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OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
J^y. 
 
 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES: 
 
 / 
 
 O K, 
 
 Spare goitre of a Student 
 J n p a r i ♦ 
 
 BY 
 
 / 
 
 ^■. 
 
 AUGUSTUS KINSLEY GAR0&Er/m.d/ 
 
 // 
 
 The nse of traveling is to regulate imagination by reality ; and; instead of thinking 
 how tilings may be, to see them as they are. Johnson. 
 
 The moment that you anticipate your pen in forming a sentence, you get as stiff as 
 a gentleman in stays; I use my pen as my horse; I guide it, and it carries me on. 
 
 D'ISRAELI. 
 
 Y 
 
 V 
 
 /^7' 
 
 V 
 
 N E W-Y O RK : ^ " 
 
 C. S. FRANCIS & CO., 252 BROADWAY. 
 
 boston: 
 
 j. h. francis, 123 w a sh i n gton- street; 
 
\ 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1847, 
 
 BY. C. S. FRANCIS & CO., 
 
 Id the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New-York. 
 
 Printed by 
 
 MUNROE & FRANCIS, 
 BOSTON. 
 
 
•^ 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Dedication, -- .-.---_. ix 
 
 Preface, .------.--. xi 
 
 I. 
 Diary at Sea — Arrival at Havre — Custom-House Agreeabilities — 
 
 Ancorville and its Gardens, 1 
 
 II. 
 Traveling in France — Rouen — Paris, ------ 8 
 
 III. 
 Latin Quarter — Hospital of Hotel-Dieu, ------ 18 
 
 IV. 
 
 Catholic Religion — French Hospitals — Hotel-Dieu — Nuns — Hospital 
 
 Practice — Mons. Blandin — Dr. Mott, of New-York, - - - 22 
 
 V. 
 
 Bal Ma8qu6, 27 
 
 VI. 
 
 Condition of Women — Hair Market at Caen — Bourgeois Party — 
 
 Funerals of the Rich and the Poor, ------ 32 
 
 VII. 
 
 Musard — Mardi-Gras — P^re Goriot — Louis Philippe — Bastringues 
 — Traiteurs — Feasts — Fasts — Clergy — Confessions — Order of the 
 " Holy Cross," 38 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Weather — Fuel — Poor — Grand Opera — Viennese Dancing Girls — 
 Carlotta Grisi — Duchess d'Aumale — Princess and Prince de Join- 
 ville — Persiaiii — Mario — Julia Grisi, ------ 44 
 
 IX. 
 
 Love of Country — Danger of Assassination — Tapis-Francs — Preva- 
 lence of Crime — The Morgue — Henri Herz — Concert of Sixteen 
 Pianos and Thirty-two Players — Priests — Midwifery — Artificial 
 Ann, ------------50 
 
 X. 
 
 Fashions — Birth-Day of Washington — Ball of the American Minister 
 
 — Expenses of the Embassy — Ball of the Cafe Tortoni, - - 56 
 
 XI. 
 
 The Prado — New-Year's Day — Greetings in Private Life — To Mili- 
 tary Officers of the National Guard — To the King, by Fifteen 
 Hundred Dnimmers! — Champs Elys^es — Place Concorde — Obe- 
 lisk of Luxor — Goat Carriages — Learned Dogs — Punch and 
 Judy, - - 62 
 
 6 
 
88 
 
 93 
 
 yi CONTENTS. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Further Account of the Hotel-Dieu— Roux— Chomel— Magendie— 
 Ecole Pratique d'Anatomie— Museum of Dupuytren— Shocking 
 Effects of Secret Vice, ^' 
 
 XIII. 
 
 French Politeness— Etiquette— Necessary Expenses of Living— Cost 
 
 of Various Articles of Dress, '^ 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Medical Officers in French Hospitals— In American Hospitals— Rea- 
 son of the Difference in their Characters— System of Coucours— 
 Sketch of Velpeau's Life and Person, 77 
 
 XV. 
 
 The Grisette— Lorette— Fille Publique— Hopital Lourcine— Mons. 
 Hugier— Hopital du Midi— Ricord— Disgusting Effects of Cer- 
 tain Diseases — American Students, 83 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Gobelin Manufactory of Tapestry and Carpets— Insane Hospital " La 
 Salp^triere," for Aged and Poor Women, 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Superstition— Holy Relics— Michelet—Felicien David— His Concert 
 _F^te of Long Champs— Gen. Tom Pouce— Time and Place for 
 Making Fashions — Conservatoire Royal de Musique — Its Concert 
 — Madame Doius-Gras, 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Common Schools— Colleges— Liberty— M. Michelet— Prisons— The 
 Depot de La Prefecture de Police— The Conciergerie— Mane 
 Antoinette. ^^ 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Prisons of Paris— St. Lazare— An Actress off the Stage— Filles Fub- 
 
 iiques — Debtors' Prison, 109 
 
 XX. 
 
 Place de la Bastille— Column of July— Hotel de Ville— Palm Sunday 
 
 Education — Louvre — Relics — Horse Market — Thiers, - - 117 
 
 XXI. 
 
 English— Washing Establishment— St. Sulpice— The "Swiss"— 
 
 Chamber of Peers— Traits in French Character, - - - 123 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Arc de Triomphe — Wall of Paris — Duke of Orleans — His Death and 
 
 Mausoleum — Consequences— Successor to Louis Philippe, - 129 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Exhibition of Flov^rers and Fruit— Love of Flowers— Flower Girls- 
 Horse Races — Auber — War between England and America, - 135 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Prisons of Paris — St. Pelagie— La Force— Nou veil e Force— Its Sin- 
 gular Construction — Maison Centrale d'Education CiUTectiou- 
 nelle — Remarkable Form and Peculiar Discipline - - - 141 
 
CONTENTS. Vll 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Methods of getting a living among the Poor — Bread — ChifFoniers — 
 
 Dogs, 147 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Hopital La Charite — Gerdy — Andral — Rayer — Cruveilhier — Fou- 
 quier — Bonillard — Course of Medical Study in Paris and Amer- 
 ica com{)ared — Importance of a Special Attention to a Single 
 Branch — Dilhculties of American Physiciaus — The French and 
 American Practitioner contrasted — American Students at Paris, 156 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Celebration of the King's Birth-Day, 165 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 Versailles — The Palace — Its Cost — Desecration in 1792 — Its Resto- 
 ration by Louis Philippe — Its Embellishments, Pictures, and 
 Statues — Napoleon as he Lives on the Canvas — Effects of these 
 Paintings on a Spectator, -- 176 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Pictures, Coins, &c., in the Palace at Versailles — Chapel — Louis XIV. 
 — Opera Room — Grand Gallery of Glass — Fountains — Parterre 
 d'Eau — Ancient Orange Tree — Bassin de Neptune — Fountain of 
 Latona — Chariot of the Sun — Bassin d'Encelade — Bosquet des 
 Bassins d'ApoUon — Bassinsdes Eufans — America and her Artists, 183 
 
 XXX. 
 
 Grand Trianon — Little Ti-ianon — Private Apartments — French Gar- 
 dens — Cooper, the Pioneer American Novelist — Freedom of the 
 Press, - - 190 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Prison des .Teunes Detenus — Results of the Solitary System — D6p6t 
 de Condamncs — Personal Appearance of the Convicts — The Face 
 an Index of Character — Employments, Privileges, and Manners 
 of the Prisoners — The Sympathising Turnkey, - - - - 195 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 The Clinique — Nelaten — Midwif»^ry — H^aul Dubois — Hospital for 
 Orphans — Sisters of Charity — Private Lecturers — Chassai^nac — 
 Cazeaux — Lontret — Chailly — Breschet — Lamartine — His Speech 
 on the Removal of Napoleon's Body — Rumor of his Visit to this 
 Country — Manner of Treating Foreigners of Distinction, - - 202 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Spring — French Mothers and Children — Squares in Paris — Their 
 Great Utility — Thalberg — His Concert — Motion not Music — 
 Spontini, the Composer, 210 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 Coste on Embryology — Party at Mr. D.'s — Donne's Lectures on the 
 Circulation of the Blood — Oxygen and Hydrogen Microscope — 
 Photo-Electric Microscope — English Episcopal Church — Palais- 
 Royal — Healey, the Painter — Veterinary School — Scientific 
 Cruelty to Horses, 216 
 
Vlll CONTENTS 
 
 Comparison of the Parisian and American Prisons — Society for the 
 Aid of Boys quitting the House of Correction — Society for the 
 Aid of Abandoned Girls leaving the House of Correction, - 223 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Church at St. Denis — The Sepulchre of the French Sovereigns — 
 
 Tomb of Lafayette — P^re la Chaise, ------ 230 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 Royal Institution of the Deaf and Dumb — Abb§ de L'Ep6e — Sicard — 
 Royal Institution for the Blind — Artesian Well at Crenelle — 
 Comparison of the Royal Institution for the Blind, and the Asy- 
 lum for the Blind at South Boston — Thomas Handasyd Perkins, 242 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Rachel — Her Performance in Virginius" — Execution by the Guillo- 
 tine — Jardin des Plantes — Governor of Coney Island — Military 
 Music — The King — Count de Paris, ---,-- 252 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 The Garden of Plants — School of Botany — Menagerie — Men and 
 
 Monkeys — Beneficial Effects from Alcohol, - - - - 264 
 
 XL. 
 
 Hopital de la Piti6 — Lisfranc — Velpeau — Louis — Bourgeois Marriage 
 and Wedding Festivities — The Two Milliners — A Tender-heart- 
 ed Lawyer, _.., 274 
 
 XLI. 
 
 How do you like Paris ? — Style of the Buildings — Fires — Fire De- 
 partment — Water — Common Sewers, . - - . . 281 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Answer to " How do you like Paris?" concluded — Religion — Cook- 
 ery — Utility of a Temporary Residence in Paris, - - . 287 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Flower Markets — The Pantheon — Paintings by Gros — Tombs of Vol- 
 taire, Rousseau, Lagrange, and others, - - . . . 295 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Mint — Repugnance to the Use of Steam Power by Government — 
 Gregory XVI. — Cabinetof Coins — Medals — Jewelex's — Academy 
 of Industry, 302 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Chaumiere — Mens. Coste — Fourierites — La Democratie Pacifique — 
 Mens. Bureau and Family — Frederika Bremer — Prof. Longfel- 
 low — Observatory — Mons. Arago, - 309 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Hopital de Bicetre, and its Occupants — The Morgue, - - - 317 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 Royal Lunatic Hospital — Dr. Foville — Price of Board — Treatment — 
 Curious Practice in a part of France — Pyramidal Heads — Flat 
 Heads — Blockheads — 111 Treatment of Infants — New-Jersey 
 Hospital for the Insane — Departure from Paris, - - - - 324 
 
TO 
 
 PAUL DUBOIS, 
 
 CHEVALIER OF THE LEGION OF HONOR; PROFESSOR OF THE PARIS FACULTY OF 
 medicine; MEMBER OF THE ACADEMY OF MEDICINE, PARIS ; CHIRURGIEN ACCOUCHEUR 
 TO THE HOPITAL DES CLINiaUES AND THE MAISON d'ACCOOCHEMENT, ETC., 
 
 THROUGH WHOSE KINDNESS, A GREAT OPPORTUNITY 
 
 FOR PROFESSIONAL IMPROVEMENT WAS AFFORDED HIM, 
 
 THIS WORK 
 
 IS GRATEFULLY INSCRIBED 
 BY 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The Letters, comprising the present volume, were written in Paris 
 to the Editor of the Newark Daily Advertiser, in which print they were 
 originally published. The commendation, which they received at the 
 time from the newspaper press throughout the country, has encouraged 
 the issue of them in this form. 
 
 Though the writer's residence in the French metropolis was designed for 
 his improvement in medical science, he deemed it not incompatible with 
 this great object to make himself familiar with the language and charac- 
 teristics of the great and interesting people, with whom he was sojourn- 
 ing, and whom we ourselves resemble, in some respects, perhaps, more 
 than any other nation. And he felt, in communicating his own impres- 
 sions to the public, and his friends at home, that he was making the for- 
 mer the participators of his acquisitions — such as they were ; and the latter, 
 of some of his pleasures ; while, at the same time, the evanescent forms of a 
 multitude of objects and events obtained " a habitation and a name " in 
 his memory, by being daguerreotyped in the very moment of their van- 
 ishing away forever. 
 
 Hastily prepared, as these letters were, immediately on retumiiig from 
 the scenes described, with a body fatigued, and an excited brain, they 
 were evidently unfit for publication, without considerable revision. This 
 
 11 
 
Zll PREFACE. 
 
 was performed by the author's father, Samuel J. Gardner, Esq., to whose 
 care and talents is due much of the credit which they have received. 
 
 After all, no one must be so unreasonable, as to look for new discoveries 
 in a city, which has become the paradise of travelers, with their hundred 
 eyes and tongues. All, that now remains possible, is to observe the 
 changes of the social kaleidoscope, and copy the old materials, as they 
 group themselves in new attitudes and forms. Such is the characteristic 
 of the book, as its title was intended to express. 
 
 Save an occasional explanatory paragraph, the letters are now re- 
 printed from the columns of the newspaper, without change. Much 
 as they would be benefited by a revisal, the author has shrunk from a 
 labor, which would interfere too much with his daily professional duties. 
 
 A. K. G. 
 
 New- York, November, 1847 
 
OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 L 
 
 DiART AT Sea — Arrival at Havre — Custom House Agreeabilitiks— 
 Ancorville and its Gardens. 
 
 At Sea, October 6th. 
 
 'T IS a Tveek since my departure from New York, and I rejoice 
 to be on deck again, able to write you a few lines, with a horrible 
 nausea, however, still upon me. 
 
 Tuesday, 8th October. Lat. 41° 45'. 
 
 A fresh attack of sickness sent me below, and, in addition, 
 heavy gales have since rendered it useless to attempt to write. 
 Yesterday morning I saw a very beautiful rainbow, apparently 
 only a few rods from the ship, spanning an entire arch. I 
 remembered the old proverb, but the day proved beautiful not- 
 withstanding. On Friday last, a sudden squall of wind and rain 
 struck and nearly capsized us. Three men at the wheel, the 
 captain being one, could not move it for some moments. All 
 hands were soon on deck, and the sails were rapidly and success- 
 fully clewed up, taken in, reefed, <fec., and the danger was past ; 
 soon all was fair again. On Sunday night the captain was 
 taken severely sick, and I prescribed for him as well as my dizzi- 
 ness would permit. The wind freshened into a gale and blew 
 much harder than on the day I intended to have sailed. I went 
 on deck several times, and beheld the beauty and grandeur of 
 the waves. 
 
 1 
 
OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 After the wind had been blowing a gale all day, toward night 
 the sea was literally mountainous ; nor were the waves more 
 remarkable for size, than color. Just as they broke, their dark 
 blue changed to — what shall I call it ? — another shade of blue, 
 perhaps, but so indescribably resplendent and dazzling, that I 
 am convinced the sublime pencil of Titian himself never caught 
 so celestial a tint. To-day a large hawk, perhaps an eagle, 
 lighted for some minutes on our yards, but, as if in derision of 
 our white canvass, soon spread his wings, and sailed around 
 and off. 
 
 Friday. Lat. 41° 54' Long. 45° 25'. 
 
 Several days, you see, are passed since I last wrote, and I 
 cannot perceive that I am any nearer the promised land, than 
 before. The captain jocosely remarks, that we are now about 
 " half seas over," and then — " what then ?" as Sterne says. 
 We have an excellent captain, crew and ship. 
 
 Sunday, 13th. — How tiresome is a sea life ! I cannot conceive, 
 how a bustling yankee can ever get inured to it. 
 
 Tuesday, 2 2d Oct. — While you are imagining me near my port 
 of destination, I am, on the contrary, many hundred miles away, 
 viz: in long. 18° lat. 43° 5'. We have had, since I last wrote, 
 a succession of squally weather and head winds, (fee. It seems 
 to me, that there is but one place, to which I desire to go suffi- 
 ciently to make another voyage, and that is — Home. Methinks 
 I shall have grey hairs before I see France. 
 
 " A life on the ocean wave, and a home on the rolling deep," 
 
 is very good poetry, but to my taste an indifferent sort of house- 
 keeping. " The cloud-kissing waves," and the " foam-crested 
 sea," one may imagine to look very pretty, but — when the waves 
 kiss the clouds, because the latter stoop to the embrace, and 
 when the bowels of the spectator yearn, not with sympathy and 
 tenderness, but sea-sickness — 't is quite a different matter. 
 
 Sunday, 27th. — Doubtless you are figuring to yourselves mv 
 occupation in Paris ; but, alas, I am yet many a mile distant. 
 The smart S. W. winds, which have blown for the last two days 
 have buoyed us along the Scilly Isles. Last evening the wind 
 
ARRIVAL AT HAVRE. 3 
 
 changed to S. E. by E. which entirely prevents our entering 
 the Channel, and here we lie, beating about with a heavy sea, in 
 the company of several vessels. I have been amused during the 
 last week in watching some porpoises gamboling around our 
 ship ; and this morning was wet through while standing on deck, 
 by the spray from a wave, which broke against our side. 
 
 Wednesday. — Last evening spoke a London packet, who will 
 probably report us. The English -far-famed fog envelops us. 
 closely. A very heavy rolling sea causes a return of sickness. 
 
 Saturday evening, Nov. 2d. — ^Stili in the Channel — wind yet 
 ahead — over 33 days out. Last night it blew the heaviest gale 
 we have had yet, and we had a lee shore. Butter, potatoes and 
 fresh provisions long ago gone. Shall we ever get in? The 
 Lord only knows. 
 
 Saturday, Nov. 3d. — This is truly a fine day, though it has 
 snowed, and the heavens are filled with clouds, and the weather 
 very cold ; for I have seen land — the pilot is on board — and to- 
 morrow, (what a blessed word to-morrow is !) I shall go on 
 shore ! The St. Nicholas, being one day ahead, has been in port 
 eight days, having entered the Channel just before we were blown 
 oflF. My fingers and feet are covered with chilblains, and my red 
 nose projects fiercely through my mustache and beard. 
 
 Wednesday, 6th, — Havre, where I arrived last evening at five 
 p. M. still retains me. Sunday morning we arrived in the Roads, 
 and there we lay till last evening, as the water was not high 
 enough for the ship to enter the dock gates. 
 
 After so long a period spent on ship-board, one could almost 
 find happiness on a barren island. A ship has been compared to 
 many things — I would give it the title of menagerie, for besides 
 whales, porpoises and sharks, you see strange beasts there, 
 which, though inferior in size, do not affect the feelings less. 
 Such is the bed-bug, " the red rover of the sea," and the more 
 agile flea, which always swarm in cotton laden ships. Both are 
 rare " phlebotomizers." The little dark weevil finding his kingdom 
 in the crevices of the ship -bread " taken from him and given to a 
 stranger," flies for his life, as you raise it to your lips. To these 
 one soon becomes accustomed as well as to the rats, who nightly 
 
OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 open avenues through your clothes to the damty crumb concealed 
 in some of their folds. Sea-sickness may be enjoyed a fortnight 
 together on your back, and also a sudden translation from the 
 berth to the middle of the cabin floor, as the ship may chance 
 to take a sudden lurch — when they are over. 
 
 We must leave these things, however pleasant in the recollec- 
 tion, and observe the ship, as she enters the dock. Sunday 
 morning, we arrived in the Roads, and there we lay till last even- 
 ing, as the water was not high enough to enter the dock gates. 
 These docks are but large basins of water confined by gates, not 
 differing, except in magnitude, from those of our canals. The 
 tide here rising and falling twenty feet, the rush of water other- 
 wise would leave them exposed to danger from the bottom, when 
 heavily laden, from its shallowness at ebb tide. Into this dock 
 we rushed with all the speed, which a flood tide, a strong wind 
 behind and a stronger swell from the Channel could give us. To 
 the unaccustomed eye, we were in constant danger of running 
 into the pier-head, whose massive buttresses project far into the 
 sea, or the shipping moored along its sides. Fortunately, just as 
 the danger seemed imminent, a hawser, apparently stretched by 
 unknown hands, restrained our headlong course. The quay is 
 crowded with people, whose uncouth garments divert the 
 attention from the imaginary danger. 
 
 The pier is the grand promenade for the city ; and ladies, 
 soldiers, peasants — ^the whole community almost, are gathered 
 there to witness the entrance of two large American ships and 
 other smaller craft. We hastened from the ship to the hotel, 
 fortunately escaping the search by the pohce, a fate which my 
 trunk suffered most unmercifully the next morning. The numer- 
 ous soldiery, who throng the city, seem to have little else to 
 do, except poking into trunks and carpet bags, stirring up the 
 dirty clothes, and snuffing every odor, while on the scent for tobac- 
 co. The manufacture and sale of this noisome weed are a monopoly 
 of the king, and the search is therefore very severe. Notwith- 
 standing this, three thousand cigars were smuggled ashore in the 
 following ingenious manner. Two carpet bags were obtained 
 similar to one another. Both were carried to the custom house. 
 
ANCORVILLE AND ITS GARDENS. 
 
 One contained the greater part, and the other a quarter box only. 
 This last was openly displayed in the mouth of the bag and the 
 duties promptly paid. Gulled by this stratagem the other was 
 scarcely opened. At a subsequent period, a bearer of despatches 
 to our embassy, covered the boxes with the yellowish paper, tied 
 vnth red tape, sealed with numerous red wax seals, stamped 
 with the eagle found on a half dollar, and thus passed some 
 thousands of cigars, imquestioned, through the hands of those 
 who did not know that on the American coat of arms, there were 
 no "50 cents " stamped at the bottom. 
 
 I am at "Wheeler's Hotel, a very comfortable house, where 
 English is spoken, and have employed myself to-day in traversing 
 the city, and noting its peculiarities ; the women, who are em- 
 ployed in every menial service — scraping the streets — riding the 
 little jackasses, behind two immense panniers, stuffed with all 
 kinds of provisions — the peculiar shaped houses — dark and dirty, 
 frequently seven and eight stories high. Linen bed clothes this 
 season of the year are no addition to the warmth of their elastic 
 beds. Fires are in general use, so cold it is. I shall leave for 
 Rouen by the diligence day after to-morrow, the boat having 
 ceased running. Found an agreeable companion in an English 
 clergyman, who described the theatre to me, and a particular 
 play with great fervor. Saw also this morning a funeral — a 
 priest followed by a boy bearing a pine coffin covered with a 
 black cloth, and a man following, probably the mourner, but who 
 was gazing around with great unconcern. At eight p. m. a band of 
 thirteen drummers marched through the streets, calling the 
 soldiers to their quarters for the night. 
 
 The city of Havre contains but little worthy of notice. The church 
 of Notre Dame, the docks and the hospital, are the principal objects 
 of interest. A building for a museum is now erecting. It is 
 made of a soft native stone. The walls are made of the large 
 pieces placed in proper order, but unhewn and almost shapeless. 
 After these are erected, the stone is then worked and pillars are 
 hammered out and ornamented with Corinthian capitals, &c. 
 
 The village of Ancorville, separated from the city by a wall 
 and moat, is the rvisidtnce of the wealtliy. It is situated on a 
 
OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 high bluff, commanding a fine view of the city proper, with the 
 bay and river Seine stretching for several miles. The buildings 
 are much finer than those in the city, though not pleasing to the 
 American eye, accustomed to white houses and green blinds. 
 They are built of half-burned brick, with walls nearly two feet 
 in thickness, and covered with plaster of such a dingy color, that, 
 noticinor shavings, &c. around a house, it is difficult to tell, whether 
 they are building a new or repairing an old one. The gardens, 
 however, make up the deficiency. I visited several, one very 
 splendid, belonging to Jeremiah Winslow, a Boston man. Its 
 winding walks were ornamented by the immense ribs and vertebrse 
 of the whale. Even at this late season, it was covered with flowers. 
 Among them was the Bengal rose, which we call the double 
 Dutch, similar to C.'s, growing in great profusion, full of blos- 
 soms. It is left out of doors all winter, and blooms ten months 
 m the year. The Laurestinus, too, with its fragrant flowers, 
 resists the frosts of winter, uninjured. They are both fre- 
 quently in bloom on Christmas. Rhododendrons, Cape Jes- 
 samines, are evergreens. The far-famed Holly and Ivy are 
 also abundant. The former has a very rich green leaf, scolloj)ed, 
 bearing on each point a thorn. I also visited a small private 
 green-house, not very showy at present, and quite similar to 
 our own. 
 
 The soldiers stationed here number three hundred, and con- 
 stitute the most striking objects of notice. They officiate as 
 sentries, police, and custom house officers. Their uniform is in 
 horrible taste. The only excuse for it is its alleged cheapness. 
 They look, as if, roused from their slumbers by a fire in their own 
 dwelling, they had seized the first clothing near them, and appear 
 in scarlet flannel drawers, but partially concealed by a blue sur- 
 tout. Such coat-tails must certainly impede locomotion. 
 
 The antiquarian may hasten to see the old tower, so conspicuous 
 as we enter, which the guide books say was the place where Ma- 
 zarin confined the princes of Conde and Conti, and where Francis 
 I. was entertained by the early inhabitants. He may pore over 
 the falhng stones, and pick up a rusty nail for a souvenir ; — my 
 
 I 
 
THE THEATRE— LA DAME BLANCHE. 
 
 taste seeks rather for the living and breathing works of the pres- 
 ent, than the dilapidated monuments of the past. 
 
 After two days' experience, I find that I have less difficulty 
 each day in speaking the httle French I have occasion for. I 
 think I shall soon acquire it. To-morrow I shall visit the Hospi- 
 tal, and at five dine with Mr. R. E., brother of G. B. E., of Bos- 
 ton, to whom I had a letter, directed to Paris, whence he has 
 lately arrived. You would be amused to see me walking about 
 the streets, ever and anon consulting a small dictionary for aid in 
 understanding some notice at the corners ; or, when asking the 
 way, stopping to look out a word in the midst of my speech. 
 The horses are of the large Normandy breed, much larger than 
 the Pennsylvania horse ; I saw one to-day going apparently with 
 much ease, drawing on a truck, like those at Boston, two hogs- 
 heads of molasses and five boxes of sugar, a half of which in 
 Boston is a load for two. 
 
 11 o'clock, — I have just returned from the theatre, the old 
 one was burnt, and this has been open but a fortnight ; I there- 
 fore saw it in all its freshness. It is said to be a tasteful building, 
 though small. *' They did " the Opera of La Dame Blanche, 
 with an orchestra of thirty-three instruments, played finely. The 
 singing was not so good as I expected. I have postponed my 
 departure for Rouen till Saturday morning, where I shall remain 
 for three or four days, and then — for Paris, 
 
II. 
 
 Travelling in France — Rouen — Paris. 
 
 Leaving Havre, as I told you, I embarked for Rouen, in the 
 far-famed Diligence, which is associated with so many tales of 
 joy and sorrow. A queer vehicle it is, I assure you, propelled 
 sometimes by five horses, sometimes by nine, and I do not des- 
 pair, after being here a few days more, of finding as many as 
 often have the honor of drawing, in my own dear country, some 
 symbol of a great principle on our grand procession fetes. The 
 cattle I am now speaking of, however, as far as I can see, have 
 the task of transporting only a quantity of heavy luggage and 
 sundry fat and lean people, as the case may be. For this pur- 
 pose, five are the least number on the Diligences at a time ; two 
 at "the wheel," and three abreast, *'on lead." The next addi- 
 tional horse goes on the wheel. The next three ahead of all ; 
 these are always governed by a postilion. With you, the driver 
 has a rein for every beast, you know ; but here, there are never 
 more than four reins, and these are attached to the outer horses. 
 A postilion sometimes rides on the ** near leader." But the out- 
 fit is not yet complete. As the soldier is omnipresent in France* 
 one rides, of course, on the banquette, which is a top with a co- 
 vering like a chaise. An imposing office this, for he pays each 
 driver his daily stipend of twenty-five cents, and shouts to the 
 passengers that intercept the way, with a stentorian voice, who 
 all turn out to make room for the cominor avalanche. The inside 
 is divided into three apartments, variously furnished. More room 
 is allowed in some than in others, and the price is proportionate. 
 This is my introduction to the principle of graduation, which is 
 by no means offensive, while submission to it is voluntary, as it is 
 here and on the railways. Accordingly, I ascended to the ban- 
 
 8 
 
ROUEN— THE CATHEDRAL. 
 
 quette to obtain the best view of the rich scenery, that is spread 
 out on every side. It affords a complete shelter from the wea- 
 ther, and the glass windows, which can be dropped in front, open 
 to the view of the stranger the country through which we are 
 passing. It is the second or third division in point of expense. 
 The prospect is exceedingly striking. Eveiy object wears the 
 air of novelty — the fertile fields, so exquisitely green — the 
 thatched cottage — the flocks of corbeau, or raven, differing, I 
 think, from our crow in tameness as well as appearance. Occa- 
 sionally, a hare is seen scudding along, or an old and venerable 
 church, heavenward pointing its grey spire. The driver jabbers 
 to his horses perpetually, keeps his immense whip in constant use, 
 making the narrow streets of the cities echo with its loud explo- 
 sions. • 
 
 As we approached Rouen, the most conspicuous objects were ] 
 
 the lofty towers and spires of the Cathedral, one of the most 
 celebrated in the world, by some supposed to be founded by 
 William the Conqueror. The first mention of this city is made 
 by Ptolemy, who lived in the second century. It is doubtful 
 whether its population of a hundred thousand is greater now 
 than then ; its character, however, has changed. Then, it was 
 inhabited by a people whose name has become a by-word — ^the 
 ancient Goths ; now, its numerous churches proclaim it a Chris- 
 tian nation. 
 
 No person who is travelling for pleasure, fails to spend several 
 days in the examination of the curiosities of this old town. The 
 first among these, is the before-mentioned cathedral, commenced 
 in the Xlllth century, and finished in the XVIth. I wish I could J 
 
 portray the beauty and grandeur of this building, four hundi-ed i 
 
 and fifty feet long, one hundred and ten wide, and to the top 
 of the lanthom, from the inside, two hundred feet. 
 
 My first impressions were received by a visit made there in the 
 night. The outside was not visible in the darkness, and the inte- 
 rior, partially lighted by the votive tapers burning at the shrines 
 of saints, lost none of its grandeur and solemnity. There were 
 not more than twenty persons present in this immense building. 
 All was still, save the voice of a priest in one of the distant 
 
10 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 chapels, and the sighs and the sobs of a penitent worshipper near 
 me. A religion, which draws from their comfortable dwellings 
 so many persons through the rainy streets, to spend an hour or 
 more in the cold damps of a gloomy church, cannot but deeply 
 impress one with a feeling of respect, which I fear is too rarely 
 felt by the Protestant for the Catholic faith. 
 
 But it was necessary to have a bright day to see in perfection 
 the grandeur of this edifice. One hundred and thirty windows 
 of stained glass to light it, represent the occurrences in the life 
 of our Saviour, the Apostle sand " holy men made perfect," — one 
 window sometimes containing an entire scene, such as the cruci- 
 fixion of our Saviour between the two thieves, for example, and 
 sometimes many scenes in the life of an individual, much smaller 
 of course. The perfect expression of these pictures exceeded 
 anything I had ever imagined. I witnessed the grand mass, in 
 which the archbishop officiated. 
 
 Among other ornaments, there is a silver lamp of large size, 
 weighing forty marks, before the altar — ^the gift of the city — a 
 thank-offering for the cessation of the plague in 1637. Here, in 
 the Chapel of the Virgin, is the statue which formerly decorated 
 the tomb of the celebrated Cceur de Lion, which had lonof been 
 buried. But on the 30th of July, 1838, searches were made for 
 it, and, guided by historical traditions, it was happily discovered. 
 It is hewn out of a single block of freestone, and is six and a 
 half feet long. It represents King Richard in a recumbent posi- 
 tion, his head supported by a square cushion, wearing a crown 
 encircled with precious stones ; his feet are supported by a 
 crouching lion. On his left hand was a sceptre, of which we 
 only see the remains ; the right has been destroyed. The 
 prince's mantle descends nearly to his ancle in wide folds. It is 
 over a tunic which reaches up to the neck, and is bound round 
 the body by an embroidered belt. The researches, continued on 
 the following day, discovered the heart of Richard, enclosed in a 
 double box of lead with the following inscription : 
 
 ^ic : Jacet : cor : 3^tct)artii : regis : 
 ^ncjlorum : 
 
ROUEN— PUBLIC LIBRARY. Jl 
 
 Near this, are statues of the husband of Diana of Poictiers, 
 and of the cardinals of Amboise. Pillars, sculptures, gal- 
 leries, bas-reliefs, statues, and paintings, are without number. 
 The outside is not deficient in interest. Three lofty towers orna- 
 ment it, the tallest of which, destroyed by fire in 1822, is being 
 replaced, at an expense of $100,000, by one of iron. It will 
 weigh 1,200,000 lbs., and will be four hundred and thirty-six 
 feet high — thirteen feet less than the loftiest pyramid of Egypt. 
 
 Lea\'ing now this magnificent cathedral, of which it is impos- 
 sible to give an adequate description, we will follow the guide — 
 who earns his dollar by conducting us, by the nearest route 
 through the city, to the various places of note, and there giving 
 his stereotyped descriptions — to the churches of St. Ouen, 
 (which contains a window of colored glass unsurpassed in the 
 world,) St. Maclou, St. Patrice, and many others of great beauty. 
 Many of the beautiful churches are no lono;er used for reliofious 
 services — one is a stable, and another a storehouse. Their lofty 
 domes and eleorant carvinofs still remain, thouofh mutilated. In 
 many of the others, the broken windows are replaced by modern 
 manufactures of very inferior merit. 
 
 It is impossible in the space I have allotted for the hasty de- 
 scription of Rouen, even to attempt an enumeration of the objects 
 of interest in this city, celebrated as the birth place of Comeille, 
 Fontenelle, Boieldieu, the composer, and many others ; some of 
 whose statues, as well as that of Joan of Arc, who was here 
 burnt as a witch, ornament its public squares. The town hall 
 contains a collection of portraits, and a pubhc library enriched 
 with manuscripts of distinguished beauty. One of these, the 
 famous illuminated Gradual or Music Book, by Daniel d'Aubonne, 
 richly repays the time, and money (one franc) expended in seeing 
 it. It contains more than two hundred vignettes, and occupied 
 in its construction thirty years of the life of its monkish author. 
 It is not only a monument of devotion and perseverance, but a 
 specimen of writing and pen embellishment unequalled. 
 
 On returning to dinner, tired and cloyed with endless novelties, 
 galleries of pictures and statues, views of the city from various 
 points, carved walls and doors, large bells, <fec., I fell into the 
 
12 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 company of some ladies from Brigtiton, in England, who, after 
 inquiring my country, made me the compliment of speaking 
 English very well, which I politely returned by saying, that they 
 conversed in good American ; at which they appeared not a little 
 puzzled. Happening to observe three quarter dollars, (fortunately 
 they were not eagles,) which I had, they begged them of me, 
 as curiosities, and placed them among some Catholic commu- 
 nion wafers, which they had obtained during the day. When 
 they get home they will doubtless all figure advantageously in 
 their cabinet of choice articles of virtu, collected in their travels 
 
 On the 11th of November I quitted Rouen, taking the cars for 
 Paris. What a magical agent is money ! Two families, for 
 instance, live side by side for years. One of them is worth a 
 million, the other not a thousand. A person, who did not know 
 the world, would innocently imagine, that these two families 
 were neighbors. There cannot be a greater mistake ; it is nothing 
 but an optical illusion, I assure you, sir. The difference of their 
 fortunes has rolled an ocean between them, so that these two 
 families actually pass their lives without being at all aware even 
 of the existence of one another. 
 
 A freak of money, somewhat similar, though by no means so 
 extraordinary, occurred at the cars for Paris. There are two 
 classes of them at least, and probably more. The first class is 
 designed to accommodate eight only, with seats lined with velvet, 
 and fitted up in other respects to correspond. The second class 
 is equally spacious, but lined with linen, admitting ten persons 
 with abundance of room for all. The price paid for seats in the 
 former was but a trifle more than in the others ; yet the effect of 
 that little more upon the passengers was wonderful. Amono- 
 them there was an English gentleman, and two daughters, who 
 had, on the present excursion, for the first time in their lives left 
 their native island. Under the powerful operation of their 
 national proclivity, they assumed the velvet cushions of course. 
 A party of gentlemen and ladies, also English, of equal rank and 
 fashion, happened to be there too on their return from St. Pe- 
 tersburgh. Having traveled over the whole of Europe, they jk 
 had by this time acquired a tolerable knowledge of " matters 
 
PALACE OF LUXEMBOURG. 13 
 
 and things," and accordingly chose the cars of the second class. 
 
 They evidently felt no preference for velvet over linen to sit upon 
 
 for an hour or two. Indeed, I find that the intelligent, though 
 
 wealthy, do by no means invariably manifest a preference for 
 
 what is of the highest price, on that account alone. But the jj 
 
 effect of this procedure of the experienced travellers upon the 
 
 gentleman with the two daughters was very amusing. Doubtless, 
 
 owing to the cause to which I have alluded, the already tumed- 
 
 up noses of the two daughters now turned up to an elevation, 
 
 that I had not before believed to be possible. But how extreme 
 
 was their mortification, when they discovered on our arrival at 
 
 Paris, that the distinction in the cars was of the most transitory 
 
 nature, for we all went together from the depot in the same 
 
 omnibus to the same hotel, and dined at the same table. This 
 
 was the hotel Mirabeau, situated in the Rue de la Paix, which is 
 
 very central. 
 
 As we approached this great capital, nobody was needed to 
 tell us of our progress ; the rapidly augmenting charges were 
 abundantly sufficient to give information. And the bills, to 
 which I am now subjected daily, leave me not in the least doubt 
 whatever of my safe and happy arrival in the modern Athens. 
 It is a great mistake, that everything is cheaper here than in 
 the United States. Clothing, especially cotton, is higher, and 
 woolen also. Linen is cheaper, but not so much so as in Eng- 
 land. 
 
 The Palace of Luxembourg is but a step from my present re- 
 sidence. It is a square edifice, with an ample portico in the cen- 
 tre. A noble pa\dlion surmounts the principal building, and ter- 
 minates in a dome, composed of the Doric and Ionic orders. 
 This palace, like most of the houses, is built in the form of a 
 hollow square. One reason for this mode of construction may 
 be found in their situations ; in streets, dirty, narrow, and noisy ; 
 among groups of poor buildings, where the luxury of a prospect, 
 except from some of the palaces, is rarely or never enjoyed. 
 The best apartments are, consequently, those which face inward 
 on the square enclosed, which is embellished, according to the 
 means and taste of the owners ; with shrubbery, statues of stone. 
 
14 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 among the rich, and plaster among the poorer proprietors. The 
 centre of the Luxembourg palace is a court-yard flagged, and 
 without any other ornament than the architecture of the building 
 itself. On entering the door, one is met by a sentry, who is station- 
 ed at every public building, and, instead of crossing the square, I 
 generally go through along the passage, bordered on both sides by 
 immense orange and lemon trees, ascend two flights of stairs, and 
 enter the picture gallery, which is a receptacle of such works of 
 living artists only, as have been purchased by the government. 
 
 These paintings are, some of them, twenty feet square, beauti- 
 fully executed, with surfaces as smooth as glass. Strangers are 
 admitted every day gratuitously ; and students, male and female, 
 may always be seen copying the whole or parts of a picture ; and 
 sometimes several at work upon the same. 
 
 In this building are also the chambers of the ministers, the 
 councillors of state, &c. Behind it is a large public garden, 
 adorned with statues, and variegated with ponds and other em- 
 bellishments. On Sunday, the great holiday of Paris, the galle- 
 ries of paintings in the Luxembourg and Louvre are opened to 
 all, and numerously frequented. In this manner the good taste 
 of the French is kept alive. Those, who can spare the time, 
 promenade every day ; and on Sundays, everybody. The shops 
 are then closed at an early hour, and all resort to the Boulevards, 
 or some of the many gardens scattered in all quarters of the 
 city. The garden of the Tuilleries, being the most central, is the 
 point of principal resort, certainly of the aristocracy. On those 
 occasions almost every one has a dog, and the fashions of all 
 classes may be seen, from the puppy of two legs to one of four. 
 These dogs (the quadrupedian I mean) are generally conducted 
 by a string or a small chain. A silk dress has one kind of dog, 
 a fustian has another. 
 
 The " Jardin des Plantes " pleases me the most. It is wanting, 
 to be sure, in the numerous statues of the others, which appear 
 indecent to the eye of a stranger, but possesses, in their stead, 
 objects of superior attraction. The other gardens are nearly 
 level ; this is diversified by hill and dale — by winding paths and 
 quiet groves. Here, and indeed throughout the country, the grass 
 
NOTRE DAME. 15 
 
 I 
 
 possesses an intensity of green unknown to you. Trees and shrubs, 
 though now bereft of their foliage, abound in endless variety, as 
 well as animals, birds, and reptiles ; but the latter are found in a 
 different direction. 
 
 The peculiar dress and habits of the people ; the women sweep- 
 ing the streets (the dirtiest of all highways) and carrying enor- 
 mous bundles on their heads ; the cumbrous vehicles, relics of 
 a barbarous age ; and the horses, equally unwieldy, with their 
 useless, ponderous trappings, conspire to render the city avenues 
 a vast museum for the entertainment of the pedestrian. You 
 must not be surprised, therefore, if I am sometimes lost in explor- 
 ing the recesses of these labyrinths. 
 
 Notre Dame, the metropolitan church, the only Gothic struc- 
 ture of note in Paris, is situated in the cite, the oldest part and 
 centre of the capital, and rises to a great height above all 
 the buildino-s which surround it. It is no less than four hundred 
 
 o 
 
 and fourteen feet in length ; its width is one hundred and forty- 
 four, and its towers two hundred and four feet high. It is so old, 
 that the date of its erection is unknown. Its walls are crust- 
 ed over with the smoke of ages, and, of all the edifices in 
 Paris, the cathedral of Notre Dame conveys to us the most 
 lively impressions of the massiveness and durability of ancient 
 architecture. When I visited this venerable church, every 
 nook was occupied by a priest, who was expatiating to a crowd 
 around him. Some of them seemed to res^ard the fair counte- 
 nances of their young hearers with looks far from devotional. 
 This ^jhurch is filled with paintings and carved work, and, though 
 bearing the evidence of injuries, inflicted by the violence of the 
 populace in revolutionary times, still challenges admiration for 
 its grandeur and beauty. 
 
 On Saturday evening, I went to the Italian Opera, and had an 
 opportunity to see a fair specimen, I imagine, of French beauty. 
 But I must decline to express any opinion upon this very delicate 
 subject, (almost as dangerous a topic, as the peculiar institutions 
 of our Southern States,) as well as on the equally tender one of the 
 French cuisine, till a longer residence has ripened my judgment. 
 There is a single branch of the latter, however, so interesting. 
 
16 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 that I cannot wait to have my beard grow, (any longer than it is 
 now at least,) before I give vent to my feelings of delight; name- 
 ly, the cafe au lait. It is indeed delicious ! Listen to the 
 process. Two pots are brought ; from one of which your cup 
 is half filled with cafe, clear, strong and hot ; from the other, 
 they fill it up with boiling milk. A little silver plate contains 
 some lumps of white sugar to sweeten it to your taste, or to 
 make eau de sncre, which the French are very fond of. This 
 is merely cold water, made sweet with sugar. 
 
 But I was speaking of the opera. It was Rossini's II Barbiere 
 di Siviglia ; and, when sung by such persons, as Mad'lle Persiani, 
 and Messrs. Lablache, Mario, Ronconi, Morelli, (fee, with the 
 orchestral accompaniment by about one hundred performers, all 
 of whom are exceedingly skilful, you cannot doubt, that I pre- 
 ferred it, even to the singing of Miss . I was indeed 
 
 deliorhted. 
 
 o 
 
 If my friends should come to see me, I fear I should need a 
 formal introduction ; for the razor has not ** scraped acquaint- 
 ance " with my face, since I left the pleasant shores of New 
 Jersey. Though neither neat, nor agreeable, such is the univer- 
 sal fashion here, and saves trouble. What a luxury to me would 
 be your pretty pcirlor stove with its peach orchard, or lehigh, 
 instead of my wide -mouthed fire place, voraciously devouring 
 the principal part of the caloric, generated by the combustion of 
 two or three sticks of wood, and some Newcastle coal laid 
 thereon. And when it is considered, too, that the windows and 
 doors, and indeed the whole panel-work, afford a pretty easy 
 passage to the air, the contest maintained within, against the 
 external cold, must be acknowledged to be somewhat an unequal 
 one. The want of attention to the economy of heat is the more 
 surprising, since fuel bears so high a price. 
 
 But this is not the only inconvenience. The partition walls 
 between rooms are frequently nothing but laths, which sounds 
 and odors penetrate with ease. Just as I go to bed at night at 
 twelve o'clock, for instance, a neighbor of mine expends his sur- 
 plus enthusiasm upon a pianoforte. I find no fault with the in- 
 strument or player, for both are good, but I can't help thinking. 
 
A MUSICAL NEIGHBOR. 17 
 
 that he who breaks my sleep by making a noise after twelve at 
 night, is guilty of an assault and battery, and ought to be sen- 
 tenced to undergo the penalty, for each offence, of spending a 
 day in the house of some Orpheus, just beginning to learn to 
 play on the trombone. 
 
 r 
 
III. 
 
 Latin Quarter — The Hospital of Hotel-Dieu. 
 
 Away from the palaces, gardens, statues, galleries of paintings, 
 and even from the fashion and respectability of the city, lies the 
 
 Latin quarter. Let us hurry through its generally dirty and 
 narrow streets, and vdsit its numerous hospitals, colleges, schools 
 of medicine and law, dissecting rooms, museums, and botanical 
 gardens. Here also are the dweUings of the poor and destitute, 
 the student, and of that class, known only in Paris — the grisette. 
 All these are found almost exclusively in this quarter, which is 
 separated fromUhe habitations of the wealthy and fashionable by 
 the river Seine. 
 
 The hospitals of Paris deserve the fame, which they enjoy 
 throughout the world, of being the best in existence, on every 
 account. They are the best for the physicians, who there ac- 
 quire their reputation and subsistence ; best for the student, who 
 can there see every species of disease, that afflicts humanity any 
 where, treated with consummate skill by the most scientific pro- 
 fessors of the age ; and, finally, best for the patient, who, com- 
 ino- from the highAvays and by\vays of life, and from the haunts 
 of misery, penury, and vice, finds all here, which money, religion, 
 and skill can bestow, to make him comfortable, though suffering 
 ii©m the anguish of disease. It is impossible too highly to prize 
 or praise such noble institutions. 
 
 wA lono- list of illustrious names commemorates the benefactors 
 of these charities, the origin of which is veiled in impenetrable 
 obscurity, though it can be traced back more than a thousand 
 years. When at home we can calmly take up a book, and read 
 of tlie effeminacy of one king, and the cruelty of another ; we 
 can believe all the vices which are ascribed to a monarch, and 
 
 18 
 
HOSPITAL OF HOTEL-DIEU. 1^ 
 
 shrink with horror from the contemplation of crimes, magnified 
 and colored, if not invented, by some political historian ; and we 
 congratulate ourselves, that sticli enormities cannot be committed 
 in our own favored country. But, when contemplating these 
 buildings, founded by a Mazarin, or Richelieu, and supported and 
 enlarged by a long line of sovereigns, whose characters have been 
 portrayed in the blackest hues, we cannot but suspect them, in 
 many instances, to be injured men, and that their histories, 
 which now exist, are too often the offspring of the malicious 
 imagination of partizan writers. It is difficult to imagine such 
 contradictory conduct, so strange a union of virtue and vice, so 
 incongruous a conjunction of cruelty and humanity. The monu- 
 ments of their benevolence remain, and, therefore, it is but 
 justice, that we should examine the evidence of their atrocities 
 with cautious impartiality. 
 
 The oldest hospit^il in Paris, and, among the first in extent, 
 stands the Hotel-Dieu, or Hospice D'Humanite. There are 3. 
 twenty other institutions, or more, of this nature, in the city, forf 
 the accommodation of patients of every description, on the most 
 soothing and liberal principles. The noble buildings of the Ho- 
 tel-Dieu have no claim to architectural elegance, being chi^y 
 remarkable for solidity. Tke work of several ages, their uncer- 
 tain origin is attributed to St. Landri, Bishop of Paris in the sev^- 
 enth century. This hospital has been successively enlarged by 
 Philip Augustus, Louis XIH, XIV, XV, and XVI. It extends, 
 at present, along both sides of the river Seine, the buildings be- 
 ing united by a tunnel passing under it. Numerous changes are 
 in constant progress, having for their object the ultimate enlarge- 
 ment of the. institution, and the substitution of new buildings in 
 modern style. This, hoAvever, has for the present reduced the 
 number of beds from 1200 to 800. The different halls are-ei^- 
 bellished with the statues and portraits of the distinguished phy- 
 sicians and surgeons, who have here spent a large portion of 
 every day in attending the sick and suffering, among which 
 are those of the celebrated Bichat and Dupuytren. 
 
 Into this establishment the sick and wounded of all descriptions 
 are received, with the exception of children, incurable and insane 
 
 
20 
 
 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 persons, and those who are afflicted with cutaneous and syphihtic 
 diseases. The annual average number of patients is eleven thou- 
 sand, and the average mortality, one in eight hundred and seventy- 
 two. Beside numerous house pupils (internes) the daily service 
 of nine physicians and three surgeons is required. Drs. Chomel 
 and Mao^endie, and surgreons Roux and Blandin are the most 
 eminent. The hospital is open only to students, who have re- 
 ceived a diploma, and desire to see the practice and hear the 
 cliniques of these celebrated men. Strangers with passports are 
 admitted to view every day, and the public twice a week. 
 
 In order to obtain a more particular knowledge of the appear- 
 ance and customs of the place, you must follow me in imagination 
 in my diurnal visit. Rising at seven o'clock in the morning, I 
 hasten to arrive at the Hotel-Dieu, a distance of a mile from my 
 lodgings, by half-past seven o'clock. At the door I am stopped 
 by the guard, whose cocked hat and imiform are the evidences 
 of his authority. On showing a ticket, given by the officers of 
 the institution, or, on the exhibition of my diploma, admittance is 
 instantly granted. The medical gentleman from the United 
 States must not neglect to bring his diploma with him, as he will 
 find it quite necessary, on frequent occasions, to the free and pro- 
 per prosecution of his studies. 
 
 Passing through this building, the court-yard, and under the 
 river, I arrive at the edifice devoted to the females. Each of 
 the doors, forming the entrances into the various wards, has over 
 it a name, being that of some saint. On entering, I find myself 
 in a long hall, extending as far almost, as the e3^e can reach. 
 Upon both sides is a row of beds, numbering nearly a hundred, 
 making a striking appearance to an American. The bedsteads 
 are constructed of iron, which however are concealed from sight 
 by curtains. Tliis iron frame work effectually excludes all vermin. 
 Many hospitals in the United States, supplied with wooden bed- 
 steads, and admitting patients from similar classes of society, are 
 much annoyed by them. The curtains answer the double pur- 
 pose of temporary seclusion and a screen from the light. The 
 objections, which have been 09*6 red by many physicians in the 
 United States in regard to the detrimental influence of curtained beds 
 
HOSPITAL OF HOTEL-DIEU. 21 
 
 upon the sick, by confining the air, rendered impure by the breath- 
 ing of the patients, and the exhalations from the body and open 
 wounds, do not apply to these. The top is left uncovered, which 
 consequently admits a free passage of the atmosphere. At the 
 foot of this hall is perceived, either a painting, a plaster, or per- 
 haps a carved oak representation of the Virgin Mary, or of the 
 patron saint, to whom it is dedicated. This is surrounded by 
 flowers real and artificial, candles, and other emblems of catholic 
 worship. 
 
 The description of the practice in this hospital will be given in 
 my next letter. 
 
IV. 
 
 Catholic Religion — French Hospitals — Hotel-Dieu — Nuns — Hospi- 
 tal Practice — Mons. Blandin — Dr. Mott, of New-York. 
 
 Coming from a country where harsh judgments are hazarded 
 on the tendency of the Cathohc religion, and the hypocrisy of its 
 professors, it gives one the pleasure of a surprise to visit a 
 hospital in France, and witness the hold which it has upon the 
 public mind. However strongly one may be convinced of the 
 erroneousness of many of their doctrines, he cannot, after such a 
 sight, but be less egotistical and self-sufficient ; less disposed to 
 condemn others, and to exalt his own judgment, as the only cer- 
 tain standard of right and wrong. I pronounce not on their ar- 
 ticles of faith, of which they surely have abundance, nor on the 
 merits of their works, which few will affirm to be inferior to those 
 of others in the daily walks of life. But the heart has its pre- 
 rogatives, which will not be slighted, and does not wait before it 
 feels, to inquire whether it is right or not. 
 
 In this hospital, as in almost every other in France, may be 
 witnessed the unremitting care of the religieuses. That which I 
 visited at Havre, is under the general direction of the nuns, the 
 Lady Superior herself giving £400 sterling a year for its support 
 in addition to her undivided attention. There I saw seven hun- 
 dred beds, and in one of them a sailor, who had fallen from the 
 top of a New- York and Havre packet on her passage out. He 
 struck upon the sky-light, and when taken up, his leg was found 
 to be completely separated from his thigh, and was left on deck, 
 while he was carried below. Sixty religieuses of the order of St. 
 Ausfustine devoted their whole time and attention to the suffer- 
 ing in the Hotel-Dieu alone. Undistracted by the amusements 
 of the world, they find " their meat and their drink" in bathing 
 
 22 
 
HOSPITAL OF HOTEL-DIEU— MONS. BLANDIN. 23 
 
 the burning brow, and moistening the parched lip ; in pointing 
 the convalescent to a nobler sphere of duty, in a different path 
 from that in which they have been travelling ; in whispering to the 
 dying of Christ's love, and directing their wandering thoughts " to 
 the bright realms of peace and happiness in another and a better 
 world." When I see these women thus engaged, I forget, that 
 they are attendants and nurses, and regard them with a senti- 
 ment of veneration. They appear to me to be fulfiling a holy miss- 
 ion upon earth. I see no ostentation in their peculiar dress, their 
 large and uncomely cap or hood, and the bandages by which the 
 principal part of their faces is concealed. To me they seem to 
 say, " Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy-laden, 
 and I will give you rest ; buy of me wine and oil, without money 
 and "vvithout price." Revenons a nos moutons, 
 
 I said, that I saw these things, but at this early hour (half- 
 past seven a. m.) the streets themselves are hardly \dsible, much 
 less the interior of a house. By accident I am in the surgical 
 ward of Mons. Blandin. Directing my steps to two or three 
 flickering candles, I traverse the long hall. Stranger, tread with 
 care, lest this waxed oaken floor, which reflects, like a mirror, 
 the little light in the distance, should convert you, on a sudden, 
 from the character of a student into that of a patient of the learn- 
 ed surgeon. Around the bed stand fifty, or perhaps a hundred, 
 students, some with note books, listening to the words of the sur- 
 geon, and completely hiding him and his *' suite" from view. 
 Anticipating his progress, and taking a position by the side of 
 the next patient, I may perhaps succeed in seeing him. 
 
 The idea I had formed of this excellent man, is not disappoint- 
 ed by his personal appearance. He is some fifty years of age, 
 perhaps five feet ten inches in height, erect and well made. His 
 fine open countenance, unhidden by beard, high forehead and 
 sparkling eye, bespeak the man of intellect and decision, quick- 
 ness of thought, and promptness of execution ; characteristics 
 most necessary to a surgeon, who should possess them, combined 
 with perfect coolness under all circumstances, that he may be 
 able to seize upon the proper moment to render useful assistance 
 to the suflferer under his hands. These qualities are evident, as 
 
24 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 he goes from bed to bed, examining quickly, but carefully and 
 closely, the condition of the patients. The heart of the surgeon 
 is not always callous, and the questions which he puts, though 
 often hasty and loud, are nevertheless always mild and softly 
 spoken. He wears a white linen apron fastened round his waist, 
 attached in part to a button on his coat, which protects his 
 clothes from the lint of the beds, and the numerous soiling 
 articles around a patient. In a button-hole of his coat is seen 
 the narrow red ribbon, worn by all the members of the Medical 
 Society. After him come the students attached to the hospital, 
 some five or six in number, called internes or extemes, as they 
 reside in, or out of the building. Three of them carry books, 
 pens and ink. One records the state of the patient, as described 
 by the surgeon ; another, the medical prescriptions ; and the 
 third, the diet. Mons. Blandin himself carries another book, 
 containing a summary of the case and treatment. Tlie other 
 three take off the bandages, and assist in such slight operations, 
 as are performed at the bedside. These are surrounded by the 
 crowd of following students. As in such an assembly, it would 
 be impossible to carry the hat in the hand, the custom of wear- 
 ing it in the wards of the sick, which strikes an American stran- 
 ger so unpleasantly, is explained. 
 
 There is none of that false modesty here, which is so prevalent 
 at home. Perhaps some sneering reader may suggest, that there 
 is less of the real. However that may be, there is certainly no 
 affectation of it. Men and women lose their sex, when sick, and 
 are viewed in the character of patients merely. To understand 
 their cases aright, it is sometimes, and in surgical cases always, 
 necessary to see. All diseased parts of the body are unhesita- 
 tingly displayed without a thought of indelicacy. This is as it 
 should be. Mrs. Farrar, in her work on the education of young 
 ladies, amid many pruderies, has good sense on this point. 
 Over-nicety in these cases is almost entirely American. In the 
 hospital of a house of correction, where I attended some time, I 
 have known the most abandoned women object, as strenuously 
 as a young girl, to the necessary examination of her person. 
 The prude perhaps might call this behavior a remnant of her 
 
DR. MOTT, OF NEW YORK. 25 
 
 original condition, or a germ of better feelings. She is welcome 
 to the rationale. 
 
 Behind the students follow waiters, with bandages, lint, water, 
 and the entire surgical apparatus. At this early hour, it is im- 
 possible to see without artificial light. Each of the scribes there- 
 fore carries a candle attached to his book, and the surgeon him- 
 self another of wax, about the size of a pipe stem, which is curled 
 upon itself in an oblong form. This is placed under the patient's 
 nose, occasionally singeing it, in order to see his tongue, and 
 sometimes a little hot wax falls upon the patient's person. 
 
 The visit of the day is finished. The books of diet and medi- 
 cines, which have been prescribed, being signed by the physician, 
 thus authorizing their dispensation, he follows the students to the 
 lecture room, and delivers a brief, but comprehensive, description 
 of some disease, illustrating it by reference to patients in the 
 house, Not ha^dng removed his apron, he is ready to perform 
 any operation, which may be required. The hand of Mons. 
 Blandin is quick and steady, and his operations are done with dex- 
 terity and neatness. The first day on which I attended his clin- 
 ique, there was a case of dislocation of the humerus. He de- 
 scribed the many methods employed for its reduction, especially 
 for this form, where the head of the bone was in the axilla. 
 Amonof therh he mentioned the excellent method of Dr. Mott, of 
 New York, of which he spoke in high terms, and finished by 
 sajdng, that he would attempt the reduction on this occasion by 
 that method ; which he accordingly did with perfect success. It 
 gratified me exceedingly to hear him speak of my countryman in 
 language so flattering. I had been in Paris but a short time, and 
 then scarcely knew a soul in the great city. I was lonely. But 
 this public recognition of the merits of an American, though I 
 had never enjoyed the pleasure of seeing him, operated on my 
 spirits like a charm. It electrified me with delight. The glory 
 of our great men may be slighted, or even withered, by detrac- 
 tion, at home, but it is ever very dear to the heart of a country- 
 man in a strange land. It elevates him in the eyes of foreigners, 
 and what is better, it raises him in his own. 
 
 A great trouble in attending these cliniques, and, in truth, all 
 2* 
 
26 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 the medical lectures in the city, is caused by the little attention 
 paid to the comfort of hearers. The seats are hard and without 
 backs, and there is but scanty room for the feet. This confined 
 position it is very uncomfortable to maintain for such a length of 
 time as the lectures frequently last. Here, too, as in the wards, 
 the students listen with their hats on their heads, if more conve- 
 nient. 
 
T. 
 
 Bal Masque. 
 
 I HAVE just returned from the first masked ball of the season, 
 and, as the peculiar manners of a people are apt to be conspic- 
 uous in their amusements, I shall attempt to give you a descrip- 
 tion of it. 
 
 These balls are very frequent during the Carnival, and are held 
 at various places. The one which I attended, was at the French 
 Opera House, and, as it was the first, is supposed to have been 
 the best, of the series. Its claims to superiority are founded on 
 the capacity of the building, allowing the entrance of more per- 
 sons at onetime, than any other place of amusement ; the num- 
 ber and surpassing excellence of the musicians ; the brilliancy of 
 its illumination, and the superiority of the maskers, whose means 
 enable them to appear in richer and more fantastic dresses, than 
 at the other balls, and perhaps selected with more taste. The 
 cost of a ticket, when obtained single at the bureau, is ten francs, 
 (about two dollars,) but they can be bought for half the sum of 
 persons around the door, who purchase them by the hundred, 
 and sell them very low. 
 
 The crowded streets, for a circuit of half a mile around the 
 building, are guarded by numerous soldiers, both mounted and 
 foot, who regulate the approach and withdrawal of caniages, 
 which are constantly going and coming. Eleven o'clock, p. m. is 
 the time for commencing, generally on Saturday or Sunday eve- 
 ning, when the world is most at leisure to attend to amusements. 
 Arrived there, all men are admitted, who have tickets and are 
 decently dressed, either plainly or fancifully ; and women in 
 any tidy garments, be they petticoats or breeches, if masked. 
 Masks are confined to women, who are compelled to wear them 
 
 27 
 
28 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 The first resort of a stranger is to the upper boxes, whence he 
 can obtain a " coup-d'oeil " of all that is beneath him. On en- 
 tering, the intense brilliancy dazzles the unaccustomed eye. A 
 thousand gas-burners emit as many jets of flame, reflected back 
 from numerous mirrors and cut pendants of glass chandeliers, 
 which, agitated by the trembling building, shaken by innumera- 
 ble dancers, twinkle like the stars of the firmament. Looking, 
 however, below and beyond the blaze, we have a view of the 
 pit, covered with a spring-floor, and enlarged by the addition of 
 the stajre to more than double its usual dimensions. It is occu- 
 pied with two or three thousand dancers, decked in habiliments of 
 all kinds and colors, the fashion of every nation and age, and 
 representing animals of various climes. Presently you behold 
 this immense assembly dancing a quadrille with the most uncouth 
 and extravagant gestures ; leaping, walking on their hands and 
 feet, like quadrupeds, or on their knees. Sometimes, from being 
 intentionally tripped by one another, and pushed by the crowd, 
 a dozen, perhaps, are lying on the floor, kicking, screaming and 
 rolling, men and women together. The music changes, and a 
 gallopade finishes the figure, which grows every moment quicker 
 and quicker, till it becomes, a race around the halls, in which 
 each one disregards both time and tune in the eager attempt to 
 outstrip the rest. This is varied by the polka, a waltz, and the 
 mazourka. 
 
 Beyond the dancers, in the back part of the stage, is placed 
 the orchestra, to me the most attractive part of all that is pre- 
 sented before us. Two hundred of the finest musicians, which 
 this city of music can produce, are here collected. In the midst 
 is seen Musard, the conductor, whose \'igorous exertions in flour- 
 ishing his baton and guiding the players rival the polkars before 
 him. 
 
 It is altogether impossible to remain longer in the box gazing. 
 If the harp of one man, like Orpheus, could overcome the natural 
 reluctance of oak and granite, and rouse them to a country dance, 
 surely the music of two hundred professors, every one doubtless 
 very much his superior, must animate even the wooden legs of the 
 gray-haired pensioners themselves. Mine, at any rate, which do 
 
BAL MASQUE. 29 
 
 not pretend to be either marble or timber, soon gave way to the 
 dehcious epidemic, and I fomid myself mingling with the enthu- 
 siastic multitude. Perhaps we may find among the masks', some 
 which conceal intellect and beauty. With great difficulty at length 
 we get upon "the floor." Four thousand persons are here,- and 
 every avenue is clogged. Your path is stopped by many, who 
 seize you by the arm, and forcibly restrain your progress, at the 
 same time whispering some impertinent compliment or merry 
 nonsense. Perfect freedom of speech and action reigns. Nothing 
 is too gross to be said, and very little that is not permitted to be 
 done. Have you ever escaped from the turmoil of the city, and, 
 wandering in the green woods, far from the dwelhngs of men, 
 where none could hear your voice, have you ever then thrown 
 yourself upon the verdant sward, rolled about in perfect wanton- 
 ness, shouted and sang and screamed, till the hills reverberated the 
 sound, and the birds flew about astonished at the sudden uproar ? 
 If you have, you may obtain a faint conception of the abandon 
 of this unparalleled assembly. 
 
 The mask worn by the ladies is made of black silk, satin, or 
 velvet: It is so small, that it serves only to cover the eyes, nose 
 and part of the cheeks, leaving the mouth and chin exposed, or 
 but partially concealed by a piece of black lace attached to it. — 
 This exposure is sufficient to enable one to distinguish the com- 
 parative age, and to judge pretty correctly of the charms, of the 
 wearer. The domino is merely a mantle of silk with edgings of 
 lace, and serves to hide the form of the person. This is not, as 
 I have remarked, the only female dress, but it is the one worn 
 by such as really desire to conceal their face and figures. The 
 prettier the person, the more of it is generally to be seen. 
 
 Among the masks were many, certainly a third, who wore the 
 garments of men, such as those of sailors, Scotch, Swiss, and the 
 dress of pages at court. With this metamorphosis, their charac- 
 ters were also changed, and they were observed to be the rough- 
 est and most foolish and even indecent in their behavior. Those, 
 who object to the close contact of the sexes in the " mazes of the 
 giddy waltz," might not think the evil any greater in this, than in 
 other dances, were they to observe the still closer affinity in the 
 
30 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 quadrilles. Such warm embraces are never seen in America, not 
 even at the parting or re-union of relations or friends. 
 
 It is part of the etiquette of the evening, whether in the dance, 
 or out, to embrace all. One, in particular, disguised in the skin 
 of a white bear, went round with open mouth, and, as if pai-tak- 
 ing the characteristics of the beast he personated, hugged almost 
 as forcibly as the brute himself, all the women, whose appearance 
 pleased his animal taste. Here might be seen a mask, climbing 
 upon the shoulders of a cavaher, and rudely assisted to ascend 
 by the pushes of the passers by. Others were observed sitting 
 in each other's laps, fondling and kissing, — Bare necks indeed 
 were considered public property, and received salutes with as Ht- 
 tle ceremony, as if they had been left so for the purpose. 
 
 With a desire to ascertain, merely as a point of philosophy of 
 course, the real character if possible, of those who were among 
 the principal attractions, I went from one to another, talking, 
 dancing and waltzing. The first object of my examination proved 
 to be a grisette, mourning for the loss of a bracelet ; her pleasure 
 for the evening was destroyed. She had waltzed with one, whom 
 she suspected to be the purlouier. She unhesitatingly proffered 
 an assignation with me for the morrow. One I noticed sitting 
 near me, whose flaxen ringlets revealed her to be not only from 
 another coimtry, but of a different taste from those around. She 
 was dressed in one of the most extravagant costumes of the eve- 
 ning, and I had previously seen her dancing vrith a freedom of 
 manner quite remarkable. Just now she was refusing in pure 
 Castilian the urgent entreaties of a young Spaniard to join in the 
 next quadrille. Not doubting a similar reception myself, still, 
 merely for amusement, I asked the favor of her company in the 
 waltz, which had just commenced. She accepted to my astonish- 
 ment, and in French so good that I imagined her a Parisian. To 
 a neighbor she afterwards spoke Itahan, and with me she con- 
 versed in excellent English. Expressing my astonishment at her 
 fluency in so many tongues, she said she was equally so in Ger- 
 man. " But which is your vernacular, I would beg to know ?" 
 Tlie question met with no satisfactory response. " I have lived 
 in many of the United States," she replied, *' in New York, New 
 
BAL MASQUE. 31 
 
 Hampshire and others. " What towns in New Hampshire, my 
 wonderful friend ?" Among others, she mentioned Peterborough. 
 " The birth-place of Judge Smith," I remarked. ** Yes," she 
 responded, *' but the silver locks of this good old man are hidden 
 in the tomb." — " Did you know the M. family ?" — " Yes," she 
 said immediately, " there are five or six, tall, long-legged sons, 
 I remember John and Nat, Sam and Jim, and — there are several 
 more for aught I know." Was n't she a queer acquaintance for a 
 Paris masked ball ? I must not forget to say that she polkaed 
 a ravir. The next was pretty enough to be better. Without urg- 
 ing she gave me her address. In the course of the evening she 
 sought for me, with the desire that I should give her some money 
 to pay for her hack, as she was going to retire immediately. Two 
 hours after, I saw her dancing with great animation. A fourth 
 lady, whose superior education was very evident, after much 
 urging for her address, wrote thus : "I am an angel ; my home 
 is in Paradise." Nothing farther could I learn. Thus continued 
 this remarkable ball, without the least symptom of flagging, till 
 half-past six in the morning, when the last dance was finished, 
 and I went home, where I arrived in season for my morning visit 
 to the Hospital. 
 
 From this sketch of my experience, some conception may be 
 formed perhaps of the appearance and customs, the character of 
 the persons who attend, their occupation while there, and finally 
 the probable tendency, of the Bal Masque. I shall leave yqu to 
 draw your own conclusion. 
 
VI. 
 
 Condition of Women — Hair Market at Caen — Bourgeois Party- 
 Funerals OF THE Rich and the Poor. 
 
 I HAD no sooner set my foot upon the soil of France, than the 
 servitude of the women arrested my attention ; and this, too, in 
 Havre, the birth-place of Madame de la Fayette. In this land of 
 politesse and chivalry, one cannot but notice with wonder the 
 numerous e\'idences of barbarism in the common walks of life. 
 Wonien are employed to sweep the streets, transport the heaviest 
 burdens, and in numerous other similar occupations. Often have 
 I seen them, when age and disease had ciippled their powers, 
 carrying two pails of water, whose weight would terrify an Amer- 
 ican damsel of twenty years, upon shoulders already bowed down 
 by the pressure of time, rudely jostled by the crowd, with scanty 
 clothing, and no covering for the head, but a thin cap, which did 
 not restrain their silver locks from playing around their wrinkled 
 foreheads. Would to God, this were a single instance ! 'T is 
 but a poor picture drawn from the scenes of every-day life. 
 
 At Caen, but a short distance from Rouen, there is a market, 
 whither young girls resort, and stand hour after hour with their 
 flowing hair, rich and glossy, deriving additional lustre from the 
 contrast with their naked shoulders. This is the resort of the 
 merchant barbers, some of whom come even from England. 
 The merchants pass along among them, examine the color, tex- 
 ture, evenness, and other qualities of the beautiful fleece, haggle 
 for a sous, and finally buy. The hair then, after being cut as 
 closely as possible to the head, is weighed and paid for, and the 
 girl goes home to prepare for another shearing, or perhaps to 
 puifchase a husband with her mone}^ An American girl prefers 
 to let her hair turn to silver on her own head, or if it must bo 
 cut off^, to enjoy the crop herself. 
 
 32 
 
BOURGEOIS PARTY. 33 
 
 Higher up in the social scale is the small shop-keeper with 
 Madame, who contributes to the income by teaching music and 
 Italian, and constructinof flowers with worsted. Of the first and 
 last she knows but little ; her talents, as a polyglot, I am unable 
 to appreciate. She has her party, as well as those above her, 
 consisting perhaps of thirty persons. Among them was a gentle- 
 man, who resided with Joseph Bonaparte at Bordentown for 
 two years. Her apartments are on the second floor, in reality 
 the third, for a vintner occupies the ground floor, as a shop. 
 You go to the door, and knock with a massive ring eight inches 
 in circumference, and so thick, that both hands are well-nigh re- 
 quired to lift it. It makes a tremendous noise. But — don't be 
 alarmed, because the door gives away. It is the concierge, whb, 
 in his room at a distance of some forty feet, has pulled the 
 cord attached to the spring latch. You shut the door on enter- 
 ing, and grope your way along, stumbling and stubbing against 
 the pavement, towards the glimmer of the stearine candle in the 
 
 dim distance. The concierge informs you, that Madame D s 
 
 rooms are on the second floor, whither you pursue your way in the 
 dark, as before. You are admitted by the hostess herself into a 
 little entry four feet square, deposit your chapeau, and enter the 
 drawinof-room. This is a " maid of all work." It answers for 
 eating room, (I know not but kitchen too,) parlor and bed-cham- 
 ber. In a niche is the bed with festooned curtains. The floor 
 is of tiles, waxed. The walls are decorated with daguerreotype 
 portraits of the family, some wood cuts of guinea pigs, and a hor- 
 rid daub in oil, called a portrait. The mantle and a case of 
 drawers contain, under a glass shade, specimens of Madame's tal- 
 ents in making flowers, and a metal clock. In a corner stands 
 a miserable piano, shockingly out of tune. 
 
 Into this room, thus encumbered with furniture, you are ush- 
 ered, and make your obeisance, probably to the portrait in oil, 
 the only face that looks at you — no one seems to notice your ar- ^ 
 rival. The master is engaged in talking, and " it does not pay_" 
 to leave his conversation for a mere form. For a full half min- 
 ute, the longest period that a Frenchman is still at one time, you ^ 
 
M 
 
 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 are permitted to rest. That time is employed in taking a coup- 
 d'oeil of the company. It is a collection of ugly women of forty 
 years, and a few girls, who are admitted into society, because their 
 personal attractions expose them to no danger of being led astray. 
 Aromid is a number of mustaches and beards, but no faces are 
 at all perceptible. The half minute is over. You have no time 
 to scrutinize, what indeed would not pay for the labor, for the 
 hostess advances, seizes you by the hand, and hurries you to the 
 dance. Ten couples commence a quadrille in this small room. At 
 the piano are seated the two children of Madame, from six to ten 
 years of age, who attempt a duet. When one of them hurries 
 the time, after having got suflBciently ahead, she very obligingly 
 waits for the other to " catch up," who, having succeeded, thinks 
 it time to take the lead herself. Thus they proceed in regular 
 alternations. All this time the dancers are performing wonders 
 with their feet, somewhat at the expense of skin and bone, it is 
 true, in so limited a sphere of action. There being two tunes, as 
 we have said, the company have a choice, some preferring one, 
 some the other. A considerable irregularity naturally ensues, 
 till doubts begin to arise, as to what figure they are attempting to 
 execute, when the quadrille becomes a riddle. Suddenly the noise 
 of the piano changes. All ready for a gallopade — away we go, 
 treading on each other's heels, and turning round, overturn some 
 one, who chances to be next. Ah ! there is a little more room 
 now. The fat lady has " given in," and sits pufiing like a loco- 
 motive. We gallop along, the space gradually becomes larger, 
 for that young lady, who apparently has no dress on under that 
 thin muslin cape, has lost a shoe in the race. Hip ! away we go, 
 my partner and I, ** neck and neck," the gallop becomes a "trot" 
 or " canter." My partner is certainly a Pegasus, and I am on 
 the " rack." Ah ! the orchestra has stopped performance. The 
 waltz is now in the ascendant, and away we whirl again with an- 
 other old lady, who, I perpetually fear, will shake off her curls. 
 Were our habiliments different, we might be taken for the an- 
 cient Athletse contending for the prize of wrestling. No wonder 
 Byron and others have written so touchingly of the waltz. It is 
 
FUNERALS OF RICH AND POOR. 35 
 
 shocking. Ladies who waltz, should really abjure the bulbous 
 esculents, and breathe of roses. " No, no — I do not wish to 
 dance any more ; I am not a polka man, but prefer to look over 
 these card players." The interest is great, where two sous are 
 at stake. 
 
 And so the scene continues from eight o'clock in the evening, 
 to two and a half in the morning, interrupted only by the en- 
 trance of a liquid, called grog — Washingtonians need not be 
 alarmed — it tastes of nothing but sugar and water, though, on a 
 close examination, by the olfactories, the presence of a slight 
 homoeopathic dose of some kind of spirit is detected. 
 
 On inquiry, it is discovered, that at this reunion, there is 
 a Portuguese, a German, a Scotchman, and an American. Our 
 hostess is fond of lions, and she has got together a collection of 
 birds, who warble different tongues ; the consequence is, that, 
 confined in so small a cage, all are uneasy and ennuye. I in- 
 quired of several the names of their neighbors — none knew. In- 
 troductions are not thought of. 
 
 You, who live in a city, which has once had its ball-room in a 
 grave-yard, will not be surprised, if you find in this letter, but a 
 single step between my description of a dance and that of a fu- 
 neral. Such is actual life. The house of feasting is often the 
 very next door to the house of mourning. One cannot have had 
 his eyes open in travelling along through the world, who has 
 failed to observe that painful and startling intermingling of comic 
 and tragical events, so vividly depicted by the master-hand of 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 To-day 1 chanced to be passing the Church of St. Sulpice, 
 just as a funeral procession was leaving its portals. A few days 
 ago I witnessed a similar scene. There is nothing remarkable in 
 either of these events, nothing can be more common than they 
 were. It is this very commonness, which makes them penetrate 
 the thoughtful soul so deeply, and renders them worthy of no- 
 tice. The pageant, which is now passing before me, is the fune- 
 ral of a rich man. A long line of black carriages, drawn by 
 black horses, and driven by coachmen in black, followed a hearse 
 
36 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 in the sarnie sombre color, with numerous curtains, adorned with 
 silver lace and tassels, ostrich plumes, and other bravery. The 
 noble horses, fretting under the bit, tossed their heads, richly 
 decked with feathers, in the air. The sexton, in his long official 
 robe, with cocked hat in hand, opened the coach doors for those 
 who were to follow the honorable dead to the cemetery of Mount 
 Parnassus ; and with numerous bows, apparently regardless of 
 crumpling his snowy neckcloth, ushered them in. The portals 
 of the church were concealed by an ample curtain, similarly em- 
 belhshed ; and within, immediately before the altar, was erected 
 a temporary mausoleum of black hangings to the memory of the 
 deceased. 
 
 The poor man's way to the grave contrasts very sadly with all 
 this pompous marshalling of the opulent to his marble tomb. 
 Nothing, in fact, can differ more, unless it be their several jour- 
 neys through the perpetual hard toil, and boundless gratifications 
 of their respective lives. It is not enough, it seems, to maintain 
 these distinctions while they live ; but they must be thrust as far 
 as possible into the silent mansions of the departed ; and, if it 
 were practicable, the humble dead would be left literally "to 
 bury their dead." We shall see in the other funeral occasion, 
 to which I alluded, how nearly, in some places, they have ap- 
 proached the point of requhing the deceased poor to walk to 
 the grave themselves. 
 
 It was the obsequies of a — nobody — evidently not " a feather 
 in the cap" of any undertaker. A priest, in his long black 
 robe and cocked hat, hurries along, as fast as possible, with 
 his prayer-book under his arm. He threads the crowded street, 
 dexterously dodges the numerous obstructions in the way, occa- 
 sionally slipping on the muddy pavement, in his haste to finish the 
 small job, which he has undertaken, of burying a poor man. 
 After him, but scarcely able to keep equal pace with the holy man, 
 encumbered as he was with his burden, came a person with a 
 rough unpainted box upon his shoulder, containing the remains 
 of mortality. This sweating porter was in his shirt- sleeves, 
 which, unfortimately for the credit of the funeral procession, were 
 
FUNERALS OF RICH AND POOR. 37 
 
 not clean. No matter. Nobody but myself observed it. Final- 
 ly, came the mourners. I should speak more correctly in the 
 singular, for there was but one, who strode along, his sabots 
 keeping time with the clinking of the living hearse before. 
 
 " Death cuts down all, 
 Both great and small." 
 
 as the Primer beautifully saith. 
 3 
 
VII. 
 
 -MusARD — Mardi-Gras — Pere Goriot — Louis Philippe-^Bastringues 
 — Traiteurs — Feasts — Fasts — Clergy — Cokfession — Order of the 
 "Holy Cross." 
 
 The Carnival, with all its pleasures, extravagances and absurdi- 
 ties, is at length finished. The masked balls are suspended. The 
 numerous crowds of joyous beings no longer throng the theatres 
 and other dancing saloons. The reign of '*Musard the Great,'* 
 the distinguished, composer of quadrilles and dances, is at an end. 
 At one of the last balls at the Grand Opera, where he officiates 
 as conductor of the two hundred musicians collected there, a 
 number of the giddy dancers, making their way through their 
 midst, penetrated to his throne, and taking him thence, bore him 
 in triumph around the theatre, which rang with the voices of 
 some six thousand persons, shouting vive Musard, le Roi de la 
 Danse. The greatest excitement prevailed for some length of 
 time in spite of the efforts of the soldiers and municipal guards, 
 always present in all public assemblies, io prevent disturbance. 
 
 Mardi-Gras, or the fourth of February, being the last day 
 of the Carnival, is the great holiday of the season. Into this is 
 crowded more of folly and mirth, than any other day in the year. 
 The whole community are permitted on this occasion to appear 
 masked in the- street, and under cover of this license to commit 
 a thousand extravagances, which amu'^e this easily excited peo- 
 ple. On the Boulevards — :the fashionable promenade — crowds of 
 people throng the trottoirs to witness the maskers, who, dressed 
 in every color iind fashion, rode through the streets in open 
 vehicles. One I saw striding a poor old horse, whose every bone 
 was distinctly visible through his shaved skin. The window of a 
 victualer in the vicinity, attracted a large crowd. In it was dis- 
 played an immense turkey, apparently of some thirty pounds 
 
 38 
 
MARDI-GRAS.— PERE GORIOT. 39 
 
 weight, stuffed with truffles. On it was affixed a label, stating 
 that it was to be sent to the Buke of Wellington at a cost of one 
 hundred dollars. 
 
 Mardi-Gras is the gala-day of the butchers ; and the principal 
 object of attraction is the procession, which is formed by them. 
 It is but the remnant, however, of a great ceremony of olden 
 times. The progress of modern refinement has gradually been 
 detracting from'^e interest formerly attached to it, and soon, hke 
 others of these customs, it will fall into disuse, and finally be en- 
 tirely neglected. From the fact of an ox, the largest and fattest 
 that can be found, being led around the city in triumphal proces-, 
 sion, and afterwards slaughtered, P have thought, that it might be 
 the remnant of some religious solemnity, and that the ox was 
 sacrificed to Jupiter, or some of the other heathen divinities. As 
 it is, I Tvill attempt a slight description. In order to make the 
 entire circuit of the city, to ^isit the numerous public slaughter-, 
 houses, two days are employed ; Mardi-Gras or Shrove Tuesday, 
 and the Sunday preceding. They visit the King, the Ministers 
 of State, and other functionaries. I was present at the Palacd of 
 the Tuilleries on the visitation to Louis Philippe. First, sedately 
 marched a detachment of the Municipal Guards, then a band of 
 musicians, each in a different dress of the most fantastic charac- 
 ter, playing the popular airs of the day. These were followed 
 by a detachment of young butchers on horseback, whose garbs 
 represented the fashions of the courtiers of by-gone days. Sur- 
 rounded by six or eight athletic men, bearing axes and other im- ^ 
 plements of this kind with wreaths upon their heads, who might 
 be called the pall-bearers, came the colossal ox — the renowned 
 P^re Goriot, as he is styled — having a velvet mantle trimmed 
 with gold lace upon his back, and his silvered horns glistening in 
 the sunbeams. For a wonder the sun shone brightly for the 
 first time during many weeks. In fear that he might be unable , 
 to walk two days in this procession, his place was filled on Sun- 
 day by one of the five others, who were competitors for the honors 
 of Mardi-Gras. After him came a triumphal car, ^drawn by four 
 horses in gorgeous trappings, in which were eight or ten of the 
 butchers, apparently representing the mythological divinities. In 
 
40 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 their midst was a young child of some five years of age, who m 
 called " V Amour.'* He was clothed in a white muslin frock, with 
 short sleeves. Around his head was a wreath of roses^ I pitied 
 this child, for the day was very cold. On the Sunday previous- 
 his little arms were purple, and he trembled involuntarily. En- 
 veloped in a cloak and in my thick clothing, I was uncomfortable 
 on this, one of the coldest days of the season. In the court yard 
 of the palace the procession halted. The King| Queen, and the 
 young Count erf Paris, the heir to the throne, came out upon the 
 balcony, and saluted the dense crowd, which filled the place. It 
 grieved me to notice the feeble shouts of the people at the ap- 
 pearance of the King. I longed to hear those old walls ring, 
 and his ears to be regaled with such huzzas as greet Daniel Web- 
 ster, or any of our great men, when coming before the people. I 
 was sorry to see another proof of the little appreciation the peo- 
 pie have for a monarch, the wisest in the world, who consults 
 with great tact the best interests of France, 
 
 At a sign from the King, the cortege dismounted, and, while 
 some danced the Polka to the fine music of the band, others at 
 his particular invitation, entered the palace, bearing with them 
 '* Love," who probably was not sorry to have an opportunity to 
 warm his chilled members. During this interview, an incident 
 worthy of notice occurred. While the attention of the royal 
 family was otherwise directed, one of the butchers, in the garb 
 of a courtier of the time of Louis XIV, made his appearance in 
 the balcony, which a short time previous had been occupied by 
 the King. He was received by the crowd with great cheering. 
 A liveried menial, aiithoritatively striking him upon the back, 
 soon brought him to his proper place. The interview finished, 
 they returned to their proper stations, the cortege again com- 
 menced its march, the King retired, and shortly after the court- 
 yard was empty. The poor ox too soon finished his journey, and 
 duly killed and dressed, was eaten, a portion by the royal family 
 of France, another portion forwarded to London, formed a part 
 of the Lent dinner of Queen Victoria and her spouse — Marshal 
 Soult and the other ministers shared the remainder — and thus 
 ended the days of the Pere Goriot of 1845. 
 
BASTRINGUES.— TRAITEURS. 41 
 
 The evening of this day was spent by many of the inhabitants 
 of Paris, in attending the masked balls, of which there were some 
 twenty. The balls at the barriers were also fully attended. Tliese 
 are at the places called Bastringues. Outside of the barriers are 
 the houses and gardens of traiteurs, a kind of \dctualler. They 
 are called guinguettes ; and here the lower classes resort in great 
 numbers to drink and to eat ; for the wine and provisions not hav- 
 ing paid the tax, which is le\ied by the government on every 
 article brought within the city walls, can be afforded of a better 
 quahty for the same money. For instance, a bottle of Burgundy 
 wine pays eight cents duty, and is worth twenty cents in the city. 
 In these guinguettes it may be obtained for nearly half the money. 
 When a cfuincruette adds an orchestra and a ball-room to its other 
 attractions, it is called a bastrincrue. At the barrier St. Martin 
 there are numerous places of this sort, and, for a great number 
 of years, there has existed a custom at the close of the Carnival, 
 after finishing the bal-masques of the city, for all the maskers 
 to ride to this barrier. This has received the name of " the de- 
 scent of the masks." In order to see it in the company of my 
 friends, I arrived at the barrier at four o'clock, a. m. It being 
 then too early, the city balls not ha^-ing finished, we went into 
 one of these bastringues. The price of admission was twenty 
 cents, or one franc each, and entitled us to admission and a bottle 
 of wine a-piece, either white or red Burgundy, and of quite a 
 good quality. See us then entering with a bottle in one hand, a 
 tumbler in the other, with hat askew, endeavoring to have the 
 appearance of " being no better than we should be," — a very 
 necessary precaution in this quarter of the city, and at this time 
 of night. At tables around the room were seated the men, wo- 
 men and children of the lowest classes of society, some eating, 
 all drinking. The soiled dresses gave a not very pleasant odor 
 to the place. On one side, an orchestra of perhaps a dozen mu- 
 sicians were hard at work, and before them sixty or more dancing 
 •with great energy, e^^dently endeavoring to ** get their money's 
 worth." The space for dancing was surrounded by a fence, to 
 keep off the crowd, for the dancers paid for each performance 
 five cents. At the end of the figure the place was vacated, and 
 3* 
 
42 . OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 a man at the gates took his toll on each one, as he entered. Some 
 time was passed here quite pleasantly, but soon, the maskers 
 beginning to arrive, we went into the street to view them. For 
 several hours we stood witnessing the constant succession of car- 
 riages passing by, filled with women and men, some having lan- 
 terns or torches, laughing and shouting, and at seven hi the morn- 
 ing we retired, the current still rolling on. 
 
 This custom, like many of the others connected with the ob- 
 servance of the Carnival, is fast wearing away, and now it is 
 observed more as a matter of habit, than one of real interest. 
 Indeed, the observance of the ceremonies connected with the 
 Cathohc church, are here very much neglected. Their feast days 
 and fast days pass like all others, and are known only by the 
 sound of the bells, which announce them. If you enter the 
 churches on any of these days,, unless perhaps on Christmas, you 
 find but very few worshippers. The marriages are solemnized in 
 the churches, but those that are married are, when there, inat- 
 tentive to the service, and employed, sometimes in conversing, 
 sometimes in laughing. I have even seen the bridegroom with 
 great difficulty restraining his laughter. The Catholic religion 
 . prescribes a peculiar diet for particular seasons, yet few conform 
 to it, and, when asked the reason, and on being charged with not 
 heing Catholics, they reply, that they are Catholics, but not 
 " devotes.'^ I inquired of several, what they said when they went 
 to confession ? They rephed, that " they merely answered the 
 questions of the priest." But did you not confess, literally speak- 
 ing, any sin that you had committed ? " If he asked me, I did, 
 sometimes. ^^ Thus, the confessional is merely a dead-letter, a 
 form only. I am afraid that the character of the priests in gen- 
 eral, is not such as to raise the standard of religion, or even of 
 morality. Many of the better classes, of both sexes, have said to 
 me, after conversing upon their habits with that freedom, which 
 is done only in France, " I like the religion very much, but I do 
 not like the priests." The grisettes have given me descriptions 
 of their actions and conversation, even in the confessional, which 
 are equal to anything in the book published as the disclosures of 
 Maria Monk. For their truth I cannot vouch. They have, how- 
 
ORDER OF THE HOLY CROSS. 43 
 
 ever, been told me by more than one, names mentioned, and 
 even the churches to which they were attached, the description 
 of the person, &c, <fec. They are such, that if true, must neces- 
 sarily sink their reputation in the eyes of every one. Is it 
 strange, that with such a clergy, or at least with the general be- 
 lief among the community of their character, that the reputation 
 of the church should decline ? 
 
 His holiness, the Pope,* is in not much better repute. False- 
 hood, however, is the crime alleged to him. The passion for 
 wearing decorations is here the mania, as that for wearing the title 
 of Major, or General, is in the United States. The order of the 
 Holy Cross, in the gift of the Pope, may be bought, as I am credi- 
 bly informed, for fifty dollars, from his ambassador, and with it, a 
 statement from the Pope himself, that it was earned by some meri- 
 torious deed, which is mentioned with numerous particulars, done 
 in behalf of the church. I question, if the Puseyites in receiv- 
 ing the creed, accept the Pope and his clergy with it. The 
 Protestants of Paris have a much higher reputation. They are 
 styled by the Catholics devotes. 
 
 m / 
 
 * Gregory XVI. Since deceased. 
 
 I 
 
VIII. 
 
 Weather — Fuel — Poor — Grand Opera — Viennese Dancing Girls— 
 Carlotta Grisi — Duchess D'Aumale — Princess and Prince Db 
 
 JoiNVILLE PeRSIANI MaRIO JULIA GrIZI. 
 
 This has been an uncomfortable winter. I would not com- 
 plain, merely because the French language is a stranger to the 
 word comfort ; but the misery is, that comfort is not to be met 
 with anywhere, neither in the language, nor the houses, nor the 
 streets. Many of the latter are shockingly muddy and destitute 
 of trottoirs ; and the sidewalks, where any exist, are so narrow, 
 that it is necessary to step into the gutter, to permit another per- 
 son to pass. Without being very cold, the weather is often ex- 
 cessively chilly. On the day of the meeting of the Chamber of 
 Deputies in the latter part of December, a fog, as dense as any 
 that float over the river Connecticut in a summer's morninor, en- 
 veloped the city, completely shrouding the king and the whole 
 military host from view. It lasted all the day and night, the 
 impenetrable darkness of which resisting every effort to disperse 
 it by extra lights at the corners of the streets, occasioned serious 
 accidents. Such is the state of things abroad. The administra- 
 tion of affairs within doors is very little better. In the ordinary 
 sort of residences, a room is separated from the rest of the house 
 by a frame covered with paper. The windows are large, and 
 open with a hinge. These are frail defences against a wintry 
 atmosphere ; for snow and ice are not uncommon visitants at 
 Paris. The means of warming these airy dwellings is, perhaps, a 
 white China stove ; and the heat, evolved by the combustion of 
 green wood, of course takes French leave up the chimney. I 
 believe it impossible to get dry wood here, because it is sold by 
 weio^ht. 
 
 44 
 
THE POOR.— THE GRAND OPERA. 45 
 
 For several days past, the weather has been cold and warm, 
 wet and dry. The thermometer has fallen to 14° Fahrenheit, and 
 the cold has quite terrified the people, unaccustomed to such 
 severity. The Seine was frozen over a few days, sufficiently to 
 suspend navigation. This, apparently a trivial matter, was of 
 very great importance to the inhabitants, especially the poor ; 
 for the suspension of navigation immediately produced an ad- 
 vance in the price of coal of five cents on the hundred pounds. 
 The French custom, which exists among the better classes from 
 inclination, and among the lower from necessity, of living from 
 " hand to mouth," obliges them to purchase fuel every week ; so 
 that, in case of obstruction in navigation, the stock on hand is 
 soon exhausted ; especially at this time, when the consumption 
 is much more rapid than usual, in consequence of the augmented 
 rigor of the weather. Thus the great evil in this, as in most 
 other cases, in France, falls upon the poor. Several slight show- 
 ers of snow, which covered the dirty streets with a white coat of 
 some two inches in thickness, has entirely destroyed the equili- 
 brium of the people. Were they half as active in removing the 
 slimj^ slippery, filth, which fills most of the thoroughfares, as 
 they are in carting away this cleanly visitor, more might be said 
 of their neatness, which cannot now be included in the catalosfue 
 of their virtues. Indeed, the papers are loud in their praises of 
 the department for putting three thousand workmen (half wo- 
 men !) and six hundred carts, in employ to remove the snow, and 
 empty it into the Seine. 
 
 Saturday evening I attended the Grand Opera, on the occa- 
 sion of the benefit of thirty-six young dancing girls from Vienna. 
 These children are between the ages of four and fifteen years, 
 and their astonishing performances have drawn a crowd during 
 six weeks, which has filled the largest theatre in Paris. On this 
 evening, notwithstanding the prices were nearly doubled, (vary- 
 ing from one dollar to four, according to the situation) the house 
 was crammed to its utmost capacity. The play of Moliere's 
 Le Bourgeoise Gentilhomme, afforded an excellent opportu- 
 nity for these performers. The Polka and Mazourka were intro- 
 duced with great effect. The novel and difficult figures, and the 
 
46 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 extraordinary skill of these little children, brought down thunders 
 of applause. Though viewing them with pleasure, I could not 
 banish the thought, that their lot at present was similar to that 
 of dancing dogs ; that their wonderful art and grace were not 
 acquired in the splendid satin robes, which they then wore, but 
 in soiled rags, and at the expense of reproofs and blows. Their 
 sweet countenances, as yet imused to dissimulation, too plainly 
 rev^ealed the fact, that this exhibition, causing transports to 
 others, was a weary labor to them. But when the beholder 
 thinks of their future life, his pleasure is still further diminished. 
 Young and innocent now, very soon they become kept mistress- 
 es, and their descent is afterwards rapid to the condition of the 
 common courtezan, the street-sweeper, the inmate of the hospital, 
 the subject of the dissecting-room ! Here we leave them — the 
 secrets of another world are not, as yet, unfolded. 
 
 The " Ball of Gustavus," among others of reputation, intro- 
 duced Mademoiselle Carlotta Grisi, who, after Ellsler and Cerito, 
 holds the first rank as a dancer ; Taglioni's departure from the 
 stage making her the third on the list. According to the opin- 
 ion of many, sanctioned by the general applause, which she 
 elicited, 
 
 " She ne'er danced better, 
 Every footstep fell as lightly 
 As the moonbeam on the waters." 
 
 In the concluding dance by the Viennese, some one, instead of 
 a bouquet, more wisely threw upon the stage several boxes of 
 sugar-plums, the breaking of which caused more activity than 
 grace among them. Those, who thought them Cupids before, 
 suffered a terrible shock in their feelings by the sudden meta- 
 morphosis. 
 
 Among the distinguished spectators were the Duchess D'Au- 
 male, and the Princess and Prince de Joinville. The keenest 
 aspirer for rank and station, unless totally devoid of taste, would 
 hesitate to accept the eminence of the young prince, if he were 
 obliged to take with it the princess also. To be sure, he would 
 possess a princess of Brazil, and a heap of gold and diamonds, 
 but with them must be included a face, whose most prominent 
 
DUCHESS D'AUMALE.— GRTSL— PERSIANI, &c. 47 
 
 characteristic is a long nose, which does not appear less long, or 
 ugly, because it is princely ; a skin probably colored by contact 
 with Brazilian gold ; and a neck, which, though rivaling the 
 SAvan's in length, certainly does not in whiteness, or in grace. 
 Her head-dress, of flamingo colors, was deficient in that taste, 
 which belongs to every French woman of the realm. The 
 Duchess D'Aumale, though coming from the extreme south of 
 Italy, has the complexion of a Saxon. Her face, devoid of color, 
 is deformed by a nose, which, sympathising with her neighbor's 
 in length, has apparently received some blow, which renders it 
 somewhat of a pug. This is a term I desire to use with diffi- 
 dence, because I fear it may not be often heard at court in rela- 
 tion to the nasal organs of royalty. If not, you must pardon me 
 for the sake of the truth which it expresses. A feather of a 
 bluish tint was very well arranged, and dropped gracefully over 
 the left ear. In short, neither they, nor the prince, were adapted 
 to make a favorable impression on one, whose ideas of the beauty 
 of princesses and princes had been drawn from his researches 
 in the Arabian Nisfhts' Entertainments. 
 
 Last evening was the benefit of Madame Grisi, at the Italian 
 Opera, and a large company of auditors ** assisted," as the 
 French phrase has it, at the representation. The evening per- 
 formances commenced with the first act of * La Ssomnambula,' by 
 Bellini, in which Madame Persiani, and Monsieur Mario sung 
 most delightfully. The praises of both of these celebrated ac- 
 tors have been wafted all over the world ; it is therefore needless 
 for me to attempt a description. Her voice is not powerful, but 
 sweet and flexible, and lingers on the ear long after its sounds 
 have died away. It is in her graceful execution, that she is most 
 distinguished. All vocalists know the great difficulty of singing 
 softly, and at the same time well. But Persiani executes the 
 most difficult strains upon the lowest and highest keys alike, in 
 the most touching manner, when the least noise in the house 
 would entirely drown her notes. Her shakes and trills, like the 
 motion of the trembling leaves of the silver aspen, which rustle 
 without a breath of wind, are performed without apparent effort. 
 In personal appearance it cannot be denied, that she is rathsr 
 
48 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 plain. " I would not hear her enemies say so." The critics, I 
 believe, give her the palm among the artists in Paris. 
 
 Mario is by birth a Prince of Italy, but, like many others of 
 that country, was poor. If he is so now, it is his own fault, as 
 his large salary at this theatre, and in London, if saved, would 
 soon enrich him. In point of rank, he stands below the celebrat- 
 ed Rubini, now in St, Petersburg. His voice is a fine tenor, sweet 
 and flexible, and is augmented in compass by a falsetto of very 
 superior excellence. As an actor, he is not distinguished. The 
 second piece, the famous Norma, likewise by Bellini, exhibited 
 Grisi in her best character. The residents in and around New 
 Jersey, are all familiar with the Opera ; but were they to witness 
 the " queen of song," in this her best part, I think they would 
 be obliged to confess, that " the half had never been told them !" 
 
 Though to Grisi, as a singer, is assigned by the critics a rank 
 inferior to Persiani, and Dorus Gras of the French Opera, her 
 performances are much better liked. This is because she com- 
 bines beauty with tragic and musical talent. As a beauty, she is 
 not precisely what we should call so in America, where women, 
 thus distinguished, must not very much exceed the age of twenty 
 years. At forty-five, Madame Grisi is not a rose-bud, but the 
 fidl blown flower. In her, one looks in vain for the delicious tint 
 of youth, but this by gaslight is not much needed. In its place 
 shines out the matured woman. Her face is oval, full, with regu- 
 lar features, Grecian nose, exquisitely beautiful teeth, and black, 
 glossy hair, which, in length and beauty, rivals George Sands' 
 description of the famous chevelure, of the Princess Quintilian. 
 Her eyes may be gray, or blue, or black. One can scarcely 
 seize their color, so changeable are they every moment. The 
 expression of the countenance, when at rest, is sad, melancholy ; 
 but, when excited by the character which she personates, it vivid- 
 ly reflects her varying emotions. As a tragedian, I have seen no 
 equal in her sex. In the distinct line of tragedy, where plain 
 prose is unencumbered Avith musical expression, I question, if she 
 does not surpass even Rachel herself. Though laboring under 
 this serious disadvantage, her passages are enunciated with start- 
 ling impetuosity. Her tones and acts of tenderness, or passion, 
 
MADAME GRISI. 49 
 
 possess a truthfulness, which find a response in the breast of 
 every hearer. If inferior in talent and cultivation, as a singer, 
 to Persiani, or Dorus Gras, which I am, myself, imwilling to allow, 
 her immensely powerful voice, far superior to either of her rivals, 
 added to her imposing presence, and tragic force, renders her by 
 far the superior artist. This is evident from the fact, that she is 
 engaged for the coming season in London at the Queen's Theatre, 
 while Persiani is rejected. 
 
 It is really a pity, that one, so distinguished for talents, should 
 be almost as much so for her gallantry. Her history, as far as I 
 can learn, is substantially this. She was born in a small village 
 near Milan, where she first appeared. Nothing very remarkable 
 distinguished her performances there. For several years she sang 
 unnoticed, till accident brought her to Paris. Following the for- 
 tunes of a banished lover, she broke her theatrical engagement, 
 and the next we hear of her is on the French stage, and at the 
 same time the mistress of an English nobleman. Her beauty and 
 talents induced Lord Castlereagh to overlook her character as a 
 woman, and he soon after married her. After a few years, being 
 divorced by law, and once more free, she Hved with the celebrat- 
 ed composer Bellini (who wrote for her * / Puritani') till his 
 death, when she passed to the great singer Rubini, now at St. 
 Petersburg. On his departure, his place in the affections of this 
 apparently easily pleased woman, was soon supplied by his suc- 
 cessor at the opera, Mario. This lady, whose talents and beauty 
 may shade, but cannot conceal her faults, was received on this 
 night of her benefit with boundless plaudits, and pelted with 
 bouquets throughout the evening. At the close of the perfor- 
 mance, when called out to receive the homage of the audience, 
 her path was literally on flowers. Wreaths and bouquets almost 
 covered the stage, thrown by the fair hands of the nobility and 
 beauty of France. Her salary for six months in Paris is sixty 
 thousand dollars, and it is the same in London. 
 
IX. 
 
 Love of Country — Dakger of Assassination^ — Tapis Francs — Prev- 
 alence OF Crime — The Morgue — Henri Herz — Concert of Six- 
 teen Pianos and Thirtt-two Platers — Priests — Midwifery — 
 Artificial Arm. 
 
 The reception of letters from home, after a lapse of almost 
 five months without the least tidings, has a very enlivening eflfect. 
 I am astonished at the avidity with which I seek for news from 
 America, though of persons and things of which I possessed no 
 previous knowledge : every thing is attended with interest. Ah ! 
 the ties that bind one to his country are strong indeed. They 
 hve in the forest of his recollections. They are bound strongly 
 around the family tree, and run along its numerous branches. 
 They cling to the stumps of old friendships, which seem to have 
 received new life, and wind themselves around the unfading 
 image of schoolboy days, which, hke the sohtary pine, a scathed 
 and blackened remnant of a noble company, that have passed 
 away forever, still exists, a pleasant vision in the soul, though 
 draped by sorrow and bereavement. They are twisted together 
 with old loves, which, though their verdant tops have been long 
 since dead, remain firmly fixed in the heart. 
 
 One may well think of home, when it is so uncertain whether 
 he will ever see again the shores of his native country. Not only 
 does he encounter the chances of a natural death from change 
 of climate, the dangers of the sea, and the accidents of travel by 
 land, but even when quietly at rest in his Paris home, he is sub- 
 ject to one unknown in the United States. The hazard of assas- 
 sination is by no means sUght, and is equally dreaded by the 
 man of courage and the timid. To give you a faint conception, 
 I will mention a few circumstances, which have lately happened 
 
 50 
 
TAPIS FRANCS.— PREVALENCE OF CRIME. 51 
 
 in this city, filled as it is with troops constantly on guard in nu- 
 merous places ; with agents of police, and secret spies of govern- 
 ment. One can scarcely go ten steps at midday or midnight, 
 without meeting some of these gentry. Notwithstanding this, a 
 young woman walking, a short time ago, through the very heart 
 of the city, was met, near the Italian Opera House, by a well- 
 dressed man, who, after passing her, turned suddenly round, and 
 placed a mask of pitch upon her face, so that she could neither 
 call for assistance, nor even breathe. He bound her fast, and, 
 after robbing her of one dollar and seventy-five cents, left her to 
 her fate. Fortunately, she was soon discovered and her mask 
 removed, before she was entirely sufibcated. This was trans- 
 acted almost under the eyes of the guard, and at only eleven 
 o'clock at night. 
 
 Scarcely two weeks ago, the police surrounded the guin- 
 guettes and tapis francs, at the barrier of St. Martin's, which 
 I visited a short time before, and gave you a slight description of, 
 in a recent letter. The readers of Eugene Sue's " Mysteries of 
 Paris," very well know the character of the tapis franc. They 
 took from them two hundred and ninety-nine persons, and put 
 them into prison. On a subsequent examination, one hundred 
 and ninety-nine of them, who could give a satisfactory account 
 of their manner of living, were set at liberty. The remaining 
 one hundred are retained for trial. Among them are numerous 
 murderers, thieves, and other felons. An entire band of assas- 
 sins and thieves, to the number of eighteen, was included in this 
 single draught of the net of the police. 
 
 In a part of one of these tapis francs, called the Cave, was 
 found the body of a murdered man. 
 
 Ten days ago, the chief of a band of murderers and robbers 
 was guillotined. Though but twenty-three years of age, young 
 Fourrier had confessedly killed twenty-four men ! I hope that 
 this is not a specimen of the Fourrier system, which my friend 
 Horace Greely so warmly and ably advocates. I saw his body 
 and head in the dissecting-room. His physiognomy would not 
 lead any one to doubt the truth of the charges alleged against him. 
 A carriage was stopped, a few nights since, in front of Meu- 
 
52 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 rice's Hotel — the resort of all American and English travellers — 
 and its occupants plundered at nine in the eve ! Coming still 
 nearer, only Monday evening last, in the next street to me, a man 
 was assassinated and robbed of two or three dollars at ten 
 o'clock in the night. In this short street there is a guard-house, 
 and having a friend residing there, I have been accustomed to 
 pass through it at all hours of the night. 
 
 Some of my brave Americans may ask me, ** Why do you not 
 carry arms, so that when you see a suspicious individual ap- 
 proaching you may be ready ?" In answer to this I say, the 
 assassins are not suspicious looking individuals. As you are 
 walking in the street, you pass a well-dressed man, who instantly 
 turns, and the first suspicion of your danger is derived from feel- 
 ing a poniard in the back. 'Tis then too late to stand on the 
 defensive, and draw your dagger. In a moment you are robbed, 
 and thrown over the quay into the Seine. The next morning 
 your friends, seeking for you, find your body in the Morgue. 
 
 This structure has been often described. It is a building ap- 
 propriated for a receptacle of all persons found dead in the city. 
 As I pass by it, on my way to the hospital ** Hotel-Dieu," I fre- 
 quently look in. What tales of suffering those gloomy walls 
 might tell, could they but echo back the groans of the many 
 wretches, that have therein been deposited ! The poor seduced 
 girl, who in despair has thrown herself from the quay into the 
 rapid, turbid Seine, is fished up, brought hither, stripped of all 
 her clothing, which is hung up by her side, a soiled cloth placed 
 upon her loins, and exposed for public exhibition. Here, too, is 
 brought the miserable and decrepid man, who has died from cold 
 and hunger at the corner of a street. But no one claims his 
 withered, meagre body, and he is carried to the silent tomb in a 
 coffin of rough boards, without a relative to follow him to the 
 grave, or a friend to shed a tear. Poverty begets no friends. 
 
 To change the subject, let me tell you of a concert which I 
 attended on the 20th. It was given by the celebrated Henri 
 Herz, whose music is in the hands of every one in the United 
 States. It was held at half-past one o'clock, p. m., in his saloon. 
 This is one of the most magnificent rooms in Paris, Its lofty 
 
HENRI HERZ. 53 
 
 walls are supported by numerous richly carved and gilt pillars, 
 and ornamented with portraits in fresco of Weber, Beethoven, 
 and others. The whole interior was radiant with gold, and this 
 morning, with diamonds, bright eyes, and beaming faces. The 
 performance^ consisted principally of duos, trios, and quartettes 
 upon the piano, by the pupils of Herz, together with some fine 
 solo singing and solos on the violin and bass-viol, or as more fash- 
 ionably styled, viohncello. Herz himself assisted in one piece, 
 but it ^vas not one calculated to exhibit his powers. The most 
 peculiar compositions were the following : ** Overture of * Puits 
 d 'Amour,' Balfe, arranged for fifteen pianos by M. Billard, and 
 executed by thirty pupils." " Overture of ' Semiramide,' Rosini, 
 arranged for sixteen pianos and executed by thirty-two pupils. 
 These were produced with very fine efiect. Such a number of 
 instruments of this kind played together, is, I think, a novelty, 
 even in Paris. This concert was entirely gratuitous, and intend- 
 ed to exhibit the proficiency of the pupils, many of whom had 
 gained prizes. The pianists were all young girls, whose ages va- 
 ried from twelve to twenty. The youngest indeed executed as 
 well, if not better, than any of the others. In short, it was a 
 performance which well sustained the reputation of their instructor. 
 In music and dancing one frequently has a pot-pourrL I think, 
 that a similar melange of tittle-tattle, odds-and-ends, and gossip, 
 may well enough serve the turn of bringing this letter to a close. 
 Voila ! Two great men honor Paris with their presence. Lord 
 Brougham, and General Tom Thumb. M. Michelet, the celebra- 
 ted lecturer and writer, has lately issued a work, of which the 
 first edition was almost immediately sold ; the second edition be- 
 ing issued in three weeks. It is entitled " The priest, the wife, 
 the family." The attack, commenced in previous works against the 
 clergy, as at present existing, is kept up with great spirit. M. 
 Michelet lectures three times a week at the college of France to a 
 most crowded audience, who come from half-an-hour to an-hour 
 beforehand to obtain a seat. A celebrated Abbe who has attempt- 
 ed to answer his charges, lecturing with more warmth than judg- 
 ment, has been compelled to discontinue his course by order of 
 government. 
 
 4 
 
54 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 The treatise on Midwifery by Chailly, of this city, translated by 
 Dr. Bedford of New York, has passed into a second edition here, 
 much augmented, and improved. The medical community await 
 with great impatience a treatise on the same subject by the cele- 
 brated Paul Dubois, who is at the head of this braneh in France, 
 It is the labor of many years, and besides containing all the pre- 
 vious information in relation to it up to the present time, will be 
 enriched with new matter, derived from the investigation of its 
 talented author. It is said that the work is already in the hands 
 of the publishers. 
 
 Another hospital is shortly to be commenced in this city, to be 
 called the Louis Phihppe. 
 
 M. Magendie read on Monday last, in the name of a committee 
 of the Academy, composed of Messrs Gambey, Velpeau, Rayer 
 and Magendie, a report upon an artificial arm presented by M, 
 Van Petersen, a Dutch sculptor. "It is not one of the least pro- 
 digies of human industry to be able in some sort to re-construct 
 the work of the Creator by repairing destroyed organs, and even 
 replacing them entirely, by means of mechanical apparatus. The 
 new invention, which M. Magendie has made known to the Acade- 
 my, the object of which is to replace the entire arm, and even 
 both of them, is certainly one of the boldest of its kind ; and the 
 service, which it promises to render to a large number of mutil- 
 ated unfortunates, accounts for the interest with which the com- 
 mittee are examining it. To replace the arm and hand in all the 
 extent, variety, rapidity and precision, which nature has given to 
 the motion of this member, is doubtless a thing impossible ; and 
 the inventor exhibits no such lofty pretensions. He proposes 
 only to give to persons deprived of their arms, the power of per- 
 forming for themselves actions the most simple and necessary to 
 existence. The committee of the Academy have seen the inven- 
 tion of M. Van Petersen upon five mutilated individuals, and 
 among others upon an invahd, who has been deprived of both 
 arms ever since the wars of the empire, and who, by the aid of 
 two artificial arms, took with his hand a full glass, carried it to 
 his mouth, drank from it without spilling a drop, and then re- 
 placed the glass upon the table, from which he had taken it. 
 
ARTIFICIAL ARM. 55 
 
 This same disabled man can pick up a pin, take hold of a sheet 
 of paper, &c. 
 
 The artificial arm of M. Van Petersen, is not adapted indiflfer- 
 ently to all, who have lost an arm ; those only, who have pre- 
 served untouched the superior part of the humerus, are fitted to 
 profit by it, and it can render no service to those who have no 
 stump, and have submitted to an amputation of the shoulder. 
 The invention is composed of three parts, articulated and move- 
 able, which represents the arm, the forearm, and the hand. This 
 last composes a kind of wrist, with fingers of triple phalanges, 
 moveable, and maintained in a finn state of flexion and resistance 
 with the thumb by springs. The whole weighs scarcely five hun- 
 dred grammes, (equal to about a pound of the standard weight 
 of the mint of Paris.) The stump of the maimed arm is received 
 in a cavity of the machine, and the following is the contrivance, 
 by the aid of which M. Van Petersen has succeeded in making 
 the different parts play upon one another. A corset is fastened 
 over the breast. To this corset are attached catgut strings, some 
 of which are fixed to the forearm, others to the fingers. When 
 the maimed man carries the stimip forward, he exerts attraction 
 upon the forearm, and bends it on the arm. When, on the con- 
 trary, he moves it backward, the forearm stretches out upon the 
 arm. It is by this double movement, that the hand is carried to, 
 or removed from, the mouth. The movements of the fingers are 
 produced by analogous mechanism ; and the committee have 
 been struck with the celerity and precision, to which mutilated 
 persons have arrived in executing them. The idea of employing 
 a corset, as a support necessary to overcome the resistance of 
 mechanical fingers shut by springs, is not new. Quite recently, 
 Grafe had indicated the part, which might be drawn upon for the 
 construction of a mechanical arm ; but no one, until now, has 
 been able to execute this project, at least with the success which 
 M. Van Petersen has obtained. The committee think, that the 
 invention of the latter is preferable to any, that has been pre- 
 viously conceived with the same design. They hope, that the 
 author will be able to improve it still further, and especially to 
 reduce its price, so as to render it accessible to the amputated 
 poor and to mutilated soldiers." 
 
X. 
 
 Fashions— Birth-Dat of Washington — Ball of the American Min- 
 ister — Expenses of the Embassy — Ball of the Cafe Tortoni. 
 
 " What !" — I think I hear the ladies say — ** so many weari- 
 some long letters, and not a line about the idol of our hearts ! 
 Among dingy princesses with long noses, and splendid actresses 
 with short-comings, the empress herself, who rules them all, has 
 been wholly overlooked. And this, too, in her own metropolis, 
 and in the very seat of her fascinating court. How is it, that 
 you only find time to prose away about women who wear masks 
 and breeches, and poor he-devils too indigent to get either ; 
 artistes of good heels, or voices, rewarded with salaries of one 
 hundred thousand dollars a year, and miserable beings, of good 
 hearts, who starve in the shadow of the theatres and opera 
 houses, where crowds are paying their costly and noisy homage ^- 
 
 to those frail divinities that reign -wdthin ? Pray, say no more J 
 
 about a nation who cannot do without a king, and yet don't ? 
 
 know when they have got a good one — till you have told us \ 
 
 what the fashion is." -j 
 
 Really, I wonder at the oversight myself. Beside a dozen :,. 
 
 more as good, the intrinsic difficulty of the subject must be an ^ 
 
 ample apology. The painter could not catch the Protean fea- 
 tures of the inimitable Garrick. Which of you can stay the eva- 
 nescent shapes and tints of the sunset clouds, while you are put- 
 ting them down upon the canvas ? If one passes along the 
 streets of Paris to see the mode, he is, at the very outset, " in 
 a sea of trouble." Two persons can hardly be met with, who 
 agree in dress. Enter into any place, a hat or bonnet shop, for 
 instance, and inquire for their goods in the best style, a half dozen 
 
 i 
 
FASHIONS. 57 
 
 will be shown, all of which the polite tenders assure you, 
 are equally in the fashion, and equally worn. Every body in the 
 the United States knows very well, that the fashions there origi- 
 nate in Paris ; but, every body asks, whence do the Parisians 
 get them? This is the important secret, which I am about 
 to tell. It was disclosed to me by the highest possible author- 
 ity — which you will all acknowledge to be so, too — a milliner 
 in the best street in the Latin quarter, where I reside. In the 
 meantime, pray ladies don't allow yourselves to be thinking of 
 caps and bonnets, for if you do, not all the ** Brown's and Pres- 
 ton's Inexhaustible Smelling Salts " will prevent a hysterical fit, 
 after you have heard the secret. When I certify, that this ac- 
 complished woman has had twenty years' experience in the busi- 
 ness, I think you will allow, that I know how fashions are in- 
 vented without the shadow of a doubt. 
 
 Take a stroll in Broadway on any fine day, and you will ob- 
 serve, that every one is dressed alike. The coat is cut the same, 
 the pants are apparently turned out by a machine, and boots 
 have toes of the same curve, and heels of the same height. I 
 wonder, if those petit-maitres, who plume themselves on being 
 bien chausse, know, that stable-boys in Paris sport French boots. 
 If they are indeed aware of this surprising fact, is it not strange, 
 that they should worship them, as they do ? The freedom ex- 
 isting here in the selection of one's dress allows, it must be 
 obvious, the exercise of taste. If any one is pleased to think, 
 that a particular shape, or combination of color would be becom- 
 ing, a garment is forthwith constructed according to her fancy. 
 Another is struck with the phenemenon, approves its taste, and 
 straightway orders one like it. Thus many styles have at the 
 same time their respective partizans ; but that which obtahis the 
 largest suffrage is said to culminate, and is thenceforth pro- 
 nounced the fashion. Thereupon it is forwarded to America, 
 and seized upon in haste by all, each expanding its peculiarities in 
 the most outre manner, in her eagerness to outdo her neiglibors, 
 and become the most fashionable. One says, that bustles are the 
 fashion ; yet six in Paris might be made of the hair, straw, bran 
 or cotton, that go to the composition of one, which forms the 
 
58 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 beautiful outline of a Broadway belle. At present, indeed, an- 
 other texture is said to usurp the throne ; but it is not to be 
 expected, that I should know any thing concerning it. 
 
 At several recent balls, where I have been present, I observed 
 the different toilets quite critically ; but it is a difficult matter to 
 decide what was the rage, silks or satins, muslins or velvets. In 
 one thing all agreed, that diamond tiaras, necklaces, ear-rings, &c. 
 (kc, were in good taste, provided the stones were as large as 
 small filberts. The toilet for young men consists of black dress 
 coat and pants, vest of white marseilles embroidered, with a cra- 
 vat of black satin, or white stamped cotton, only long enough to 
 tie in front ; or a vest of cassimere embroidered with silk, with 
 a white cravat, as above. Full toilet requires pumps and silk 
 hose. 
 
 Last evening was passed by most of the Americans in Paris in 
 the same manner as they have been accustomed to spend at home 
 the anniversary of the birth of Washington. Mr. King, our ex- 
 cellent minister at the court of France, opened his house on this 
 occasion for the reception of the Americans in Paris, and such 
 others as were interested in the welfare of America. This was 
 the first ball that his health has permitted him to give this win- 
 ter, and I think, since his arrival in the country. Unfortunately 
 the change, from the dry and warm atmosphere of his own state 
 to this constantly damp and cold city, prevents his seeing his 
 countrymen so often as his natural hospitality would dictate. At 
 this time, however, the Americans in Paris were collected togeth- 
 er for the first time. I found several old acquaintances and 
 townsmen, who I imagined to be still at home, where I had left 
 them. It was quite late, near eleven o'clock, when I arrived, " 
 having been detained by the breaking down of my hack. As I 
 entered the spacious apartments, and saw the graceful forms in 
 the mazes of the whirling waltz, I did not think the Americans 
 were far behind the French, either in beauty or any other respect. 
 The only ornament to the rooms was a portrait of Washington, a 
 copy by Healy, from the celebrated original, belonging, I believe, 
 but am not sure, to Lord Landsdown. It was, at any rate, a por- 
 trait of the incomparable Washington, and that was enough to 
 
BIRTH-DAY OF WASHINGTON. 59 
 
 arouse all oui* patriotic ardor. It is strange, how little the 
 French know of this great man. One of them, on reading my 
 invitation, which stated that it was in honor of the birth of Wash- 
 ington, very inquisitively asked, Vashington, Vashington, qui 
 est cet Vashington la ? At the palace of Versailles there is a 
 picture representing a scene in American history, where General 
 Rochambeau is placed in a most conspicuous situation, and 
 Washington is cast quite into the shade by his greatness. Ex- 
 otics and other flowers embelhshed, and, at the same time, scat- 
 tered delightful odors throughout the saloons. Surrounded by 
 those who spoke the same language, and whose breasts were 
 swelled by similar emotions for the first time in this land of 
 strangers, I felt myself at home. Here were fair examples of 
 the grace and beauty of the cities of New York, Philadelphia, 
 Boston, Charleston, New Orleans, as well as specimens of no- 
 bility and station in the persons of the Piince and Princess de 
 Joinville, Duke de Montpensier, the Austrian, Prussian, and 
 other repsesentatives at this Court, and many of the nobihty of 
 Enorland and other countries. The news of the decease of the 
 brother of the British Ambassador prevented the attendance of 
 Lord Cowley. I had the honor of dancing the Polka several 
 times with a pretty, graceful, and animated grand- daughter of 
 •General Lafayette. The present consul, Mr. Walsh, the ex-con- 
 sul Mr. Draper, and their famihes, were among the guests. 
 Mons. GuLzot, whose health would not allow him to be there in 
 person, sent his regrets, stating his great respect for the memory 
 of the illustrious American patriot- 
 
 With such music, as was poured around by Tolbecque, and 
 his celebrated band, which never fails to infuse hfe and activity 
 into all, who could possibly stand still? Polkas, mazourkas, 
 waltzes, deuix temps et trois, and quadrilles permitted the taste of 
 every one to be gratified. Moreover, we discovered that " Yan- 
 kee Doodle" makes a capital quadrille. 
 
 An excellent table in an adjoining room, loaded with every 
 dehcacy, allowed the guests to refresh themselves as they wished. 
 Behind it the head servant of Mr. King directed his assistants. 
 He is a tall, intelUgent negro, and appears devotedly attached to 
 
60 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 liis master, I said to him one day, " I am very glad to see you, 
 it looks to me so much like home." " Ah, yes/' said he, " but it is 
 not home ; I shall be glad to return," This man, though free, 
 and in a country where the blacks and whites are on an equal 
 footing, and beautiful white w^omen are occasionally seen prome- 
 nading arm-in-arm with them in the streets, and though gratified 
 here with having numerous white servants under his direction, 
 still prefers his southern home, with all the degradations to which 
 he is there exposed. At four o'clock the ball broke up, the or- 
 chestra playing "Hail Columbia," which received the plaudits 
 of the company, when all returned to their temporary homes, to 
 dream, I fancy, of their real ones, so far distant. 
 
 The American Minister is about to- exchange this house for 
 a smaller. His expenses, though giving few dinner parties and 
 no balls, amount to scarcely less than seventy dollars a day. The 
 wood bill alone for a year is fourteen hundred dollars. I was on 
 the point of exclaiming, increase the salaries of the French and 
 English ambassadors, or else abohsh their offices, when a sudden 
 thought quite checked my indignation. How many men have 
 sacrificed, and are perhaps this moment sacrificing their ease, 
 and, I am afraid, in some cases, their consciences too, at home, 
 in order to obtain these same costly, but honorable, offices abroad ' 
 
 Writing to you of one party reminds me of another, which \ 
 attended lately. A slight description of it may give some notion 
 of the difference between the customs of this city and the United 
 States, which, for convenience sake, I hope may some time or 
 other be expressed by a more appropriate name. I would not 
 quarrel with Atlanta or Telluria, Columbia, Yankeedom, or Inter- 
 oceanos, since I could then inform a questioner who I am, which 
 is not an easy thing to do at present. 
 
 The party was given at the cafe Tortoni, on the Boulevard des 
 Italiens. Who, that has ever been at Paris, has not often heard 
 of the celebrated ices of the cafe Tortoni? I do not say ice 
 creamSy because they are composed of neither cream nor milk ; 
 but flavored with every article almost that man was ever induced 
 to taste from the beginning of time till now. Raspberry, straw- 
 berry, lemon, and such like, of course, are used, and chocolate, 
 
BALL OF THE CAFE TORTONI. 61 
 
 coffee, rum, and all sorts of liqueurs. Thinking of these unpar- 
 alleled manufactures has involuntarily led my pen astray ; pardon ! 
 we will return to the ball. 
 
 Madame, the hostess, unfortunately knew few gentlemen, and, 
 as French ladies drink no tea, she justly considered that a party 
 of none but ladies might possibly be quite stupid. I think, my- 
 self, she was right. But how could she obtain these desirable 
 gentlemen, namely, those who could dance, and waltz, and polka ? 
 You will be surprised to be informed, that half the gentlemen 
 have not these valuable gifts, though we have always thought 
 tliat Frenchmen brought them with them at their birth. So she 
 asked a friend of hers to invite six gentlemen to come and dance, 
 eat her ices, and be agreeable. Unluckily, the male acquaint- 
 ances of her friend proved to be not more numerous than her 
 own, so she asked my hostess — who asked me, and I — asked three 
 American friends. On my accepting, the husband of the friend 
 came to make my acquaintance the evening of the ball. We 
 agreed to meet at the place. Arriving there before him, we in- 
 tended to wait in the anteroom till his appearance. In this we 
 were prevented by the host, who, on hearing the name of the 
 person who invited us, insisted on our entering. When the gen- 
 tleman and his wife came, he introduced me to her, to whom I 
 introduced my friends, after which he introduced us all to the 
 lady of the house. 
 
 This is all that etiquette demands. One asks anybody to dance 
 with him, whether an acquaintance or not ; and after the dance 
 is finished, it is the lady who says, ** I am much obliged to you !" 
 When I heard this first, I was astonished. I thought it was 
 something peculiar and extraordinary, began to be a httle proud, 
 and replied, ** Certainly not ; it is I that am indebted." I here 
 began to feel the risings of a Turkish sentiment, and to question, 
 whether, after all, it is not, in reality, I that do the favor. Such 
 is the effect of custom. 
 4* 
 
XI. 
 
 The pRAno — ^New Year's Day — GHEETiNCfs in FRirATE Life— To Mili- 
 tary Officers of the National Guards — To the King by fifteen 
 HUNDRED Drummers ! — Champs Elysbes — Place Concorde — Obelisk 
 OF Luxor — Goat Carriages— Learned Dogs — -Punch and Judy. 
 
 I QAVB you, in a former letter, some description of the Masked 
 Balls at the Grand Opera in Pans. Every man is naturally de- 
 sirous of penetrating the real character of the people among 
 whom he may happen to be residing. One, among the many 
 ways of acquiring this knowledge, and certainly not the least 
 agreeable, is to observe them in their pleasures and amusements. 
 It is owing to this reason, that I have already written to you, and 
 shall probably continue to write, so largely of balls and parties, 
 of public spectacles, and exhibitions of various sorts, and especial- 
 ly of such as tend to show the social condition of the population, 
 and develope the peculiarities of their domestic relations. It is 
 with this view, in conjunction with others, that every stranger is 
 induced to visit such a place as the Prado. 
 
 This is a ball-room, situated on one of the islands in the Seine, 
 and nearly opposite to the Palace of Justice. This ball rejoices 
 in the reputation of collecting, beyond a question, the lowest class 
 of the community, who have means sufficient to obtain an en- 
 trance. Dancing is absolutely necessary to the very existence of 
 the French, and all indulge in it — the young and old — ^the rich 
 and poor. The numerous students, who reside in this quarter, 
 and are among the most dissolute and reckless inhabitants of the 
 city, compose the dancers, with their mistresses and the common 
 courtezans of the town. No attention is paid to dress whatever. 
 The men make their appearance in soiled frocks, with heavy, 
 muddy boots, and the women in bonnets and shawls, in cottons, 
 
 62 
 
THE PRADO.— NEW-YEAR'S DAY. 63 
 
 or silks, in petticoats, or breeches. Gloves are rarely seen. The 
 dances are the same, as at other and more respectable places, 
 except that the quadrille, which is the common dance, is modified 
 to suit the loose habits of these people. When executed with 
 this freedom, it receives the appellation of cancan. It consists in 
 the cavalier's seizing the dame with both arms around the waist, 
 she often assisting in the embrace ; and so they ** forward and 
 back, cross over and balance." The other figures, are but modi- 
 fications of this hugging, with the exception of a kind of balance, 
 in which the opposite couples approach each other, and then 
 rapidly strike out their feet in a sideway direction, accompanied 
 with a wriggling motion of the body. The whole figure is totally 
 devoid of grace, and its difficulty is its principal recommendation. 
 The American waltzer would be amazed to see the waltzing here. 
 Her sensibility would be shocked to witness the gentlemen clasp- 
 ing with both hands the waist of the lady, and she would be as- 
 tonished at the rapidity with which they turn, and the length of 
 time during which they whirl without fatigue. Considering the 
 class of the community, who frequent these places, their limited 
 means, and the low price for entrance, (twenty-five cents at the 
 Prado, and at many other places ten cents — females admitted 
 gratuitously) one would naturally expect to see a small hall, dim- 
 ly lighted, and of mean appearance. On the contrary, when re- 
 covered from the blaze of light, that blinds him on his entrance, 
 the visitor finds himself in a spacious saloon of one hundred and 
 fifty feet in length, ornamented with numerous mirrors and chan- 
 deliers, dependent from its lofty ceiling. A fine orchestra, whose 
 number varies according to the companies expected to be present, 
 being larger on fete and Sunday nights than others, performs the 
 choicest music of the day. The balls are of various kinds, name- 
 ly, the simple ball, commencing at eight, ending at eleven o'clock 
 — the night ball, beginning at eleven o'clock, p. m. and closing at 
 half-past six a. m. — the masked and the costume fancy balls, 
 both of which are night balls also. 
 
 Many of the customs of New Year's "Day, (to which I seize 
 this occasion to recur,) do not diifer from those which are preva- 
 
64 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 lent in and about New York. As there, so it is here, a time for 
 a general visiting ; and the occasion is embraced either to sustain, 
 or drop, a previous acquaintance. Friends make presents to each 
 other of bon-bons, or more substantial articles. One, too, is pest- 
 ered Avith a crowd of beggars, whose benevolent wishes for your 
 prosperity, are expected to be repaid by silver. Before rising lq 
 the morning, I was thus saluted by the woman having the super- 
 intendence of my room. She had taken the precaution beside 
 to bring her little offspring in her arms, to stammer out a wish 
 for my future welfare. Whatever influence these aspirations 
 might possess to promote my happiness hereafter, it is certain, 
 that they very much disturbed my present enjoyment. The door- 
 keeper was particularly attentive throughout the day. At the 
 cafe, the waiters were uncommonly assiduous in their attendance, 
 and kindly placed before me with my coffee a cornucopia, filled 
 with bon-bon^, which they expected me to pay for, without tak- 
 ing, at double its value. The military officers of the National 
 Guard, past and present, were honored by, from two to twelve 
 drummers, who beat the tatoo beneath their windows to the an- 
 noyance of the whole neighborhood. But the King himself was 
 glorified in a special manner, at twelve o'clock, by all the drum- 
 mers in Paris, to the number of fifteen hundred ! who were col- 
 lected in terrible array, in front of the palace in the garden of 
 the Tuilleries. The thunder of this tremendous rub-a-dub, can 
 be compared to nothing but Milton's " insufferable noise," when 
 
 " confounded chaos roar'd, 
 
 And felt tenfold confusion." 
 
 The usual beat to quarters every night at seven o'clock, in the 
 Place Vendome, executed by fifty-two drummers, assisted by six 
 trumpeters, produces a din sufficiently deafening. It is, however, 
 nothing but a whisper in comparison. Surely his majesty, how- 
 ever ardent may be his love of music and glory, must have taken 
 care to give this martial host their expected gratuity and dismis- 
 sion without the least possible delay. 
 
 On Sundays and fete days, the Champs Ely sees presents many 
 
LEARNED DOGS.— PUNCH AND JUDY. 65 
 
 objects of interest and amusement. Independently of its agree- 
 able walks, the gorgeous Place Concorde, glittering with gilded 
 gas-posts and fountains — the magnificent Obelisk of Luxor, 
 brought at an immense expense from Egypt, and the precursor 
 of the celebrated Cleopatra's Needle ; numberless vehicles of the 
 wealthy, flashing with gold and silver, and bearing, beside the 
 driver, one or two pampered lackeys, who, from their stand upon 
 the rack behind, look down with scorn and pity upon all they 
 pass ; the numerous booths of mountebanks with the never-to-be- 
 forgotten Punch and Judy, and other similar shows ; and, in ad- 
 dition to the whole, the crowds of people of all classes and ages, 
 who throng the trottoirs, present altogether a rare combination 
 of novelty, fun, and splendor, and make the Champs Elysees the 
 scene of never-failing attraction. Here are little carriages, to 
 which a team of goats is harnessed, whose white coats and grace- 
 ful appearance, recall the fairy tales, which excited us so much 
 in infancy ; and which now cling to our memories with such te- 
 nacity, as to cause a doubt, whether they are in reality the recol- 
 lections of past events, or illusive creations of the imagination. 
 But these pretty animals have another office to perform, beside 
 that of bringing to our mind our youthful days. The young 
 children of the wealthy delight to ride in these vehicles, and their 
 good behavior for the preceding week is thus rewarded. Here 
 are men with learned dogs, who, beside many similar tricks, will 
 tell you the time, according to the watch, by selecting from num- 
 bers printed upon cards, and placed before them. This is done 
 in the open air, and all have a right to observe the performance ; 
 the owner being compensated by the generosity of the spectators, 
 who throw him a few sous according to their will. I have always 
 felt a strong desire to see the far-famed Punch and Judy, and 
 now for the first time have had my curiosity gratified. Notwith- 
 standing its simplicity and folly, I regarded it for a time with real 
 pleasure. There is something about it, which is exceedingly at- 
 tractive. I am acquainted with men of science, who would hardly 
 be suspected of a capacity to be thus amused, who have frequent- 
 ly seen it, and always with great satisfaction, though possibly it 
 3* 
 
66 
 
 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 might be for the five hundreth time. I am sure, that none of 
 them could have laughed more heartily than I did. In a walk 
 of half a mile, I remarked six or eight of these booths, and 
 every one surrounded by a merry crowd. Jugglers, somerset 
 tumblers, " sights," as they are called in New-England, and other 
 similar attractions, may be witnessed for a sous, and everywhere 
 abound. 
 
XII. 
 
 Further Account of the Hotel Dieu — Roux — Chomel — Magendie-^ 
 EcoLE Pratique D'Anatomie — Museum of Dupuytren — Shocking 
 Effects of Secret Vice. 
 
 The account of the hospital called Hotel-Dieu, which was the 
 subject of previous letters, will now, after a considerable interval, 
 be resumed. Among the most celebrated of its surgeons, and 
 indeed of the practitioners of Paris, is a httle, fat, good-natured 
 looking man, whose gray hairs cover a forehead always wrinkled, 
 either with laughter or anger. For Mons. Roux is one of those 
 coleric individuals, who are frequently in a passion, but soon out 
 of it ; while his jovial character renders him a favorite professor 
 among the students. His visits and operations are consequently 
 thronged with crowds, but there is a sad falling oflf at his lec- 
 tures. Their proHxity is extremely tedious, and his digressions 
 insupportable. After a discourse of an hour and a half to a 
 larger auditory than usual, attracted by an operation of magni- 
 tude, that was expected to follow, he is accustomed to remark, 
 " Gentlemen, I have no time to say more, and will defer the re- 
 mainder to another day. So much of the morning has been oc- 
 cupied, that the operation must necessarily be postponed." It 
 is not strange, if persons who have patiently sat, till eleven 
 o'clock, without their breakfast, should not always be contented 
 with so impotent a conclusion to his lectures. As an operator, 
 however, there are few better, and, in surgical diseases of the 
 eye, he is particularly distinguished. 
 
 Messrs. Chomel and Magendie are the most eminent among 
 the physicians. The clinique of the former is larger, perhaps, 
 than that of any other physician in Paris. In the diagnosis 
 of the diseases of the lungs he stands at the head of the pro- 
 
 67 
 
68 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 fession. His lectures are perspicuous, and the reports of them, 
 together with the numerous note-books to be seen at their dehv- 
 ery, attest their worth, Mons. Magendie, a translation of whose 
 work on Physiology has been pubhshed in the United States, 
 enjoys a greater reputation abroad than at home. 
 
 In following the unfortunate patients of the numerous hospi- 
 tals, who chance to die, to their final resting-place — which here 
 is not the tomb — we come to the Ecole Pratique d^Anatomie. 
 This is one of the largest pubhc dissecting rooms of this city. 
 And it is the most commodious to the student, being situated in 
 the centre of the Latin quarter, and near the School of Medi- 
 cine. At this, and the amphitheatre of Clamart, four thousand 
 subjects are annually used for anatomical purposes. They are 
 daily transported from all the hospitals, and deposited in a small 
 building appropriated to this object. There are to be seen at 
 this receptacle from twenty to forty at a time, of all colors, ages 
 and conditions — a shocking spectacle to an unprofessional ob- 
 server. Every day, at twelve o'clock, there is a distribution of 
 them among all the classes of students. Every instructor has a 
 small building for his own use, in which are ten or fifteen tables 
 of cast ii'on. The human body may thus be viewed in every 
 stage of dissection, and, I may add, decomposition. By peram- 
 bulating the several buildings, the various parts of the human 
 organism, the nerves, muscles and blood-vessels may be easily 
 examined, and studied. Here, the assiduous student may be 
 seen, with his soiled blouse, and his head bedecked with a fan- 
 tastic cap. In one hand he holds a scalpel, in the other a trea- 
 tise on anatomy. He carries in his mouth a cigar, whose intoxi- 
 cating fumes, so hurtful on most occasions, render him insensible 
 to the smell of twenty bodies, decomposing, putrifying around 
 him. So accustomed is he to this horrid scent, that he perceives 
 not, that his garments are impregnated with it to such a deoree, 
 that persons in the streets turn round to see, if they have not 
 passed a butcher or a stabler. Here, too, is the learned pro- 
 fessor, who thus prepares himself for a difficult operation by re- 
 freshing his anatomy ; and thus rehearses his part in the tranredy 
 to be acted on the morrow. The blood and pieces of flesh upon 
 
MUSEUM OF DUPUYTREN. 69 
 
 the floor, he regards, as the sculptor does the fragments of mar- 
 ble lying round the unfinished statue. The skeleton, dangling in 
 the centre of the room, and the preparations hanging about the 
 walls, possess, in his view, beauties which the world can never 
 see, and he receives more pleasure in their contemplation, than in 
 the masterpieces of Raphael or Titian. But the man, who feeds 
 loith the Jlesh of human heings the dogs, who are kept to take their 
 places on the table in their proper turn, is entirely hardened. 
 There lie these dogs, with their feet bound together, exposed in 
 a latticed cage to the inclemencies of the weather, without even 
 straw to keep them warm, and fed on the bodies of men. Is it 
 strange, that they should whine and bark, and groan, day after 
 day, and snap at their unnatural feeders ? 
 
 The cost of dissecting is about six dollars the season, accord- 
 ing to the abundance of subjects, and the number of students 
 engaged. This insures a subject nearly all the time during the 
 winter. Instruction is given by a professor appointed by tVe 
 government, &c. The attempts at cleanliness are made by ser- 
 vants attached to the institution, and paid also by government. 
 In the summer season, dissecting is forbidden ; but operative 
 anatomy may be studied to great advantage. 
 
 Near this institution is the celebrated Museum of Dupuytren, 
 so called in honor of the distinguished surgeon, who left seventy 
 thousand dollars for the establishment of a professorship of path- 
 ological anatomy. It is only since his death, that the medical 
 school of Paris could boast of a cabinet of this sort. The col- 
 lection is, therefore, not very large. It, however, contains many 
 objects of interest, which are arranged along the walls in glass 
 cases. It embraces all the varieties of disease, but is particu- 
 larly rich in those of osseous structure, and wax casts, and rep- 
 resentations of syplnlitic diseases. This is open to the public 
 every Thursday. The visitor on that day is often astonished at 
 the number of soldiers, who frequent this museum. I found, on 
 inquiry, that, by order of government, the oHicers of regiments 
 publicly recommend those under their command to visit the col- 
 lection, in the hope that the contemplation of the numberless ills 
 which this disorder entails upon mankind, so varied in their form, 
 
70 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 and so horrid in their manifestations, might be a salutary lesson, 
 and make them cautious of indulging in the vice, which is their 
 prolific cause. It is, indeed, a sight which might well startle a 
 man of the firmest nerve. For myself, accustomed to see suffer- 
 ing and death, and never affected at any period of my life with 
 unpleasant sensations, while witnessing, or making operations on 
 the living or the dead, and having had likewise many cases of 
 this disease, in conjunction with others, in my own practice during 
 some years back, let me acknowledge, that the contemplation of 
 these horrors, arranged together, and displaying such a loathsome 
 catalogue of deformities and suffering, for the first time sickened 
 and unmanned me. My brain reeled, a cold chill crept over my 
 body, my limbs lost their power, and I sank helpless on a bench 
 Fathers, parents ! why do you so assiduously keep from your 
 children the knowledge of this disease, and also of its cause ? 
 Why shun all conversation on the subject ? Why not discover 
 to them this vice in all its deformity, and all its lasting and disas- 
 trous consequences ? In all hospitalo ample specimens of this dis- 
 ease may always be seen, with manifestations so horrible as to chill 
 the heart, and make the blood of the young run cold. In the 
 library of almost every physician colored plates may be examin- 
 ed, which will give a lesson that never can fade from the memory ; 
 and which, in moments of temptation, will interpose a barrier be- 
 tween them and crime, too powerful for pleasure to surmount. 
 And, while attending to the subject, let not the parent forget to 
 visit the hospitals of the insane, and point out to them the mahi- 
 dies — the more common American diseases — caused by masturb- 
 ation. Let him there show to his sons, ay, even to his daughters, 
 the disgusting appearances and the wreck of reason, that have 
 followed this description of sensualism. Let neither modesty, 
 nor its counterfeit, prudery, nor any affectation stand in the way 
 of an honest performance of this duty ; but faithfully let him ex- 
 plain the cause and consequence, and leave the tender hearts and 
 good common sense of his children to digest the solemn lesson, 
 and reap its fruits. With this advice, coming strangely, you may 
 think, from the metropolis of France* I close this letter. 
 
XIII. 
 
 French Politeness — Etiqutte — Necessary expenses of Living — 
 Cost of various articles of Dress. 
 
 The French have long enjoyed the reputation of being the 
 pohtest people in the world. The consequence has been, that 
 those, who have presumed to teach the art of politeness, have 
 deemed it prudent frequently to call themselves French, whether 
 they were so in reality or not. Most of the works on etiquette 
 in our country are translations from that language. Everything, 
 in short, which is said or done by them, from the cook to the 
 prince, is thought to be spoken, or performed, in the purest taste 
 and most polished manner. And shall I dare to say, in the face 
 of facts like these, that a most egregious bbinder has been com- 
 mitted ? Would anybody believe me, if I should assert, that 
 they are so deficient in this accomplishment, that it is pure satire 
 to give them the title of polite ? Politeness is surely not a mere 
 matter of words, but a product of the heart. A visible symbol 
 of an emotion of the soul, it can no more be expressed by a for- 
 mula of language, than devotion can be by a posture of the body. 
 It cannot therefore be acquired by a study of forms alone ; and 
 those who put themselves under the tuition of persons, who pro- 
 fess to teach it in ihat manner, will at least succeed in learning, 
 that their instructors are ignorant of its first principles. If polite- 
 ness consists in taking off the hat gracefully, and bowing pro- 
 foundly ; in telling an ugly woman that she is charming — a per- 
 fect angel — then it must be allowed, the French surpass every 
 other nation in this accomplishment. Indeed a French hat, and 
 an American or English one, are made for very different purposes. 
 The latter is designed to be put upon the head, whereas, the 
 
 71 
 
72 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 former is intended only to be taken off. This is a land of 
 perfect equality, as far as the bow goes. The lady and grisette, 
 the friend and stranger, are greeted with the same salutations. 
 The hat is lifted to a certain height, the head kept uncovered a 
 particular length of time, and the body bent to the attitude pre- 
 scribed, while he declares, on his parole d^konneur, that she is 
 charmante, though she may be homelier than the ugliest halayeuse 
 in the city. If, however, these do not compose the standard of 
 politeness, but if, on the contrary, the speaking of the honest 
 truth in kindness, and a willingness to sustain some inconvenience 
 for the accommodation of another, be its genuine characteristics, 
 then the most unsophisticated backwoodsman of the Green 
 Mountains far surpasses the refined of the most polished nation 
 of the globe. 
 
 In matters of etiquette, however, the case, it may be thought, 
 must certainly be otherwise. Well, let us see. It is necessaiy, 
 to be sure, that one should wear a straight-bodied dress coat and 
 white kid gloves at a party or a ball. The former, as it was in- 
 tended to do, is commonly sufficient to absorb all the intellect of 
 the wearer, and the latter all the yellow dirt, while he is perpetu- 
 ally thrusting his digits into his huge snuflf-box. At the theatre, 
 where good manners are affected, the lovely Desdemona, or the 
 sweet Andromache, by way of preparation for her coming part, 
 does not hesitate to turn round and spit upon the stage. At the 
 close of a pathetic scene, the sudden application of a thousand 
 snuffy white pocket handkerchiefs to a thousand sonorous noses 
 cannot fail to heighten the tragical effect. One at first imagines, 
 that he hears the trumpet sounding a charge for a troop of horse, 
 and it takes some time to be so '*up to snuff," as to understand 
 the cause. In the street, one gives you a sudden push, at the 
 same time taking off his hat, and crying pardon ! while you un- 
 expectedly find yourself up to your ancles in the mud and water 
 of the o-utter. Umbrellas have the same orravitation toward the 
 
 o o 
 
 eyes of passengers in this country, as in our own. 
 
 Sometimes this want of politeness is carried to an extent, that 
 bordei*s on brutality. Most of the physicians of Paris have lisen 
 by i\\J\v talents fioni obscuiity and the lowest classes in the com- 
 
EXPENSES OF LIVING. 73 
 
 munity. Among them many are therefore found, as might be 
 expected, whose manners are coarse, and whose movements are 
 ungainly. Mons. Roux is, however, pointed out as possessing an 
 affable deportment, and, in a word, as being a gentleman. This 
 man, a baron of France, a few days ago, operated on a poor 
 fellow for some malady. When the operation was completed, 
 the unfortunate patient requested that some blood, which re- 
 mained upon his body, might be removed. "Pooh !" says Roux, 
 and spitting upon the man's person, wiped them both off with a 
 piece of dirty cloth. Such an action was too much even for the 
 broken-down spirit of this enfeebled sufferer. Though prostrated 
 by the union of poverty and sickness, though a menial all his life, 
 this indignity and profanation of his person, notwithstanding it 
 was committed by the foremost surgeon of the city of Paris, 
 touched him to the quick. His languid eye flashed with anger, 
 and his cheek, pale with the loss of blood, on a sudden glowed 
 with the bright hue of passion. And he did not feel alone. The 
 outrage was observ^ed by many who stood around, and the wan- 
 ton violation of the feelings of a fellow-man, sunk deep into their 
 hearts. 
 
 There is only one polite person, accurately speaking, in Paris. 
 It is he, who is selling you some article. In order to extract a 
 sous from you, he will bow and cringe, till you have given him 
 the coveted trifle in pity for his meanness. 
 
 How money does evaporate in Paris ! In America, one thus 
 soliloquizes : " I will go to Paris. Deducting travelling expenses, 
 I may see the world, and luxuriate for the same money, and pro- 
 bably less, than would be necessary for me to vegetate upon at 
 home." He arrives, and is not long in discovering the profundity 
 of his financial calculations. He pursues his inquiries under pecu- 
 liar advantages for information. He dives, of course, to the very 
 bottom of the subject, and the only unpleasant circumstance is, 
 that he has got to the bottom of his purse at the very same time. 
 
 Tlie shorter the period during which a person may remain here, 
 the greater will be his expenses comparatively. To be sure, there 
 are those, who live in this metropolis, on nothing almost. This is 
 accomplished by remaining shut up, as it were imprisoned in 
 
74 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 their rooms. They do not visit pubhc buildings, because there is 
 a gratuity to be given the guide. They go not to the Opera 
 House, or Theatre, for they make calls too on the pocket. Such 
 persons, in short, see very little, if any more of Paris, than if they 
 had never crossed the water. Whence then come the advanta- 
 ges, or even the pleasures of travel ? The matter of mere living 
 here in a barely decent manner is expensive. A room can, in- 
 deed, be hired for three or four dollars per month, but it will be 
 in the sixth or seventh story of the dirtiest house in the filthiest 
 quarter of the city — a miniature Augean stable. His bed-linen 
 would be changed once in two or three months. His chamber 
 swept once in four weeks. His neighbors, the halayeuses and 
 chiffoniers. He can put something into his stomach, called bread, 
 with butter of a quahty inferior to stearine candles, and a bowl 
 of chicory boiled in water, and call it breakfast. Ragouts of 
 cat's flesh, and beef-steaks of horse, cannot be extravagant. But 
 if one really wishes to see Paris, and at the same time live re- 
 spectably, he must expect, for he will be obliged, to pay for it. 
 Comfortably, I do not say, for the thing and the word are alike 
 unknown. One will look in vain for the comforts, to which he 
 has been accustomed in America. A room, decently furnished, 
 and " well up," too, will cost from six to ten dollars a month ; 
 not including porter's fee neither, nor a trifle for the domestics, 
 &c. &c. which will swell the sum to one or two dollars niore. 
 This, though not demanded, is not the less expected. His break- 
 fast at the cafe, consisting of a cup of cofiee, a roll, and piece of 
 butter, will cost a franc, (twenty cents,) a day. If he luxuriously 
 demands an omelette, — and they are really very nice, — the conse- 
 quences to his purse are frightful. A friend told me, that for a 
 long time after his arrival the only way he knew it was Sunday, 
 was, that he ate an omelette de fins herhes on that day. A dinner 
 at a table d'hote costs about three francs. At a restaurant one 
 never knows, till a large bill is presented. Taking counsel of his 
 feelings, he cannot persuade himself that he has eaten much, but 
 the formidable carte, with the prices annexed, reveals the undoubt- 
 ed fact. Frenchmen never have the dyspepsia ; their food is not 
 sufficiently solid. Living in this manner, merely respectably, and 
 
EXPENSES OF DRESS, &c. 75 
 
 allowing nothing for what is necessarily spent in sight-seeing and 
 amusements, such as the operas, theatres, concerts, public balls, 
 or for books, accompanied with every effort at economy, some six 
 hundred dollars a year will be unavoidably expended. 
 
 Clothing, though not dear, costs as much as in many parts of 
 the United States. A comfortable black dress coat costs twenty 
 dollars ; pantaloons, seven to eight dollars ; vests, from three to 
 eight dollars ; according to the material and labor bestowed upon 
 it. Gentlemen's white gloves are sixty cents the pair ; colored 
 sixty-five cents, and the number which a gentleman is obliged to 
 wear, makes it a serious item indeed. I know an American resi- 
 dent, an economical man withal, but from necessity, frequenting a 
 great deal of company, whose gloves alone cost him one hundred 
 and twenty-five dollars a year. Gloves, hack hire, and the per- 
 quisite of the concierge, when one is out after twelve o'clock at 
 night, make the indispensable expenses, attendant on every party, 
 from two to three dollars. Books, mementoes for friends, will 
 inflame the aggregate to any desired extent. In addition to this, 
 if a young fellow is inflated with the very common, but ridiculous 
 vanity, of procuring his coats and hats, and boots, of a man who 
 has arisen to pre-eminence in the manufacture of them, he must, 
 of course, pay tribute to that reputation. If he can derive a 
 pleasure from the silly boast, that a particular article in his 
 possession was purchased in the Palais Royal, he must con- 
 tribute his proportion of the enormous shop-rent ; and ten dollars 
 are thus suddenly augmented to thirteen, in the easiest way 
 imaginable. 
 
 This particularity may be out of place in a communication of 
 this sort ; but knowing the erroneous views entertained by the 
 American public on the cheapness of Paris life, and the difficulty 
 of obtaining accurate data upon this point, I have adopted the 
 most thorough and expeditious mode of giving that information, 
 which, previous to coming hither, I sought for in vain myself. 
 Figures never deceive. 
 
 If one is desirous of going into society as much as possible, let 
 him remember, that the banker Green invites those, who have 
 
76 
 
 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 money in his hands, to dinner or to balls, a certain number of 
 times in exact proportion to the amount of the deposite ; while 
 Hottingeur & Co. content themselves with being polite — in their 
 counting-room. 
 
 This letter is decidedly French. At the beginning" of it, po- 
 liteness is the only thing that you observe ; but after all, there is 
 nothing at the bottom but a calculaticMi about dollars and cents. 
 
XIV. 
 
 Medical Officers in French Hospitals — In American Hospitals — 
 Reason of the Difference in their Characters — System of Con- 
 cours — Sketch of Velpeau's Life and Person. 
 
 On a very cursory examination of the Parisian hospitals, it is 
 immediately apparent, that the medical officers attached to them, 
 are, almost without exception, men of eminence in their profes- 
 sion. The reason of this striking fact, and also of another still 
 more interesting to the United States, namely, that surgeons and 
 physicians of the latter country have not, in proportion to the 
 magnitude of their labors and responsibility, a similar standing 
 in the fields of science, becomes a question for grave investiga- 
 tion. If the scientific character of the medical corps of the 
 numerous governmental and charitable hospitals in the Union be 
 carefully considered, we shall discover many a surgeon possess- 
 ing a trembling hand, or an uncertain eye, which renders him 
 unfit to operate successfully ; and some unfortunately with such 
 a density of intellect, as to make his judgment worse than use- 
 less, because it is employed at the expense of his patients. Phy- 
 sicians, too, will be detected, whose diagnosis, prognosis, and 
 treatment of diseases, are the laughing-stock of all who know 
 them. Such are the facts. The cause of this great contrast is 
 not a matter of difficult solution. 
 
 A large proportion of the hospital medical officers of the 
 United States are indebted for their situations to rich relations, 
 or powerful friends, and not to their genius. Some of them have 
 failed to obtain practice from their ignorance, or rough and brutal 
 manners ; while others possess qualifications not usually enume- 
 rated in a medical diploma. I wish that I was not obliged to 
 say, that their professional brethren sometimes lend their chari- 
 5* 77 
 
78 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 table, but questionable aid to their advancement, from an esprit de 
 corps, and because they are reluctant to see them dragging on a 
 life of poverty, or descending to charlatanry for a livelihood. 
 Thus the man, whom nobody will employ of his own accord, is 
 pronounced to be *' plenty good enough " for the inhabitants of 
 a hospital, whose poverty is the crime for which they have been 
 sentenced to be thus treated within its walls. 
 
 A far better system prevails in France, where situations of this 
 description are open to the struggles of all. The Concours, 
 derived from the verb concourir, signifying to run together, to 
 compete, makes talent, not influence, the necessary requisite for 
 promotion. Every medical office in France, whether military or 
 civil, is thus obtainable by merit. This system extends from the 
 dressers and students in pharmacy up to the professors and high- 
 est offices ; the qualifications of course increasing with the im- 
 portance of the place contested. The biography of the cele- 
 brated Velpeau, surgeon-in-chief to the hospital La Charite, is 
 an instance, among many others, of its beneficial effects. 
 
 This man, whose name has been wafted by fame into every 
 quarter of the world, was born fifty years ago, about twenty-five 
 miles from the town of Tours, in France. His honest, unambitious 
 parents, destined their son to follow the trade of a blacksmith, 
 the occupation of his father. By some accident his father, 
 though illiterate, possessed all the books of the village, which 
 happened to be, a Treatise of Hippocrates, The Country Mason, and 
 The Poor FoWs Doctor. Having learnt these works by heart, 
 Velpeau — the son — was frequently called upon to treat the sick in 
 the neighborhood ; some trifling success having given him a re- 
 putation. Having prescribed to a patient one day, accidentally 
 however, a large dose of a very powerful medicine, the effects 
 became alarming, and a scientific physician was immediately 
 called. Terrified at the result of his practice, our young Escula- 
 pius was shaking in a corner with fear. "What has the patient 
 taken ?" shouts the Doctor. Stammering and hesitating, Velpeau 
 explains his disease, the remedy given, and the effect. Some 
 trifling medicine reheves the dangerous symptoms, and the phy- 
 sician turns from the patient to the youthful leech. He is as- 
 
SKETCH OF M. VELPEAU. 79 
 
 tonished to see so much wisdom in such dirty clothes. The pea- 
 santry of France rarely show a knowledge of anything beyond 
 their sphere, and such erudition pleased and astonished him. In 
 this way learning the history of Velpeau, he became interested 
 in him, and encouraged him to a regular course of study. His 
 highest ambition being to attain the distinction, in his view, of 
 Ojfficier de Santi, a species of medical poUce foimd throughout 
 France. He soon left for Tours. In so limited a sketch as this 
 must be, I cannot follow him through the constant toil in the pro- 
 vincial hospitals, supported by a scanty supply of coarse bread 
 and cheese sent him by his mother, and encouraged to persevere 
 by the praises of his instructors. Time, however, at length brought 
 him to Paris ; and in a public Concour he gained the situation of 
 interney or house-physician, of the hospital St. Louis. Here he 
 was at least exempted from the necessity of sleeping in a gari-et, 
 and the poor room allotted to the interne was luxurious in com- 
 parison to those to which he had been accustomed. He obtained 
 a small sum of money by giving lectures to younger students. 
 In 1823 he took his degree. In 1828 he was chosen Surgeon of 
 the Bureau Central, without a dissenting vote, and immediately 
 appointed Surgeon-in-chief ad interim to the hospital St. Antoine. 
 It was while here, that he began to publish his opinions, 
 which have ever since been so eagerly sought for, and profoundly 
 respected by the medical public. From this he was soon trans- 
 ferred to the hospital La Pitie, where he recommenced his 
 lectures. His last promotion brought him to La Charite. Here 
 many would have been contented to remain, but his ambition 
 was not satisfied with a second place. A professorship merely 
 intervened between him and the consummation of all his hopes 
 and labors. The acquisition of this would elevate him to the top 
 of the ladder, the highest rank of medical honor. He was un- 
 successful in his concour for the Chair of External Pathology, 
 and also for the professorship of Physiology. Still undaimted, 
 in 1830, he contested again the Obstetrical chair. This also he 
 lost. His last eflfort was for the Chair of Clinical Surgery against 
 the celebrated Lisfranc, Panson, the elder — and Blandin. In this 
 attempt with such distinguished rivals, he bore away the palm 
 
80 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 The death of Roux, now quite advanced, will undoubtedly be the 
 signal of his removal to the Hotel-Dieu, and then the blacksmith's 
 son will stand on the loftiest pinnacle of his profession. 
 
 Velpeau is principally known in America by his Midwifery^ 
 which has been translated by Dr, Meigs of Philadelphia. His 
 great work on Surgery, published here in four volumes, with an 
 atlas of plates, has been very recently translated, as I observe by 
 a New York paper, by Dr. Townsend, with an appendix, con- 
 taining the valuable opinions and experience of Dr. Mott. The 
 chef-d'oeuvre of the first European surgeon, with notes by the 
 highest surgical authority in America, cannot fail to find numer- 
 ous readers, and no less numerous admirers. 
 
 It would be foolish to attempt the enumeration of works, of 
 which he is the acknowledged author. They are more volumi- 
 nous than those of any other w;riter in the profession, and amount 
 to some thirty thousand pages. The difficulty is to comprehend, 
 how he could possibly find time to execute such a Herculean 
 task. So wonderful a fertility, if not unparalleled in the walks 
 of literature and science, can only be the result of great talents, 
 perseverance, and ambition. 
 
 Velpeau is rather above the medium height, stoutly built, of 
 erect carriage, and stiff demeanor. His head is bald upon the 
 summit, but about the ears his once black hair bristles in every 
 direction. Not the least vestige of hair is discernible upon his 
 oval face, save his eye-lashes and brows, which are long and 
 shaggy. From his hatred to whiskers and mustaches, one would 
 infer that he is in favor of the Razorian system. But it is his 
 sharp grey eyes that give a character to his face. His dress is 
 peculiar, inasmuch as he wears on all occasions a white cravat, 
 so high and stiff, that his unremitting inflexibility of manner may 
 be almost accounted for from the restraint which it occasions 
 him. Indeed he scarcely ever turns his head, without carrying 
 his whole body with it at the same time. He is not a man of 
 social habits, and is accustomed to give to strangers such a cool 
 reception, that, like me, they generally keep their introductions 
 to him, though coming from men of eminence, snug in their 
 trunks. At his cliiiiques, he is attended by probably the largest 
 
ADVOCACY OF THE CONCOURS. 81 
 
 number of students of any lecturer in Paris ; and mainly, be- 
 cause of the pains he takes to explain everything in the most 
 distinct and clear manner. As an operator, his hand is steady, 
 his eye good, his judgment excellent, and undismayed by appear- 
 ances of danger. He is, however, slow, and his operations some- 
 times apparently prolonged without necessity. This hasty 
 description of this truly great man will close my letter. A 
 subsequent one may, perhaps, embody further particulars in his 
 life, which may serve to point out some of the evils attendant on 
 the system of Concours. 
 
 Note. — While reading these letters for the press, and again 
 reflecting on the excellence of this system of Concours, the feas- 
 ibility of its introduction into this city, is, just now, particularly 
 evident. The Common Council are re-modelling the medical 
 department of the Alms House, and appointing to its care some 
 twenty or thirty physicians. Every medical man in the city 
 would gladly accept the situations without emolument in any 
 way, save that obtained incidentally from the reputation his sub- 
 sequent services may acquire. 
 
 Twenty physicians at one appointment ! — and all to personal 
 friends or party politicians ! Not one to him who, in a Concour, 
 a strife for the mastery, shows himself to be really the first man 
 in the particular department of the profession to which he is 
 elected ! No ! His appointment is no such honorable testimo- 
 nial of skill. It is rather by agreement among the Aldermen, 
 that each should have the privilege of appointing his man, mak- 
 ing no objection to the appointments of another. Is this an honest 
 method of action ? Perhaps so — for no one is so silly as to 
 suppose, that a surgeon to this or that institution, must, from his 
 situation, have extraordinary abilities. 
 
 What glorious rewards might this city offer to the man of real 
 talent ! Open wide the doors of the Poor House, City, Lunatic, 
 Lying-in Hospitals, the Physicianships to the City, Tombs, Dis- 
 pensaries, Colored Home, Eye and Ear Infirmary, Asylums for 
 Blind, and others, to the most talented — proved so in a public 
 
82 
 
 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 display, before competent and unbiassed judges — and then, but 
 not till then, will the name of a Hospital or Dispensary physician 
 be elevated to the rank it should hold. Not till this is done, will 
 the houseless and homeless be properly attended when sick, or 
 the city justly acquire the name of a city of charity and benevo- 
 lence. 
 
XV. 
 
 The Grisette — Lorette — Fille Publique — Hospital Lourcine—Mons. 
 HuGiER — Hospital du Midl — Ricord — Disgusting Effects of Cer- 
 tain Diseases — American Students. 
 
 I HAVE promised, I believe, to give you the translation of a 
 word, of which all Americans have heard, but few know the 
 definition of — I mean, Grisette. To do this adequately, requires 
 a long and deliberate view of the entire French people ; more 
 particularly, however, of the Parisians, to a portion of whom, 
 rather than to the inhabitants of France in general, this appella- 
 tion more appropriately applies. The Parisians, as a general 
 custom, do not marry young ; and when they do assume the 
 matrimonial relation, it is seldom from affection, or any feehng 
 akin to that emotion expressed by the obsolete word, love — but 
 for money. Much has been said about the influence of the 
 " almighty dollar," in America ; still, it cannot be affirmed, that 
 it has yet been often placed in the scale, and made to weigh 
 against a wife. Since money is a requisite for matrimony; it is 
 evident, that the poor must be unable to marry. But Nature 
 forbids a life of cehbacy. 
 
 Existence, however, cannot be supported by love alone ; and 
 though governments pro^vide hospitals for the sick, they do not 
 furnish food and raiment for the well, however young and pretty. 
 It is indispensable, then, that girls should work for a subsistence. 
 I am almost afraid to mention what they do, lest those whose 
 conscientious scruples will not permit them to eat the sugar made 
 by slaves, should also be prevented from wearing the lace, flow- 
 ers, worked collars and handkerchiefs, wrought by the grisettes. 
 By rising with the dawn, and working till nine or ten o'clock at 
 night with constant application, they can earn in general, not 
 
 83 
 
84 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 more than a franc, or twenty cents, a day. Rarely, when very 
 active and particularly skilful, can they swell the sum to thirty 
 cents per day. Even in the economical and meagre style in 
 which they live, it costs them eighteen cents a day for nourish- 
 ment. The two remaining sous will not easily discharge their 
 room rent of four dollars, or thereabouts, per month, with not a 
 bit of furniture, nothing but the bare walls ; their washing bill ; 
 the demand for clothes, and other pressing items of expense. 
 More than this, Sunday is a fete day, and they do not wish to 
 labor, while others are revelling in enjoyments. But how, then, 
 can they live? Whence will come their Sunday's dinner ? Ah ! 
 it is infinitely more agreeable to be promenading in the Luxem- 
 bourg gardens ; visiting its galleries of paintings and statuary, or 
 the splendid collection in the Lou\Te ; and, in the evening, seek- 
 ing pleasure at the Chaumiere or Prado ball, or at the Vaude- 
 ville theatre, with a silk dress, a jaunty hat, and graceful fea- 
 ther ; above all, with un joli gar^on. But this costs money. 
 Who pays it ? It is thatyoZ^ gargon aforesaid. It is he who pays 
 her room rent and toilet, takes her to the balls, treats her to 
 Veau-de-vie, or absinthe, escorts her to see the paintings, and 
 enables her to indulgre in the whole circle of amusements. 
 
 Soon, however, this humble-bee of a joli gargon is tired of his 
 pretty flower. From affected jealousy, or some other thin pre- 
 tence, he seeks a quarrel with her, and they part, after months 
 and perhaps years, of acquaintance. If the quarrel is not very 
 bitter, he furnishes her a substitute, but on the neglect of this 
 attention, she frequents the balls the same as ever ; yet, as she 
 goes alone, her widowhood is readily known, and she says to her 
 friends, Maintenant je suis libre, je cherche un arnant four paijer 
 mon loyer. She takes the first she finds ; for she says, " He is 
 not pretty, but — he is amiable ; and — I want some one to pay 
 my rent." He is more particular, for the market is fully sup- 
 phed. 
 
 A higher class of Parisian citizens is the Lorettes. They de- 
 rive this appellation, strange to say, from the fact, that many of 
 them live near the beautiful church called Notre Dame de Lo- 
 rette. They are another species of the genus before-mentioned, 
 
HOSPITAL LOURCINE.— M. HUGIER. 85 
 
 differing from them in one important particular, — they do not 
 work at all ; their expenses being paid entirely by their lovers. 
 Like all the other classes of the great community, they have their 
 pride. To the humbler grisette they do not deign to speak a 
 word. On bright days, they may be seen, in great numbers, 
 promenading in the streets, or if their entreteneur is rich enough, 
 riding in the Champs Elysees, preceded by duchesses, and fol- 
 lowed by countesses, without a perceptible difference from them 
 either in manners or appearance. « 
 
 The offspring of these classes is the Jille puhlique, or the com- 
 mon woman of the town. The glare of day is unpropitious to 
 this unhappy race ; but as the shades of night descend, every 
 step discovers some of the sixty thousand women of this descrip- 
 tion, that throng the city. The delineation of Solomon was not 
 incorrect : " They stand at the corners of the street, and cry after 
 the passers by." ** The wages of sin " — forty cents — " will not 
 deter many," These women, in the same manner as the hacks 
 and porters in New- York, are regularly numbered and registered. 
 They are compelled to present themselves weekly before certain 
 physicians, who are paid by the government to watch for the 
 preservation of the public health. When sick, they are sent to 
 the hospital Lourcine, specially appropriated to such of them as 
 are affected with syphilitic disease. 
 
 This hospital is closed to the public and to students. As a 
 matter of particular favor I have been allowed not only to see, 
 but to attend it frequently, following the visits of its different 
 physicians and surgeons. Mons. Hugier is the chief surgeon, and 
 through his influence, I have been enabled to enter and enjoy the 
 privilege of seeing his practice, and that of the other physicians 
 attached to it. A letter of this kind is not the place for a parti- 
 cular description. Were the public mind, as I have intimated in 
 a previous letter, divested of much of its affected modesty, and, 
 instead of being diverted from the cause and effects of this dis- 
 ease, were instructed to give the subject that attention it desei-ves, 
 the three hundred beds of this hospital would be far too nume- 
 rous, instead of being, as now, much too circumscribed for the 
 wants of the community. 
 
86 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 Friends of humanity ! turn not away your eyes, sickened at the 
 sight of lovely women, transformed into hideous creatures ; of 
 smiling children, whose beautiful faces do not reveal the plague- 
 spot, which has corrupted every organ ; of infants, who have 
 prematurely entered the world, covered with disease, which they 
 have innocently contracted, but whom fortunately death will 
 shortly remove from suffering. Is it impossible, that a similar 
 disease, existing at the era of our blessed Saviour, might have 
 prompted the question which was asked him, " Has this man 
 sinned, or his parents, that he was bom blind ?" Although the 
 first mention of this disorder was in the fifteenth century, it is 
 by no means improbable, that a similar one then existed. 
 
 Near this is the Hospital du Midi, or the Venereal Hospital for 
 males. This contains four hundred and fifty beds, always full, 
 and is celebrated for being the dirtiest hospital in Paris. This is 
 attributed to the absence of those real " angels of mercy," the 
 Sisters of Charity, who so unweariedly in the other hospitals 
 watch with the sick and dying. The principal surgeon is the 
 eminent Ricord. This gentleman, at the head of this hospital, 
 is an American, having been born in Baltimore in 1800. He has 
 resided twenty years in this country, and is the author of several 
 works of the highest authority in their peculiar branches. In 
 1838 he received the order of Chevalier of the Legion of Honor. 
 As a writer — in French — he is not distinguished so much for the 
 beauty of his expression, as for his clearness, a far more import- 
 ant quality in a scientific work. His lectures are frequented by 
 a numerous class, notwithstanding the distance of his hospital, 
 which is situated at the very extremity of the city. I have often 
 attended his visits and lectures, not only for the information to 
 be derived from them, but to see a person of talent without os- 
 tentation ; one at the same time a man of science and a gentle- 
 man, qualifications rarely blended in a !Paris physician. On my 
 first visit, on learning that I was an American, he received me 
 most cordially, and when I expressed the use I had made of his 
 work, desired me, if I wished any explanation, to come to his 
 house, and he would endeavor to throw light on any part, which 
 I did not understand. His politeness is not merely a little elo- 
 
AMERICAN STUDENTS. 87 
 
 quent breath. His ever smiling, though far from handsome face, 
 portrays the goodness of his heart. He has a French exterior on 
 an American basis. The latter develops itself in a kind of go-a- 
 headitiveness, which never allows him to stand idle a moment. 
 He regards his patients, makes his remarks upon the case, pre- 
 scribes, and proceeds to the next with wonderful rapidity. Fast 
 as he walks, however, the motion of his tongue is far the quick- 
 est. I never heard the tongue of a Frenchman run so glibly. 
 As a private practitioner, his house is beset with patients. A 
 hundred and more are often assembled at a time waiting for their 
 turn. These are principally confined to the disease which has 
 been the subject of his study for many years. 
 
 To visit these hospitals, so far from the centre of the city, es- 
 pecially the Lourcine, one must rise at six o'clock in the morning. 
 Think of that, " ye who sleep on beds of ease." The hfe of an 
 American student in this metropolis is truly fatiguing. He rises 
 early in the morning for his hospital visit. When that is over, 
 he pursues the lions of the town, as the hunter chases the buffalo 
 on the western prairie. The resemblance fails, when evening 
 comes, for it brings no rest to the student. He must spend his 
 nights at theatres or operas, at public or private balls. Some 
 space also must be found to empty his overloaded cranium of the 
 accumulations of his observation, or the consequences might be 
 serious. And this perhaps is the most agreeable occupation 
 of ail, and somewhat contributes to reconcile him to those enor- 
 mous encroachments on his time, that leave him scarcely more 
 than two or three hours for necessary sleep, which but imper- 
 fectly refreshes the body, jaded by so much exercise, and destin- 
 ed to re-commence each day the same fatiguing routine. 
 
 The good New England farmer once every week winds up his 
 family clock. My hebdomadal to you has a similar effect on me, 
 beside periodically suggesting to my mind the images of you and 
 my country. These insist on mingling with my daily thoughts, 
 however, on a variety of occasions, without the least invitation or 
 prompting, and have taken upon themselves to be especially busy 
 and familiar in the night-work of the soul. 
 
XVI. 
 
 GoBELiK Manufactory of Tapestry and Carpets — Insane Hospitai. 
 " La Salpetriere," for Aged and Poor Women. 
 
 A PART of yesterday was devoted to seeing some of the inex- 
 haustible wonders of this city. In the company of several 
 friends, I went to the famous Gobelin Manufactory. This estab- 
 lishment is under the direction of the Government, and, among 
 all the curiosities which the city affords, may with propriety be 
 pronounced unique. Its object is the weaving of carpets and 
 tapestry. Although the descriptions which I had read, prepared 
 me to witness something grand, yet my most extravagant antici- 
 pations were far surpassed by the magnificence of the manufac- 
 tures. The edifices are situated at the very extremity of the 
 city, and the low poor houses of the Rue Mouffetard, the most 
 filthy and dangerous of all the streets of Paris, prepare one well 
 to enjoy the contrast. The external, and even interior appear- 
 ance of the buildings is not at all attractive. They consist of 
 about half a dozen small houses, some of which are united by 
 bridges. 
 
 On entering the first one, immediately on the left, to which 
 we were directed, we noticed on each side of the walls, hung in 
 massive gilded frames, what appeared to be paintings of the 
 highest order. Thinking it very strange to see articles of this 
 kind in a carpet manufactory, I was induced to examine them 
 more closely, and discovered to my astonishment, that they were 
 specimens of the tapestry here made. Among them were three 
 full-length portraits of Louis Phihppe, which would be recognized 
 at once without the smallest difficulty. They are copies of por- 
 traits executed at different periods of his life, and in various uni- 
 
 88 
 
MANUFACTORY OF TAPESTRY, &c. 89 
 
 forms. Another represents the present Queen holding by the 
 hand the young Count of Paris. 
 
 Others are copies of paintings of Hving artists, whose works 
 are now displayed in the gallery of the palace of Luxembourg. 
 Among them is the celebrated picture of the Destruction of the 
 Janizaries by Horace Vernet, which, for beauty of coloring and 
 nicety of the shade, challenges comparison with the original of 
 this chef-d'oeuvre of the talented artist. Should those young la- 
 dies of my own land, who work sentimental slippers for their 
 dear friends, and strangely delight to see their affectionate gifts 
 trodden under foot, view these specimens of skilful handiwork, I 
 fear that they would scarcely be satisfied in future with the 
 physiognomies, which make up faces at us on their music stools 
 and tabourets. An eye in a Gobelin production is not a black or 
 colored blot with a white streak in it, placed somewhere upon 
 something of a brick color, meant for a face. Nor is it an accu- 
 rate representation merely, but it speaks and flashes, and the be- 
 holder feels the fire of the soul that animates the figure. The 
 largest of these, the Destruction of the Janizaries, is about twenty 
 feet by fifteen, perhaps larger. 
 
 Leaving this room, we proceeded through numerous small 
 apartments, in each of which are pieces of tapestry in various 
 stages of progression. Beautiful landscapes, bunches of grapes, 
 peaches, and all kinds of flowers and fruit, are growing under the 
 hand of the workman. One particularly struck my attention. 
 It was a porcelain dish of various fruits, placed upon the corner 
 of a table of variegated marble. By its side lay a handkerchief 
 with a lace border. So finely was the worsted wrought, that the 
 figures in the dish, the stains in the marble, and even the dehcate 
 " work," and each thread of the lace, were distinctly visible. 
 The work is called the hiute lisse from the warp being vertical. 
 The workman stands at the back of the canvas, on which he is 
 employed, with the model behind him, to which he occasionally 
 refers, in order to adjust the color of his woolen or silken thread 
 to that part of the picture he is copying. The object being to 
 present as smooth and dehcate a surface as possible, all cuttings 
 and fastenings are performed on the back, which explams the 
 6 
 
9d OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES, 
 
 necessity of his operating on the wrong side. A period from two 
 to six years is requisite for the completion of each piece ; and the 
 cost often amomits to thirty-five hundred dollars. But even at 
 this rate, the workmen are very meagerly paid ; the best of them 
 receiving but three hundred and sixty dollars per year. 
 
 This estabhshment employs about one hundred and thirty ope- 
 rators. None of their productions are sold, being distributed 
 among the various royal palaces, or given away as presents by 
 the king. The wools are dyed in an establishment connected 
 with this ; and numerous shades, unknown to commerce, are here 
 produced. Jean Gobelin, in 1450, commenced this manufacture, 
 which was continued by his descendants, till purchased by Louis 
 XIV. in 1662. During his reign, under the administration of 
 Colbert, Alexander's battles, the four seasons, the four elements, 
 and the history of the principal acts of Lous XIV. from his mar- 
 riage to his conquest of Franche Compte, were wrought at the 
 Grobehns from the design of Le Brun. Louvois caused tapestries 
 to be made during his administrations, after the most beautiful 
 originals in the king's cabinet, of Raphael, Julio Romano, and 
 other famous painters in the schools of Italy, which were first 
 drawn in large dimsenions by the most able French painters, 
 such as La Fosse, the two Coypels, Jouvenet, Person, <fec. 
 
 To the tapestry manufacture, one of carpets has been attached, 
 which was made a royal estabhshment in 1604, by Marie de Medi- 
 cis. Like the former, the carpets are suspended perpendicularly, 
 with this difference, the workman is here placed on the right side. 
 The carpet is of the kind called Persian, ha\'ing a long plush, but 
 for evenness of surface, fineness and strength, they are said to be 
 superior. These magnificent productions, some of which cost 
 thirty thousand dollars, are, like the tapestries, never sold. The 
 largest ever made was for the Louvre, in seventy-two pieces, and 
 was thirteen hundred feet in length. Nothing can exceed their 
 gorgeousness of color, and the surpassing beauty of the figures. 
 
 From the Gobelins we went to the hospital devoted to the 
 aored and poor women, and the female lunatics of Paris. It is 
 one of the most immense of the establishments of the city. The 
 distance around its walls exceeds three miles. Within the en- 
 
INSANE HOSPITAL. 9X 
 
 closure are contained the numerous buildings, which formerly 
 were used in the manufacture of saltpetre ; whence it derived its 
 name in common use La Salpetriere. The population of the 
 place is now about seven thousand ; but it has comprehended in 
 by-gone years, nearly ten thousand souls. A large church is 
 most worthy of notice among buildings possessing little that is 
 remarkable, except their enormous size. It is built in the form 
 of a star, four angles of which compose as many chapels, which 
 look particularly light and cheerful, when contrasted with the 
 sombre appearance of other churches and cathedrals. Of the 
 inhabitants at present, fifteen hundred are composed of lunatics, 
 idiots and epileptics. These are the materials used by Esquirol, 
 in the formation of his distinguished treatise on the insane. With 
 such opportunies for observation, it is not astonishing, that so tal- 
 ented an individual should have accomplished such valuable re- 
 sults. His successors are indebted for distinction more for their 
 occupancy of his place, than any contributions they have made 
 to science. The multitude of patients allows their classification 
 according to their degree of lunacy, thereby contributing exceed- 
 ingly to their happiness and probability of cure. This is in a 
 great degree impracticable in the United States, from the limited 
 number collected in one place ; which is very much to be regret- 
 ed, since it is well known, by all who have had the care of this 
 unfortunate class of patients, that one noisy and turbulent indi- 
 vidual is almost certain to excite all within the sound of his voice. 
 The most violent are disposed of, in a place far away from all the 
 others. Within the exterior walls, ai'e some twenty small brick 
 houses, each having one, perhaps two apartments, containing 
 a bed. These houses are about thirty feet from one another. 
 Warmth is communicated by means of a stove placed in the 
 walls ; the fire being kindled from without. One of these struc- 
 tures is appropriated for an intendant, who has the charge of the 
 patients placed here. In this manner the noisy and quarrelsome 
 are prevented from exerting a detrimental influence on those 
 around them. 
 
 This method has been adopted in many of the Insane Hospitals 
 of the United States, in a modified degree. One edifice in par- 
 
92 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 ticular, at the city pauper establishment at Boston, has recently 
 been erected, which however, I fear, will but partially effect its 
 object, since it is to contain a half dozen patients, or more, who 
 will mutually excite each other ; while from its contiguity to the 
 main building, the noise can be easily heard, especially in summer, 
 notwithstanding its arched walls are expected to entirely muffle 
 the sound. The absence of the iron-grating, universally seen on 
 the windows of similar institutions in America, and the unlocked 
 doors, permitting the patients to go out at will, into the inclosure, 
 whose lofty walls forbid escape, comprise the most striking pecuH- 
 arities. Each of the separate divisions is supplied with a garden, 
 courtyard and work-room, and in fact is a complete establishment 
 in itself, totally unconnected with the others. Here are spots 
 of land belonging to the patients, which, though neglected at 
 this season, bear marks of order and attention. They were col- 
 lected at our visit in the work-rooms, some of the old being en- 
 gaged in spinning flax, knitting, &c. The making of clothing 
 seemed the principal employment. In one I noticed a piano. 
 The bed-rooms, arranged for twenty beds or more, were perfectly 
 neat, the floors nicely waxed, and the hnen white and clean. I 
 wish some of our Yankee girls would learn to make a bed of the 
 French. The sheets are always smooth, and everything disposed 
 so comfortably, that one really likes to go to bed, which, with 
 your good leave, I will now take the liberty of doing, being very 
 much fatigued in recalling some of the incidents of the day's 
 perambulations. As the perusal of this letter will no doubt have 
 a lulling influence on yourself, another reason is added for my 
 retiring, and giving you an opportunity to enjoy your couch, 
 which, I am persuaded, is an exception from the foregoing insin- 
 uation. 
 
XVII. 
 
 Superstition — Holy Relics — Michelet — Feucien David — His Con- 
 cert — Fete of Long Champs — Gen. Tom Pouce — Time and Place 
 
 FOR MAKING FASHIONS CONSERVATOIRE RoYAL DE MuSIQUE ItS 
 
 Concert — Madame Dorus-Gras. 
 
 Superstition has not yet been banished from the civilized 
 world. The high and noble of the land unite with men of intel- 
 lect in venerating what more properly belongs to an age of bar- 
 barism. They still continue to fall down and worship before 
 blocks of wood and stone. This very day I noticed in the jour- 
 nals an account of a mandate of the archbishop of Paris, giving 
 information, that on Sunday next, there will be exhibited in the 
 church of Notre- Dame, some of the most valuable and sainted 
 relics that now exist. They are enumerated substantially as fol- 
 lows, according to the best of my recollection. The sainted 
 crown of thorns, which was placed on the most holy head of our 
 divine Saviour. A sainted nail, from the cross of our divine Sa- 
 viour. The sainted reed, which was placed in the hands of our 
 divine Saviour. Some of the most holy blood of our ever-vene- 
 rated Saviour. Some of the holy milk of the divine Virgin Mary. 
 These remains are all guarantied to be genuine, and represented 
 to have performed at least one miracle by their divine power, 
 namely, that of saving themselves from the destruction, which 
 overwhelmed most objects of a similar character during the Rev- 
 olution. Mons. Michelet, who loses no opportunity to have a hit 
 at the absurdities of the Catholic religion, will doubtless expatiate 
 upon them. Why are not " The Jesuits," and a still later work 
 of his, " The Priest, The Wife, and The Family," translated and 
 published in the United States ? I imagine them to be exactly 
 
 93 
 
94 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 the works to sell. They certainly overflow with genius. This, 
 the excitement, which they cause among the " behevers," suffi- 
 ciently attests. 
 
 0, poor Americans, condemned to stay at home, far from the 
 land, where everything is collected, which can disgust or please ! 
 Wonderful city ! comprising within its bosom whatever can gorge 
 the coarsest taste, or delight the most refined. I am not of that 
 class, who believe, with our friend Othello, that 
 
 " He that is robb'd, not wanting what is stolen, 
 Let him not know 't, and he's not robb'd at all." 
 
 On the contrary, it is, in my opinion, a real substantial loss not to 
 hear, whatever the circumstances may be, the delightful music 
 with which this city abounds. In truth, I begin to feel a new 
 liking for Paris, since I listened to the exquisitely fine Concert 
 given this morning at the Italian Opera House. It was the mu- 
 sic of a new composer, Felicien David. These compositions have 
 been perforified but two or three times this winter. At first, their 
 novel character took the public by surprise. None knew how to 
 judge them. The rules by which the inspirations of Euterpe are 
 ordinarily tested, were here at fault, for these were of a difl"erent 
 order. While the critics stood aloof in meditation, the multitude 
 passed sentence, and applauded. Of course, the leaders quickly 
 followed ; and nothing is now heard but loud and universal praise. 
 The name of David seems destined to be almost as renowned as 
 that of his royal namesake of Israel, who sang and played upon 
 the harp so well, and danced, too, with all his might, though 
 whether with much grace or not, admits a serious question. 
 However- that may be, the modern David has inscribed his name 
 upon the roll of fame with those of Weber and Beethoven. 
 
 Every ticket was sold for this his last Concert. The first part 
 consisted of a symphony. Allegro, Andante, and Scherzo. The 
 last movement of the Scherzo was received with loud plaudits. 
 The second, La Danse des Astres — a chorus, with solo. Les Hi- 
 rondelles was beautifully sung by Mons. Dupont. This sweet 
 song, which is marked with the peculiar style of the author, 
 though in a less degree than many of the others, is adapted to 
 
FELICIExN DAVID.— HIS CONCERT. 
 
 the capacities of ordinary singers, and will undoubtedly be soon 
 within the reach of all on the other side of the water. Le Chi- 
 bouk melodi€y Le Sommeil de Paris chorus, with solos, finished 
 the first part. The second was the performance of Le Desert^ 
 the clief-d' oeuvre of this great composer. It is the descriptioa 
 of the movements and actions of a caravan, with some accidents 
 that befall it The entree in the desert, orchestral. ** Glorifica- 
 tion of Allah," grand choir. This is an exquisite passage. The 
 appearance of the caravan is told by a charming march and cho- 
 rus ; but in the midst rises a wild storm, the wind whistles, and 
 the caravan is all confusion. One can feel the hurricane and the 
 clouds of flying sand beating against him, so perfect is the imita- 
 tion. By and by the tempest lulls, and shortly after the march 
 is re-commenced- 
 
 In the second division are the " Hymn to the Night," and 
 the " Evening Re very," two enchanting songs, which I wish that 
 you could hear ; I am certain you would then pardon me for 
 filling your page with this description. In the third is the 
 *' Rising of the Sun." This to me is one of the miracles per- 
 formed by music. At first, in the breathless stillness, which 
 reigned throughout the crowded theatre, a slight sound might 
 with difficulty be heard, like the buzzing of a musquito, aroused 
 by the faintest ray of light shed upon the world. This increases 
 imperceptibly, and the solitary insect is joined by another and 
 another. This trill changes to a fifth higher, as the twilight 
 deepens, and increases in force, till the sun bursts with a flood of 
 light from behind the hills, and any of the audience who may 
 have been sleeping, are awakened by shouts of applause. The 
 old walls, accustomed as they are to respond to hearty expres- 
 sions of dehght, shook fearfully with the unwonted fervency of 
 the unanimous and thundering demand for a second performance. 
 
 I scarcely remember being more pleased, than at this concert. 
 The orchestra of one hundred and fifty performers, seemed im- 
 bued with the spirit of the composer, and played with uncommon 
 precision and taste. The name of David, without any farther 
 works, is immortal. He appears to desire the resuscitation of the 
 neglected instruments, the oboe and bassoon, as most of his solos 
 
96 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 are composed for them. These excellent instruments will luir- 
 doubtedly be more used hereafter on this account. " The Des- 
 ert " is in the market to-day, and selling in great numbers, and 
 also a portrait of the author on stone. 
 
 In a former letter I informed you how they made the fashions, 
 but I have not yet enlightened you as to the time and place of 
 their origin. Within the last few days I have been to the great 
 manufactory, the Champs Elysees, to witness their formation. 
 Good Friday, and the two preceding days, are celebrated in 
 Paris as the fete of Long Champs. This fete originated 
 in a custom, among the fashionable and wealthy, of going in 
 Passion week to attend Mass at the Abbey Long Champs, at- 
 tracted thither by the superiority of the music. After the de- 
 molition of the Abbey the drive to the woods of Boulogne was- 
 still kept up. On the last of these days, or Good Friday, the 
 Champs Elysees was croAvded with vehicles. These were mar- 
 shalled into two lines, one going, the other returning, by the 
 numerous guards, and not allowed to turn out, or deviate from 
 the path, but were compelled to perform the entire circuit, a dis- 
 tance of three or four miles. Being unable to proceed faster 
 than a walk, this necessarily oocupied considerable time. In the 
 centre, circulated more freely the carriages of the nobles, am- 
 bassadors, and such others as could obtain permission. A cu- 
 riously formed vehicle, of large size, lined with white silk, and 
 drawn by four horses of different colors, contained an extremely 
 beautiful young lady in pink satin. By her side sat a dashing 
 buck. The driver, with two lackeys behind, shone in purple 
 coats and scarlet breeches. This remarkable apparition attracted 
 vast attention. The tiny carriage and httle horses of Gen. Tom 
 Thumb, or, as here designated. Gen. Tom Pouce, constituted the 
 only representative, that I observed, of the United States. His 
 excellency himself, disliking a crowd, unless of persons with each 
 a dollar in his hand to neutrahze its vulgarity, staid at home. 
 Each side of the carriage way was filled with a dense crowd of 
 spectators, amounting in the entire length, by estimation, to two 
 hundred thousand persons. 
 
 Usually, the fashions of the coming season are invented, or at 
 
CONSERVATOIRE ROYAL DB MUSIQUB. 97 
 
 least exhibited on this occasion, but this year they were post- 
 poned, as echpses sometimes were by Dean Swift, on account of 
 the weather. The spring is excessively chilly and backward, and 
 has benumbed the creative power of the Parisian brain, as well 
 as the germination of the soil, so that both are equally tardy in 
 bringing forth flowers, and giving birth to new modes. At any 
 rate, few specimens were observed among the fair occupants of the 
 vehicles; I assure, you, however, that the summer straws are 
 really beautiful. 
 
 This letter, notwithstanding all that I can do, — for I have, as 
 }^ou see, called on fashion itself, though all in vain — has a violent 
 propensit}'^ to music, and insists upon indulgence. It is conse- 
 quently only a natural fulfilment of its destiny to proceed to give 
 you an account of another concert, which I heard last night. 
 This took place at the Conservatoire Royal de Musique. This In- 
 stitution was established for the purpose of giving instruction in 
 music gratis, and has attached to it about four hundred and fifty 
 pupils. They give annually eight concerts. The solos are per- 
 formed by the first artists in the city, and the choruses and in- 
 strumental parts by the scholars. These concerts enjoy the 
 deserved reputation of being the best in the world ; for in no 
 place is such attention paid to the rehearsals. As might be ex- 
 pected, it is very difficult to obtain admission to them. At the 
 commencement of the season, tickets are taken by subscribers for 
 tlie whole eight. So great is the desire to obtain them, that a 
 queue is formed as early as four o'clock in the morning awaiting 
 the opening of the bureau at eleven. 
 
 I was unable to procure a ticket ; but going thither about an 
 hour before the commencement, with forty others, I received one 
 entitling me to stand at the door till everybody had passed in, 
 and the concert begun, and then to the further privilege of seek- 
 ing for a seat, or vacuum rather, which is as rarely found in 
 these exhibitions, as in nature herself, who, you very well know, 
 abhors it. Of course, the privilege did not avail me much. By the 
 side of the stage, however, the boxkeeper for a small gratuity gave 
 me a chair in what she justly denominated a dark closet. I there 
 found three others, whose faces were the only ones visible to me the 
 6* 
 
98 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 whole evening, and those only by the flickering ray of a candle 
 about as bright as an American fire-fly. But I heard the music 
 distinctly. What could be desired more ? I did not come to 
 aee ; and what lover of the muse, who makes her revelations to 
 the ear, could have ever thought of using his eyes, when such 
 pieces were performed in a style that nobody else could do them, 
 as Haydn's Creation, Overture to Oberon by Weber, (encored) 
 Symphonie in ut Minor of Beethoven ! The Boston Handel and 
 Haydn Society, and Boston Academy of Music have performed 
 those pieces, and the little world of the Literary Emporium were 
 delighted. Are there not many of those bright-eyed ladies, who 
 
 re then so enchanted, who would most gladly be thus shut up in 
 a dark closet with me ? There is no knowing what they would 
 do — in order to hear the sweet voice of the celebrated Madame 
 Dorus-Gras warbling the beautiful strains of Haydn's most beau- 
 tiful Oratorio. 
 
 Music has carried me through this sheet, which I commit to the 
 mercy of the waves, trusting, it will have a better fate than the 
 chree American packet ships, whose loss all deplore, especially 
 those who have again to cross the big water, and who found sea- 
 sickness quite sufficient, without going to the bottom. I have a 
 suspicion that this letter is rather stupid ; if otherwise, it must be 
 accounted for by the following, which was once said by some- 
 body, and which I leave every one to translate for himself, and 
 apply as he can — Les hem mots sont des fruits, qui viennent sans 
 etre cultives. lis surprennent autant ceux, qui les disent, que ceux 
 qui les icoutent. 
 
 I 
 
XVIII. 
 
 Common Schools — Colleges — Liberty — M. Michelet — Prisons — Thk 
 Depot dk la Prefecture de Police — The Conciergerie — Marie An- 
 toinette. 
 
 A TRITE old adage says : " Where there is a will, there is a 
 way." Like many other intellectual heir-looms, which have 
 come down to us from the flood, it has been much oftener on 
 our tongues, than in our practice. But if you ever have the mis- 
 fortune to be imprisoned in a crowd, I advise you to summon one 
 of these ** old saws," to your aid ; for you will find, as you shall 
 see I did on a recent occasion, that they are eminently useful in- 
 struments to cut a passage through. At such a crisis politeness 
 and perseverance are invaluable pioneers ; and, if the patient can 
 have the good fortune to summon to his aid the spirit of wisdom, 
 wrapped up in a classic cuticle, such as Suaviter in modo, fortiter 
 in re, for example, his speedy dehvery is certain. The truth of 
 this I had abundant experience of in going to the College of 
 France to hear a Professor deliver one of his usual lectures, of 
 which I will tell you by and by. 
 
 Much as we boast in America of our faciUties for general in- 
 formation, our system is by no means perfect. A common edu- 
 cation can be acquired, it is true, at least in the Northern States ; 
 and so far it is well. But how long are the Common Schools, the 
 legacy of the Puritans, to last ? Apostates have long ago been 
 found to disparage the character of an ancestry, of which they 
 are unworthy ; and bigots have now appeared in sheep's clothing 
 to disturb, and finally destroy, some of those invaluable institu- 
 tions, which — and nothing else — have made our country, Avhat it 
 is. The seeds of decay and ruin are being planted in the Com- 
 mon School system, and theological sectarists are laying on it the 
 
 99 
 
100 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 spoiler's hand, and parting its once seamless robe among them. 
 Alas, for the time, when the glory of New England and New 
 York shall be quenched in total eclipse ! God shield me from 
 the sight of our School-grounds turned into cabbage plots ! O, 
 may I never live to see the day, that shall witness the treacher- 
 ous conversion of these sacred nurseries of sound letters and 
 humane manners into arenas of polemic wrangling, or spots for 
 teaching a man-invented catechism, longer or shorter ! 
 
 But though the Common School — the palladium of the Repub- 
 lic — is certainly menaced with a fearful trial by those large sec- 
 tions of the community, who are accustomed to look upon their 
 party advantages, as superior to the common welfare, yet the 
 strong common sense of the people at large, it is hoped, will 
 warn them of the danger, and cause them to rally for the rescue 
 of an institution, peculiarly their own, and eminently democratic. 
 This is more than can be affirmed of the colleges, which are too 
 exclusive in their action, contribute less to the common stock of 
 science, literature and improvement, than is justly expected of 
 their imposing organization and munificent endowments ; and 
 wear an air of stately exclusion, which contrasts unfavorably with 
 the American theory of Government, and with similar institutions 
 in this country. In France the portals of the libraries and litera- 
 ry institutions are thrown wide open, and the rich and poor stand 
 on equal ground. Lectures are daily delivered on every subject, 
 with which man is conversant, by professors of the profoundest 
 learning. Of every language that is spoken in Europe, or Asia, 
 there is a public instuctor. No subject is too abstruse or rare for 
 the pubhc to hear ; no experiments too costly for them to see. 
 The people pay, and should they not have an equivalent ? Ah ! 
 France is indeed a glorious country. No wonder the Frenchman 
 feels so keenly the amour de patrie, and, having made a fortune 
 in a foreign land, sighs to return to la belle France, and to spend 
 it there. No ties are generally strong enough to bind him per- 
 manently to any other soil, or prevent him from coming home to 
 lay his bones in his native earth. 
 
 When in my last letter I ventured to assign to France, not only 
 a happy physical position with regard to variety of climate and 
 
M. MICHELET. 101 
 
 productions, and an attractive centre for the selectest treasures of 
 other countries, but to designate her capital, as a focus where 
 science, the arts, all sorts of learning, refinement, taste, luxury, 
 and sensuality, if you please, converge, and make her perhaps 
 the most brilliant star in the Universe, I anticipated that the want 
 of freedom might be objected, as casting a deep shade upon an 
 otherwise bright exterior. And what is American liberty ? Does 
 it not consist in the absence of all restraint in speech and action, 
 except what is necessary for the general welfare ? And is the 
 Frenchman a bondman ? Certainly not. In many respects in- 
 deed he is freer than my countrymen. He is not depressed by 
 the surveillance of public opinion, which, though often a salutary 
 check, is sometimes, it must be confessed, the most vexatious of 
 tyrants. Why, what degree of comfortable hberty can a poor 
 fellow enjoy, even under his own vine and fig tree, if the busy 
 body of a public is taking notes all the while ? If every man is 
 a spy, and eveiy old woman an agent of the police, or a bill-stick- 
 er to make proclamation of his violation of some of its often ar- 
 bitrary and foolish rules, his life becomes a perpetual running of 
 the gantlet. Though this odious despotism of the public, which 
 spares not even one's own castle, does not possess the power of 
 actual imprisonment, it notwithstanding, imposes heavy bail, and 
 lays a man under bonds for good behavior, as long as he lives. 
 One may wear a hat in Paris of any form, or a cap of Harvard 
 College notoriety. If he chooses ; he may put on a coat of any 
 cut or color ; a Dickens' bear-skin, even, and no mob will follow 
 on his trail, no inquisitive stranger ask him the price of his in- 
 tefjuments. 
 
 I found myself near one of the lecture rooms of the College 
 of France fifteen minutes before the usual hour, and resolved to 
 hear, and see the " agitator," the Dr. Steiger of France, the 
 inflexible persecutor of Jesuitism — Mons. Michelet. But, though 
 so early, not only was the hall filled, but the steps also leading to 
 it ; and numbers were going away in despair of effecting an en- 
 trance. On the strength, however, of the maxim with which this 
 letter commences, and with the exercise of a little agility, which it 
 inspired, I soon carried the place by escalade, and was finally 
 
103 
 
 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 most comfortably seated directly in front of the speaker. Before 
 the lecture began, I had ample time to inspect two large pictures, 
 representing passages in the history of the college, and to exam- 
 ine the audience, with a view of ascertaining its character. The 
 t^o front rows were occupied by ladies, without whose patronis- 
 ing presence few lectures of any sort are ever delivered. My 
 scrutiny, however, resulted in nothing satisfactory. The only 
 peculiarity noticed was two negroes of the most pohshed ebony, 
 which contrasted agreeably with the less highly colored com- 
 plexions around them. 
 
 The stillness of the assembly, and my reflections, were suddenly 
 interrupted by a clapping of hands and other demonstrations of 
 welcome, and I saw entering at a side door, a gentleman of some 
 five, feet six or seven inches in height. His form was slightly 
 ^ent, but not with age, for he appeared not to have seen more 
 than fifty years at the utmost. His dress, with the exception of 
 a white vest, was entirely black. Seating himself behind a table, 
 and waiting a sufficient time for the greetings to subside, he com- 
 menced his lecture. The face of Mons. Michelet has little that 
 is remarkable, as the features are quite regular ; but his dark eyes 
 are bright and beautiful. His gray hair, parted nearly in the 
 middle, is suffered to grow long, almost encircling his ears. He 
 wears neither beard nor mustache, and his somewhat sunken 
 cheeks are without any other color, than the general yellow tint 
 of his whole face, which indicates an infirm condition of health. 
 
 As a speaker, he is forcible rather than elegant. In the tones 
 and modulations of his voice he has a mannerism, reminding one 
 sometimes of a Methodist preacher ; at others of a theatrical per- 
 former, especially in his cadences, which are drawn out with a 
 slow, tragic intonation. Otherwise, his dehvery made no preten- 
 sion to oratory. Like most of the French professors, he sits, 
 while pronouncing his lecture, in consequence of which his ges- 
 ticulation is much repressed. It is his clear and logical deduction, 
 which renders his discourses so attractive. Add to this an ever- 
 pleasing power of analysis, a vein of humor and sarcasm, and 
 the excitement which agitates all around, and extends through 
 Europe, I may say, against Jesuitism, and his popularity may be 
 
THE PRISONS OF PARIS. 103 
 
 accounted for in some degree. His remarks, which are extempo- 
 raneous, with the exception of a few notes before him, were fre- 
 quently interrupted by applause. Note books and reporters were 
 very numerous ; and his distinct, slow utterance made it easy to . 
 transfer all he said to paper, word for word. 
 
 Michelet, and his colleague Quinet, are causing a great commo- 
 tion throughout the kingdom. A short time ago a petition came 
 from Marseilles, numerously signed, praying the Chamber of 
 Deputies- to stop the lectures of the former. His last work, 
 Du Pretre, des Femmes, de la Famille, has, in the space of a "few 
 months, gone through six or seven editions. The priests .are 
 doing their utmost to allay an excitement, which, they are very / 
 well aware, can be kept up only at their expense. But I have 
 not heard that any of them, as yet, have used any Brownson ' 
 knock down arguments. I trust, before long, to introduce to you 
 Mons. Quinet. 
 
 With much difficulty I have succeeded in gaining admittance 
 to the prisons of Paris. Of these there are about a dozen, con- 
 taining every class and grade of offenders. The government is 
 exceedingly slow in granting permissions to visit them, for various 
 and obvious reasons ; and it was only after making great exer- 
 tions, and explaining that I did not wish to enter them from mere 
 curiosity, but from a desire to study their construction and ar- 
 rangement, the treatment of the prisoners, their food and accom- 
 modations, the character and amount of their labor, and other 
 particulars, for future use, that the privilege was at last granted 
 to me. 
 
 The first that I visited, was one of the oldest in the city, the 
 Conciergerie. Its rough and gloomy aspect struck me very for- 
 cibly, the more, no doubt, because, since my entrance into 
 France, my visits have been principally to see the grand and 
 beautiful, with, now and then, a peep into the fantastical or gro- 
 tesque. In architecture, noble churches and splendid palaces 
 have been the chief objects of my contemplation. The differ- 
 ence was startling indeed between their waxed floors, walls glit- 
 tering with gold, and glowing with the handiwork of renowned 
 artists, and the grim, cold stone, grated windows, and iron doors 
 
104 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 of these dark habitations of crime. The contrast is, notwith- 
 standing, not so great as may be imagined ; for both are asso- 
 ciated with historic, or redolent with romantic lore ; both have 
 been the abodes of kings. In both, subtle statesmen have plot- 
 ted ; sweet maidens, and innocent princesses, sighed. What, 
 then, is the mighty difference ? Ah ! ** Disguise thyself as thou 
 wilt, still Slavery ! still thou art a bitter draught ! and, though 
 thousands, in all ages, have been made to drink of thee, thou art 
 no less bitter on that account." 
 
 I will describe these buildings more or less minutely, commenc- 
 ing as nearly as possible, in the order that the prisoners enter 
 them. The first, then, is the Depot de la Prefecture de Police. 
 This was erected in 1828 at a cost of sixty thousand dollars, and 
 is situated near the river Seine, at the head quarters of the Pre- 
 fect of the Pohce. It is capable of containing three himdred 
 persons ; but now has generally one himdred and fifty. Though 
 comparatively a modem structure, it is not built upon a 
 recent model, but resembles the gloomy strongholds of the olden 
 time. Its fastenings and windows have not their strong and mas- 
 sive look, however ; and this arises from the circumstance, that the 
 occupants are such as are yet only accused of crime. Everybody 
 arrested in Paris is first brought to this place, where they do not 
 remain more than two or three days. The edifice is divided into 
 several apartments, appropriated to the various grades of those 
 who are confined. Those accused of crime are separated from 
 such as are arrested for minor offences. The young are divided 
 from the old, males from females, those respectably clad from 
 the filthy and drunken, and finally, the sane from the insane. 
 The polite director himself accompanied me round the apartments, 
 obligingly pointed out their peculiarities ; explained their uses, 
 and, what was more than all, answered my numerous inquiries. 
 Beside these general divisions, there are subdivisions into private 
 and single rooms, and others for a multitude of twenty or thirty. 
 The former rooms are plain, every one having a grated window, 
 and each containing a bedstead, generally of wood, but some- 
 times of iron ; the sacking of the latter so arranged, however, 
 that its principal advantage — freedom from vermin — is counter- 
 
THE CONCIERGERIE. 105 
 
 acted. On this are placed two or three mattresses, of a mixture 
 of wool and hair, with suitable sheets and blankets, which alto- 
 gether make up a very comfortable bed ; a chair completes the 
 furniture of the dormitory. The arrangements for the toilet are 
 poor. A basin of water permits the indulgence of washing ; but 
 when a towel is asked for, the response is the same as was made 
 to the heroine of Mrs. Clavers, "Haint you got a 'andkercher?" 
 One who has money can command such things as he pleases. 
 The large rooms are filled with the commonest people. Extend- 
 ing the entire length of one side of the room is a something, 
 whose use one cannot at first imaofine. It resembles the leaf of 
 a table, but is in fact a species of bedstead, constructed without 
 sacking. This is let down at night, and covered with mattresses ; 
 here, with all their clothes on, the whole company of twenty 
 or more, as the case may be, sleep together in the same bed. 
 Truly crime, as well as poverty, makes strange bed-fellows. In 
 the day time the mattresses are piled away in a corner, and the 
 bedstead is elevated again to make room for promenading. Such 
 lodging strikes one as rather too bad at first ; but after taking a 
 view of the motley crew, who, like the Chourineur, never took 
 their clothes off, perhaps in all their lives, to go to bed, the slight 
 deficiency of etiquette almost disappears, and is partially atoned 
 for by its manifest convenience. Many of the company, indeed, 
 it is quite probable, never enjoyed a better lodging. One of the 
 wards is appropriated exclusively to common prostitutes, who 
 have been apprehended for making a noise in the streets, intoxi- 
 cation, or disease. Another is for the insane, found wandering 
 at larofe. After their examination, which follows the arrest, a 
 soon as possible, these are all either discharged, or sent to other 
 prisons for their trial. All the Courts are held in the Palais de 
 Justice, of which the Conciergerie is a dependence, and with which, 
 it is united by an internal passage. To this last all prisoners on 
 trial are brought for convenience, and, at its close, are liberated, 
 or conveyed in the space of two days to the places of their 
 sentence. 
 
 The Conciergerie claims a dreadful pre-eminence among most of 
 the other prisons in its local history: Within its frowning walls 
 
106 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 have been enacted many of the bloodiest and most horrible 
 tragedies of tyrannical power, and of the no less arbitrary vio- 
 lence of infuriated popular vengeance in the numerous revolutions. 
 The entrance is by an arch in the Quai de VHorloge to a court, 
 and thence through a great gate, guarded by a portcullis. The 
 stern, sombre vestibule subdues the mind to a tone suited to the 
 gloomy apartments to be afterwards seen. From the vestibule 
 one door conducts to the greffe, where is the office of the direct- 
 ors ; another to the advocate's room, where the covmsel of the 
 prisoners are admitted to consultations with them. It is divided 
 from the vestibule by a grated partition ; so that it is completely 
 imder the inspection of a multitude of jailors, who are constantly 
 seated there. Another door leads to the parloirs, or speaking 
 rooms. There are two for the two sexes, and are alike in their 
 construction, which is peculiar. A double grating two feet 
 asunder, divides the room into two parts, into one of which the 
 prisoner is introduced, and the visitor into the other. None but 
 relations, with a few exceptions, are allowed to visit here. From 
 this description, it is apparent, that nothing can be communicated 
 from the visitor to the prisoner, who, in addition to this effectual 
 isolation, is subjected to the incessant vigilance of a jailor. In 
 this prison there are few private apartments, properly speaking, 
 though every one sleeps alone in a small room, which occasion- 
 ally contains two beds. The furniture is similar to that already 
 spoken of at the Depot. At seven in the morning a bell sum- 
 mons all to rise and sweep out their rooms ; at eight they are 
 served with their allowance of soup ; at ten with their meat, and 
 at twelve with vegetables. They may eat them when they 
 choose, but they have no more till the next morning recom- 
 mences the same routine. They all enter into a common court- 
 yard together ; in the centre of which, a fountain permits to all, 
 who wish, the privilege of washing. In this court-yard, the 
 assassin and thief, the footpad and burglar, assemble together, 
 In bad weather a large room affords them shelter; when 
 cold, the cell of Louvel, the murderer of the Duke de Berri, 
 contains a stove, round which they gather. This is the only 
 place, which is warmed on the men's side. In the Depot, on 
 
MARIE ANTOINETTE. 107 
 
 the contrary, each cell is warmed by an iron pipe running through 
 it, heated by steam. The cell of Louvel is circular, and in the 
 top of its arched ceiling is a hook, from which was suspended the 
 iron cage, in which he was confined. The dungeon is wholly 
 destitue of light, but what comes from the grated door. 
 
 The side of the females is the same, as that of the men, except 
 that the chaufFoir is a common apartment ; but, at the same time, 
 it is the most remarkable of rooms. That, now used for the 
 Sacristie, is particularly worthy of notice ; for it was here that the 
 unfortunate Queen Marie Antoinette was incarcerated two months 
 and a half ; and left it only for the guillotine. The room is now 
 much altered and enlarged by the addition of several smaller ones ; 
 but its original dimensions are easily discernible. Allowing for 
 the part, occupied by her bed, a space of ten feet by two was 
 all that remained for a tenant of palaces, and a daughter of the 
 illustrious house of Hapsburgh. Behind, a small room was con- 
 stantly occupied by an armed guard, who watched every motion. 
 It now contains three excellent pictures, which, from the darkness 
 of the room lighted only by a colored glass window, are scarcely 
 visible. They commemorate portions of the sad history of her 
 checkered life ; her parting from her family before going to pris- 
 on ; her prison, as it was, when she was there ; her dress with 
 every article truthfully painted ; and her absolution by the priest, 
 before she mounted the scaffold. Her sweet face, as there de- 
 pictured, with the memory of her excellent character, made even 
 the jailor blush for the despicable and unmanly barbarity of his 
 country. This room leads to the chapel, where mass is chanted 
 every Sabbath to the assembled prisoners.^ The men are stationed 
 below, and the women in a grated gallery above, which screens 
 them effectually from observation. 
 
 A large apartment, now unoccupied, is used in times of distur- 
 bance, to confine persons under arrest ; and is capable of contain- 
 ing two hundred individuals. Still another, much smaller, with- 
 out any furniture but a stove, is called the Condemned Cell, in 
 which all, on whom judgment of death has been pronounced, 
 are confined, till their removal to the Prison des CondamnSs, 
 
108 
 
 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 They are sent hitlier, as soon as sentenced, a strait jacket; put 
 upon tliem, a mattress laid for them in a corner, and an armed 
 soldier placed on constant guard in the cell. Three days after 
 sentence they are executed, unless they consent to make confes- 
 sions, in which case forty days are allowed them. 
 
 No work is done in the Conciergerie, and its capacity is two 
 hundred and fifty persons, though rarely containing that number. 
 
XIX. 
 
 Prisons of Paris — St. Lazare — An Actress off the Stage — Filles- 
 PuBLiQUES — Debtors' Prison. 
 
 In continuing the particular description of the prisons of this 
 metropolis, we come to that exclusively devoted to females. St. 
 Lazare, situated in the rue du Faubourg St. Denis, was, at the 
 close of the sixteenth century, a hospital for the leprous. When 
 that loathsome disease was extirpated, it was given to the estab- 
 lishment of Saint Vincent de Paul, and to the congregation, which 
 he founded in 1625. From being a Convent of the Lazarists, it 
 was employed for the confinement of genteel young debauchees 
 and licentious poets, till it has now been converted into a place 
 for the detention of females committed for trial, or condemned 
 to a confinement of less than a year ; or for those, awaiting re- 
 moval to the general prison in the centre of the kingdom at Cler- 
 mont, whither all are conveyed, who have been sentenced for a 
 long term. 
 
 Before proceeding farther, let me remind the reader, that St. 
 Lazare is the thrilling scene of many a chapter of Eugene Sue's 
 Mysteries of Paris. Here are the walls that encompassed the 
 sweet Fleur de Marie, the kind-hearted Rigolette, and the bold, 
 fearless Louve. While reading that work, I remember being 
 struck with the achievement of Louve in saving the drowning 
 Marie by plunging into the rapid Seine. My surprise has ceased. 
 This apparently improbable portion of the history is now render- 
 ed less remarkable, for I find, that a great many French women 
 are expert swimmers. The river in summer is almost concealed 
 by immense floating buildings in the form of a hollow square. In 
 these buildings are baths ; and in the centre, which is covered so 
 n 109 
 
110 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 as to defy the intrusive eye, is the swimming school. There are 
 many of them of both sexes, and both are well filled during the 
 warm weather. A few days since, at noon-day, a poor girl, in a 
 fit of melancholy at the loss of a lover, threw herself from one of 
 the bridges with the design of putting an end to life and sorrow 
 together. A cry of horror arose from the numerous by-standers, 
 but not a soul moved to her rescue. A splendid carriage sud- 
 denly drove up, a young woman in gay attire leaped out, and 
 casting aside her rich cashmere and fine bonnet, plunged fearless- 
 ly into the swiftly running current, which foamed in wild eddies 
 twenty feet below. Bravely she buffeted the waves, though en- 
 cumbered with heavy clothes, reached the miserable unfortunate, 
 and brought her to the river side, where both were assisted out. 
 The girl was saved, and her lover, struck with remorse, returned 
 to her. Her daring rescuer, having played her part brilliantly in 
 the comedy of the morning, was heartily greeted in the evening 
 by the applause of another crowd, assembled to see her enact 
 her part in another comedy at one of the Boulevard theatres, of 
 which she is a member. Were the women of America thus physi- 
 cally educated, the disaster that befell the Swallow, and similar 
 ones, would probably not be attended with so painful a sacrifice 
 of human life. 
 
 Hoping by this little episode to have caught your attention, 
 you may be willing to go with me into the prison, and learn its 
 condition, which is the object of my ^isit. It is divided into three 
 fundamentally distinct parts, each of which is the receptacle of 
 diff'erent classes of individuals, who are entirely separated from 
 one another. The first contains persons committed for trial. The 
 second those who are undergoing sentence of imprisonment ; and 
 the third is for young children under sixteen years of age. I shall 
 say nothing of the first, as it is like others of the kind in similar 
 buildings. The second class is principally one peculiar to Paris, 
 to understand which requires some preliminary description. The 
 filles-puhliques of the city are subject to regulations of Govern- 
 ment in every respect. To engage in this vocation, it is requisite 
 to have the name and residence recorded at the office of the Pre- 
 fect of the Pglice. A license is then granted, as one is in our 
 
PRISON OF ST. LAZARE. Ill 
 
 country to a retailer of ardent spirits ; TTith this exception, that 
 on the certificate are inscribed the rules and regulations for tho 
 control of their behavior, which are carried into actual execution, 
 instead of sleeping on the statute-book. These consist principally 
 in limiting the hours and places of their perambulations. They 
 are forbidden for example to enter any of the public gardens, the 
 Palais Royal, and many other places ; to address in the streets 
 any one, who has a child or female in company, or any one what- 
 ever before the city is lighted in the evening, or after eleven 
 o'clock, &c. &c. This card is frequently required to be shown to 
 any of the numerous pohce, who may happen to imagine, that a 
 woman has commenced business without a hcense. The reverse 
 of the card supplies a place for the date of her physician's visit. 
 There are more than two hundred of these physicians, called offi- 
 ciers de sante, supported by the government, whose whole duty is 
 to keep an eye upon the health of this class, ne quid detrimenti 
 respublica capiat To effect this object, every maison des filles is 
 licensed, and \isited weekly. The loose women, who occupy 
 their own apartments, go themselves once a fortnight to the bu- 
 reau at the Hotel de Ville for a similar purpose. The rules are 
 so rigidly enforced, that if any are detained a day or two beyond 
 the time prescribed, a messenger is despatched at once to inquire 
 the reason. Change of residence can make no difference, for the 
 police know every inhabitant of the city, and every alteration of 
 abode is immediately noted. Disease among them is treated as a 
 crime ; such as are thus guilty, are sent to the prison of St. La- 
 zare to stay till cured. 
 
 The whole system arises from an opinion, that this mass of 
 moral evil is necessary, and absolutely beyond a cure. Whether 
 this is true or not, I shall not now undertake to discuss ; but it is 
 apropos to remark, that we all ought to understand the state of 
 the question. For it is an actual and mighty leprosy of the social 
 body, like intemperance, lotteries and gaming. About these and 
 some other epidemic vices, every man is called upon, and bound 
 most solemnly to act. It is consequently a duty, pressing him 
 with equal force to think, investigate and decide. There are but 
 
112 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 two ways of treating these disorders of the state — for he is not a 
 good citizen who does not regard them as such — one is extermi- 
 nation ; the other regulation ; and people have arranged them- 
 selves into two denominations, espousing respectively these diverg- 
 ing modes. The subject is eminently practical ; but still cannot 
 be trusted wholly to experiment. The advantages of control with 
 respect to the femme puhlique are practically shown in the small 
 amount of disease in this city, compared with London, New York, 
 and even moral Boston, where the adverse theory of legal extir- 
 pation is strongly practiced on, with all the favorable countenance, 
 which public opinion can lend. Disease however is by no means 
 a measure of the mischief, either to society, or this infected portion 
 of it. Other consequences equally hateful flow from this copious 
 fountain, and its very extent, however regulated, is itself an evil 
 of alarming magnitude. But I have little time to mention even 
 facts, and none at all to build theories on them. Of this class of 
 persons the prison contains at present upwards of three hundred. 
 They occupy the hospitals principally, which are large and com- 
 modious. 
 
 The third section contains the Orphcm Children, who, having 
 nothing to do, are begging in the city, and leading a vagabond 
 life, like Fleur de Marie ; %r making the first timid experiments 
 in petty thieving. Such are taken from the streets, and placed 
 here, where they often find better accommodations, and are really 
 happier, than ever before at any period of their lives. 
 
 In their treatment, conveniences, nourishment, and other par- 
 ticulars, no difference is known among the classes. All are roused 
 at six o'clock from their slumbers, and in half an hour proceed to 
 their respective work-rooms, where they labor under the super- 
 intendence of an officer. Needlework of various kinds is their 
 chief employment. There is, however, a manufactory of paper 
 boxes, and another of suspenders. The strict discipline, enforced 
 in the American Houses of Correction, is not observed ; but 
 every thing is conducted in a much more lenient way. The pris- 
 oners are not prevented from conversing together in the work 
 rooms, if no noise is made to disturb the prevalent tranquillity. 
 
PRISON OF ST. LAZARE. 113 
 
 On the entrance of any one, all stop their work to cast a glance, 
 and sometimes a prolonged gaze, at the visitor, which furnishes a 
 striking contrast to the manners of American institutions. No 
 task is allotted, each laboring as she pleases, provided her indo- 
 lence is not noticed by the superintendent. Work is continued to 
 six o'clock p. M., interrupted only by their meals and hours of re- 
 creation. This sounds strangely — recreation in a prison ! It is 
 so, notwithstanding. Two hours a day — one in the morning, 
 the other in the afternoon — all are permitted to walk in the court 
 shaded by fine trees ; and there they laugh and sing and amuse 
 themselves together, as much as they like, keeping within the 
 hmits of good order and decorum. In these courts are fountains, 
 which are the general wash-bowls, but refreshing breezes are the 
 only towels, which the government supplies. 
 
 In this prison, as elsewhere, it may be seen, how much better 
 it is to be a great rogue, than a small one : to steal a thousand 
 dollars than to pilfer one ; for here, as at St. Pelagie, money 
 will procure every object of desire. Six sous a week will buy 
 the privilege of sharing a room with one or two others, and 
 of working in it instead of the public shop. The ill health 
 of the prostitutes confines most of them to the hospital. This 
 is a long hall with partitions, extending only to the entry, which 
 traverses the whole lensrth of the edifice. This arrans^ement is 
 attended with the advantage of supplying a number of separate 
 rooms with an improved ventilation, and an easier superintendence. 
 There are a resident physician and apothecary ; the physician 
 en chef visits the establishment every morning. For punishment 
 of bad behavior, the shower bath, black hole, and such like, are 
 entirely unknown. The sole correction is solitary confinement in 
 her room without change of food for four days at most. On ex- 
 pressing my astonishment at its lightness, my conductor said that 
 "solitary confinement is enough for women.''* In an adjoining 
 chapel, those who are inclined, attend mass on the Sabbath ; the 
 number of such amounts to about half of the inmates. The internal 
 management is under the direction of the inestimable Sisters of 
 Charity. These religieuses have the care of all the institutions in the 
 7* 
 
114 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 city, where females are confined ; and their winning ways, and 
 attractive kindness, have been the means of drawing many from 
 the devious paths, into which they had been straying. The work 
 executed here, is of the most perfect description ; funds are thus 
 collected, which are remitted to them on their enlargement. 
 
 The Prison for Debtors is situated in the Rue de Clichy, a re- 
 tired quarter, where most of the English population live. To be 
 a candidate for admission to this Retreat, a debt of thirty dollars, 
 in the case of a foreigner, is a necessary qualification. It must be 
 payable to the original creditor ; and the candidate must be un- 
 der seventy years of age. No person can be arrested on a Sun- 
 day, or fete day ; or in any place of religious worship, or of the 
 constituted authorities ; or in any private house, if admittance is 
 refused ; or between sunset and sunrise. These popular enact- 
 ments naturally cause many debtors from England to take refuge 
 in this city. The creditor, who puts a man in prison, must make 
 a monthly advance of his board at the rate of six dollars per month ; 
 neglecting which only for a day, the debtor is set at liberty. — 
 The doors are opened to him at a fixed time, in proportion to the 
 amount of the debt ; and the creditor has no further power to 
 again confine him, the debt being thus legally cancelled. Im- 
 prisonment for a debt, less than one hundred dollars, ceases in 
 two years : in four years for two hundred dollars ; and in ten 
 years for all sums above a thousand. 
 
 The lot of these individuals is not very unfortunate. They are 
 deprived of liberty indeed ; but they pass a life of ease at the 
 cost of others, and, judging from their faces, I imagine they have 
 a merry time of it. Notwithstanding the universal cry of free- 
 dom, men in all countries are ever ready enough to sell it ; the 
 only question being about the price. The twenty cents a day are 
 given directly to the debtor, with which sum he is to provide 
 himself with food and lodging. The government charges him 
 six cents a day for his room, furnished with a bed, two tables 
 and three chairs. One would think, it would puzzle him to keep 
 house with the small remainder of this sum, even with an allow- 
 ance of a sufficient length of tether to enable him to do his mar- 
 
DEBTORS' PRISON. 115 
 
 keting himself. But most of them have money at command ; or 
 friends, who come to see them, laden with provisions. Should 
 no such providential manna be deposited for their gathering, 
 they still can manage to keep the great enemy, himger, at bay, 
 and even pass the time quite comfortably. 
 
 The whole interior administration is vested in a Committee of 
 Ways and Means, elected by the prisoners. A republican gov- 
 ernment is thus, you observe, already estabhshed in the heart of 
 France. This Board have a table (TJiote^ where all, who wish, 
 can take their meals at a stipulated sum per day. They have 
 also a capacious kitchen, and grant every one the privilege of 
 cooking whatever he chooses, for two cents daily, which is as- 
 certained to remimerate them for the charcoal used. They have, 
 beside, some property, which belongs to the prisoners ; such as a 
 billiard table, a nine- pin alley, and other things, which they let 
 to those who have money they can spare, at the rate, for in- 
 stance, of two cents for thirty rolls at the alley. The friends of 
 the prisoners are likewise allowed to spend their time with them 
 from ten o'clock, a. m. to six, p. m. of every day. Each one has 
 his room, which is furnished by himself, or friends, with various 
 degrees of luxury according to his ability or taste. A fine gar- 
 den, adorned with trees and flowers, affords an agreeable pro- 
 menade ; and no labor is exacted, but every one consumes his 
 time precisely as he pleases. Many individuals might employ 
 themselves as well within these walls, as without ; tailors for in- 
 stance. And so might the poet, the flight of whose fancy is not 
 to be hemmed in by stone partitions. I mean this hint for his 
 particular benefit, for though the poet's corner may be after 
 death, in some grand old Westminster Abbey, it is, notwithstand- 
 ing, ill his life time, apt to be the inglorious debtor's prison. 
 This, the only Institution for the confinement of debtors in the 
 city, is capable of containing four hundred individuals ; but, at 
 present, encloses only one hundred men, and eight women, who 
 are kept, of course, in separate apartments. 
 
 "We have always a good many of your countrymen," said the 
 guide. What country? ** English." I am not Enghsh, but 
 
116 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 American. ** Ah ! we have but one now from America ; a Pro- 
 testant clergyman of New York," — well-known to the residents 
 of West Point. Another was pointed out to me, as the son of a 
 peer of France, who, having spent a fortune in prodigality, was 
 expiating his indiscretion, and receiving, with the approbation of 
 his father, some wholesome instruction in this severe school of 
 economy. The penny postman had left his letters, and I had 
 finished my visit ; so we both went out together. 
 
XX. 
 
 Place de la Bastille — Column of July — Hotel de Ville — Palm Sun- 
 day — Education — Louvre — Relics — Horse Market — Thiers. 
 
 In the company of three friends, Drs. Carey of New York, and 
 King and Davis of South Carolina, I set out to visit the Hotel de 
 Ville ; for admittance to which I had written and procured let- 
 ters of the proper authorities some days previous. By inatten- 
 tion to the time specified in the billet, we arrived there about 
 an hour too early. Unwilling to lose the time, we employed it 
 in going to the Place de la Bastille. This spot is full of interest, 
 having been the scene of many historical events. The Bastille 
 has, however, disappeared, and in its place shoots up the high 
 and beautiful column of July. It is constructed of bronze, rising 
 to an elevation of one hundred and sixty-three feet, and measures 
 twelve feet in diameter. A great deal of taste is displayed in 
 this monument. Its pedestal stands upon a basement of white 
 marble, supported by blocks of granite. Around this is a tessel- 
 ated pavement of white and black stone, and finally a border of 
 red Flemish marble, surmounted by an iron fence. At the an- 
 gles oif the monument is the cock, which is now an emblem of the 
 French nation, though I do not know the reason ; perhaps from 
 that well-known principle in Heraldry, by which arms possess in 
 many instances a certain relation to names. Thus the ancient 
 sovereigns of Dauphiny and Auvergne bore a dolphin on their 
 shield ; the city of Lyons a lion ; that of Berne a bear. So 
 Gallus, a Gaul or Frenchman, might for a similar reason assume 
 the figure of the polite and gallant leader and champion of our 
 poultry, as emblematic of his nation. The family of Law in 
 Scotland, however, dispute the exclusive claim of the French to 
 
 111 
 
118 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 this really noble bird. They bear this figure in their arms in 
 allusion to the common method of expressing the cry of that 
 bird among the Scotch " cocky — leery — LawT If it is of an- 
 cient adoption among the descendants of the Gauls, I suspect this 
 emblem has become more popular than formerly. The shaft of 
 the pillar contains in large letters of gold the names of the five 
 hundred and four citizens, who were killed during the three 
 memorable days of July, 1830, and now lie buried beneath it. 
 On the top of the monument is a gilt figure, representing the 
 genius of liberty. This image is said to be one of very great 
 excellence. What pleased me more than anything was, to see 
 the numerous wreaths, hung upon the pickets of the iron fence by 
 the hands of affectionate relatives of the " glorious dead." I sup- 
 pose, there were some twenty, many of them fresh, beside others, 
 which had apparently hung there for a long time. Under the 
 monument runs the canal St. Martin, which is spanned by one 
 stupendous arch of masonry. It was here that Bonaparte in- 
 tended to erect an immense elephant in bronze, which, with the 
 tower, was to have been seventy-two feet high, from whose trunk 
 a fountain was to play. The project was to construct it of can- 
 non to be taken in Portugal and Spain, but, unfortunately for the 
 plan, these were never captured, and by consequence, the mam- 
 moth water-spout was never built. The plaster model, however, 
 is remaining near the column. A monument on this plan is ex- 
 pected to be erected shortly, but in another portion of the city. 
 
 Returning from this digression to our primary destination, we 
 entered the Hotel De Ville, or Town House, after lingering to ad- 
 mire its elegant exterior. This, you may imagine, consumed some 
 time, for it is one of the most beautiful buildings in Paris. It is in 
 vain to attempt a description ; this must be reserved till my return. 
 I will say, however, that it has turrets and minarets and windows 
 and niches. These niches are filled with statues of the great men 
 of France ; among whom I recollect Buffon, Rollin, Descartes, Sul- 
 ly. This edifice was built by Philip Augustus, but, like the jack- 
 knife, which had possessed seven new blades and five new handles, 
 and yet remained the same instrument, the Hotel De Ville has 
 been so thoroughly renewed, that its original founder himself 
 
PALM SUNDAY. 119 
 
 could not possibly recognise it. The repairs are even not yet 
 completed. This is the spot, where all the revolutions have com- 
 menced, and which has witnessed most of the great political acts 
 of these times. It was here from a window in the saloon of the 
 throne, that Lafayette, haxing embraced Louis Philippe, presented 
 him to the people. In this building, too, Robespierre held his 
 council. The rooms, which are shown, with these exceptions, are 
 devoid of peculiar interest, and only distinguished by the rich- 
 ness of their furniture, their painted ceilings, silk and gold cur- 
 tains, large mirrors, and similar embellishments. 
 
 The recent snow and subsequent rain have plunged the street.s 
 into a condition by no means unusual to an American. Notwith- 
 standing this, it being Sunday, there were crowds of people in the 
 streets. Being unfavorable for promenading, they directed their 
 steps in greater numbers than usual toward the churches. An- 
 other reason beside, which influenced me, also attracted them. 
 It was a fete day. Palm Sunday. Around the church of St. Sul- 
 pice, which I attended, and others likewise which I passed, were 
 many old men and women, having piles of a kind of green shrub, 
 principally, if not entirely, box. A branch of this they sold for 
 a sous. Every person who entered, that I saw, bore one of them. 
 The numerous priests also, who assisted at the ser\ice, held them 
 in their hands. On a strong box, placed to receive the contribu- 
 tions of the charitable, I noticed a label, stating that it was intend- 
 ed for those who wished to consume milk and butter during 
 Lent. The heinous sin of this indulgence is wholly washed away 
 by a few sous dropped into this receptacle, the number of which is 
 governed, I presume, by the appetite of the contributor. Every 
 day this form of religion becomes more and more disgusting. I 
 do not think, however, that there is much hypocrisy among the 
 people. It is simply, because their organ of faith must be re- 
 markably large. This, I consider, originates in ignorance. The 
 multitude of Paris are unacquainted even with the rudiments of 
 education. If they can read at all, it is with so much difficulty, 
 as to give no pleasure. It is not uncommon for porters, concier- 
 ges and others, to mention in their advertisements, that they can 
 read and write. When they possess the abihty to read, their 
 
120 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 low wages allow them to buy few books, and their tastes select 
 those of very indifferent character. The churches are therefore 
 filled with the lower orders of men, and the higher classes of 
 women. The latter are unfortimately not so well informed as 
 in the United States. Two things are very rare here, though of 
 perpetual occurrence in America — blue stockings and prudes. 
 The former are rarce aves, the latter absolutely unknown. 
 
 After church I went to the Louvre. A part of the old pictures 
 has been taken away to make room for a yearly exhibition of the 
 works of modern painters. This was the first day of public ex- 
 hibition, since they have been placed there ; and notwithstanding 
 the rain and *' slosh," the crowd was very great. The two sous,, 
 which are exacted for the care of umbrellas, must produce quite 
 a sum for Louis Philippe. Speaking of umbrellas, they have an 
 excellent custom at Paris in regard to the care of cloaks and other 
 loose gear at all public places, and also at private balls, which 
 ensures their safety. A number is attached to each article, which 
 is then put away by a servant. A corresponding number is pre- 
 sented to the owner, on the return of which, his property is in- 
 stantly restored. How much better is this, than the vexatious 
 exchange of garments at an American party or ball ! What a 
 confusion of moveables and personal chattels ! Wliat a disregard 
 of old landmarks and notions of meum and tuum ! It is almost 
 as hazardous to be the last to depart from an American assembly, 
 as to sit down to a dinner table after the guests have risen. What 
 a capital scheme this ticketing would be on steamboats to secure 
 the re-appearance of one's boots ! At the masked balls a consid- 
 erable revenue arises from the ten sous on each bundle. At the 
 museums of Paris and Versailles, where two sous are charged on 
 canes, parasols and umbrellas, which are prohibited from being 
 carried into the galleries, the income is forty thousand dollars a 
 year. 
 
 In such a crowd it was quite impossible to observe the pictures. 
 The critics, who have been permitted an entrance for several days, 
 complain that the character of them is not equal to what it has 
 been for several years past. In one thing, however, they are not 
 inferior to the master- pieces of the old painters. They are in 
 
RELICS.— HORSE MARKET. 121 
 
 general quite their equals in freedom from drapery ; not even a 
 fig-leaf is thought necessary. Strange, when the actual men and 
 women of society owe so much of their consequence to the tailor 
 and dressmaker, that the mimic representations of them should 
 dispense so entirely with their services. 
 
 I have been to see the relics, of which I lately wrote. There 
 were not so many, as I had heard, consisting only of the true 
 crown of thorns, a piece of the true cross, and some nails which 
 were used in fastening our Saviour upon it. All these I have 
 seen, though at a little distance. They were placed on the altar 
 of the cathedral of Notre Dame. The crown no longer retained its 
 thorns ; they had been broken off, and given to various churches. 
 The remains were enveloped in a box of crystal, so overlaid with 
 gold, that little, if any, of the wood was visible. The nails, which 
 are described as red with the blood of our Saviour, were also en- 
 closed in a case of gold, or gilt, so that they were in a great mea- 
 sure concealed. The piece of the true cross was more exposed, 
 and looked as if it might have been part of the panel of an old 
 oaken door. A multitude of carriages was before the entrance, 
 and the church was thronged with women. Though four or five 
 thousand were probably present, its vast dimensions would have 
 very easily admitted as many more. I heard, or rather saw, a 
 sermon ; for on account of the distance of my seat from the priest, 
 I could not hear a word ; yet I had the satisfaction of seeing him 
 point frequently to these relics. The priests were allowed to ad- 
 vance and kiss them ; but the poor public were only indulged 
 with a look, and the liberty of " lifting up their eyes to Heaven 
 and saying, God be merciful to me a sinner." 
 
 Let me say a word of the Horse Market, where I found col- 
 lected five or six hundred horses of all kinds and conditions, from 
 the immense Norman horses to such as resemble the American 
 and Canadian. In the centre of the market was a course of about 
 five hundred feet in length, where the speed of the animals was 
 tried. Around it stood the jockeys with whips, whose privilege 
 it was to strike every creature that passed. The poor beast in 
 going round this ground would sometimes receive several hun- 
 dred blows. The students of Paris are frequently " taking 
 
122 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 courses," on Chemistry, Theory and Practice of Physic, and other 
 sciences ; — here were many engaged in " taking a course," on 
 Anatomy ; for the skin and bones they bestrode, often could not 
 merit a better name. On one side, a hill called an essai, with a 
 steep ascent and descent, afforded an opportunity to test their 
 strength, and this is done by attaching them to a cart with 
 cloo^ffed wheels. 
 
 Mons. Thier's new work, the " History of the Consulate," a 
 sequel or continuation of his " History of the Revolution," has sold 
 with unprecedented success. The newspapers state, that ten 
 thousand copies were disposed of the first day, and the edition 
 exhausted. The fame, which he acquired by his first work, sells 
 the second. I have seen no report of its character. 
 
 The French generally serve up every kind of food separately. 
 But there is one dish in the dessert, which is a mixture, called 
 les quatre mandiants — the last word not in the lexicon, meaning, 
 eatables — consisting of filberts, almonds, raisins and figs. The 
 melange which I have prepared, though it will not compare with 
 the mandiants in relish or adaptation, can boast, you must cer- 
 tainly confess, of a much greater number of ingredients. 
 
XXI. 
 
 English — Washing Establishments — St. Sulpice — The "Swiss" — 
 Chamber of Peers — Traits in French Character. 
 
 The twenfy-third of last month was a great Fete day, and I 
 went to the church of St. Roch, to hear mass. I am isfnorant 
 of the composer, but it was excellently chanted and sung by the 
 first vocalists of the Italian Opera. It was with no little difficul- 
 ty, that I effected an entrance into the building. At a very early 
 hour, it was completely filled, and on my arrival, the soldiers ex- 
 tinguished absolutely every hope of admittance. But, accidently 
 I happened to overhear a gentleman remark to two ladies, that 
 he had obtained leave to enter at a back door. On the instant, 
 I followed them, and just as they were going to enter, taking the 
 arm of one of the ladies, I very unblushingly walked in, not for- 
 getting to thank her for thus successfully, though unwittingly, 
 covering my attack. Notwithstanding this skilful manoeuvre, I 
 was, after all, under the necessity from the immense press, of re- 
 maining in one of the chapels, where, though I could hear perfect- 
 ly, I was unable to see either singers, priests, or what all were more 
 desirous of doing, the Queen, who regularly attends this church. 
 It is wonderful to meet everywhere so many English men and 
 women. There is scarcely a company into which I go, or a street 
 I pass through, where I do not hear some one speaking my own 
 tongue. And, indeed, without a word, it is easy to recognise 
 them, especially the men, whose shaven faces and haughty strut 
 betray them, accompanied, not unfrequently, with a rawness, 
 which not only bespeaks a want of acquaintance with Paris, but 
 even with good manners. Quite a common sign in the shop win- 
 dows is — " Enghsh spoken here." 
 
 123 
 
124 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 From sheer curiosity, just follow my " washing," in its per- 
 ambulations through the city. A young girl takes it from my 
 room, and carries it to the establishment of her mistress. Here 
 every article is marked with a bit of thread. Thence it travels 
 to the river at the dirtiest portion of it, where the city sewers 
 disembogue their foul contents. At this delightfully selected 
 spot are large houses built on boat-shaped foundations, two hun- 
 dred feet long or more, two stories in height, and provided with 
 windows, chimneys and other conveniences, like a common dwell- 
 ing on the land. The lower story floor is nearly even with the 
 water's edge, and open to the air. On this platform are to be 
 seen some hundred or two women in each of these establishments 
 enoraored in cleansino^ the linen. One should never allow himself 
 to imagine, even for a minute, that the chattel is his own, which 
 he observes undergoing the torture of purification ; the conse- 
 quences would assuredly be fatal to his peace of mind. When 
 a man beholds his house burning up, he is in some sort recon- 
 ciled to liis misfortune by witnessing the manly eff"orts put forth 
 by generous firemen to rescue his property. But he is reduced 
 to positive despair, when he views the wanton exertions made to 
 annihilate his nice shirts, and without any apparent compunctions 
 of conscience. But labor is cheaper than soap, and therefore it 
 is used with greater freedom. Economy is duly attended to ; but 
 it is the economy of soap, and not of linen. Fuel, as well as 
 soap, is so dear, that no one ever thinks of boiling the " white 
 things," as in the United States. In the place of the former, 
 they use Veau de javelle, which is nothing more nor less than lie, 
 and so strong, as to flay the hand which touches it. This is 
 applied without mercy. After this corrosive ablution, they are 
 pounded with a wooden hammer, till every button on the shirt is 
 broken, a signal, that they have been beaten enough. The poor 
 victim is yet not entirely despatched ; there are still some re- 
 mains of vigor left. This is soon dissipated, for it is next laid 
 upon a board, and a brush of stiff" bristles is energetically applied 
 by a lusty woman. It is then rinsed in the yellow river, convey- 
 ed to the room overhead and dried, returned to the first hands to 
 be starched and u'oned, and in a few days the bundle of rags is 
 
CHURCH OF ST. SULPICB. 125 
 
 brought home to the unconscious proprietor, who pays six sous 
 for the transformation, and consigns it to the paper-maker. Two 
 sous are charged apiece for a similar conversion of collars, hand- 
 kerchiefs and hose. The consequence of all this is, that dirty- 
 shirts are so excessively numerous, as to become almost distinc- 
 tive of a gentleman. To mark linen with indelible ink is perfect- 
 ly useless ; after such a process, even Kidder's is invisible. 
 
 The 24th was a decidedly musical day with me. I have al- 
 ready given you a sketch of my morning and evening feasts, but, 
 between the two, I was treated by a lucky accident with a cap- 
 ital luncheon, Virginie came running to my room, and said, that 
 I had better go to St. Sulpice — a step only from me — and hear 
 the Hallelujah and Gloria, I was too late for the former, but 
 the latter I heard. The immense church was crammed, the vast 
 multitude uniting in the music with the hired singers and orches- 
 tra. Never have I heard such music performed by such a choir. 
 At a Methodist camp -meeting on Cape Cod, I once heard ten 
 thousand people, or thereabouts, singing their humdrum melo- 
 dies, but at this time the finest music in the world was sung by 
 almost an equal number, led by a large choir of finished per- 
 formers. I do not know, that I was ever so affected on any simi- 
 lar occasion, as now, when the priest, taking the cross from the 
 altar, and turning to the multitude, presented it in blessing them. 
 With one accord all fell upon their knees, and bowed their heads 
 in adoration ; then rising, every mouth was open, and every voice 
 loud with the praise and glory of the Lord. Every voice but 
 mine. I was completely choked. My heart came into my mouth ; 
 it was impossible to utter a sound, and cold chills went and came. 
 This strong effect was new and surprising. Yet it was not a re- 
 ligious emotion. Strange to say, I do not remember thinking of 
 the cause of this adoration. It was but an ecstasy of mere social 
 feeling, which I doubt not many mistake for a more holy senti- 
 ment. In the midst of all these solemn and impressive influences, 
 I was strongly tempted to laughter. A poor girl, who was stand- 
 ing in the passage, knelt down with all the rest, but the Swiss, or 
 servant, who has the charge of preserving order, objected to her 
 obstruction of the avenue, and asked her to remove. She arose, 
 8 
 
126 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 and again kneeled in the same place. He again insisted on her 
 removal, but still again she persisted in occupying nearly the same 
 position, and by the time the controversy was ended, the whole 
 multitude had arisen. 
 
 This Swiss is quite a prominent person in the church. He is 
 dressed in scarlet, richly trimmed and adorned with gold lace, a 
 chapeau with three corners, a sword by his side, and in his hand 
 a baton of oflSce perhaps five feet long, ornamented with a large 
 gold head. Over one shoulder is thrown a scarf, which crosses 
 the breast to the other side, extending to the knee, and is also 
 highly embellished. This functionary precedes the priest in his 
 short walk from the sacristy to the enclosure of the altar, making 
 way for him by striking the stone floor violently and repeatedly 
 with this truncheon. During the ser\'ice of mass and other exer- 
 cises, he marches round among the people, demanding oflferings 
 for the church, and followed by two priests with each a bag, one 
 to contain collections for the church, the other those for the poor. 
 At three sous for every chair, the amount so obtained is by no 
 means small. 
 
 In the afternoon of the twenty-sixth I went to the Chamber 
 of Peers. To obtain admission a ticket is required,/which is given 
 by one of the members. On the point of entering, to my inex- 
 pressible chagrin, I discovered, that I was in that agreeable po- 
 sition called a dilemma, and termed by some elegant writers, a 
 fix. My ticket was not to be found ! What was to be done ? 
 Time pressed ; I did not despair of obtaining entrance however. 
 I asked the guard, who declined to admit me without one, where 
 I could get a ticket ? He said of the Swiss (or servant) below. 
 I found him easily. On propounding the matter to him, he with 
 solemn mystery and pretended secrecy, conducted me away from 
 all observers, and said he had one^ ticket. On inquiring what he 
 asked, he replied in the obsequious manner, which this class al- 
 ways affect the world over, towards one whom they design to 
 take in, " What you please." I was not born in New-England 
 for nothing, and therefore discovered, that too much amour-propre 
 costs very dear in France. Instead of two or three francs, which 
 he probably thought would have been almost urged on him for a 
 
CHAMBER OF PEERS. J27 
 
 ticket, bought in a dark comer, and enveloped in mystery, he got 
 a fifteen sous piece, which happened to be in my pocket. I begin 
 to understand the people, and am no longer to be wheedled by 
 bows, or overawed by bluster. I offer a man half what he asks, 
 without a thought that I am insulting him. And, after all, I 
 often think the purchase might have been made for half the price 
 agreed to. Ah ! the French are a sorry people. A remark 
 in the Britannia, a London paper,, which I saw this morning, was 
 so striking, that I give it to you with the endorsement of several 
 Americans, to whom I read it — "France is only taking her 
 first footsteps in civilization. This language would probably en- 
 rage Frenchmen, who, by some original fantasy of their nature, 
 always regard themselves as the first of mankind. But as they 
 grow wiser, they will comprehend, that civilization does not mean 
 glass and gilding, millinery and bon-bons ; but common sense 
 vcommon freedom, common law. In all these things Frenchmen 
 are still but children, and children they will remain, so long as 
 they think that plate glass and palaces, and boasting about 
 France, and bravadoes against the world, are the substantial 
 power of a nation." 
 
 This is not telling you of the Chamber of Peers. I got in, as 
 you have seen. It cost twice as much to see Gen. Tom Thumb. 
 The room, where the public session is held, is extremely beauti- 
 ful. It is in the form of a semicircle. In the middle of the axis 
 .are the seats of the President and Secretaries ; before them 
 the rostrum, from which all the speeches are made. The chairs 
 in front are for the members. They are lined with green and 
 yellow damask. The carpets are of the same colors. The walls 
 ■are brilliant with gilding, and the ceiling is painted with allegori- 
 cal representations of law and justice. Around the walls are 
 numerous busts of the Marshals of France, and pictures of 
 scenes in the lives of Louis XI. and Philippe of Valois. I sat 
 through the speeches of several of the honorable members, 
 which were delivered wiih very little animation, employing 
 myself in looking at their dresses. They all wore a coat with 
 collar and cuffs embroidered in gold. This uniform, with vests, 
 oravais and pants of all colors and shapes, reminded me of a 
 
128 
 
 OLD WLNE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 stable boor, who slips on a white jacket to wait upon the table 
 at dinner, but whose nether integuments reveal very plainly his 
 more legitimate calling. As soon as the clock struck five, they 
 all jumped from their seats with an alacrity unexpected from 
 their gray hairs, and rushed to the doors ; and, before the 
 President could say, " session is adjourned," they were half 
 of them in their carriages. Dinner bells have the same effect 
 in French palaces as in the Mississippi River steamboats. 
 
XXII. 
 
 Arc dk Triomphe — Wall of Paris — Duke op Orleans — His Death 
 AND Mausoleum — Consequences — Successor to Louis Philippe. 
 
 On a fine day, a short time ago, Dr. Gary, of Buffalo, New 
 York, accompanied me for a promenade in the Champs Elysees. 
 We soon came to the Arc de Triomphe. Our attention being di- 
 verted and engrossed by a great many equipages, which were 
 being shown oflF by their aristocratic proprietors, the distance of 
 three miles was insensibly passed. I shall not take up the space 
 requisite for a description of this monimient of the genius of Bo- 
 naparte. I say of Bonaparte, because, though actually erected 
 by Louis Philippe, it was the design of the Emperor. Passing 
 the barrier, we came to the famous wall, which is now being 
 built, and nearly completed, around the city. This evidence of the 
 folly of legislation, though many think of the monarch's sagaci- 
 ty, is a stupendous work. Independently of the cost of the land 
 which it occupies, the expense of its erection alone has been im- 
 mense. It is constructed of sohd stone some twenty feet in height. 
 This is encompassed by a deep trench, capable of being flooded, 
 constituting an impassable moat from twentj^to thirty feet wide. 
 Earth is heaped up behind the wall, forming a solid massy ram- 
 part. Numerous forts are interspersed along the line. What the 
 eventual cost will be, it is quite impossible even to conjecture. 
 In 1841, thirty millions of dollars were granted for the com- 
 mencement. A day or two ago. Marshal Soult presented a bill 
 to the Chamber of Deputies, asking an appropriation of three 
 million dollars, and more, for the necessary guns and equipments. 
 A newspaper of the humorous and satirical order, called the 
 
 129 
 
ISO OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 Charivari, which, hke the ancient court jesters, with its folly, ut- 
 ters many truths, says, " M. Soult wants three million dollars for 
 the fortifications. Surely, it is the pohcy of the Government ta 
 preserve peace at whatever expense." 
 
 A little beyond the fortifications is the spot, where in 1842 
 the Duke of Orleans, heir to the throne of France, breathed his 
 last. All must recollect, for the tragical catastrophe concerned 
 the world, that his horses, becoming unmanageable from fright, 
 the Prince, in attempting to jump from his carriage, fractured his 
 skull, and died in four hours after. He was borne into the shop 
 of a grocer ; and on this spot has been erected by the King a 
 most beautiful chapel, dedicated to St. Ferdinand. It is the most 
 charming object that I have seen in Paris, or indeed anywhere 
 else. The structure is but fifty feet in length, and twenty in 
 height. There is nothing striking in its external appearance, ex- 
 cept the cross, which surmounts it, and the windows, which are 
 of a peculiar shape. Little of it can be seen from the street, as 
 it is surrounded by a high wall. The interior is of white marble. 
 Directly opposite the door of entrance is an altar to the Virgin, 
 situated on the exact place, where the unfortunate Prince expired. 
 This is surmounted by a fine statue of the Virgin and child 
 The simple ornaments of the altar, candlesticks, cross, &c,, are 
 chased silver. At the right hand is a most touching monument, 
 representing the Prince upon his death-bed, enveloped in a cloak, 
 which however does not conceal the star upon his breast and the 
 epaulet upon his shoulder. At the head of his pillow is an en- 
 chanting " Spirit," with expanded wings, in the attitude of sup- 
 plication. Nothing on earth can be more pathetic than this. I 
 defy any one to look upon it without being affected to tears. 
 The monument is in two parts, but so delicately joined, that an 
 observer does not at first notice the fact. The " Spirit" is the 
 work of his deceased sister, the accomplished Princess Marie, who 
 little imagined it was one day to serve for the mausoleum of her 
 brother. The rest is by Triqueti, from a sketch by Mons. A 
 Scheffer. The windows are of colored glass, depicting the pa- 
 tron saints of the family. The pavement consists of white and 
 
DUKE OF ORLEANS.— HIS DEATH. 131 
 
 black marble. In a small room behind the altar is a painting of 
 great merit, which must have been placed there within a short 
 time, as the date upon it is 1844, but I neglected to take the 
 name of the artist It is a literal representation of the closing 
 scene in the hfe of the deceased, who is represented lying on a 
 bed placed upon the floor. His features have already assumed 
 the ashy hue of death. He is dressed in a shirt open at the 
 neck, with the red pantaloons of his uniform. A priest is in the 
 Sbct of applpng vinegar to his nostrils. Behind, attentively 
 watching, are his physicians, hastily called, and another priest. 
 At the foot of his bed kneels the king, no longer a king, but a 
 father. The queen and two of his sisters are on their knees by 
 his side. A little behind them stand two of the younger bro- 
 thers, and at the door Marshal Soult, Guizot, and the aide-de- 
 camp of the dying Prince. It is a very impressive tableau 
 indeed, and, aside from the fine execution and excellent hkenesses 
 of the piece, the interest of the scene is very great. 
 
 The death of the Due D'Orleans was not merely a domestic be- 
 reavement to the reigning famil}''. It was a momentous loss to 
 France and to the world. The consequences are yet to come. 
 The throne, on the death of the present tenant, will descend to 
 the son of the deceased, the youthful Count of Paris, who is not 
 more than eight or nine years of age. During his minority the admin- 
 istration of aflfairs will devolve on the Due de Nemours, who is by 
 far the most unpopular of the princes. There are besides two 
 competitors for the succession, who have numerous and ardent ad- 
 herents, and who are all prepared for a desperate contest for 
 the supreme power. The claims of the House of Bourbon are 
 strongly advocated in private. Many seize every opportunity to 
 decry the present king. By a base artifice, practised by lying 
 politicians on the everlasting gullibility of the common people 
 on both sides of the water, and meant to rouse the slumberingr 
 fires of national jealousy, they say, that he has submitted to be 
 dictated to by England. That he has allowed the Great Nation 
 to be humbled, in consequence of which the eye of Europe is no 
 longer fixed on France, to inqmre what step she shall next pre- 
 
132 
 
 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES, 
 
 sume to take. These angry declamations they universally finish 
 by adding, to my unutterable astonishment, " that it was not so 
 under the Bourbon dynasty." My surprise is owing to the cir- 
 cumstance, that, though not old enough myself to have a person- 
 al or contemporary knowledge of that portion of the world's his- 
 tory, yet I have a feeble remembrance of hearing my father say, 
 that the Bourbon dynasty of our times was fed, clothed, housed, 
 and nursed by England ; and, when it was not able to walk alone, 
 from sheer debility, was taken in her brawny arms, carried back 
 to Paris, and made to sit upright on the French throne. She also 
 put a sceptre into the hands of this remnant of the Bourbons, 
 and tried to make the monarch hold it, but it dropped almost 
 immediately from his puny grasp. Louis Philippe picked it up, 
 and has held it ever since, and will continue to wear it, till death 
 shall dissolve his hold, and mingle his ashes with those of his 
 lamented son. To him he would doubtless have bequeathed it, 
 '*but destiny denied." 
 
 Again there are many, who are dazzled by the glorious monu- 
 tiaents of Napoleon. These sigh for a return of that stirring and 
 brilliant epoch, when the French Empire was the fear and w^on- 
 der of the universe. Of course they aim at the restoration of his 
 power. They do not want a niggardly prince, they say, who 
 seeks to fill his coffers, and provide a magnificent revenue for- each 
 of his many sons. 
 
 But in the meantime Louis Philippe is no fool. His gray hairs 
 cover no empty caput. He sees as far into the dark as most 
 men, his enemies not excepted. Wrecked in his early hopes 
 and fortunes, expelled from his country, and abandoned to wan- 
 der, like Ulysses, over the face of the earth in grief and want, he 
 did not return without bringing back with him to his native land 
 some of the wisdom and experience, which marked that acute 
 Greek. When the world beholds upon the throne, a man, who 
 has gone to school, like him, to poverty and misfortune, and been 
 taught by them to contend with hardships and vanquish diflS- 
 culties, they may be sure they see a constitutional master, as 
 Government ought ever to be, of a free people, and not the 
 
LOUIS PHILirrE, 133 
 
 miserable pageant of a palace ; one, who is " every inch a king," 
 and neither the organ nor contemptible tool of a mob. He is 
 as profoundly sensible, as any one, that waves of trouble may 
 ere long break upon his house, and is anxiously preparing for the 
 possible event. The bit of red ribbon worn in the button-hole, 
 which catches the eye so frequently in the street, costs nothing, 
 and gains a man. His sons, whom he has pushed forward in the 
 army and navy to the highest posts, reflect upon his family some 
 portion of the glory won by the conquests in Algeria, and cause 
 the names of Orleans and victory to be sometimes mentioned 
 together. These redound not only to the honor of France, but 
 illustrate the name also of Louis Philippe. Numerous cheap 
 portraits of the Royal Family are framed and hung up in the 
 apartments of the peasant and mechanic — will they avail no- 
 thing ? The large picture of one of the battles of Algeria, now 
 exhibiting in the Louvre, the largest painting in the world, and 
 by the first master of the age, representing the victory of the 
 French arms, and a son of Louis Philippe, surrounded by fugi- 
 tives imploring safety — will this have no effect ? Ah ! the forty 
 thousand dollars paid for it to the great Horace Vernet were not 
 bndly invested ; and the hundred thousand dollars to be paid for 
 Ihe battle of Isly to the same illustrious master, who has already 
 gone to Algiers to view the localities, when viewed in connection 
 with the mild beneficence and uninterrupted prosperity of the 
 present reign, must also contribute its mite in promoting the 
 tranquillity of the succession of his family. 
 
 While he thus captivates the popular mind, the king does not 
 neglect the opposite class. With all the irreligion existing in the 
 kingdom, there is an abundant mixture of piety, and this is the 
 more active, because it is obliged to struggle with difficulty. He 
 therefore does not overlook this conservative spirit. His wife 
 and daughters are assiduous in their attendance on divine wor- 
 ship. So bigoted is the queen, indeed, that she ascribes the 
 death of her son to the fact of his being a protestant, and is said 
 even to persecute his widow, almost unceasingly, for her adher- 
 ence to this faith. 
 8* 
 
134 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 I saw, a few days ago, a tall, fine-looking woman in the street, 
 who was evidently shopping, as she stood a long time regarding 
 the goods exhibited in the Magazin de Grand Conde, immediately 
 opposite my apartments. My " know-every thing," Virginie told 
 me it was a cousin of the Empress Josephine. I took my hat 
 and went out to see her, but she looked to me just like — a cou- 
 sin of anybody else. 
 
XXIII. 
 
 Exhibition of Flowers and Fruit — Love of Flowers — Flower Girls 
 —Horse Races — ^Auber — War between England and America. 
 
 To-day I have been to see — and I know how you would have 
 rejoiced to accompany me — the show of flowers and fruits, which, I 
 think, is held annually at the palace of Luxembourg. This is not 
 the exhibition of a society, but individuals are induced to present 
 their productions in the hope of obtaining rewards or commenda- 
 tion from the committee. This committee is appointed, I believe, 
 by the Government, and the money for the prizes is contributed by 
 public-spirited individuals. In addition to the former usage, this 
 year medals were offered by the Duchesses D'Aumale and Ne- 
 mours. The prizes had been awarded previously to my visit, and 
 in the various collections were placed the owners' names, and no- 
 tices like the following : " The medal of the Duchess de Nemours ;" 
 " Frst prize-medal of the ladies ;" ** Honorable mention, third prize," 
 &c. The flowers were arranged on the lower floor of the palace, 
 a situation far from favorable ; first, because of its darkness, and 
 next, from its contracted space. One would suppose that a palace 
 could aff"ord a suitable apartment for an appropriate display. It 
 is certain, that, if there is one, it was not used on the present oc- 
 casion. The vrindows were obscured with curtains, lest the sun 
 might injure the flowers placed near them. While I gazed upon 
 these plants, a comparison spontaneously arose in my mind with 
 those exhibited every Saturday at the Horticultural Room in Bos- 
 ton, where, you know, I was a regular attendant. After a slight 
 description, you shall have the eff'ect which they had upon me. 
 
 The show was to continue four days, and this was the morning 
 of the third. As there were few or no cut flowers, their ap- 
 
 135 
 
136 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 pearance was little, if any, inferior to that of the first day. You 
 know the species, which bloom at this season in the United States. 
 Here were very few, if any, different sorts. There were Rhodo- 
 dendrons, Azahas, and Heaths of numerous descriptions in very 
 fine condition. The latter were in great variety, and superior to 
 anything of the kind that I ever saw at home. As they are 
 indigenous here, growing spontaneously in the country, the soil 
 and climate necessarily cause this superiority. The next largest 
 family was the Camellias. These were very few in number, and 
 the varieties quite limited. I was sadly disappointed at their 
 paucity. A few white, and some red, were very good. The 
 Roses white, yellow, tea and common monthly, were very poor. 
 No Tulips w%re to be seen, but Hyacinths bloomed in large variety, 
 and were very excellent ; also a few Pionies. And here the list 
 must close, with the exception of a few strangers, such as Cacti, 
 Magnolias, &c., perhaps a dozen of each. As to fruit, little 
 could be expected at this period of the year, and therefore no 
 disappointment was felt on beholding two or three dozen apples 
 and pears, a few green figs, grapes from Mons. S. Rothschild's 
 green-house, and strawberries of the same cultivation in pots, of 
 course not numerous. They also reckoned one cauliflower, one 
 cucumber, a few cherries and such like, all growing in pots. In 
 short, take it altogether, don't you think it rather meagre ? 
 
 ^In an adjoining room were tools of every description for tilling, 
 grafting, &c., but all on the small garden scale. I did not see a 
 plow or pitch-fork ; nothing but little implements for Countesses 
 to scratch the dirt with, and to help Duchesses cut bouquets. 
 The apartment contained plenty of books on the cultivation of 
 Pansies, (which I neglected to state, formed a conspicuous part of 
 the display) also on flower gardening ; in short, everything of 
 the nice, pretty order — altogether French — nothing on farming, 
 the method of growing good fruit, or vegetables — nothing Ameri- 
 can. There were pictures of flowers, much handsomer than the 
 originals, and artificial ones, exquisitely natural, though possess- 
 ing the same fault as the pictures ; for the French flatter even 
 nature herself. So far, indeed, as the texture was concerned, I 
 
EXHIBITION OF FLOWERS 137 
 
 hesitated, whether they were real or not. I considered, that they 
 might be extremely fine specimens of the work of nature in a 
 happy moment. They are made, however, from something like 
 the rice paper of the Chinese. I never beheld better imitations 
 of Camellias and Carnations. 
 
 If they go on at this rate, the time may come, it is not at all 
 improbable, when nature will give up the trouble of producing 
 flowers to the ingenuity of the French, while she herself shall con- 
 fine her whole attention to the growing of the more substantial, but 
 coarser esculents, such as com, cabbages and potatoes, in which 
 department she encounters no competition from them at present. 
 It is to be hoped, however, that she will never go so far as to 
 desert the regular and time-honored way of propagating men and 
 women, the latter especially, and so permit the tailor and dress- 
 maker to fabricate them entirely — as they already do to a start- 
 Hng degree, of '' wood, hay, stubble," and any kind of bone, ex- 
 cept their own. Should such a revolution ever happen, I pray 
 that it may be postponed beyond my day ; else my long, labori- 
 ous attendance on hospitals of maternity, and kindred institutions, 
 will avail me nothing in my anticipated practice among the fair 
 portion of the community of New York. 
 
 Among the plants, that might be termed rare, were one or two 
 specimens of a shrub, which grows wild throughout New England, 
 called Lamb's kill, or Lamb's bane. It made me almost sigh, 
 again to behold it growing on its native hills, where I have so 
 often viewed its showy blossoms in the company of some, alas, 
 whose faces I shall see no more forever. 
 
 Another room contained, among other things, stands of wire- 
 work, and ornamental flower pots. Out of doors were hand 
 pumps for watering. A great curiosity was a piece of Guano, 
 which is just begun to be imported. 
 
 This exhibition on the whole disappointed me extremely. The 
 flowers were quite handsome ; yet their number was small, and 
 their varieties very limited. But France has long been behind- 
 hand in the horticultural art, and it is not to be expected, that 
 enthusiasm and consequent improvement will revive immediately. 
 
138 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 But the same guardian hand, which has for fourteen years done 
 so much to increase the general prosperity of the State, will un- 
 doubtedly continue the noble work so auspiciously commenced. 
 Should life be spared him, we may look with confidence for bet- 
 ter things. 
 
 The habits of the people encourage the cultivation of flowers. j \ 
 
 I never saw a population, who seemed so passionately fond of 
 them. Shut up and imprisoned, as they are, among these old 
 gray walls, the sight of blossoms of the earth have to them a pe- 
 culiar charm. Rigolette of Eugene Sue memory exemplifies tids 
 taste. Every body almost has them, from the rich and noble, 
 whose wealth suppHes them with green-houses and gardens, to 
 the grisette in the garret, who feels more pleasure in spending 
 four or five sous — a quarter of her day's labor — in the purchase 
 of her httle pot of violets, or lady's delight, than her wealthy 
 neighbor does with his superb bouquets of choicest exotics. Tliis 
 petit pot shares the window seat with a sweet rose bush, and they 
 equally divide the attention of their mistress. Ah ! she is quiie 
 happy, when the returning Sunday allows her to promenade with 
 her simple bouquet in her bosom, composed of the two flowers 
 grown on her own little plants at home. 
 
 You remember how the flower girl has been depicted. Such 
 beauty, as has been given her, must have been seen in some vd- 
 gary of the imagination. Go over the whole of Paris, and I chal- 
 lenge a person to find one who is passably pretty. The actual, 
 bona-fide flower girls, are old women, who sit near the bridges or 
 in the crowded streets, engaged in making ugly bouquets, com- 
 posed of about ten little violets, placed in a ring round an artifi- 
 cial rosebush, (now when roses are so rare,) two green leaves out- 
 side, and an envelope of white paper ; all which with a most 
 shocking voice they entreat you to purchase for one sous. This 
 little violet (like the double violet we used to have in our garden 
 at Roxbury) is a very favorite flower, and vast numbers are sold 
 to all classes of people in this one sous form. You may frequently 
 see the workman in his blouse, and the fine lady, purchasing at 
 the same stand together ; and the exquisite promenading with one 
 
HORSE RACING. 139 
 
 in his buttonhole but at a little distance from the poor girl with 
 a huge pack on her back, and the omnipresent bouquet in her 
 bosom. Grisi at her benefit had one thrown to her as laro-e as 
 
 o 
 
 a cabbage. As this was ia the dead of winter, it was very ex- 
 pensive, costing about twenty dollars. 
 
 Sunday, 20th. I have been quite unwell all day with a most 
 violent colic. I was awakened at five in the mornino-, and till 
 eleven was in great pain. At one I arose and dressed ; since 
 then I have suffered only occasional touches. Every body cooks 
 in copper vessels, w*hich however are usually tinned. This wears 
 off gradually, and the first notice of the event, as to-day, comes 
 in the shape of an excruciating colic to all the members of the 
 family. 
 
 Since one o'clock I have been to see the horse races, which com- 
 menced to-day. Yes, it is Sunday, but we must economise in 
 Paris. It costs nothing to go to the race, but the English churches 
 cost a franc. Then, too, one wishes to see the races, and Sunday 
 is the day. The Dukes D'Aumale and De Nemours were there. 
 M. Rothschild was there, and one of his horses beat. More than 
 80,000 other people were there, and the day was Sunday. 
 land of the puritans, that condemns lotteries and horse races ! 
 what think you of the nation, where one is run upon the Sabbath, 
 and the other managed by the church ? No one cares, whether 
 the horse Prince, this or that, Duke B. or C. were \^ctors ; or 
 whether two or three men were thrown off in jumping the fences 
 in the hurdle race. Nobody cares, so I turn my back on the 
 whole matter, and as the fashion goes, condemn the fault, which 
 I have no longer a desire to practise. 
 
 Auber has written a new opera called Barcarolle, which is said 
 not to equal his former ones. Nobody wants to hear it, for they 
 have not yet heard his old ones. There is great talk between 
 the English and Americans in regard to the bellique threats be- 
 tween the two nations. It seems to be the general conclusion, 
 that it is a battle of words, conducted on the principles of Brag. 
 One thing looks squally though, if it is true, as has been aflirmed, 
 that Gen. Thomas Thumb has been sent for by Mr. Polk, and 
 
140 
 
 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 requested to hasten home with his war-horses, uniform and sword. 
 The moment I hear that the General has left the country, I 
 shaU hurry after him with a new set of surgical instruments, be- 
 cause I am certain, there will be something to pay whithei-soever 
 he shall sfo. 
 
 The Fete of the King will take up one day, and then on Sat- 
 urday I go to Versailles, intending to view the Museums and the 
 celebrated "Water Works, which are played very rarely, on ac- 
 count of the immense expense of nearly two thousand dollars a 
 day, as it is asserted. 
 
XXIV. 
 
 Prisons of Paris — St. Pelagie — La Force — Nouvelle Force — Ira 
 Singular Construction — Maison Centrale D'Education Correc- 
 tionnklle remarkable form and peculiar discipline. 
 
 Having a convenient opportunity, I send you another of my 
 letters on the prisons of Paris, to which I some time ago referred. 
 One of them is St. Pelagie, in the Rue de la Clef, and was for- 
 merly a convent of nuns, which, among the convulsions of that 
 terrible epoch, was suppressed with so many others. It has 
 since served as a prison for debtors, till very lately, when it has 
 been used for the confinement of those condemned for a period 
 not exceeding a year, and for political offenders committed for 
 trial, or sentenced for a short time. The latter have distinct 
 apartments from the others, and are not compelled to labor. This 
 old and badly-contrived building is capable of containing five hun- 
 dred and fifty persons, and generally has its complement. The 
 prisoners are all male, and employed in making list shoes, brushes, 
 friction matches, and other things. The food does not differ ma- 
 terially from that in other prisons. Six ounces of meat twice a 
 week are each man's allowance. They perform their ablutions 
 at the fountain in the great court, which also supplies them with 
 abundance of healthy beverage ; and time, that dries the wet 
 eye everj'^where, is here the only napkin after washing. 
 
 I advise every one who steals in France to take something of 
 value ; for money makes a wide distinction in the condition of the 
 prisoner. With silver in his pocket, he can, even when condemn- 
 ed, feed on chickens and the fat of the land ; clothe himself in 
 silks and velvet ; repose upon a couch of down in a private room, 
 furnished with the finest linen sheets, changed as often as once 
 in twenty days at least, and live like a gentleman, that is, do no 
 
 141 
 
142 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 work, unless he wishes, which a gentleman never does, of course. 
 The pitiful sum of six sous a day confers these precious privileges. 
 Indeed, those who have the good fortune to be masters of a nice 
 trade, may earn sufficient by it to purchase these luxuries, and 
 at the same time avoid the severe labors of the penitentiary, which 
 others must undergo. 
 
 There is not such discipline as I expected to find. When I en- 
 tered with the intendant, all the prisoners were talking together 
 in the hall, with no one to oversee their labor. Every person 
 turned to gaze at the stranger, and most of them touched their 
 hats to me. What a striking contrast to the manners in American 
 prisons, where none dares to turn his eyes, or raise them from 
 his work ! There is nothing distinguishing in their dress ; each 
 one retains the clothes he had on entering. When his term of 
 punishment is completed, if the convict has no dress of his own, 
 he is supplied by the government with a suit of clothes, and 
 forthwith consigned to the House of Correction at St. Denis, to 
 work there, till he shall have earned sixty francs to pay for it. 
 
 The only punishment is the dungeon. There are two, com- 
 posed of large rooms with the windows of one partially blind- 
 ed, but still admitting light enough to read with ease. An in- 
 clined plane of boards serves as a bed for the refractory. Bread 
 and water only are granted for the first fifteen days ; afterwards 
 the usual allowance is made. A less ofience is expiated by con- 
 finement in the other cell, which is not so dark as this, where a 
 more nutritious diet, than bread and water are said to be, is pre- 
 scribed. By special permission, the wives of the prisoners are 
 indulo;ed with visits to their husbands in their cells twice a week 
 for several hours. Another order grants the liberty of conversa- 
 tion once or twice a week, according to its terms, in a public 
 room with an officer on guard. Still another certificate confers 
 the privilege to converse in the grated parloirs. 
 
 The prison, called La Force, is made up of buildings part of 
 wliich formerly composed the hotel of the Duke de la Force, and, 
 like all structures which have been diverted from their original 
 design, are more or less inconvenient. In 1780 they were con- 
 verted into a prison for prostitutes ; and about the same tim€ an- 
 
LA NOUVELLE FORCE. 143 
 
 other was erected by its side for a similar purpose. These were 
 united in 1830, the females removed to St. Lazare, and the whole 
 devoted to persons committed for trial. The inmates are classi- 
 fied as follows. Old oflFenders form one class ; those committed 
 for acts of violence, another; old men above sixty, and boys 
 under eighteen, are respectively kept by themselves. The rest 
 are divided into the peaceable and quiet, and turbulent and 
 quarrelsome. In this prison there are no single cells, but the 
 dormitories contain from four to thirty each. No work is re- 
 quired, except of the young boys, to whom a hfe of idleness 
 would be eminently injurious. All may labor, however, who wish ; 
 the work principally done being the manufacture of hst shoes. 
 The sleeping room of the boys is divided into dormitories with a 
 bed for each, which are separated from each other by their parti- 
 tions. The front is latticed, and open on the passage way. The 
 whole structure possesses very httle interest ; — old and incon- 
 venient, it will soon be superseded by La Nouvelle Force, a cellu- 
 lar prison, which is now being erected in the same faubourg de 
 St. Antoine. 
 
 This structure is now in the process of erection upon an entire- 
 ly new plan, at a cost of more than eight hundred thousand 
 dollai-s. Though three years of labor have been bestowed upon 
 it, still it is not sufficiently advanced to convey an adequate notion 
 of its future character. It is to resemble a fan, each stick of 
 which, to the number of seven, will be a wing, and the corridors 
 of all will terminate at a central point, commanding the entire 
 establishment. The sti-ucture is to be three stories in height, and 
 is intended to contain twelve hundred prisoners. Between the 
 wings are to be open courts for the due exercise of the inmates. 
 The point of junction of the united wings on the first floor, is to be 
 used as a place for stripping the prisoners, as they enter, to as- 
 certain that they have no arms or prohibited articles on them. 
 Above will be a chapel, and the doors of each cell will be so 
 adjusted, that the tenants can look upon the priest without being 
 visible to each other. The handle of the fan will comprise the 
 apartments of the superintendent and officers, and the entrance 
 will be at its extremity. 
 
144 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 This, when completed, will be the second cellular prison in 
 Palis. The other can scarcely be called a prison, indeed, for 
 though the persons detained there are kept apart in cells, it is 
 rather a house of correction. This is situated in the rue de la 
 JRoquette, and has the name of Maison Centrale D^ Education 
 Correctionelle, but sometimes spoken of as the Prison des Jeunes 
 Detenus. The form of the building is remarkable, and has, I 
 think, on a hasty reflection, a great many advantages over the 
 numerous other plans on which these institutions have been built. 
 This structure, enclosed within two massive stone walls of im- 
 mense height, is a regular hexagon, with circular turrets at each 
 corner, and four stories high. The apparently diminutive size of 
 the windows, though in reality they are sufficiently large, the cir- 
 cular turrets of ponderous stone, of which material all the build- 
 ing is constructed, and the frequent groups of soldiers around, alto- 
 gether give it the air of a feudal castle, as it lives in our imagination, 
 rather than a stronofhold for convicts. Its internal form cannot 
 be better desciibed, perhaps, than by comparing it to a wheel, 
 the rim of which is formed by the hexagon, the spokes by piles 
 of buildings, which rise from the turreted corners, and converg- 
 ing, though not meeting, but abruptly breaking off, are united 
 with a circular building in the centre by means of iron bridges in 
 each story. Six courts are thus produced of the same shape and 
 size, which, bemg planted with trees, still young, supply a place 
 of exercise for the prisoners. The building in the centre is now 
 used for a chapel ; the rest of the structure is divided into cells. 
 The stairs are all placed in the turrets. 
 
 The convicts are young boys under sixteen, who have been 
 sentenced for petty thefts or vagabondism ; the term of confine- 
 ment being of unequal length, but never extending beyond twenty- 
 one years of their age. Within the last six years, an entire revo- 
 lution has taken place in the government of this institution, Befo:e 
 that time, the youths were classified according to age and size ; 
 and, as much as possible, with reference to the turpitude of their 
 oflFences. These classes were kept so scrupulously distinct, as not 
 to be suffered to see each other : but still, all those of the same 
 class wrought, ate, and played together. It was by and by con- 
 
SOLITARY CONFINEMENT. 145 
 
 ceived, for many reasons ; more particularly from the astounding 
 discovery, that, of one hundred who were liberated at the com- 
 pletion of their term, eighty returned hither, or were sentenced to 
 a similar place ; that the seeds of vice, instead of dying, were 
 only planted in a hot-bed, to germinate and bear a fearfully in- 
 creased harvest of crime. As a matter of experiment, and in 
 the confidence that no worse consequences could possibly ensue, 
 another plan of treatment was adopted, which, at the very out- 
 set, was adapted to strike one as excessively cruel, and, in all 
 probability, productive of effects no less injurious than the for- 
 mer, though of a different nature. Entire seclusion — solitary 
 confinement, for hardened criminals, convicted of the most horri- 
 ble outrages against the laws of God, humanity, and their country 
 — has encountered the opposition of many and most powerful 
 antagonists. They have pronounced it cruel in every vievr, 
 and worse than death ; and there are not a few, who deny that 
 the human mind possesses a capacity to bear up against the 
 awful monotony and oppressive load of perpetual isolation and 
 silence. If such views are held in relation to minds of hardened 
 maturity, how much more plausibly may it be urged against a 
 similar imprisonment of the young, whose feebleness, want of 
 cultivation, and ignorance, combine to disqualify them for sup- 
 porting the utter forlornness of such complete desertion ! 
 
 Looking at such facts, and their alleged consequences, govern- 
 ment has thought to remove these unhappy effects by employing 
 the mind ; thus obtaining all the benefits, without the oppos- 
 ing evils, of solitary confinement. The youth have therefore 
 been placed in a private cell, and detained there not unfrequent- 
 ly four or five years, without a sight of any human face, except 
 occasionally that of a visitor, or his own officers ; never hearing 
 for all that long period the sound of the voice, or witnessing a 
 single feature of his next neighbor, separated from him merely 
 by a distance of little more than a foot. The only circumstance, 
 that can ever vary the wearisome monotony of such a life, is his 
 labor. In his little cell are placed his bed, a chair or two, 
 his work bench and tools. The youthful convict, on entering, is 
 indulged with the choice of one of the twelve trades carried on 
 9 
 
146 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 in the establishment. The different divisions are now merely 
 the different trades, to each of which a master workman is at- 
 tached, who is styled the teacher, whose duty is to instruct the 
 youth in his particular branch. Another teaches reading, writ- 
 ing, and arithmetic, and some have a professor in drawing, or 
 rather, in design. The trades are turning, cabinet work, wood 
 carving, various kinds of iron work, etc. 
 
 The order of the day is somewhat as follows : Rising at seven 
 o'clock, two hours are given to labor before the first meal at nine. 
 The nourishment is much better than in any other prison, as 
 youth, on its passage to manhood, is thought to require a more 
 nutritious diet than a person at maturity. All the bread is white. 
 After breakfast, a space of an hour or two is devoted to study. 
 I saw writing books in some of the cells, which contained very 
 creditable specimens of their accomplishment in that neglected 
 and undervalued branch of the fine arts. A translation of the 
 Penny Magazine was one of their reading books ; this indicates 
 a considerable advance ; for when they enter, scarce a single boy 
 can read a word. An hour in the forenoon, and an equal length 
 of time in the afternoon, are given up to recreation. One would 
 suppose this almost impossible in the case of these solitary be- 
 ings ; but on the contrary, I remarked that those occasions were 
 enjoyed in the true spirit of the grant, and in real earnest. Each 
 boy is sent by himself, for the purpose, into one of the courts ; 
 and there, alone, he engages at once with the elastic alacrity of 
 youth in some spirited juvenile sport, as trundling hoop, and rolling 
 ball. These pastimes are prosecuted with an ardor, which indicates 
 a delight scarcely, if any, less than persons of a similar age expe- 
 rience in mingling with their mates and companions in the diver- 
 sions on the green, free common of a yiHage school. It is a 
 strange sio-ht to observe pleasure and punishment, which in the 
 progress of vice are cast into scenes far asunder, brought here 
 side by side into a single picture. Labor fills up the rest of the 
 day. 
 
XXV. 
 
 Methods of getting a Living among the Poor — Breab — Chiffoniers — 
 
 Dogs. 
 
 There are many ways of getting a liveliliood in Paris. This 
 is not difficult — for those who have education ; but the ignorant 
 and poor are reduced to all sorts of expedients. One, who has 
 ten or fifteen dollars at command, purchases a vehicle mounted 
 on two wheels, with the body suspended on springs. His credit 
 will fill this with commodities of various kinds. Another pro- 
 cures fruits, which he divides into piles, according to the quahty, 
 and sells at different prices. A third gets a supply of paper, 
 blank books, ink, sealing wax, and the "everything" necessary 
 to make one an accomplished writer. A fourth collects glass 
 ware, crockery for the table and kitchen, spoons, knives and 
 forks, and" a dozen other articles, starts on a pilgrimage, and 
 offers everything he has at the same price. Being blessed with 
 fine lungs, all these make themselves heard at an immense dis- 
 tance, the high shrill tones of the women making full compensa- 
 tion for any want of force, A slight nasality proves very 
 attractive to customers. Tous les articles du bureau pour huit 
 sous! Tout quit faut pour la cuisine pour dix sous! Voyez 
 mesdames ! And so they go, making a confounded, everlasting 
 clatter under one's windows all day long. With the aid of a 
 candle enveloped in red paper, the same clamorous traffic is 
 continued till ten o'clock at night. But what is the commotion, 
 yonder? Look! The ambulatory shop, which has been be- 
 sieged for a long time at the corner of the street by spectators 
 and purchasers — ^none are too proud to buy of them — is suddenly 
 darting away at a speed, which threatens destruction to its 
 
 147 
 
148 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES, 
 
 fragile commodities. What is the mighty cause ? Do you see 
 two men in black dresses and white buttons, with cocked hat 
 and sword, just entering the street ? With what a self-import- 
 ant gait they walk! Those are gentlemen of the police. The 
 law forbids these perambulating merchants to stop, and these are 
 the officers to enforce its sanctions. The penalty is fine, and 
 confiscation of the goods. 
 
 Begging is another method. This being prohibited, innumer- 
 able artifices are in use to evade the law. In the portals of the 
 churches, old men and women sit with a brush wet with holy 
 water, and expect a sous or two for their trouble. On the 
 bridge called Pont des Arts, sits a blind old woman with a roll 
 or two of pencils before her. Give her a sous, and take or leave 
 a pencil, as you please. She prefers the latter. Sometimes one 
 is accosted a dozen times an hour by persons, who have a paper- 
 cutter, on a quarter-quire of paper, which they pray you to buy 
 for the love of Heaven, and in mercy for many starving wives 
 and children at home. Hand-organs, wonderful infantine pro- 
 digies, who play marvellously on wretched fiddles and harps^ 
 accompanying their instrumentation with voices, calling on the ( 
 spirits of the high notes of a song, but which refuse to come i 
 
 when called, A few days ago, in the court of a respectable 
 house, I heard a strange noise, which no fancy in fine frenzy roll- 
 ing on my part was able to manufacture into music. On exam- 
 ination, I found it was a man who owned good lungs, if he had 
 no ear. Unable to procure a crank-going instrument, and lack- 
 ing skill to perform on any other, he had got a French horn, and 
 through this he was blowing a hurricane, till the occupants of 
 the chambers should be willing to capitulate. 
 
 Connected with the musical line of business is the Block-tin 
 cock seller. This branch of trade is much greater here than in 
 America, arising principally, as I judge, from the fact, that all 
 the water drunk, comes from the river Seine, which, being turbid,, 
 requires filtration. Every family is therefore provided with an 
 instrument for the purpose, whose cocks are frequently getting 
 out of repair. This itinerant carries on his shoulders a sort of 
 monument-shaped contrivance, composed of an odd mixture of 
 
 I 
 
WAYS OF LIVING. 149 
 
 bright tin, and red or some other showy colored velvet. This 
 contains numerous perforations, into which is thrust his mer- 
 chandise. To draw attention to his wares, he carries a trumpet, 
 which he blows with very little cessation. A handsome young 
 merchant passes by my apartments almost daily, who plays 
 several tunes, and really quite skilfully. 
 
 Another of the sounding brass and tinkling cymbal race are the 
 water carriers on a large scale. These have hogsheads mounted 
 on wheels, and drawn by a horse. They go round the streets 
 with a metallic pail on their heads. A loud noise is easily made 
 with the iron bale. The small merchants have two pails, which 
 they fill from the aqueducts at the corners of the streets, and 
 empty into the filters for a sous apiece ; no charge made for 
 the mud deposited by their sabots on the entries and floors. 
 
 An interesting man is he, who is met at every step, making 
 known by loud cries, that he is a marchand-d'' hahit. A much 
 more appropriate term is old-clothes-man. He buys and sells 
 every article of dress. At night he carries the remains to the 
 *' Temple," where his wife patches them up, makes them as good 
 as new, and sells them herself, while he is abroad seeking for 
 more. One of them has just passed my window. Behind is an 
 old lame woman bearing a long pole, from which silken cords 
 are suspended. Not the cords of Hymen, ladies, but equally 
 near to your bosoms. They are stay-lacings. Immediately in 
 the rear comes a porter, who, with a frame and basket, applied 
 with straps to his shoulders, is lugging some four or five hundred 
 pounds of wood and coal into the fifth story of the opposite 
 house. How dexterously that young woman balances the basket, 
 containing perhaps a gross of eggs, upon her head ! She threads 
 her way through the crowd quite calmly. I'll watch and see 
 how she will contrive to give the nod of recognition to her ac- 
 quaintance, for she will not be lacking in politeness. So, she is 
 gone — but here comes a woman with lamp shades. Mercy ! 
 what a screeching ! 0, " cease rude Boreas !" To what base 
 uses are the limbs of woman, by nature delicate, applied ! There 
 is one, for example, coming yonder, bending under the weight 
 of an omnibus wheel of the largest size ! Why, the women of 
 9* 
 
150 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 my own country would not put their fingers to a spinning-wheel 
 even, though they knew that they could thereby spin out a 
 longer thread of life ; which would be the result, if they had the 
 good sense to revive some of the obsolete habits of their grand- 
 mothers. Besides, women are not made Venuses by idleness in 
 America, any more than by excessive labor in France. 
 
 At the corner of a street one sees a box, on the top of which 
 is a raised block of the size of the foot, having about the same 
 resemblance to that member in man, as the print did, which 
 Robinson Crusoe discovered in the sand. That worthy, if I 
 recollect aright, was so astonished at the curiosity, that he put 
 his foot into it. It is altogether probable, when you notice this 
 singular appearance in the street, that you will be tempted to 
 follow his laudable example. If you should, the moment you 
 place your foot upon the stand, you will find an astonishing 
 brilliancy come over it, and what is more, that you have three 
 sous to pay. 
 
 Perhaps one of the most perfect, luxuries yet discovered, is to 
 be found at the operas and ball-rooms. Many a man prefers 
 walking to these places to riding at twenty-five cents the trip. I 
 shall not stop to account for a freak of taste ; de gustihus non. 
 He does not, however, wish to enter with unpolished boots. And 
 he need not, but on the contrary, his embarrassment is converted 
 into a novel source of positive pleasure. In a small room attach- 
 ed to the establishment, he is directed to mount a step or two, 
 place himself in a velvet-covered seat, and put his feet on two 
 stands — a position of sweet repose — and a newspaper is then 
 handed him to read. Two persons, one for each boot, soon oblit- 
 erate the spots, and put him on an equal footing with those who 
 have come in a vehicle. Thus he has escaped a perplexity, and 
 enjoyed a Turkish luxury beside — this is a clear gain. The two 
 females, who once performed this agreeable office for me, as I 
 was giving to Madame, the proprietress of the brushes and black- 
 ing, my gratuity of three sous, anxiously hoped, that I would not 
 forget the gargon. Connected with this are the Cabinets d'aisance, 
 equally cheap. 
 
 In the United States, every body makes more or less bread. In 
 
BREAD. IM 
 
 Paris, and, I believe in France generally, this devolves on the 
 bakers entirely. Hot biscuits are unknown. Bread is of diflfer- 
 ent qualities, and the price is fixed twice a month by the govern- 
 ment. This depends on the price of grain, and is of course 
 exceedingly variable. The regulation is undoubtedly introduced 
 for the benefit of the poorer classes, that they may not be com- 
 pelled by avaricious dealers to pay an exorbitant sum. Every 
 baker in Paris is obliged to keep constantly deposited in the 
 Orenier de Reserve twenty full sized sacks of flour. This store- 
 house is of immense size, and was built by order of Napoleon to 
 contain sufficient grain for four months' consumption of the city. 
 In addition to this quantity, the bakers have frequently a good deal 
 more deposited there, for the storage of which they pay a mod- 
 erate charge. The cellars contain wine. This vast granary is 
 much smaller than it was at first intended to be. The original 
 plan of building it five stories high, beside the ground floor, was 
 abandoned in 1816. Being then in an unfinished state — the 
 ground floor only completed — it was roofed, and divided into three 
 stories. It is two thousand one hundred and sixty feet long by 
 sixty four wide, and thirty-two high. 
 
 Bread is baked in loaves of two and four pounds, and also in 
 the form of rolls for breakfast. It is of various degrees of coht 
 sistence and character, but always good. The loaves have a pe- 
 culiar shape. A two pound loaf is nearly two and a half feet 
 long. The four pound loaf is twice this length, but doubled on 
 itself. One eats by long measure — a foot and a half sufficing 
 most for breakfast. A nobleman might require two of the large 
 loaves, making a complete heroic metre ; while for the Royal 
 Family, the needful Alexandrine must 
 
 " drag its slow length along." 
 
 The loaves are placed upon a frame, similar to that which is used 
 to transport wood, and borne on the backs of women to the reg- 
 ular customers, where it is deposited in chairs, on the floor, like 
 a cane in the corner, or elsewhere, as may be most convenient ; 
 it being the general opmion that it cannot, by any possibility, be 
 
152 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 soiled. At meals, it is circulated from one to another, each cut- 
 ting off a piece as large as may be desired. 
 
 A class of inhabitants peculiar to Paris, as a distinct and nu- 
 merous body, is the Chiffonier, or rag collector. It is composed 
 of both sexes ; their business, as their name imports, is the 
 collection of small pieces of cloth, metal, and other matters, 
 possessing the least value. The streets are swept every morning 
 before six o'clock, and the citizens are prohibited from placing 
 ashes, or any dirt, in them, between this hour and eight in the 
 evening. The chiffonier collects his stores from this refuse ; it is, 
 therefore, necessarily done in the night. His appearance is sin- 
 gular. Clad in the dirtiest of dirty garments, with a basket on 
 his back, and a lantern in his hand, he reminds me strongly of 
 Diogenes seeking an honest man ; with the addition, however, of 
 a basket to put him in, which the philosopher did not take, be- 
 cause he had no expectation of finding one. In the other hand 
 he grasps a styik, equipped at its farther extremity with a crook- 
 ed nail ; thus he wanders about the streets. He regards not 
 the passers by. He never deviates from his path. In fact, he 
 is a sort of prince, for all turn out for him. With downcast eyes, 
 (not from humility, for however lowly his lot, he is not Avanting 
 in self-respect, and even pride,) he seeks for hidden treasures 
 Every heap of filth is a mine of unknown riches, which he is to 
 open and work. He pokes it over with his stick, catches with 
 his hook every piece of paper — it may be a bill of the Bank of 
 France, he says — every rag, of however small dimensions, and 
 tosses it over his shoulder. See him, now. He has found a 
 prize in the heap just at the corner of the street. He picks it 
 up, and rubs it on his coat sleeve, that he may the better observe 
 its value. What is it ? From my vrindow I cannot easily see, 
 but I think it is an old broken trunk lock that I threw away this 
 morning, or a fragment of a shovel. No matter — it is too valu- 
 able to be contemptuously consigned to his basket ; so he slips 
 it into a bag at his side — the receptacle of articles of worth. His 
 business endins: with the nio-ht, he retires to rest with the man of 
 fashion at the break of dawn. His dreams, however, are not 
 
CHIFFONIER'S DREAM. 153 
 
 disturbed by the indigestion of pates, or the fever of champagne, 
 ■which trouble the young fashionable. 0, no ! He fancies himself 
 the favorite of fortune, which has transmuted his trunk lock 
 into a golden lantern, and his old shovel into a silver rag-hook. 
 In his dream, he is transported, not to any voluptuous palace on 
 the lake of Como, such as Claude Melnotte so beautifully de- 
 scribes — far pleasanter visions soothe his slumber. Imagination 
 takes him to the side of some extensive dirt heap, pregnant with 
 the rich sweepings of a tailor's shop. 
 
 I must, though with sorrow, leave this poetical picture for the 
 humble walks of prose, though not forgetting, that from the 
 stained contents of the chiflfonier's basket comes the smooth 
 billet, qui me prie de faire Vhonneur de venir passer la soiree, 
 where wit sparkles and beauty enchants. 
 
 The receipts of this interesting personage amount to about 
 twenty cents a day. Occasionally an article of real value is 
 found, for which he rarely seeks the owner, preferring to pocket 
 the entire proceeds, arising from its sale, to the small fraction 
 thereof offered as a reward. Some days ago, a student in medi- 
 cine, discovering one of this calling sitting on the trottoir with 
 his face bound up, and evidently in pain, inquired the cause. 
 He was answered very gruffly, that it was the tooth-ache, which 
 occasioned this suspension of his labors. He told the man, that, 
 if he would come to his apartments the next (Sunday) morning, 
 he would extract it gratis. At the appointed hour a stranger 
 was ushered in, clothed in a suit of black, a fresh- lookingr hat, 
 gloves, and well polished boots, whom he did not once mistrust 
 to be the crabbed chiffonier, whom he encountered the previous 
 evening. It was, notwithstanding, the veritable man, who, when 
 making an appointment that morning with another gentleman of 
 his own class to visit the Louvre, and inspect the new paintings, 
 placed there recently, observed, that he had a previous engage- 
 ment with his dentist. 
 
 The stranger, especially if he has lived where mad dogs are 
 in vogue, and the race is heavily taxed, is astonished at their fre- 
 quency in this capital. Paris coulains more puppies, reckoning 
 all descriptions, than any other city, perhaps, in the world. Every 
 
154 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 body has a dog of some kind. The fashionable lady rarely walks, 
 or rides abroad, without her favorite to accompany her. The rich 
 have a leveret, a small animal of the greyhound species, origina- 
 ting in Italy. The poor have such as they can get. I have 
 seen several, that equalled in size the ponies of Gen. Tom Pouce, 
 the distinguished representative of American dignity at the foreign 
 coui-ts, who is reported to be kissed so much by this kissible and 
 kissing nation, as to be compelled to protect his cheeks and 
 lips with a mask of goldbeater's sJdn, graciously sent him by 
 her Majesty Queen Victoria. This mark of her anxious inter- 
 est in the health of this renowned warrior is the more valuable, 
 since, according to rumor, it has been shown at the expense of 
 incuning the jealousy of the hero of Waterloo. I trust, that no 
 one will imagine by the accidental mention of this distinguished 
 Yankee, in connection with puppydom, that I dream of class- 
 ifying him with these pets. Certainly not. Private opinions 
 must yield to circumstances. That which, at home, I might 
 incline to censure, is here, with ardent nationahty, upheld and 
 praised. In Paris, every American pronounces Gen. Jackson a 
 hero, greater in every respect than Napoleon, or any other per- 
 son who ever lived. If they say any thing regarding cotton bags, 
 we immediately retort, that he diflPers but little from the French 
 themselves — that if he used breast-works, French women do the 
 same — the difference being, that h.e. fought behind them, whereas 
 they surrender — ** at discretion." No ; Tyler is a man of probity 
 and consistency ; Bobby, the greatest linng poet, not excepting 
 Prince Albert himself; and Polk a Cincinnatus, called from the 
 plough-tail, to tell a tale to old Europe, now in her second child- 
 hood, which makes all its members tremble. We insist, and 
 satisfactorily prove too, that the republic is our mother country : 
 for within three months, she has brougrht into the world two 
 states at a birth, and is already far gone with two more. 
 
 But revenons a nos moutons — the phrase is good, since dogs 
 are frequently served up for muttons. These dogs are generally 
 muffled, when large, and all are confined by a cord around the 
 neck, which, as one is walking, is often also found around his 
 legs. If a man wishes to insult another, or wreak his spite 
 
DOGS AND DOGGEREL. 155 
 
 against him, he kicks his dog. If you desire to speak to a pretty 
 woman, whom you do not know, stumble over the dog, attempt 
 to soothe his barking, take off yourhat, bow three times to 
 the snarhng, ugly brute, and the heart of the lady is won. Wind 
 the cord adroitly around your legs — do it quickly, while she is 
 gazing at the goods in the shop window — and you can be as 
 long as you desire in " getting out of the scrape." If he quarrels 
 with 'another dog, and is thrown down into the gutter, take him 
 up carefully — never mind the white kids — and wipe him with 
 your cambric. This last was never known to fail. " Love me, 
 love my dog," is of French origin. This is part of what is 
 called the dog exercise, and is almost as curious an art, as that 
 of the fan in Madrid. Poets may talk of the beauty of women, 
 when " floating in the mazes of the giddy waltz," or at the do- 
 mestic fireside darning stockings, the dear creatures never appear 
 so interesting, as when exhibiting the sublime \irtues of ** pati- 
 ence, loving-kindness, and tender mercy," while they stand 
 awaiting the pleasure of this sweet animal busily occupied at the 
 the side of a house, or by a lamp-post. 
 
 The end of the sheet admonishes me to conclude this doggerel 
 description of some of the peculiarities of Parisians and their 
 habits. In a future letter I may resume the thread of my narra- 
 tive, unless you find the subjects are already worn thread-bare. 
 
XXVI. 
 
 Hospital La Charite — Gerdy — Axdral — Rater — Cruveilhier — Fou- 
 
 QLIER BOUILLARD CoURSE OF MeDICAL StUDY IN PaRIS AND AMERI- 
 CA COMPARED — Importance of a special attention to a single 
 Branch — Difficulties of American Physicians — The French and 
 American Practitioner contrasted — American Students at Paris. 
 
 When speaking of Velpeau in a former letter, I incidentally 
 mentioned the hospital La Charite. This is one of the most im- 
 portant of these institutions, and at the same time one of the old- 
 est. This its time-worn and dilapidated appearance fully attest. 
 The same renovating hand, which is employed on many of the 
 other pubhc buildings, is also engaged in re-constructing and mod- 
 ifying this. There is little in its history worthy of mention, 
 except that it was foimded by Marie de Medicis, in 1613, for a 
 community of Monks, who discharged the double duties of physi- 
 cians and priests. It contains 530 beds, which are appropriated 
 to all sorts of disease, the class of patients diflferuig not mu 3h 
 from those received at the Hotel-Dieu. Mons. Gerdy assists 
 Velpeau in the care of the surgical patients. Being wholly in- 
 dependent of his profession, he is not obliged to seek for prac- 
 tice, which perhaps he might not obtain, if he did ; his bluff, sar- 
 castic manners creating many enemies. His personal appearance 
 is not more prepossessing. His continually contracted forehead, 
 and heavy, lowering eye-brows, add not to the beauty of a dark- 
 skinned, hard-featured countenance. As a -vNTiter, he occupies a 
 fair position, possessing the merit of good arrangement and per- 
 spicuity. His judgment, one would be apt to consider faulty, 
 had he witnessed some operations lately performed by him, which 
 many present considered not only useless, but as hurrying his 
 patients out of the world. The physicians are Andral, K:iyer, 
 
 156 
 
157 BOUILLARD.— RAYER. 
 
 Cniveilhier, Fouquier, and Bouillard. The first three are well 
 known in the Unifed States by their numerous works, which have 
 been there translated. 
 
 Without exception, these same three gentlemen are much less 
 followed in the wards, than the other two. Fouquier is the pri- 
 vate physician of the King, and his class is much the largest. 
 This is very much owing to his gentlemanly manners, in addition 
 to his acuteness in detecting the nature of disease. His grey 
 hairs, or rather white locks, have brought wisdom with them. 
 Mons. Bouillard, in personal appearance, resembles Benjamin 
 Pierce, the distinguished mathematician of Cambridge Univer- 
 sity. When I saw him first, I was struck with the similitude, 
 and followed him, from curiosity to ascertain, if their intellectual 
 developments corresponded. Although pursuing a different 
 branch of science, I found that Bouillard was not deficient in the 
 good judgment, fine reasoning, and correct deduction, which 
 distinguish so highly my old instructor in mathematics. His 
 bedside remarks are exceedingly interesting and improving, and 
 I strongly urge every student to follow him. His number of 
 pupils, not being so large as many of the other general physi- 
 cians, enables one to see the patient, and sometimes to examine 
 the disease in person. Mons. Rayer, author of a work on the 
 diseases of the skin, with his lofty, bulky person, will clear his 
 own way in the world. He needs no trumpeter. The stentorian 
 voice, with which he interrogates his patients, and prescribes for 
 their wants, will speak for him, and will leave a record of him- 
 self, ringing in the ears of the poor sick, which will perpetuate 
 his memory to the end of their lives. 
 
 The method of studying medicine in Paris is very different 
 from that pursued in America. In some respects it is better, and 
 inferior in others. There is none, or next to none, of what is 
 called office study ; and indeed very little study of books any- 
 where. Many students finish their entire course with scarcely 
 ever having looked at a medical work. The cost is also far less, 
 and the opportunity for deception in regard to the time em- 
 ployed, almost impossible. In the United States, a certificate of 
 
158 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 three years' study is not unfrequently obtained, by a novitiate, 
 for a few dollars. No such certificates are here required. The 
 Government regulates that matter most admirably. Each stu- 
 dent is required to inscribe his name with the secretary, and his 
 time commences at that period. Duiing his term of four years, 
 he is obliged to pass five examinations, and to pay a small sum 
 to the Government, I think about ten dollars for each, the whole 
 expenses for four years' study and degree, being nearly two hun- 
 dred dollars. Every branch of study has a particular examination. 
 The student previously applies himself solely to this, and without 
 difficulty, of course, can make himself master of it. In the 
 United States, on the contrary, there is but one examination, and 
 that at the end of three years' study in every branch at the same 
 time. The preparation for this is extremely difficult. The over- 
 loaded brain is distracted with the vain attempt to recall the 
 minutice of every department of the science. 
 
 This reminds me of an advantaore, which is not connected with 
 the study, so much as the practice of medicine and surgery in 
 the large cities of Eui'ope, suggesting one reason why the Euro- 
 pean physicians are more profound scholars than the American. 
 It is because the immense number of the inhabitants of their 
 cities allows the study and practice of specialties. The science 
 of medicine is so very comprehensive, as to prohibit one from 
 undei-standing the whole of it perfectly in all its branches and 
 details. The possibility of taking one branch, that to which the 
 taste of the man is most disposed, and pursuing this to the com- 
 parative neglect of the others, allows an approach to perfection in 
 it. Do you ask, why Roux and Velpeau and Lisfranc are such 
 distinguished surgeons ? Why Dubois is the first accoucheur in 
 Paris ? Why Louis and Chomel and Fouquier are at the head 
 of the physicians ? The answer is easy. They have each taken 
 one branch and pursued it, aiming at perfection and attaining an 
 approximation to it. Look at the poor man in America, at the 
 same time, physician, surgeon, accoucheur, attempting to be 
 skilful in operations on the eyes and ears, percussion and auscu^ 
 tation, the diseases of women and infants. The intellect of a 
 
STUDY OF MEDICINE IN PARIS. 159 
 
 Solomon is not sufficiently compreliensive to grasp the whole 
 circle, even with the years of Methuselah. How much less an 
 inferior mind and a feeble memory ! 
 
 Arguing in this manner, I have assumed myself, according to 
 my own taste and powers, a special branch of study, and have 
 striven to avail myself of all that France can furnish on that par- 
 ticular subject ; I trust not without some success. Whether the 
 new world will give encouragement to such a procedure, time 
 will determine. Be it remembered, that no man can attain to 
 great knowledge on one division with ignorance upon the others. 
 The whole science of medicine and surgery is so intimately 
 woven together, that he, who is not well versed in the principles 
 of each branch, must necessarily be deficient in some fundamental 
 and all-important particular in his own specialty. The study of 
 a specialty does not therefore imply a less degree of information ; 
 on the contrary, it requires more, far more, But I am wander- 
 ing far from the subject that I commenced. Pardon this digres- 
 sion. 
 
 Although there is but little book study, it does not follow, that 
 there is less real attention paid. There is more practical infor- 
 mation obtained, than by the office student of the United States. 
 The knowledge is obtained at the bedside on the morning visit 
 to the hospitals of the first physicians of the country. The clin- 
 ique upon the cases, points out to the student the peculiarities 
 of the disease, the resemblances it has to others, its cause, 
 probable termination, and treatment. These are very often 
 written down, and many thus make for themselves manuscript 
 books of theory, comprising information derived from the very 
 highest sources. This is far better than a treatise on the subject, 
 inasmuch as the stndent can compare his own observation of the 
 disease with the opinion and description of one, whose judgment 
 he esteems and venerates. However imperfect may be his notes, 
 having seen the patient himself, his ideas of the disease are much 
 clearer than any description, minute and perfect though it may 
 be, of the same disease, which he had not actually seen. The 
 man who has read an ever so good delineation of Swiss scenery, 
 has an idea, more or less vague, of its extent, color, beauty and 
 
160 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 grandeur. But the traveler, who has seen himself these majes- 
 tic peaks, though half obscured with clouds, and with eyes al- 
 mt)st blinded with falling snow or chilling winds, when reading, 
 after the lapse of many years, his own imperfect notes, written 
 with benumbed fingers by the dim light of a cottage fire, and 
 half asleep, has a far more ^dvid conception of that splendid 
 panorama. This imperfect simile but faintly illustrates, how lit- 
 tle the uneducated student observes even of the prominent char- 
 acteristics of disease. Yet this little is worth more than whole 
 pages of description. Would that the American physician were 
 adequately encouraged in his toil ! Some few are, it is true, but 
 ah ! how many, after years consumed at college in laying a basis, 
 and years more afterwards in building the superstructure, live 
 but to see some ignorant blacksmith rolling in wealth, derived 
 from the sale of a nostrum ! Yes, so long as the world seizes 
 with such eagerness every new pill, which professes to raise the 
 dead ; as long as homoeopathy, magnetism, hydropathy, " laces," 
 are in vogue ; so long as the laws of the country sufi'er quacks 
 and charlatans of every description to live in a state of piracy 
 against the world, robbing and killing all, who come in their way, 
 or are allured by a false flag ; so long as these ignoramuses, or 
 something worse, are sustained, and allowed to collect their ex- 
 orbitant exactions for poisons sold under the protection and by 
 the help of the law's strong arm — while these exist, it cannot be 
 expected, that American physicians will devote their energies to 
 such an extent, as to rival the French in their attainments, who 
 are not protected merely, but spurred on, and animated, by the 
 " powers that be." 
 
 Apart from this, the American physician, with all the good 
 will he may enjoy, labors under insuperable embarrassments, 
 which, in the present condition of the social state, it is impossible 
 to surmount. Theory is excellent, and not only excellent, but 
 necessary. Still, without practice, it is nothing. This is the rea- 
 son, why the young physician is inferior to the old, though his 
 head is stuffed with book information to the crown of his hat. 
 The hospital is the place for supplying this deficiency. But the 
 small institutions of the United States are greatly inferior to liie 
 
 I 
 
FRENCH AND AMERICAN DOCTORS. 161 
 
 Parisian, not only in their numbers, but in the character of the 
 people who resort to them, and the difference of their respective 
 sensibilities. This inferiority, which attaches to the American, as 
 a patient, exalts him however as a human being. In the United 
 States it is not the poor and miserable generally, who come thith- 
 er ; such as have not, and never had a penny in their purses. 
 But it is those, who have the ability to pay three dollars a week 
 for their board. Such persons say, they are willing to describe 
 their complaints, show their tongues, and allow their pulses to 
 be felt by the physicians, but not by twenty or thirty inquisitive, 
 ignorant students. " I pay my board, and do not wish my pri- 
 vacy to be intruded on." For three years I was living in differ- 
 ent hospitals of the United States, and well know the feeling 
 which prevails. The women of America of the lowest classes'^ 
 even those whose hves, one would suppose, must have extin- 
 guished this feeling entirely, have a dehcacy and repugnance, 
 quite unknown to any class of Parisians. Then- description of 
 many diseases is imperfect, and many prefer even death itself to 
 allowing a physician worthy of confidence to examine ocularly 
 the nature of their malady. The French woman, on the con- 
 trary, knows nothing at all of this queasy sensibility. She has 
 no- hesitation, not only to describe, but to permit her physician to 
 see every complaint. This is particularly to be observed at the 
 midwifery hospitals, a description of which I reserve for another 
 letter. In this respect, therefore, the Paris educated physician 
 enjoys superior advantages to the homebred man. 
 
 Every patient who enters a hospital is, in a certain degree. 
 Government property, and, not only through life, but even after 
 death, is subject, in some sense, to the control of the physician. 
 Thus science is benefited by the post-mortem examination,' 
 which IS made of every disease that is marked with anythino- 
 peculiar, whether objected to by friends, or not. Among Amerf- 
 can citizens, extraordinary horror is felt on this subject, and great 
 opposition made by the *friends of a deceased person to such 
 an exammation. Fortunately this squeamishness is every year 
 less strong, and gradually wearing away. The community are 
 
162 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 beginning to see the advantages flowing from an inquisition after 
 death, not only as it concerns the physician, but because it sheds 
 light on the peculiar constitution of a family. This knowledge 
 serves to put the descendants on their guard against the special 
 causes, which may excite the latent germ of a similar complaint, 
 that may be slumbering in their systems ; or, what is equally 
 needed, to dispel fears, and quiet apprehensions, which, if al- 
 lowed to be cherished, might of themselves awaken the very evils 
 that were apprehended. 
 
 The hospitals furnish so large a supply of subjects, that the 
 chirurgeon has the facihties to make himself perfectly familiar 
 with surgery and operative anatomy. 
 
 These are the advantages, not trivial, which the Paris School 
 affords ; but it is not without its defects and disadvantaores. Hav- 
 ing such opportunities to witness diseases in all theii' forms and 
 modifications, and such facilities after, death of ascertaining the 
 correctness of their conjectures, the medical body in this country 
 generally have fallen into an error, and a serious one. They 
 have directed their attention and energies to discovering the na- 
 ture of disease, and that at the expense of the treatment. The 
 EngUsh and American have equally erred upon the opposite side. 
 They have directed their zeal to the treatment, neglecting the di- 
 agnosis. To any reasonable person it must be apparent, that to 
 discover the character of the disease, without knowinor how to 
 treat it is useless ; and also that treating a patient without know- 
 ing what the malady is, is a kind of charlatanry. It is a combin- 
 ation of the two acquisitions which makes the accomplished 
 practitioner. This is not to be attained by any one who allows 
 himself to become a partisan of either school. Indeed, the ad- 
 vice which the celebrated Marshal Hall, the most distinguished 
 physician of London, and perhaps of England, gave to a coun- 
 tryman of mine, is full of sound sense, and shows that the opin- 
 ion, which I have advanced, is that of the highest authorities in 
 medical topics. " Go to France, to Paris," said he, " and study 
 diagnosis, and then come back to England and learn practice." 
 This is the advice that all candid men of real information will give. 
 
AMERICAN STUDENTS IN PARIS. 
 
 Indeed, the names of fifty American physicians, which I have, 
 who are here for the purpose of perfecting themselves in their 
 science, coming from every State almost in the Union, is conclu- 
 sive evidence of American opinion. Those who imagine that the 
 obtaining of a degree denotes the end of study, of course will 
 say that it is useless ; but those who consider that they have 
 then but entered the threshold only, will look upon it in a far 
 different light. 
 
 These fifty young Americans may be seen wherever anything, 
 which appertains to the science, is to be learned. The best seats 
 in Velpeau's amphitheatre have the name of American seats, as 
 they are always filled by the Yankees, who have gone and occu- 
 pied them long before the lecture commences, in order to secure 
 them. The skilful and intelligent instructors, who have what are 
 called "private courses," are mainly paid by Americans, whose 
 generally short stay prevents their attending to the courses given 
 by the faculty, as they are extended through too great a length 
 of time ; some of them indeed last several years. From sunrise 
 to sunset, literally speaking, they are engaged in the close and ar- 
 duous study of their profession. The evening recreations of operas 
 and visits, are very often given up to continue their scientific pur- 
 suits. Where they have studied one hour in America, they study 
 two here. The few hours that are given for recreation, are no 
 more than exhausted nature, and the fatigued brain, demand. 
 
 The physicians of the hospitals give the American superior ad- 
 vantages to other students, even to their own. They reason upon 
 this principle. The " United States is more than three thousand 
 miles distant. These young men have come this great distance 
 to a country, whose manners, customs, and language are differ- 
 ent from their own. They visit us at a great expense. Why 
 have they put themselves to such peril and inconvenience, placed 
 themselves in such a disagreeable position, often without the 
 power of speaking and comprehending in a foreign country ; 
 and subjected themselves to the necessity of expending so largely 
 for their indispensable wants ? It is because they are resolved to 
 investigate the science, which they have commenced, under the 
 
164 
 
 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 best advantages, and to make themselves thorough masters of it. 
 I will second such devotion. The doors of my hospital shall be 
 open to them, and they shall have encouragement in prosecuting 
 their investigations." The standing of those who have been 
 here before us, warrant such a belief, and such conduct on their 
 part. May the future show, that the present generation have 
 not "fallen from their high estate," and are not inferior to their 
 predecessors. 
 
XXVII. 
 
 Celebration of the King's Birth-dat. 
 
 The tumult is over ; the hubbub has ceased ; the last rocket 
 has long since exploded ; the falling rain has undoubtedly ex- 
 tinguished the only remaining lamp, which illuminated the gar- 
 dens, and the populace have returned to their labor. In short, 
 the Fete de Roi, the anniversary of the birth of Louis Philippe is 
 past. Like the calm that succeeds the storm, an unusual still- 
 ness reigns throughout the city. This very natural effect is no 
 doubt deepened by the gloomy weather, which has followed, as 
 a shadow, the brilUant sunshine, which yesterday shone so pro- 
 pitiously. 
 
 The fetes in France are more quiet and orderly than formerly. 
 The disorder of preceding years is attributable to the fact, that 
 food of various kinds, and wine, used to be served to the public 
 by the king. Hogsheads of the latter were placed in the public 
 squares, with dippers attached, and any one who was athirst, 
 might go, and drink as much, and as often as he desired. At 
 the coronation of Napoleon, it is related, thatthe Fountain of the 
 Innocents, in one of the market places, ran wine throughout the 
 day. Such freedom could not but be abused, and excess with 
 all the natural consequences, was universal. Louis Philippe, 
 seeing the hazardous results, wisely put a stop to the practice. 
 Provisions, no longer distributed promiscuously, are given to the 
 poor at their rooms. The effects of this are very evident. Now, 
 even on the days of fetes, a person intoxicated is rarely seen. 
 Drunkenness, indeed, is not near so common, as in any of the 
 cities of the United States, even where the teetotal societies are 
 prevalent. Those societies are not known here. Everybody 
 
 165 
 
166 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 drinks, not only their light wines, but brandies and stronger 
 liquors, and usually with discretion. 
 
 Deputations from all classes of people waited yesterday upon 
 the king to wish him health and happiness, and many joyous re- 
 turns of this his natal day. Fetes are not for the rich and 
 powerful, but the poor ; we will therefore leave the palace 
 behind us, and accompany the crowd to the great square of the 
 Champs Elysees. The way conducts us through the gardens of 
 the Tuilleries, and as the immense multitude obstruct rapid loco- 
 motion, we linger beside the basins of water, and admire the jet, 
 which glitters in the sunbeams, the numerous gold and silver fish 
 which sport in the ripples, and the merry faces of the children, 
 who stand around, feeding the pretty sparkling finny creatures 
 with bread and cake crumbs. When fatigued with this, we turn 
 to another scene, where the graceful swan floats lightly, as a snow- 
 flake on the blue water, arching his long neck to collect the dona- 
 tions cast to him. Before us a most magnificent prospect opens. 
 Round us, and before us, far as the eye can reach, a double row 
 of trees fine the long avenue ; — the elm with pendent limbs, and 
 the horse-chestnut, now in the pride of its beauty. By constant 
 pruning and attention, their symmetry is rendered perfect. The 
 branches, which, when bare and leafless in winter, have such an 
 air of prudery, now clothed in gay attire, and adorned with their 
 finely contrasted blossoms, present a rare object of elegance. 
 At the extremity of this grand avenue, two or three miles before 
 us, relieved by a back ground of remote blue hills, stands the 
 pride of art, the proud Arc de Triomphe de VEtoile, one hundred 
 and fifty-two feet in height, seeming even at this distance, still 
 more immense. Nearer to us, surrounded by golden lamps, rises 
 the obelisk of Luxor, appearing to pierce the great arch of the 
 Arc de Triomphe. The remainder of the way to the great porte 
 of the palace is embellished by a host of marble statues of great 
 value. It is the sight of such beauties and objects of splendid 
 luxury, as these, which surround and grace the palaces of mon- 
 archs, that can alone awaken in my bosom any love for royalty. 
 
 But, while we loiter here, the amusements of the day are com- 
 mencing. In the Place Concorde, the tritons and sea-nymphs — 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 167 
 
 altogether too handsome for fishwomen — still hold fast theh* 
 bronze dolphins, from whose mouths a jet of water is thrown 
 into a basin above, to fall again into a thousand pellucid sparkles 
 below. Not all of it, however, thus escapes. Not a little 
 goes to fill the tin vessels borne about upon the backs of many a 
 man and woman, which, half-boiled by the sun, and sweetened 
 with radix glycyrrhizae, or liquorice root, is drunk by any one 
 that chooses — not I — for a sou the glass. A little bell, inces- 
 santly tinkling, like that borne on the neck of a grazing cow, 
 keeps you perpetually aware of the presence of these sweet itin- 
 erant pedlars. This is the best proof I have at command, of 
 the fact, that the French are a liquorish people. 
 
 As we proceed up the Champs Elysees, the crowd increasing at 
 every step, we find its sides lined with booths of every descrip- 
 tion. Here one plays rouge et noir for macaroons, or swings a 
 ring suspended from a cross tree, ten feet perhaps in height, at- 
 tempting to catch it on some hooks placed in front ; his suc- 
 cess is to be rewarded in the same coin, differing in amount from 
 the number placed upon the hook. If fond of sporting, take 
 a gun, whose crooked barrel one would imagine was intended to 
 shoot around a corner, and fire little rockets at a bird, hanging 
 from the top of a pole twenty feet high. If of a warlike, de- 
 sti-uctive disposition, near at hand is a stuffed man with a wood- 
 en heart ; hit it, if you can, at three feet distance, with a pop- 
 gun crossbow. If you are not content with an exhibition of your 
 skill, without doing any damage, advance to the next. The scene 
 before you represents, in a moment, an army of Moors, each man 
 a foot distant from his neighbor. " Pick off the officers " was 
 Gen. Putnam's order at the battle of Bunker Hill ; so you aim at 
 the captain. Ah ! you have knocked him over, and in his fall he 
 touched a spring, and out runs an old woman with a long red 
 nose, and a pail in her hand. Kill the corporal, and another 
 rushes into the scene, mounted on a pig, whose tail looks as if it 
 had not yet done curling, to such an intensity is it twisted. When 
 you have thus done it effectually for Abd-el Kader and all the hos- 
 tile Arabs in Africa, behold no dead are to be found. The attend- 
 ant woman sets them up, and they are quite as sound again as 
 
168 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 ever. Like many other warriors, \'ictorious without results, let 
 us go to the next, where the damage we may do, caraiot be so 
 easily repaired. Rough and fragile images of crockery are here, 
 pieces of glass with figures painted on them. Now give the or- 
 gan of destructiveness the rein. The fragments jingle as they 
 fall into the basket below. Isn*t it delicious ? And all for two 
 or three sous ; a good investment. Novelties thicken, as we pro- 
 ceed .What keeps them laughing so perpetually in this quarter ? 
 Why, at one extremity of the circle, perhaps I should say, one of 
 the foci of the ellipse, there is a post, to which a tin pot is attach- 
 ed. At the other focus fifteen feet off, we see a young man give 
 a sou to the proprietor, w^ho in return presents him with a stick. 
 He places on the youth's head, concealing it entirely, a horrid 
 looking mask, the eyes of which look crosswise. With this he 
 can see nothing. Confident of success, where so many others 
 have failed, he advances, thus blindfolded, to strike the pot with 
 liis cane. He proceeds very cautiously in a direct line, as he 
 supposes, but following, as the bystanders well know, each eye 
 of his mask by turns, till getting near the object by his computa- 
 tion, with deliberate care he deals the blow, which he is confident 
 will make the old pot ring hke a church bell. But the only sound 
 which reaches his ear, is the universal merriment of all around. 
 The mask is removed, and he is astonished to perceive that he has 
 "missed the wrong house " by a long distance. Notwithstand- 
 ing the shortness of the space, and the apparent ease of the per- 
 formance, I saw but one hit the pot, among several essays made 
 duiing my stay. Do you wish to know your temperament ? A man 
 is ready to give you the information with a hand thermometer. 
 This has two glass globes united by a hollow tube, and filled with 
 spirits of wine. The warmth of the hand causes the fluid to run 
 from one ball to the other, and the height to which it ascends, indi- 
 cates the temperament. Changing hands, he counts in a loud 
 voice, five, ten, fifteen, twenty, as long as the liquid rises, and 
 this shows the degree. Men are content to spend five sous in 
 order to learn that they are ten degrees of " sanguinity ^' or some- 
 thing else. 
 Arrived, at length, at the Grand Square, maugre the innu- 
 
SHAM FIGHTS. 169 
 
 merable obstacles, which impede, or attractions, that divert ; in 
 the midst of an ocean of heads in constant motion to catch a 
 ghmpse, but always interposing before, behind, around, every 
 where, one may possibly succeed in seeing the stage of one of 
 the temporary theatres, erected only for the day. In these are 
 enacted battles, fights, and other diverting pastimes ; guns and 
 cannon are fired ; drums beaten ; prisoners are taken and miracu- 
 lously escape, and the French come out always victorious, the 
 enemy retiring in a laudable and regular manner, after discharg- 
 ing their muskets at, and dangerously frightening sundry peacea- 
 ble and thoughtless crows, which are innocently flying over the 
 unroofed stage. The spectators are very numerous — and very 
 quiet — when they can see — but, when the view is obstructed by 
 any one taller than themselves, they are easily amused by throw- 
 ing small stones at his hat, and often with an accuracy not alto- 
 gether pleasant to the wearer. Short people are decidedly be- 
 low par in such a place. , I did not see the stage perfectly but 
 twice, once when lifted from the ground by the pressure of the 
 crowd, and thus elevated above the world. But I could not .turn 
 my good fortune to much account, for unfortunately my atten- 
 tion was very much distracted by the instant necessity of invent- 
 ing some new method of breathing, as my chest was so wedged 
 in and compressed, that the old one would not answer. My hat 
 too, obstructing the prospect of those behind, was vigorously sa- 
 luted with a copious shower of the aforesaid gravel. The second 
 time, just at the climax, when the savage Bedouin was about to 
 destroy his captive, a French girl of birth, I felt a hand at my 
 coat pocket. The fellow was disappointed, however, for previous 
 to leaving home, I took the precaution to leave there watch, 
 pocket book, and every thing else of value. But the incident 
 drew off my observation of the stage, and, after all, I have there- 
 fore lost the pleasure of informing you, what became of the beau- 
 tiful heroine. 
 
 In the centre of this place was erected the mat de Cocagne. 
 This is a pole of as great a length as can be obtained, and perfect- 
 ly straight, resembling in this respect the lofty hickory and ash 
 poles, planted during the late election throughout the United 
 10* 
 
170 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 States. This is entirely denuded of bark and branches, and 
 made as smooth as possible. To render it still more slippery, it 
 is plentifully besmeared with soft soap and other unctuous mat- 
 ters. To the top of this a large wreath is drawn up, to which is 
 attached prizes of various sorts. On this occasion there were a 
 gold watch, a cup of silver, a convert, or silver fork and spoon, 
 and a silver mounted pipe. The first ascension is the only diffi- 
 cult one ; those coming afterwards moimt with comparative facil- 
 ity. The first essay was made by an athletic man, who stripped 
 himself almost to the state of nature ; entirely, save a piece of 
 cloth around his loins. He carried with him, suspended on each 
 side, a bag filled with a kind of powder, or dust, Avith which he 
 covered the slipper}^ pole, as far up as he could reach. Then 
 hitching up as far as he had dusted, he held by his feet and one 
 hand, while with the other he renewed his anti-lubricating pro- 
 cess. He ascended not more than fifteen feet, when his bags 
 Avere exhausted ; and, casting a longing look at the glittering 
 prizes far above, he slid down again The second climbed some 
 thirty feet, when his strength was exhausted, and his ammunition 
 failing, and, projecting also a Fox-and- Grapes-Tantalus-looking 
 regard at all that was dear, he too '* declined the honor." The 
 third was a dexterous climber, and was also fortified by a double 
 supply of the " all in all," without which it would be as vain to 
 think of rising, as to get up in the world without that other yel- 
 low dust, called gold. His cap too, served to wipe the path be- 
 fore him. After a struggle of nearly half an hour, he attained 
 the summit, seized the flag placed there, exultingly waved it 
 round his head, helped himself to the gold watch, and descended 
 very quickl3\ The track once prepared, it was easy to follow ; so 
 the other prizes were taken without difficulty, and on that account 
 were of far inferior value. This sport attracted a large crowd, 
 who divided their regards between it, and the neighboring thea- 
 tres. A young American physician, extremely agile and muscu- 
 lar, who now resides in Boston, is said to have gained this prize 
 some years ago. This is a real example of genius overcoming 
 difficulties, and of talent elevated above the crowd. 
 
 After the accomplishment of this exploit, another scene soon 
 
QUACK DOCTOR. 171 
 
 opened upon us of the grand comedy of the day. Wandering 
 about, I accidentally came in among a throng, surrounding a 
 flashy four-wheeled vehicle, of a form peculiar to France, and 
 drawn by two horses. On the front stood a man, engaged in 
 haranguing the multitude. His appearance was very remarkable. 
 He was J;ricked out in a strange style. His pantaloons were of 
 black velvet, with a waistcoat of blue cloth, having tig-ht sleeves. 
 His coat was of green velvet, with large flowing sleeves, shorter 
 above than below, where they hung, coming to a point, and ex- 
 posing the blue sleeves of the waistcoat underneath. All his 
 clothes were decorated with a profusion of gold lace. By his 
 sides were watches — two on each — with other jewelry. His 
 head was surmounted by a crimson velvet cap, encircled with a 
 gold lace band with a long flowing silk tassel depending from the 
 top, which he frequently removed, thereby exposing a bald head. 
 What hair he had was gray, and so was his beard, which was cut 
 close except on the chin, and under the jaw, and this was left 
 some six inches long. On his nose he wore a large pair of spec- 
 tacles, whose immense glasses were intended to intimate research, 
 and, in connection with his venerable beard and gray hairs, wis- 
 dom. From the first expression which struck my ear, I thought 
 he was a democrat. He was proclaiming himself a friend of the 
 working class, and professing to be a worker himself ; but he ex- 
 plained by stating that he was that moment at work — addressing 
 the people. As he advanced in his oration, he put me more and 
 more in doubt about his object. He came at last to inform us 
 that he was a Portuguese, (he spoke without a perceptible ac- 
 cent) that France contained many charlatans of all kinds, tliat 
 even his native city, Lisbon, harbored them, but that he was a 
 truly educated man, that he was versed in the noble science of 
 medicine, and could cure diseases in an incredibly short space of 
 time, especially those of the muscular system ; and finally re- 
 quested such as were afflicted to come upon the carriage, and he 
 would examine their complaints before the multitude. Immedi- 
 ately a young man of respectable appearance jumped up, stripped 
 off his co-at, rolled up his sleeve, and exhibited his arm, which he 
 declared to be the seat of much pain. Our hero turned his head. 
 
172 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 and nodded to some men seated behind him on the top of the 
 vehicle. Then I noticed, that these four fantastically dressed 
 individuals were musicians, who immediately began a tune with 
 horns, clarionet, trumpet, drum and cymbals, completely drowning 
 the sage questions asked by the learned man. After a suitable 
 lapse of time he rang a little bell by his side, and the music ceas- 
 ing, he announced that the patient had a species of rheumatism. 
 He had, however, a never-failing specific for it, an unguent of 
 great power, which was always sure to cure in twenty-four hours. 
 Again he turned and winked, after remarking that he would show 
 the method of its proper application. I involuntarily rubbed my 
 eyes, for I began to suspect that I was at a theatre, and that one 
 of the ludicrous comedies of Moliere was being acted, where tail- 
 ors tried on coats, countrymen learned wisdom and manners, 
 physicians felt the pulse, and nurses gave lavements, all to the 
 sound of martial music ; for, as the sage rubbed the grease in 
 the arm, his movements were in unison with the slow-measured 
 notes of the artists behind ; and when the tune changed to a 
 polka, he continued the friction with a polka rhythm. The scene 
 was inexpressibly ludicrous. So this " learned Jenkinson " of the 
 inimitable Vicar went on prescribing for numerous complaints, 
 feigned by an accomplice, which were all to be well in twenty- 
 four hours after his treatment. Any number of boxes of similar 
 medicines were constantly on hand ; but, from their pecuHar effi- 
 cacy, the price was of course necessarily very high. 
 
 Before the Pavilion des Horloge was erected a stage, covered 
 with crimson velvet, where, at seven and a half, p. m., by forcing 
 through a crowd of artisans in dirty blouses, smelling vehement- 
 ly of cheese and garlic, one could hear a band play the Mar- 
 seillaise or the Parissienne, and, by walking towards the Seine, 
 have a view, in one of the upper stories of the palace, of the 
 Indians from Oregon now visiting here with Mr. Catlin. By 
 order of the King, they had been placed in the vacant apart- 
 ments of one of the absent princes, commanding a view of the 
 gardens, the quai de Tuilleries, the Pont Royal, and the im- 
 mense assemblage that thronged every avenue in this quarter. 
 From this point, also, a favorable view of the fireworks was to be 
 
FEUX D'ARTIFICE. 173 
 
 had. The adjoining room was devoted to the accommodation of 
 Gen. Tom Thumb. It was amusing to hear the speculations of 
 the multitude in regard to these red skins, who, in all the pride 
 and pomp of paint and feathers, were very conspicuous at the 
 windows, and arrested the gaping notice of vast numbers. The 
 lower classes of the community are as ignorant of geography, as 
 the aborigines of America, when discovered by Columbus. One 
 imagined they were Patagonians ; another surmised that they 
 were Chinese ; a third Egyptians, and, when informed they were 
 from the backwoods of the United States, from Oregon, they in- 
 nocently replied, that " they thought all the Africans were black." 
 As the shades of night descended, the lamps, arranged in 
 triangular groups of thirty-six on lofty stands, and placed at in- 
 tervals of forty feet perhaps along the green fringed walks, were 
 lighted up. This exhibition, extending even to the Arc de 1' Etoile, 
 and to every little avenue around, was almost magical. At such 
 a moment it was easy to have any quantity of poetical imaginings 
 of diamonds and such like, that could be wished. Poetry is a de- 
 scription of fancy. This is the reason, as I take it, why calling 
 red hair, golden : oil lamp lights, diamonds ; and talking of silver 
 moon and pearly teeth, is being poetical. To those who live in 
 the garret, gold and silver, diamonds and pearls, exist but in the 
 imagination. When the twilight had entirely melted away, there 
 commenced from the Quai d'Orsay a shower of rockets, which 
 with their bright light of various colors illuminated all around. 
 Being of large size, the noise of their explosion was very great, 
 as they burst high in the air, pouring a deluge of brilliant spar- 
 kles on every side. At the moment, when the first rocket shot 
 up, commenced the discharge of the great guns at the battlements 
 surrounding the Hotel des Invahdes. Had this captive Prussian 
 and Austrian ordnance been as faithfully served in times gone by, 
 as they were this evening, they might have changed the destinies 
 of nations, and not been left, as now, to illustrate the prowess of 
 French arms. At every report, I beheld in imagination the vet- 
 erans, who now served them, at the battles of Lodi and Wagram 
 and Austerlitz, their hearts burning with a fire scarcely less ve- 
 hement than the flame which consumed their powder. Those 
 
174 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 heroes, who then protected the body of the Great Warrior, now, 
 surround and o^uard his moulderinor ashes. 
 
 Near this quai, high in the air Avas a beautiful cross of varie- 
 gated lamps of large size, which was the object of universal ad- 
 miration. On the Pont de la Concorde rose two lofty monuments 
 of fire, while from their base flashed Roman Candles and flames 
 of every description. For half an hour an unbroken succession 
 of rockets, wheels and other productions of pyrotechny were play- 
 ed ofi" without the least intermission. No delay in the prepara- 
 tion of the pieces fatigued the spectator, and there was no 
 parsimonious apprehension of burning too many at a time. The 
 air was in a continual blaze with sheets of fire in inexhaustible 
 profusion. The final piece was an immense bouquet, extending 
 the entire length of the bridge, of every hue and of surpassing 
 lustre ; thus closing an exhibition exceeding in magnificence any- 
 thing of a similar kind, which it has been my fortune ever to be- 
 hold. 
 
 No report has been made of any accident happening during 
 the day, notwithstanding the vast number assembled. Three or 
 four hundred thousand persons were undoubtedly spectators of 
 these fireworks. Indeed, there were fifteen thousand troops of 
 the line in active sendee in or near the garden, besides numerous 
 other grades of " guardians of the peace." The crowd was of 
 the most orderly character; though they were required to 
 rest five or ten minutes in the midst of a " squeeze," — a trying 
 moment, — near the outlet and the Pont Royal, I did not hear a 
 complaint escape. Thus ended the day, and I close this descrip- 
 tion with my best wishes for the health, long life, and prosperity 
 of L^uis Philippe, the wisest of modern kings. In addition, I 
 think I shall communicate pleasure to all by sending herewith a 
 translation of the principal speeches made by the heads of the 
 various delegations sent to wait upon him, together with his re- 
 sponses. A translation cannot possibly retain the force and 
 beauty, so strikingly expressed in the originals. The tournure 
 de phrase is very expressive and beautiful, but of so extremely 
 dehcate a texture, as often to become gross in the version, and in 
 its bluntness wholly to lose its force. Notwithstanding this dis- 
 
 I 
 
CONGRATULATORY ADDRESSES. 175 
 
 advantage, I think that no one can read the address of the Presi- 
 dent of the Deputies — or the lower house — without being touched 
 with the simple beauty, that pervades it. The response of the 
 king shows, that he was deeply impressed with its sincerity, and 
 his words have less of that stereotype style, which necessarily 
 distinguishes the others. 
 
XXVIII. 
 
 Versailles — The Palace — Its Cost — Desecration nn 1792 — Its 
 Restoration by Louis Philippe — Its Embellishments, Pictures and 
 Statues — Napoleon as he lives on the Canvas — Effects of these 
 Paintings on a Spectator. 
 
 Yesterday and to-day I spent at Versailles, with Dr. Potter 
 of Augusta, Me., and when I say at Versailles, I mean at the pal- 
 ace, for the town itself can boast of few attractions. It owes all 
 its consequence to this single building, one of the most remarka- 
 ble, considered in itself, and also on account of its contents, which 
 the world contains. It is situated at a distance of twelve miles 
 from Paris, toward the south-west, and though it possesses few 
 inhabitants and no commerce, two railroads connect it with the 
 great world. Before the Revolution, 100,000 people were num- 
 bered among its citizens, and all the great and noble of the land 
 spent a large portion of their time here. It is now comparative- 
 ly deserted, her lordly mansions are vacant, and her spacious, 
 but dreary streets, no longer echo with the equipages of rank 
 and wealth and fashion. Her once flourishing and voluptuous 
 population have dwindled now to thirty thousand persons. 
 
 In the 16th century, Versailles was but an inconsiderable vil- 
 lage environed entirely with forests, whither the King of Navarre, 
 afterwards the renowned Henry IV., resorted to hunt. In 1624 
 Louis XIII. purchased the land around, and erected a small cha- 
 teau, the germ of the present immense pile. It is of red brick, 
 and occupies the centre of the present structure. Louis XIV., in 
 1G64, commenced the construction of the palace, as it now ex- 
 ists, with the intention of making it the seat of his court. The 
 most celebrated architect of the day was entrusted with the exe- 
 cution of the kingly design. The many difficulties to be sur- 
 
 176 
 
PALACE OF VERSAILLES. 177 
 
 mounted, from the nature of the situation, served only to stimu- 
 late the monarch ; and the work was prosecuted with such vigor, 
 that a proud habitation for a proud monarch soon arose under 
 their hands. Le Notre arranged the gardens and grounds. Ex- 
 cavations were dug, terraces raised, and the immense park, mea- 
 suring twenty leagues, was protected by a wall. Two or three 
 other walls divided the land into extensive gardens, parks and 
 other enclosures of luxury or utility. For the water required to 
 fill the reservoirs and fountains, a plan was conceived, and actu- 
 ally begun to be executed, of turning the river Eure from its 
 course. Nothing, in short, deterred that magnificent monarch 
 from the accomplishment of his grand designs ; not money, for 
 though no accurate accounts can be obtained of the expenditures, 
 the estimates exceeded two hundred millions of dollars ; not labor, 
 for the entire army of thirty thousand men during the peace 
 were not unfrequently all employed at once upon the works. 
 The palace itself, with all its richness, cost less than the works 
 around it. These statistics may serve to communicate, perhaps, 
 some idea of its grandeur. 
 
 Every effort was made to people the town ; every encourage- 
 ment held out, to all who wished to build ; so that ere long an 
 elegant city and a numerous population surrounded the royal 
 residence. In 1681 the Court removed thither from St Germain ; 
 since that time the works have been in continual progress, 
 each successive monarch adding something to improve his splendid 
 inheritance on his accession to the throne. In 1*792, with the 
 vandalism, which disgraced the age, its furniture of the richest 
 quality was sent to market. Its invaluable paintings, together 
 with every thing else that was moveable, shared the same fate. 
 
 Napoleon's influence alone saved the entire royal property from 
 the hammer of the auctioneer in lots to suit. The estimated cost 
 of ten million dollars, for its restoration, was the only hinderance 
 to his residing here. Louis XVIII. limited his expenses to one 
 million and twenty thousand dollars, which were laid out princi- 
 pally in repairs. Charles X., in the contracted spirit of his reign, 
 did nothing. Louis Phihppe has given to the place a destination. 
 
178 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 " Time had produced its revolution in opinions, and Versailles 
 could not longer exist under the conditions of the monarchy of 
 Louis XIV. — it could no longer be the abode of a population of 
 courtiers, or the Olympus of a monarch. To become the con- 
 centration of all the illustrious of France, to collect the inherit- 
 ance of all her glories, and, without being despoiled of the type 
 of grandeur now passed away, to be clothed with other grandeur 
 new and national, was a destiny not less splendid and august, than 
 that at first assigned it." Louis Philippe has done this with 
 equal felicity in design, and promptitude of execution. He has 
 eflfaced the disfigurements of time ; restored the grand concep- 
 tions of its great originator ; reproduced the painted ceilings and 
 gildings, formed new saloons and galleries ; improved and har- 
 monized the whole, and finally embellished it with an immense 
 collection of paintings and sculptures, which illustrate every period 
 and, event that have reflected lustre on the French name. Three 
 million dollars have already been expended, and the disbursements 
 are still going on. The Royal Family no longer make their abode 
 in the palace, now converted into one vast museum, but the Tri- 
 anon, originally a dependency merely, now receives the King and 
 his interesting household into its quiet retreat. 
 
 On approaching from the railway depot, two enormous build- 
 ings appear immediately in front of the palace, the size of which, 
 as well as their somewhat aristocratic air, distinguish them as 
 residences of nobility. Great then is the astonishment on learn- 
 ing that they are merely stables, though at present vacant. 
 They supply accommodation for a thousand horses. The great 
 court-yard of the palace is adorned with sixteen colossal statues 
 of the ministers, generals and great men of the country, exqui- 
 sitely chiseled in white marble ; and, in their centre, an excellent 
 equestrian statue in bronze of Louis XIV, of gigantic dimensions. 
 I noticed several good-sized men engaged in some cleansing ope- 
 ration, standing under the horse with their hats in their hands. 
 On the wings of the structure is an inscription which announces 
 the present destination of the palace, A toutes les gloires de 
 LA France. The views of the palace from the town, and also 
 
GALLERY OF PAINTINGS. 179 
 
 from the Park, are of the most beautiful description. The same 
 boasting spirit, that pervades the French nation not less than her 
 neighbors, and which has always characterized every people, that 
 have performed anything which would sustain a vaunt, has caus- 
 ed to be placed on each side of the grand entrance of the court- 
 yard two emblematic sculptures in stone, one representing France 
 victorious over Austria, with a statue of Peace by its side ; the 
 other, France triumphant over Spain, and at its side a statue of 
 Abundance, the former by Maroy, the latter by Giradon, 
 
 Leaving the exterior, and entering the building, we find it con- 
 sists of two large apartments, richly gilded and otherwise orna- 
 mented, formerly the abode of different officers of the court. 
 The furniture, I have already mentioned, was disposed of many 
 years ago, and the whole interior has been remodeled to suit its 
 present design. The partitions have been removed, and large 
 halls thus formed, to the whole of which has been assigfned the 
 name of " The Historical Museum." Each part has likewise a 
 distinguishing title. The American, who has never been accus- 
 tomed to see more than four or five hundred pictures at a time, is be- 
 wildered with the immense multitude all around him. For hours 
 and hours he walks through continuous galleries and smaller 
 rooms ; he mounts to the garret, descends almost to the cellar, 
 and still he beholds paintings on paintings, busts and statues, " a 
 multitude which no man can number." The very immensity of 
 the collection to be seen, prevents his properly observing any. 
 If he can grasp the general scope, and penetrate one or two of 
 the striking characters in some of them, he does well ; but the 
 slighter and less observable points, which so often indicate the 
 consummate artist, are not visible to his rapid glance. Although 
 I have spent hours in these galleries, and feasted on their 
 treasures, I am scarcely willing to assert, that I have seen them, 
 because I have not been able to look upon them calmly. Inde- 
 pendently of the little time which I could devote to each, the agi- 
 tation excited by their contemplation kept me in a state little favora- 
 ble for criticism, or close examination. As a person on reading an 
 intensely interesting tale, or beholding the tragic creations of a 
 
180 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 great author, represented on the stage, is wrought up to such a 
 delirium of feehng, as to pass over with slight notice the beauties 
 of description, the nice shades of expression and the poetical 
 imagery, so one is equally transported on witnessing similar 
 scenes start out before him on the canvas — the breathing lip, the 
 eloquent eye, and the countenance dissolved in grief, as por- 
 trayed by the hand of the great master. Never before did I feel 
 the real power of the pencil, never had I, till now, acknow- 
 ledged in my soul the mighty intellect of the man, who was the 
 fons et origo of wonderful imaginations, like some of these. 
 
 But my object is description ; and first of the historical 
 pictures, which are principally representations of the great bat- 
 tles, in which France has acquired unfading renown, and which 
 illustrate her prowess from the earhest period. Passing by the 
 old paintings, which treat of events in the earlier periods of the 
 national annals — the times of Charlemagne, the Crusades, of the 
 Louises XIV, XV, XVI, — we come to an epoch, more interesting 
 at present to most persons, as the events have occurred in the 
 presence, as it were, of many now alive, and are fresh in the 
 minds of all ; the time of the great Napoleon. Here are vi\id 
 pictures of the principal battles where he triumphed. Wagram, 
 Austerlitz, Marengo, and Moscow, are exhibited with a power 
 and faithfulness, which, while they chill the blood at the sight of 
 so much suffering and carnage, exalt the consummate general 
 who achieved them, and stands out the most conspicuous object 
 in the groups. The effect of these paintings is wonderful. In 
 the great city, almost everything is stamped Avith his genius ; his 
 comprehensive intellect, surveying all things with a glance, is 
 there seen to penetrate into the depths of futurity. The voice of 
 that city is full of the praise of the soldier and the sage. The grey- 
 haired veteran limps about on crutches, with both arms gone, 
 yet, having his hat attached to an iron hook on a wooden arm, 
 waves it about his head, and with feeble shouts hails the mem- 
 ory of the departed hero. Full of these emotions, I enter these 
 halls, and am still surrounded by the same master spirit. I con- 
 template those fields of his and the nation's glory, fight over 
 
NAPOLEON. 181 
 
 again those battles, already engraven on my soul by the pen of 
 the historic muse, and, unconsciously to myself, a feeling of 
 hatred creeps gradually over my heart toward that nation, who, 
 profiting by an accident, brutally triumphed over the greatest 
 mind that ever lived, and insulted and enslaved the man, whom 
 they still feared, but could not humble nor subdue. I can, I do 
 feel deeply for the French ; my heart goes with them, and I can 
 sympathize with that party, who are disgusted with the peaceful 
 aims of the present ruler, and desire once more to stand in the immi- 
 nent deadly breach, again to strike for France, to fight once more, 
 though but with the memory of Napoleon for a leader. I defy 
 the greatest advocate of peace that lives, to look upon these 
 paintings calmly ; to view with cool composure the brown coat, 
 the cocked hat, the white horse, the calm features of the man of 
 destiny, who subdued all — even himself and his own feelings, — 
 for ambition — for glory — for France. Had I lived in those tem- 
 pestuous times, my heart tells me, how easily I could have 
 shouldered the musket, and drawn the trigger, under the auspi- 
 ces of that glorious commander. Were I now engaged in 
 actually doing what has now an existence only in the fancy, my 
 heart could not beat more tumultuously, than it does at this mo- 
 ment, while recalling what I have seen, and recounting an oft- 
 repeated tale. If this is human nature, how long will it be be- 
 fore the epoch shall arrive, when our swords shall be beat into 
 permanent ploughshares, and our spears into lasting pruning- 
 hooks, and men shall learn war no more ? 
 
 These pictures are not to be enumerated by fives and tens, but 
 by fiftie's and hundreds ; many are of the size of life, where each 
 face is a portrait, and each action represented, a real event. In 
 some, every eye is turned upon the general ; in others, the poor 
 sufferer lies mortally wounded near him, and, as the last life drop is 
 oozing from his veins, with his latest strength and dying breath, he 
 hails the presence of his general, king, emperor. The return from 
 Elba, the parting from the troops at Fontainbleau, the presenta- 
 tion of the cross of the Legion of Honor to a Russian enemy, 
 distinguished as the bravest in the army, and many other scenes 
 11 
 
182 
 
 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 of his eventful life, have employed the pencils of the greatest 
 artists of France, how well, I have attempted to express, not by- 
 critical analysis, but by a simple account of their influence over 
 an imprejudiced beholder. 
 
 To avoid the prolixity of my last two communications, I will 
 defer what I have further to say of these pictures to the next 
 letter. 
 
XXIX. 
 
 Pictures, Coins and Medals in the Palace at Versailles — Chapel — 
 Louis XIV — Opera Room — Grand Gallery of Glass — Fountains — 
 Parterre d'eau — Ancient Orange Tree — Bassin de Neptune — 
 Fountain of Latona — Chariot of the Sun — Bassin d' Encelade — 
 Bosquet des Bassins d'Apollon — Bassin des Enfans — ^America and 
 HER Artists. 
 
 Leaving the reign of Napoleon, we come to that of Louis 
 XVIII. One or two pictures represent his flight from the Tuil- 
 leries, and serve only to exhibit his portrait and his fat dumpy 
 figure. Charles X. succeeds. Few incidents occurred in his short 
 sway, though much too long for the good of his country. Pic- 
 tures of his reviewing the troops in the Champ de Mars are the 
 principal, and possess but little interest. In addition to his own 
 portrait, that of Louis Philippe, as Lieutenant General, appears in 
 them. Next follow the numerous paintings commemorating 
 most of the political occurrences in the chequered career of the 
 present sovereign. We see him, the favorite of the people, leav- 
 ing his residence in the Palais Royal on horseback to go to the 
 Hotel de Ville; while the honors of the three days of 1830 are 
 showered along his path. The excited populace, with arms in 
 their hands, surroimd him, but not with hostile intent ; for hats 
 are waved, and the very walls quiver with their cheers. Again 
 the deputies by delegation announce to him the honor the coun- 
 try had conferred upon him. His family are around him, and 
 participate in the thrilling event. The portraits of Lafayette, 
 Soult, and many others, are striking. A similar scene is present- 
 ed by a deputation from the Chamber of Peers. In another he 
 refuses the crown of Belgium offered to his son. The number 
 
 183 
 
184 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES, 
 
 of such representations is very great. Few preceding kings have 
 had so many incidents in their reigns illustrated hy the pencil. 
 It is exceedingly interesting to look upon the portraits of all the 
 kings from Pharamond to the present day, the Grand Admirals 
 — among whom those of the discoverers, the unfortunate La 
 Perouse and others, are particularly deserving of attention — the 
 Constables, Marshals, and great Warriors and distinguished men 
 of France. Beside these, there are coins and medals, which il- 
 lustrate the different ages. Many of these are marked with 
 much rudeness of execution, and exhibit such distortion of faces, 
 that one cannot entertain a very favorable opinion of the vaunted 
 beauty of the originals. They are interesting too for the variety 
 of styles displayed in their costume. One, celebrating the court 
 of some queen and the company dancing, arrayed in hoops and 
 high heeled shoes, was especially ludicrous. 
 
 The busts and statues are very numerous ; some in plaster, but 
 very many in marble ; among the most observable of which are 
 Richeheu, Mazarin, the brave Gaston de Foix and Bayard, the 
 ever- venerated Fenelon, Blanche of Navarre, and the beautiul 
 statue of one of the most remarkable heroines, that we have any 
 knowledge of, the famous Joan d'Arc — the work of the Princess 
 Marie, deceased daughter of Louis Philippe. In giving some ac- 
 count of the chapel of St. Ferdinand, in a former letter, I men- 
 tioned a beautiful angel, also the work of the same talented Duch- 
 ess of Wirtemberg. To this succeeds the Hall, where are some 
 very large pictures, representing still later events than any yet 
 mentioned, in which figure the different sons of the king. The 
 siege and capture of Constantine shows the Due d'Orleans and a 
 younger brother ; while, near it, is a sea-fight to the glory of 
 Prince de Joinville. These paintings are all by Horace Vernet, 
 the great painter of the present day, and are gems of art. The 
 sea-scene is exceedingly fine. The light shines through the sail, 
 and the splinters in the ship's side, which a cannon ball had 
 struck, are nature itself. A large picture now in the exhibition 
 of the works of modern artists in the Louvre, which, I believe, I 
 have heretofore alluded to, will shortly be placed here. It is 
 saying much to affirm, that it is worthy of the immense space. 
 
OPERA ROOM. 185 
 
 which it will occupy. Many other works of this great master are 
 in various galleries of this palace. 
 
 An interesting part of the building is the Chapel, which has 
 lately been restored to all the splendor for which it was remark- 
 able in the age of Louis XIV. Whatever else this overrated 
 monarch did, or omitted, — and none comprehend his quantum of 
 merit more accurately than many of his countrymen — he resem- 
 bled many a solemn American in a punctilious attendance at church. 
 He went daily to mass, but not content with securing his own sal- 
 vation, he required his courtiers to bear him company. Quam 
 prope ad pietatem sine pietate. On this portion of the palace 
 extraordinary taste and grandeur are lavished. The pavement is 
 of the richest marbles, wrought into Mosaic, and the walls and 
 ceiling, supported by a superb architrave and cornice above lofty 
 Corinthian columns, are magnificently painted by the distinguished 
 A. Coypel, Lafosse and Jouvenet. Statues, basso-relievos and 
 pictures are not wanting to complete the garniture of this ex- 
 quisite apartment. 
 
 The Opera Room is secluded from the public view, but on pre- 
 sentation of the talismanic ticket, 
 
 It opens wide 
 
 Its ever-pleasant gates, haiinonious sound, 
 On golden hinges turning," 
 
 and the beauty and lustre, which then break in upon you, well 
 repay the trouble requisite to obtain it. The ornaments are 
 crimson and gold, accompanied with a profusion of mirrors and 
 chandeliers. The first grand representation here was given in 
 honor of the marriage of Louis XVL, and the last on the inau- 
 guration of the Historical Museum, the l7th of May, 1837. On 
 the first of these occasions, it was illuminated with ten thousand 
 wax candles. Now gas is introduced. The expenses of a Grand 
 Opera, given at this place, are not less than twenty thousand 
 dollars. 
 
 Among the noble apartments which are decorated with regal 
 splendor, is the king's, with its marbles, rich gilding, and painted 
 ceilings ; the queen's, less richly, but not less agreeably embel- 
 11* 
 
186 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 lished with white and gold : but the Grand Gallery of Glass 
 excels them all, and is one of the most magnificent rooms in the 
 universe. It is two hundred and forty-two feet in length, thirty- 
 five feet wide, and forty-three feet high. As its name imphes, it 
 possesses numerous mirrors, one entire side being wholly filled by 
 them, set in arcades, which reflect the light let in through seven- 
 teen immense windows opposite. Between the arcades and the 
 windows are sixty composite pilasters of red marble, having bases 
 and capitals of gilt bronze, and the entrances are adorned with 
 similar columns. The ceiling is vaulted, and painted by Le 
 Brun with allegorical representations of the leading events in 
 the career of Louis XIV. In the sleeping apartment of that 
 king is the famous "Titans" of Paul Veronese, which was 
 brought from Italy by Napoleon, and now ornaments the ceiling. 
 Here, also, is the richly decorated bed on which Louis XIV. 
 breathed his last. The coverlet and curtains are satin, worked 
 with superb embroidery by the ladies of St. Cyr. In the private 
 apartments are some evidences of the mechanical talents of Louis 
 XVL, such as a long brass meridian line running across the floor, 
 placed there by that king himself. The locks still upon the 
 doors are of royal workmanship. 
 
 Here I shall conclude this running sketch of the exterior and 
 interior of this celebrated and wonderful palace ; one that never 
 has been equalled in ages past, and is not likely to have a par- 
 allel for centuries to come. This prediction is based on the alter- 
 ed character of the times. Kings have so often been made and 
 unmade within the last half century, general information and the 
 spirit of liberty have been so widely diffused, that generations on 
 generations must rise and fade away, and some unforeseen revul- 
 sion of the social state, or eclipse of learning intervene, before 
 any people will ever again suff'er so vast an expenditure of public 
 money to be wrung from their own starving industry, merely to 
 gratify the whim, or promote the aggrandisement of one, who, 
 if called King, is no longer the sacred vicegerent of heaven 
 which he pretended to be at former periods. Affiavit Deus, et 
 dissipantur. Still the future is unfathomable. The taste of some 
 
THE ORANGERIE. 187 
 
 future Roman emperor may attempt a similar work of splendid 
 extravagance. His power is despotic enough, and his subjects 
 sufficiently enslaved and ignorant. 
 
 But an account, sketch though it be, which should stop with 
 a description of the palace, would transfer a very imperfect im- 
 pression indeed of this extraordinary spot. It would be painting 
 the head of Venus only, forgetting all the other unapproachable 
 beauties of the goddess of beauty. The gardens, parks and 
 fountains of Versailles equally deserve the best eflforts of the pen- 
 cil and pen, as well from the immense sums, that have been 
 unsparingly lavished on their construction, as for the sculptural 
 beauties, which are every where scattered around. The fountains 
 are among the most celebrated artificial water- works in the world, 
 and are visited by every stranger, who comes to the metropolis. 
 From the palace, following the great avenue on the terrace, is the 
 Parterre (Teau, which contains two oblong basins, on whose bor- 
 ders are twenty-four groups in bronze, eight nymphs, eight 
 groups of children, and the four principal rivers of France, with 
 their tributaries, A jet d'eau, in the form of a basket, is in the 
 centre of each. At both ends of the terrace are fountains with 
 bronze animals, tlie water gushing from their open mouths. De- 
 scending from the terrace, on the south side of the palace, after 
 passing over a hundred marble steps, and more, we come to the 
 Oranr/erie, This is simply intended for the preservation of the 
 oranges and pomegranates during winter. One of these orange 
 trees the antiquarian will view with gusto, as it has lived and 
 flourished in its vegetable kingdom, while dynasties and govern- 
 ments of men have risen and crumbled repeatedly around it, and 
 in its very presence. The pedigree of this venerable patriarch is 
 not completely known, but its seed was sown in 1421 — before the 
 discovery of America ; — it has prospered during twelve reigns, 
 and is still in good health and the enjoyment of a green old age. 
 It is called the Grand Bourbon, from its being part of the confis- 
 cated property of the Constable de Bourbon. This is the legend, 
 but I cannot stop to investigate its foundation, and if I could, lejeu 
 ricn vaut pas la chandelle, " I say the tale as it was said to me." 
 
 What an inestimable privilege is this ! A beautiful garden ever 
 
188 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 open to the pent up resident of the city, who, tired by labor all 
 the week, and heated by the intolerable rays of a many times 
 reflected sun, can hither resort, and lie in the shade of the green 
 trees on the soft sward, and listen to the sweet melody of sylvan 
 songsters, and the rippling of the water-falls. Or, if he pleases, 
 he may enter the beautiful palace, and stroll from one elegant 
 object to another, and drink deep draughts of rapture at the 
 sight of master-pieces of painting and sculpture. When the 
 United States have a king, they may expect to have picture 
 galleries and public gardens. Till the advent of such a person- 
 age, or his ** counterfeit presentment" in a Pericles or a Medicis, 
 greedy of gold, and avaricious of every spot of ground, where a 
 blade of grass can grow, or tulip bulb be planted, they will 
 speculate on the possibility of making a carrot or a cabbage 
 usurp its place. The elegant must give way to the useful — utile 
 sine dulci — and the reins of fancy are held in check by the rough 
 hands of the money-getter. Is it a wonder that the old world 
 produces the poets, the painters, the sculptors and artists of all 
 kinds, when schools, such as these, are always open, free as air, 
 to every comer ? These halls during week days are filled with 
 painters, who have come to study and copy the striking beauties 
 of the great masters. So it is in every large gallery of pictures 
 in the realm, and there are very many of them. In the United 
 States, the government can boast of owning some half a dozen 
 paintings, which have been thriftily hawked about the country 
 for exhibition at twenty-five cents a head. In France, besides 
 the opportunities thus afforded for study, there is a public school 
 held in the palace of fine arts, where the best one hundred of the 
 competitors are every six months received for gratuitous instruc- 
 tion ; two-thirds in painting, the rest in sculpture. The competi- 
 tors number about five hundred. Every year the best three 
 scholars are sent to Rome at the government's expense, to study 
 among the chef-d'oeuvre s of the world. Thus France is the 
 vigilant foster-mother of genius ; so the United States should 
 be ; but on the contrary, she not only neglects the instruction, 
 but withholds the rewards of genius. Even when an artist has 
 shed lustre by his talents on his native land, he is left to starve 
 
STATUES AND FOUNTAINS. 183 
 
 for want of employment. If by a strange accident the gov- 
 ernment happen to order a work of art, with skinflint meanness 
 it cuts down the price — to lavish it on a partizan contractor — till 
 its encouragement becomes an ignis fatuus. Witness the last 
 work of Greenough. And Power, the gifted Power, shall he not 
 find work in his own land ? Must genius expatriate itself to find 
 bread ? I call on you, President Polk, to attend to this. In- 
 stead of despicable live office beggars, let the court-yard of the 
 Capitol be filled with the statues of the dead signers of the im- 
 mortal Declaration. Not with paltry busts, but bid the greatest 
 of our own land to rival one another in the perpetuation of the 
 lineaments of the great men of our common country. Do this, 
 and hope to receive the honor of a statue yourself — twin glory 
 with the laurel among the Ancients in the next collection — that 
 of the Presidents of America. The National Gallery of Painting 
 and Sculpture ! Where is it ? Let not a future generation re- 
 peat the demand. Let a commencement be made now, if only 
 with an engraving and a plaster bust. Let every State pay 
 these pure honors to her great men. Warren, Hancock, Adams, 
 and many others should stand before the Capitol at Boston. 
 Let New York surround her City Hall with the images of Hamil- 
 ton, Fulton, Clinton, and similar worthies ; and Jersey illuminate 
 the heights of Trenton with those of her Stocktons and her 
 illustrious military heroes. Which of the old Thirteen cannot 
 claim numbers deserving this high reward ? And the new States, 
 if any of them cannot yet point to their great men, have the 
 same blood running in their veins, and will soon create them. 
 
 The fountains, which have been running and shooting up their 
 spray and foaming bubbles, have now subsided. My pen too is 
 still ; its airy architecture has vanished, and nothing remains, but 
 hopes, strong anticipations — are they baseless ? — of the future 
 artists and glory of America. 
 
XXX. 
 
 Grand Trianon — Little Trianon — Private Apartments — French 
 Gardens — Cooper, the Pioneer American Novelist — Freedom of 
 The Press. 
 
 Even from my inadequate description of the royal residence at 
 Versailles, a person might be ready to imagine, that little could 
 be added to increase the magnificence of the condition of kings ; 
 and that any other buildings and gardens, placed near this mira- 
 cle of art, would not only be superfluous, but wanting in judg- 
 ment and taste. Though these might be rich and elegant in 
 themselves, that a direct comparison must necessarily be the re- 
 sult, and everything else less imperial, must become dim, if not 
 entirely lost, in the shadow of the mighty palace. Such is the 
 first impression ; yet, when that person comes to see the 
 Grand Trianon, and the Little Trianon, his opinion will be en- 
 tirely changed. The difi'erence in the architecture, and the 
 whole external appearance, render comparison as impossible, as 
 one between a ship of the line and a pleasure yacht. The Trianons 
 do not enter into competition with their proud neighbor. They 
 have no extended court-yard, adorned with colossal statuary, no 
 towering walls and pointed turrets, no gaudy Corinthian pillars, nor 
 lofty balconies, which so strongly characterize the majesty of the 
 larger structure ; but, simple, modest, and unassuming, the 
 Grand Trianon bears away, without the least arrogance, the 
 palm of beauty. 
 
 The Grand Trianon was built by Louis XIV. for Madame 
 de Maintenon. It is in the Italian style, and of a single story in 
 height. At the extremity of the Park of Versailles, its situation 
 is retired and enchanting. It consists of two wings united by a 
 gallery, pierced with arcades and fronted with magnificent Ionic 
 
 190 
 
GRAND TRIANON. 191 
 
 columns, and coupled pilasters in Languedoc marble. The grand 
 palace, as already observed, is no longer the abode of the royal 
 line, having yielded that honor to this less imposing building, 
 which possesses a simple beauty charming to every eye. Louis 
 XIV., XV., and XVI. were fond of retiring hither from the pomp 
 and bustle which oppressed them ^t the more lordly mansion. 
 Napoleon spent much of his time here, and, to facilitate his ap- 
 proach, constructed a direct road from the palace of St. Cloud, 
 his still more favorite habitation. It is now occupied by Louis 
 Philippe for some months every autumn. In the left wing are 
 the apartments of the Queen, those in the right belong to the 
 King. The Grand Gallery, one hundred and sixty feet long, is 
 filled with objects of art. Among them are some executed by 
 royalty, statues and other works. " Here," says the guide, " the 
 King dresses." Cataracts, earthquakes, and even the deluge it- 
 self have been converted into music, why then should not a din- 
 ner be? And it is ; — for, "here," continues the guide, in a little 
 anteroom, " are placed the band, who play while he eats." This 
 is the last refinement of cookery, and must prove, it is not 
 doubted, a substantial help to royal mastication, and contribute 
 very much to keep the kingly organ of digestion in proper tune. 
 At any rate, it must effectually drown conversation, and so 
 leave greater leisure to play with the knife and fork. — 
 " Here their majesties sleep," pointing to a bedstead, so 
 overlaid with gold, that the wood could nowhere be seen. The 
 hangings are of crimson satin, embroidered with gold, and border- 
 ed with a fringe of gold lace. The coverlet is white satin dam- 
 ask. The bed, like those of all the royal family, consists of 
 but one mattress, which fact was particulary remarked by the 
 guide, probably to show the hardships endured by royalty. This 
 is not so shocking as the floors, which do really seem to be un- 
 comfortable. They are similar to those in all the palaces, con- 
 structed of oak, and waxed. The private bed-chambers and bath 
 rooms are all finished in this manner. I have not seen a carpet 
 on any room, with but a single exception, in the royal palaces. 
 I wonder if kings and queens have cold feet, like ordinary humani- 
 ty. The little prince and princesses of England were siiid — it 
 
192 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 might be a scandalous rumor — to have had the whooping-cough 
 last spring. " This," quoth the guide, again, " is the bed- 
 chamber of the princess, this of the maids of honor, and this of 
 the valet," et cetera. 
 
 The little Trianon is a two story edifice, seventy-two feet square, 
 with four fluted Corinthian columns in front. It is situated at a 
 little distance from the Grand Trianon, and is at present occupied 
 by the mother of the Count de Paris. The Empress Marie 
 Louise formerly resided here, and the bed room remains just as 
 she left it. It is hung with blue silk, and the bed w4th a drapery 
 of muslin and gold. The whole interior without having anything 
 remarkable, is light and pleasing. The garden is laid out in 
 English style, and is particularly fine. A garden in France would 
 scarcely pass for one in America. It is not necessarily filled with 
 flowers. Indeed, it is far more often a portion of land, divided 
 by box-fringed walks into regular compartments, with here and 
 there a few flowers. The trees which shade it are cut and trim- 
 med, till they assume a square, precise, and quaker-like appear- 
 ance, which is far from pleasing. The main difference between a 
 French garden, and one a V Anglaise is, that in the latter the tail- 
 oring is carried on to a less extent, and consequently the trees 
 have more the look of nature. The beds, too, have not the reg- 
 ular square and diamond form, which characterizes the former. 
 As far as relates to flowers, there is but little diff"erence. I fear, 
 if you should attempt to cut a sizeable bouquet from either, that 
 they would be missed, and, as happened in another garden, some 
 time ago, when Eve plucked the forbidden apple, they 
 
 " Would feel the wound, aud show forth signs of woe 
 That all was lost." 
 
 In one part, on the banks of a piece of water, is the " Swiss 
 Village." These peculiarly shaped houses, with their thatched 
 roofs, were erected by Marie Antoinette. They have a charm- 
 ing picturesque effect, surrounded and enclosed as they are com- 
 pletely, with verdant foliage. They serve for the residence of 
 domestics. A short distance from the Trianon itself is the temple 
 d' Amour, situated on an island, and built of white marble. It is 
 simply a roof upheld by numerous pillars. The floor is tesselat- 
 
COOPER, THE NOVELIST. 193 
 
 ed marble. In the centre, on a pedestal, is a beautiful statue of 
 
 the wily god. 
 
 Here lovers may resort, and breathe sweet sighs 
 Beneath the cold pale moon and silent skies ; 
 While wanton zephyrs play upon the trees — 
 Those forest harps of wond'rous harmonies — 
 Wild strains, that bathe the soul in ecstasies. 
 
 But I am straying from my path. Is it strange ? Kings and 
 nobles have done so before me. 
 
 While describing the pictures in these palaces, I am reminded 
 of some fine engravings, that I have lately seen. They are 
 recently executed, and are illustrations of portions of the works 
 of Cooper. Among them is the scene, where Leatherstocking 
 kills the cougar, which menaces the destruction of the two girls. 
 Another is taken from the Last of the Mohegans, where the In- 
 dians are retreating into the cave, concealed imperfectly by 
 branches of trees. The gallant officer is standing ready to defend 
 the two trembling girls behind him. It is not on account of the 
 extraordinary beauty of these engravings that I mention them, 
 so much as for the sake of the author of the works from which 
 these scenes are borrowed. This man, whose writings, translated 
 into every tongue of Europe, shed lustre on his country, praised 
 as he is, and respected abroad, is abused and persecuted in his 
 own native land with a virulence almost without a parallel. The 
 family of a great man, though partial enough in many respects, 
 are not the first to discover, and pay extraordinary deference 
 to his merits. The housekeeper of the eminent mathematician, 
 D'Alembert, during the whole forty years they lived together, 
 saw nothing but poor St. John le Rond, the foundling, in the man 
 who was all that time making Europe resound with his name. 
 And the United States, ever ready to pay a kind of colonial 
 homage to foreign blood and stamps and imprimaturs, have 
 been slow to perceive the excellence of anything of domestic 
 origin : 
 
 " Slow rises worth by cold neglect oppressed." 
 
 With regard to Cooper, the wrong is inflicted not by public 
 opinion, but private animosity. The hcentiousness of the Ameri- 
 
194 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 can press is assuredly a very diflferent thing from what our 
 fathers sought. They never contended for the freedom of black- 
 ening the fair fame of private individuals, and had not the re- 
 motest intention of transforming a telegraph of public events into 
 a tremendous vehicle for the outpouring and diffusion of private 
 hatred. Say what they will, Cooper will live as long as letters 
 shall survive. His works are grafted into the literature of all 
 nations ; and, till that shall be destroyed, long after the red man, 
 driven from hill to valley, and flying before the steps of civiliza- 
 tion, — that is, rum and bloodhounds, shall have ceased to exist, — 
 so long will Cooper be remembered, hke Leatherstocking, the 
 first to penetrate, and the first to gain a settlement in the unknown 
 wilderness of American literature. 
 
 Something I wished to add on a more entertaining topic, but 
 the steam-ship will not wait, and the wanton nerve of a defective 
 tooth is just now amusing me with its gambols. The poor thing 
 is not an unapt emblem of many a man we meet with in the 
 world, always fretful and disagreeable, often off"ensive to the 
 public taste, and sometimes even outraging private feeling, he is 
 yet flattered, coaxed and borne with, merely for the gold which 
 he possesses. 
 
XXXI. 
 
 Prison des Jeunes Detenus — Results of the Solitary System — Depot 
 
 DE CONDAMNES PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF THE CoNVICTS ThE FaCE 
 
 AN Index of Character — Employments, Privileges, and Manners 
 OF the Prisoners — The Sympathising Turnkey. 
 
 My last letter concluded with a description of that prison in 
 Paris, called Maison Centrale D' Education Correctionelle, or the 
 Prison des Jeunes Detenus ; but I was under the necessity of bring- 
 ing it to a close, before any adequate account of this remarkable 
 institution could be completed. This extraordinary structure has 
 been mentioned ; its tenants ; their diversions, and some of their 
 employments. In addition to those already alluded to, I saw 
 specimens of carving, in oak and mahogany, executed by the pris- 
 oners, of great elegance. The carvers are also skilful in design. 
 This is not acquired by means of plates or engravings, but by the 
 presentation of the object itself, or a plaster cast to the pupil 
 for study. As practical usefulness is the end of all this applica- 
 tion, their attention is directed principally to the copying of carv- 
 ings or casts, representing old wood sculpture. The proceeds of 
 their industry are laid aside, and given them, when they go out, 
 that they may not, by the temptations of want, be drawn to the 
 commission of crime to supply themselves with the absolute ne- 
 cessaries of life. Two small holes in the door enable the person, 
 who has the care of them, to inspect their proceedings with facil- 
 ity ; and at the same time furnish the tenants with the means of 
 calling either the teacher or officer by placing in them a small 
 stick. 
 
 The prisoners no longer go to the chapel to attend mass, but 
 are present there by a theological fiction, notwithstanding they 
 are, during the whole service, personally in their cells. The value 
 
 195 
 
196 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 of this fiction every one, who is conversant with the frequent oc- 
 currence and efficacy of similar ones in the venerable science of 
 the law, will be able to appreciate. The ingenuity of the inven- 
 tion cannot be too highly esteemed, which is indeed susceptible of 
 very extensive application, as it enables the priest to say prayers 
 and preach without any immediate visible audience, who may in 
 the meantime stay at home, and receive as much benefit, as if 
 they had been physically present. There is little, if any, appear- 
 ance of gloom in the faces of these juvenile offenders. One, who 
 had been there four years, told me, " it was very comfortable, 
 though sometimes, he regretted, rather sober." '* Ah !" says the 
 guide, laughing with the young fellow, *' they sometimes fret a 
 little for the first week after entrance, but soon get accustomed 
 to the place," 
 
 But the principal question is not yet noticed, which is, the effect 
 of this mode of treatment compared with its opposite ; and this is 
 the agreeable ingredient in this investigation. Notwithstanding 
 all the fine reasoning, that has been employed with so much 
 power, the mind cannot yet be entirely divested of the first deep 
 sentiment of horror, created by the silent cell with its perpetual 
 lonely tenant. There is something so dreary and distressing at 
 such a sight, and even in the bare imagination of it, that a benev- 
 olent man hastens to turn to its results for the purpose of recon- 
 ciling himself to such a plan. And if, by the operation of the 
 silent system, eighty out of every hundred convicts return to their 
 wallowing in the mire, but by the solitary principle , the tables 
 are turned, and eighty prisoners out of every hundred are 
 redeemed, and ''sin no more," as is the fact, do not such inesti- 
 mable consequences compensate for what, I really think, is only 
 an apparent inhumanity of the scheme ? Does it not seem almost 
 a miracle to restore to the community, ignorant, wretched, desti- 
 tute and vicious beings, converted, after a temporary seclusion 
 only, into educated and \irtuous citizens, having money at their 
 disposal, the earnings of their industry, and a trade, which will al- 
 most insure them the easy acquisition of more ? When the public 
 safety has been secured, all punishment afterwards degenerates 
 into vengeance, and the law, whose single aim should be the 
 
THE DEPOT DE CONDAMNES. 197 
 
 public good, becomes a mere lex talionis. But justitia should be 
 regina virtutum, and ic ought not to be forgotten, that* among 
 the hecatombs, which are continually offered on her altar, are 
 victims for whose real welfare, as well as that of the state, those 
 siicrifices are made. The number here confined is four hundred 
 and twelve. 
 
 The spacious structure opposite, is the Depot de Condamnes, to 
 which all convicts, sentenced to imprisonment for hard labor 
 during any considerable length of time, are sent ; those however 
 condemned for any period beyond a year remain there, only till 
 they can be transported to the galleys in the various parts of the 
 kingdom. Such also, as are sentenced to death, are kept here, 
 till their execution. To these last two prisons the home-sounding 
 name of Tlie Tombs might be appropriately applied. Their situa- 
 :ion, too, in close proximity to Pere la Chaise, would seem to favor 
 the nomination. 
 
 This building was erected on the plan of M. Gau, in the short 
 space of eighteen months, at a cost of one hundred and fifty thou- 
 sand dollars nearly. It lies in the form of a hollow quadrangle, 
 making the contained court one hundred and eighty feet in length 
 by one hundred and fifty feet in breadth. It is three stories high, 
 the lower of which is occupied by workshops, and the upper by 
 the cells of the prisoners. Each one, on arrival, is immersed in a 
 bath, and assumes a suit of gray cloth instead of his own. He 
 enjoys the liberty however of wearing such shoes, hnen and hat, 
 as he wishes, if he can procure them himself. From a number 
 of trades, which are constantly prosecuted, one is found which 
 he either knows already, or which is thought to be most adapted 
 to his talents. This he is obliged to pursue, whether it be the 
 last, the needle, iron work, or any other craft. If he refuses to 
 labor, as it sometimes happens, the rebel is introduced into the 
 dungeon — the only punishment in use — where he is left to chew 
 the quid of reflection, sometimes for six or more weeks, on the 
 antiphlogistic diet of bread and water, till his reverence for law 
 and order has got the master of his contumacy. Submission to 
 wholesome authority is almost the only growth, to which the 
 dark, damp atmosphere of a dungeon is at all favorable ; but this 
 12 
 
198 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 is in general quite certain to succeed with the help of the before- 
 mentioned regimen. This cachot, as it is called, is a room about 
 ten feet square, without furniture of any sort. Its hard oaken 
 and pohshed floor suffices for chair, bed and table, having neither 
 straw nor any other substance to moUify its surface of flint for 
 the repose of weary bones. A small grated hole in the door, 
 some three inches square, is the only aperture for light. 
 
 A most sorry sight are these convicts, especially as I saw them 
 on entering the court, where they were all together, spending their 
 hour of recreation in promenading. As confinement here — with 
 hard labor, and, in many cases for life — is the highest punish- 
 ment, next to death, pronoimced by the law ; I was of course 
 surrounded with a very choice collection of miserable wretches. 
 All persons are aware of the endless variety in human faces, 
 though few rarely think of the cause ; or perhaps, without 
 troubling themselves much about it, carelessly take it for granted, 
 that they are such as nature gave them. A grievous mistake, as 
 it appears to me — for I look upon it in a more transcendental 
 light — if it is not heresy to write the word. I deem the face to 
 be the window, through which the spark of divinity shines out, 
 that animates the man. The idiot is senseless, and accordingly 
 'his inexpressive features hang down with gross stupidity, giving 
 notice to all, that the ethereal tenant is no longer there. More 
 particularly still, a man's character may be very well read in his 
 countenance ; and all the better for its being strongly marked. 
 This is vastly preferable to feeling for it, like the phrenologists, 
 through thick masses of hair lying unequally over the cranium. 
 It is also much more convenient, natural, and useful. It might 
 with good reason be expected, that men should be endowed with 
 the ability to judge in some way of the qualities of one another, 
 for self-defence, if for no other reason. Through what avenue 
 so natural and easy could this important knowledge be trans- 
 mitted, as that of sight, the channel of so large a proportion of 
 our other information ? But if the precious intelligence must be 
 derived — or not at all — by first making oneself master of another 
 man's caput, how obviously may the revelation be withheld by 
 merely defending the citadel from capture. In that case, the 
 
PHYSIOGNOMY. 199 
 
 excellent direction in the cook-book for boiling a turbot, is in 
 point, ** first catch the fish !" On the contrary, if we have need 
 in our intercourse with the world to know the real characters of 
 those we meet, it is philosophical to infer, that the means afford- 
 ed us to obtain the information will be adequate to that end. 
 They must therefore be susceptible of rapid application, because 
 the occasions for their use are sudden, unexpected, and often 
 transitory. They will neither admit delay, nor submit to ma- 
 chinery, which would be quite as much out of place, as a slate, 
 and book of arithmetic to help one's reckoning in the market. 
 
 But the muscles of the face, we know, are common to all, and 
 give it its expression. Every man possessing similar muscles 
 can express the same emotions, though riatm-e seems in many 
 instances to have been in a merry humor, when she put 
 together some features that I wot of. These may be so fre- 
 quently called into action by particular passions and emotions, as 
 finally to stiffen into their permanent expression, like the corporal 
 members of a Hindoo devotee. The cunning rogue and daring 
 cut-throat cannot help hanging out upon their fronts infallible 
 signals of what they are ; but yet they try to wear a mask, as 
 natural as possible, to render that equivocal at least, which they 
 cannot entirely conceal. Under these dubious colors multitudes 
 in all the professions and crafts of life continue to sail along the 
 stream, better in the fog than in the broad sun-light ; their 
 actions contradicting their pretensions ; and both belieing their 
 real characters and deceiving their patients, their flock, and their 
 clients. But such ** wolves in sheepskins" are not often very 
 dangerous beyond a limited gullible circumference ; they are 
 ''known and read of all men" in the world outside of that 
 charmed circle. We see in the wild Indian, who is uncontam- 
 inated by his fatal scourge — the white man — unequivocal traits 
 of his real disposition playing on his copper countenance. 
 
 The intention of this diixression is to add a feature or two to 
 the picture of the vicious men, who thronged around us in the 
 court, in number about five hundred. Here were housebreakers, 
 burglars, murderers, assassins, specimens in short of every shade 
 of crime, that darkens the face of society. While the jailor left 
 
200 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 me alone to search for a key, I amused myself with the comfort- 
 able reflection, that if one of these miscreants should happen to 
 desire the diversion of strikinor me on the head, or stabbinor me 
 to the heart, what was there to restrain him from such an indul- 
 gence ? Not fear certainly, if some people may be believed, 
 whose humanity to the convict is cruelty to the victim ; for he is 
 now condemned to the worst species and highest grade of punish- 
 ment, in their opinion, within the rightful power of man to inflict 
 — exclusion for life. I could read robber and cut-throat enorrav- 
 ed on the countenances of nearly all, as they passed me with 
 scowls of anger or hatred, because I was free, and they them- 
 selves were irrevocably chained. 
 
 In the middle of the court was a fountain, where they were 
 permitted to wash themselves ; and on one side a shop, where any, 
 who had money, might buy better food, more comfortable shoes 
 than the heavy wooden sabots given them by government, and 
 even wine to drink ; but this is a limited quantity per diem. 
 This money is the donation of friends allowed to Aisit them in 
 the parloir, and bring with them such things as are not deemed 
 injurious. The bread thus given is always cut up and thorough- 
 ly examined, to see if it is really what it seems, lest any instru- 
 ment be introduced with it to facihtate escape — an event here 
 entirely miknown. 
 
 The lower story is divided into several shops, where work of 
 various sorts is done ; as shoemaking, tailoring, and such hke. 
 No labor is imposed so arduous as cutting stone, which is, how- 
 ever, a very common one in American prisons. One branch of 
 industry is particularly applicable to the Maitres (TEcohy who 
 may chance to find themselves scholars here, and that is, penmak- 
 ing. A quill is cut into a pen, which is then separated from the 
 stock, and a new pen made as before and cut oflf, till the quill is 
 exhausted. These are nearly in the shape of steel pens, are in- 
 tended to be fixed in handles as those are, and are much used by 
 book-keepers and others. 
 
 The food is similar to that in other prisons. The rooms are 
 large, accommodating often twenty or thirty individuals. The 
 linen is as clean as can be expected, when used by laboring men 
 
THE AMIABLE FELON. 201 
 
 some thirty days. All who wish to attend church on the Sab- 
 bath, are allowed to do so ; but few, as you may suppose, avail 
 themselves of the privilege. 
 
 Fights and quarrels are not unfrequent among the prisoners ; 
 and even the officers occasionally get a blow over the head with 
 a wooden sabot. The jailor informed me that several murders 
 were committed but a short time ago. In one case, a man stab- 
 bed another with a shoe knife in the side, and death ensued in 
 two or three days. He was taken again to court, and tried ; but, 
 it being proved that he was first attacked, he was left to work 
 out his former sentence without addition. In another instance, 
 where the same extenuation could not be alleged, a term of 
 twenty years was extended for life. 
 
 Prisoners are conveyed from here to the Navy Yards, in ve- 
 hicles hke omnibusses, to work out their terms, and, from what I 
 have learnt, they have there nearly the same arrangements as in 
 the prison. To stimulate them to more zealous activity, a quar- 
 ter part of what they earn is given to them. Those who leave 
 the institution have thus the means of commencing an honest 
 hfe : and those who are confined for life, receive their wages in 
 commodities to ameliorate the hardships of their condition, as 
 hnen, and similar comforts. This prison is said to support itself ; 
 the labor of the comicts being sufficient to pay the expenses. 
 
 It is here that those condemned to suffer death upon the guil- 
 lotine are placed. I saw one such sitting in a court, separated 
 from the rest. On one side of him was the guard ; on the other 
 a jailor, who was reading to him a book. His arms were placed 
 in a strait jacket, that he might not commit suicide. The jailor 
 expressed considerable feeling in regard to this indixadual, re- 
 marking, that they deem it an awful thing to hold a fellow-being 
 awaiting a certain and ignominious death ! This is truly an 
 amiable thought, especially considering its source. And there is 
 not a bit of affectation in it, said I to myself, is there ? The 
 philanthropic jailor further told me, " that the convict in question 
 was a very clever fellow^'' although then under sentence, as I 
 learnt, for killing his wife and two children ! 
 
XXXII. 
 
 The CLnriQUE—NELATON— Midwifery — Paul Dubois — Hospital fob 
 Orphans — Sisters of Charity — Private Lecturers — Chassaignac 
 — Cazeaux — LoNGET — Chailly — Breschet — Lajuartine — His speech 
 ON the removal of Napoleon's body — Rumor of his visit to this 
 country — Manner of treating foreigners of distinction. 
 
 Among th« most remarkable of the Paris Hospitals is the 
 Clinique. This is divided between two branches, one of surgery, 
 under the care of M. Nelaton, a man of talent as a lecturer, and 
 an excellent surgeon ; the other of midwifery. It is this latter 
 which I call remarkable, but only because it is of a different char- 
 acter from anything, that can be found in our own country. It is 
 under the care of the most skilful accoucheur in Paris, Paul Du- 
 bois. He has taken the responsible place which his father held 
 before him, and has proved himself fully competent to fill it. 
 He is a man of forty-five or fifty years of age, of medium height, 
 and gentlemanly appearance. His mild blue eye is his most 
 marked feature, and one that gives an expression of gentleness 
 and kindness of heart, which his real character does not belie. 
 His voice is soft and pleasing, and all his actions indicate a man 
 not ostentatiously proud of a position, which he has attained by 
 superior talents — a great contrast to the majority of the Paris 
 medical men of eminence. In short, he is, to give him the high- 
 est compliment that can be paid to any one in his station in 
 France, — a gentleman ; and this implies more than wearing 
 fine clothes — the definition of the word here. He speaks Eng- 
 lish with facility, which makes his communications with Ameri- 
 cans and English the more agreeable. To strangers he is 
 extremely kind and obliging. To me, in an especial manner, he 
 has been particularly attentive. Though coming hither a stran- 
 
 202 
 
MIDWIFERY HOSPITALS. 203 
 
 ger, without any letters or introduction to him, on merely stating, 
 that my great object in visiting Paris was to devote myself to the 
 branch, at the head of which he was, he immediately interested 
 himself in my behalf, and gave me every advantage, which his 
 large institution would afford. His great kindness I shall ever 
 remember with the warmest gratitude. 
 
 It is in this building, more than in any other in the city, that 
 the great difference between the American and French woman is 
 made apparent. Modesty is scarcely known to the women here. 
 They speak of, and do, actions in public, which the Yankee girl, 
 on oath, would scarcely allow that she had ever heard of. For 
 this reason, among others, the midwifery hospitals in Paris are 
 full. All students, who have studied a sufficient number of 
 years, are admitted to the lying-in room. Whenever a female is 
 in labor, a signal is placed at the door indicating the fact. All, 
 who see the notice, enter. The first comer is the accoucheur under 
 the direction of the resident sage-femme. Around the bed a railing 
 keeps off the multitude, who often number fifty or more. I have 
 seen the room crowded during the performance of such operations 
 as are necessary. The patient is uncovered, as the labor advances,, 
 for the benefit of those around. How many of the very lowest 
 classes in the United States would be thus willingly exposed ? 
 Yet hither quite decent women are frequently brought. At the 
 end of the usual time after delivery the woman leaves the hos- 
 pital. Sometimes she takes her infant with her, but much more 
 commonly she leaves it. The pitiful wages she can receive by 
 her constant labor, do not suffice to support more than herself, 
 and that very meagrely, with bread and water. She has no 
 time to spend therefore in the care of an infant. These children 
 are sent to the Hospital des Enfants Trouves ; the healthy are put 
 out to nurse, but the weakly are protected as long as necessary. 
 Women from the country apply at this institution for children to 
 nurse, and receive from four to eight francs per month, in pro- 
 portion to the age of the infant. The average number received 
 annually at this establishment is about four thousand, some two 
 hundred of whom are legitimate. The mortaUty is very great, 
 one in three and a third dying. 
 
204 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 Connected with this is the Hospital for Orphans, one of the 
 finest institutions in the city. They are taken, educated in the 
 common branches, and, at a proper age, apprenticed to dif- 
 ferent calhngs. Here also are received the children of the 
 poor, who, taken sick, resort to a hospital ; during their 
 illness their httle ones are here protected, to be restored, when 
 health shall again permit. Both these institutions are under 
 the care of those most excellent women, the Sisters of - Char- 
 ity. I have already spoken of them, but it was then from 
 a slight knowledge of their character. A more thorough ac- 
 quaintance with them and their duties has given me new reason 
 to pronounce most decidedly in their favor. Their incessant vigil- 
 ance and tenderness for the sick and sufferingr, their utter disre- 
 gard' of themselves and their own comfort, are worthy of exalted 
 praise. They have left all, that the world regards, behind them ; 
 they have discarded the forms of dress, and devoted their for- 
 tunes, talents, their all, to the care of these unfortunates. The 
 world is always loud in the praise of a daughter, who, disregard- 
 ing self, watches devotedly at the bedside of a sick mother. But 
 these sisters have no ties of blood which draw them to the dying 
 pillows of these poor creatures. Their characters are beyond 
 praise, their hves above reproach. The contrast of their black 
 robes with the snowy whiteness of their uncouth caps is not more 
 striking, than the opposition of their lives to those of the world 
 around them. With their beads and cross hanging from one side 
 of their waist, and their bunches of keys on the other, they go 
 from bed to bed, on their silent errand of mercy, moistening the 
 parched lips of one, whispering words of peace to another, al- 
 ways calm and composed, ever ready, ever present ; with a 
 gentleness that awes the quarrelsome, and persuades the peevish 
 and fretful ; asking, looking for nothing from man, and seeking 
 only a crown of immortality in a world beyond the grave. A 
 memorable confession of their excellence is recorded in the fact, 
 that during the horrors of the revolution, which enveloped all 
 classes with unsparing impartiality, this society alone remained 
 untouched. The brutal mob acknowledged its celestial agency, 
 and bowed with reverence. Napoleon, who swept away tlw 
 
PRIVATE LECTURERS, 205 
 
 various religious orders, and broke open the convents and nun- 
 neries, forbore to lay his regenerating hand on this alone. Had 
 the society of Jesus been composed of such materials, they would 
 have been more worthy of the divine name, which they assumed. 
 Men would have respected and venerated them, confessed the 
 justice of their designation, and hailed their order as one of 
 heaven's best gifts to man. Instead of this, they are univers- 
 ally despised and condemned, even their sacred patronymic is 
 turned into a by-word ; and Jesuitism now expresses that dan- 
 gerous compound of priestly hypocrisy, political craft and Machi- 
 avelism, that wanted a name, till the followers of Loyola in- 
 vested it with their own. 
 
 In attending these hospitals and the lectures dehvered at the 
 School of Medicine consists the study of the French student. But 
 the American and foreigners generally, have not time to avail 
 themselves of these public lectures ; for the course on one branch 
 alone is often protracted through three or four years. These are 
 also delivered with a particularity and verbosity quite unnecessary 
 to him who is generally well advanced in his medical education. 
 He comes hither with all that the schools of the United States 
 can give him, or at least is expected to be thus prepared. He 
 does not therefore wish to commence \%^th elementary principles, 
 but to continue, and push still further his investigations of his 
 favorite science. A class of men have consequently sprung up 
 to satisfy this want, to whom they resort. These are persons 
 who are not professors in the school, but are waiting for a 
 vacancy in the expectation of becoming so. They are generally 
 individuals, who have devoted themselves to one branch of study, 
 and when perfect masters of it, give lectures to private classes. 
 This they do for several reasons — to acquire reputation among 
 medical men, and with the pubhc, who see their notices posted 
 at the corners of streets, and are apprized of their pretensions in 
 other ways. Not unfrequently, the gratuity received from every 
 pupil is a considerable motive. This varies with the expense of 
 the experiments introduced, the reputation of the man, and other 
 disturbing considerations, but, as a general thing, five dollars 
 constitute the fee for each pupil for one course of three lessons a 
 12* 
 
206 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 week during six weeks. Several deliver public lectures with a 
 view to facilitate the sale of works, which they have pubhshed. 
 These men are often quite distinguished. Chassaignac and 
 Cazeaux are Ar/reges to the Faculty — a situation of no easy at- 
 tainment. The latter is author of a work on Midwifery of 
 standard worth. His lectures are thronged with American, 
 English and German scholars. Chassaignac, who is eminent as 
 a surgeon, gives a course on surgical operations, in which he re- 
 quires his pupils to perform every operation several times, 
 Chailly, whose work from a translation the American well knows, 
 gives a public course on Midwifery, which I have heard with 
 great profit. His hall is always crowded. Though enthusiastic, 
 he is not so pleasant a lecturer, as his rival just mentioned. 
 
 • Among the most interesting lectures at present are those by 
 Longet, member of the Royal Academy of Physicians, on the 
 functions of the brain and nerves, especially his course with vivi- 
 sections. In these he gives his scholars ocular demonstration of 
 the various functions with a minuteness not dreamt of a few 
 years ago. However satisfactory to the student, the fact cannot 
 be disguised, that operations on live animals are cruel in the 
 extreme ; but, after Alfort, one gets to bearing them without much 
 sentimentality, especially when re-assured by the reflection, tliat 
 science is thereby advancing. Beside these, there are many 
 others, who in this way are at the same time getting money and 
 a name, and fitting themselves for public lecturers in the School 
 of Medicine.. 
 
 Within a few days the distinguished Breschet, the professor 
 of Anatomy, has died. His funeral was attended by many friends, 
 and b)'' delegations from various societies, of which he was a 
 member. His place will be strongly contended for in public 
 concours, of which I have already given an account. His death 
 too leaves an arm chair vacant in the Institute. The winner of the 
 professorship will make sworn enemies of all his competitors ; and 
 the successful candidate for the arm chair will realize his own 
 brilliant hopes, but cause those of many others to be suddenly 
 blighted. Speaking of this society, it is rumored, that one of its 
 shining members is shortly to make a visit to the United States ; 
 
 
LAMARTINE. 207 
 
 I mean Lamartine, the great poet and orator of France, now a 
 member of the Chamber of Deputies. This eminent man is no 
 mercenary reporter, travelling beyond his vocation — sutor ultra 
 crepidam — to procure materials from kindness abused, and atten- 
 tions misplaced, for the purpose of manufacturing a book on his 
 return to pay the expenses of an egotistical tour, and make a 
 small dividend among uneasy creditors at home. A very differ- 
 ent personage from this, he possesses a well earned fame and lofty 
 station. Is it too much to hope, that the sovereign people will 
 succeed for once in governing themselves, and obtain as much 
 credit far the treatment of a noble friend, who shall come among 
 them, as they would be sure to do for that of an enemy, who 
 should land upon their shores? An individual of real worth 
 and dignity likes very well laudari a viro laudato ; but every 
 man is not a caricaturist, and would not be flattered by monkey 
 tricks and exhibitions, whose apparent design was quite as much 
 to gratify the vanity of the host, as to honor the guest, and some- 
 times, if there indeed has been any honor at all, it has not been 
 easy to see, which party has received the most of it. My 
 countrymen are quite too serious a race, and are charged with 
 duties pressing much too heavily to allow them time to run after 
 opera dancers, Vespuccis no better than they should be, or penny- 
 a-line writers. 
 
 We bespeak for Lamartine a wann reception, kind feelings, and 
 no absurdities. Republican in his principles, he is a friend of the 
 people. An ardent admirer of Washington and Lafayette, one 
 of his noblest speeches had their praises for its object. Read a 
 portion of his speech on the disinterment of Napoleon, which 
 filled the chamber of deputies with astonishment at its beauty, 
 when delivered. ** If this great general had been a great man, 
 an irreproachable citizen, if he had been the Washington of 
 Europe ; if, after having defended the country, intimidated the 
 contra revolution without, he had regulated, moderated, and organ- 
 ized the liberal institutions and the advancement of democracy 
 in France, &c. &c. ; — if he had retired, like Solon, or as the 
 le<Tislator of America ; if he had withdrawn, in his disinterest- 
 
208 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 edness and glory, to leave his place to liberty ; who knows, 
 if all that homage of the multitude, who adore that, which 
 oppressed them, would be rendered to him. Who knows, if he 
 would not have slept more tranquilly, and perhaps more neglected, 
 in his tomb ? 
 
 "Lafayette, who recalled to you in 1830 the opinions of '89, 
 as fresh, as untouched, as disinterested, as ineffaceable, as when 
 he first drew them from the fountain-head in the soul of his 
 fnend Washington ; Lafayette reposes under the humble cross 
 of a family tomb, and the man of the 18th Brumaire, the man to 
 whom France owes all, except her liberty, the revolution triumph- 
 ant goes to seek beyond the seas — to make for him an imperial 
 tomb ! The revolution triumphant ! I ask, if upon the soil of 
 France she has a monument sufficiently grand, sufl&ciently holy, 
 sufficiently national to contain him ? 
 
 " Where then place him ? At the Arc de triomphede VEtoile? 
 It is too heathen. The dead is sacred, and his asylum should 
 be religious. And besides, what think you ! if in the future, as 
 we ought to hope, new triumphs shall await us, what trmmpheuvy 
 what general would ever dare to pass by that spot ? This would 
 be to interdict the Arch of Triumph ; this would be to close this 
 door of national glory, which ought ever to remain open to our 
 future destinies ! 
 
 " But be it, that you choose St. Denis, or the Pantheon, or the 
 Invalides, remember to inscribe on the monument, where he ought 
 to be at the same time, soldier, consul, legislator, emperor. Re- 
 member to write there the only inscription which responds, at 
 the same time, to your enthusiasm and your prudence, the only 
 inscription which ought to be made for this unique man, and for 
 the difficult epoch in which you live : a napoleon — seul. 
 
 " These three words, attesting that his military genius has not 
 an equal ; attest, at the same time, to France, Europe and the 
 world, that if this generous nation knows how to honor great 
 men, she knows also how to judge them ; she knows also how to 
 distinguish their varieties, and those who threaten her in their 
 name ; and that in erecting this monument, and there embalming 
 
NATIONAL HOSPITALITY. 209 
 
 this great recollection, she does not wish from these ashes to 
 resuscitate either war, or tyranny, or legitimacy, or pretenders, 
 or even imitators." 
 
 The chamber was carried away with enthusiasm on hearing 
 with what happiness he distinguished the part of glory and that 
 of liberty. This is the sort of man, who is to visit a free country. 
 One, whose principles are "Liberty for all, and in all things. 
 A Government strong, but liberal. The people, the origin and 
 end of all political action. Opinion coming from them and 
 returning to them." No longer young, he goes to America with 
 a mind strengthened, a \dsion corrected, a judgment matured by 
 years and experience. Born in 1V90, he has lived through 
 scenes which tried men's souls. A traveller in his own country, 
 Asia and Africa, he has learnt that each nation has its good 
 qualities, and therefore does not condemn, as vile and uncivilized, 
 everything which differs from the habits and customs of his own. 
 No fear but he will have a welcome in the country where his 
 friend Lafayette's memory will ever live ; but in his reception, it 
 is desirable, that no ridiculous extravagance should make the 
 world imagine, that men of intellect are raroe aves in terris, and 
 that the appearance of a great man in the United States is as an 
 extraordinary an event, as that of Gulliver among the natives of 
 Lilliput ; let them rather show they are accustomed to them, 
 and know how to practise the rites of hospitality with decorum 
 and respect. 
 
XXXIII. 
 
 Spring — French Mothers and Children — Squares in Paris — Their 
 GREAT Utility — Thalberg — His Concert — Motion not Music — Spon- 
 TiNi. the Composer. 
 
 This letter, though bearmg a recent date, was begun, you 
 perceive, a long while ago, and runs through a considerable space 
 of time. In truth, it was a kind of receptacle — ChiflFonier's bag, 
 if you please — like some others which I have sent you, into 
 which odds and ends were thrown for private use, or the amuse- 
 ment of friends. 
 
 When I wrote to you in March, all was cold, uncomfortable, 
 cheerless. If the sun ever showed his face, we took it as a par- 
 ticular favor, just as we do, when a beauty puts aside her veil 
 for the express purpose of imparting those delicious smiles and 
 glances, which are of no sort of use whatever to their possessor, 
 but are known to yield great comfort to quite a large proportion 
 of mankind. Now, delightful spring, thou art come in thy 
 beauty, and never hast thou been more welcome ! Not a cloud 
 has dimmed the heavens for several days ; all is bright and gay 
 and animating. One can feel with the poet : — 
 
 Oh ! qu'apres de rudes tempetes 
 
 II est agreable de voir, 
 
 Que les aquilons sans pouvoir 
 
 N'osent plus gronder sur nos t^tes ! 
 Que le repos est doux apres de longs travaux ! 
 Qu'on aime le plaisir, qui suit beaucoup de niaux ! 
 Qu' apres un long hiver le printemps a de charmes ! 
 
 Ladies — beautiful birds — begin to promenade the streets. But 
 one swallow doth not make a summer. The trees and shrubbery 
 in the gardens are evidently thinking of putting on their green 
 dresses, and their swollen buds foretell new charms. 
 
 210 
 
FRENCH MOTHERS AND CHILDREN. 211 
 
 Louis Philippe's revenue, derived from the letting of chairs in 
 the public gardens, is just commencing. — Yesterday (April 2,) 
 as I passed through the Tuilleries, I noticed that they were 
 nearly all full. Into this garden all persons in soiled garbs, or 
 carrying packages, are prevented from intruding, and in their 
 places are nurses and mothers with their infants and young chil- 
 dren. Here they drive hoop and play with the ball, battledore 
 and shuttlecock, and stretch their Httle limbs in other pleasant 
 pastimes. The French are much more sensible in this matter, 
 than the Yankees, as all Americans are designated. They are 
 not afraid to give their children a breath of fresh air : — 
 II n'est rien de si doux que I'air qu'on y respire. 
 
 Instead of putting the Hvely wee creatures into a cradle, and 
 packing them up like mummies in thick cloth, which compels them 
 to breathe a second time the air contaminated by the first inspira- 
 tion, they take them into the gardens and promenade with them. If 
 sleepy, they repose sweetly in their arms, and respire an atmo- 
 sphere, as pure and uncontaminated, as can be found within the 
 limits of a city. It is far from easy to rouse a community to an 
 adequate comprehension of the inestimable value of anything so 
 very common, as air or water. The city of Boston, among others, 
 is an example of the latter. New- York, to her imperishable honor, 
 has proved, that this vis inertice is not invincible. Dum alii verba 
 incassum fundehant, opus est actum. If the cost has been more 
 than was predicted, the utility will not be less ; and the money, 
 after having circulated through the arteries of the State, will be 
 returned by its thousand veins to the heart again in proper time, 
 after giving growth in its progress, to the noble Croton Aqueduct. 
 But, in Paris, the very air itself is a matter of deep concern ; 
 the government, with that wise, paternal care, which is exerted 
 generally for the benefit of the whole, constructs public gardens, 
 and lays out squares and places in the very heart of the city. 
 This is not, as one at first would be apt to imagine, to add to its 
 beauty merely, and form convenient resorts for promenade or 
 business. Whatever attention may be bestowed on the embcl- 
 ishment of the city with monuments and fountains in the centre 
 of these hundred squares, the main design of their construction 
 
212 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 is never out of sight. Ventilation is the principal aim — health 
 the first object to be attained. After this, the beautifying of the 
 city, and giving objects to be viewed by the people, adapted to 
 excite feelings of bravery and pride in the deeds of the past, and 
 hopeful sentiments of patriotism and courage in the future, are 
 not neglected ; for these help to agitate and purify the atmosphere 
 of the soul. 
 
 Since this was written, I have been to a concert of no ordinary 
 character. The first in his profession ! What a magical phrase ! 
 I feel an involuntary reverence for any one, to whom these words 
 can be justly apphed. I went yesterday with a friend to the 
 shop of a cobbler. " This man," said he, "is the first cobbler in 
 Paris. He is an artist of great fame, and will incorporate a 
 patch with a boot so ingeniously, as to be in^asible almost to the 
 eye ; he is a man of genius." Do you suppose I passed by this 
 indindual as an ordinary man, because his vocation happened to 
 be patching old boots and shoes? By no means truly. I 
 studied his appearance, his features, his character. I meditated 
 whether his talents and perseverance, if turned into another 
 direction, might not have produced another Raphael or Michael 
 Angelo. With impressions akin to these I saw Thalherg — the 
 great composer — the greater performer — the prince of the piano ; 
 and never prince had more absolute sway. What shall I say of 
 him ? What words can express the pleasure I enjoyed ? To be 
 sure, I did not in the manner of many around me, go into a 
 hysteric fit — ^jump up — sit down — writhe with ecstasy — laugh — 
 cry — scream, all at once. No, I sat still, beha\Tng decently, but 
 for all that, not the less pleased, excited, transported. I begin 
 to believe the fable of the old ages, when a musician made no- 
 thing of drawing after him rocks and trees. Thalberg's talent 
 is httle less ; for he draws houses. The pieces, which he played 
 this evening, were all his late productions, and have not as yet, I 
 presume, been published in the United States, They were two 
 fantasias from movements in the operas La Muette de Portice and 
 Don Pasquale — a funeral march with variations — a barcarolle, 
 both his compositions, and a capricio of his on several airs in the 
 JBarhier de Seville. Of these pieces I will say nothing, except 
 
THALBERG. 213 
 
 that they are very beautiful and very difficult, two qualities which 
 many know, are by no means novelties in his compositions. It is 
 the man I wish to set before you. 'Twas an evening concert, 
 commencing at half-past eight o'clock ; the doors opening an 
 hour before. The tickets were all sold more than a week before- 
 hand. At seven o'clock I was waiting at the door for entrance. 
 Being determined to secure an ehgible seat in the pit — it costs a 
 small fortune to a constant frequenter always to sit elsewhere ; 
 and the high prices, even there, guarantying its respectability. — 
 I was there in good season, and took a position near the head of 
 the queue. In a very short time after, there were a hundred be- 
 hind me. But the guards preserved the utmost order, as usual. 
 For one half hour I stood there, and then waited an hour in the 
 house, before the performance commenced. But without count- 
 ing six francs for the ticket, it costs something, you perceive, to 
 go to a concert, or theatre. Every seat in the beautiful salle of 
 the Italian Opera House was occupied. On the stage also were 
 placed in chairs some hundred and fifty. The orchestra was 
 partly boarded over, and here the grand piano was placed. 
 
 Has the king deigned to enter, that such enthusiastic applauses 
 are ringing around the theatre ? Yes, it is the king — but not of 
 the French. It is the great descendant of Apollo. And, along 
 with his powers of music, he inherits a portion of his beauty. 
 He is a person of good size and figure, but not large. His rp- 
 pearance is modest and extremely prepossessing. Owing to the 
 distance at which I sat, I would not wish to describe his air and 
 person minutel3\ It is, however, perfectly apparent, that his 
 complexion is light, his hair brown, his nose aquiline — without 
 whiskers or mustache — and that he has probably completed, so 
 far as a judgment could be formed by fallacious gas-light, his 
 fifth climacteric. After numerous bows in return for the plaudits 
 that welcomed his approach, he sat down at the piano, and ran 
 his fingers carelessly over the keys — surely that is no common 
 instrument ! The tones, which follow his negligent touch, are 
 not like any sounds that I have ever heard before. The subject 
 is far beyond my pen. Mrs. Child must hear him, and, shutting 
 her ey^s to the gross creation about her, open them on the celes- 
 
214 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 tial world and the thousand harpei-s. The wildest frenzy of an 
 imaginative mind would not, however, approximate the reality, 
 which was here to be actually seen and heard. I have examined 
 with infinite delight a great variety of machines, from the tiniest 
 horologe through all the gradations of grace and strength up to 
 the mighty engines, which propel the Atlantic steamers through 
 a stormy ocean, and fill the beholder with wonder and awe — and 
 some of them seem almost lo have borrowed inspiration from 
 above — yet I feel that nothing, among all the highest works of 
 man, can be brought into comparison for a moment with the 
 creations of the Almighty. Man originates no power, and in his 
 grandest operations simply avails himself of the latent energies of 
 water and the electric fluid. " The greatest piece of mechanism 
 is the human hand," which, actuated by the propelling agency 
 of the will, regulated by persevering practice and directed by 
 genius, far surpasses all human inventions. This remark never 
 appeared so striking, as while I listened to the astonishing exem- 
 phfication of its power, which Tvas going on in my presence this 
 evening. 
 
 With Thalberg every thing is calm, collected — no grimaces, 
 no writhings of the body. A furor was excited some two years 
 ago in the United States by a second or third rate artist, called 
 
 Miss S . Every body was in raptures. Her houses were 
 
 crowded — old men and women put on their spectacles — what 
 for ? To see music ? Not exactly — but to see her efforts, the 
 movements of her body, forward and back, sidewise, otherwise, 
 and rotatory. To see the smiles, which opened so many dimples 
 in her face, as to resemble small-pox marks ; to see the self-com- 
 placent air, with which she threw up her white and well-formed 
 *' pieces of mechanism," and turned upon her music stool to receive 
 the overwhelming plaudits of the first and second childhoods pres- 
 ent, who exclaimed, — ** Only see how she plays !" But Thalberg 
 is quiet and still. Not a muscle in his countenance is disturbed 
 — not an unnecessary motion of his body occurs. Nothing 
 escapes to show the difficulties he is surmounting. A person, 
 ignorant of music, might imagine, that all is simple and easy, as 
 a game of the Graces. 
 
SPONTINI. 215 
 
 At the close of the concert, the call for him was unanimous ; 
 and, in obedience to it, he came forward, while the room was 
 ringing with cries for his celebrated fantasia on a movement in 
 Moses in Egypt — the funeral march, and other pieces — each one 
 asking for his own favorite. He played one of them, and his first 
 and last concert in Paris this season was ended. 
 
 There was a very ugly man present. He had a pug nose 
 stuck upon the front of his face, an immense mouth, black hair, 
 black eyes, sunk deeply in his head, and a head deeply sunk in a 
 white cravat. He is gazing at everybody in the house through 
 the medium of a large opera glass. Who is he, do you ask ? — 
 Why it is Spontini, the great composer. He has recently receiv- 
 ed the order of conferred upon him and Mendelsohn — I 
 
 think the name is spelt so — by the king of Belgium. 
 
XXXIV. 
 
 CosTE ON Embryology — Party at Mr. D.'s — Donne's Lectures on the 
 Circulation of the Blood — Oxygen and Hydrogen Microscope — 
 Photo-Electric Microscope — English Episcopal Church — Palais 
 Royal — Healy, the Painter — Veterinary School — Scientific 
 Cruelty to Horses. 
 
 Yesterday I commenced attending a course of lectures on 
 Embryology, by M. Coste, which was begun a day or two ago. 
 Notwithstanding a violent rain, among the company assembled 
 in the lecture room in the College of France, was quite a number 
 of women. This college enrok among its professors some of the 
 most eminent men ; among them, Guizot, the present minister, 
 and Villemain, till very lately, minister of public instruction. 
 Villemain is at the head of the anti-jesuit party, and has been 
 troubled of late with a disease which has paralyzed, if not de- 
 stroyed, his faculties. The Jesuits have seized the occasion in 
 their instructions to their young children, to declare that " God 
 was angry with this party, and had stricken their head with a 
 grievous malady." 
 
 The evening when the preceding letter was written, I went to 
 
 a party at Mr. D r's. It was a small assembly of Americans, 
 
 with the exception of one or two English, and I have not enjoyed 
 myself less, I am sure, at any one this winter. The unsocial 
 habits of the Yankees cling to them like purse-pride to a rich 
 man, and are almost as disagreeable. How preposterous to allow 
 a previous unacquaintance to fasten a padlock on every mouth ! 
 Have they not been requested to come together for the very 
 purpose of making that acquaintance ? But he has not been in- 
 troduced. Is it so? Did not Mr. D., for example, give a 
 general introduction and certificate of good character to all his 
 
 216 
 
 I 
 
DONNE'S LECTURES. 217 
 
 company, when he issued his letters of invitation, and admitted 
 them to his drawing-room ? Had the company been French, I 
 should have been certain to pass a charming evening. Away with 
 this frigid reserve, by which hearts can never be united, unless by 
 freezing together. It is neither Christian, politic, nor polite. 
 These icy manners not only impair the happiness of all within 
 their atmosphere, but induce a reaction — ay, they recoil and con- 
 geal the heart's blood of the cold formalist who fosters them, I 
 have no desire to mingle m American circles, and probably shall 
 not hereafter, as my sojourn here is drawing to a close, and the 
 visiting season is over. There is no lack of business to occupy all 
 my time. My daily augmenting knowledge of the advantages of 
 Paris suggests a thousand things to be performed. My days are 
 occupied with lectures of various kinds, my nights with study, 
 writino- and visitino: mv French fiiends. 
 
 Among the lectures, there was one given by Mons. Donne, at 
 the College of France. It was rather a supplementary lecture, 
 illustrating some previous ones, which he delivers in the day. 
 The experiments he made, were intended to show the circulation 
 of the blood, and they succeeded capitally. The object was ac- 
 complished by means of an instrument, called the oxy-hydrogen 
 microscope. It is a species of magic-lantern. The light, which 
 is intense, is produced by the ignition of a piece of charcoal, and 
 directing upon it jets of oxygen and hydrogen. The objects to 
 be viewed are then placed in a proper situation, and their reflec- 
 tion, highly magnified with a powerful microscope, is thrown 
 upon a white field. The disc was nearly three feet in diameter. 
 The tongue of a frog, exposed in this manner, was shown so 
 perfectly, that every vein and artery were distinctly visible, and 
 also the minute follicles upon it. Another exhibition was the 
 tongue of a live frog. The blood could be plainly seen rushing 
 through the veins with great rapidity, and a great deal swifter in 
 the arteries. This, too, proved conclusively, that the blood is 
 formed of minute globules ; for in the large veins, they could be 
 observed rolling over one another, and tumbling along like the 
 waves of a river. Many of the veins were of so small a size, 
 that one of these globules was too large to pass with ease, and 
 13 
 
218 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 for two at a time, a passage was utterly impossible. The feet of 
 flies, their probosces, wings and other parts, lice and similar 
 insects, were shown in this way. The colors of a butterfly's 
 wing were perfectly displayed, and with exquisite beauty. He 
 has just begun his course, and I intend to follow him regularly 
 in future. 
 
 The Photo Electric Microscope is a new instrument, at least to 
 me. It is somewhat on the same plan, as the oxy-hydrogen mi- 
 croscope, a description of the action of which has been just given. 
 In this instrument light is produced not by two gases, but by 
 burning a piece of charcoal with a galvanic battery, composed of 
 alternate plates of zinc and charcoal, which is much more power- 
 ful, than the usual battery of zinc and copper. 
 
 I went to another of Coste's led u.es to-day, and wish that you 
 could hear him. Modesty must ik'\ er stand in the way of science, 
 and, for the sake of listening to this celebrated man, one might be 
 excused for overlooking the many natural and unavoidable indeli- 
 cacies, connected with the subject of his investigations. It does 
 seem queer though, even in France, to see women attending his 
 lectures with remarkable regularity. 
 
 Sunday evening. For the first time, since I have been in 
 Paris, I have been to church, that is, a dissenting church ; and I 
 think most probably, that it will be the last. This church is the 
 English Episcopal, and the bishop of Paris is the officiating cler- 
 gyman. On arriving there, I found, in order to obtain admit- 
 tance, that it was necessar}?^ to buy a ticket. This I thought 
 was strange. However I paid my franc — the price nearly of a 
 seat in the pit of a theatre — and gave my tij^ket to a door-keeper 
 sort of person, who pointed me to a seat. Were I to live in Paris, 
 and had no other choice, I should certainly worship with the Cath- 
 olic in preference to the Episcopalian, for more reasons than one. 
 They get but few converts, I think, at that price. I heard pray- 
 ers read with a languishment most efficacious in putting half the 
 audience to sleep. The sermon, which, if a " boughten one," 
 must have been cheap, succeeded in procuring repose for the 
 remaining portion of the assembly, with the exception of many 
 impenetrable people, who were continually going out, during the 
 
HEALY, THE PAINTER. 219 
 
 whole service of two hours and a half, to the number, I suppose, 
 of forty at least. This I should have done myself, but, in the 
 spirit of yankeedom, I was resolved to get the value of the con- 
 sideration stipulated in the bargain at the door. 
 
 After this unpleasant episode, I was fain, in order to recover my 
 good humor, to go to the Palais Royal, which is opened on Sun- 
 days only, for the inspection of strangers with passports, and na- 
 tives with billets or tickets. This edifice is remarkable more for 
 the events that have occurred within its walls, than for any thing 
 it now contains. It possesses however some fine pictures, which 
 amply repay examination. The most curious article is a table — 
 about the size of our card-tables, when shut — the top of which, 
 on a careless observation, would seem to be of marble, A delib- 
 erate inquisition discovers it to be formed of petrified wood. 
 
 The Louvre, in addition to many of the works of the old mas- 
 ters, contains, as is well known, those of li\dng artists, deposited 
 for inspection, A similar exhibition is made during two or three 
 months every year. Among them is an excellent portrait of our 
 minister to this court, Mr, King of Alabama, painted by Healy, 
 of Boston, Massachusetts- The likeness is admirable ; no one 
 can see it without being struck with its fidelity, Mr. Healy's 
 reputation has extended to the throne, and the king pays a deli- 
 cate compliment, at once to our countrymen and our country, in 
 commissioning him to present to him on canvas the features of 
 some of our most distinguished citizens. 
 
 From time to time I have remarked upon some of the valuable 
 public institutions with which France abounds. One of them is 
 the Veterinary School at Alfort, There are two others at Lyons 
 and Toulouse. Though this one at Alfort has less land and 
 smaller accommodations than the others, it is their equal in the 
 number of pupils and patients. The former are limited to three 
 hundred between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five. The fee is 
 three hundred and sixty francs per annum. Forty are placed 
 there by the minister of war, and are destined for the depart- 
 ment of cavalry. Qualifications for entrance consist in a know- 
 ledge of reading, writing, arithmetic, grammar, and smith's work. 
 The regulations are rigid in the extreme ; indeed the pupils are 
 
220 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 almost under military discipline. Tliey are compelled to rise at 
 five o'clock — six in winter — go to bed at nine, wear a regular 
 Tiniform, (fee. Permission to leave the yard is obtained but sel- 
 dom ; one detected in scaling the walls and going to the city, 
 or elsewhere, is punished by expulsion. A common penalty is 
 solitary confinement for two or more days. The young man 
 who conducted us round the premises, showed us the swine that 
 were fed on the flesh of the dead horses, that had been killed 
 there ; and complained, that the government was trying an ex- 
 periment upon them ; to me, the experiment appeared to be tried 
 upon the pupils. For these creatures, after being fattened thus 
 on animals diseased, were afterwards served up for the dinners 
 of the students. As yet, he stated, no ill result had followed, 
 the stomach having proved to be an alembic, where the gastric 
 juices removed infectious qualities. I forbore some remarks, 
 which were rising to my tongue, from a tender respect to the 
 dinner, on which he was to regale that day. 
 
 The appearance of these young men was very prepossess- 
 ing ; infinitely superior to that of the French students, who fre- 
 quent the Paris hospitals. When they enter the army, they be- 
 come under-officers, and the chief veterinary surgeon ranks with 
 lieutenants. The last is a recent advantage obtained with very 
 great difficulty, having been most strenuously opposed in the 
 House of Peers. The course of study requires a period of four 
 years for its completion. The patients are horses, dogs, and 
 homed animals. These are visited every morning by the 
 physician attended by the students. The stables are perfectly 
 clean, neat, and ornamented with bright brass. In one of them 
 I saw a case of pneumonia. At the indication of the physician, 
 we ausculted the beast, and heard distinctly the subcrepitant rale. 
 It was the first time I ever thougcht of thus examininor a horse. 
 Everything is on the same scientific plan. The anatomy of that 
 animal has almost the same nomenclature, as the human. 
 Twelve pupils serve as night-watchers of these creatures, and 
 receive all that may come, ha\ing fractures, cohcs, or any other 
 disease. Among other curiosities there was a dog afflicted with 
 chorea, or St. Vitus's dance, and a cow with phthisis. Dogs pay 
 
THE VETERINARY SCHOOL. 221 
 
 ten cents a day, and horses fifty, for medical attendance and 
 nourishment. In the operation of " nicking" horses, instead of 
 making numerous sections of the muscle on the inside of the tail, 
 as is practised by the English and Americans, the French remove 
 the muscle entirely. 
 
 There is a fine Anatomical Cabinet, which well repays a lover 
 of Comparative Anatomy ; beside one of Pathological Anatomy, 
 exhibiting specimens of calculi, ostea- sarcoma and other maladies. 
 
 Thus far I have mentioned portions of the establishment, which 
 may be considered interesting and agreeable to all. But there is 
 another department, which does not possess this recommendation, 
 and though a veiy useful feature in the institution certainly, I 
 can scarcely dare to say, that it is necessary. I refer to the 
 operations, that are made upon the living animals. I will give 
 you some description of them, and if it shocks your feelings, and 
 makes your blood run cold, my justification is, that such things 
 are, and should be told and known. Let the authors of fictitious 
 cruelties answer for their loathsome delineations, whose immedi- 
 ate tendency is to harrow up the sensibilities of the soul, make the 
 reader wretched for the time, and afterwards callous to real suf- 
 fering, and all for what ? Would you believe it ? — for amuse- 
 ment! 
 
 The government provides poor old worn out horses for the use 
 of the students, to accustom them to operate, and give them fa- 
 cility of execution. The unhappy creature is led in, snorting and 
 tremblinfj, at the sio^ht of and smell of blood around. Before he 
 has time to recover from his amazement, his legs are drawn firmly 
 together, and he is thrown to the ground. A rope is twisted 
 with a stick around his upper lip, so that his head is perfectly 
 commanded. He lies prostrate and powerless. A dozen pupils 
 leap upon him, and begin their horrid operations. With red hot 
 iron his skin is cauterized in every part of the body, where the 
 cautery is ever apphed. One cuts off two inches of the tail, a 
 second two more, another takes out the muscle, and a fourth a 
 bone, till that member is entirely gone. Every variety of shoe is 
 put upon him, his hoofs are cut to the quick, experimental nails 
 are driven in, as if they were accidental, and dug out again. 
 13* 
 
222 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 Imaginary wounds are probed. The ears are then cut out, the 
 eyes extracted. Every artery in the body is ** taken up," opera- 
 tions for tenotomy performed, beside many other acts of refined 
 scientific torture. In the meantime, the poor helpless animal 
 struggles and flounders, sighs, weeps, groans, screams. He can- 
 not move. The blood oozes from a hundred orifices, ** those 
 poor dumb mouths," till finally death, the angel of mercy to the 
 miserable among men and beasts, comes to his relief : — 
 
 " And th' o'erloaded slave flings down his burden 
 From his gall'd shoulders, and, when the cruel tyrant, 
 With all his imps, and tools of torture round him, 
 Is meditating new, unheard-of hardships ; 
 Mocks his short arm — and, quick as thought, escapes, 
 Where tyrants vex not, where the weary are at rest." 
 
 Who would be an omnibus horse ? A fair retort is, who would 
 be a man ? Ay, there have been men, remember that ! and 
 thousands of them too, who have inflicted worse torments than 
 these even on their fellow men. Is it possible ? And what for ? 
 For religious and political creeds — because they differed in opinion, 
 thafs all ! 
 
 In this way a dozen horses are sacrificed twice a week ; — yes, 
 for years — twice a week — from five in the morning till five in the 
 evening, this dreadful butchery is going on. What think you of 
 the "Chourineur" in the Mysteries of Paris? "Truth is 
 stranger than fiction " — no news to m^, I assure you. Horses 
 with glanders are more fortunate. They are killed immediately. 
 No operations are performed upon them now from fear, one of 
 the pupils having died last year of this as yet incurable disease, 
 contracted in his experiments. 
 
XXXV. 
 
 cjohparison of the parisian and american prisons — society for the 
 Aid of Boys quitting the Houses of Correction — Society for the 
 Aid of Abandoned Girls leaving the House of Correction. 
 
 Having completed my intended description of the various pri- 
 sons of the city where -vdce is prevalent to such an extent, though 
 the account has been already too minute perhaps, you must 
 allow me to make a comparison, in a few particulars at least, be- 
 tween them and those in my own country. In a new region, 
 where multitudes of institutions are yet to be erected, the most 
 minute and apparently insignificant points of information may 
 have a value ; and on this account a review, however superficial, 
 of a few circumstances connected with this great subject, may 
 not be out of place. 
 
 The well-being of society demands, that means shall be adopt- 
 ed to separate its good elements from the bad ; but humanity at 
 the same time requires that the measures resorted to should be 
 as lenient as possible, consistent with security. Another thing is 
 not to be neglected. All the bitter dregs must not be strained 
 out of the cup of the delinquent ; his condition must not be ren- 
 dered almost if not quite enviable to the destitute innocent man, 
 who has not qualified himself by crime to taste the comforts, 
 which sometimes surround the convict. Yet this has taken place, 
 where charity has mistaken her vocation, and left her proper 
 sphere to feed the criminal with luxuries beyond the power of 
 the honest laborer. 
 
 In point of strength there can be little difference between the 
 prisons of Paris and our own. The former are universally con- 
 structed of stone, but ours have the advantage of them in firm- 
 ness of material, as nothing is quite equal to the everlasting gra- 
 
 223 
 
224 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 nite, of which the xV.merican structures are principally composed. 
 The security of prisoners is perfectly well guarantied by nume- 
 rous doors and intricate passages, by walls surrounding many of 
 them, and by numberless sentinels, which the vast military force, 
 now idle, enables the French Government to maintain. Eiscape 
 is absolutely impossible without corruption on the part of the 
 sentinels or jailers. The walls are much loftier than those of 
 similar institutions in the United States, and a long ladder would 
 be requisite to scale them ; ours, on the contrary, may be sur- 
 mounted by the help of two or three barrels placed on one an- 
 other, or any similar contrivance. A great defect noticed in the 
 general construction of the buildings here lies in the manner of 
 fastening the cells ; each one requiring to be separately locked. 
 They are fastened by a bolt and a lock : and in some of them, 
 for example, in the Maison Centrale d' Education Correctionelle, a 
 long entry traverses its entire length ; and into this all the doors 
 open. To fasten them is the duty of three men. One shoves 
 the bolt ; another arranges a boU connected with the lock, which 
 consists of another bolt, a part of which enters into the door lock, 
 like the hasp of the lock of a trunk. The third man turns the key. 
 The means of securing the cell doors employed in the United 
 States are much preferable, consisting of a single bar of iron 
 running through the whole range of cells, which it fastens by one 
 operation. Beside the superior expedition of this process, the 
 security too is greater, because this bolt cannot be moved, unless 
 every door is shut. But here, in the hurry of locking up, a door 
 might be accidentally omitted. The long bar therefore might su- 
 persede with advantage the use of separate bolts, which however 
 are generally sufficient to secure the prisoner with all necessary 
 safety. 
 
 Less regard to neatness and ventilation is seen within the prisons 
 here than in America. The entry walls and floors, being of 
 brown stone, easily conceal the dust and cobwebs, that adhere to 
 them ; these would only be brought into relief by the white- 
 washed apartments of an American penitentiary. Neither is suf- 
 ficient attention paid to the cleanliaess of the convicts. All wash 
 in an open fountain, and wipe themselves on a handkerchief, or coat 
 
PARISIAN AND AMERICAN PRISONS. 225 
 
 sleeve. All wear their beards entirely a la patriarche, and there- 
 fore require no barber. In opposition to Sterne, I am constrained 
 to say ** they do not manage these things better in France." 
 
 In the government of the inmates of French prisons a degree 
 of lenity is shown unknown in ours, and I think, fortunately so for 
 us, as excessive indulgence must very seriously impair the utility 
 of imprisonment. The conversation, which is permitted among 
 the prisoners by the rules, while they are at work, as well as 
 in the hours of recreation, when all are together without restraint, 
 foments disturbances ; produces quarrels among themselves not 
 unfrequently ending in death ; insurrections against the authori- 
 ties and occasionally a general meeting. The labor imposed in 
 American prisons is more severe, and does not therefore render 
 special seasons for exercise at all necessary. The government 
 indeed begins to think better of the solitary principle, and at- 
 tempts in the construction of recent buildings to conform to it as 
 much as possible. Considerable difficulty is felt in the introduc- 
 tion of trades, which will admit the employment of strength suf- 
 ficient to authorize the suspension of the estabhshed seasons of 
 recreation. Stone-cutting is impracticable, because that opera- 
 tion is performed here after the material is placed in the walls of 
 edifices. This practice has obtained in consequence of its tender 
 texture, which exposes it to be marred or spoiled in handhn<»-. 
 Even the friction of the rope, employed to elevate it to its proper 
 position, would inflict a serious injury. 
 
 In the punishment of misbehavior, I think the French are not 
 severe enough. One thorough correction, it seems to me, is 
 more effective than many slight ones. My own experience when 
 at school adds force to this opinion. The lower animals afford 
 illustrations of the same principle. A horse soon becomes insen- 
 sible to perpetual slight cuts of the whip, especially when adminis- 
 tered with the characteristic gentleness of lady equestrians, whose 
 most efficient lashes are those of their eyes. Thus according to 
 
 the old doggerel, 
 
 At first he starts and winces, 
 Then presently he minces. 
 Till fast asleep and dreaming, 
 He thinks all drivers women. 
 
226 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 I dislike exceedingly to see an unruly criminal put into a place 
 of solitary confinement for twelve or twenty -four or even forty- 
 eight hours. Let him stay there, till it becomes decidedly disa- 
 greeable and irksome, and really a punishment ; till the culprit 
 feels a little hungry on his stinted allowance of bread and water, 
 and his bones begin to ache with reposing on the soft side of a 
 pine board ; till the penalty shall be sufficient to hinder at least, 
 if not prevent, the recurrence of a similar OjOfence. The kind- 
 hearted directors have forbidden the master of the Boston 
 House of Correction from keeping any of his turbulant subjects in 
 solitary confinement longer than a definite period without a spe- 
 cial order from them ; and what is the consequence ? Why, all 
 the prisoners know very well this restriction of his powers, and, 
 though the same efficient person remains at the helm, — whose 
 place could not be easily supplied — there is not the same good 
 order as before. At the end of the period prescribed, he is 
 obliged to release the stubborn spirit, that has offended his au- 
 thority, and now defies and laughs at his Umited punishment. 
 The infliction of the cat is not known in these prisons ; and I 
 question if it is used in similar establishments in the United 
 States at the present time, though it was not abolished in the 
 Massachusetts prison, when I \dsited it several years ago. A 
 degradation is attached to it, which has compelled reflecting men 
 to seek some other instrument of equal power to subdue a rebel- 
 lious nature. The shower-bath, so efficacious, especially in the 
 case of women, is not employed here. 
 
 The frequent visits of friends seems to me to be an e\i\. Such 
 often repeated communication promotes the continuance of old 
 plans of action, and the maturation of new ones to be executed 
 after their release. Instead of repentance, a feeling of anger, 
 and perhaps revenge, is cherished both against the laws and the 
 witnesses of the government. This permission ought surely to 
 be cautiously and rarely granted. 
 
 The food of the convicts, though good, is inferior to that in the 
 American penitentiaries, which I have visited. The bread is 
 generally black, but well risen and wholesome. The quantity of 
 meat is very hmited, and given much more rarely than with us. 
 
THE GENTLEMAN CONVICT. 227 
 
 Nothing but water is used for drink, if a light soup is excepted, 
 which may answer the purpose of a beverage. Few objections 
 however of any great importance can be alleged against their 
 general treatment, except the extraordinary distinction made be- 
 tween the rich and poor convict. Strong encouragement is held 
 out to the thief to do a large business, provided he succeeds in 
 retaining the property stolen by concealment, or making a deposit 
 of it in the hands of a comrade. The horrors of a prison retire 
 before him into the apartments of the small felons, who have 
 committed petty larcenies perhaps to save themselves or families 
 from starvation. The music of his gold summons around him 
 many of the comforts of a private mansion ; and very likely he 
 finds little difference between them, except the superior size, 
 more numerous attendants, and greater amount and variety of 
 company in his new home. The brown bread of government is 
 not for his consumption, as he prefers a nice white roll with good 
 sweet butter. In many of the prisons he is not obliged to labor, 
 if he will pay a small daily sum, which the genteel criminal will 
 of course prefer to do ; if he works at all, it must be for exer- 
 cise, as a substitute for his customary diurnal promenade in the 
 Broadway of Paris — the Boulevards. He disdains to wear the 
 coarse shirts and other garments of the ordinary convict, and 
 can by no means think of divesting himself of the principal and 
 most envied marks of a gentleman — the superfine broadcloth. 
 Without these accustomed luxuries he would be unhappy per- 
 haps, and the pursuit of happiness he considers to be not only 
 his inalienable privilege, but positive duty. It is not very com- 
 mon indeed to witness an extent of luxury, like this ; but it is 
 common to see a vast distinction made between the poor and 
 wealthy criminal here and elsewhere. Even in the galleys, those 
 who are sentenced for life, and possess rich friends, are much 
 better off, than they who are destitute of their commanding in- 
 fluence. The sentence of the highest offenders, such as assassins 
 for example, are thus virtually modified in their favor, if they are 
 fortunate in the possession of powerful connections, while others 
 under adverse circumstances, are punished with unrelenting se- 
 verity. 
 
228 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES, 
 
 ' Two Societies are connected with the prisons, whose object is 
 indeed benevolent, but whose success, as well as that of many- 
 similar associations, with which I have been acquainted, falls far 
 below their excellent intentions and deserts. If the good seed, 
 which has been wasted on stony places and among thorns and 
 briars, had been scattered always upon good ground, there would 
 have been sheaves enough produced to banish all ine\itable want 
 from the world. If we have the poor always with us, we have 
 their counterfeits in equal numbers, who are, it must be acknowl- 
 edged, the greatest orators of the two. And these " counterfeit 
 presentments " play their parts with far superior success. For 
 everybody knows, that no real misery ever levied such enormous 
 contributions on a sympathising community, as the nightly actors 
 of fictitious distress. A certain style of acting among the poor, 
 as well as rich, seems to hit the public taste ; and money is often 
 given outside the theatre, as well as within, to the performance, 
 rather than the player. Unquestionably the benevolent are fre- 
 quently deceived, for they cannot prevent their ears /row standing 
 open to every cry, and the most importunate, though least deserv- 
 ing, is apt to drown the rest. As one is also able to hear, where 
 he cannot see, he is in danger from such impulses of making 
 many blunders in the dark. 
 
 This morning, in reading a report of the trials, I noticed the 
 sentence of two women committed to the House of Correction 
 for thus abusinor the tender feelings of their sex. The first solici- 
 
 O O 
 
 ted alms for herself and suffering babe, which she carried wrapt 
 up in her bosom. But the helpless little innocent was discovered 
 on examination to be only a child of worn out cloth and straw. 
 — Was not this a case of a person hterally reduced to rags ? The 
 other, whose appearance denoted her to be on the point of con- 
 finement, frequented the public streets, and as often as a well 
 dressed woman passed, more especially if she was in a similar 
 condition, she became suddenly overtaken with labor pains. 
 Unable to proceed, and too destitute to hire a vehicle, she was 
 kindly provided with money for that purpose, as well as to 
 purchase the commodities which her situation and poverty re- 
 quired. Her case being investigated, the interesting pro- 
 
A NUT FOR THE UNCHARITABLE. 229 
 
 tuberance was found to be produced by a frame of wicker 
 basket work, which very nicely imitated the dehcate peculiarity 
 of women. Yet notwithstanding these, and a multitude of 
 similar instances, I am convinced, that with a moiety of the caution 
 exercised in a man's ordinary business, he may bestow all the 
 charity he has a heart to give, at an exceedingly slight hazard of 
 deception. And in the two anecdotes just related, it is abundant- 
 ly apparent, with what wonderful ease the mystery was unravel- 
 ed. To tell the truth, the examples of imposition are in exact 
 proportion to the indolence of the giver, and the direct conse- 
 quences of his laziness and culpable want of caution. Such a 
 btate of things is exceedingly favorable to the parsimonious, who 
 commonly are most eloquent about impostors, as their number is 
 Just large enough to serve them with an everlasting argument 
 against alms-giving. 
 
 The two Societies which I was about to mention, are La Societe 
 de Patronage des Jeunes Liber es de la Seine, and La Societe de 
 Patronage pour les Jeunes Filles Uberees et delaissees. The former 
 has the care of the boys from the House of Correction, just men- 
 tioned, after exit ; and the latter the poor abandoned girls, when 
 released from confinement. Mons. de Lamartine is president of 
 the latter, that of the former is Mons. Beranger, peer of France. 
 Of the Society for girls I possess no information : but the other was 
 founded in 1833 to watch over the youth in prison, and aid and 
 encourage them after their enlargement. Every member is an 
 active one, and has always one or two under his care, toward 
 whom he acts as guardian, procuring him labor, overseeing his 
 behavior, assisting him with advice, and if necessary with money. 
 This is bestowed by government, and the benevolence of mem- 
 bers. To this Society it is in a great measure owing, that the 
 number of committals has diminished to the extent which I have 
 in a former letter described. Prizes are every year awarded for 
 good behavior, and a report of the Society published. Connected 
 with the department of the Seine are two other Houses of Cor- 
 rection for small offences, and for the suppression of mendicity ; 
 but they are in the adjoining towns, beyond the Hmits of Paris. 
 
XXXVI. 
 
 Church at St. Denis — The Sepulchre of the French Sovereigns — 
 Tomb of Lafayette — Perk la Chaise. 
 
 A FEW days ago, leaving the dust and tumult of the city be- 
 hind me, by help of the great locomotive principle of the day — 
 not steam — but omnibus power, I soon passed walls, boulevards, 
 barriers and fortifications, and found myself in the town of Sf, 
 Denis, two leagues north of Paris. The celebrity of this little 
 place, which has not more than five thousand inhabitants, is en- 
 tirely owing to a Benedictine j^bbey, founded in 250, and to the 
 selection of this church as the burial-place of the French kings. 
 The original edifice, which contained the ashes of the first king 
 known to be buried here, Dagobert, son of Chilperic, was sup- 
 planted by another, built by Dagobert I., and by still another, 
 erected by Pepin, father of Charlemagne. All these have foun- 
 dations. It was then rebuilt by Suger, the abbot of the monas- 
 tery, in 1144. Two towers of this structure still remain. The 
 rest, as it now exists, was added by St. Louis and his successor 
 between the years 1250 and 1281. This venerable church 
 suffered severely during the revolution. The bodies of the royal 
 line, which had down to that period been there interred, were in 
 1*793, by order of the barbarous Convention, disinterred, and 
 thrown into two large trenches dug near. In 1795, the leaden roof 
 was stripped off, and another decree passed to raze to the ground 
 this the most beautiful monument of the architecture of the time. 
 Fortunately this order was not obeyed. Napoleon in 1806 gaw. 
 directions for the restoration of the buildings ; since that time the 
 work has been going on, and though more than three millions of 
 dollars have been expended, it is yet unfinished. The monu- 
 
 230 
 
CHURCH AT ST. DENIS. 231 
 
 ments of the kings have been renovated, new glass has supplied 
 the place of the old, which had been destroyed, and it now asserts 
 its claim to be one of the most elegant edifices" in an architectural 
 view, and the most sumptuous in its decorations, in the kingdom. 
 The walls and ceilings are literally encrusted in gold. The orna- 
 ments are intended to be as near fac-similes of the originals, as 
 possible, some specimens of which, accidentally found, serving as 
 models. There are very few pictures to be seen, but the various 
 shrines are enriched with old sculptures in oak and statues in 
 stone. Many of the crosses are of great antiquity, and the avant- 
 altars are composed of beautiful mosaic. Around the church are 
 numerous monuments of the most magnificent description. Any 
 account of them would be unprofitable ; first, because they have 
 so often been well described ; secondly, because the most perfect 
 description would be useless. They must be seen to be under- 
 stood. The saciisty is embellished with many pictures by the 
 best living painters, which represent the most important events in 
 the history of the church. It contains, likewise, a bronze chair 
 of King Dagobert. The vaults are extremely curious, for there 
 are the ashes of the French monarchs, and the monuments erected 
 to their memory, most of them with statues, and many of them 
 taken from life. Among them is a tomb, closed with bronze 
 doors, made by Napoleon for himself. Death is certain, but the 
 sepulchre is the sport of fortune, and in this monument now re- 
 pose the ashes of Louis XVI. and XVIII. , Marie Antoinette, and 
 some others of the elder branch of this family. The inscription 
 on one monument in the nave of the church particularly attracted 
 my notice. It stated that there lay John, son of Ludovicus, who 
 mirjrated to Christ in the year 1247. Man is truly a bird of 
 passage. 
 
 The vespers gave me an opportunity to hear the new organ 
 lately erected. It is the largest, and, since the loss of that in 
 St. Eustache by fire, the best in France. The power is immense, 
 and, when played in full force, shook the whole edifice. The 
 echoes around the vaults, and through the lofty aisles, were ex- 
 tremely fine. The reed notes I noticed to be particularly excellent, 
 the hautboy and clarionet stops imitating those instruments with 
 
232 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 surprising exactness. Among the priests who officiated, one of 
 the bishops, a fine looking man, was pointed out ta me, as a 
 natural son of Louis XVIII. 
 
 After this hasty description of the final resting place of royalty, 
 the lustre of whose fame, too often dimmed by bad actions, cannot 
 be heightened by marble monuments, or golden inscriptions, come 
 with me, and view the tomb of one, whose character was so spot- 
 less, and fife so pure, that even his enemies are unable to find any 
 thing for blame. Leave behind the ideas of greatness derived 
 from the contemplation of overshadowing gothic buildings, gilded 
 walls, painted windows, and monuments of marble. Forget the 
 name of king, and remember only, that " an honest man is the 
 noblest work of God." Divest yourself of the impressions pro- 
 duced at St. Denis, or — if you must take them with you, — bring 
 them for contrast only, as the painter introduces the dark back- 
 ground into his work, merely to project with greater strength the 
 peculiar features of his picture. To see the remains of the 
 greatest man, that France has produced in modern times, and 
 the purest of public characters ; of one who preserved his in- 
 tegrity untarnished, notwithstanding the corruption around him, 
 
 " Faithful found 
 
 Among the faithless, faithful only he; 
 Among innumerable false, unmov'd;" 
 
 one of the very few, who figured during the scenes of the Revo- 
 lution, Avhose name is venerated by the people of France, esteem- 
 ed by Britons, and embalmed in the hearts of Americans ; 
 whither shall we go ? He reposes not by the side of the kings 
 at St. Denis. Shall we seek him at the Hotel des Invalides under 
 the grand dome, where sleep the ashes of Napoleon ? Shall we 
 look for him in the magnificent Cemetery of Pere la Chaise? 
 Simple in his habits, and unostentatious to a remarkable degree 
 in his manners during life, it is not in such places that he would 
 desire to lay his bones in death. Accompany me then to the 
 Rue de Picpus, in a retired quarter of the city. Here at No. 15, 
 in the private cemetery connected formerly with a convent of the 
 order of St. Augustine, but now a boarding school conducted by 
 the same order, you will be shown a tomb covered with a double 
 
TOMB OF LAFAYETTE. 233 
 
 slab of black stone, such as is used for a similar purpose in the 
 United States. These two slabs are united by a cross, and on 
 each an inscription is cut. No white marble — no golden letters. 
 Contrast this with the monument of Spurzheim at Mount Auburn, 
 so renowned as a model of simpUcity. Compare its scrolls and 
 carnng, the golden letters, with the one before you of ordinary 
 stone, absolutely denied the least ornament whatever. Read its 
 plain inscription, in harmony with the rest, with moistened eyes 
 and beating heart : — 
 
 M. J. P. R. Y. G. B. 
 
 LAFAYETTE, 
 
 Lieutenant-General, Membre de la Charabre des Deputes 
 
 ne k Chavaniae Haute Loire 
 
 De VI Sept. MDCCVIL 
 
 Marie Le XI. Avril MDCCLXXIV. 
 
 A 
 
 M. A. F. de NOAILLES 
 
 Decede -k Paris le XX Mai 
 MDCCCXXXIV. 
 
 REQUIESCAT IN PACE. 
 
 On the other slab a similar inscription records the decease of his 
 wife, who died December 24, 1807. 
 
 Now read a description of the royal vaults at St. Denis. 
 " The walls of the royal vaults are cased with black marble, and 
 ornamented with stone pilasters ; the pavement is of white and 
 black marble, the coffins, some of which are covered with black or 
 violet-colored velvet with ornaments of gold or silver, are placed 
 on iron bars." The tomb of Francis I., and Claude of France, 
 erected in 1550 after the designs of Philibert Delorme, is most 
 simiptuous. The effigies of F. and C. repose on a superb ceno- 
 taph, ornamented with a frieze representing the battles of Marig- 
 nan and Cerisolles. Here the cenotaph rises a grand arch, en- 
 riched with arabesques and basso relievos. Sixteen fluted columns 
 support the entablature, above which are placed five statues of 
 white marble in a kneeling posture, viz. Francis I., Claude his 
 queen, the Dauphin and duke of Orleans, his sons and Charlotte, 
 the daughter. Now, what think you of a black stone with an 
 14 
 
234 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 honest name upon it ; and a lustrous white marble, enriched with 
 gold and statuary, with names like these inscribed ? One, exposed 
 to the elements, but looking up through the pure air into the deep 
 sky, and clasped by the bending and merciful heavens ; the other 
 protected by a fretted canopy of gold, the atmosphere loaded 
 with incense, and the sacred orifiamme waving overhead. 
 
 In connection with this subject, it may be in place to give 
 some notice of the feelings inspired by a view of that cemetery, of 
 which all have heard, and which is one of the first places visited 
 by a stranger. A particular description I shall not attempt, 
 for it is familiar to every one. The great interest, that has been 
 taken during the last few years through the United States in the 
 formation of cemeteries, has caused it to be frequently sketched, 
 and the works of every tourist will give a more or less accurate 
 notion of it. As a whole I was greatly disappointed. Every thing 
 solemn loses in the hands of the French its grave character. 
 The churches with their gilding and pictures resemble the the- 
 atres far more than places for divine worship. This is particu- 
 larly predicable of those of recent construction, such as L'eglise 
 St Vincent de Paule, and Le Notre Dame de Lorette, which are 
 shown to strangers, as worthy of high approbation. So with the 
 cemeteries, and that of Pere La Chaise, of which I am new wri- 
 ting. The street leading to it from the ** Place de la Bastille" is 
 well calculated to prepare the mind for a visit. This avenue is 
 occupied by dealers in tomb stones and funereal garlands, and 
 so large a quantity of sepulchral architecture is spread along the 
 sides of the way, though generally without inscriptions, as almost 
 to make one think, he has already entered the precincts of the 
 consecrated ground. A large gateway, however, marks the en- 
 trance. The gate posts are of stone, plain, with the exception of 
 the carved torches, which form the corners, and the inscriptions on 
 one of "■ Spes illorum immortalitate plena est. Sapient III. IV. ;'* 
 and on the other, ** Qui credit in me, etiam si mortuus fuerit, vivet, 
 Jean II." The gates are of oak. One soon loses the solemn 
 feelings, which he experienced in his walk hither. He finds 
 himself in a cemetery, where rest the merchants of Paris, whose 
 tombs subserve the double purpose of displaying the wealth of 
 
PERE LA CHAISE, 235 
 
 the family of the deceased, and as an advertisement, or sign, 
 for his successor in business. One for instance bore an inscrip- 
 tion like the following : — " Here lies butcher in street, 
 
 number , (fee. This tomb is erected by his affectionate son 
 
 and successor in business at the old stand." The multitude of 
 monuments at first fill one with astonishment, and are put into 
 the ground without any form or regularity. Some are even, 
 others uneven ; they are set sidewise, cornerwise, in any wise, that 
 they can be packed. An oblong of eight feet by three with a 
 railing round and a monument within is succeeded by another 
 oblong, another rail, another monument, and thus the entire ceme- 
 tery is densely stowed, unvaried, except in the variety of the 
 sepulchral architecture, and now and then a union of two, three, 
 or four of these metres, when some rich skeleton would not be 
 contented without a larger space to lie in. Between the tombs a 
 narrow pass of six inches, or one foot wide, leaves room for a few 
 stunted trees, and so the cedar and spruce have contrived to se- 
 cure a foothold. 
 
 If little taste is discovered in the general plan of Pere la 
 Chaise, it is to be found in the tombs themselves separately. The 
 monuments, when isolated, present beauties, which are hidden by 
 their unfavorable situation. They are of all sorts. The most 
 remarkable, such as that of Heloise and Abelard, have been often 
 described. Some of later erection, and those, which for their 
 elegance or peculiarities, struck my attention, I shall venture to 
 sketch, trusting, that I have selected such, as have escaped gene- 
 ral notice. 
 
 It is astonishing to see, how man regards his last resting-place. 
 He, who was all his days content to live in poverty in a garret, 
 when dead, seeks for a mausoleum of marble, to the erection of 
 which the niggard savings of years are to furnish the means. 
 He, who was satisfied to pass a lifetime in obscurity, desires a 
 posthumous immortality. Thus a poor epicier, who hved in a 
 retired street, unknowing and unknown, upon his marble monu- 
 ment has placed his portrait, painted upon canvas, and protected 
 from the winds and storms by a bell glass. Others have casts in 
 plaster of Paris, some painted, these may be found in different 
 
236 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 states of decay in all parts of the grounds. Others, who wish 
 to live longer in the eyes of the world, have them in bronze and 
 marble of all kinds. 
 
 As in all other places of a similar character, many of the mon- 
 uments serve to show respect for the memory of the illustrious 
 personage, who there lies interred. Among these that of Casi- 
 mir Perier, erected not many years ago by the city of Paris, is 
 one of the most remarkable. This monument, situated very con- 
 spicuously in the centre of a large enclosure, was built by a pub- 
 lic subscription, to record their veneration for the great statesman 
 and orator, who for many years, in the highest situations of the 
 government, and as prime minister in 1832, reflected honor upon 
 his native city. On a lofty pedestal, on three sides of which are 
 allegories of Justice, Eloquence and Firmness, in basso relievo, 
 and on the fourth an insciiption worthy of his memory, stands 
 his statue in bronze. It is a noble work of art. One, who offi- 
 ciates as guide around the cemetery, relates to Americans the fol- 
 lowing anecdote : *' A few years since I accompanied a party of 
 Americans through the grounds. On coming to this I remarked, 
 that this statue is said by Americans to bear a very strong like- 
 ness to one of vour most distins^uished men, Daniel Webster, 
 There were few remarks made, but, as we proceeded, one of the 
 ladies informed me, that D. W. was one of the party then pre- 
 sent." I do not see any resemblance myself. Another of more 
 simplicity, raised by private subscription, is to the memory of the 
 celebrated painter Gericault. The front of the tomb is ornament- 
 ed by a cast in bronze of one of his best pictures, which rep- 
 resents a party of wrecked sailors on a raft. The sides have 
 sketches, cut in the free stone, of others of his works, and behind, 
 — which struck me as in exceedingly bad taste, — the names of 
 those, who contributed to its erection, are carefully preserved. 
 Another, erected within a few years, records the death of a sol- 
 dier. It is ornamented with castings of helmets, swords, cannon, 
 spear heads, &c., and bears the inscription, " Decorum est pro 
 patria mori.^' 
 
 Others have inscriptions dictated by family pride. One records 
 the death of Robertson, an aerostat ; upon the side of whose 
 
MONUMENTS OF AFFECTION. 237 
 
 lofty monument of white marble are basso relievos, representing 
 a crowd witnessing a balloon ascension, boys climbing upon a 
 fence, and old men looking over their spectacles. Some English 
 tombs record the death of people of high birth ; but as they 
 themselves, during life, never did any deed worthy of even the 
 short perpetuity of a tomb-stone, the names of all the distin- 
 guished in the family since its existence are emblazoned thereon. 
 Moliere, so long denied a Christian burial, Ues tranquilly at last 
 under a beautiful sarcophagus of white marble, supported by four 
 columns, and surmounted by a vase. Near him La Fontaine, 
 whose marble cenotaph, crowned by a fox in black marble, is 
 ornamented with two basso relievos in bronze of the fable of the 
 " Wolf and Stork," and the " Wolf and Lamb." 
 
 Far more of the monuments record expressions of feeling and 
 sentiment, in which this nation so far excel all others. It is not 
 then surprising, that we find numerous tombs of the most beau- 
 tiful, lovely, virtuous good of the earth ; each of whom their 
 friends fondly imagined to be the best. Many plain slabs, united 
 by clasped hands, whose arms spring from the summit, perpet- 
 uate the virtues of a husband and wife, whom " death had sev- 
 ered, and death had united." Another bears upon it under a bell 
 glass, a piece of embroidery, forming a wreath of flowers, in the 
 centre of which is the inscription, "To my sister," which would 
 look much hke a lamp-stand, if one did not see therein the beat- 
 ings of a warm heart. For the tomb of a dissenting minister a 
 pillar of some ten feet of marble is elevated, surmounted by a 
 cushion, on which is lying an open Bible. The effect is very 
 good. The monuments are mostly hollow with iron doors, and 
 variously adorned with windows of colored glass in cruciform, 
 and other shapes. About the walls are inscriptions of the va- 
 rious members of the family deceased. Some contain busts ; 
 others, small shrines with cross, flowers, &c., and all, of every 
 class and kind almost, have numerous wreaths of artificial flowers, 
 hanging upon the iron fences, or placed in glass cases. Some 
 are quite filled with them, and little statues of saints and pray- 
 ing children, in plaster. To many are attached small pots of 
 roses, pansies and other sentimental plants. 
 
238 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 Thus far I have described the graves of the rich, among whom, 
 on neat slabs of white marble with true simphcity I found two, 
 which particularly interested me. They, like me, had perhaps 
 left kindred and friends behind, and tended by the hands of 
 strangers, had died in a foreign land. The inscriptions are as 
 follows : 
 
 H E 
 
 W n 
 
 Bom in New York, June 21, 1824. 
 Died in Paris, April 2, 1840. 
 
 T n 
 
 Ne a New York, le 14 Aoiit, 1814. 
 Mort k Paris, le 16 Janvier, 1845. 
 
 Around them pots of fresh flowers and garlands showed, that, 
 though far remote from home, they still had friends to watch 
 over their remains. From the slab of the first I took the shell 
 of a snail, which I found thereunto adhering, and shall bear it 
 to the United States, as a memorial of this visit. 
 
 These are the wealthy, and their tombs are the ** perpetual 
 graves," where their bones will remain undisturbed forever. Those, 
 who are not sufficiently rich to buy this right, are deposited in a 
 quarter assigned them for the space of five years, when, being en- 
 tirely decomposed, they are disinterred to make room for others. 
 The third sort to be provided for, are the poor, who are allowed 
 the charity, shall I say luxury, of a grave for five years also. 
 This class, however, have not a portion of land allotted them. A 
 large trench is dug some four feet deep. I witnessed several fu- 
 nerals of this kind. The bodies, (those which I saw, were in- 
 fants) were borne, enclosed in a coffin of unpainted boards, and 
 wrapped in black, upon the shoulders of a sexton ; behind whom 
 followed the mourners. As he let the coffin down from his shoul- 
 ders to the ground, the body slid from one end to the other with 
 a most unpleasant sound. The black cloth was rudely pulled 
 away, and the coffin slipped down to the man below, who placed 
 it in juxtaposition with those already there. The mould of pre- 
 
BURIAL OF THE POOR. 239 
 
 ceding generations was then scattered two or three inches thick 
 upon the top, barely hiding it from sight. The uncovered side 
 was immediately concealed from view by the next comer. Hav- 
 ing filled up some distance, the dust was heaped upon them, the 
 wooden cross painted black, having an inscription, was then fixed 
 as near as could be computed, to the spot, where the body to 
 which it belonged was laid, the wreaths put upon it, and all was 
 finished. 
 
 For five years the mourner can come to the sacred place, which 
 contains the ashes of her departed relative, and bewail her loss. 
 Beyond this time, affection cannot find the spot, where the son 
 or daughter, all that is dear in life, is placed. The poor mother 
 cannot hope to lie after death by the side of her child. No in- 
 scription can perpetuate the memory of either. '' Hicet ubique,'* 
 is written all over the ground, and obliterates all others. Death 
 does not make all men equal. All men are not born, neither do 
 they die, equal. A life of suffering, toil and privation is not 
 enough. When death comes at a hospital the poor patient, 
 destitute of friends sufficiently rich to bear the expense of a 
 burial, looks foward in his last moments to no other grave, but 
 the dissecting room ; at best, he cannot expect a rest of more 
 than a few years in Christian ground. Is he the only, or greatest 
 monster, who cuts the rich man's throat to save himself, by 
 wealth thus acquired, from abandonment to so cruel a fate? 
 Such thoughts chill the blood, and gladly have I arrived near the 
 end of my sheet, so that I may be relieved for a while from re- 
 flection on the misfortunes of the poor. God grant, in his great 
 mercy, that a similar condition of things may never obtain in our 
 own country ; and yet, from some things I have heard, I fear, that 
 the public grounds in New- York are not much better conducted. 
 In Boston even, philanthropic, moral Boston, the dead man can- 
 not rest in peace. Yet she too has her wealthy citizens, who 
 have the courage, as they possess the money, to build in their 
 lifetimes their own sepulchral monuments of ItaUan marble, or 
 some other costly material, or else have in their wills more mod- 
 estly directed their executors to do it for them. And while these 
 palaces for skeletons are being erected, not only are those, whom 
 
240 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 misfortune sends to the city poor house, buried without a prayer, 
 but they are placed in tombs, where they remain in quiet for a year 
 at most. Every spring this is opened, the coffin rudely knocked to 
 pieces, and burnt with the linen winding sheet, when they are 
 so fortunate as to get any, which is rarely the case, and the 
 the bodies tossed together into a trench, and covered up. Boston 
 has now a mayor, whose human sympathies the weight of riches 
 has not crushed. Let him look to this. If economy is the order 
 of the day, and a piece of beach land, or hill of sand, is too ex- 
 pensive, let the patients be deprived of a meal a week, and a fund 
 of thirty pieces of silver will soon accumulate to buy a Potters- 
 field, where the dead poor may no longer be disturbed in their 
 last, and, in some cases, their first repose. In this respect, in 
 the boasted land of liberty, let all be equal 
 
 Many have endeavored to institute a comparison between Pere 
 la Chaise and Mount Auburn, the beautiful cemetery in the vicin- 
 ity of Boston, Mass. Scarcely anj^thing can be more absurd. 
 If one should essay to compare St. Peter's church at Rome with 
 the Falls of Niagara, all would cry out at the obvious incon- 
 gruity. Yet a similar parallel is attempted to be drawn in the 
 former case. The beauties and o-randeurs of art and nature can 
 
 o 
 
 very seldom be brought into competition. It is easy, however, 
 to point out the difference between them. In the case before 
 us, one is distinguished by possessing beauty in the whole ; the 
 other in particular parts. The general beauty of Mount Auburn 
 strikes every beholder. Nature has done much, ay all, for her. 
 Her varieties of hill and dale, of foliage, of ponds and rivulets, 
 make her coup d^oeil most exquisite. Pere la Chaise says, I grant 
 you all this advantage, and that you appear charming at a dis- 
 tance ; but the ornaments you wear, though superbly mounted, 
 I confess, and seeming on a casual glance to be rich and costly^ 
 are poor things after all. I do not, myself, make any pretension 
 on the score of ghttering gauds, and simulated gems. Indeed, 
 my general appearance must be allowed to be somewhat unpre- 
 possessing ; but if you will take the trouble to examine me closely, 
 you will find me decked in jewels of great intrinsic value, with 
 cameos of rare workmanship, mosaics, and antiques. 
 
DEATH'S EXPENSES. 241 
 
 The money, that has been lavished on the monuments is enor- 
 mous. Twenty-five miUions of dollars is the estimate of an 
 expense which cannot be accurately ascertained. For this great 
 sum, you would look for something beautiful and sumptuous, and 
 you will find it. This computation will cease to appear extrava- 
 gant, when it is remembered, that many of the monuments are 
 works of the first sculptors of the country. 
 14* 
 
XXXVII. 
 
 Royal Institution of the Deaf and Dumb — Abbe de L'Epee — Si- 
 card — Royal Institution for the Blind — Artesian Well at Gre- 
 nelle — Comparison of the Royal Institution for the Blind, and 
 THE Asylum for the Blind, at South Boston — Thomas Handasyd 
 Perkins. 
 
 No matter what a man's taste or character may be, he can be 
 gratified in Paris with admirable ease. Aspirations of the high- 
 est order, and propensities of the lowest, meet alike with their 
 appropriate aliment. All sorts of desires may be removed with 
 a promptness that will suit the temper of the impatient, and an 
 elegance, surpassing the conceptions of the fastidious. The most 
 perfect articles, of every description, are constantly w^ithin the 
 reach of one's hand, provided always that there is plenty of 
 money in it ; for the wants of a voluptuous city have caused the 
 globe to be ransacked for the choicest productions of every coun- 
 try ; the most recherche gems of nature and art are poured 
 into her lap with luxurious profusion. Napoleon brought from 
 his conquered cities the nn^ost celebrated works of the best mas- 
 ters, and made the Louvre a depot of chef-(V<xuv.res. While the 
 senses are thus catered for to an extent and perfection unknown 
 elsewhere, while the man of science and art, the lover of painting 
 and poetry, sculpture and statuary, the gourmand and sensualist, 
 realize all which their hearts can possibly desire, whether lofty or 
 low ; the votary of religion, the man of large heart, and expan- 
 sive affections, of high and correct feelings also, finds the institu- 
 tions of religion and charity, that kindle his ardent sympathies, and 
 fill his soul with benevolent transport. None among them pos- 
 sess more interest for a philantliropist, than they which have 
 for their object the care and education of those poor unfortunates, 
 
 242 
 
INSTITUTION FOR THE DEAF AND DUMB. 243 
 
 who have been deprived of any of the senses, so indispensable to 
 the performance of the duties and labors of life, and, without 
 which, man is in danger of forfeiting his rank, as lord of this 
 lower world. 
 
 The Royal Institution for the Deaf and Dumb is one of the 
 noble triumphs of modern times, and the Christian spirit, over a 
 portion of the numerous ills " that flesh is heir to." I returned 
 from a visit to it with great satisfaction, and augmented respect 
 for my fellow-man. It is not in human power to impart the 
 " gift of tongues," or the means of hearing the harmonious 
 voices of creation, to those who have been denied the appro- 
 priate organs ; but, as the water is made to run from the brazen 
 hands of the giant of the fountains at Versailles, so words of 
 happiness and comfort, peace and love, as well as the language 
 of poetry and wit, brilliant and sparkling as their spray in the 
 sun's rays, can be taught to flow from the fingers of the dumb. 
 The tympanum of the closed ear may refuse to respond to sound ; 
 — no matter — the same blessed art conducts the bright electric 
 current of thought along the opaque nerves to illuminate the 
 darkness of the imprisoned intellect, and cause the heart to vi- 
 brate with the sharp alternations of grief and joy. Through 
 these portals, thus opened, a communication is established be- 
 tween them and the outer world, and no longer, as in the case 
 of the immortal bard of Paradise — 
 
 " Is wisdom at one entrance quite shut out." 
 This institution is one of the earliest, if not the very first of its 
 kind, that ever existed. It originated in the capacious heart of 
 the Abbe de L'Epee, a man without note, or wealth, or patron- 
 age. Like John Kryle, whose name is in danger of being eclipsed 
 and forgotten, by the immortal splendors of the great poet's 
 " Man of Ross," he did more with his narrow patrimony, than 
 others have accomplished with their millions. 
 *' Oh, say, what sums that generous hand supply ? 
 
 What mines to swell that boundless charity ? 
 
 Of debts and taxes, wife and children clear, 
 
 This man possessed — five hundred pounds a year. 
 
 BUish, grandeur, blush ! proud courts, withdraw your blaze .' 
 
 Ye little stars! hide your diminished rays." 
 
244 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 This was the actual revenue of John Kryle ; it was also very 
 nearly that of this whole-souled Abbe. He was not indeed the 
 inventor of the language of the mutes. That honor belonofs to 
 Pedro de Ponce, a benedictine monk. Even the system, he made 
 use of, was soon superseded by his pupil Sicard. But the glory 
 will always be his, of having given prominence to this particular 
 expression of philanthropy, and, by his singular devotion to it 
 of himself, and all that he possessed, of having caused it to be- 
 come, what it now is, one of the most favored and interesting 
 channels through which good men may pour their love, their 
 intellect, and wealth. From his limited income of about five 
 hundred pounds a year, he reserved one-seventh to himself, the 
 rest he considered the patrimony of the deaf and dumb, to whom 
 he so sacredly applied it, that in the rigorous winter of 1788, 
 when he was in his seventy-fifth year, he denied himself fuel, 
 rather than intrench on the fund he had destined them. His 
 housekeeper seeing this, led into his apartment forty of his pupils, 
 who besought him with tears to preserve himself for their sakes ; 
 but he would afterwards say in playing with his scholars, " I 
 have wronged my children out of a hundred crowns." With 
 these humble means he undertook, at the outset, to maintain forty 
 deaf and dumb pupils, and educate them in reading, writing, 
 grammar, and the reduction of the most metaphysical ideas to. 
 words. From this feeble commencement, generations since have 
 almost literally learnt to speak his praise, and one hundred and 
 fifty scholars, now belonging to the institution, bless his memory. 
 
 In 1*785 this charity, attracting the royal attention, was, by 
 the influence of Marie Antoinette, made a dependence of the 
 government ; whereupon the establishment was transferred to the 
 Convent of Celestines, which had been suppressed. In 1790 the 
 good x\bbe died, and the Abbe Sicard succeeded him, and intro- 
 duced an improved system of instruction. During the Revolu- 
 tion the Institution was removed to its present situation in the 
 Rue St. Jacques. At present it contains one hundred and six 
 male, and forty-eight female pupils ; the number of gratuitous 
 scholars is limited to eighty. The only requisites for reception 
 into this class are satisfactory evidence of inability to pay for 
 
INSTITUTION FOR THE BLIND. 245 
 
 education, and certificates of age, baptism, vaccination, and the 
 fact of being really deaf and dumb. None are admitted, but 
 those between the ages of ten and fifteen. The sexes are sepa- 
 rated, and all are taught during the prescribed period of six 
 years, reading, writing, arithmetic, drawing, engraving, or some 
 other art. Boarders pay nine hundred francs, or one hundred 
 and eighty dollars nearly, a year. 
 
 The entire institution wears a most comfortable aspect. The 
 buildings, if not new, are fresh in their appearance, and scrupu- 
 lously neat. The chapel, a small, plain room, was the first apart- 
 ment into which I was conducted. Behind the altar is a fine 
 painting by Garnier, of Christ causing **the blind to see, the 
 deaf to hear, and the dumb to speak." It is in reality a speak- 
 ing picture. In this room was a painting, apparently placed 
 there temporarily, representing the death of the Abbe L'Epee, 
 surrounded by his unfortunate pupils. In the same edifice are 
 a great many work-shops of various kinds, school-rooms, and 
 other conveniences. In an upper story are the beds of the 
 children, arranged around a large hall, neat, clean and comfort- 
 able. At the side is the wash-room, encircled by a kind of 
 sink, with several cocks for drawing water. Each pupil has his 
 towel hanging upon a nail, his glass and other accommodations, 
 each his station at this species of wash-stand. This arrangement 
 is vastly superior to that generally seen in the large boarding- 
 schools. 
 
 In the first story are the dining-rooms. Long tables run the 
 length of the room with benches on each side. The tables are 
 formed of slabs of magnificent colored marble, supported on iron 
 frames. Underneath a shelf, divided into partitions, contains 
 the napkin and other furniture of each pupil. At the time of 
 my visit, the children were at their sports ; the girls in the beau- 
 tiful garden in the rear, and the boys in various ways amusing 
 themselves in the spacious court-yard. . 
 
 Almost simultaneously with the foundation of the estabhsh- 
 ment for the deaf and dumb, the Institution Royale des Aveugles 
 was erected. Seventeen himdred and ninety-one is the date of 
 its origin through the benevolent exertions of M. Hauy, who ob- 
 
246 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 tained the royal approbation of Louis XVI. In 1843 the estab- 
 hshment was removed, from its former confined quarters, to the 
 present convenient and splendid edifice, erected for its use. Over 
 the grand entrance is a bas-relief, representing on one side Valentin 
 Hauy, the first instructor, teaching his pupils ; and on the other, 
 a woman giving lessons to girls^ — Religion, in the centre, encour- 
 ages both. The building is divided so as to accommodate the 
 two sexes, and watered from the Artesian Well, heated by pipes, 
 containing hot water, and lighted with a mixture of water, and a 
 liquid extracted from. wood. I trust that no one will suppose 
 the water from the Artesian Well to be sufficiently hot to warm 
 the house. The heat, even at the well itself, will always admit 
 the contact of the hand to the metallic conductor. I make this 
 explanation, because I saw a communication in a Boston print, 
 proposing to water that city by a similar well, which, besides 
 other objects of importance, was expected to furnish hot-baths, 
 — a paper, which is calculated to mislead the public. 
 
 The well at Grenelle is seventeen himdred feet in depth, and was 
 constructed, at immense cost, by constant labor, for seven years 
 and two months. A proposition has been made to dig another 
 in the Jardin des Plantes, three thousand feet deep. At this vast 
 depth the water is computed to be warm enough for warm-baths, 
 and for heating the wards of the hospitals in the neighborhood, 
 being at from ninety-seven degrees to a hundred and four degrees 
 Fahrenheit. The Bostonians will not be so foolish as to go to the 
 immense expense of procuring water of a doubtful character, 
 and of a temperature not sufficiently high for Ao^baths, or even 
 for warming the wards of the only hospital in the city proper, 
 in that cold climate, while Spot or Long ponds are so near and 
 so commodious. The quantity of water thus produced is worthy 
 of attention. The orifice of the well is twenty-one and a half 
 inches nearly, and seven inches nearly at the bottom, and yields, 
 at the mouth, six hundred and sixty gallons per minute ; at an 
 elevation of one hundred and twelve feet — a height sufficient to 
 carry the water into the highest story of the loftiest house in the 
 city, the quantity is three hundred and sixteen gallons — scarcely 
 sufficient for Boston, as it will be. 
 
PROFICIENCY OF THE BLIiND. 247 
 
 To return to the Blind Asylum, from which we have strayed, 
 not from a want of eyes, but from turning them upon the future. 
 The gardens, attached to the asylum, are very prettily arranged, 
 so that the lot of the inmates seems still more unfortunate, when 
 we reflect that they cannot see and admire them. Arrangements 
 are there made for gymnastic exercises. Eighty boys and forty 
 girls are constantly maintained in this institution at the public 
 expense, whose education is completed in eight years. Boarders 
 of all nations are also admitted into this philanthropic seminary, 
 which is capable of containing three himdred pupils, who must 
 be between the ages of eight and fifteen, and are required to 
 produce certificates of birth, parents, good conduct and indi- 
 gence, and their own freedom from idiocy and contagious dis- 
 eases. M. Dufau is the director. 
 
 The dining, sleeping, and wash-rooms are similar to those in 
 the institution for the Deaf and Dumb. One room is filled 
 with seats, placed at regular intervals, and numbering in all per- 
 haps thirty, and before each is put a tub, capable of containing 
 two gallons, or more, pierced with a hole in the bottom. My 
 curiosity was excited by this arrangement, and I was informed 
 that the whole apparatus was designed to secure a regular and 
 thorough washing of the feet. 
 
 It was the last of the month, when I visited the institution ; 
 it was then opened to the public, as usual, and I made the tour 
 of the building, finding, however, but little diflference between it 
 and the admirable one at South Boston, Mass., under the excel- 
 lent care of Dr. Howe. I inquired of some of the pupils, if they 
 knew the Doctor, who has recently visited the European institu- 
 tions. They replied, that they had not seen, but had heard of 
 him. There are numerous school-rooms and work-shops ; in the 
 former of which are taught reading, writing, arithmetic, geo- 
 graphy, (fee. The advancement was not near so great as at South 
 Boston. One said that he studied geometry, which is the highest 
 branch. When I mentioned my friend Mr. Joseph Smith, and 
 told them that he was in college with me, that he knew Latin, 
 Greek, French, Geometry, Trigonometry, and was also a Bachelier 
 ts Lett res, they were absolutely astonished. They never had 
 
248 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 heard of a blind person so well instructed, and made many in- 
 terroofatories in reo^ard to it. 
 
 The readinsf is the same as in the United States. The writino; 
 I thought different, but am not confident. Their letters are made 
 by means of a tin frgme, pierced with holes at regular distances, 
 and in these they write ; but not, as I think, at South Boston, by 
 forming them in a shape, similar to the common ones in general 
 use. Here they are made by mere pricks in the paper, the order 
 and number of which constitue the letters. In this manner the 
 writing is unintelligible to one not initiated in tliis species of hiero- 
 glyphics. I was told, that few of the pupils could write, so that 
 the world could read, although they occasionally attempted to 
 correspond thus with their friends. A good idea of geography 
 was obtained by means of raised maps, and of arithmetic, by 
 moveable figures in a frame. 
 
 The workshops afford employment for those who are educated, 
 and teach the ignorant a method of gaining a livelihood. The 
 younger scholars were employed in making a species of shoe 
 from strips of the list of woolen cloth, wicker baskets of various 
 sizes and shapes, carpeting of coarse straw, straw hats, and in 
 seating chairs with the same material. Others were occupied in 
 printing, and binding books, when made. Some of the more 
 advanced were engaged in cabinet manufacture ; and numerous 
 articles of highly polished mahogany and oak attested their 
 proficiency in this art. In another department are turning 
 lathes, with which they formed boxes, cups, and vases, of wood 
 and ivory, of great beauty. It was astonishing to see with what 
 ability they use these sharp instruments, guiding them with per- 
 fect precision to the desired portion of the swift-revolving block 
 before them, which, rough and shapeless at first, soon came forth 
 smooth and graceful, as the marble from the sculptor's hands, 
 
 Hair brushes, mats, and rugs, worked in various colors, silk 
 scarfs, and other similar articles, were displayed, as specimens 
 of the skill of the female portion, who, though chattering and 
 laughing, did not neglect all the while to keep their fingers also 
 busy upon the work before them. 
 
 The most interesting portion of the exercises was a Concert, 
 
BLIND MUSICIANS. 249 
 
 which was given in the early part of the afternoon. It com- 
 menced with a fragment of a symphony of Haydn, played by an 
 orchestra of twenty-five instruments, directed by M. Gauthier. 
 The most wonderful part of the performance was the exact time 
 and precision, in which it was played. The leader, blind himself 
 as the others, has lately published a treatise on the varieties of 
 music, which is dedicated to CarafFa, and is said to have some 
 merit. He certainly had drilled his pupils exceedingly well. 
 There were solos for the flute and clarinet. A young girl sang 
 several songs with good taste and execution. A girl of about 
 eighteen played a fantasia on movements in the Domino Noir of 
 Auber, and the overture of the Marquess of Brinvilliers by CaraiFa 
 finished the performance. 
 
 Any comparison between them and the orchestras that one 
 hears in the various theatres and ball-rooms of this city, is out 
 of the question. No competition with these finished performers, 
 can of course be sustained ; but a parallel may, with perfect 
 propriety, be run between their exhibitions and the concerts 
 given by the same class of persons at the Blind Asylum at South 
 Boston. It is to be expected, however, that the pupils in a city, 
 where the best music in the world is to be daily heard, and the 
 most scientific and skilful masters exist in multitudes ; where the 
 airs which are heard in the streets, sung by the boor and the 
 peasant, (for the French do not whistle,) are gems from the works 
 of the great masters ; and the morceaus from the operas of 
 Lucie de Lammermoor, I Puritani, and a thousand other similar 
 productions, are as common as Lucy Long, and others of that 
 dingy class of songs in the United States, would surpass the 
 Amencan pupils, who are strangers to all these rare ad- 
 vantages. And so we find it, speaking in tlie general. The 
 orchestral pieces would well compare with those, which lace- 
 rate the nice ear at the American theatres. The instruments are 
 always in tune, the time is alwa)'^s correct. The chief deficiency 
 is a deadness, which characterizes the whole. With the same 
 caution that they walk, the blind also play. It seems, as if they 
 had always a fear of going wrong. Our orchestras, on the con- 
 
250 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 trary, take half of Crockett's motto only, go ahead without regard- 
 ing whether they are right or not. 
 
 I have not a particular remembrance of the orchestra at South 
 Boston, as it is some years ago since I visited the school, and do 
 not even remember whether they h^ve any. In the solo performan- 
 ces one can institute a parallel, at least, as far as the piano goes. 
 Those on the flute and clarinet, the former an air from Berbiguer, 
 with variations, were tolerably played. The fantasia on the 
 piano, was, as I understood, by the best player of the school, 
 and was a piece exhibiting some powers of execution. This I 
 found to be much inferior to several of the piano-players at 
 South Boston, especially Mr. J. Smith. Mistakes in striking 
 wrong notes, loss of time, and the imperfect manner in which the 
 runs were made, formed a striking contrast with the compara- 
 tively perfect style, in which the former has played to me much 
 more difficult pieces. The organ playing in another room was 
 not worth the comparison with that of Harvard University. In 
 the songs, and a trio by three of the girls, they undoubtedly 
 bore away the palm. The native taste of the country conspires 
 against us. Two songs were exceedingly well done, and met 
 with universal approbation. The young men were extravagantly 
 delighted, especially Mons. Le Premier Violin, whose pleasure 
 oozed out to the surface in the most expressive contortions of face 
 and body. 
 
 From this hasty, but correct, account of this noble charity, 
 one cannot fail to have a very high opinion of the management 
 of a similar one at home, A rivalry with the old institutions of 
 Europe, sustained and encouraged, as they are, by the patronage 
 of government, and the influence of general local circumstances, 
 is a great thing of itself. But when we are seen to come out of 
 so severe an ordeal with honor, if not with laurels, we have a 
 right to look with complacency on our plain republican establish- 
 ments, and feel some pride in being compatriots with those gen- 
 erous men, who devote their wealth to the prevention and relief 
 of human suflfering. It may be, though I cannot think it, that 
 no basso-rehevos will perpetuate the hneaments of the benevo- 
 
AMERICAN PHILANTHROPY. 251 
 
 lent individual, who gave a princely asylum to the unfortunate 
 of his race, and that no rich-framed picture will preserve for the 
 contemplation of posterity the celestial serenity of the closing 
 scene, in 
 
 " The chamber, where the good man meets his fate :" 
 
 yet thousands of poor blind children, whose mental eyes have 
 been opened by his bounty, will for ages to come, read the en- 
 graving on their hearts of the name of Thomas Handasyd 
 Perkins. 
 
 Who says the wealthy are not to be envied ? Such glorious 
 examples of the proper use of the gifts of heaven, create every 
 day a greater " lust for riches." To be the " Almoners of God'* 
 is the delightful prerogative of the opulent, and all must long for 
 such a lot. Boston can proudly point to her Tuckerman and 
 Channing, her Parker and Lawrences, with a score beside, who 
 are creating for their beloved city, that sitteth on her triple hill, 
 a name, monumentum cere perennius, which shall outlive her 
 sumptuous palaces, and the granite shaft on Bunker Hill. My 
 sheet is nearly finished ; were it twice as large, I could fill it 
 with recollections of the deeds of her citizens, not only on the 
 battle-field, but in the widow's cottage, and the garret of the sick 
 laborer, often performed with such secresy, that the beneficiaries, 
 ignorant who their earthly benefactors are, can only pay their 
 gratitude to the invisible Parent of all good, whom in this they 
 resemble. Such being the character of my countrymen, there is 
 no need of kings and princes to build hospitals for us, for they 
 are the indigenous and spontaneous growth of the soil. 
 
XXXVIII. 
 
 Rachel — Her performance in Virginius — Execution by the Guillo- 
 tine — Jardin des Plantes — Governor of Coney Island — Military 
 Music — The King — Count de Paris. 
 
 The great tragic actress was a short time ago, wlien I saw her, 
 the only performer of any eminence on the French stage. The 
 close of her engagement was fast approaching, and it was neces- 
 sary to go immediately, in order to witness a display of her great 
 powers, before her departure for the provinces. With difficulty 
 I obtained a ticket, four days previous to her appearance in the 
 new tragedy of Virginius, written expressly for her, and which 
 has created a furor, which seems unsusceptible of abatement. 
 The fame, which she enjoys, I am convinced, now that I have 
 seen her, is richly deserved, for Mademoiselle Rachel is a woman 
 of no ordinary character. In person she is of medium height, 
 well formed, but slight. Her face, though not homely, is neither 
 a pleasant one, nor marked by any evident traces of uncommon 
 genius. Her eyes are small and black, nose Jewish, mouth small 
 and possessing that disagreeable expression, very often seen in the 
 company of projecting chins. Her teeth, like those of most of the 
 French, are white and regular, hair dark, complexion light, and 
 extremely pallid. This was ascribed by an old gentleman near 
 me to two causes ; a disease of the lungs, under which it is feared 
 she is laboring, and to an imperfect recovery from a late sickness, 
 attendant on childbirth — a frequent accident among young French 
 misses. Nature has not been lavish to her exterior, but she has 
 made up for this parsimony by showering upon her most hberally 
 the choicest gems of intellect. 
 
 The play of Virginius is very well written. The old hackneyed 
 portions of the hteral history are avoided, as much as possible, and 
 
 252 
 
FICTION AND REALITY. 253 
 
 new and natural incidents are with much felicity introduced. In 
 the second act Appius, accused by the sister of the assassination 
 of Icilius, declares it a falsehood The words ^e le crois pronounc- 
 ed by Virginie, is one of the best points in the whole play. This 
 act closes with the interest so highly excited, that I had great 
 fear of its flagging before the consummation. On the contrary, it 
 constantly increased, and I sat half breathing, till exhausted, I 
 gladly saw the fatal stroke, which finished the matter, and gave 
 me an opportunity again to respire without restraint. Refraining 
 from a critical analysis of her acting, I have merely mentioned, 
 how I felt. The piece is of a very superior order, though pos- 
 sessing the ever recurring rhyme, so disagreeable to a foreign ear. 
 I say nothing against this, because I consider the poetry, as well 
 as the particular religious development of a nation, a sacred 
 thing, to be respected by a stranger, who is unable, for obvious 
 reasons, to appreciate the merits of either. Beside the great 
 part of Virginie, those of Virginius, Appius and Fabius, a Ro- 
 man senator, afford scope for the display of consummate genius. 
 From the distress of dramatic fiction, and the emotions caused 
 by the " counterfeit presentment" of the Roman girl, let us turn 
 to the world's actual tragedy, — a spectacle of terrible reality, 
 where the emotions, if calmer, were yet stronger, and where a 
 vastly larger company assembled to witness the awful catastro- 
 phe. It was an expiation made for the violation of the majesty 
 of law, where the retributive death of the guilty closed the af- 
 fecting scene, and the criminal suffered instead of the innocent. 
 Having a great desire to see the far-famed guillotine, I had taken 
 considerable pains to be forewarned of the first occasion, when 
 it was expected "to perform." Great efforts are used to hinder 
 the publicity of an execution, while, at the same time, those who 
 desire to witness it, are not prevented. The criminal, when sen- 
 tenced to death, is left in ignorance of the day of his dreadful 
 doom. The public are also uninformed. His sentence is made 
 known in the gazettes of the day, but he generally suffers three 
 days afterwards. It is said, that neither the jailer, nor hangman, 
 know the precise time, till the previous night, when they suddenly 
 receive orders to erect the scaffold. The prisoner is sometimes 
 15 
 
254 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 reprieved, and this is for one month only, I had engao-ed a 
 workman, who labors near the barrier St. Jaques — an unfrequent- 
 ed part of the city — to send me word, when he observed prepa- 
 rations going on in the square. The guillotine is always erected 
 between eleven and twelve o'clock on the night previous to the 
 execution. 
 
 I was therefore aroused by his messenger at six o'clock a. m. 
 I made such good haste, that I was dressed and on the spot at 
 twenty minutes past six — having arrived there by running all the 
 way, about two miles, I found quite a crowd already assembled, 
 but it being: some time before the fatal hour, I had leisure to in- 
 spect the instrument minutely. On a platform erected four or 
 five feet above the ground, supported by legs and surrounded by 
 a railing, was a frame work rising to the height of between eight 
 and ten feet. Those, who have witnessed the operation of a spile- 
 driver, will conceive a very good idea of its action and appear- 
 ance. The whole was painted red. The cutting instrument re- 
 sembled a yankee hay-cutter, except that it was much larger. 
 One corner, being placed lower down than the other, facilitated 
 its operation. The axe, or knife, was fixed into a heavy block of 
 metal, and drawn up nearly to the top of the frame. There it 
 remained dull and sullen, like revenge awaiting its opportunity. 
 Two companies of mounted municipal guards, and one of foot, 
 with some twenty Sergents de ville kept the square open till eight 
 o'clock, the fixed hour. In the meantime the crowd augmented, 
 and the women began to be quite numerous. One old woman 
 was peddling a biography of the victim, and another endeavoring 
 to let her stands and chairs, both screaming their merchandize at 
 the top of their voices. 
 
 At eight o'clock precisely came the guard of cavalry at a fast 
 trot, surrounding the covered cart, which contained the prisoner 
 and a priest. The vehicle was backed up to the scaffold, the 
 door behind was opened, the priest descended, and after him the 
 criminal. The latter mounted the scaffold, accompanied by two 
 officers, with a firm step. He was clothed in his usual dress, a 
 blouse of blue cloth, but without a hat. The hair was cut short, 
 that it might form no impediment to his speedy exit from the 
 
EXECUTION BY THE GUILLOTINE. 255 
 
 world. The officers quickly drew the blouse over his head, and 
 he stood exposed with naked shoulders. He then began to 
 scream with the intention of making himself heard by the crowd, 
 as I thought, but like many unaccustomed orators, ignorant how 
 to use his voice. It might have been an ebullition of either 
 anger or fear. In France the liberty of speech is not permitted, 
 and he was interrupted by the officers, bending his neck, and 
 placing his head in the groove, destined to receive it. The collar, 
 which was intended to check the least movement, was adjusted, 
 and like the weight in the spile-driver on our wharves, the axe 
 was drawn up to the top by the officers. It was instantly disen- 
 gaged, and dropped ; the head, dissevered completely, fell into a 
 basket, and this officer's duty being finished, he descended. Two 
 minutes did not elapse from the time he arrived, till his head was 
 detached from his body. Without the smallest loss of time it 
 was tumbled into a vehicle, similar to a hay-cart, his body tipped 
 in after it, a small guard escorted it beyond the barrier, and in 
 five minutes from the entrance of the prisoner he was borne away, 
 and the place left nearly vacant. The body was conveyed away 
 for interment without the city for some hour or two, to be dug 
 up again, and carried to the dissecting room for anatomical pur- 
 poses. 
 
 There are many methods of leaving the world, but I cannot 
 imagine one, which could be less painful and more agreeable, 
 than this — if any method of dying may be styled so ; — with the 
 single, but rather unpleasant exception of the scaffi>ld, none cer- 
 tainly could be more expeditious. How much superior to hang- 
 ing, where the criminal struggles long and hard often from the 
 ignorance or carelessness of the hangman ! From the guillotine, 
 no pain can possibly be experienced. 
 
 Amateurs can see the operation of this celebrated instrument 
 on a dog for twenty francs, on giving notice of their desire to 
 the officer a week in advance. Jack Ketches of other countries 
 have free admittance. 
 
 In regard to the victim on this occasion, he most richly merited 
 his doom. It is true, as you will surmise, he was sentenced for 
 an attempt to murder. The French law is in this respect much 
 
256 OLIt.WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 better than our own, which does not hang, unless the homicide 
 is actually committed. In this case, I think it best *' to take the 
 will for the deed.*' The deceased was a species of pedlar, and 
 bad a boutique ambulant. He had several times attempted his 
 wife's life, by hanging cords with nooses attached in blind pas- 
 sages, and for many months daily threatened her with deaths 
 beating her cruelly when alone, and kicking her legs under the 
 table, when any one was present. He frequently boasted of 
 having killed a mistress some time previously. In short, his 
 whole history, which I read upon the spot, so much incensed me 
 against him, that, when I saw his wicked looking countenance, I 
 forgot that a man was to be executed, and remembered only the 
 horrid cruelty of the miscreant. I saw him beating the head of 
 his defenceless wife with a hammer. I saw her skull fractured 
 in two or three places. I saw her delirious at the Hotel Dieu. — 
 I fancied her restored to health, to be sure, but with a debilitated 
 constitution and an imperfect mind, and I looked forward impa- 
 tiently for the time, when he should receive his just recompense. 
 When his head and body were carelessly tumbled into a common 
 cart, I thought not of the deed of horror, of which I had just 
 been a spectator, and was scarcely conscious for several hours-, 
 that human life had been deliberately taken ; even then, if I must 
 confess it, without evidencing that tenderness of heart, and deli- 
 cacy of sensibility, so beautiful, it is said, in a young man. 
 
 An individual, it is agreed, by all people of sense, may take 
 life in necessary self-defence. What may be thus done by one 
 may be done by another, and so society becomes invested wit!> 
 the same high prerogative, as a dernier resource. I do not ac- 
 knowledge myself under any obligation to incur the trouble, ex- 
 pense and risk, of chaining a wild beast of a man, to keep him 
 from preying on his fellow-men. The virtuous portion of tlie 
 community is not bound, and sometimes is not able, to waste the 
 fruits of its hard and honest labor, in building penitentiaries, in 
 which the worthless, ay, and still dangerous existence of a demon, 
 may be carefully prolonged, and his body clothed and fed — often 
 much better than the poor, who are taxed to pay for it — till the 
 culprit shall be pardoned by an impotent or corrupt executive, to 
 
AMERICAN SrECIMEN. 
 
 vex the country again with his murders and conflagrations ; or till 
 a natural death shall do for the people, what they had not the 
 firmness to do for themselves — rid them of an enormous and 
 perilous burden, not imposed by any dictate of natural law. 
 
 I have been to-day for the twentieth time, to the Garden of 
 Plants. I beg you will not think I intend to give a dry bio- 
 graphical sketch of every monkey, and bear and lion, that are to be 
 seen there, to tell you how much the big elephant weighs, or 
 how high is the cameleopard. No. The live specimens of almost 
 every animal in the world, birds of every clime, and plants and 
 shrubs of every temperature, I had often seen, but, to-day, I 
 went into the cabinets. There I saw the same animals dead, but 
 much better stuffed, than the living ; fishes swimming in alcohol ; 
 some thousands of birds standing on one leg, and looking very 
 sharpl}^ at one another, with glass eyes ; among them looking 
 equally sharp, a representative of the American Eagle — the 
 " Governor of Coney Island," who says "I am the Governor of 
 Coney Island — probably as well known, as any man in New- York. 
 I've been to Europe fifteen times, Spain five, Russia six, England 
 nine times, and traveled more in France, than any man, that ever 
 lived. Poh ! these things are nothing ; in Rome they are twice 
 as fine ; I have just come from there ; I am a wine merchant, 
 that's why I travel so much. The Bible don't forbid selling wine, 
 I am very temperate myself. Scarcely ever drink myself. The 
 Bible forbids gluttony just as much, as it does wine bibbing ;" and 
 thus he went on without interruption, occasionally deigning to look 
 over his spectacles, especially at some stones of different colors, 
 which had papers attached to them, on which were written great 
 long names with gold and silver after them. Really interesting 
 were those names. Glass cases, with iron railings around, con- 
 taining bits of paper with "Diamonds," "Topaz," "Emeralds," 
 written on them, all in large letters, and by them httle bits of 
 glass of different colors. — I had written so far, when I received 
 your letter, saying, that you "trusted, that I would give some 
 description of the Garden of Plants." I read this deliberately 
 over, and concluded, that, what is just said, would scarcely an- 
 swer after such a requisition from another hemisphere. In a 
 15* 
 
258 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 future letter, therefore, I must endeavor to give a more pre- 
 cise account. Rely upon having the statistics of the length of 
 every monkey's tail, <fec. <fec. 
 
 Military music, though of an ordinary quality, as it generally is 
 in America, still almost always inspires a degree of enthusiasm, 
 even in hearts not particularly liable to melt. I think by this 
 time you must have begun to suspect me of not a little fondness 
 for " the heavenly maid." So far from denying the charge, I 
 proceed to confess a most dehghtful flirtation on a late occasion. 
 It happened thus. The National Guard, and the troops of the 
 line, went to the chateau of the Tuilleries to salute the kins: on 
 his birth-day. The clergy had finished their errand, and the de- 
 putation marched out. The great court was then filled with 
 all the drummers in Paris, who, together, some five hundred, 
 made a tremendous tapage for some time. When they had finish- 
 ed, the band of each regiment marched up, one at a time, and 
 played a piece of music of some minutes in length. This concert 
 lasted nearly two hours, the king, queen, count de Paris, and 
 others of the royal family, being all the time at the open win- 
 dows, hstening. The king wore the uniform of the National 
 Guard. Each of the above mentioned bands consists of about 
 thirty performers, and the music is very excellent. It is not won- 
 derful that his majesty was seen to applaud. Such mihtary music 
 is not to be heard in every city of Europe. At sunset the cannon 
 at the Hotel des Invalides fired a royal salute for the monarch. 
 The little applause which he received from the crowd was heart- 
 sickening. I believe I felt more loyalty myself, than most of the 
 persons there. The httle count de Paris was more favorably re- 
 garded, and quite a perceptible murmur ran among the multitude 
 on his appearance. Indeed, he did look very pretty wi'h his 
 little white glazed cap, velvet spencer, and white panta I was 
 standing near the entrance when he arrived. It is a curious 
 sight for a republican to notice the parade made for a little child, 
 whose name is a great deal longer than his body. First came a 
 domestic in red and gold livery on horseback to announce his 
 approach, and prepare the route. A carriage, drawn by four 
 horses, and guided by two postilions in a livery of blue and 
 
ANECDOTES CURIEUSES. 259 
 
 silver, followed. Behind the carriage were two lackeys also in 
 blue. After these came another servant in blue, too, whose duty 
 it would, perhaps, be difficult to tell. The trumpets sounded, 
 the guard saluted, the crowd made way, the carriage stopped at 
 the door, the domestic opened it, and " parvus lulus" and his 
 mother, alighted ; — " Parturiunt montes, nascitur," — but my new- 
 born loyalty blotted out the rest. 
 
 Note. — From the guillotine no pain can he experienced. The 
 Boston Daily Journal, on publishing a considerable extract from 
 this letter, soon after it appeared in the Newark Daily, discours- 
 ed in the following pleasant way : — 
 
 " Doctors differ — and in no case more widely than in this. 
 While some learned physiologists are of opinion, that death by 
 beheading is attended with less actual pain than any other man- 
 ner of death, and is, therefore, the most humane mode of disem- 
 barrassing society of a villain ; others contend, and adduce an 
 equally formidable array of facts, to show that intense agony is 
 experienced, after decollation, in both the head and the body ; 
 and death by the guillotine, so far from being easier than hang- 
 ing, is one of the most painful known! No one has yet been able 
 to describe the peculiar sensations, which attend the separation of 
 the head from the body ; but many curious facts have been col- 
 lected, which may serve to throw some little, and but a little, 
 light on the subject, 
 
 " It is related, that a professor of Physiology, at Genoa, who 
 has made this interesting subject his particular study, states that 
 * having exposed two heads, a quarter of an hour after decolla- 
 tion, to a strong light, the eyelids closed suddenly. The tongue, 
 which protruded from the lips, being pricked with a needle, was 
 drawn back into the mouth, and the countenance expressed sud- 
 den pain.* The head of a criminal, named Tillier, being submit- 
 ted to examination after the guillotine, the eyes turned in every 
 direction, from whence he was called by name. 
 
 ** Fontenelle declares, that he has frequently seen the heads of 
 guillotined persons move their lips, as if they were uttering re- 
 
260 
 
 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 monstrances against their cruel treatment. If this be so, there is 
 nothing very incredible in the report, sometimes treated as fabu- 
 lous, that when the executioner gave a blow on the face to 
 Charlotte Corday, after the head was severed from the body, the 
 countenance expressed violent indignation I 
 
 " In addition to the above facts — it may not be improper to 
 add, that we have seen it stated, and it may he true, although* 
 we must confess, we have not hitherto altogether credited it, that 
 some galvanic experiments were once tried on the body of an 
 habitual snuff-taker, after he had undergone the operation of be- 
 ins: o:uillotined. On receivins: the first shock, the headless trunk 
 joined its thumb and fore-finger, and deliberately raised its right 
 arm, as if in the act of taking its customary pinch — and seemed 
 mush astonished and perplexed at finding no nose to receive its 
 wonted tribute ! 
 
 " But the most marvelous tale is told of Sir Kenelm Digby, 
 who was beheaded for hiixh treason, in 1606. After the head 
 was struck off, the executioner proceeded, according to the bar- 
 barous usages of the day, to pluck the heart from his body, and, 
 when he had done so, he held it up in full view of the numerous 
 assemblages of people, who had gathered round the scaffold to 
 witness the exhibition — and shouted with a loud voice, This is the 
 heart of a traitor ! Upon which the head, which was quietly 
 resting on the scaffold, at the distance of a few feet, showed sundry 
 signs of indignation, and, opening its mouth, audibly exclaimed, 
 ' That is a lief 
 
 "These anecdotes, however, do not prove that there is any 
 thing very painful in undergoing the operation of beheading ; and, 
 if they can be credited, they show that the pain is not so intense 
 as to affect the reasoning faculties. And fortunately for criminals 
 condemned to decapitation, although unfortunately for some of 
 the theorists, a case occurred some years ago, in Ticonderoga, 
 N. Y., which settles the question, as far as the body is concerned, 
 and proves that no sensations whatever can exist in the body, 
 after its connection with the brain is dissolved. The case is a 
 curious one, and we give it as related in the Boston Medical and 
 Surgical Journal at the time : 
 
DISLOCATION OF THE CERVIX. 261 
 
 ** *E. D., aged fifty, a man of hale constitution and robust, in 
 making an effort to scale a board fence, was suddenly precipitated 
 backwards to the ground ; striking first upon the superior and 
 anterior portion of the head, which luxated the dentatus anter- 
 iorly on the third cervical vertebra. He was at length discover- 
 ed, and taken in (as the patient said) after he had lain nearly an 
 hour, in a condition perfectly bereft of voluntary motion ; but, 
 being present, I did not even suspect, that the power of sensa- 
 tion was also gone, until the patient (whose speech remained 
 almost, or quite, perfect, and who was uncommonly loquacious 
 at that time) said, did he not know to the contrary, he should 
 think that he had no body. His flesh was then punctured, and 
 sometimes deeply, even from the feet to the neck ; but the patient 
 gave no evidence of feeling, and, when interrogated, answered, that 
 he felt nothing ; "and," added he, ** I never was more perfect- 
 ly free from pain in my life ;" but he remarked that he could not 
 live, and accordingly sent for his family, twelve miles distant, 
 and arranged all his various concerns in a perfectly sane manner. 
 
 " ' The head was thrown back in such a position as to forbid his 
 seeing his body. The pulse was much more sluggish, than 
 natural. Respiration and speech but slightly afi*ected, were 
 gradually failing ; but he could articulate distinctly, until within 
 a few minutes of his death. All the senses of the head remain- 
 ed quite perfect to the last. He died forty-eight hours after the 
 fall. 
 
 " ' Repeated attempts were made to reduce the dislocation, but 
 the transverse processes had become so interlocked, that every 
 effort proved abortive. There was undoubtedly in this case, a 
 peifect compression of the spinal marrow, which prevented the 
 egress of nervous influence from the brain, while the pneumogas- 
 tric nerve remained unembarrassed. _' " 
 
 To this article, a correspondent of the Newark Daily replied 
 in this strain. 
 
 " In quoting from the Paris letter the account of an execution 
 by the guillotine, the Boston Journal appends a number of striking 
 cases, not so much indeed to prove that pain accompanies the 
 mode of execution mentioned, as to convey an impression, that 
 
262 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 sensation, and even intelligenee, have, in several instances, sur- 
 vived the separation of the head from the body. They are all 
 very much in point, as the lawyers say, but that of Sir Kenelm 
 (Sir Everard ?) Digby, who was beheaded in 1606 for being con- 
 cerned in the famous, or rather infamous. Gunpowder Plot, is 
 very remarkable, and I take leave to transcribe it. * After the 
 head was struck off, the executioner proceeded, according to the 
 barbarous usages of the day, to pluck the heart from his body, 
 and, when he had done so, he held it up in full view of the 
 numerous assemblage of people, who had gathered around the 
 scaffold to witness the exhibition — and shouted with a loud voice, 
 this is the heart of a traitor ! Upon which, the head, which was 
 quietly resting on a scaffold at a dit;tance of a few feet, showed 
 sundry signs of indignation, and, opening its mouth, audibly ex- 
 claimed, * That is a lie f " 
 
 This piece of history shows conclusively the superiority of this 
 mode of capital punishment, as it leaves the culprit afterwards 
 perfectly free to take care of his posthumous reputation, which 
 would be very convenient in all cases, but, more especially, when 
 a man suffers by judgment of law. No other kind of death, by 
 public execution or otherwise, secures this inestimable privilege. 
 
 But what I had in view in citing the case of Sir Everard, was 
 this, that a great many years ago, alas ! I am afraid to tell how 
 many, I read a portion of history, corroborating in a remarkable 
 manner the anecdote of the Eno-lish kniorht. I do not now allude 
 to that singular people, who are in the habit of carrying their 
 heads under their arms, but to the conjuror in the Arabian Nights, 
 who, in consequence of a failure, I don't recollect what, in some 
 of his necromancy, was decollated by order, and in the very pres- 
 ence of the sultan. The head of the sorcerer, after separation 
 from his body, sat up erect upon the floor, and with a mysterious 
 expression of countenance, informed his highness, that, as he 
 rather thought, he should have no further occasion for his books 
 of magic, he would make a present of them to him ; and, since 
 he could not very well go to fetch them himself, if his highness 
 would take the trouble to send for them, he would instruct him 
 in their use. On being brought he told the sultan, it was first 
 
PLEASURES OF DECAPITATION. 263 
 
 necessary for him to turn over every leaf in the books from the 
 beginning to the end. But he found it was impossible to do this, 
 as they stuck together, without often wetting his fingers at his 
 mouth. This infused into the monarch's veins a subtle and viru- 
 lent venom, as the books were poisoned, in consequence of which 
 he died very soon in torture, overwhelmed with the taunts and 
 curses of the decapitated head. 
 
 In this instance, the loss of a head seems so far from having 
 been attended with pain, that, on the contrary, the insulted mem- 
 ber enjoyed the pleasure of revenge, which it probably never 
 would have done, if it had been suffered to remain upon the 
 magician's shoulders. This is probably the most eligible situa- 
 tion for a head, but as it would appear from the authorities in 
 the Journal, and elsewhere, the next best disposition that can be 
 made of it, is to slice it off skilfully with the guillotine. 
 
XXXIX. 
 
 The Garden of Plants — School of Botany — Menagerie — Men and 
 Monkeys — Beneficial Effects from Alcohol. 
 
 Of all the celebrated wonders, which adorn this capital, none 
 are more worthy of attention and combine more beauty with real 
 utility, than the far-famed Jardin des Plantes. Agreeably to 
 your request, I proceed to give a cursory account of it, for a 
 minute one could only be done with a statistical account of bird 
 and beast. The name would lead one to suppose, that it was 
 merely a large garden, as it indeed imports, remarkable for the 
 taste displayed in the arrangement and great variety of trees, 
 shrubs, and flowers, that adorn it. The botanist, who regards 
 this portion only, will tell you so. The comparative anatomist 
 will however show you its cabinets devoted to his favorite depart- 
 ment, rich in the dry bones of this and past ages ; in skulls and 
 skeletons of all animals, and men of all nations. The geologist 
 will expatiate with rapture on the collections of stones arranged 
 in glass cases under glittering walls, which have not the least in- 
 terest perhaps to you. The little child will point you to the big 
 elephant and the roaring tigers. In short, every taste finds grati- 
 fication here, and it is now my task to present such a camera 
 obscura view, as you can obtain from a distance, with as little 
 dullness as possible. 
 
 Such a collection of various rare and beautiful objects cannot 
 be the work of a day ; in fact, for ages since 1635, the world has 
 been constantly contributing to make these cabinets perfect. In 
 this year, at the solicitation of Herouard and Guy de la Brosse, 
 the physicians of Louis XIII., this monarch founded this garden. 
 In 1Y89 the immortal Buffon was appointed superintendent, who 
 devoted himself with great energy to the advancement of its 
 
 264 
 
JARDIN DES PLANTES. 265 
 
 prosperity, till his death in 1788. The list of others of inferior 
 reputation, but who by their zeal have aided in its advancement, 
 is too long for this communication. The revolutionary spirit, 
 which ravaged almost all the universities and public institutions, 
 for various reasons respected this, and passed it by untouched. 
 It suffered however very much from neglect, and deteriorated 
 from the want of funds. Bonaparte with the same zeal, with 
 which he gave himself to the embellishment of the city in general, 
 and enhancing the beauty of its numerous galleries and public 
 places, strove to repair the faults of the reign of Terror, and by 
 the fi-uits of conquest filled it with most valuable objects. At 
 his fall, some of these were returned, but many being retained, 
 the garden on the whole was much the gainer. The magnificent 
 cabinet of the Stadtholder was claimed, but its equivalent in du- 
 plicates only was returned. Several valuable jewels were re- 
 claimed by the Pope, and books and objects of natural history 
 returned to individuals, who were the original owners. The in- 
 stitution now flourishes with unaccustomed vigor. It is a favorite 
 object of government, and large sums are annually devoted to 
 increasing and beautifying its cabinets, and paying for the sup- 
 port of the numerous professors of various sciences attached to 
 it. Many courses of lectures are delivered between the months 
 of April and October, to which all have free admission. 
 
 The garden ' is situated in the extreme eastern part of the city 
 on the banks of the Seine, separated from the river by the Quai 
 Bernard. It is in close proximity to the immense hospice or alms- 
 house la Salpetri^re spoken of in another letter. Several entran- 
 ces give inlet from different directions to the student, the laborer, 
 the curious, and the lover of pleasure. Its spacious walks are 
 always thronged. Its different portions formed into divisions 
 and appropriated to particular purposes.. On the right is the 
 menagerie ; on the left specimens of noble forest trees. Be- 
 fore are the beds for small plants and the nurseries which contain 
 the different varieties of medicinal, perennial, exotic and indigent' 
 ous plants, shoots and flowers. A portion of this is separated 
 from what is called the school of botany, to which is attached a 
 small green-house. Near this is a green-house of large extent. 
 
see OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 built of cast iron, and warmed by steam. Its high walls are 
 lofty enough to contain the largest tropical plants, of which there 
 is a great variety. Every tree and plant within the conservatoires 
 and in the open air has either the name attached to it, or a num- 
 ber ; so that the curious can easily learn the character of every 
 specimen. Among the most remarkable of the contents of the 
 garden is a cedar of Lebanon, which was presented in 1734 by 
 Collinson, an Englishman. It is now eleven feet in circumference 
 at the base ; also two Sicilian palms, twenty-five feet in height, 
 which were given to Louis XIV. The total number of plants is 
 twelve thousand. 
 
 The menagerie attracts the most attention ; but it has suffered 
 much from the prevalence of cold during the last winter, and 
 many of the animals have died. The first public menagerie was 
 formed at Versailles by Louis XIV. at the instigation of the 
 Academy of Sciences, which increased in value till the revolution, 
 when many of the animals were starved to death. In 1*794 the 
 remnant were removed to thi? place. Since the present reign 
 this portion of the garden has been greatly extended, and con- 
 stant additions are being made. It now forms a most picturesque 
 appearance. The ground is divided by winding walks and light 
 fences into enclosures, in which are the tame animals ; such as 
 various kinds of deer, the American bison, sheep, goats, zebras, 
 camels, &c. These parks are of considerable extent, allowing 
 exercise and pasturage upon the green grass, that carpets them. 
 The animals are generally in pairs ; and at this season their young 
 oflEpring are often gamboling with them. In another place, are 
 specimens of the ostrich from South America and Africa, whose 
 fine plumage resembles more the feathers in the ladies' hats, than 
 those on the meagre birds seen in our traveling menageries. In 
 a still larger enclosure, in the form of a circle, with a pond in the 
 centre, are the tropical and aquatic birds, whose shrill cries re- 
 mind one of the descriptions of Robinson Crusoe. Here are the 
 graceful swans, many varieties of ducks and geese, and the fish- 
 eating birds of the warm latitudes. The empire of this enclosure 
 has many claimants. The vain bird of Paradise spreads out its 
 broad title, whenever he can find any one to pay him attention ; 
 
EMBRYO MAN. 267 
 
 the strutting turkey-cock thinks his pretensions indisputable ; and 
 the valiant little bantam dares any one to doubt his superior 
 claims. In spacious cages separated from the walk by an iron 
 fence, which keeps the multitude from approaching within a 
 distance of four feet, are confined lions, hyenas, leopards, ana- 
 condas of monstrous length, lizards and others. The volerie 
 contains vultures, eagles, buzzards, hawks, in numerous varieties ; 
 singing birds and others of the gay plumage of foreign climes. 
 A crowd is always collected round the large space, in which 
 are kept the monkeys. The whole is covered with a wire roof, 
 which keeps them from escaping ; and in this spacious cage, 
 almost free from restraint, they gambol, running from " pillar to 
 post," now mounting to the summit, and a moment after sliding 
 to the bottom by means of a pendent rope. Thus they sport day 
 after day, screaming and quarreling, without wearying either 
 themselves or the delighted spectators, who stand for hours to- 
 gether under the rays of a broiling sun in this unsheltered place. 
 The embryo man is a decided and universal favorite among the 
 Parisians, who have doubtless been recently more gratified with 
 the reported discovery of a new family of monkeys, than if it had 
 been another planet, or the northwest passage. In a building, 
 denominated from its shape, the Rotunda, are confined a great 
 many kinds of the more bulky animals, among which the lofty 
 giraffe, and the ponderous elephant, are most conspicuous. Both 
 these are extremely tame, and receive liberal donations of bread, 
 with which the visitants are generally well supplied. In the 
 company of the largest elephant are two tapirs, who share with 
 her the muddy pond in the centre of the ground. The king is 
 desirous of adding the American Indians, now on exhibition here 
 by Mr. Catlin, to this collection ; but the price is probably too 
 high. The large Siberian and American bears are in sunken 
 courts with cells, and afford much amusement to the public in 
 climbing the dead tree, placed in the middle, catching the bread 
 thrown to them, and playing with one another. Comprehensive 
 as the menagerie is at present, additional room has been appro- 
 priated for its extension, and it will soon comprise a specimen of 
 almost every rare creature in the world. Sea captains and tra- 
 
268 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 Tellers make frequent contributions ; and it receives ample acces- 
 sions from the gifts of foreign princes, and the munificence of the 
 government. 
 
 In connection with the living animals we must not forget the 
 dead, which are still more numerous, and form a Cabinet of 
 Zoology, the most complete perhaps in the world, reckoning one 
 hundred and fifty thousand specimens. The edifice appropriated 
 to it is simple in its construction, three stories in height, and 
 three hundred and ninety feet in length. At every step I per- 
 ceive memorials of the renowned Baron Cuvier, according to 
 whose system, the splendid contents are arranged. The collec- 
 tion of mammalia, representing five hundred species, is upwards 
 of fifteen hundred in number. This receives constant additions 
 from the death of members of the menagerie, as well as contri- 
 butions from abroad. So perfectly are the animals preserved, 
 that their appearance is equally fine with the live ones in the 
 adjoining yard. The collection of birds, numbering over six 
 thousand, is a sight that gratifies universally. Independently 
 of any scientific \'iew, their rich gaudy colors have a charm, which 
 the most uneducated can appreciate. There they sit, day after 
 day, a row of black, a row of blue, or any other color ; their 
 sleepless glass eyes always open and brilliant ; their limbs never 
 weary, though standing incessantly on one leg by the month 
 together. From the ceiling are suspended turtles of every de- 
 scription, from individuals that weigh seven or eight hundred 
 pounds, to the minutest samples, which squat on planks, float- 
 ing on the sides of any of our muddy ponds. Lizards of every 
 hue ; frogs, professors of the art of natation, and snakes, whose 
 method of progression, more wonderful than the locomotive, 
 puzzled the wise Solomon to discover, are congregated here in 
 infinite variety. Alcohol, which destroys the living man, pre- 
 serves the defunct animals, to which use it is most properly ap- 
 plied. The department of fishes comprises duplicate specimens 
 of twenty-five hundred species. Of the smaller, one is preserved 
 in spirits, and the other dried and varnished. 
 
 Twenty-five thousand specimens compose the cabinet of artic- 
 ulated animals without vertebrae, and very numerous samples 
 
CHAIN OF BEING. 269 
 
 form that of the inarticulated animals. These two classes com- 
 prise all the insects and shells ; among them are the varieties of 
 the nautilus, tridachna, also the corals and sponge. 
 
 The whole collection is in the most perfect condition, enclosed 
 in glass cases, and arranged in systematic order : so that one can 
 distinctly trace the progressive grades in animated nature. Be- 
 ginning with the sponge, the lowest order of animal organization, 
 and proceeding from one specimen to another, link by link, we 
 see the great chain of nature running through the monkey, ba- 
 boon, hottentot, African, Asian, American Indian, and ending in 
 the European, the noblest specimen of man. Does the chain 
 stop there ? On the contrary, must we not believe, with the 
 Bible and Locke, that it traverses the shining order of spiritual 
 beings, itink above rank, through the seraphic host, up to the 
 Divinity himself ! 
 
 The Cabinet of Comparative Anatomy is one of the most inter- 
 esting, and, like the former, is infinitely indebted to the incessant 
 exertions of Cuvier. The edifice, which contains it, is of older 
 construction, than the others. At the great door of entrance 
 are deposited two immense jaw bones of a whale. Many other 
 specimens may be seen within, including the skeleton of a sea cow, 
 brought by Capt. Parry from the North Pole. Skeletons of the 
 human species from almost every nation in the world allow com- 
 parisons to be instituted between the varieties of the human ani- 
 mal ; among the most curious of which is Bebe, the celebrated 
 Polish dwarf, who lived to the age of eighty years. The valiant 
 Gen. Tom Thumb, beats him, I hear, in littleness. 
 
 There are various anatomical preparations of muscles, brains, 
 eyes, viscera, <fec. of animals, disposed in such order, as makes 
 comparison easy. An extensive collection of casts of the heads 
 of many distinguished individuals possesses a rare interest to the 
 craniologist. This Cabinet is the richest in existence, and de- 
 serves a particular description, without which nothing but a very 
 feeble idea indeed can be imparted ; but this is not the place for 
 so minute an account, as would be necessary to make a sketch 
 useful, or even intelligible. 
 
 To the illiterate, the universe seems full of mineral, vegetable, 
 16 
 
IW OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 and animal creations, scattered abroad in fortuitous fragments, 
 and involved in inextricable confusion. Such was once the con- 
 dition of all knowledge, or rather ignorance, before science — at 
 first the offspring, afterwards the guide of man — pronounced the 
 mighty mandate, "Let there be light," and at once these disjecta 
 membra hastened to arrange themselves in their natural and beau- 
 tiful order, and a consistent whole sprang forth in just and grand 
 proportions. The possibility of calling order out of all this chaos, 
 and combining its confused elements into a system, must have 
 appeared one of the absurdest of dreams. At this epoch of sci- 
 ence, a sudden introduction to such a universe, though but in min- 
 iature, as the Garden of Plants presents, would have disclosed 
 an absolutely new creation ; in a revised edition it is true, and 
 much amended and improved in accordance with the laws of sci- 
 ence. And this microcosm cannot be viewed even now, without 
 experiencing, as it were, a new revelation of the Creator, in the 
 unexpected lights, that burst upon the spectator, of the relations 
 and design of his omnipotent productions. What was before 
 imagined to be a chaos of chance is proved to be the symmetry 
 of a fixed purpose ; and the infinite wisdom and power, which 
 the infant or barbarous man could always behold and adore in 
 the stellar and planetary worlds, are now found to pervade the 
 whole, even the minutest, and, if I may say so, the most neglect- 
 ed portions of the works of God. 
 
 I pass over the superb collection of casts of the heads of distin- 
 guished and extraordinary persons, and other objects very reluc- 
 tantly, with a simple mention, because there really seems no 
 middle course between such a notice and a volume, which would 
 be required for a description of any one of them. — To continue 
 my sketch. 
 
 In a new building, which is not wanting in pretensions to ar- 
 chitectural beauty, erected for the express purpose, is the Mine- 
 ralogical and Geological Gallery, containing more than sixty thou- 
 sand specimens. These are arranged in a long hall, running 
 nearly the entire length of the structure, in cases on the walls, 
 and in tables along the sides and in the centre, also upon the 
 galleries which surround it. The specimens are all under glass. 
 
 
STATUE OF CUVIER. 271 
 
 and labeled scientifically and popularly. The principal ornament 
 of the room is an exquisitely chiseled statue of the immortal 
 Cuvier, by Da\id. He is represented in an erect position, clothed 
 in the rich robes of the Royal Council of the University ; his 
 head is slightly bent, his face noble and full of thought. He 
 holds a spheroid, in which is a considerable opening, emblemati- 
 cal of his profound researches into the bosom of the earth. By 
 his side, on a slab, is the most eloquent of all inscriptions, — the 
 titles of his literary and scientific works. Before this ch^f d'oeuvre 
 are two marble tables, inlaid with florentine mosaic, most beau- 
 tifully executed — and a table, of which the top is a specimen of 
 every marble of Spam, cut m a square, and forming an exquisite 
 patchwork. This was a present from one of the kings of that 
 country many years since to this museum. The galleries on one 
 side contain all the known rocks and earths, geologically arrang- 
 ed ; and on the other, the fossils which are found in them. 
 
 The mineralogical collection is divided into four grand classes, 
 viz ; earths, containing an acid ; earthy substances or stones ; 
 inflammable materials, and metals. There are various kinds of 
 spar ; precious stones of all sorts, including diamonds of every 
 color, without mentioning inferior ones, called rubies and eme- 
 ralds, which are quite cast into the shade by the unrivalled bril- 
 liancy of the choicest of gems. Vases and crystals of colorless 
 quartz, agate, chalcedony, lapis lazuli, &c., attract the unskilled 
 eye. A large piece of native gold in nearly a pure state is dis- 
 played, which weighs sixteen and a quarter ounces. This cabi- 
 net was much improved by a donation made in 1825 by Charles 
 X., of a fine collection, bought by the civil list for sixty thousand 
 dollars. Additions are constantly made. Every encouragement 
 is given to the student by the professors, who are assiduous in 
 their efforts to explain and aid the stranger. In one of the gal- 
 leries are specimens of the skeleton of the mammoth, found in 
 the caves of Ohio, but much inferior to those to be seen at home ; 
 also of the elephants found in Siberia. 
 
 This is a very meagre account of the minerals, I confess ; and, 
 if there were room, wliich there is not, to draw even an outhne 
 of them, it would ill become me to attempt such a thing — ^me. 
 
272 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 who regard earths as good for nothing, but the nutrition of grain, 
 cotton and grass ; rock not as a chronometer to tell how old the 
 world is, but, merely as furnishing a missile to throw at a dog, 
 who disturbs my night's repose with baying at the moon, or a 
 weapon to extinguish the caterwauling gentry, against whom I 
 would willingly with all my might cast the choicest piece of gra- 
 nite in the whole cabinet, even if I knew that its felspar and mica 
 had been coupled in their everlasting union more than one hun- 
 dred thousand years ago. Cats however — and it is a remarkable 
 fact — are never heard of in Paris, any more than fires. The rea- 
 son of this must be left to the decision of the Epicurean philoso- 
 pher, simply remarking, that this scarcity accounts for the lean- 
 ness of the collection in that branch of natural history. 
 
 At one end of this last mentioned gallery, and in a manner 
 continuous with it, is the Botanical Gallery, founded by Vaillant. 
 The general herbal contains more than fifty thousand species. 
 There are besides separate ones of New Holland, India, Egypt, 
 and many more, which served ^s models for various works, as 
 that of Humboldt and others. Here, too, are specimens of the 
 woods, barks, roots and foliage of the trees of every climate. 
 With this collection and the living specimen in the green houses, 
 one, well studied, would never be at a loss to know the name of 
 a plant, or its nature, if wandering alone in the forests of the 
 tropics. Every wood is here found cut in different directions, 
 thus showing its various appearances. The most curious of the 
 whole are two cabinets, representing the fungus family, made in 
 wax, and presented to the museum, one by Charles X., and the 
 other by the Emperor of Austria. The former was executed by 
 De Pinson, and is estimated at the value of four thousand dol- 
 lars. Each specimen is exhibited in two views ; one whole, the 
 other cut lengthwise, showing its interior construction. The num- 
 ber of dried plants is more than three hundred and fifty thou- 
 sand, and of grains, woods, and fruit, five thousand. The marble 
 statue of Jussieu is of great beauty. The illustrious botanist is 
 sculptured in the act of examining a flower, which he holds in 
 his hand. It is a whole length, executed by Heral. 
 
 The library numbers thirty thousand volumes, and fifteen thou- 
 
LIBRARY AND PORTFOLIOS. 273 
 
 sand pamphlets ; but its most remarkable portion is its portfolios, 
 ninety in number, which contain six thousand drawings, original 
 designs, mostly upon vellum, figuring fruit and flowers. Nothing 
 can exceed the wonderful beauty of this unrivalled collection, 
 commenced in 1635, and valued now at more than four hundred 
 thousand dollars. 
 
 I have thus run through the enumeration of a small part of 
 what to see alone requires days, and many years to know. Suffi- 
 cient has been said, perhaps, to give some idea of its greatness, 
 its excellence and beauty. 
 
XL. 
 
 HOPITAL DE LA PiTIE — LiSFRANC — VeLPEAU — LoUIS — BotTRGEOIS MAR- 
 RIAGE AND Wedding Festivities — The two Milliners — A tender- 
 hearted Lawyer. 
 
 Behind the Jardin des Plantes is the Hopital de la PitiS, 
 founded in 1612, formerly an asylum for orphan children; but 
 since 1809 attached to the Hotel Dieu, and containing patients of all 
 classes. It is most noticeable for being the one to which Lis- 
 franc is attached. This great man, if talent can make one so, and 
 one of the most skilful surgeons, not only in Paris, but the world, 
 is now advanced in years. His fine head is crowned, like Mount 
 Blanc, by the snows of many winters, his locks being perfectly 
 blanched. His face is expanded and noble ; his eyes black and 
 gleaming ; his nose slightly Roman ; his mouth large. As a man 
 he is said to be very rough and jockeyish, and as a public character, 
 in which light only have I seen him, he is evidently a person of 
 extremely high and irritable feelings. He is abundantly skilful in 
 his operations, possessing at the same time an unerring judgment. 
 In his lectures his tones of voice are most remarkable. After 
 going on in a very low strain for a considerable time, so subdued 
 indeed, that great effort is required to hear him at all, he bursts 
 out all of a sudden, at the top of a most sonorous voice, making 
 the walls ring again, waking all his sleepy listeners, and that too 
 on a word, often the most unimportant of the whole sentence. 
 With Velpeau he has often come into collision, in the Concours, 
 and the battle has been desperately contested, victory sometimes 
 bestowing her laurel on one, sometimes on the other. The con- 
 sequence is, that a deadly animosity burns between them ; and 
 they give it vent, at the same time adding new fuel to the flame, 
 by calling each other hard names with the rough side of their 
 tongues. Velpeau, speaking of him in his public lectures, calls 
 
 2*74 
 
ANIMOSITIES OF THE LEARNED. 275 
 
 him " that man, more remarkable for the sound of his voice, than 
 any thing he ever said." Lisfranc, who hears the remark from 
 some kind friendly gossip, seizes the first occasion, that presents 
 itself, to throw the arrow back. He almost shrieks with excite- 
 ment ; his arms are lifted above his head, or dashed upon the 
 table before him ; he takes huge pinches of snuflf in rapid succes- 
 sion, while his countenance is contorted with anger ; but 
 
 *' The foe invulnerable still 
 
 Foils his wild rage by steady skill." 
 
 Rarely does Lisfranc begin a lecture without abusing his 
 competitor; styling him, in revenge, "the little butcher of la 
 Charite." This hatred, so virulent between these distinguished 
 men, is not an uncommon occurrence in the city. It is one of 
 the evils resulting from the system of Concours, to which I refer- 
 red in one of my communications on the hospitals. A similar ill- 
 will existed between the celebrated Dupuytren and Roux, which 
 ceased only with the life of the former. They however restrain- 
 ed their bitter feelings more within their own bosoms, and never 
 allowed an entire lecture to be polluted with such railing, as dis- 
 graces the two competitors of the present day. It is a melan- 
 choly sight to see two old people quarreling, and Time standing 
 near, ready to cut the victor down. Gray hairs should exhibit 
 the mellowness along with the decay of age ; and can never hope 
 to command respect, unless the fruit, as well as frost of time, is 
 seen in their company. 
 
 I was delighted, as you may suppose, to see cousin Ellen and 
 her husband here. " What ! come for your health ? it is per- 
 fectly ridiculous ;" and I succeeded so well in convincing her of 
 her bonne sante, that she had half a mind to forego the object of 
 her journey, which was to consult the great Louis. His charge, 
 however, is so moderate — only two dollars — that an interview 
 with him was considered by us all to be advisable ; for his deci- 
 sion is a /lat. Accordingly I called on him at his residence, Hue 
 de Menars, No. 8. While waiting for him in a handsomely fur- 
 nished parlor, I turned over the books upon the table. Without 
 exception, they were works of caricature. His intention must be, 
 it would seem, to remove the trepidation and constraint, so 
 
276 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 natural to a patient, when approaching a person who is about ta 
 pronounce judgment, as it were, upon bis chances of Hfe. Thus 
 restored to a balance in his feelings, the man of science can form 
 a better opinion of his case. Will this fact account for the 
 gayety of many celebrated medical men ? With a similar design 
 the celebrated painter, Stuart, was accustomed to interest his 
 sitters with the enchantment of his varied conversation. This 
 brought into action the distinctive lineaments of the face, and dis- 
 played their characters, if they had any. If they happened to 
 possess none, which was often unfortunately the case, taM pis 
 for the portrait, — no ane could be more negligent of his work ; but 
 on the contrary, if they were men of rank, or women of beauty, 
 the qualities, for which they were known, were certain to hve and 
 breathe upon the canvas. 
 
 ** He would wait," he said, ** upon the lady to-morrow morn- 
 ing, at half-past nine o'clock ; or if she would prefer it, she 
 might call upon him ; the charge would be the same." An 
 American would demand at least ten dollars for the same exam- 
 ination at his own oflSce. Is the high price of medical knowledge 
 in America, the consequence^ as that of com in Europe is, of the 
 badness of the crop ; or is it natural for the advice of the faculty 
 to rise, like a balloon, in proportion to its want of weight ? 
 
 Louis is the most eminent living physician, who attends to 
 diseases of the chest, and his works are translated into every 
 tongue. He has held various situations in the hospitals of the 
 city; where his lectures attracted crowds of students. Now, 
 however, he is placed at so great a distance from the Latin 
 Quarter, that fewer attend his cliniques. Nevertheless, none con- 
 sider that they have done all they ought to do, until they have 
 availed themselves of the advantage of the Hopital Beaujon. 
 
 Louis is tall and commanding in person, though somewhat 
 stooping. His face, formerly quite full, is now rather thin, and 
 deeply marked with thought ; an expression whi<)h is increased 
 by his use of spectacles — quite uncommon among the Paris 
 physicians. His hair, formerly light, is now silvered over. His 
 whole appearance is German — I do not know his country — and 
 calculated to induce one to repose confidence in him at a glance. 
 
LOUIS AND I. 277 
 
 The meeting took place ; the important examination which had 
 been sought at such a distance, so long, so anxiously, was over. 
 " Madam, there is no disease of the lungs." Was it not worth 
 the labor and expense of a voyage across the Atlantic ? More 
 than two years, that have elapsed since that day, have set the 
 seal of truth on our opinion ; pardon me the ** our," if only to 
 gratify my vanity in a momentary association of the two names. 
 
 The French woman trips through the gravities and even solem- 
 nities of life with the same flourish, and amount of forecast, that 
 she would show in going through a waltz or polka. There are 
 two sisters, young women, as they are called in Paris, of the ages 
 of thirty-six and thirty-eight, whom their father at his death, 
 some twenty years ago, left almost destitute. They have been 
 industrious milliners all this time, and now possess five thousand 
 dollars, it may be, between them. This, with the income of their 
 business, enables them to live quite comfortably. They have 
 their shop, and over it three or four other rooms, including a 
 kitchen. Two of the apartments are let, and if the tenant is a 
 foreigner, and can persuade the ladies to suffer him to take his 
 dinner with them, it is accounted an enviable privilege ; for it is 
 not easy for a visitor from another country to get domiciliated in 
 a French family. 
 
 One day the oldest of these girls discovered, that she had mo- 
 ney enough to buy a husband, a luxury never to be had without 
 a dowry. Matrimony here is commenced with the rule of Barter 
 and Exchange, and ended with that of Tare and Fret. She se- 
 lected an avocat by profession, but by practice a teacher, of about 
 fifty years of age. On the second of this month they were le- 
 gally married by a justice, and on the sixth remarried in the 
 church of St. Sulpice. I saw the whole performance with all its 
 fudge and mummery, and as such events are sure to fill a church, 
 I don't see why it should not one of my pages. Each falling on 
 both knees held a huge candle. This, to keep the white kid 
 gloves from being soiled, had a band of velvet round it, the 
 groom's of red color, the bride's of white. On the side of the 
 candle towards the audience is stuck a coin given by the bride- 
 groom for the purpose. This being visible to the company, a 
 16* 
 
 J 
 
278 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 piece of gold, I think, will be often substituted for the five franc 
 piece given on this occasion. The cunning originators of the rite 
 were undoubtedly aware of our infirmity of ostentation. This 
 money as well as five or ten francs for saying mass, as much 
 more for the poor, the pay for chairs, and many other items, 
 drops into the coffers of the church, which, like the crocodile's 
 mouth, is always open. So exorbitant are these demands, ex- 
 tracted for a rapacious hierachy by sacerdotal leeches, that the 
 patience and pockets of the poor husband are pretty well ex- 
 hausted. 
 
 After the ceremony was over, at half-past one o'clock, the in- 
 ^^[ted guests numbering thirty-five, proceeded to the apartments 
 of the bridegroom to discuss a breakfast. Infinite delays occa- 
 sioned by losing the key to the wines, and other accidents, put 
 it off to half-past four o'clock. It was almost time to dine, so 
 we were not offended to remark, that it differed in other respects 
 very httle from a dinner. This done, all separated to make pre- 
 paration for the evening ball. Fo»- this, the entire house of the 
 two sisters was put in requisition, the lodger's rooms and alL 
 Two rooms were used for dancing, the tenants' for card-playing, 
 and so on. Most French floors are uncarpeted ; as a compensa- 
 tion they are beautifully waxed, and therefore always in prime 
 order for a dance. All furniture was removed, benches covered 
 with velvet ranged along the sides, and mirrors, which are adored 
 all over the kingdom, covered the walls. 
 
 At half-past nine o'clock the company began to assemble, and 
 eighty or ninety were soon squeezed together, dancing, waltzing, 
 and amusinor themselves. If M. were here with her fastidious 
 
 o 
 
 notions about waltzing, she would find herself in a minority of 
 one ; which is quite too small to transact business, and barely 
 enough even in Congress to make a report. Frenchmen, so far 
 from deeming one arm around the waist objectionable, find it 
 easier to waltz with both hands of the cavalier clasped behind 
 her. When I shall teach you on ray return the polka, deux 
 temps waltz and the French quadrilles, we will have famous 
 dancing. 
 
 During the evening, some comic songs were sung ; but. 
 
DURATION OF FRIENDSHIP. 279 
 
 whether I am not yet sufficiently a proficient in the idiom 
 to enjoy the jokes, or whether there were none, I am not able 
 to determine ; it is my suspicion, that the French laugh easily, 
 especially at marriages. Refreshments of hot grog — a very 
 weak beverage, and disagreeable to me — orgeats, orange and 
 other waters, were passed around. Beside these, there were 
 fruits, and nuts glac6, that is, covered with sugar, cakes of the 
 most fragile character, very dry, and having the texture of the 
 pith of a cornstalk. They use no such cake as ours. 
 
 Thus we went on till half after four, when the company dis- 
 persed ; some of whom had come from Rouen, ninety miles. 
 The house being exceedingly discomposed, a few, who remained, 
 sought repose till morning a la mode Arabique, with very slight 
 regard to rank or sex, which are never spared by balls, in peace 
 or war. 
 
 So merrily went the marriage bell. But when Virginie began 
 to realize, in the solitary stillness of the succeeding evening, that 
 Julie, the partner of her bed and business for so many happy 
 years, had gone away, and left her companionless in her home, 
 she could no longer support the thought, and fell into violent 
 hysterics. It was then that Monsieur Dumas, to comfort her, 
 used the memorable words, afterwards so laughed at among 
 their connexions, *' Croyez bien, ma chere Virginie,''^ said he, 
 wrmging his hands, and crying aloud, with streaming eyes, ''Si 
 vous etes malade, je serais toujoiirs a votre clievet^ This little 
 speech was reiterated by him so often and so dramatically, as to 
 become a standing joke, which Virginie is no doubt cracking at 
 this very hour. What gave it point was, that the moon, which 
 lighted the guests to the marriage ball, was scarcely in the wane, 
 before he persecuted her with a lawsuit — next to the inquisition, 
 you know, in cruelty — about his wife's share of the partnership 
 effects. This scandal should have been prevented, if possible, 
 by Madame Dumas, since Virginie was the one whom Monsieur 
 first addressed ; and she kindly passed him over to her sister, 
 because she thought that, being the oldest, it was her birth-right 
 to be married first. 
 
 It cannot be disguised that my Httle milHners were extrava- 
 
280 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 gant, especially the capricious Virginie. They had their apart- 
 ments for retreat on Sundays, from the heats of summer, at Au- 
 teuil. I must admit, that their situation was delightful, near 
 the Bois de Boulogne. Then, was it not extravagant for Virginie 
 to pay a hundred dollars for a shawl, which she sometimes wore 
 on such warm days, as to be obliged to carry it on her arm ? 
 What vanity ! Worse still, she was the cause of the same folly 
 in her sister. Become a madame now, the latter was not by any 
 means to be outshone in dress. She therefore teazed her hus- 
 band, till she got a shawl, of course more splendid still, which 
 cost monsieur one hundred and twenty-five dollars. Ah ! these 
 milliners have a charming taste ; and persuade their husbands 
 that they prove it, in selecting them to pay their bills. 
 
 My letters lately, I perceive, are tending to excessive length. 
 This propensity must, if possible, be checked. I shall, therefore, 
 nip oflF the nmners, as the vine-dressers do, when I can, and now 
 give you an earnest of my sincerity. 
 
XLI. 
 
 How DO you LIKE Paris ? — Style of the buildings — Fires — Fire De- 
 partment — Water — Common Sewers. 
 
 Questions can be asked in Europe as well as America ; in 
 France, as well as New England. We hear, very frequently, 
 " How do you like France ?" " How do you like Paris ?" One 
 must be pretty adroit to reply without nourishing or wounding na- 
 tional vanity. This is a very sensitive plant, but I suspect, it 
 was not altogether unknown before the discovery of America; 
 though from the figure it makes in some of the late collections, it 
 might be thought never to have been met with in European soils. 
 Ten to one, it was imported along with the wearers of French silks, 
 or English broadcloths, lurking beneath them, like the original 
 cotton seed among tea. Our own indigenous botany is very well 
 known to consist of a more rugged and substantial growth, such 
 as potatoes and Indian com, which, especially the former, must 
 be admitted to be quite an awkward emblem of our imputed na- 
 tional trait. For further information, the works of Mr. Dickens 
 may be consulted, passim. He has treated this subject, as well 
 as others, in such a natural and unexaggerated way, as to excite 
 a wish, that he would devote his strikingly veracious talents to 
 the exact sciences, or to an auto-biography, where of course the 
 author would be precisely on a level with his subject, and 
 like two distorting mirrors, would faithfully reflect each other. 
 
 Having been some time now in this metropolis, I am better 
 able to answer these queries, than at first. A person should not 
 be in a hurry to break silence on arriving in a country, whose 
 manners and customs are different from his own. It is neces- 
 sary to see correctly, before he can judge properly. I do not 
 
 281 
 
282 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 mean to assert, that knowledge of the world comes to a man like 
 nutrition to the air plant — by absorption ; but, if it is a fact, as 
 it doubtless is, that all information reaches us, as Locke says, 
 through the avenues of the senses, they ought to be kept in the 
 very best repair, in order to transmit intelligence with accurate 
 promptness without any special act of the will, as the iron rod 
 constantly and quietly attracts the electric fluid fron the surround- 
 ing atmosphere. The remembrance of home is apt to give a 
 traveller the mal de patrie, and distemper his vision. Another 
 thing — we know that ti7ne alters the focus of the eye ; what is 
 not so clearly perceived is, that space does the same. I do not 
 now allude to the existence of a bias on the mind : because a 
 person, warped by prejudice or interest, cannot possibly see 
 things as they are, nor report them truly, if he could. A third 
 matter to be mentioned, — though deemed quite superfluous by 
 many — is, that the masculine property of common sense is useful 
 to any observer. One may be versed in logic, a master of science, 
 and of many tongues ; but if easily deceived and cajoled, cheated 
 in every article he buys, even at his own door at home ; run 
 away with by every pegasus, that some scheming adventurer and 
 admirable rider causes to caracole before him, whether it be 
 homoeopathy, animal magnetism, or any other nag, he is not a 
 man of common sense. It it is this Ithuriel attribute, that identi- 
 fies the gross credulity of the Catholic with the like facility of 
 implicit faith in other denominations ; and which is not surprised 
 to detect, beneath the coat and surplice, some of the same impu- 
 rities, that stain the scapulary. A man who lacks the intuitions of 
 common sense, cannot properly answer the question, What do you 
 think of Paris ? All have heard of the tourist in America, to 
 whom a young farmer remarked in conversation, "my poor 
 father is dead, and I am going to pull up stakes, and be off" to 
 the West." The traveler whipped out his memorandum, and 
 noted for the information of his countrymen at home, that " when 
 a father dies in the United States, they do not put down a grave 
 stone as in England, but — they pull up stakes !" To regard a 
 country as it deserves, all the senses of the best endowed have 
 enough to do. When a blind person therefore talks of what he 
 
SAPEURS POMPIERS. 283 
 
 sees ; a deaf one, like Miss Martineau, of what she hears, ** risum 
 (eneatis amid .^" 
 
 Let me begin an answer, then, to this Monsieur Tonson of a 
 question — and it will very likely be deemed an apt illustration 
 of the incompetency described. The city of Paris, properly 
 speaking, referring by this to the buildings, is not adapted to 
 strike an American visitor with pleasure. The gray stone, of 
 which they are almost universally composed, has a sad air, even 
 when new, that calls up two very disagreeable images, old age 
 and decay. A few edifices are constructed of brick, as is part of 
 the palace of Versailles. This is wanting, however, in that bright 
 red color, which gives a look of cheerfulness to an American city. 
 The prevailing hue is brown and sombre, with scarce a tinge of 
 red. This circumstance may be owing to imperfect burning, but 
 more probably to the character of its constituent clay. The 
 Place Royale, where Henry II. was wounded in the eye by the 
 Count de Montgommeri, is surrounded by structures of red brick, 
 faced with stone copings, which is the only instance of the style in 
 Paris, that I remember to have seen. Wooden buildings are so 
 very rare, that I do not recollect a single specimen. The number 
 of houses in the city is estimated at forty-five thousand. 
 
 Constructed of such materials, with walls and floors of some 
 earthy substance, and roofs of tile or slate, fires kindle with great 
 difficulty, and spread with much greater. Notwithstanding the 
 close proximity of the buildings, one rarely or never communicates 
 fire to another. The best proof of their rarity is the state of the 
 fire-department. A distinct set of men, called sapeurs pompiers are 
 devoted to the sole business of extinguishing fires ; and no one else 
 lends a hand, for he says, " it is none of my business." They are 
 an extremely fine corps, and are educated in gymastics to prepare 
 them for duty. Subjected to military discipline, and having a 
 uniform, they are in truth but an order of soldiers, who, under 
 this guise, are a formidable body, always prepared for an emer- 
 gency. When a fire occurs, they hasten to the spot with pails, 
 occasionally with an engine. They form a line and pass water 
 from the nearest fountain, and throw it on the flames, or into the 
 engine, which is unprovided with hose for suction. This is not 
 
284 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 its only deficiency ; its power enables it to project water to a veryf 
 inconsiderable height only. This feeble and inefficient machine 
 resembles those used in America twenty or thirty years ago. 
 The laws relating to fires are very good. If a man accidentally 
 and carelessly sets his room on fire — for scarcely any body has an 
 entire house to himself, if so, the law is the same — he not only 
 suffers by losing his own property, but must pay all the damage 
 it may do his neighbors, to whatever extent it may spread ; rarely 
 or never very far, indeed, as I have said, but sometimes a room 
 or two. There is no accounting for tastes ; for in America they 
 bum over their prairies and cities, once every few years, in order 
 to give them a fresh and lively growth. Thus they preserve 
 their title to the name of the New World. Of this attribute of 
 newness, they are so very fond, as to maintain it with proud ten- 
 acity in the names of some of their oldest States ; and propagate 
 the darling syllable, wherever a squatter has effected a lodgment, 
 or a hunter spread his blanket for a night. But they cannot 
 have antiquities in such a country, and the spires of their churches 
 will never have time to grow so high, nor their houses so large, 
 as in the Old World. This novelty is an expensive luxury. 
 
 I have observed, that I do not like Paris very well for its 
 buildings of snuff color, so closely compacted, and its generally 
 narrow and dirty streets. There are splendid exceptions ; some 
 buildings and some streets are as magnificent as can be. I am 
 not speaking, however, of the aristocratic portion of the city, but 
 of the tout ensemble. 
 
 Moreover, I do not love the water. Wlien I set my foot upon 
 the shore of Havre for the first time, after drinking the stale, 
 stagnant water of the ship for thirty-six days, I longed for a 
 draught of the sparkling element, the literal mountain dew. My 
 first demand of the servant at the hotel was for this delicious 
 beverage, which had played before my fancy for many a long 
 day and night. I tasted it with eagerness, but so unsatisfactory 
 was the result, that, concluding there was a mistake, I ordered 
 him to get some more, and to be sure that it was fresh. The 
 glass was brought again, but the fate of Tantalus was mine, with 
 variations ; I could not drink it. I did not know, till afterwards, 
 
SUPPLY OF WATER. 285 
 
 that it had come from an aqueduct, and been strained and fil- 
 tered, till the charcoal had deprived it of every particle of taste. 
 Paris water is the same. The nature of the soil, consisting of 
 rocky strata of great depth, has few springs, so that the inhab- 
 itants are driven to the Seine, or distant sources, made available 
 by aqueducts. At the beginning of the fifteenth century there 
 were but twelve public fountains, and a century later, in the 
 reign of Francis I., only sixteen, supplying but one inch of water 
 to a population of one hundred thousand. Allowing a quart a 
 day to each inhabitant, an inch will supply about one thousand 
 persons. What must have been the distress, when this quantity 
 was distributed among- three hundred times that number ! Un- 
 der Louis XIV. and XV., the city was principally supplied by a 
 pump on the Pont Neuf, denominated the Samaritan, which 
 yielded from thirty to eighty inches, according to the height of 
 the river. The population was then, (1*7 75,) six hundred thou- 
 sand. 
 
 Government has, of late years, taken the matter in hand ; and 
 the city now enjoys an abundant supply of this inestimable ele- 
 ment from the Artesian Well at Grenelle, and numerous aque- 
 ducts, and from reservoirs filled with water, pumped up by steam 
 engines from the Seine. This serves not only for drink and other 
 necessary purposes, but supplies the numerous ornamental foun- 
 tains, which are scattered over Paris, and feeds the fontaines homes, 
 or short fountains, at the corners of most of the streets, to the 
 number of sixteen hundred, whose beneficent office it is to 
 cleanse the gutters, and purify the city. Men appointed for the 
 purpose daily turn the cocks attached to them. All the fountain 
 water is purified by a large filter at the reservoirs ; but, as it is 
 not after all perfectly free from sediment, every house is com- 
 monly provided with another to complete the process. A few 
 houses have water conducted to them by small pipes connected 
 with the larger ones, but generally they depend on the water- 
 carriers, of whom I have before spoken. It is stated, that five 
 millions of francs are paid to these carriers annually. 
 
 The spare water flows off by the Common Sewers. These are 
 now substantial and capacious. In former times, the city suf- 
 
286 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 fered very much for want of them ; and, in 1370, the first was 
 built. This was, from time to time, stopped up, and thus en- 
 gendered many formidable diseases, from the odors and vapors 
 which it emitted. Since 1829, they have attracted extraordinary 
 attention, and are now about sixty miles in length, constructed 
 in vaulted masonry, at a cost of eighteen millions of francs. 
 Thus the purity of the city is accomplished, as far as possible ; 
 for the contents of the sewers are emptied into the Seine, and 
 soon borne away by the rapid waves. 
 
 It will take another letter, I perceive, to finish a reply to the 
 interrogatory, ** How do you like Paris ?" 
 
XLII. 
 
 Answer to " How do you like Paris ?" concluded — Religion — Cook- 
 ery — Utility of a Temporary Residence in Paris. 
 
 A CHILD can invent a question or objection in a few seconds, 
 that will take a philosopher as many days to solve, and it is hkely 
 not complete it then. The embarrassment springs often from the 
 magnitude, more than the intricacy of the subject. A ship of 
 the line will answer the helm with the same certainty, as a Balti- 
 more clipper, but demands more time and space to do it in. A 
 replication to the interrogatory, " How do you like Paris," is the 
 easiest thing in the world ; but requires a little world of space 
 and patience too. And so the danger is, that amid the rattle of 
 words the answer may be lost, like conversation in a cotton mill. 
 Many a speech has been spoilt, like the old continental money, 
 because there was too much of it ; and a sermon, that, in the 
 first half hour, wound up the audience to the highest pitch, al- 
 most always in the last half one snaps the spring of patience, 
 when they all run down again. But the failings of others will 
 never teach us caution, though their success is pretty sure to 
 tempt indiscretion. 
 
 When I say, as in my last letter, that I do not like the streets, 
 houses and water of Paris, I have said all I am disposed to do 
 in its disfavor. The condition of the edifices and streets is owincf 
 to their antiquity, and the habits of the country. Many of the 
 latter are so very narrow, that a carriage can scarcely pass, and 
 then there is great danger to the pedestrian, who is obliged to 
 save himself by entering under the large partes cocker es, which 
 are on the side. The trouble and rush are greatly aggravated, 
 when country vehicles attempt a passage. These are extremely 
 
 287 
 
288 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 large and cumbersome machines with wheels so immense, that 
 one is ready to imagine them relics of a former age, when they 
 were drawn by oxen, now called mastodons, and driven by giants. 
 
 Trivial matters there are, no doubt, to disturb the habits form- 
 ed by early nurture in another world, which sometimes vex us. 
 These must, of necessity, occur whithersoever we may go, even 
 to a country much superior to our own. I have already in va- 
 rious letters described the streets and amusements of this city, 
 and need not therefore say, that I have found the one very grati- 
 fying and diverting, and the other exceedingly beneficial and in- 
 structive. No one, who knows anything of the matter, questions 
 the advantages of Paris to the student ; and by common accord, 
 the world proclaims her the Cyprus of the moderns. 
 
 The religion of the Parisians has been variously spoken of. 
 Some indeed have even denied them any at all. But this is the 
 disingenuous view of a bigot or enthusiast. To be rational we 
 must discriminate. I should be sorry to believe, that the amia- 
 bleness, ci%ilization, refinement, beneficence and good nature, that 
 are conspicuous in this vast population, were not to be put down 
 to the credit of religion. Because such a supposition would 
 deprive Christianity of its distinguishing criterion — " by its fruits 
 ye shall know it ;" — and rob it of the pre-eminent glory of being 
 the parent of celestial charity with all its clustering virtues. The 
 manner in which religion here may strike an inquirer, depends — 
 and what does not ? — on his point de vue. After being disgusted 
 by the harsh dissensions, and useless, and often hurtful, discus- 
 sions or rather wrangling, of which the fountain of truth in my 
 own country is unhappily the subject, I will not say, the cause ; 
 after witnessing the minister-making and unmaking, church-mem- 
 ber making and proselyting, that have been systematized into a 
 branch of business there, the general tranquility, which pervades 
 society in matters of this nature in Paris, is soothing to the feel- 
 ings. I know the purity of the clergy has been called in ques- 
 tion — yes, flippantly denied — but who shall place the foibles and 
 transgressions of the various orders of the priesthood in Christen- 
 dom in the scales, and nicely trim the balance ? Those who ad- 
 minister at the holy altar are immaculate nowhere. The highest 
 
 
THE CHURCH'S LUST OF DOMINATION. 289 
 
 of them have fallen sadly, by means too of the old temptations, 
 which assail our common nature, " the world, the flesh, and the 
 devil." Is there any principle in the religious institution in 
 France, which strengthens the power of the tempter, or weakens 
 the motives to resistance ? Perhaps there is, but it is difficult to 
 decide. Indiscriminate surmise is easy ; but the real truth is not 
 obvious to a sojourner for a year ; nor, I apprehend, even to a 
 ** native to the manner born," without a particular and thorough 
 investigation. One thing is to be expected, that the branches of 
 the mighty tree of religious organization, which overshadows 
 Christendom, should bear the fruits of the original stock ; de- 
 generating, as it grows older, till a new one shall spring up from 
 the true seed of the divine and blessed Sower. 
 
 Errors there doubtless are in the Roman Catholic code of 
 morals and religion. Upon these it is not my present design — 
 though it is my privilege as well as that of every freeman, — to 
 touch. It will be time however to exert this unquestionable 
 right, when we Protestants can better agree among ourselves, 
 what those errors are. Yet I will venture to select one or two 
 of so odious a character and dangerous a tendency, as to call for 
 rebuke and opposition, wherever they appear. They are exclu- 
 siveness, and intolerance, or religious despotism ; twins in their 
 birth, and the inseparable Castor and Pollux of every hierarchy. 
 Commencing by making men slaves to the church, they prepare 
 them well for servitude to the civil power. Such a development 
 of reliofion has been in different acjes, now a tool, and now a 
 master of the state ; and will play the same parts again, when- 
 ever the tragedies, that have in times past dissolved whole coun- 
 tries in tears, shall be acted anew. A discouraginor feature in 
 the future prospect is, that, should this malignant power decline, 
 or be extinguished, of which there is no symptom as I can see, it 
 has pro\aded for the preservation of its exclusiveness and infalli- 
 bility by grafting those usurped prerogatives on offsets from itself, 
 transplanted in all portions of the Christian soil. 
 
 Far be it from me to assert, that the people of Paris are less 
 religious than those of America ; but I can safely affirm, I believe, 
 that they have vastly less hypocrisy. This base vice has been 
 17 
 
*290 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 often said to pay an involuntary homage to the value of religion. 
 Such precisely is my own opinion ; and it is a tribute paid too by 
 those, who are eminently competent to calculate its advo.ntage to 
 them exactly to a dollar. The devote in France, on the other 
 hand, is sincere, and unremitted in the performance of the duties 
 prescribed by her faith, not from popularity or fashion, but a 
 feeling of its solemn obligation. There is certainly more freedom 
 of opinion here ; and the Christian can repose his confidence in 
 any creed or dogma, without encountering the frown or stigma 
 of his fellow-mortal. Uncharitable judgment and vehement de- 
 nunciation are nevertheless a considerable mitigation of the inqui- 
 sition and auto dafe; and matters, it is hoped, will grow better 
 instead of worse. But all these favorable omens may possibly 
 prove fallacious. The Church may be temporizing now, but only 
 because it is weak. The time may come, when this still formi- 
 dable power, confessedly militant, though often military, may 
 claim its original temper with its strength. Then, becoming 
 weary with her long dalliance with the infirmities of men, it is 
 feared she will arise, like Achilles from the distaflf, and put on- 
 her terrible armor again to conquer and avenge. There are no 
 present indications of the advent of such an epoch, which can 
 never come, till the sects and governments, which chequer and 
 beautify the Christian world, and secure the independence of each 
 other, shall succumb to the famous principle of unity, so dear to 
 despotic power, civil and ecclesiastic. 
 
 The transition is natural and easy from the clergy to good liv- 
 ings, and so to cookery, the most agreeable of all the sciences, 
 whose pleasant province it is to provide for a table, round which 
 all communions and denominations agree to sit in peace, with lib- 
 erty for each to indulge in whatever suits its respective taste. Its 
 articles are swallowed with wonderfully less reserve than those of 
 the Council of Trent, or even the far-famed Thirty-N^ine themselves. 
 And what shall I say of the cuisine of this nation, renowned as 
 a frog-eating, ragout-making, wine-drinking race ? Why, I must 
 even re-echo the universal acclamation, and acknowledge for once, 
 that the vox populi is also mine. One cannot always expect to 
 masticate with a dififerent taste, though he may see things in a 
 
MAGISTER ARTIS. 291 
 
 different light from everybody else. I therefore cheerfully con- 
 sent to the elevation of French cookery among the fine arts, and 
 of French cooks to the dignity of professors. We pronounce the 
 imitation in paste, which rivals the brilliancy of the diamond of 
 Golconda, a splendid invention ; but what honors are due to him, 
 who extracts turtle soup from a calf's head, and converts, by his 
 curious alchemy, a tough old ram, the 'pater-familias of many gen- 
 erations, into a delicate, plump saddle of venison ! 
 
 " Magister artis, ingeniique largitor 
 Venter," 
 
 O, worthy disciple of the matchless Careme ! receive the thanks 
 of the innumerable admirers of thy gastronomic skill, now living, 
 and of multitudes yet unborn ! And, thou long-necked, broad- 
 backed, fin-flapping, amphibious cosmopolite ! tumble about at 
 thy ease in the briny floods, and sleep without anxiety on the 
 sandy beaches. No Robinson Crusoes — at least from France — 
 shall trip thy heels up, while perambulating the sea-shore, nor 
 rob thee of thy precious body to pamper their own. The unsus- 
 pecting calf has usurped thy place of dignity at the head of the 
 trible ; and thou livest but in name at the head of the restau- 
 rant bills of fare. But is not that, seriously, a valuable art, 
 which is able to transmute a very indifferent thing — as Lord Pe- 
 ter could a brown loaf into a leg of mutton — into an article of 
 pleasure to the palate ? There are those who affect to say, they 
 feel not the slightest preference of one thing over another, provi- 
 ded only, the taste is the same — By stopping the nose, this iden- 
 tity of taste will be accomplished ; for then all meats will have 
 the same flavor, all oils the same delicacy, all wines the same 
 gout. Even in such a case, the cook will not be useless ; for his 
 miraculous skill in overcoming difficulties will enable us to dis- 
 pense with the fatiguing process of holding on to one's nasal ex- 
 tremity during a dinner of spoiled meat, and a withered salad 
 dressed with whale oil. Glory, then, to the noble cook, the only 
 true agrarian ! He repudiates the maxim Ex nihilo nihil fit. The 
 grand distinctive among men has ever been the difficulty or ease 
 of obtaining a dinner. He has abolished this odious distinction, 
 and proclaimed to our hunger-tormented race, that all mankind 
 
292 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 have leave to dine. The chiffonier may henceforth come to the 
 table, and when that is the case, we know for a certaintv that all 
 men must really be free and equal. 
 
 Think of the immense productions of the earth, its millions of 
 bushels, its millions of pounds ; and the incredible magnitude 
 and worth of the large portion of the whole, that must pass 
 through the hands of the cook on their way to the millions of 
 mouths, that stand perpetually open, like those of young birds, 
 in expectation of receiving the customary dole. Two mighty pro- 
 cesses are thus going on in the world without ceasing. Nature 
 is exhausting her energies in producing ; man his life in consu- 
 ming ; while the cook stands between them, the great organ of 
 communication from one to the other. 
 
 What an important officer is he in the general dissemination of 
 pleasure, and the protection of so much wealth from waste \ 
 Surely such an artiste must be welcomed with eagerness among 
 my countrymen in the New World, where his drastic agency is 
 so much needed. There — in the country, I mean, — at one season 
 of the year, nothing appears upon the table from day to day but 
 veal ; at another, pork, honest and unaffected pork ; while a 
 third larger fraction of the twelvemonth is regaled with sheep 
 and lamb, and lamb and sheep, till a considerable fleece is said to 
 shoot out on the surface of the consumer's skin. What a meta- 
 morphosis would follow the advent of a Parisian artiste among 
 these grand realities ; one, who can erect a superstructure where 
 there is no foundation, and of whose works the remark is as ti-ue, 
 as it is of matter, that no particle of them is ever lost ! The wa- 
 ter, that boils his meats or vegetables, with the addition of a little 
 maccaroni or vermicelli and proper spices, becomes good soup, 
 such as — I shall be very happy to eat, when onoe more in New 
 York. Health, too, is commonly the result of such cookery as 
 this ; for during my residence in this city, all the time in constant 
 attendance on the sick, I have noticed extremely few cases of 
 trouble arising from the food. The various dishes are so well 
 prepared and cooked, that the digestive organs have not been 
 overtaxed in their duty of assimilating them to the body. I have 
 a strong inclination to say more on tliis subject, thus but slightly 
 
UTILITY OF FOREIGN TRAVEL. 293 
 
 touched, and shall do so perhaps hereafter, in comparison with 
 the modes of life in England. 
 
 " I hope your brother has not brought home any French 
 piippyisms," wrote one lady to another. A thousand similar 
 remarks are heard, insinuating the kind of importation, which is 
 thought to he usually made by travelers from foreign parts. 
 Are they true ? I answer, they are true ; and they are false. 
 
 Tliey are true of those who, at home, are coxcombs, and only 
 go abroad to gad, and gape, and gossip. When one of these is 
 asked, " Have you visited the Coliseum ?" he replies, " Don't 
 remember, my good fellow ; Frank pays the bills — is it a hotel 
 in Paris ?" The Forty Bale theory of South Carolina is quite as 
 applicable to this case as to the tariff; for what a man brings home 
 bears an exact proportion to the outfit. Thus, if the export is 
 an American dandy, depend upon it the import will be a Euro- 
 pean fop. 
 
 '* Coelum non animum mutant, qui trans mare currant." 
 
 These absurdities, more or less, apply to all who roam over 
 Europe, without any earthly purpose whatever. Their clothes, 
 their manners, their principles, their loyalty to their country 
 even, hang very loosely on them, and they are ever ready to 
 exchange them all at any time for those they become acquainted 
 with on other soils. Persons of weak minds, or in the gristle of 
 youth, are , particularly liable to the novel influences that sur- 
 round, and -will be apt to overpower them, in strange but refined 
 communities. A famous country, for the first time seen, is ever 
 invested with the halo of romance ; every object seems enlarged 
 by the mist of ages, with which it is enveloped. The outside of 
 old polished nations, which is sure to be the best, maintains, in 
 the immature and inexperienced judgment of such people, an 
 imequal comparison with the plainness, sometimes even coarse- 
 ness of their birth-place. Beside, the mind is first drawn, like a 
 child's eye, to the bright points, overlooking the imperfections, of 
 all the rest of the prospect. 
 
 It is painful to observe how many good Americans have been 
 converted into Europeans by being placed, when children, in a 
 17* 
 
294 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 French or German school, for education. At maturity, on 
 returning to their natal soil, they feel themselves to be foreigners 
 in every thing but the name, amid a population to which they 
 are unable to assimilate themselves ; and, till death, continue to 
 be attached to ideas which first occupied their youthful minds. 
 Their usefulness and honor have, in this way, been impaired by 
 the mistaken means employed by their parents to increase them. 
 The young American should be educated, and grow up in the 
 midst of his countrymen, on whose generous fellow-feeling he is 
 to repose for his happiness and future fame. Will parents weigh 
 the acquisition of two or three modern tongues, and a few lite- 
 rary and scientific advantages, perhaps, of foreign institutions, 
 against the morals, principles, felicity, and reputation of their 
 oflFspring ? Instead of this, all classes should receive their nur- 
 ture, as much as possible, in the company of each other ; and 
 the glory of the New-England Common School arises from its 
 tendency to prolong the literary and cordial fellowship of youth 
 among all ranks in life. The farther this idea is carried, the 
 better for the country. 
 
 But there are travelers, against whom the charge of coming 
 back from a temporary residence in foreign society worse than 
 they went, is false. These are such as have high and useful aims 
 in visiting the old world ; and go thither with some acquaintance 
 with their own, and an understanding not so vacant as to admit 
 the entrance of every novel notion. These will be likely to re- 
 turn laden with new acquisitions from the European market, and 
 an intellectual capital augmented by foreign traffic. The utility 
 of travel depends upon the traveler — 
 
 "Some minds improve by travel ; others, rather 
 Resemble copper wire or brass, 
 Which gets the narrower by going farther." 
 
XLIII. 
 
 Flower Markets — The Pantheon — Painting by Gros — Tombs op 
 Voltaire, Rousseau, Lagrange, and others. 
 
 My malady proceeded from a wisdom tooth, whicli was filled 
 in Boston, but still the work of decay went on. *' You did not 
 know I had been sick ?" I suppose, it is because I did not tell 
 you, then. How shockingly one bears sickness, whom Heaven 
 has always blest with health ! Compare him with the hopeless 
 invalid. Uneasy, impatient, fretful, he fills the house with up- 
 roar, like a spoiled child, who bellows, if a handsome blue bottle 
 does but just buzz near his thin ear. I have an excellent relative, 
 who, good soul, is a little plethoric. Occasionally after trifling 
 exercise in the sun of a New England summer, a slight nose bleed 
 ensues. The entire household is up in arms. On the instant, 
 men are mounted and on the road to the physician's dwelling. 
 The horses need no guiding, for they know the way, and the 
 doctor needs no message, when he sees the foaming steeds. The 
 female portion of the household have a trying time. One seeks 
 cold water ; another a rusty key to thrust along his back, as if it 
 was a case of lock-jaw. Red yarn is tied around his neck and 
 wrists, and an amulet of blood stones sheds its selectest influence 
 — and all this — because a man once died of epistaxis. The poor 
 invalid, on the other hand, accustomed to lie upon a bed of suf- 
 fering, for days, and months, and years, utters no complaint, 
 though racked by pain. No ripple agitates the tranquillity of his 
 home. A smile, though faint, must sometimes try to animate that 
 pale face, hke moonlight on sepulchral marble, so that cheerful- 
 ness shall not be entirely banished from the household. 
 
 But the sickest of all men, that have but a slight derangement, 
 
 295 
 
296 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 is the physician himself. His complaints always augur badly; he 
 he is quick to perceive symptoms of organic disease. His accel- 
 erated pulse indicates a fever ; a slight cold is sure to be an em- 
 bryo consumption. He treats himself with trepidation. His 
 constitution is peculiar ; half the doses for other persons he deems 
 sufficient for himself. He is then greatly alarmed, because the 
 medicine is inert ; for, when medicine refuses to act, danger must 
 be imminent. He does not remember the adage, equally applic- 
 able to his own profession as the legal, The man who pleads his 
 own cause, has a fool for a client. If a physician is thus imbecile 
 when at home, he is, in a foreign land, entitled to sincere compas- 
 sion. Images of death hover round him — no friends to soothe 
 his pains, or smooth his pillow. His little headache is an incipi- 
 ent brain fever ; he shudders at the thought of dying in a strange 
 country, away from all his beloved friends. He writes his last 
 letters, makes his will, and — f — iddle-de-dee. I am not sick to- 
 day. The horrible symptoms are all gone ; visions of future 
 happiness and joyous union with all that is dear come to occupy 
 their places. 
 
 The flower markets are pretty and quite numerous. But a 
 market here must not be thought to resemble the Quincy market 
 in Boston — a large substantial structure of stone ; nor one of 
 wood even. No — many of them cannot even boast of such sheds 
 as those of New York. Some indeed are built of stone, but 
 without the smallest pretensions to elegance. Others are merely 
 places, which may or may not have trees around them, and a 
 small fountain in the middle, like the flower market in the Citi, 
 Some of the marketmen, especially in the markets, which are 
 held every day, as th(»e for vegetables and others, protect them- 
 selves and their merchandise from the weathers' inclemencies by 
 huge umbrellas of canvas, which screen them from sun and rain. 
 The flowers themselves have no other shelter than the puny trees 
 around the square. The air is loaded with odors from these 
 charmmg productions of nature, off*ered in great profusion, variety 
 and beauty ; at least they are beautiful to me, pent up within 
 gray old walls, encrusted with the smoke of centuries. With the 
 same tact, which the French possess in such an eminent degree. 
 
THE GRISETTE AND HER FLOWERS. 297 
 
 BO evident in the merest trifle, these flowers are disposed in cap- 
 tivating arrangements. The pots, which contain them, are un- 
 washed ; but a sheet of white paper envelops them and the 
 plants also, except the foliage. The earth is hidden too, and so 
 the bright blows and verdant leaves are strikingly displayed in 
 contrast with the white ground relieving them. 
 
 It is astonishing what a quantity of them, such as the pansy, 
 daisy, and little rose-bushes, are sold to the poor grisettes. Their 
 prices, from the knowledge we have of the depth of the purses 
 of these simple girls, must be very small. From her day's 
 wages of twenty cents, she cannot possibly resist the desire to 
 spend two of them for a pot of those sweet violets. She stands 
 on one side looking at it from a distance. Presently she goes 
 nearer ; then takes the pot in her hand. Three beautiful violets 
 fully blown ; another just begins to show its purple colors ; and 
 see, under the green leaf at the side, there is another still. Two 
 sous are not much ; their absence will make a scanty dinner still 
 more meagre, it is true, but when the meal is eaten, it is gone ; 
 but the delightful flowers will solace many a lonely hour. Such 
 is her mental soliloquy, as her countenance plainly enough be- 
 trays : ** Voila jardinier ! here are your sous — and the flowers, 
 yes — they are mine." And they go home with her, pressed to 
 her heart, and tasting her rosy lips. Who would not be a violet ? 
 though to mount — mount — five flights of stairs are not enough ? 
 No, still a sixth. Ah ! the lot of a violet may be pleasant, but 
 that of the poor girl, its mistress, is not so enviable ; her path is 
 not always flowery. 
 
 I begin to flatter myself on having at last seen Paris. With 
 my numberless visits to most of the principal places, and my 
 views of it from the environs, I had considered, that the city had 
 been pretty thoroughly explored ; but it was necessary to make 
 another trial yet. One of the most magnificent edifices had been 
 from day to day postponed, merely because it could be viewed 
 at any time. Now, however, the great Pantheon has been seen. 
 In one respect it is much Uke the State House in Boston, for its 
 beautiful dome is conspicuous from all portions of the city, and 
 seizes as a beacon for a wide circumference. The reason that 
 
298 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 the little dome of freedom's temple in Boston is so prominent to 
 the citizen and sailor, consists in its situation. Placed on the sum- 
 mit of an eminence, and isolated by the smallness of the sur- 
 rounding buildings, it possesses unusual elements for the fine 
 display, which it really makes. It covers one of the lofty head- 
 lands of the bay with its crown, which however would long since 
 have been broken, like that of Jack, (of the firm of Jack and 
 Gill), had it adorned a human brow, instead of that of Beacon 
 Hill. 
 
 But the Pantheon owes nothing to its situation. The whole 
 city is built on nearly level ground. Real greatness is the only 
 thing, that can cause one constituent part of it to rise above its 
 neighbors. Two hundred and eighty two feet are the measure of 
 the distance from the pavement to the top of the dome ; and to 
 this height an easy access is provided, if the \dsitor has the strength 
 to ascend it, by four hundred and seventy five steps — a march 
 which will give him a feeble notion of the punishment of the tread- 
 mill ; on that account I entreat those legislators to try it, who 
 are in favor of that description of exercise, \\nien once this eleva- 
 tion is surmounted, an extensive prospect opens on the eye. — 
 Every other building is below, though, with the cathedrals of St. 
 Sulpice and St. Eustache, many still tower around. From no 
 other place can a better idea be obtained of the actual magnitude 
 of the city. In whatever direction one in the streets may turn, 
 the same mass of hoary walls stops the view, save when here and 
 there it is diversified by some conspicuous structure, for the num- 
 ber of which the city is remarkable ; or by the gardens of the 
 Tuilleries, or the Luxembourg. It is from this imiformity of 
 structure and material, that Paris seems so much smaller than it 
 really is. A single color paints it all. In our cities the red brick, 
 white spires, and wooden buildings variously painted, not only 
 render the coup d'oeil bright and lively, but by their diversity 
 communicate an impression of extent, which does not belong to 
 them. This metropolis, viewed througli a foggy atmosphere, 
 might be taken by one not conversant with wliat he was observ- 
 ing, to be a heap of rocks ; for it presents no object to correct tlie 
 natural illusion ; the steeples, chimneys, roofs, being all of stone. 
 
THE PANTHEON. 299 
 
 He might indeed be puzzled, by numberless smoke jacks and 
 funnels, two or three of which on an average spring from every 
 chimney in the city, for I question whether one exists that does 
 not smoke. 
 
 But to return to the pinnacle of the Pantheon, which we were 
 not wise to leave perhaps after the labor of cMmbing to it — let us 
 examine the interior ; for, strange to say, we have got upon the 
 top without entering the structure. The world looks gloriously 
 from the temple, and the temple looks finely from the world. 
 The approach is from dirty, narrow streets, whence we step into 
 a spacious, well paved square around it. The buildings, that 
 stood there, have been torn away to make it ; and those, which 
 are to be erected in their stead, must be formed with hollow 
 fronts, thflt the square, agreeably to the laws of Irish perspective, 
 may lie in the form of a ring. One only has yet been erected, 
 the Ecole de Droit. From this, an excellent view may be had of 
 the principal front. This is a magnificent portico, composed of 
 twenty-two fluted columns, sixty-feet high and six in diameter, 
 supporting a triangular pediment, one hundred and twelve feet 
 broad, and twenty-two feet high, which is embellished with a large 
 composition in relief by David ; — France — a figure sixteen feet 
 high — bestowing honors on her distinguished sons. Among 
 them are Fenelon, Mirabeau, Voltaire, Rousseau, Lafayette and 
 David the painter, on one side ; on the other are soldiers of the 
 republican and imperial armies, with Napoleon conspicuous at 
 their head. At the feet of France, Liberty and History, seated, 
 are weaving crowns to reward the great, and illustrate their 
 names. In the corners, children are endeavoring to imitate the 
 example, thus set them, and below is the inscription : 
 
 AUX GRANDS HOMMES LA PATRIE RECONNAISSANTE. 
 
 From the centre of the edifice rises the great dome, springing 
 from a circular gallery, surrounded by thirty-two Corinthian pil- 
 lars. Above this is a lantern, formerly surmounted by a ball and 
 cross, which are to be replaced by a bronze statue of Immortality 
 seventeen feet in height, a model of which is now in the temple. 
 She stands with one hand open to record, and holding in the 
 other a crown to reward, the deeds of the worthy. The whole 
 
300 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 elevation to the apex of the monument, will be more than three 
 hundred and twenty feet. The dome, pillars and all, are of stone. 
 
 On entering the Pantheon we find within but a single room, 
 which is in the form of a Greek cross, two hundred and eighty 
 feet by two hundred and fifty-eight. Its superbly sculptured 
 walls and ceiling, eighty feet in height, are supported by one 
 hundred and thirty pillars with rich pedestals and cornices. All 
 is white and pure within. From the shape of the structure the 
 effect of the dome is greatly diminished. It cannot be seen, til 
 one arrives at the centre, and almost breaks his neck in straininsr 
 to get a sight of the magnificent painting by Gros, who received 
 for it not only twenty thousand dollars, but the title of Baron 
 from Charles X. It extends over three thousand two hundred 
 and fifty-six square feet. 
 
 This edifice, when erected in 1764 by Louis XV, was intended 
 for a church, and has been vacillating a long time between that 
 and a hall of philosophy, till it has finally become a temple de- 
 voted to the reliques and glory of the illustrious dead. This pic- 
 ture therefore has a mingled design. The dome represents four 
 groups, rendering homage to St. Genevieve, to whom the temple 
 is dedicated. These groups are encircled by angels, each of 
 whom is a king of France, who by the lustre of his reign, or the 
 influence of his age, has created an epoch in the history of his 
 country. There is a circle, in which are seen Louis XVI, Marie 
 Antoinette, Louis XVII, and Madame Elizabeth, and in the cen- 
 tre the glory of Deity. The pendentives are allegorical pictures of 
 France, Justice, Death and Glory embracing Napoleon. The 
 picture in the dome can scarcely be seen distinctly from below, 
 on account of the inconvenient but necessary position of the be- 
 holder ; but one can mount to it almost, and then he may not 
 only examine the painting well, but from an inner dome look 
 down upon the people, who appear below like pigmies. People, 
 who are seen from above or from beneath, always appear much 
 smaller, than when they are at the same distance on a level, as 
 the moon in the zenith shows scarce half as large, as the same 
 satellite in the horizon, though not for the same reason. To o-ive 
 
PENALTIES OF GREATNESS. 301 
 
 one an idea of the magnitude of this noble picture, a mosaic cir- 
 cle is placed immediately beneath, and of exactly the same span 
 — thirty-three feet. 
 
 Under the temple are the tombs of those, whom France has 
 pronounced worthy of a place of such distinction. The guide 
 proceeds with a lantern through its chilly passages, and, as he 
 comes to each monument, arranges his company, so that they 
 can have an advantageous view, taps it with his cane, and after 
 a suitable preparatory hawking and hemming, commences his his- 
 tory. But his recital is almost as unintelligible, as the reading 
 of a well-fed priest. Voltaire and Rousseau have suffered the 
 penalty of greatness in being torn from a quiet country Abbey, 
 and the beautiful pleasure grounds of the Marquis de Girardin in 
 the isle of Poplars. And now with others, who have the mis- 
 fortune to be famous, their memories, like wild beasts in a me- 
 nagerie, are " stirred up" by a chattering guide, and their merits 
 canvassed by the stupid Englishman, who says ** well that's did," 
 — and the curious Yankee, who asks "have you ever saw?" — 
 neither of whom have ever read a syllable of their writings, and 
 know them only by the anathemas, which have been showered 
 upon them. 
 
 Voltaire is also brought to more vivid recollection by a fine 
 statue of Houdon's, which is placed on a niche near the mausole- 
 um. Lagrange, the distinguished mathematician, reposes here. 
 With all his mathematical powers he could not calculate the ab- 
 surdities uttered over his tomb, multiplied, as they are, by the 
 echo in a neighboring portion of these vaults. It seems to me 
 that so fine an echo might be better employed, than in repeating 
 the shouts and dialogues of the guides, and the blows inflicted by 
 them with their canes upon a sounding board, which they have 
 placed there for the purpose. The loud responses appeared to 
 my imagination to issue from the bodies of the dead, complaining 
 of the unseemly sacrilege. The ashes of about thirty eminent 
 persons now find a resting place in these caverns, enclosed in 
 marble cenotaphs or urns. The fickleness of the people is ex- 
 hibited in their treatment of the remains of the illustrious Mira- 
 
302 
 
 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 beau, which in 1Y97 was buried with much pomp by the Nation- 
 al Government, but were afterwards disinterred and banished 
 from the precincts. Marat shared the same fate. 
 
 Near this building is a reservoir for water obtained from the 
 Artesian Well almost a mile distant. 
 
 From the tone of several recent letters, I am afraid, you will 
 think I am engaged in dead-letter writing. Whatever the fact 
 may be, you may be assured that such is not my intention. 
 
 1 
 
 
XLTY. 
 
 Mint — Repugnance to the Use of Steam Power by Government — 
 Gregory XVI. — Cabinet of Coins — Medals — Jewelers — Academy 
 OF Industry. 
 
 The Mint is a large building of three stories, situated on the 
 bank of the Seine, and from its length makes a striking figure, 
 when viewed from the opposite side of the river. Perhaps the 
 arrangements of this institution are farther behind the age than 
 any other similar one in Europe or America. Those who are 
 acquainted with the workshops of the Mint in Philadelphia, pro- 
 nounce them infinitely superior. Not only are these dark and 
 dirty, but everything is inconvenient. It is almost impossible 
 to believe, from the appearance of the utensils, that such fine 
 coin, as is current in the kingdom, could be possibly produced ; 
 though it must be admitted to be still inferior in beauty to that 
 of England, the United States, and several other countries. All 
 the machines are worked by hand. From the foimdery, where 
 the bars are cut, I passed to the room, where they are flattened 
 and punched — all by hand labor. The punching requires a force, 
 which an unaccustomed arm is unable to command. In a suc- 
 cession of apartments the coin is baked, weighed, whitened, and 
 struck. This concluding operation is executed now by means of 
 a steam engine, placed here within six months. The various steps 
 are explained, in a satisfactory manner, by the workmen, who 
 oddly enough complain, without a single exception, tJiat it is very 
 warm here — French way of asking money ! 
 
 This government are extremely slow in introducing steam into 
 their works. They contend, that every steam engine makes 
 paupers of all workmen, whose places it supphes ; and, acting on 
 
 303 
 
304 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 this opinion, their work is consequently inferior to that of other 
 nations. The Pope of Rome (Gregory XVI.) taking a similar 
 view, has recently announced, that no railways shall be con- 
 structed in his dominions, as long as he shall live. The whole 
 nation living on the money which drops from the pockets of 
 strangers, his Holiness may be right ; since few more perhaps 
 would visit it, if the facilities for traveling were greater, while 
 those who went would obviously spend less. Churchmen in that 
 country, as well as our own, have a kind of second sight, where 
 money is concerned. Besides, the Vatican has never been fond 
 of new discoveries at any period, as Galileo found ; and it ought 
 not to be wondered at, if the courteous old gentleman of the 
 keys and triple crown is a little nervous about the introduction of 
 the exciting locomotive among his uneasy lieges. He knows it is 
 a Protestant invention, as much as the terrible Alliance ; and, 
 like another sensible and prudent Laocoon, may exclaim, Quic- 
 quid id est, timeo Danaos et dona ferentes. And why should not 
 the fiery horse, which has burnt the woods and barns along Long 
 Island Sound, also scatter light, and perhaps flame, among the 
 dwellers on the banks of the Tiber ? 
 
 In another part of the building is the Cabinet of Coins — an 
 immense collection. These are arranged in glass cases round the 
 room, with statistics connected with them. The oldest is a 
 French coin of Childebert I., of the date of 511. There are 
 English and Spanish coins in great profusion. In a small case 
 are shown the coins of America ; those of the United States are 
 very poor. With these there are a great number of medals ; 
 one of Charlemagne is a unique specimen of the time. Those of 
 the Louises, Napoleon, and Louis Phihppe, are almost innumera- 
 ble, A case of some of the most common and recent ones is 
 marked with the prices, at which they can be purchased. Many 
 casos contain specimens of the medals and tokens of various 
 societies and commercial companies. In an adjoining gallery 
 are the dies, from which the coins and medals have been struck, 
 since the reign of Charles VIIL, and specimens of the various 
 metals, used in coining, in their native states, as well as in their 
 pure and refined form. The whole collection is richly worthy of 
 
EXHIBITION OF INDUSTRY. 305 
 
 a visit, and to the antiquarian must be a delightful treat, for it 
 contains many relics, extremely valuable and rare. 
 
 Old coins are very easily obtained in France, abounding in the 
 shops of the gatherers of old rubbish. Among them, a few 
 days ago, was found a two sous piece, coined by Napoleon, but 
 never circulated — a few only having been given to the ministers 
 of the cabinet. It consists of a bit of silver, encircled by a ring 
 of copper, raised above the interior, to save it from wearing 
 away. Its price was fixed at five dollars. The admirable col- 
 lection of Roman coins belonging to the government is deposited 
 in the Bibliotheque Royale. 
 
 To this edifice, the jewelers, silver and goldsmiths, bring all 
 their manufactures to be stamped. This is not performed, 
 unless they possess a certain fineness ; the gold must be of 
 eighteen carets ; ten per cent, is charged on the value of the 
 gold. This proceeding insures the purchaser against deception 
 in the quality of the wares. Having very little money in my 
 pocket, I gazed upon these rich and glittering commodities with 
 the same pleasurable emotions, as one may be supposed to feel 
 on looking into the kitchen of the Astor House just before the 
 dinner hour. 
 
 I will conclude this l^ter by telling you an anecdote of the 
 great composer, Rossini, and the great cook, Careme. On 
 second thought, I will omit this for the present, which, like 
 Careme's own preserves, will not spoil by age, and give you a 
 hasty sketch of an exhibition of works and industry made by the 
 Academy of Industry of Paris, in the Orangerie of the Tuilleries. 
 It was on a somewhat similar plan to those often seen in Ameri- 
 ca, in Boston especially. The commodities however were entirely 
 French in their character and uses. Our shows consist of instru- 
 ments and works of utility with very often little pretension to 
 beauty ; such as labor-saving machines and substantial fabrics, 
 designed for the use and consumption of working men. These, 
 on the contrary, were all articles of luxury, fitted to the wants 
 of the rich and voluptuous, and to a highly artificial condition of 
 refinement. The cabinet work was of the most beautiful descrip- 
 tion ; but such as would very far transcend the means of any 
 18 
 
306 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 person less than a peer at the least. Beside each different vari- 
 ety of wares sat a young girl, who displayed their uses, beauties 
 and advantages ; distributed cards to every one, who passed, of 
 the makers' city address, and prospectuses of every novelty. I 
 remarked to one who had the oversight of one of these pieces of 
 furniture — a table of ebony, with a rich blue velvet top, inlaid 
 with other woods, — " Ah !" said I, " that is for no one less than 
 a httle king." " Au contraire," was the answer, which, reinforced 
 with a sweet smile, and bewitchinor words melted toorether — tout 
 d fait Frangaise — left one in doubt, whether to believe or not. 
 " On the contrary," said she, "it is for any one that will buy it. 
 It is a mere cadeau, only eight hundred francs." I could scarce 
 refrain from telling her, that my thrice great grandfather made 
 his own table of pine boards with hemlock legs, and on that he 
 ate his frugal meal one hundred and fifty years ago in the wilder- 
 ness of unexplored America, with a keener relish, than I fear the 
 buyer of this gew-gaw will know. Passing by suspender makers 
 to the Icing, my eye was caught by a new method of roasting 
 coffee, which has such an operation upon the grain, as to preserve 
 all its aroma, good taste and fine quahties without producing the 
 least effect upon the nerves ;" and the ci\dl attendant took a quan- 
 tity, and applied it to the noses of all that passed, giving each a 
 card, and hoping he would come and try it. There was a musi- 
 cal instrument, called Concertina Nouvel, which I had never seen 
 before ; it was claimed by the seller as a new invention. But it 
 is on the principle of the accordeon, in one respect at least, for 
 like that it must swell and contract in order to be played. The 
 tones are also not very unlike. This instrument is, however, 
 much more extensive in its compass, comprehending five octaves. 
 From a very hasty inspection I think it cannot be very different ; 
 the extraordinary compass it possesses may be attained by the 
 method of playing it, which is on both ends. Its form is octag- 
 onal ; but the keys are not arranged precisely in the same man- 
 ner, and this ser\^es to lend it an air of novelty. The price is 
 from a hundred and fifty to a hundred and ninety francs, accord- 
 ing to the case. It is capable of application to piano fortes and 
 organs. 
 
EXHIBITION OF INDUSTRY. 307 
 
 Near this was a vender of hollow, flexible tubes. These were 
 of any length ; their use was to call to one in another room. For 
 example, in the night a sick person has this cord passed round 
 the baluster to an apartment below, and placed near the bed of 
 the attendant there. If any thing is wanted, the sick man fixes 
 a small whistle to his end of the cord, the blowing of which arou- 
 ses the watcher. This friend, or servant being thus awakened, 
 one has only to substitute the mouth instead of the whistle, and 
 his wishes are at once communicated to him, who has his ear at 
 the other end of the tube. The price is sixty cents a metre, or a 
 little more than a yard. 
 
 Then we came to a little shaver, who showed off the beauties 
 of a traveling trunk, which he had, with a volubility more amaz- 
 ing than liis merchandize, which, my friend observed, must infal- 
 libly make his fortune. The glib-tongued youngster did not 
 understand our language, but concluding with national politeness, 
 that it was something fine, laughed heartily. The trunk was not 
 an ill invention. It was provided with small slides, making the 
 interior of any form desired ; allowing one to carry a bonnet, 
 hat, or other dainty thing, without injury. Next was one, who 
 had a box of paste, which, put upon a pair of white kid gloves, 
 would instantaneously remove every particle of dirt without the 
 least rubbing. Perhaps it might take gloves and all. Bonbons 
 and chocolate of aU varieties were there ; meats of every sort pre- 
 served for a voyage ; turkeys and chickens, that will retain all 
 their original flavor after a lapse of twenty years. 
 
 The lockmakers to the king — there was a time, when a French 
 king made his own locks — have, among other things a new in- 
 vention, which has some utility. It is a small lock, which is put 
 upon the outside, after the door of a room or house is locked, 
 and completely closes the key hole, so that no one can enter by 
 picking. There were lamps worse than ours at home, but highly 
 praised ; umbrellas in canes, &c. in great numbers. Sick chairs 
 of new invention are singular things to be shown by the prettiest 
 girl in the room, who freely commented on all their advantages. 
 Painted fans, of the most beautiful description, superior even to 
 Dorr's, were exhibited ; and diamonds manufactured to order of 
 
308 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 such brilliancy, as to easily deceive, when not compared with the 
 genuine monarch of the mine. This species of the gem is so 
 much Tvom in France, even in a common company, that almost 
 every body is connoisseur enough quickly to detect a counterfeit. 
 Whoever vrishes to cut a ficjure amonor Parisians with false stones 
 will find it decidedlv safest to do it with small ones ; as in their 
 estimation, when an ornament is not real, the less there is of it 
 the better ; a base coin of a low denomination only having any 
 chance for currency. Some cameos, that I saw cut there, will 
 not drop out of my memory for many a day. 
 
 But what seemed most extraordinary was the specimens of 
 hmr work. One piece comprised a representation of Pkre la 
 Chaise, wonderfully true to nature, containing every monument, 
 and all within a moderate compass. These were all standing in- 
 dependently of each other, without any mutual support. The wil- 
 low trees, the common grass, the clover and the bouquets placed 
 there by aflfection, were entirely of hair, and all perfect. I could 
 read the names of the deceased upon the monuments, which a 
 single hair appeared to write. Behind, moved by machinery, 
 advanced the funeral of a soldier, who was carried on tlie shoul- 
 ders of his compatriots. Tlie whole was charming. And these 
 clever people work on chains and bracelets equally well. Shall 
 I not do mv friends a favor bv directing them to the crreat es- 
 tabhshment Rue de la Coq, where all is done cheerfully and in a 
 superior manner ? I think so. If they can make even a cemetery 
 attractive, what must be the consequence, when they exert the 
 full power of their exquisite art upon the already beautiful sex? 
 It is the plainest problem in the Rule of Three. 
 
XLY. 
 
 Chaumiere — MoNS. CosTE — FouRiERiTEs — La Democratie Pacifique 
 
 MoNS. Bureau and Family — Frederika Bremer — Prof. Longfel- 
 low — Observatory — Mons. Arago. 
 
 I HAVE just sent you letters by Dr. G. B. S., of Philadel- 
 phia. How I longed to be en route with them for New- York ! 
 As I returned, it began to blow ; and in half a minute the rain 
 descended in torrents, accompanied with thunder and lightning. 
 I stepped under a grande porte cochere, to wait for the tempest 
 to be over, and saw au fond du cours, a sign, on which was 
 written Bains. I had no need of a bath, for the streets were 
 immediately flooded, and neither pavement nor trottoir was to be 
 seen. As, under existing circumstances, I did not wish to swim, 
 there was absolutely no choice but to remain where I was, and 
 act upon the statu quo, until the deluge should subside, and the 
 street be fordable. In the evening, feeling intolerably ennuyeux, 
 I set off for the Chaumiere, a ball-room, celebrated for its beauty 
 and pleasures. Notwithstanding the glowing panegyrics I had 
 heard on this popular resort, my raised anticipations were far 
 surpassed. The place seemed, to my imagination, the fabled 
 gardens of the genii. Nature and art conspired to captivate the 
 senses. The air was redolent with sweet odors, stolen from hlacs, 
 laburnums, acacias, and innumerable flowers ; music intoxicated ; 
 lamps, brilliant with gas, reproduced, through elegantly cut 
 shades, a softened day, and beauty, seen through the green 
 leaves gracefully turning in fairy waltzes, colored the whole 
 scene ^-ith the rose hues of sentiment and feeling. Even Juno, 
 Venus, and other shining divinities, left their celestial abodes on 
 this occasion, and from the numerous winding alleys, and build- 
 ings around, appeared to enjoy their evening's visit very much, 
 
 309 
 
310 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 if I could judge correctly by their radiant smiling faces. The 
 dancers are grisettes and their cavaliers ; the spectators are 
 delegations from every class of people in Paris ; and the Enghsh 
 tongfue is almost as common as the French. 
 
 I was surprised to see at these balls the great men of the 
 city, the most distinguished in the fields of letters and science. 
 I have already mentioned, as you may remember, that I attended 
 the celebrated lectures of Mons. Coste, Professor at the College 
 of France, on Embryology. He is soon to publish a work, which 
 will be the completest on the subject, to the aid of which the 
 Government has advanced twenty thousand francs. I was walk- 
 ing leisurely about, absorbing as much as possible of the joyous- 
 ness, that was overflowing and running to waste everywhere, 
 when accidentally I met him. He inquired, ** if I intended to 
 dance." My answer was, " I did ; for a physician is not per- 
 mitted to enjoy a rational pleasure in America ; and I must seize 
 the few dancing moments that are left me," " Come," said he, 
 " I am looking for the extravagances ;" and we found them 
 easily, you may be sure. In one place a mulatto girl was floating 
 in the waltz and polka with her Caucasian lover ; and many a 
 fair spectator would have assumed her yellow skin, could she 
 have taken with it her fine silk dress and jaunty hat. An ample 
 heel proved not the least impediment to superior waltzing. A 
 young girl, in another quarter, herself without attractions, con- 
 trived to draw a crowd around the set where she was pirouet- 
 ting, by the peculiar way she had of showing a fat, and not 
 
 particularly taper hose distender, for it just occurs to me, 
 
 that American women have no legs. "Ah," says M. Coste, ''the 
 human specimen, in a state of perfect development, is a strange 
 animal." For a moment, I fancied myself listening to his lec- 
 ture at the college ; but glancing at the speaker, and then at the 
 surrounding audience, I was quickly reassured ; the great lecturer 
 and the learned sagefemmes vanished ; M. Coste and the beau- 
 tiful grisettes happily reappeared, and the scene became brighter 
 than ever for the shadow, that had passed. A little farther on, 
 we found a throng applauding a young fellow, who, in the midst 
 of the dance, was turning somersets, rolling wheels, and perform- 
 
FOURIERITES. 311 
 
 ing similar absurdities, without losing a note of the music. In 
 another portion of these elegant gardens were the Montagnes de 
 Rasse, This is an inclined plane, elevated to the height of an 
 ordinary three-story house, on which several railways were sunk. 
 Ascending to the summit by winding-stairs, for five sous one may 
 enter and go down the railway in a little chariot. From the 
 steepness of the descent at the commencement, the velocity is 
 very considerable. The wheels of the vehicle are checked at the 
 end of the course by running into loose sand, and thus it is 
 stopped. No danger can arise in enjopng this miniature ava- 
 lanche, for a leather band confines the rider to the coach, and the 
 sides, raised some eight inches, are nearly on a level with the 
 small wheels ; nevertheless, there is plenty of screaming among 
 the fair adventurers. 
 
 The organ of the Fourierites in France is the newspaper. La 
 Democratic Pacifique. In the saloon attached to the editor's de- 
 partment, there were assembled the other evening several of the 
 most musical of the Phalansterians to hear some music composed 
 by Mons. Prudent, one of the first Parisian piano players. He 
 had sent his grand piano before, following it himself, as fast as a 
 game-leg would allow ; and gave us a delicious treat. Mons. 
 Bureau, the musical editor, apprized me of the entertainment, as 
 he had of similar ones before. Another part of the evening's 
 amusement was a recitation of his works by a poor poet. In his 
 rough grey coat he contrasted strongly with the smooth, sleek, 
 well-dressed gentlemen in white kid gloves aroimd him. Being 
 a fine reader, he succeeded, by the aid of a sonorous voice, in 
 passing off some rather indifferent rhymes, as their nice dresses 
 did his genteel critics, for all that they were worth, and a little 
 more perhaps. This man gets his living by vending the works 
 of the Fourierites, and procuring subscribers for this newspaper, 
 selling occasionally a copy of his poetry, which is all clear gain. 
 He is called the apostle of the Phalansterians, and his face gives 
 indication of considerable talent. 
 
 Having mentioned the name of Mons. Bureau, I must not omit 
 to remark, how much he and his wife sympathized with Horace 
 Greeley, of New York, on the burning of his office. His inter- 
 
312 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES, 
 
 esting family reminds me more of the United States than any- 
 thing I have seen in France. Their history would adorn a tale, and 
 is not entirely destitute of romance ; but my account shall be con- 
 cise. He was a captain of artillery ; she a poor tailor's daughter. 
 He was not handsome ; she quite pretty and graceful. He not 
 rich ; she without a sou. If any one in the army marries, he is 
 obliged to take a wife, who has a dot (dowry) equal to his rank, 
 varpng of course with his position. The private courts by sous ; 
 the oflBcer by francs ; there is a fixed price. Poor Mons, Bureau 
 wished to marry the indigent working-girl. In doing this he for- 
 feited his rank, espoused poverty, and now lives in more content- 
 ment, than any Frenchman I have ever seen. He does not pass, 
 like them, all his days within a cafe ; his home is too enticing. 
 There he is surrounded with a charming educated wife, and three 
 smUing boys and girls, precisely at the age when they are most 
 pleasing. Madame occupied herself in putting them to bed one 
 night, soon after my arrival, and the whole operation was so 
 vividly home-like, that it went directly to my heart, and the 
 memory of it warms it still. 
 
 I frequently spend a portion of an evening there, and read to 
 her from Thiers' French Revolution, while she corrects my pro- 
 nunciation. Once she consumed some time in tr}nng to teach me 
 the euphony of the word usurpateur; after all, it was left as an 
 exercise for the next visit. Wlien the throat gets husky, I give 
 her, in return, a lesson in the polka, which she is anxious to ac- 
 quire ; and I have actually received compliments at a small party 
 for the proficiency of my graceful pupil. She is naturally so 
 gentille, and the messieurs so accustomed to applaud her waltzing, 
 that they do it more, perhaps, from habit. Never mind. Mr. B. 
 comes home in time to play for us. Then Mons. S. and his silent 
 wife are frequent visitors. She is from the nobility, and gave her 
 hand and purse to obtain the fine countenance and superior tal- 
 ents of her husband. 
 
 Just hear him talk of the garde nationale — the mUitia of the 
 kino-dom. He was formerly an officer of the army under Napo- 
 leon ; but now a militia private ; and his commanding officer is 
 a butcher. Every inhabitant, who has any property to protect. 
 
MONS. BUREAU AND FAMILY. 313 
 
 is included in this corps, whose duties are no amusement. 
 Clerks and all subordinates are excluded. It numbers in the city 
 of Paris 55,000 men, splendidly equipped, and by frequent drills 
 exceedingly effective. They are bound to fight, not for their 
 *' sacred honor," but solely for their " lives and fortunes." Every 
 member, if not sick, at certain intervals, once in two months, per- 
 haps, must don his uniform, shoulder his musket, and give the 
 day to the service of his king and country. The man of ease or 
 science — the poet, too, if one can be found, who possesses any 
 property rights to secure, but those of copy — is forced to spend 
 twelve hours of the day, warm or cold, wet or dry, marching 
 and countermarching ; eyes, now right, now left. Should busi- 
 ness render it desirable, instead of these, his all-powerful com- 
 mander may assign him, as a matter of favor, the agreeable 
 duties of mounting guard and making the night patrols. There 
 is no excuse whatever ; he must go ; the only privilege ever 
 granted is an absence of three or four hours, on applica- 
 tion to the butcher ! I have often, when attending the 
 
 lectures of Ricord, Dubois, and Sechel, seen them in their uni- 
 forms, presenting a ridiculous contrast to their usual dress and 
 duties. But, as you can't hear Monsieur's laughable exposition 
 of the benefits of the garde nationale, listen to the beautiful 
 song whicli Mons. Bureau is performing, and you will hear his 
 words vocalized. It is called Le Roitelet ; and the singer is 
 giving you his own music. (This song will soon be published by 
 Atwill, 201 Broadway, with English and French words, in his 
 ** Beauties of the Opera.") Mons. B. has composed and pub- 
 lished many veiy sweet songs and waltzes. They are superior in 
 my estimation to the generality of French romances, which seem to 
 depend for their interest entirely upon the words, as the music is 
 quite common-place. 
 
 Much of my happiness here springs from these charming 
 people, whose kindness has greatly endeared them to me. I 
 cannot give them fame, I know ; but it is a pleasure to ex- 
 press my gratitude in these letters, some of which Madame B. 
 has read, and say that the memory of the family, in whose bosom 
 18* 
 
314 OLD VVL\E IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 I am welcomed, is a pressed flower, destined to be one of the 
 sweetest souvenirs of my European visit. 
 
 The myriads of strangers, attracted to this city, are really mar- 
 velous. Not many evenings since, I chanced to have a seat at 
 the Opera Comique by the side of a Swede of considerable intel- 
 ligence, who spoke English with much fluency and ease. One 
 cannot long converse with a countryman of Frederika Bremer, 
 without mentioning a name, which, as a sort of middle term, 
 makes mutual acquaintance of all her readers in the most distant 
 lands. Such is the power of intellect and goodness in union with 
 truth and nature, to draw unknown individuals, and even nations, 
 towards each other. *' Your translations," he asked ; ** from what 
 language are they made ? from the original ?" I replied, " that 
 I believed, they were almost wholly from the German ; for I had 
 a doubt, if there were a dozen persons in the Union, competent 
 to translate a Swedish work at the period of the first publication 
 of her interesting tales." " Ah," he answered, ** I think they 
 are not so rare, for I myself knew one of your countrymen at 
 Stockholm, who was a very talented man, and so beautifully 
 translated the exquisite Children of the Lord's Supper by Bishop 
 Tegner. I have seldom seen better versions than those executed 
 by Professor Longfellow. Ah, if he would translate the writings 
 of Frederika, she would then obtain that credit in America, to 
 which her works entitle her ; at least it may not be too much to 
 hope, that he might superintend one." "I should regret 
 extremely," I rejoined, " that he should devote his time to the 
 labor of translation, for we are in the constant hope of another 
 work from him, sparkling with fresh gems of beauty, such as 
 those so lavishly strewn in his exquisite Hyperion, which has a 
 charm, like that of the Opera we are now witnessing, La Syrkne^ 
 one of Auber's best." 
 
 At the extreme end of the garden of the Luxembourg, cross- 
 ing the space, where the brave, though unfortunate Marshal Ney 
 was shot in 1815, one comes to the Observatory, erected in 1672, 
 in most respects after the designs of the celebrated astronomer, 
 John Dominic do Cassini, who was summoned from Bologna for 
 
MONS ARAGO. 315 
 
 the purpose. The edifice is entirely of stone, neither wood nor 
 iron entering at all into its construction. During later years, 
 this building proving inconvenient, the astronomical observations 
 have been made in one near it of smaller dimensions. In this is 
 the meridian line, by which all French calculations are made. On 
 the first floor of the main structure is a telescope twenty-two feet 
 in length and twenty-two inches in diameter, which is however 
 not now used. In this building are many other instruments of 
 ancient and modern manufacture. Here is a Bureau des Lon- 
 ffitudes, consisting of two geometricians, four astronomers, two 
 navigators, and one geographer, with numerous assistants, who 
 hold weekly meetings, and present an annual report to the king, 
 which is published. 
 
 This edifice contains one of the most beautiful amphitheatres 
 in the city, which is used for a lecture room by the renowned 
 Arago, one of whose elementary works has recently been edited 
 by Dr. Lardner, and published in New York. Eight hundred 
 persons can be accommodated in this hall ; and so eager is the de- 
 sire to hear him, that it is filled with beautiful ladies and wise 
 men long before the hour of commencing. The room is embel- 
 hshed with fine statues in marble of Newton and Herschel ; busts 
 of La Place and others ; a painting of an appropriate allegory 
 adorns the ceiling. The entrance of the philosopher was greeted 
 with demonstrations of pleasure and honor, which are indeed the 
 usual compliment to the popular lecturers in the various academies 
 and schools. He is of large stature, and five feet ten or eleven 
 inches in height. His head is bald upon the top, and elsewhere 
 covered with long gray hair ; and his capacious face betrays the 
 vestiges of some sixty-five winters. All his features are large 
 and coarse, and his black and sparklmg eyes, which constitute 
 the best feature he possesses, are overshadowed, and nearly 
 buned, beneath shaggy brows covered with hair, once black, but 
 now thick-sprinkled with autumnal frosts. His mouth would be 
 remarkable, were it only for its uncommon size ; but it absolutely 
 engrosses the attention, as soon as it is observed how wonder- 
 fully it varies, and adapts its shape to every word that is uttered, 
 displaying teeth yellow and mummijied by years. No hair is 
 
316 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 suflfered to remain upon his cheeks. In point of dress one might 
 be tempted to call it slouchy, could such an epithet be thought 
 of in connection with so distinguished a personage. His clothes 
 are black, but have not any of the spruce, attractive look, that 
 sometimes divests a widow's weeds of all their woe, and almost 
 all their sadness. Those, on the contrary, of the great astrono- 
 mer have an air of sincere sorrow ; and, as there was no especial 
 reason for it, probably it was for being no better than they were. 
 This uncourtly toilet is rendered more conspicuous by his white 
 cravat. 
 
 As a lecturer, M. Arago is plain and distinct in his articulation 
 and explanations, so that even while calculating the distances 
 of the moon and sun from the earth, he was so perspicuous, that 
 a child could follow him with ease. In the first portion of his 
 lecture, which was concerning winds and storms, his frequent ci- 
 tations of experiments made in the United States brought to my 
 mind Professor Espy again lecturing at Harvard College ; where 
 the numerous collegians, who attended his course, complimented 
 him by coming to a man, with open umbrellas over their heads. 
 M. Arago, in common with the French generally, employs much 
 gesticulation ; and his performance, interspersed with frequent 
 amusing allusions, elicited often repeated applause during its con- 
 tinuance of two hours. 
 
 The weather in Paris has been extremely unpleasant, generally 
 cold with constantly recurring showers. Occasionally a day quite 
 warm, by inducing a removal of some portion of one's clothing, 
 exposes him to take cold from the chill, which is certain to suc- 
 ceed. The French assert, they never knew such unpleasant 
 weather at this season ; but the American residents affirm, that 
 last year was just the same. The probability is, that very few 
 of either have known what kind of weather it was any day they 
 ever lived, and if they did, forgot it in a week. 
 
XLTI. 
 
 HOPITAL DE BiCETRE, AND ITS OcCUPANTS — ThE MoRGUE. 
 
 Half a league from the barrier D^Italie is the Hopital de Bice- 
 tre, one of the most interesting of all the charities, with which Paris 
 is adorned. The first building on this spot was the chateau, 
 erected by John, bishop of Wincester, in 1204, and thence called 
 after him Wincestre, which, twice altered in the lapse of ages to 
 Bichestre, and Bicester, at length assumed the name of Bicetre, 
 by which it is now known. In 1632, Louis XIII. bought it, and 
 and established there a military hospital for invalids. Louis XIV. 
 annexed it to the Hopital de la Salpetri^re ; and it is now in all 
 respects a similar establishment, except that it is entirely devoted 
 to males, as the other is to females. It is an immense range 
 bearing the scars of antiquity, though well preserved. In an 
 architectural view, it is not so striking as the Salpetriere, for it 
 wants its grand church dome rising majestically from the centre 
 of masses, which appear to be one entire structure. 
 
 This building is divided into five departments. First, the re- 
 posans, who are the servants of the various hospitals of the city. 
 At a certain age they withdraw to this retirement, where a com- 
 fortable home is afforded them during the residue of their lives. 
 Then come the infirm, who are at least eighty years of age — the 
 oldest in the house having reached ninety-seven years. Persons, 
 who have turned their three score years and ten, compose the 
 third department. The fourth consists of the infirm poor, and 
 those of all ages, who are infected with an incurable disease. A 
 melancholy miscellany of insane, idiots, cretins and epileptics, 
 constitutes the fifth and last department. The first four depart- 
 ments number four thousand persons ; the fifth alone nearly nine 
 
 317 
 
318 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 hundred. The air of comfort, which surrounds these aged men, is 
 grateful to a lover of humanity. There they are, with their locks 
 of silver, seated around the courts and gardens, contented and 
 happy, chatting together ; or, if still pretty strong, pursuing the 
 avocations of former days, and selling to visitors the products of 
 the industry which amuses them ; such as carved work, cocoa 
 rings for napkins, pin-cases, little boxes, and other things. I 
 noticed the table of one division set for dinner ; and the pewter 
 service, brilliant as silver, proved the care and neatness that per- 
 vaded their domestic economy. Four hundred persons sat at 
 this board. The individual daily allowance is a portion of soup ; 
 one and a quarter pounds of bread, white and good, four ounces 
 of meat for dinner, accompanied with some vegetable, a dessert 
 of cheese, and a quarter of a pint of wine. To those over seventy 
 years of age the quantity of wine is doubled ; while they who 
 have been thirty years in the house, receive a double allowance 
 of everything. The cost of each is about eighteen cents a day, 
 and the whole annual expense, one hundred and eighty thousand 
 dollars. There are no private dormitories, but from twenty to a 
 hundred sleep in a single room. When sick, they are transferred 
 to the hospital, and receive every requisite attention. 
 
 It is the fifth division, however, that demands our deepest 
 sympathies. Poor creatures ! sunk below the level of humanity, 
 wanting the faculty of reason, yet without possessing instinct, 
 its substitute in brutes, they form the saddest spectacle, that can 
 be presented to human eyes. Tenderly should they be cherished 
 by human hearts. And well has that obligation been here re- 
 deemed. How soothing it is, even to the ordinary feelings of our 
 nature, to behold the humane attention which is paid to them, 
 though subject, as many are, to the most filthy and disgusting 
 habits ! Their dormitory is perfectly pure, and free from the 
 least odor ; the waxed floor reflects the face of the visitor ; and 
 the beds are scrupulously clean and neat. This ward is a model 
 for all similar ones, that I have ever seen. The most faithful and 
 unremitting labor alone could have accomplished this herculean 
 task. The buildings appropriated to the lunatics are long and low, 
 rising to a single story only. The most strenuous exertions are 
 
LABOR, THE BEST PHYSIC. 319 
 
 used to sustain them in complete order. The oaken floors of 
 palaces cannot surpass the brilliancy of the daily waxed floors of 
 these cells. Their food is httle better than that of the other ten- 
 ants of the hospital. I thought it strange that wine, which has 
 more or less effect on the head even of a sane man, should be 
 served to them at the rate of half a bottle a day — sufficient surely 
 to plant 
 
 " A dagger in the heat-oppressed brain." 
 
 The patients are distiibuted into three divisions, each under 
 the charge of a separate physician, who has nothing to say in 
 reorard to the treatment of the others. This distribution has no 
 
 o 
 
 reference to distinction in the maladies of the patients. Each of 
 these primary divisions is subdivided into three others with respect 
 to their degree of tranquilUty. Among the notabilities is an Albino, 
 said to be eighty years of age. He is exceedingly active, and a 
 living proof that this peculiar people are not necessarily short- 
 lived. 
 
 The curative efforts vary from those in all other lunatic estab- 
 lishments in the city. Evefy motive is used to induce the 
 patient to employ himself on something of his own free will. Many 
 are consequently engaged in regular labor ; some making hats 
 of straw, others fancy baskets, and the like. In connection with 
 the institution is a farm, where numbers are employed with dis- 
 tinguished advantage to the crops and their own health. There 
 is an establishment upon it for the raising and fattening of swine, 
 where every operation is performed by these invalids, in preparing 
 them for the market, down to the moment of their quitting the 
 yard, dressed and quartered. But this particular department I 
 did not see. Some of the patients, whose health or tastes give 
 them a preference for other employments, are provided with such 
 as suit them. 
 
 Among the various means adopted for their improvement is the 
 establishment of schools. The patients generally belong to the 
 lower orders, which in France and through Europe indeed, are 
 lamentably ignorant. Few know even how to read and write, 
 which of coui'se become the principal branches of instruction. 
 
320 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 There have been some, though none are here at present, who 
 have prosecuted more advanced studies. The walls of the school 
 room are embellished with pictures drawn with a pen, hke those 
 which decorate the writing academies, so numerous in every 
 city in America, to which oil paintings and other ornaments are 
 added. This treatment, I am told, succeeds beyond expectation ; 
 but I do not know what was expected. 
 
 One ward is appropriated to those, whose minds habitually 
 brood over plans of murder and arson ; some were pointed out, 
 who had killed a mother and a sister, and one who had murdered 
 two men in a diligence. The friend who accompanied me began 
 to ogle the door. The guardian, however, re-assured him by 
 stating, that no attempt ever was made on the safety of visitors, 
 nor even of the medical attendant, in his diurnal round, for they 
 regarded them as beings endued with superior power, whom it 
 w^ould be idle to attack. It was the guardian himself, who was 
 the object of all their persecution and vengeance. But on glancing 
 at his muscular frame, I felt qmte at ease on the score of his 
 security. Yet notwithstanding his commanding presence, he 
 frequently receives blows from their fists and wooden shoes. You 
 must not suppose, however, that his strength is used in contend- 
 ing with his patients ; it is, on the contrary, merely employed for 
 their necessary restraint. In no lunatic asylum is a patient per- 
 mitted to be struck. 
 
 There are not many objects of general interest connected with 
 this establishment. A well of prodigious dimensions may, how- 
 ever be considered as one ; said to be five hundred feet in depth, 
 and fifteen feet in diameter. This statement seems extravagant ; 
 yet it is certainly immense ; for the sound of water thrown into 
 the awful abyss, requires a great length of time for its passage 
 to the surface. It is worked by machinery, propelled by twenty- 
 four insane men, and is but little used, as an aqueduct from the 
 river now supplies the hospital with water. 
 
 Near the Pont St. Michel is situated a structure, which attracts 
 the notice of every stranger visiting the city, in consequence of 
 the publications of travelers ; and yet it is a building possessing 
 no interest in itself. Composed of stone, without pretension; 
 
THE MORGUE. 321 
 
 plain, and even insignificant ; without a sign or flag, or anything 
 else to distinguish it, every body would be in danger of overlook- 
 ing one of the most extraordinary places in Paris, were it not for 
 the number of people seen constantly entering, and soon return- 
 ing from the enclosure. Following the multitude to-day, I enter- 
 ed a small room, divided into two parts by a glass partition, to 
 which the company is prevented from making too near an ap- 
 proach by an iron railing. The crowd of dirty blouses, charcoal- 
 men, washer-women, and hucksters of all sorts, is so great, that 
 we are kept for some time at a Uttle distance. A quantity of 
 clothes is hanging on nails around the apartment ; such as are 
 near are of poor quality, an old cap, and the well worn garments 
 of a man, having the appearance of being rough-dried, wrinkled, 
 and much soiled. Beyond these, in the middle, hangs the ap- 
 parel of a woman ; — a pretty, open worked straw bonnet with a 
 neat riband, a crape shawl, a dress of white cambric and body 
 linen of fine texture ; from all which the water is dripping. 
 Still farther on, are male garments of costly materials, dabbled 
 with blood. 
 
 The enormous straAv hat, which has obstructed our view for a 
 long time, is now attempting to retire, and we can begin to see 
 through the glass — " Oh, horrors !'' said my fair companion, 
 " what an awful sight is this ! 'Tis the Morgue ! — the dreadful 
 spot which I have shuddered to think of, and never wished to 
 see. — Oh, let us go." I had seen enough myself, though a con- 
 templation of so many hospitals, museums of anatomy and abat- 
 toirs had given me nerve, and I was not so easily disturbed, as 
 my pale-faced friend ; so we went out. Iron frames supporting 
 inclined boards to the number of eight or ten were arranged 
 round the room, into which we had looked. On these, directly 
 underneath the collections of clothes, were outstretched the bod- 
 ies of their wearers, stripped naked, with the exception of a slight 
 covering of small size about the loins. Of these unfortunates, 
 after inquiry, I obtained the following account. 
 
 The character of the first might be read without much diffi- 
 culty in his red and bloated face, bearing indelible traces of the 
 ravages of strong drink. He had been drawn from the Seine, 
 
322 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 into which he had thrown himself, or unintentionally fallen. 
 The body had evidently remained some days in the river, and 
 becoming thus putrescent, a constant shower of water was pro- 
 jected upon it from a cock, which was fixed above, as well as 
 all the other inclined frames. The owner of the feminine ap- 
 parel was a girl of twenty-two years, and more than commonly 
 handsome. Her delicate features were as white as marble, 
 contrasting strongly with her hair of jetty black, which fell in 
 deranged, but luxuriant masses upon her beautiful shoulders and 
 naked breasts. She had just been taken from the water, and 
 there she lay in such sweet repose, that, but for the associa- 
 tions of the place, one might have imagined her a Nereid in 
 placid slumber. The morning papers gave her name and his- 
 tory. She was not a goddess, but only a poor grisette, who 
 earned a meagre subsistence by daily labor. She was employed 
 in a shop to sell goods, and had lived in pleasant harmony with 
 a young clerk in the same establishment many years. But lat- 
 terly, it seems, he felt her charms to be less attractive, and, grow- 
 ing tired of her society, he had fomented a dispute on purpose to 
 effect a separation ; and so he left her to seek another companion. 
 The poor girl, however, being not gifted with the same selfish 
 facility, or heartless infidelity, found herself unable to support 
 the estrangement, and sought a reconciliation. But in vain. Her 
 false lover had accomplished his object, and, thus abandoned, 
 she felt that the only way 
 
 " To bring repentance to her lover, 
 And wring his heart-strings, was to die." 
 
 A leap from the Pont Neiif, where the swift Seine runs most 
 rapidly, and all was over. 
 
 The other body was a Spaniard from the West Indies. A 
 long purse in Paris very shortly exhibits to view the terrible 
 epitaph : 
 
 " Mene, Tekel, Upharsin." 
 
 but when the gambler puts his fingers into it, the catastrophe is 
 too sudden to admit any premonition. Constant losses had 
 nearly exhausted the ample funds of this unhappy youth, when 
 
THE GAMBLER'S FATE. 323 
 
 one day, in the private apartment of a cafe, the report of a 
 pistol was heard, and he was instantly found entirely dead, hav- 
 ing his head shockingly mangled by this awful act of self-de- 
 struction. 
 
 To this building are conveyed the bodies of unknown persons, 
 who meet with accidental or violent deaths. If not claimed by 
 any friend, they remain three days, and then are interred at the 
 public expense. The number thus annually brought is about 
 three hundred, of which one-sixth only are females. 
 
XLVII. 
 
 Royal Lunatic Hospital — Dr. Foville — Price of Board — Treatment 
 — Curious Practice in a part of France — Pyramidal Heads — Flat 
 Heads — Blockheads — III Treatment of Infants — New Jersey Hos- 
 pital FOR THE Insane — Departure from Paris. 
 
 Yesterday morning I heard a lecture on Insanity at La Sal- 
 petrikre, and this morning I went to the great Royal Lunatic 
 Hospital at Charenton, about seven miles from Paris. By means 
 of the omnibuses and early rising, I got there at nine a. m., and 
 attended the visit of the physician, the celebrated Dr. Foville. 
 This institution was founded in 1644 by the minister Sebastian 
 Leblanc ; subsequently converted to a boarding house by the 
 Brothers of Charity, for the care of lunacy, and in lYOY changed 
 again to a government establishment. It is most beautifully sit- 
 uated on the summit of an eminence, which commands an excellent 
 prospect of the city, the Seine and the country around, now in 
 the pride of its glory. The bank of the river, and a small island, 
 which is a dependence of the hospital, are covered with trees of 
 various descriptions, of which poplar, maple, and horse chestnut 
 are the most common and conspicuous. The poplar is not here 
 the same miserable ragged runt as in the United States. In its 
 native soil, uninjured by the mild winters, it towers aloft a very 
 handsome ornament to the landscape. It is said, with how much 
 truth I cannot vouch, that those in America are all of the same 
 sex, and reproduced by offsets mostly ; and that, even when 
 springing from the seed, like the races of mankind, they have 
 deteriorated from want of *' crossing," so essential among animals 
 to the raising of a vigorous and healthy offspring. 
 
 The edifice itself, though but partially built, is a pattern of the 
 kind. Some years ago a bill passed the Chamber of Deputies 
 
 324 
 
GREAT UTILITY OF BOWS. 325 
 
 appropriating one million of dollars to its construction. More 
 than one half has been finished at a cost of six hundred thousand 
 dollars, which completes the accommodations for males ; the fe- 
 males are still in the old building, soon destined to give place to 
 one in correspondence with the male department. Dr. Foville, 
 the physician, resides in the city, and makes four visits to the pa- 
 tients every week. There are a resident physician and apothe- 
 cary beside, who have the charge in the meantime. Few men 
 are better qualified than Dr. F., for the care of such an institu- 
 tion. An uncommon union of suitable qualities renders his su- 
 periority evident. In person he is of good size, and endowed 
 with strong athletic powers. His countenance has a peculiar ex- 
 pression of gentleness, decision and reflection. Were we to 
 notice his voice alone, so particularly sweet, soft and winning, 
 we should be disposed to characterize him as a good-natured 
 man, but deficient in firmness ; but when one remarks his treat- 
 ment of the patients, and his general conduct, it is easy to recog- 
 nize his possession of that resolute determination, so indispensa- 
 ble to his office. In no situation perhaps are the scrapes and 
 ccmges of a Frenchman so productive of real good, as in the man- 
 agement of the insane ; the angry passions of the furious are 
 calmed and softened by the deference which such manners habit- 
 ually display. In going his rounds the doctor had some ten or 
 twelve hundred bows to execute in the space of three hours. 
 Thus polite to the patients, he certainly was not less so to my- 
 self and friend — Dr. Selden, of Norfolk, Virginia ; — and from this 
 visit we bore away with us not only a knowledge of the construc- 
 tion of the building — erected after the plan of the distinguished 
 Esquirol — the method of classification and treatment of the pa- 
 tients ; but many hints and ideas of value, which he communica- 
 ted. As the feelings of patients might be sometimes injured by 
 hearing observations made respecting them, he chiefly spoke in 
 English, which he had at perfect command. 
 
 The patients are of three classes, who pay respectively thir- 
 teen hundred, nine hundred and seventy-five, and six hundred and 
 fifty francs a year, including washing. Fuel, private servants, 
 and incidentals swell that amount of course. The rooms, which 
 19 
 
326 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 those of the highest class occup}^ are really very fine. They 
 have a charming aspect, commanding the delightful view before 
 alluded to, and are handsomely supplied with mirrors, clocks and 
 other furniture. During the periods of exacerbation, no distinc- 
 tion is maintained in the classes ; they are removed at once 
 from their rooms to another department, where their noise would 
 be heard only by those as furious as themselves. In the treat- 
 ment of the patients, very little, if any, medicine is given ; opiates 
 and sedatives with extreme rarity. The cold douche is not an 
 uncommon means of soothing the excited state into which they 
 frequently relapse. The doctor in speaking of it expressed his 
 opinion, that it was a remedy of great power, but — should be 
 used with extraordinary care, and by no means so indiscriminate- 
 ly, as it is frequently done. Cold baths, and sponging the body 
 with cold water, are often employed. As a means of confinement, 
 the strait jacket is the principal. A treatment of kindness is 
 now generally adopted throughout the world ; rarely indeed do 
 we hear at this day of murders or other outrages perpetrated by 
 the insane. Take a sane person, plunge him in a dungeon, en- 
 veloped in filth and exposed to the inclemencies of the weather, 
 load him with irons, throw him his victuals, as you would toss 
 bones to a dog, and it would not be very marvelous if he should 
 revenge his wrongs sometimes by deeds of violence as startling 
 as any that have ever been committed by the crazy man. An 
 instance of the powerful operation of kindness, on a disordered 
 intellect is furnished in a young girl, not wanting grace or beau- 
 ty, who in another institution killed two of her fellow-patients. 
 She is calm and rational here, and needs only kind words and 
 gentle management to render her, what she has become, an 
 agreeable tenant of an apartment adorned in a style of costly 
 luxury. 
 
 In this institution there is less apparent confinement, than in 
 any similar one, that I have ever seen. The windows have none 
 of those horrid looking iron bars, which characterise a prison. A 
 grating of wire, nearly the size of a pipe stem, seemed designed 
 more for the protection of the glass, than the security of a cap- 
 tive prisoner. The doors were open with few exceptions, and 
 
LECTURE ON HEADS. 327 
 
 their clothes were in their rooms, so that they could take them, 
 when they wished to promenade in the court below. Though 
 one hundred and eighty persons were attached to the establish- 
 ment having the care of the patients solely, without including 
 the private servants, there was no symptom of surveillance. As 
 a peculiarity in the practice of Dr. F., I noticed that he made no 
 concealment of their malady, but conversed with them on the 
 subject, as he would have done of any bodily disease. This I 
 think much better, than the subterfuge and evasion so commonly 
 resorted to for the concealment of the patient's complaint, which 
 is sure, sooner or later to be discovered by him ; and information, 
 thus obtained, is likely to be productive of much detriment to the 
 patient. 
 
 As we went round the long galleries. Dr. Foville pointed out 
 to us several persons, whose heads were of a very peculiar form, 
 more or less perfectly approaching the pyramidal ; the face might 
 represent the base, and the occiput the apex. Their foreheads 
 were particularly flat and narrow. In reference to them he re- 
 marked, that this species of head was peculiar to a particular 
 department of France, in the same manner as the flat-heads of the 
 Indians are peculiar to one tribe. In this district more children 
 die at an early age than in any other ; the diseases being princi- 
 pally convulsions and other maladies, which depend on the health 
 of the brain. More insane come from this, than from any other 
 quarter of the kingdom, in proportion to the population; and 
 finally, more cases of idiocy, epilepsy, and the like, than elsewhere 
 What is the cause ? Evidently the peculiar shape of the head, 
 which pervades the people of that whole region, who all partici- 
 pate in this deformity, in a greater or less degree, without a single 
 exception. So universal is it indeed, that some painters and 
 sculptors, regarding it as the natural head of man, have drawn 
 from this source their beau-ideal of beauty ; and fixed upon the 
 sloping shoulders of their Venuses and Apollos, heads gracefully 
 rising in tapering pyramids. 
 
 An investigation of this extraordinary phenomenon has been 
 made, and the cause discovered. The Flat-Head Indians are 
 known to alter the form of their infants' heads by pressure on 
 
328 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 the skull, when its bones are in a more or less cartilaginous state, 
 and not yet firmly united. From this fact it was suspected, that 
 some such prank was practised on these children of France ; and, 
 sure enough, it has been found, that mothers and nurses have 
 been employed for centuries in the wholesale business of driving 
 mad, maiming, and murdering the children of a particular district. 
 This enormity has been committed by putting a peculiar cap upon 
 the heads of their tender offspring, and fastening it tightly there 
 by means of a strong band ; and this simple cord has killed its 
 hundreds, and diseased an entire region! With the Flat- Head 
 Indians the pressure is in another direction, and may affect the 
 intellect, while the nutritive organs are unimpaired. Dr. Foville 
 mentions an autopsis made on one of these countrywomen, who 
 had the venous circulation so impeded, that a large plexus was 
 formed, for the accommodation of which a deep cavity was sunk 
 in one of the lobes of the brain. So that from the silly ambition 
 of improving the beautiful proportions of nature, men have suc- 
 ceeded in producing the valuable varieties of pyramidal-headst 
 Jlat-headSy and block-heads. In the meantime, the other sex have 
 not been idle ; but their abilities, it is well known, have been 
 principally displayed, at least of late, at the other end of tlie 
 human specimen. 
 
 And now what is the use of such a narration, which is not to 
 *be read by medical men ? It appears to me, I confess, though 
 probably in pure simplicity, to enclose the kernel of something 
 capable of a fruitful application. In Yankee land the head is not 
 thus hooped ; the fact is granted ; but — the body — ^is the body 
 free to grow, as God designed it ? The swath bound tightly 
 round the body of the infant — does that do nothing ? Are the 
 internal organs left to their perfect development ? Is the pres- 
 sure on the liver nothing ? How often do the helpless creatures 
 vomit the healthy nourishment they swallowed just before ! May 
 not that be caused by pressure on the stomach ? I have seen the 
 liver of a woman marked with a deep furrow, plowed by the 
 screw of the corset ; cannot a similar mark be seen in the liver 
 of a young child ? Should any one deem these interrogatories 
 foohsh, pray do not impute the folly to Dr. Foville ; he is entire- 
 
HOSPITAL AT CHARE NTON. 329 
 
 ly innocent, for they are none of his. One thing is certain — no 
 injury can be done by guarding against tight bandages on the 
 flexible, half-ossified body of the young child. 
 
 The patients are resolved into three classes ; the most turbulent, 
 the comparatively quiet, and the convalescent. There are also 
 rooms, where some in intermediate stages are temporarily placed 
 on trial. One young man from the West India Islands, entirely 
 nude, was bouncing about a room, whose floor was covered with 
 straw. He was a recent inmate. In another was a man, who 
 came from the country to bring a neighbor just attacked. He 
 was returning homeward with his companion in a state of exces- 
 sive excitability ; but before he reached his house was seized 
 himself in a similar way, and the same manacles, which he had 
 put upon his friend, were fastened on himself. 
 
 Notwithstanding the excellent accommodations, which are 
 here afforded ; the healthy situation of the hospital ; its real 
 beauty, with the high reputation of its physician, I was informed, 
 that few of the nobility or rich bourgeois were sent hither, but 
 that private establishments were preferred, where high charges 
 were thought to guaranty superior care and attention. For my- 
 self I must acknowledge, that I never saw in any similar institu- 
 tion so many advantages combined. Of the beauty of the 
 situation I cannot say too much, though at the hazard of frequent 
 repetition ; it is indeed unrivalled, and with the sanguine aspira- 
 tions of a life just commencing, I can say from my heart, that 
 here I should be extremely happy to spend my days. 
 
 The accommodations are now sufficient for five hundred and 
 fifty patients ; the future buildings will in some degree enlarge 
 them ; beside, one wing, having been recently finished, is not yet 
 occupied. I observe by your Daily Advertiser, that New Jersey 
 intends shortly to build an Insane Hospital within her borders. 
 Let not, I pray, the Hospital at Charenton, constructed from the 
 plan of the greatest man, who has ever been engaged in the treat- 
 ment of these unfortunates, be overlooked or disregarded. At 
 any rate whatever else is neglected, it is to be hoped, that the 
 form of this edifice will be adopted — a building of a single story. 
 This will necessarily occupy a greater extent of ground ; but it 
 19* 
 
330 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 will create numerous courts between its walls, allowinor free ex- 
 ercise to the patients in apparent liberty under the trees, which 
 should be planted there. To crown the enterprise with success, 
 may the State be so fortunate as to secure for a superintendent a 
 learned and gentlemanly — in short another Dr. Foville ! With- 
 out a competent physician, the State will, after all, have only 
 turned some thousands of dollars into stone and mortar. 
 
 This is my last letter from Paris, which I leave with emotions of 
 sadness, in two hours for London, through Holland and Belgium, 
 by Switzerland and the Rhine. A month or more probably will 
 be consumed upon the way, of which I will attempt some hurried 
 sketches taken on the wing. 
 
 And now I must take a reluctant leave of thee, ma belle 
 France. I did not think, when I came among thy people eight 
 short months ago, alone and friendless, that it would ever give 
 me such a pang to part. But they have twisted themselves 
 around and within my heart, and I have begun, I feel, to shoot 
 out radicles of affection, which are fast rooting me to thy beauti- 
 ful country. Farewell to the land of the apple, the grape, and 
 the olive. For these, and thy mild skies, thou hast a name, and 
 others may admire thee. But I love thee for thy great and 
 famous men, thy refined and lovely women, and the many dear 
 friends, that I have no sooner found, than I must lose forever. 
 Alas, that is a melancholy word to say, and wraps up a serious 
 and momentous thought. Yes — we shall never meet again. The 
 scenes in which we have mingled with such delight the past few 
 bright months, will be repeated here another year : but we shall 
 no more see them together. In two hours I depart in the 
 diligence for Geneva, and shall travel several days and nights, 
 without intermission but for the usual meals. Adieu, then ! my 
 heart beats tumultuously for all, who have been so kind to me, 
 and I try to articulate — Farewell ! 
 
 *' But wherefore could not I pronounce Farewell ? 
 I had most cause to bless them, and yet Farewell 
 Stuck in my throat." 
 
 Paris exists to me now only in the memory. That city of the 
 world, and all that it contains to captivate the antiquarian, or 
 
FAREWELL. 331 
 
 philanthropist, the man of letters or of taste, has vanished, for 
 aught I know, into some such stuff as dreams, or the bodiless 
 spirits of the air, are made of. But the acquisitions I have made, 
 and the pleasures I have enjoyed, I cannot be deprived of — they 
 are yet mine. How great these are, it does not become me to 
 assert; but it will not be deemed assuming to observe, that few 
 days passed away, when nothing new or curious was seen. No 
 grand celebrity scarcely has been omitted, of which I am aware, 
 except the catacombs, and the tomb of Napoleon, now in the 
 process of erection. The reasons assigned for refusing the admis- 
 sion of the pubhc to the former, are various ; the principal of 
 which are, that their lives would be at hazard from a possible 
 downfall of tlffe roof ; and also, that gunpowder might be intro- 
 duced underneath the city, and jeopard its safety, if not existence. 
 Yet, though the pen may describe these wonders with more or 
 less of vividness, it is a personal inspection only, which can set 
 the living attributes of reality before you. Our country is so 
 wanting in those things, of which Paris is so abundantly produc- 
 tive, that a narrator is seriously embarrassed to find objects of 
 comparison. 
 
 Paris is left behind, and the friends I made there can never 
 more be seen by me ; but while 1 live, their sensitive hearts, their 
 sweet and fascinating manners, and their tears so freely shed at 
 parting, will be nursed like tropic flowers in my warm memory, 
 flinging their bright colors and perfume over many a wintry day, 
 that will doubtless overtake me. In a world of perpetual change, 
 absence, like death, will embalm these summer friendships, and 
 preserve them forevermore the same. My worthy hostess, good 
 soul, with a kindly disposition, but wayward as the wind, was 
 at the starting place to see me oflf. She brought with her a bou- 
 quet, composed of a rose bud surrounded by forget-me-nots — her 
 own gift ; and another from her neighbor, which was a bunch of 
 pensez-a-moi with a simple rose bud in the centre, enveloped in 
 green leaves. I had also in my pocket a pretty purse, the handi- 
 work of a dear friend given me just before I left my lodgings, as 
 a ffac/e d'amitie with a note accompanying it. Should modesty 
 prevent my showing it to you, as a characteristic specimen of 
 
332 OLD WINE IN NEW BOTTLES. 
 
 the taste these graceful creatures throw around every act of hfe ? 
 I think not. And so, premising the very flattering fact, that the 
 less the truth, the greater the compliment, here it follows verba- 
 tim: — 
 
 *' Souvenir de I'inter^t, que Mons. A. K. G. a su inspirer en France aux 
 
 personnes, qui ont eu le plaieir de le connaitre. Anais D ." 
 
 le 17 Juin, 45. 
 
 We kissed one another a la Frangaise — on both cheeks, and be- 
 tween — in the court yard ; and a tall, robust cavalry officer from 
 Sardinia went through a similar evolution with a grenadier of 
 Paris. The clock struck twelve — the conducteur gave breath to 
 his horn — the postilion cracked his whip — the horses bounded 
 
 forward — the Barriere de la Gare was passed, and we were 
 
 hors de Paris. 
 
BOOKS 
 
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 Consisting of his Poems and Orations. 
 
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 with the admiration of the best critics." 
 
 In two vols. 12mo, elotk. 
 
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 SCENES IN JUDEA. 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR OF ZENOBIA, OR LETTERS FROM PALMYRA, 
 AND PBOBUS, OR LETTERS FROM ROME. 
 These works, Zknobia, Pkobcs, and Julian, for beauty of style, 
 classical taste, and interest of narrative, may challenge comparison with 
 any works in the English language. 
 
 In one vol. 127/i<7. — For Students. 
 A NEW LITERAL TRANSLATION OP 
 
 LONGINUS ON THE SUBLIME. 
 
 BY A GRADUATE OP TRINITY COLLEGE, DUBLIN. 
 
PUBLISHED BY C. S. FRANCIS AND CO., NEW-YORK. 
 
 THE THOUSAND AND ONE NIGHTS; OR, 
 
 THE ARABIAN NIGHTS' ENTERTAINMENTS. Translated 
 by Rev. Edward Forster. With an Explanatory and Histo- 
 rical Introduction, by G. M. Busset. Carefully revised and cor- 
 rected, with some additions, amendments, and illustrative notes, 
 from the work of E. W. Lane. Illustrated with Twenty large 
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 Wood Cuts. In three volumes. 
 
 Contents* 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 THE SULTAN OP THE INDIES, THE SUL- 
 TANESS SHEHRAZADB and HER SIS- 
 TER DINARZADE. 
 
 THE OX, THE ASS, AND THE LABORER. 
 
 THE MERCHANT AND THE GENIE. 
 
 THE FIRST OLD MAN AND THE GAZELLE. 
 
 THE SECOND OLD MAN AND THE TWO 
 BLACK DOGS. 
 
 THE THIRD OLD MAN AND THE MULB. 
 
 THE FISHERMAN AND THE GENIE. 
 
 THE GREEK KING AND DODBAN THE 
 PHYSICIAN. 
 
 THE HUSBAND AND THE PARROT. 
 
 THE VIZIKR WHO WAS PUNISHED. 
 
 THE YOUNG KING OF THE BLACK ISLES. 
 
 GANEM, THE SLAVE OF LOVE. 
 
 THE ENCHANTED HORSB. 
 
 THE PORTER, AND THE THREE LADIES 
 
 OF BAGDAD. 
 THE FIRST ROYAL CALENDER. 
 THE SECOND ROYAL CALENDER. 
 THE ENVIOUS MAN AND THE ENVIBD. 
 THE THIRD ROYAL CALENDER. 
 STORY OF ZOBEIDE. 
 STORY OF AMINA. 
 NOUREDDIN AND ENIS BLJELIS, THB 
 
 BEAUTIFUL PERSIAN. 
 THE THREE APPLES. 
 THE LADY WHO WAS MURDERED. 
 NOUREDDIN AND HIS SON, AND SHEM- 
 
 SEDDIN AND HIS DAUGHTER; BED- 
 
 REDDIN HASSAN AND THE Q,UBBI1 
 
 OF BEAUTY. 
 
 THE LITTLE HUMPBACK. 
 
 THE CHRISTIAN MERCHANT'S STORY. 
 
 STORY OF THE SULTAN'S PURVEYOR. 
 
 STORY OF THE JEWISH PHYSICIAN. 
 
 STORY TOLD BY THE TAILOR. 
 
 STORY OF THE BARBER. 
 
 THE barber's FIRST BROTHER. 
 
 THE barber's second BROTHER. 
 
 THE barber's third BROTHER. 
 
 THE barber's FOURTH BROTHER. 
 
 THE barber's fifth BROTHER. 
 THE barber's SIXTH BROTHER. 
 CAMARALZAMAN AND BADOURA. 
 PRINCE AMGIAD AND PRINCE ASSAD. 
 THE SEVEN VOYAGES OF SINDBAO THm 
 
 SAILOR. 
 PRINCE AHMED AND THB FAIRT PARI- 
 
 BANOU. 
 ABOU HASSAN, THB WAG. 
 ALI COGIA, THB MERCHANT OF BAGDAD. 
 
 ALI EBN BECAR AND iHEMSELNlHAR. 
 ALADDIN, OR THE WONDERFUL LAMP. 
 ADVENTURES OF HAROUN ALRASHID. 
 BABA ABDALLAH. 
 SIDI NOUMAN. 
 COGIA HASSAN ALHABBAL. 
 PRINCESS GULNARE OF THE SEA. 
 KING BEDER BASIM AND THE PRINCESS 
 GIOHARA. 
 
 ALI BABA AND THB FORTY ROBBERS. 
 PRINCE ZEYN ALASNAM AND THB KINO 
 
 OF THE GENII. 
 PRINCE CODADAD AND HIS BROTHBRS. 
 THE PRINCESS OF DERYABAR. 
 THE THREE SISTERS. 
 PRINCESS PERIZADB AND HER BRO 
 
 THERS. 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 " A beautiful American reprint of a book which furnishes, perhaps, as mnch of the 
 'stuff that dreams are made of,' as any other that we could mention. This has long 
 been needed and wished for, and the book produced is just what was wanted. Paper 
 and print unexceptionable ; illustrations graceful and suggestive, and price extreme- 
 ly moderate ; nothing mars the pleasure of possessing a work without which not 
 only no library, but no youthful imagination, can be considered thoroughly fur- 
 nished.'' — Union Mag. 
 
 " The republication of these fascinating stories, in so good and cheap a form, will 
 be very acceptable to the community. No good American edition, to our knowledge, 
 has as yet been published, and it has been difficult to find it, except in the very ex- 
 pensive illustrated French or English editions "—Boston Daily Adv. 
 
PUBLISHED BY C. S. FRANCIS AND CO., NEW- YORK. 
 
 THE BOOK OP ENTERTAINMENT,— OF CU- 
 
 RIOSITIES AND WONDERS IN NATURE, ART AND MIND ; 
 Drawn from the most authentic sources, and carefully revised. 
 
 Forming a thick volume of nearly one thousand pages. Illustra- 
 ted by more than one hundred Engravings. 
 
 A PORTION OF THE CONTENTS. 
 
 Part I — Thebes, its origin and rise, 
 extent and internal arrangement, hun- 
 dred gates; its splendor, decline and 
 ruin, &c. Manners and Customs of the 
 Irish peasantry. Abstinence. Affec- 
 tion. Agricultural operations. Useful 
 Arts described. Histoi'y of the Battle 
 of Cressy ; of China and its customs ; 
 of the Falls of Niagara; French Gyp- 
 sies ; Hindoo Pilgrims ; Leaning Tower 
 of Saragossa ; Lion of Africa ; Beaver 
 Hat manufacture ; Usefulness of Birds ; 
 Causes of the Earth's fertility; Crops, 
 their preservation, &c Experimental 
 Science ; Feats of strength , Fortitude 
 of Women; City of Mexico, its great 
 temple, idolatry of the people, magnifi- 
 cence of the King, besieged by the Span- 
 iards, mode of writing. &c. Voyage on 
 the Mississippi. New-Castle Coal 
 Trade, &c., &c. 
 
 Part IT. — An account of the City of 
 Venice, giving a history of its origin, 
 rise, greatness, and decline, with a des- 
 cription of the interior of the city, and 
 the most remarkable public and private 
 buildings. Excursion in Arabia. Ca- 
 thedrals of Auxere and of KirkwaU. 
 Cordova, in Spain. Elephants, and the 
 manner of catching them. Blackbirds. 
 
 Errors and superstitions. Coroborea 
 Dance. Gizzard in birds. History and 
 description of Kirkwall. Man over- 
 board. Mines of Great Britain. Mer- 
 maid. Voice in man and animal. Pas- 
 senger Pigeon of America. Account of 
 oysters, muscles, and cockles. Greek 
 islands. Useful arts — the ox and cow ; 
 milk and butter; making cheese. Ac- 
 count of the sheep, goat, and hog. Wan- 
 derings in the American forests, &o., &c. 
 
 Part III. — Account of Madrid; its 
 capture by Napoleon, situation, and 
 form. Palaces and Churches. Prado, 
 and streets, &c. The Main-Truck, or 
 leap for life. Lady Harriet Ackland, 
 and her sufferings. Animals used aa 
 food. Eugene Aram. Aromatic Vine- 
 gar. Savings Banks. History of Bees. 
 Chinese duck-boats. Method of pre- 
 paring Coffee, Chocolate, &c. City of 
 Cologne. Different Dispositions. Re- 
 marks on Cooking. Egyptian mode of 
 hatching eggs. Female Excellence : a 
 tale of real life. Moscow, and its 
 Churches. Mode of preserving Insects. 
 Account of the Coast of Ireland. Rat- 
 ishon. St. Robert's Chapel and Cave. 
 Cathedral of Winchester; of Durham; 
 Colchester, &c. &c. 
 
 AMONO THE ENGRAVINGS ARE THE FOLLOWING i 
 
 City of Muscat. 
 Western Steamer. 
 Breaking Stone on a Man's 
 
 Chest. 
 African Lion. 
 Manufacture of a Hat. 
 Eltham Palace. 
 Norris Castle. 
 Agricultural Instruments. 
 Rocking Stone. 
 Mississippi Overflowing. 
 Gypsies. 
 
 Mexican Paintings. 
 Russian Travelling. 
 Hieroglyphics. 
 Windmill. 
 Plains of Cressy. 
 Ruins of Karnao. 
 Bridge of Sighs. 
 
 Roman Coins. 
 
 Shells. 
 
 Launceston Castle. 
 
 Mowing. 
 
 Reaping. 
 
 Inclined Plane. 
 
 Mushrooms. 
 
 Churns. 
 
 Cheese-Presa. 
 
 Sir Francis Bacon. 
 
 Stones of Stenis. 
 
 Stornaway. 
 
 Stromness. 
 
 Catching Elephants. 
 
 The Ceylon Elephant. 
 
 Views of New Soath 
 
 Wales. 
 Mermaids- 
 Women of Scio. 
 
 Wild Pigeons. 
 
 Snowdon. 
 
 Fairhead. 
 
 Ducal Palace, Venice. 
 
 Colonnade, Venice. 
 
 Palace of the EsouriaL 
 
 Coffee Tree. 
 
 Dropping Well. 
 
 Water Clocks. 
 
 Snake Charmers. 
 
 James Crichton. 
 
 Pearl Fishery. 
 
 Palace at Madrid. 
 
 Church of St. Basil, Mos- 
 cow. 
 
 Natives of New South 
 Wales. 
 
 Rocks of Ragherrj. 
 &o., &c., &o. 
 
 " Made up from all sources, describing whatever is most wonderful and worthy 
 of admiration in the world, it cannot fail to prove highly attractive, especially to 
 the young, for whom, of course, it was mainly intended, though all persons will find 
 in it much matter of decided interest." — Journal, 
 
PUBLISHED BY C. S. FRANCIS AND CO., NEW-YORK. 
 
 THE BOOK OF ENTERTAINMENT,— OF Cu- 
 riosities AND WONDERS IN NATURE, ART AND MIND. 
 Drawn from the most authentic sources, and carefully revised. 
 
 Seconlr Series* 
 
 Another volume, of nearly a thousand pages, illustrated by more 
 than one hundred engravings. 
 
 A PORTION OF THE CONTENTS. 
 
 Part /.—Natural and CiTil History of 
 Ceylon; the Natives; Boodhism; Trial by 
 Jury,&c. Sugar maple. Coyerings of An- 
 imals. History of the Arch. Arabia and 
 Mocha. Attar of Roses. Fall of Baby- 
 lon. Instinct of Birds. The Hermit of 
 Switzerland. Cathedrals of Caen and 
 Saragossa. Colombo in Ceylon. Debt 
 and Misery. Division of Labor. Con- 
 vent at Saragossa. Female Fortitude. 
 Festival of the Bairam. Mode of meas- 
 uring heights. Manufacture of Pottery. 
 Manners and Customs of the Turks. 
 Mexico, account of the modem city, its 
 streets, churches, police, population. See. 
 Hotbeds, Hothouses, Conservatories, &c. 
 Woman, the solace of man. Robert 
 Raikes. Poisonous Plants, &c. 
 
 Part II. — Cemeteries and Burial in 
 Turkey. Information concerning Barley, 
 Bread, Vermicelli, Brewing, Charcoal 
 Coal and Coal Mines. Anger and Mad- 
 ness. Account of Benares, Basle, High- 
 lands and Islands of Scotland, Owhyhee, 
 and its Volcano, Liege, Londonderry and 
 its famous Siege, Luxor aud its Ruins, 
 Malvern Hills, Thebes and its Ruins, 
 Karnak and its Temples, Society Isl- 
 ands, &c. Anecdotes and Tales of Bona- 
 parte, Addison, Burke, Bishop Hall, Jen- 
 
 ner, Irving, Johnson, Lavater, Locke, 
 Mungo Park, Wilberforce, kc. Old Cas- 
 tles, viz: Dunvegan, Ennandowan, 
 Shirbourn, Sec. Dialogue between a 
 Clergyman and Deist. Druidical Re- 
 mains. Old Cathedrals, Ely, St. David's, 
 &c. Clock at Rouen. Druidical Crom- 
 lechs. Wild Beasts, Rhinoceros, Ele- 
 phant, Lemming, &c. Gypsies. History 
 of Writing. Natives of Swan River. 
 Skating Soldiers of Norway. Sec. Sec. 
 
 Part III. — Account of the City of 
 Brussels, its history, situation, and cli- 
 mate, streets, squares, parks, palaces, 
 public buildings, manufactures, &c., with 
 a description of the Battle of Waterloo. 
 Agriculture and Gardening in Japan. 
 Allahabad in India. Description of Do- 
 mesticated Birds; the common fowl; 
 the Turkey and Guinea Hen ; the Goose 
 and Duck; the Pigeon. Early Rising. 
 Deaths of eminent persons Forest Trees. 
 Greek Islands, Chios, or Scio. Harvest 
 in Nassau. Hog Hunting in the East 
 Indies. Culture and Manufacture of 
 Indigo. Instances of insect sagacity. 
 Experiments concerning Jugglers. Stu- 
 dy of Material Nature. Self-taught 
 Mathematician. Great Square in the 
 City of Munich. &c. &c. Sec. 
 
 AMONG THE ENGRAVINGS ABE THE FOLLOWING ; 
 
 Church of N. S. de Gua- 
 dalupe, Mexico. 
 
 View of Mocha. 
 
 Natives of Ceylon. 
 
 View of Colombo, Ceylon, 
 
 Measuring Heights and 
 Distances. 
 
 Different Cider Mills. 
 
 Potters at Work. 
 
 Festival of the Bairam. 
 
 Street in Rouen. 
 
 Harbor of Havre. 
 
 Turkish Funeral. 
 
 Etruscan Vases. 
 
 Charcoal Burning. 
 
 iSkating Soldiers of Nor- 
 way. 
 
 Ruins of the Memnonium. 
 
 The Lemming. 
 
 Colossal Statues at Thebes. 
 
 The Druid Stone. 
 Dunvegan Castle. 
 Orders of Architecture. 
 Bridge of Saragossa. 
 City of Mexico. 
 Cathedral in Mexico. 
 Mexican Water Carrier. 
 Pulque Plant. 
 Coining Press. 
 Shawl Goat. 
 Indian Corn. 
 Fort at Allahabad, E. L 
 Hop Picking. 
 Nimbus, from Teniera. 
 Abbey of St. Stephen. 
 Volcanoes in Owhyhee. 
 Shirbourn Castle. 
 Ruins at St. David's. 
 Ennandowan Castle. 
 
 Colonnade at Luxor. 
 Rhinoceros and Elephants. 
 Egyptian Vases. 
 Domestic Fowls. 
 Hog Hunting. 
 Place- Royale, Brussels. 
 Botanic Garden, Brussels 
 Indigo Works in S. Amer. 
 Diamond Cut. and Polish. 
 Carlisle Castle. 
 Town Hall at Bolougne. 
 Barnacles. 
 Crystals of Snow. 
 The Sumach. 
 Crossbows and Arrows. 
 Night Scene in N. S. W. 
 Dunlnce Castle. 
 Throwing the Lasso. 
 Modifications of Clouds. 
 &c. &c. &c. 
 
 Ruins at Medeenet-Habou. 
 ** The contents of this very thick volume, which contains a great amount of read- 
 ing, are both instructive and entertaining. It is admirably adapted to improve the 
 mind, and to give the readers, especially the young, a taste for useful information, 
 and an inducement io the further pursuit of practical knowledge." 
 
PUBLISHED BY C. S. FRANCIS <k CO., NEW-YORK. 
 
 THOUGHTS ON THE POETS 
 
 By Henry T. Tuckekman, Author of " Artist Life," etc. 
 
 Being Essays on the Lives, Characters, and Writings of the following 
 
 PETRARCH, 
 
 COLLINS, 
 
 THOMSON 
 
 CRABBE, 
 
 BYRON, 
 
 BUKNS, 
 
 COLERIDGE 
 
 REMANS, 
 
 DRAKE, 
 
 GOLDSMITH, 
 
 POPE, 
 
 YOUNG, 
 
 SHELLY 
 
 MOORE, 
 
 CAMPBELL, 
 
 KEATS, 
 
 TENNYSON, 
 
 BRYANT, 
 
 GRAY, 
 
 COOPER, 
 
 ALEIERI, 
 
 HUNT, 
 
 ROGERS, 
 
 WORDSWORTH, 
 
 BARRY CORNWALL, 
 
 BARRETT, 
 
 This vohime does credit to the critical taste and imaginative faculties of the 
 author, who passes in review the works of between twenty and thirty of our more 
 modern poets, quotes them, points out theii beauties, and estimates their qualities in 
 an enthusiastic spirit, congenial to his subjects, and yet not so unchecked as to lead 
 him into indiscriininating admiration. He displays ta.-te and judgment, in fact, as 
 well as fancy a. d feeling ; and th{!rgh verging toward praise, is not blind to the 
 claims of ci'iticism ; and is it not better, as well as more just, t > be somewhat gentle 
 in your visitings, and rather lavish than otherwise of encomium and encourage- 
 ment, than to suppose that the critic's true office consists in detd ting microscofic 
 blemishes, magnifying them.aud parading your superior talent in ill-natured carp- 
 ing and dogmatic abuse '( Be assured that censure is not only the easiest, but the 
 worst siiccies of inquisition : any fool can find faults, but it requires a competent 
 person to point out merits, and institute faithful comparisons. In performing his 
 pieasing task, Mr. Tuckerman has shown that he possessed this power; and he has 
 made a volume of a very agreeable nature, studded with poetical quotations, in sup- 
 port of his opinions. — Loiiduji Literury Gazette. 
 
 Almost any man's true, unaffected, living thoughts on the poets, whose verse 
 makes part of our mental substance, could hardly fail to be acceptable. We all 
 love to talk about our friends, and to hear others talk about them, in the right 
 fiiiirit But Mr. Tuckennan's talk is as if we heard from a fine genial soul, who had 
 aoen our friend since we had seen him ; and knew him and loved hin^ qinte as well 
 as ourselves ; minute and discriminating accounts of his excellence — made exfra- 
 pi luant by personal aneolotes, and reminiscences of amusing and pathetic passages 
 in his history.— Mirror. 
 
 Mr. Tuckerman is one of our esi-ecial favorites. There is a grace, delicacy, and 
 earnestness about his writings, which we admire and love; while his candor, his 
 warm ap) reciation of the merits of others, and his critical ni--(:ty (f discrimination 
 in literary matters, constitute him, in our opinion, one of the best guides to those 
 who, not lieing able to give much time to study, ai-e yet desirous of cultivating a 
 taste for elegiint letters. — New York Gazette. 
 
 This volume does great credit to Mr. Ttickerman as a writer and critic. No work 
 has appeared from an American source, within our memory, so thoroughly imbued 
 with the belles-lettres spirit, as this. It is the result of much patient thinking on 
 the most attractive of all subjects, and is ad)inrably calculated as a guide tc) a large 
 class of (he reading public, wh i have the means auJ the time to gratify literary 
 tastes, but are ignorant of the relative rank and importance of the ditferent English 
 poets, and of the best method of reading them to adv,uitage. . This volume is 
 
 well calculated to convey knowledge as well as oidnious. We cordiaiiy recommend 
 it to the lovers of poetry. — Boston Courier. 
 
PUBLISHED BY C. S. FRANCIS & CO., NEW-YORK. 
 
 ritinfis of ©rbille ©etoes* 
 
 DISCOURSES ON HUMAN NATURE, 
 
 Human Life, and the Nature of Religion. By Orville Dewey, 
 D D., Pastor of the Church of the Messiah, in New- York. 
 
 As the fonner volume is chiefly con- 
 troversial, and is an admirable exposi- 
 tion of the religious opinions of Unita- 
 rians, and of the general principles and 
 modes of reasoning by which they are 
 enstained, so this is almost exclusively 
 practical, and affords an. exhibition of 
 the spiritual results of those vi«ws, of 
 the modes in which the religious life 
 and character are conceived of, presented 
 and urged by Unitarian preachers. — 
 While both volumes, therefore, are ex- 
 cellent books to put into the hands of 
 those who would learn something of 
 what Unitarianism is, and what are its 
 practical tendencies and results, they 
 are yet more valuable to instruct and 
 establish the minds of those of our own 
 body who would have "a reason" for 
 the faith that is in them, the faith in 
 which they have been educated, and to 
 quicken and direct their efforts to attain 
 the Christian character, the true spirit- 
 ual life. In rich, deep, noble thought, 
 in apt and forcible illustration, in im- 
 pressive appeals, in an earnest, manly 
 eloquence, in a living spirit and power, — 
 power to convince the reason, to sway the 
 affections, to move the conscience, gui- 
 ding while it quickens its action, to 
 wake up all the slumbering energies of 
 the soul, make it feel its responsibleness, 
 make it feel that religion is a reality, the 
 great, solemn, and blessed reality of its 
 
 being, — in all these respects we are wil- 
 ling to compare the twenty four sermons 
 of this volume with any similar volume 
 given to the world from any other de- 
 nomination of Christians. — Christian 
 Examiner. 
 
 These Discourses abound in the pur- 
 est and most exalted precepts, beautiful- 
 ly adapted to almost every condition ot 
 life, and replete with instruction, such 
 as becomes the mini-ter who himself 
 feels that the religion he preaches is 
 divine. We may venture to say that no 
 reader, whatever may be the form of his 
 creed, can rise from a serious perusal of 
 this Work without feeling his faith 
 strengthened, his charity enlarged, and 
 bis reverence f 'r the Christian religion, 
 and for all holy things, increased by the 
 exalted and ennobling views in which 
 they are here set forth. — National In- 
 t^Uigencer. 
 
 Dr Dewey has been characterized as a 
 preacher for clergymen ; and we would 
 that numbers of them could sit as learn- 
 ers at his feet We earnestly hope that 
 multitudes who have never enjoyed the 
 advantage of hearing his expositions of 
 the Christian life fr 'm his own lips, will 
 embrace the opportunity afforded by this 
 new edition of his w'.>rks, to ascertain for 
 themselves "what manner of man he is," 
 in this his great ofi&ce. — Christ. Inq. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 On Human Nature. — I., IT. On Human Nature. III. On the Wrong which 
 Sin does to Human Nature. IV. On the Adaptation which Religion, to be true 
 and useful, should have to Human Nature. V. The Appeal of Religion to Hu- 
 man Nature. VI. The Call of Humanity and the Answer to it. VII. Human 
 Nature considered as a ground for Thanksgiving. 
 
 On Human Life. — VIII. The Moral Significance of Life. IX That Every 
 thing in Life is IVIoral. X. Life Con.<>idered as an argument for Faith and Virtue. 
 XI. Life is what we make it. XII. Inequality in the Lot of Life XIII. The Mis- 
 cries of Life. XIV. The School of Life. XV. The Value of Life. XVI. Life's 
 Consolation in View of Death. XVII. The Problem of Life, Resolved in the Life 
 of Christ. XVIII. Religion the Great Sentiment of Life. XIX. The Religion of 
 Life. XX. The Voices of the Dead. 
 
 On Vie' Nature of Religion.— XXl., XXII., XXIII. The Identity of Religion 
 with Goodness, and with a Good Life. XXIV Spiritual Interests, Real and Su- 
 preme 
 
PUBLISHED BY C. S. FRANCIS AND CO., NEW-YORK. 
 
 ritCnfis of ©rbille Jietoes* 
 
 DISCOURSES AND REVIEWS. 
 
 Upon Questi(tns in Controversial Theology and Practical Reli- 
 gion By Orville Dewey, D.D., Pastor of the Church of 
 the Messiah, in New-York. 
 
 CONTENTS: 
 THE UNITARIAN BELIEF :— 
 
 On the Nature of Religious Belief; with Inferences concerning 
 Doubt, Decision, Confidence, and the Trial of Faith. 
 
 CURSORY OBSERVATIONS ON THE QUESTIONS AT ISSUE BETWEEN 
 ORTHODOX AND LIBERAL CHRISTIANS, 
 
 I, On the Trinity. II. On the Atonement. III. On the Five 
 Points of Calvinism. IV. On Future Punishment. V, Con- 
 clusion ; the modes of attack upon Liberal Christianity, the 
 same that were used against the Doctrine of the Apostles and 
 Reformers. 
 
 THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION WITH OTHER SUBJECTS CONSIDERED. 
 DISCOURSES AND REVIEWS :— 
 
 L The Analogy of Religion. IT. On Conversion. III. On the 
 method of obtaining and exhibiting Religious and Virtuous 
 affections. IV. Causes of indifference and aversion to Reli- 
 gion. 
 
 On the original use of the Epistles of the New Testament, 
 compared wit:) their use and application at the present day. 
 
 On Miracles. 
 
 The Scriptures considered as the Record of a Revelation. 
 
 On the Nature and Extent of Inspiration. 
 
 On Faith, and Justification by Faith. 
 
 That Errors in Theology have sprung from false principles 
 of Reasoning. 
 
 On the Calvinistic Views of Moral Philosophy. 
 
 It is the highest pleasure to meet touched and moved by him as by no 
 
 with a volume so replete with earnest other preacher now living to whom it 
 
 thought, tempered with the kindest has been our privilege to listen. We 
 
 charity. Besides the intellectual plea- need not commwud this volume; and 
 
 sure of studying the works of an essay- yet, as we have been reading it, we 
 
 ist so accomplished and eloquent as Dr. could not help wishing, that its spirit, 
 
 Dewey, the reader enjoys the greater at least, of reverence and charity, 
 
 satisfaction of considering the highest might find a place in every heiirt ; 
 
 religious i)rinciples and problems with that those, who are not convinced by 
 
 a writer who looks at them with the siiu- its reasoning, might yet be profited by 
 
 plicity and dignity of study which they its teachings, and go from its pages 
 
 deserve. — Boston Daily Advertiser. better, and, therefore, wiser men. — 
 
 The profound learning, cultivated Christian Register. 
 taste, and eminent ability of Dr. Dewey, We rejoice whenever a competent 
 give an interest to this work that will writer feels moved again and again to 
 secure a large class of readers without discuss subjects involving the best in- 
 the circle of his own religious denomi- tertots of humanity. Such we con- 
 nation. — Jouriiul of Commerce. ceive to be the topics in the present 
 
 There is no living writer to whom we volume, and which Dr Dewey has in- 
 
 feel ourselves under greater obligations nested with fresh beauty and interest 
 
 than to Dr. Dewey. We hav© been —Christian World. 
 
PUBLISHED BY C. S. FRANCIS & CO., NEW-YORK. 
 
 ^BxitinQB of ©rbillc JDetoej?. 
 
 DISCOURSES 
 
 On the Nature of Religion; and on Commerce and Business; with 
 some Occasional Discourses. By Orville Dewey, D.D., Pastor 
 of the Church of the Messiah in New-York. 
 
 We know not where to point to a series 
 of moral and religious writings superior 
 in compass and power to those contained 
 in these three volumes of Dr. Dewey's 
 works. A happy unity connects all the 
 constituent parts. The principles, so 
 clearly stated in one volume, are carried 
 out to their practical results in the dis- 
 courses and orations that fill the ()ther 
 two. If we were to state the pec^iliar 
 charm of Dr Dewey's style, we should 
 say that it lies in the remarkable combi- 
 nation of colloquial ease with depth of 
 thought, and frequent pathos and solem- 
 nity. 
 
 This volume presents specimens of 
 three departments of composition, — ser- 
 mons upon personal religion, discour,ses 
 upon business morality, and addresses 
 on various literary and ethical topics. 
 No respectable American library can be 
 without Dr. Dewey's volumes. Where- 
 ever his views are peculiarly his own, 
 they are stated with a force and candour 
 that must win the respect alike of theo- 
 logian and reformer. — Christian Exam. 
 
 This volume contains a selection of the 
 ablest discourses of this eloquent preach- 
 er, on his views of the nature of religion, 
 and relating to the common events and 
 duties of civil and political life. They 
 
 strike the reader as remarkably sensi- 
 ble, clear, unpretending, and often thril- 
 lingly eloquent . . . The earnest truths 
 which he utters in behalf of honesty, 
 justice, mercy and humanity, we could 
 wish to be read by every one, and by 
 none more thoughtfully than by ortho-^ 
 dox Christians. — N. Y. Evangelist. 
 
 Dr. Dewey is one of the most eminent 
 divines, of the Unitarian faith, in this 
 country ; while, as an eloquent and for- 
 cible writer, he has few superiors in the 
 whole range of the clerical profession. — 
 Tiibu?ie. 
 
 We have never before been so deliber- 
 ate in reading a book of sermons, as this 
 one. It is well printed, and well bound, 
 and has altogether a very taking appear- 
 ance. The most substantial reason, 
 hc'.vever, for our interest in the work, is 
 its general intrinsic excellence. There 
 are, to be sure, opinions and views, ex- 
 pressed and insisted upon, which are at 
 variance with our own ; but which we 
 can more than tolerate because they 
 seem to be part and parcel of the moral 
 and intellectual stamina of the writer ; 
 and which, therefore, we believe him to 
 be perfectly conscientious in support- 
 ing. — Christian World. 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 On the Nature of Religion.— I. Spiritual Interests, Real and Supreme. II., III. 
 On Religious Sensibility. IV., V. The I,aw of Retribntion. VI. Compassion for 
 the Sinful. VII. God's Love; the chief Restraint from Sin, and Resource in Sor- 
 row. VIII. The Difference between Sentiments and Principles. IX. The Crown 
 of Virtue. 
 
 On Commerce and Business. — X. The Moral Law of Contracts. XL The Mo- 
 ral End of Business. XII. The Uses of Labour, and the Passion for a Fortune, 
 XIII. The Moral Limits of Accumulation. 
 
 Miscellaneous and Occasional. — XIV. Oration before the Society of Phi Beta 
 Kapi)a. at Cambridge. XV. The Arts of Industry, with their Moral and Intellec- 
 tual Influence upon Society. — An Address before the American Institute. XVI, 
 The Identity of all Art.— A Lecture before the Apollo Association of New- York. 
 XVII The Moral Character of Government XVIII The Slavery Question- XIX. 
 Public Calamities. 
 
PUBLISHED BY C. S. FRANCIS AND CO., NEW-YORK. 
 
 Cabinet iCibrarg of dholce JJroae anb |)octr2. 
 
 X. 
 
 THE EPICUREAN : A Tale. By Thomas Moore. 
 
 "A romance of antiquity, and one of the most exquisite of its class. A 
 choice volume, that may be read with relish in our most languid moods and 
 moments." — S. Patriot. 
 
 XI. XII. 
 
 ZENOBIA ; or the Fall of Palmyra. A Histo- 
 rical Romance. By William Waue. 2 vols. 
 
 " An ancient classic, from the pen of a modern -writer. A fine specimen of 
 that form of moral romance, of which the samples are few." — S. Patriot. 
 "One of the most brilliant additions to American literature." — 
 
 N. A. Review. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF MADAME DE STAEL AND OF 
 
 MADAME ROLAND. By L. Maria Child. A new edition, 
 revised and enlarged. 
 
 " In a gallery of celebrated women, the first place unquestionably belongs 
 to Anne Maria Louise Germaine Necker, Baroness de Stael Holstein." 
 
 XIV. 
 
 WRITINGS OF CHARLES SPRAGUE. Consist- 
 
 ing of his Poems and Orations. 
 
 " Mr. Sprague's poetry is of the highest order, and erery piece has been 
 stamped with the admiration of the best critics." 
 
 Ulorks of ®rt)Ule SDm^s, ©. 5D. 
 
 A new edition, carefully revised by the Author ; containing most 
 of the Sermons and Essays that have before been published, to- 
 gether with some not before printed ; also, Reviews and Occasional 
 Discourses. 3 vols. $1 each. 
 
 I.— DISCOURSES ON HUMAN NATURE,— HU- 
 MAN LIFE, AND THE NATURE OF RELIGION. 
 
 n.— DISCOURSES, REVIEWS, AND MISCEL- 
 LANIES. 
 
 m.— DISCOURSES AND REVIEWS UPON 
 
 QUESTIONS IN CONTROVERSIAL THEOLOGY AND PRAC- 
 TICAL RELIGION. 
 
PUBLISHED BY C. S. FRANCIS AND CO., NEW-YORK. 
 
 dlablnet Cibrarg of (EljoUe JProse anb Poctrg. 
 
 I. IT. 
 
 HISTORY OF THE CONDITION OF WOMEN, 
 
 IN VARIOUS Ages and Nations. By L. Maria Child. 
 
 "A most attractive subject, treated by a very deli;:litful writer; so treated 
 that the reader is instructed as well as pleased." — Commercial Advertiser. 
 "A work that should find a place in every t'auiily library." — Mer. Mag. 
 
 III. 
 
 THE DREAM, AND OTHER POEMS. By Hon. 
 
 Mrs. Norton. 
 
 "This Lady is the Byron of our modern Poetesses. * * * The Dream is a 
 very bcautil'ui Poem " — Quarterly Review. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE CHILD OF THE ISLANDS. By the same. 
 
 "This is poetry, true poetry — the genuine product of a cultivated mind, a 
 rich fancy, and a warm, well-regulated heart." — Edinburg Review. 
 
 V. 
 
 MEMOIRS OF FELICIA HEMANS. By her 
 
 Sister. With an Essay on her Genius : by Mrs. Sigourney 
 "These Memoirs, from a sister's hand, with their authenticity', combine all 
 
 those attractive graces of style and language peculiar to the tracings of a 
 
 female pen." — Albany Journal. 
 "Prefaced by a beautiful Essay oi, the Genius of Mrs Hemans, from the 
 
 pen of Mrs. Sigourney." — Com. Advertiser. 
 
 VI. 
 
 TRAGEDIES, SONNETS AND VERSES. By T. 
 
 Noon Talfourd. 
 
 The only complete American edition of Talfourd's poetry. 
 "A most acceptable addition to the truly choice reading of the day." — 
 
 Knickerbocker, 
 VU. 
 
 LALLA ROOKH. By Thomas Moore. 
 
 a new edition, thoroughly revised by the author, and enriched by addi 
 tioual notes, and a preface giving its literary history. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 BIOGRAPHIES OF GOOD WIVES. By L. Maria 
 
 Child. 
 
 " This book is worth a quarter at a boarding school to any young lady." — 
 
 Tribune. 
 "AH that are, and all that hope — expect — to be on the list of married 
 ladies, would do well to read this work." — Com. Adv. 
 
 IX. 
 
 THOUGHTS ON THE POETS. By H. T. Tuck 
 
 ERMAN. 
 
 " No work has appeared from an American source, within our memory, so 
 thoroughly imbued with u belles lettres spirit as this." — Boston Courier 
 
 "No book more worthy of a permanent place in the standard literature ol 
 the country has yet been produt:ed by an American." — TV. Jf. Gazette 
 
PUBLISHED By C. S. FRANCIS AND CO. NEW YORK. 
 
 f^rs. Norton's ^pocms. 
 
 THE DREAM AND OTHER POEMS: 
 
 BY THE HON, MRS. NORTON. 
 
 "This lady is the Byron of our modern poetesses. She has very much of that i» 
 tonse persoual passion by which Byron's poetry is distinguished from the large, 
 grasp aud deeper communion of Words .vorth. She has also Byron's beautiful 
 intervals of tenderness, hii- strong practical tiioug-ht, and his forcible expression, 
 it is not an artificial imitation, but a natural parallel ; and we may add, that it ii 
 this, her latest production, which especially induces, and seems to us to justify, 
 our criticism. 
 
 "The Dream is a very beautiful poem, the frame-work of which is simply a 
 lovely mother watching over a lovely daughter asleep; which daughter dreams, 
 and when awaked tells her dream ; which dream depicts the bliss of a first love 
 and an early union, aud is followed by the mother's admonitory comment, import 
 ing the many accidents to which wedded happiness is liable, and exhorting to 
 moderation of hope, and preparation for severe duties. It is in this latter portion 
 of the poem tliat the passion and the interest assume a personal hue ; and passages 
 occur which sound like javelins hurled by an A.uazon." — Qtiarterly Review. 
 
 " We find it difficult to overstate the deep interest we have taken in this volume, 
 or the mingled .sentiments of admiration, sympathy, and respect with which we 
 offer to the writer our very sincere, though very imperfect praise," — Examiner. 
 
 THE CHILD OF THE ISLANDS : a poem. 
 
 "There can be no question that the performance bears throughout the stamp of 
 extraordinary ability — the sens*- of easy power very rarely deserts us. But we 
 
 pau^e on the bursts of genius : and they are many The exquisite beauty 
 
 of the verses is wortiiy of the noble wonjaiily leelings expre.ssed in them 
 
 We wisli we had room for a .-^coie more of these iua.>terly sketches — but we hope 
 ♦*■(! have given enough, not to excite atteniioii. for tliat such gifts em])loyed with 
 such energy uiust at once comuiairl, even wcru the uaiiie on the title-page a new 
 one — but enough to show tiiat we have not iibserved with indifference this mani- 
 festation of developed skill — this fairest wreath as yet won in the service of the 
 graver Mu.«ej for tlie name of Shekidan." — Q.iartei-ly Kevieio. 
 
 "This is poetry, true (welry, and of the sort we uufeignedly approve — the 
 fenuine product of a cultivated mind, a ric!i /ancy, and a warm, well regulated 
 heart. The aim is noble, the tone eknaled, tiie train of thought refined and chas- 
 tened, though singularity fearless, the clioicc of images aud lUustrutions, judicious, 
 and the language often beautiful, and always clear. 
 
 " We find in almost every page of this elegant volume, some bold burst, graceful 
 illusion, or delicate touch ; — some tr.tii of external nature, or glimpse into the re« 
 cesses of the heart — that irresistibly indicates the creating or transfiguring power 
 of genius." — Edinburgh Recieto. 
 
 " Under cover of addressing tiie young Prince of Wales, Mrs. Norton has written 
 a very beautiful poem upon the great domestic question of the day — the conditioa 
 
 of the people The poem is divided into four parts — JSjiring, Summer, 
 
 Autumn, and Winter. No couuecled story binds tliein together, but a succession 
 of remarkably pleasiug pictares from nature are presented to the mind."— TitnM. 
 
 lu preparation, and will be shortly issue!, 
 
 BY THE SAME AUTHOR: 
 
 Sorrows of Rosalie, and other Poem.s. 
 The Undying One, and oth^r Poems 
 
PUBLISHED BY C. 3. FRANCIS AND CO., NEW- YORK. 
 
 MENTAL AND MORAL CULTURE, 
 
 AND POPULAR EDUCxVTION. By S. S. Randall, Gen. Dep. Si> 
 pennlenfl''ijt of Common Schools iii the State of New-York. To whinh 
 is appended a Spi:cial Report on CommoiN School Libraries; pre- 
 pared in pursuance of the instructions of the Superintendent of Con)nion 
 Schools; by Hknry S. Randall, Superintendent of Cortlandt County. 
 
 Contents. — Chap. I. The Philosophy of Education. — Chap. 11. Physical, Intel- 
 lectual, and Moral Culture. — Chap. III. The Nature and Mission of Genius. — Chap. 
 IV. Mental Philosophy. — Chap. V. Formation and Developmeat of Character.— 
 Chap. VI. Moral Responsibility. — Caap. VII. Public lu.struction. — Chap. VIII. Col- 
 leges, Academies, and Common Schools. — Chap. IX. Report on Common School 
 Libraries. 
 
 "The object which the author of this work has proposed to himself has been to di* 
 rect the attention of the reader to considerations intimately connected with phy- 
 sical, moral, and intellectual education, and the formation of the character, and 
 to point out the facilities, as well as obstacles, to mental culture, which arc presented 
 by the varying circumstances of life, by the institutions of society, and by public 
 •entiment." 
 
 Sncscloprlria of ©oofeing, 
 
 THE COOK'S OWN BOOK 
 
 AND HOUSEKEEPER'S REGISTER : being Receipts for Cooking o/ 
 every kind of Meat, Fish, and Fowl ; and making every sort of Soup, 
 Gravy, Pastry, Preserves, and Essences ; with a complete system of 
 Confectionery; Tables for Murketiug; a Book of Carving; and Miss 
 Leslie's Seventy-five Receipts for Pastry, Cakes, and Sweetmeats. By 
 a Boston Housekeeper. 
 
 Containing several thotisand receipts, arranged in alphabetical order, preceded by 
 general observations on the Management of Fami}ie.«, Cooking Utensils. Diet, Boiling, 
 Baking, Roasting, Frying, Broiling, Broths and Soups, and various articles used in 
 cooking. 
 
 This hook is a complete Culinary Encyclopedia, there beinsr few words or phrases or 
 receipts that cannot be found in it; and it embraces all the improvements of modern 
 times. It is made very couvenieut for reference, by being arranged in the form of a 
 dictionary. 
 
 Extracts from the Preface. — " The Cook exercises a greater power over the public 
 health and welfare than the physician, and if he should be a eharlatan in his art, alas' 
 for his employers." 
 
 'After insanity, the most grievous affliction of Providence, or of improvidence and 
 bad diet, is Dyspepsy. Tliis malady is bejoad tiiescience of the physician, but within 
 the art of the Cook." 
 
 " .More than health depends upon tlie proper preparation of food : our very virtues 
 «re the creatures of eircumst.inces. and many a man has hardened his heart, or given 
 up a good resolution, under the operation of indigestion." 
 
 " The study of the author ha.* been to make every recipe plain, and the proportions 
 certain ; little is loft to discretion that could be reduced to measure. Tiie system ot 
 confectionery is perfect ; and if strictly followed, every cook may become a first rate 
 confectioner. L ibour, care and expense have been bestowed upon the work, and the 
 publishers feel secure of its merit " 
 
 " It will not be bi-neath the solicitude of a good wife diligently to study this book, 
 by the help of which a neat and well-dressed repast can constantly be provided." 
 
 BOOK OF CARVING. 
 
 THE HAND-BOOK OF CARVING; with Hints on the Etiquette of the 
 
 Dinner Table. 
 
 Containing directions for Carving all kinds of Meat, Poultry Game, Fisb, &c., with 
 Illustrative eugravinga. 
 
PUBLISHED BY C. S. FRANCIS & CO., NEW- YORK. 
 
 ^Writings Of 31. ilttarta €]DtItr* 
 
 LETTERS FROM NEW-YORK 
 
 First and Second Series. 
 
 " Mrs. Child is a wonderful woman. It is not likely that all her thoughts will find 
 currency in the world, at this day, and be received as the coinmon-p'ice of the mind 
 but those, who will regard her as visionary and enthusiastic, vfitl yet admire her 
 originality ; and those who think the visionary to be weak in mind, will be startled 
 by such boldness of thought, as none but the strong can conceive ; yet visionary and 
 «nthusiitstic as some may pronounce her, and bold to think what the present thinks 
 itself unprepared for, there is nothing of harsh statement to be found in her expres- 
 sions. So far from it, that her mind rather resembles the vine which hangs in grace- 
 ful festoons upon the oak ; and its visions remind one not of the splendours of a 
 «hunder-storm with gleams of lightning at night, but of the soft light of the morning, 
 or the clouds which crowd around the west to see the sun go down. A geotler, 
 purer, happier spirit, it has not been our fortune to meet with in print." — Bost.Cow 
 
 HISTORY OF WOMEN. 
 
 The History of the Condition of Women, in various Ages and Nations, 
 from the earliest to the present times. 2 vols. A new edition. 
 
 Vol. I. Women of Asia and Africa. — Jewish, Babylonian, Assyrian, Lycian, Cari 
 an, Trojan, Syrian, Arabian, Aff;rhanistan, Circassian, Georgian, Armenian, Turk- 
 ish, Persian, Hindoo, Thibetan, Burmese, Siamese, Malay, Chinese, Corean, Tartar, 
 Amazons, Siberian, Javanese, Sumatran, Japanese; VVomen of Borneo, Celebes, 
 Bali, Timor, New Holland, Van Dieman's Land, Loo Choo, and other Islands. — 
 Egyptian, Carthagenian, Moorish, African, Hottentot, <fec. 
 
 Vol. 2. Women of Europe and America. — Grecian, Roman, Scandinavian, Danish, 
 and other Northern Nations. Women during the Middle Ages, and the Centuries 
 succeeding. English, Irish, Scotch, French, Spanish, Portuguese, Italian, Polish, 
 German Austrian, Tyrolese, Dutch, Swiss, Russian, Swedish, Icelandish ; Modern 
 Greeks; Peasantry; Modern A;nusements, Marriages, Laws, and Customs; Women 
 in slave-holding Countries. American Indians, Arctic Regions, South American. 
 Of the United States. Of the South Sea Islands, &c. 
 
 THE MOTHER'S BOOK. 
 
 New Edition — Revised and Amended. 
 
 The value and usefulness of this little book is well known, — it having passed 
 through eight editions in this country and twelve in England. 
 
 Contents of the Chapters. — I. On the means of developing the bodily senses in ear- 
 liest infancy. — II. Early development of the affections. — HI. Early cultivation of 
 intellect. — IV. Management in childhood. — V. Amusements and employments. — 
 VI. Sunday. Religion. Viewsof Death. Supernatural appearances. — VII. Advice 
 concerning books. Lisi of good books for various ages. — VIII. Politeness. — IX. 
 Beauty. Dress. Gentility. — X. Management during the teens. — XI. View* of 
 Matrimony. — Concluding observations. 
 
 FLOWERS FOR CHILDREN. 
 
 A Series of volumes in Prose and Verse, for Children of various SLges. 
 
 "These are flowers which have budded and blossomed for others beside children; 
 and as none may now look upon the lilies of the field, bowing their heads in pure 
 effulgence, or in gorgeous luxuriance of show, without remembering a lesson im- 
 pressed upon every petal, by that mild look of the Saviour's, which he gave them 
 while observing that human hearts might he instructed by them, so these little flow- 
 er*, gathered in the fields of Christian wisdom, in the company of the spirit of the 
 Saviour, suggest lessons to instruct the minds of the wisest, and open the springs of 
 pure emotion in the hearts of the best." — Boston Courier. 
 
 " Verily, wo, are delighted ourselves, and congtatulate our readers who are blessed 
 with the heritage of children, upon this accession to our juvenile libraries, and hope 
 that Mrs. Child will not be chary of her volumes. These "Flowers" are so sweet 
 and unfading that we would make our youngsters' libraries redolent cf their per- 
 fume and beatUy." — Commercial Jdvertiser. 
 
In cloth, plain. .^Iso, in omavienlal bindings for Presents^ 
 THE 
 
 POPULAR POEMS OF SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 NEW EDITIONS. 
 
 With the Author's latest Corrections^ Introdnetions, and Notes ; 
 
 EACH IN A SINGLE VOLUME, WITH BEAUTIFUL STEEL EMGRAVINGS. 
 
 THE LAY OF THE LAST MINSTREL. 
 
 BALLADS AND SONGS 
 
 '•For vivid richness of coloring, and truth of costume, many of the descriptive 
 passa<?es of this poem stand afmost unrivalled. It carries us back in imagination 
 to the time of action ; and we wander with the poet along Tweedside, or among 
 t)»* wild glad»s of Ettrick Forest." 
 
 MARMION. 
 
 a S:ale of iFlotJtien iXieltJ. 
 
 '• This poem is superior to all that Scott has hitherto produced, and with a few 
 faults of diction, equal to any thing that has ever been written." — Jeffrev, 
 Edinburgh Review. 
 
 THE LADY OF THE LAKE; 
 
 Kn Si): (Kantos. 
 
 THE VISION OF DON RODERICK. 
 
 "There is a richness and spirit in this poem, a profusion of incident, and a 
 •hifting brilliancy of coloring, that remind us of the witchery of Ariosto." — 
 Jkff&et. 
 
 R O K E B Y . 
 
 THE BRIDAL OF TRIERMAIN. 
 
 "The interest inspired by the fal)le, tlie masterly delineations of the characters 
 by whose agency the plot is unravelled, and the spirited, nervous conciseness of the 
 narrative, we think will satisfy the expeetations which the author's reputation has 
 excited. " — Edinburgh Review. 
 
 THE LORD OF THE ISLES. 
 
 THE FIELD OF WATERLOO, AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 " Another genuine lay from the harp of that indefatigable minstrel. The sam* 
 glow of coloring, the same energy of narration, the same amplitude cf description, 
 are conspicuous here, wbidi distinguish »U his other productions." — Edinburgh 
 Review 
 
PUBLISHED BY C. S. FRANCIS AMD CO., NEW-YORK. 
 
 "TRAGEDIES, SONNETS, AND VERSES: 
 
 BY T. NOON TALFOURD. 
 
 Price 50 cents. 
 
 " This is the first complete American edition of Talfourd's Plays and Poems. 
 It will meet with a hearty welcome from hi!> admirers, and their name is ' Le- 
 gion.' " Com. Adv. 
 
 " Talfourd is a thoughtful and purely classic writer, and this new volume is 
 indeed an addition to the select library." Boston Transcript. 
 
 •'Talfourd's poems are too well known to require praise. A chast«, elevated, 
 and even style — a perfect model of grace and melody; and withal pervaded by a 
 f enernus and humane philosophy." I^ew Haven Herald. 
 
 "A most acceptable addition to the truly choice, reading of the day. If the 
 volume contained only ' lou ' alone, it would be worth twice the price at which it 
 is sold, to any reader of pure and classic taste." Knickerbocker. 
 
 " This remarknhle poem (Ion) has justly called to itself more attention than any 
 other work of the times. It has given more pleasure to the reader, and more fame 
 to the writer, than all the red-hot productions of the intense school put to^'ether." 
 
 N. Amer. Rtvi^io. 
 
 "Ion is an eminently chaste and poetical creation, graceful and poli.shed in its 
 style, pure and elevated in its sentiments, full of thoughts, which, without being 
 forced, appear original, and adorned with images of great beauty." 
 
 Edin. Review. 
 
 MEMOIR OF FELICIA HEMANS: 
 
 BY HER SISTER. 
 
 With an Essay on her Genius ; by Mrs. Sigourney. 
 Price 37^ cents. 
 
 "Who that has read, and re-read with fresh delight, the works of a gifted mind, 
 does not long to become familiar with the private life of the writer? Who, of all 
 the poetesses now living, could pen so truthful an essay on the seniii.* of Mrs, 
 Hemans, as Mrs. Sigourney ?" Albnnij Sptctntor. 
 
 "These memoirs, from a sister's hand, with their authenticity, ccnnl)iiie nil 
 those attractive graces of style and language peculiar to the tracinsrs of a female 
 pen." Eve. Jonrual. 
 
 "A well-written biography, prefaced by a beautiful Essay on the genius of Alra. 
 Hemans, from the pen of iMrs. Sigourney." Com. Adv. 
 
 LALLA ROOKH : 
 
 AN ORIENTAL ROMANCE. By Thomas Mooke. 
 
 A beautiful Edition, on fine paper and large type. Price 37^ cents. 
 
 This exquisite poem is so well known, and its reputation so fully established, 
 that notices of it would be superfluous. It is sufficient to say, in the words of 
 Professor Wilson, th:U, "This poem, from the hand of beyond all comparison, the 
 most ingenious, brilliant, and fanciful poet of the present age, ip the most beauti- 
 ful and characteristic of his compositions." 
 
PUBLISHED Ijy C. S. FRANCIS AND CO., NEW-VORK. 
 
 Knterestina CKames, 
 
 THE PICKWICK CARDS, 
 
 Invented by Samuel Wellkr, for the Entertainment of his Friends, Old 
 
 and Young. 
 
 Twenty-five cards, enclosed in a neat case ; each card having on it a scene or char- 
 acter from the writings of Dickens ; with directions for playing three different games, 
 for the amusement of evening parties. Price 50 cents. 
 
 SHAKSPERE IN A N E\A^ DRESS. 
 
 Thirty cards, containing fifty-two choice quotations from Shakspere, with a list ol 
 questions, to be answered from the cards So arranged as to form an iuterestin|^ 
 round game, with forfeits. Price 50 cents. 
 
 NEW FORTUNE-TELLER. 
 
 THE OKACLE OF FORTUNE, and Guide to Wealth and Success. 
 
 " These interesting cards combine allthe information necessary to secure Wealth, 
 and Success in matters of Love or Money ; they are constructed on the principles 
 which the late Baron Rothschild found so eminently successful, and conibim- the re- 
 quisite mixture of shrewd suggestions, wise calculations, and cautious adiuouitious, to 
 direct any one in the way to good luck." Price 50 cents. 
 
 THE BOY'S 0\JVN BOOK. 
 
 A Complete Encyclopedia of all the Diversions, Athletic, Scientific, and 
 Recreative, of Boyhood and Youth. 
 
 Including Games with Marbles, Tops, Balls, Sports of Agility and Speed, Toys, 
 Archery, Cricket, Gymnastics, Sw imming; Arithmetical, Optical and Chemical Amuse- 
 ments ; Checkers, Cards, Legerdemain, Puzzles, Riddles, Angling, Fencing, &c. &c. 
 &c., with very numerous engravings. 
 
 THE AMERICAN GIRL'S BOOK j 
 
 Or, OCCUPATION FOR PLAY HOURS. By Miss Leslie. 
 
 Including all the Sports and Pastimes suited to Girls ; Plays with Toys, Game* 
 with Cards, Riddles, Amusing and Fancy Needle-Work, Card- Work, &c. &c 
 
 PARLOUR MAGIC 
 
 Or, BOYS' BOOK OF AMUSING EXPERIMENTS. 
 
 Containing Transmutations; Experiments in Sight and Sound ; on Light and Heatj 
 on Gas and Steam ; on Fire, Water, and Air ; Sleights and Subtleties ; Miscellane- 
 ous Experiments. 
 
 GYMNASTIC EXERCISES. 
 
 Paul Preston's Book of Gymnastics ; or Sports for Youth to promote 
 Health and Long Life. 
 
 Containing directions for Exercises on the Parallel Bars, Horizontal Pole, Horso 
 Exercise, Running, Leaping, Throwing the Spear, Climbing, &c. «tc. &c., with illus- 
 trative diagrams. 
 
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