. DE Yatimesnil, with impatience. — I will be as obstinate as 
 you ! I will not quit the tribune until I have used my right of 
 speaking here. 
 
 The Extreme Left. — You have no right to speak. You violate 
 the rules ! The vote ! The vote I 
 
 M. DE Vatimesnil. — The Assembly has decided that the dis- 
 cussion is not closed. You revolt against the decision of the As- 
 sembly. (The tumult continually increases on the extreme left.) 
 
 A Voice. — This is delightful. 
 
 Other Voices. — It is shameful. 
 
 M. DE Vatimesnil makes new efforts to be heard. Most of his 
 words are lost in the confusion. — ^We do not reject entirely (said 
 he) the aniendment of General Grammont ; we only request him 
 to withdraw it provisionally, to be brought up again after the 
 third reading. 
 
 A Voice. — M. de Grammont was not there. 
 
 M. DE Vatimesnil. — And the Committee will examine the 
 amendment between now and the third reading. 
 
 Voice at the Extreme Left. — Another trick ; always sly. 
 (Murmurs on the right.) 
 
 The President — turning toward the extreme left. — You offer, 
 Messieurs, a fine spectacle to the nation I 
 
 The Extreme Left — So do you — so do you I 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FEENCH PUINCIPLES. 247 
 
 The President. — Oh ! as for me, I am above board, and do 
 not fear the judgment of the people. (Ironical laughter from the 
 benches of the Mountain.) As the demand for the ballot is not 
 persisted in, I consult the Assembly by requesting them to rise, 
 on the amendment of General Grammont. 
 
 The vote is taken. Twenty members only rise for — a strong 
 majority against. The Montagnards take no part in the vote. 
 
 The President. — The amendment is rejected. (Ironical ap- 
 plause from the left.) 
 
CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 There were two ingredients of Yankee life that I decidedly 
 missed in Paris. The first was ice, for which " de I'eau frappee" 
 was but a poor substitute. The second, the enlivening bustle 
 of a fire, with the hubbub of bells, the clatter of the engines, and 
 the shouts of the boys. There are fires here, but one rarely hears 
 of them, even through the papers. In the absence of loaded 
 trucks and the din of mercantile business, the noise of Paris 
 becomes monotonous. But once in seven months did I hear the 
 shrill jingle of a dray load of iron ; it was true home music. 
 The excitement of a fire, I frequently thought would be a pleas- 
 ing relief 
 
 However, I had not lived long in Paris before I found it pos- 
 sessed advantages in the way of excitement peculiar to itself, 
 amply compensating for its disadvantages in the above mentioned 
 respects. 
 
 It was the 2d of December, of the past year. I had arisen at 
 my usual hour, breakfasted, read Galignani, and the Constitu- 
 tionnel, my morning papers, without finding an item of interest, 
 and as the morning was sombre, had prepared myself for a day 
 of more than ordinary quiet. Toward one o'clock, a French 
 lady dropped in. She was somewhat excited, and I inquired the 
 reason. " "What," said she, " have you not heard the news ? 
 There is a revolution. Paris is in a state of siege. The troops 
 are all in the streets — the National Assembly is dissolved — most 
 of the members are imprisoned — the railroad tracks are torn up 
 to prevent the provinces from marching upon the city — Louis 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 249 
 
 Napoleon is Emperor ;" and thus she rattled off a volley of 
 news, that was genuine news indeed. 
 
 I immediately went out. The good citizens of Paris, who 
 had gone to bed under a republic, were just leaving their break- 
 fast tables to read the proclamations which announced to them 
 it had suddenly departed this life, forgetting to add, however, 
 leaving a numerous and afflicted family. Those who had most 
 at stake in this violent change, knew nothing of it until it had 
 been old news by some hours in London. 
 
 I passed along the boulevards and the usual resorts of business. 
 All the shops were closed. Groups read in silence the notices, 
 and quietly dispersed. This part of the city, usually so rife with 
 life, appeared as if stunned by a violent blow. Men held their 
 breaths. It was not the settled composure with which the seaman 
 looks upon the coming storm, but the anxiety and terror with 
 which is awaited an expected earthquake. 
 
 The public gardens and Palais Royal were closed. There 
 was no thought of amusement. The Champs Elysees, Place 
 Madeleine, and every avenue leading to the Palais Bourbon and 
 residence of Louis !Napoleon, were filled with dense masses of 
 troops in fighting order. More than fifty thousand were under 
 arms. They, too, were awaiting, they knew not what — but 
 ready at the order of their chiefs to rise and slay. Certain streets 
 were closed ; those who had homes therein, found no little diffi- 
 culty in reaching them. 
 
 That evening the celebrated Jesuist, Le Ventura, was to preach 
 at Notre Dame. I started early to obtain admission, as he al- 
 ways draws a multitude. By this time, six o'clock, the troops 
 had returned to their barracks, and Paris looked as gay and busy 
 as on the preceding evening. The church was closed; nothing 
 was permitted at this juncture that would attract the crowd to 
 one spot. News boys were crying at every corner the dissolution 
 of the National Assembly, and the other stringent measures of 
 
250 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 the President. The people had begun to discuss them ; the first 
 sentiments were admiration at the cleverness with which it had 
 been done. The President had conversed even till midnight in 
 the most friendly manner at the Elysee with his opponents. No 
 agitation announced the desperate throw he had then resolved 
 to make of his political dice. Yet his head was upon the cast, 
 and if successful he foresaw that blood was to be shed. In four 
 hours the deed was done. Every printing press, not his own, 
 seized. The Assembly dissolved. The legislative halls closed. 
 Those in whose hands the grasp of his own was scarcely cold, 
 arrested and in prison. Thiers wept, and was alternately fool 
 and coward — Cavaignac, dignified — Changarnier haughty, and 
 Lamoriciere, pugnacious. None whom Napoleon feared were 
 spared. His selection was admirable. Not a leader of any 
 party except his own was exempted from the call to exchange 
 a warm bed at four o'clock of a winter's morning for a stone cell 
 at Vincennes, or the prison Mazas. Each had the honor of a 
 special attendance — no questions were answered as to the object 
 of their imprisonment or their probable fate. In twelve hours 
 the bourgeoisie exclaimed, " c'est bien fait !" and were ready to 
 go on with their amusements. 
 
 On the 3d there was more excitement. The secret societies 
 were at work. The reds were recovering from their astonish- 
 ment ; ex-members of the National Assembly harangued the 
 multitude, and circulated addresses to arouse the people to resist- 
 ance. The result was several barricades, which were speedily 
 carried by the troops, with some loss on both sides. On the part 
 of the government, the proclamations became more stringent. 
 Carriages were forbidden to circulate, or the inhabitants to ap- 
 pear in the streets. Those taken near any barricade with arms 
 about them were to be put to death. 
 
 In the evening there was shouting ; inflammatory speeches ; 
 the rallying cries of parties. Immense human masses on the 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 251 
 
 boulevards and the quays heaved to and fro in sullen anger, like 
 the swell of the ocean before an approaching storm. Individuals 
 ran from group to group muttering curses upon the usurper. 
 Some said the excitement would spend itself in words ; others, 
 that Louis Napoleon would be killed within forty-eight hours. 
 The police charged repeatedly on the crowds, which, in return, 
 mocked at them. I looked quietly on, and became convinced 
 that the back of the Parisian tiger was up, and was preparing 
 for a leap. 
 
 The next morning was the fourth. There was not much stir- 
 ring ; the shops were generally closed. I went to the Rue de 
 Jeuneurs, where I had business. This was before mid-day. As 
 I approached this street, I saw crowds running through it, panic 
 struck, while the residents were barring their windows and 
 closing their doors. I asked the cause. All were too much 
 frightened to speak inteUigently. Some thought the faubourgs 
 were rising, and others that the troops were approaching ; each 
 added to the alarm of his neighbor. At last I learned that bar- 
 ricades were being erected at the Porte St. Denis on the boule- 
 vard of that name. 
 
 Being curious to see a barricade, I pushed directly for the spot. 
 On arrival, I found the work going bravely on. Four were al- 
 ready commenced at different intervals in the boulevard. Stag- 
 ings had been torn from unfinished houses ; iron railings from 
 the magnificent gate-way ; trees were cut down ; all those name- 
 less buildings, at once so convenient and so disgraceful, to this 
 fashionable avenue, were demolished, and their materials added 
 to the fortifications. Carts, carriages, and omnibuses were tri- 
 umphantly dragged from hiding places, amid shouts of exultation, 
 to add to the monster piles. The stout iron railing and massive 
 gtone wall which protects the side walk from the street, long re- 
 sisted the efforts of destruction. Crow-bars, and the united 
 strength of several hundred men at last brought it down. Pave- 
 
252 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 ments were torn up, and shaped into breast-works. The barri- 
 cades soon began to assume a formidable appearance, and to any 
 force but artillery were well nigh impregnable. They were fur- 
 ther strengthened by ropes, which bound firmly together the dis- 
 jointed parts. There were not very many at work, but those 
 who were, labored like beavers, and evidently knew their trade. 
 Blouses and broadcloth were about equally mixed. Neither 
 were there many spectators. All sorts of rumors were in circu- 
 lation. The army, it was said, had left Paris, to defend the city 
 against the troops coming in from the neighboring cities — such 
 a regiment had revolted ; the National Guards were arming ; in 
 short, every species of tale to encourage and exasperate the ene- 
 mies of the President, was circulated by agents of the political 
 parties of the late Assembly. 
 
 Having completed the barricades, the mob burst into the near- 
 est guard-house, with wild shouts, sacked it, placed its flag on 
 their most formidable fortification, and used the materials to fur- 
 ther strengthen their quarters. The small force usually there 
 had been withdrawn or it would have been massacred. 
 
 Sinister individuals in blouses armed with cutlasses, muskets, 
 and pistols, began to appear. These acted as leaders. They 
 broke into all the neighboring shops and searched the houses for 
 arms. "When any were found, they marked in chalk on the 
 building, "arms given; death to robbers." From one of the 
 theatres they procured a few muskets and a drum. These were 
 hailed with shouts of joy, and a party began beating the rappel 
 through the adjacent streets. 
 
 I was surprised to see how many boys there were in their 
 ranks. They went to work in all these violences as if on a frolic, 
 light-hearted, and even jovial. From their manner, I should 
 rather have supposed that they were gathering materials for a 
 rustic fair, than for a struggle in which no quarters would be 
 given. I saddened to think how many that I saw so busy around 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 253 
 
 me, would be shot or bayonetted before night. The comments 
 of the spectators varied ; some said, let the rascals go ahead — 
 they wish to plunder and kill — they will soon be taught a good 
 lesson ; others encouraged. One man asked me if I were Ger- 
 man or English ; on my replying that I was an American, 
 " Ah I" said he, with a sigh, " you live in a true republic." 
 
 I asked a fine looking boy of about fourteen, in a school uni- 
 form, with a stick in his hand, at the end of which was a bayo- 
 net, what he intended doing ; " you are too young to fight." 
 He laughed, brandished his weapon, and ran off to join a crowd, 
 listening to the reading of a proclamation announcing the deposi- 
 tion of Louis Napoleon, and calling upon the Parisians to give 
 their allegiance to the provisional government formed by such of 
 the members of the late Assembly as had escaped arrest. 
 
 A rough looking fellow, armed with a musket, who seemed to 
 have authority, came up to me, and said, " If you are one of the 
 curious, you had better be off," I thought so too, as appearances 
 began to wear a serious aspect. The houses overlooking the 
 barricades were taken possession of, and garrisoned ; sentinels were 
 placed at the principal points ; the non-combatants were mostly 
 gone, and few but fighters left. I had been there less than two 
 hours ; yet, so rapidly had the mob worked, that all the streets 
 opening upon this vicinity, were already fortified. I was forced 
 to climb three barricades, politely assisted over one by an armed 
 lad in a blouse, before getting clear of their line of operations. 
 It was most injudiciously chosen, for it could be attacked to 
 equal advantage in front and rear ; and their flanks were also 
 exposed. 
 
 I found the boulevards below almost deserted. A brigade of 
 infantry and artillery were just turning the corner of the street, 
 marching without music, slowly, toward the first barricade. Be- 
 fore reaching it, they halted. One half the artillery passed in 
 front, and was pointed toward the breastworks ; the other was 
 
254 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 loaded with grape, and pointed in the other direction. The few 
 persons about saluted the troops with " Vive la Republique." 
 The commanding officer ordered the boulevard to be cleared. 
 The troops charged upon us, and we slipped out of the way by 
 the side streets. 
 
 I then walked down the Rue Montmartre, where I saw simi- 
 lar scenes. Coming out again upon the Boulevard des Italiens, 
 I found the entire length of the boulevard, from the spot I first 
 left, filled with troops, in order of battle. The line extended 
 into the Rue de la Paix. It was a stirring spectacle to witness 
 regiment after regiment of artillery, cavalry, and infantry, pass 
 up this noble avenue, to take their stations. In the novelty and 
 beauty of their array, I quite lost sight of the fact that they were 
 ordered out to slaughter these misguided people I had so recent- 
 ly left. At one time they cleared the sidewalks, and allowed no 
 one to approach their lines. The sentinels, however, for some 
 inexplicable cause, were shortly removed ; and those of the pop- 
 ulace who had more curiosity than fear, allowed to pass along 
 as far as the Boulevard Bonne Nouvelle. This led to the mel- 
 ancholy slaughter of thirty-five individuals, and the wounding of 
 a large number, soon after on the Boulevard Montmartre, just 
 above where I was. Opposite me was the 7th Lancers ; a fine 
 corps, recently arrived in Paris. 
 
 I stood talking with a friend, when, from the upper end of 
 the line, the discharge of cannon was heard, followed by a blaze 
 of musketry and a general charge. The stragglers on the boule- 
 vards took to flight in all directions. They pitched headlong 
 into open doors, or loudly demanded entrance at the closed. I 
 was fortunate enough to get into a neighboring carriage way, 
 through the grated " porte cochere" of which I could see what 
 was going on. The firing was tremendous. Volley followed 
 volley so fast, that it seemed like one continued peal of thunder. 
 Suddenly there was a louder and nearer crash ; the cavalry in 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 255 
 
 front of me wavered ; and then, as if struck with panic, turned, 
 and rushed in disorder down the street, making the ground trem- 
 ble under their tread, "What could have occurred ! The first 
 supposition was, that the different regiments had turned their 
 arms upon each other. Another that the reds had proved too 
 strong for the troops. In a few minutes the horsemen came 
 charging back, firing their pistols on all sides. Then came in 
 quick succession the orders " To shut all windows ; to keep out 
 of sight ; to open the blinds, &c." It seemed an unexpected 
 fire had been opened upon the soldiers, from some of the houses 
 above, by which they at first suffered so severely as to cause a 
 recoil. The roar of firearms was now tremendous. Mortars 
 and cannon were directed point blank at the suspicious houses, 
 within a few rods distance, and fired. They were then carried 
 by assault. 
 
 The rattle of small shot against windows and walls was inces- 
 sant. This was too in the finest part of the boulevards Costly 
 houses were completely riddled ; their fronts were knocked in ; 
 balls passed through the various floors, and lodged finally where- 
 ever their spent force destined them. The windows were de- 
 stroyed by the concussion, of the cannon ; and, as for the outer 
 walls, they looked as if a thunder-storm of bullets had passed 
 over them. They were literally peppered with lead from cellar 
 to roof Some balls had passed through panes of glass, leaving 
 holes as true and clear of their exact size, as if they had been 
 cut out by a diamond. Of the hair-breadth escapes of the in- 
 mates, and the general destruction of property, I need not speak. 
 The government afterward footed all the bills for the last. The 
 firing continued for nearly an hour, and then receded to more 
 distant parts of the city ; for the field of combat embraced an 
 area of several miles, and there were some 40,000 troops en- 
 gaged. 
 
 As soon as I could with safety, I left my covert ; and, by back 
 
256 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 streets, endeavoured to get near enough to the barricades, to see 
 what work had been done there. It was now quite dark. The 
 troops guarded every possible avenue, and fired upon all who 
 approached the interdicted spots. The streets in this vicinity- 
 were almost wholly deserted. The few that were to be seen, 
 cautiously peered round the corners, but did not venture to show 
 themselves. Not knowing the danger, I attempted to go upon 
 the boulevards by the Rue Montmartre. As I walked up the 
 street I noticed the marks of the balls that had glanced along 
 the houses. There was a large pool of blood, but the corpses 
 had been removed. I had nearly reached the corner, when an 
 officer rushed out, and ordered me back in a tone which I thought 
 most prudent to obey. As I was alone, and he had probably 
 seen enough blood-shed that afternoon, he did nothing worse. 1 
 turned into the first cross street, and there saw a well dressed 
 man, gasping on a rude bier. Those who had picked him up 
 said he had six balls in him. In the Rue Richelieu, there was 
 the corpse of a young girl. Some one had placed lighted can- 
 dles at her head and feet. 
 
 Emerging from the line of soldiers as 1 reached the parts of the 
 city removed from their surveillance, I noticed a bitter feeling 
 among the better classes for the day's work. The slaughter 
 was, as it always is, in the heat of a battle, greatly exaggerated. 
 Still it was with no gratifying emotions that one could reduce 
 it, even to a few hundred. It was civil war — fratricide. I 
 reached home indignant and mournful. 
 
 The soldiers have been justly blamed for firing upon the un- 
 armed. Those who fought at the barricades knew the penalty 
 of defeat. The inhabitants had been ordered not to appear in 
 the streets. Those who suffered, forgot the danger in their curi- 
 osity. One gentleman met his death by standing at a distant 
 corner and looking at the troops with a spy-glass. It was mis- 
 taken for a musket, and he fell, pierced with several balls 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 257 
 
 Those who were killed on the Boulevard Montmatre were 
 non-combatants, but suffered from their rashness. The public 
 feeling in such cases is ever severe on the soldier. But in ex- 
 tenuation it should be remembered, that his exposed position in 
 a street, fired upon from houses on both sides, is by no means 
 calculated to insure coolness and judgment. His enemies are 
 unseen, and he knows, from fatal experience, that a socialist 
 gives no quarter. Several of his comrades had been basely as- 
 sassinated in the public ways. Numbers had already fallen from 
 the fire of his ambushed foes. In the heat of revenge he believes 
 every citizen's coat to cover an assassin, and kills without pity. 
 
 In the evening I again attempted to go up the boulevards. 
 Squadrons of lancers were on guard, and brigades of infantry 
 bivouacked on the side- walks. The public were permitted to go 
 as far as the Rue Lafitte, but obliged to walk quickly, and not 
 allowed to stop for an instant. Horsemen with loaded pistols 
 stood at each corner, and if there was the slightest hesitation, 
 or if two individuals spoke to each other, they pointed them 
 directly upon the delinquents, and ordered them to pass on. 
 The cavalry, with their lances in rest, charged repeatedly upon 
 groups accidentally formed. In passing the length only of a 
 square I was obliged to run twice ; and once had just time to 
 dodge under the projecting angle of a house as the troops swept 
 by. These charges were intended simply to intimidate and pre- 
 vent collections of people. The French rule is to run at the 
 sight of a soldier. There is more danger from the panic of the 
 crowd than from the military. I concluded an accident was 
 as liable to occur to me as any one else, and returned home, fully 
 satisfied by what I had seen during the day, that street fighting 
 in Paris is a serious matter. 
 
 Louis Napoleon proclaimed himself master of France, Decem- 
 ber 2d. The 4th of December made him master. It was a 
 terrible lesson deliberately planned, and intended as such by him. 
 
258 PAUISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 I say planned, for the Minister of War, in his official report, says, 
 " The troops were withdrawn, and the insurgents allowed to 
 build their barricades unmolested, that the insurrection might 
 come to a head and be extinguished at one blow." It left me 
 nothing to covet in the political institutions of France, but more 
 to love in those of my own country. The poor wretches who 
 suffered most were mere hirelings. A French gentleman of my 
 acquaintance, whose house was near one of the barricades, said 
 a few days afterward to the sentinel in front of his door, " The 
 soldiers have behaved well." " Ah !" repUed the man, " it 
 pleases you to say so, but my heart is heavy this morning." 
 " Why so ?" "I was drawn with a number of my comrades to 
 shoot thirty prisoners condemned to death. As they marched to 
 the place of execution, they said to one another, it was hard to 
 die for ten francs." 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 LOUIS NAPOLEON. 
 
 France still bears the name of a Republic. Her only claim 
 to the title is universal suffrage. It is evident, however, that 
 the government, by its secret machinery, is able to make even 
 this nominal liberty subservient to its own objects. If it do 
 not, it will be because Louis Napoleon possesses more public 
 virtue than is in general attributed to him. 
 
 The inhabitants of the United States naturally take a lively 
 interest in the cause of political freedom and democratic institu- 
 tions. The events of 1848 were hailed by them with joy, as 
 indicating the progress of republican ideas. What has been the 
 result ? In three years republicanism has become extinct in 
 Europe, while monarchy has not only regained its lost ground, 
 but almost annihilated every vestige of freedom. 
 
 Why is this ? In the United States every movement of the 
 people is an onward one. Religion, education, and liberal insti- 
 tutions march together. In Europe, liberty burns for a while 
 with a fierce, destructive flame — and then expires. It has no 
 store of fuel. Take France, for example, which has oftenest 
 tried her fortune under the republican banner. Her citizens are 
 second in courage to none ; light, chivalric, and impetuous, their 
 patriotism flashes brilliantly in wonderful efforts, but sinks under 
 protracted and unostentatious labor. They are easily led by 
 honor, but restless under restraint. The Due de Richelieu hap- 
 pily illustrates this trait, in relating the effect of a speech of his 
 to his troops, at the attack on Minorca. Great drunkenness and 
 demoralization prevailed in his camp, and the officers counseled 
 
260 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FUENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 severe measures to put an end to the scandal. He understood 
 French nature better. Passing the army in review before him, 
 he thus addressed them : " Soldiers I grenadiers ! I declare to 
 you, that those who hereafter get drunk shall not have the 
 honor to join in the assault I am about to make on the Fort St. 
 Philippe." This put an end to the vice, and the fort, which 
 was considered almost impregnable, was carried by their reck- 
 less bravery. Richelieu adds, that if his troops had been En- 
 glish, he should have flogged them. With this discipline and 
 plenty of roast beef, he says, they fight well enough. An Anglo- 
 American meets his warmest friend, gives a careless nod, and 
 passes on. A Frenchman, on the contrary, rushes into his arms, 
 and kisses both cheeks. Yet the coldness of the former covers 
 more sincerity than the ardor of the latter. 
 
 The discarded Bourbon cock is the most fitting type of the 
 French character, in more respects than one. Like that bird, it 
 can bear no rival. It is brave, quick, gallant, and showy : more 
 fond of war than peace, and impatient of that beaver-like indus- 
 try, by which alone a republic can flourish. 
 
 Thus the elements of Gallic character are, in themselves, 
 adverse to sober, calculating, persevering republicanism. To 
 these are to be added the education and associations of fifteen 
 centuries of monarchy or feudalism. Some of the most import- 
 ant of civil rights have been acquired by the people, but they 
 continue as unrepublican as ever. While the present system of 
 education remains unchanged, this must be the fact. I have 
 already given my reasons why I consider the Roman Catholic 
 religion to be adverse to republicanism. Also, the centralism 
 and emasculating policy of the government in its system of 
 police and forcible constraint of individual enterprise ; still more 
 in its preference of ornament to utility ; amusements to educa- 
 tion ; but, above all, in the principles inculcated in the youth by 
 the discipline to which they are subjected, which of themselves 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 261 
 
 undermines the very base of individual reliance and integrity. I 
 mean suspicion and deception. 
 
 Republicanism being unsuited to the condition and genius of 
 France, she has the alternative between a constitutional mon- 
 archy, like that of England, or an absolutism, allied to that of 
 Russia. She is as incapable of imitating England as she is the 
 United States. Nor are the social and civil institutions of 
 England adapted to her vi^ants. The loyalty that characterizes 
 an Englishman, has no corresponding feature in a Frenchman. 
 Neither has he that idolatry for rank which renders the former 
 almost servile in his homage to his superiors. Thrones, titles, 
 and castes have experienced too many fluctuations in France to be 
 viewed with veneration. It is one of the most promising points 
 of the national character, that the individual in France is gauged 
 solely on his own merits. Nowhere is talent more honored and 
 appreciated, or society more free from petty conventionalities. 
 
 Legitimacy in France is an obsolete idea. The Bourbons have no 
 leader to offer suited to the nation. The noblesse, who still cling 
 to the fortunes of the Count of Chambord, worship a chimera. 
 Theirs is like the age of gold ; it grows brighter in their imagina- 
 tions as it recedes. It is the selfish ambition of a titled few, and 
 can never again have weight with the nation. Louis Philippe was 
 more wedded to his money-bags and family aggrandizement, than 
 to the welfare of France. He attained the throne by meanness, and 
 lost it by weakness. His ancestors were the curse of the country, 
 and his children are no objects of its attachment. Their influence 
 was solely through their wealth and those who, like Thiers, 
 sought to elevate their own fortunes by the Orleans' name. 
 
 There did exist, however, a man of the people — the roughest 
 master they ever had. Him, they loved as they have loved no 
 other sovereign. He stamped his name on their hearts by the 
 deeds they esteem, by the works they admire ; and, deeper than 
 all, by that Code which is his greenest laurel. The name of 
 
262 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FEENCH PRINCIPLES, 
 
 Napoleon is the most popular one of France. It was his name 
 alone that elected his nephew. 
 
 Of the character of Louis Napoleon, the six millions of French- 
 men who voted him the President of the Republic, knew no- 
 thing. They cast the souvenirs of his uncle into the electoral 
 urns. Three years have passed, and they have learned only 
 that he is an unreadable man. Suddenly and without warning, 
 he broke his solemn oath of office — overturned the constitution 
 — drove the legislators of the people from their Hall of Assem- 
 bly by the bayonet — imprisoned and exiled the best blood and 
 talent of France — muzzled the press by a law severer than the 
 ordinance which cost Charles X. his throne — shot his fellow- 
 citizens by hundreds in the streets — rode rough-shod over all 
 classes — grasping the entire liberties of his country — and yet the 
 people confirmed his power, and his acts, by the largest vote 
 ever bestowed upon a ruler. 
 
 It was during the last election, that an aged Frenchman of 
 the provinces came to deposit his vote. " For whom do you 
 vote?" asked the officer at the polls. " For the Emperor Napo- 
 leon." " But he has long been dead." " Then I vote for his son." 
 " But he is dead also." " Very well ; the Holy Spirit must be 
 left ; I vote for him." And he cast it for Louis Bonaparte. 
 
 The mass sustain Louis Napoleon on account of his name. 
 The men of property, because his popularity is the only counter- 
 poise to the socialists. The legitimists and noblesse, that they 
 may exist in peace. As one said to me, they must eat and drink. 
 To all, he is the man of destiny. They have submitted to a greater 
 tyranny than even the Emperor dared exercise ; not that they ac- 
 cept this policy as their permanent rule — but that France, like the 
 maniac in the straight-jacket, may gradually recover her senses, 
 and learn to appreciate the blessings of rational freedom. 
 
 No ruler ever outraged constitutional liberty in a more sum- 
 mary way than Louis Napoleon. Paradoxical as it may appear, 
 
PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 263 
 
 perhaps no one has at this moment greater strength in the coun- 
 try at large. They trust him because they believe he has a 
 mission to perform — that he will save France. He has it in his 
 power to ruin or redeem her. If the selfish and vain glorious 
 policy of his uncle is to be his guide, he has every thing to fear. 
 If, on the contrary, he preserves a firm hand, relaxing, as time 
 and discipline prepare the way for popular forms of government, 
 devoting the resources entrusted to him to the moral improvement 
 and education of the people, France may be at this moment 
 nearer republicanism than she has ever yet been. 
 
 However severely his government may press upon the citizens 
 of France, the neutral stranger has no cause of complaint. No- 
 where is he better protected or more hospitably received. He is 
 required simply to abstain from intermeddling with public affairs. 
 Nor is he allowed, as in the United States, to abuse his asylum 
 by insulting the agents of friendly powers, or plotting against the 
 stability of the government that protects him. He must, however, 
 behave himself with the same propriety that is expected of a vis- 
 itor in a family — that is, to let alone its domestic concerns. 
 
 The hospitality of the United States is, as it should be, limit- 
 less. It receives all who come into the privileges of its institu- 
 tions, without question of birth, character, opinion, or fortune. 
 To do this with impunity, there must be, however, a large store 
 of domestic virtue. With the great, good, or unfortunate of 
 Europe, come also her evil spirits, disorganizers, whose highest 
 aim is revolution, that they may themselves be conspicuous. 
 Availing themselves of the attachment of the citizens of the 
 United States to those principles of freedom which are their 
 political birth-right, they would enlist them in a crusade against 
 all powers whose forms of government differ, whether those 
 nations desire or are prepared or not to receive them. England 
 intervened in the affairs of France. It cost her $2,300,000,000 
 to send Napoleon to St. Helena. Repubhcan France endeavored 
 
264 PARISIAN SIGHTS AND FRENCH PRINCIPLES. 
 
 to revolutionize Europe. Her lesson was learned when the 
 Cossacks encamped in the Champs Ely sees. If the foreign dem- 
 agogues who are now preaching hostility toward powers with 
 which the United States are on terms of amity, should succeed 
 in embroiling our country with foreign nations, we should buy 
 our experience as dearly. No one class of institutions are adapted 
 to all nations, any more than one suit of clothes will fit all men. 
 The citizens of the United States owe their unexampled 
 prosperity to peace and the policy of Washington. The same 
 doctrine which forbids European powers from intermeddling in 
 our affairs is of equal weight to prevent us from intervening in 
 theirs. Our sympathies should be limited to our hospitality. 
 If we pledge ourselves to more than this, we run the risk, not so 
 much from external assault as from internal demoralization, of 
 destroying all freedom. There is higher authority for this doc- 
 trine in the divine parable of the beam and mote. Assuredly 
 there is still scope enough within the United States for the em- 
 ployment of the entire moral energies of the nation in self-reform. 
 We have our own abuses, weaknesses, and, greater than all, the 
 tide of European emigration, to correct and purify. While we 
 seek to proselyte abroad, we are in danger of losing our own 
 faith at home. There is but one safe and honorable course for 
 Americans. To cherish their own institutions, and leave to 
 their neighbors the task of reforming their own. Example will 
 be of more weight than armed men. The one has a moral 
 force ; the other is mere muscle ; the greatest tenacity wins the 
 day. I came to Europe in all the flush of republican enthusiasm. 
 I write from it with deeper and wiser attachment to its princi- 
 ples. If I have succeeded in making a single one of my fellow 
 citizens at once more patriotic and more charitable, with a juster 
 appreciation of the causes which make nations to differ, I shall 
 feel that my experience has not been without its reward. 
 
 THE END. ' 
 
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