A BIBLIOGRAPHICAL Antiquarian AND PICTURESQUE TOUR.

PRINTED BY WILLIAM NICOL, AT THE
Shakespeare Press.

ANN OF BRITTANY. From an Illustrated Missal in the Royal Library at Paris.

London. Published June 1829. by R. Jennings. Poultry.

A
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL
Antiquarian
AND
PICTURESQUE TOUR
IN
FRANCE AND GERMANY.

BY THE REVEREND THOMAS FROGNALL DIBDIN, D.D.
MEMBER OF THE ROYAL ACADEMY AT ROUEN, AND OF THE ACADEMY OF UTRECHT.

SECOND EDITION.

VOLUME II.

DEI OMNIA PLENA

LONDON:
PUBLISHED BY ROBERT JENNINGS, AND JOHN MAJOR.
1829.

CONTENTS OF VOLUME II.

CONTENTS.

VOLUME II.

LETTER I.

PARIS. The Boulevards. Public Buildings. Street Scenery. Fountains

LETTER II.

General Description of the Bibliothèque du Roi. The Librarians

LETTER III.

The same subject continued

LETTER IV.

The same subject continued

LETTER V.

PARIS. Some Account of the early printed and rare Books in the Royal Library

LETTER VI.

Conclusion of the Account of the Royal Library. The Library of the Arsenal

LETTER VII.

Library of Ste. Geneviève. The Abbé Mercier St. Léger. Library of the Mazarine College, or Institute. Private Library of the King. Mons. Barbier, Librarian,

Introduction to Letter VIII

LETTER VIII.

Some Account of the late Abbé Rive. Booksellers. Printers. Book Binders

LETTER IX.

Men of Letters. Dom Brial. The Abbé Bétencourt. Messrs. Gail, Millin, and Langlès. A Roxburghe Banquet

LETTER X.

The Collections of Denon, Quintin Craufurd, and the Marquis de Sommariva

LETTER XI.

Notice of M. Willemin's Monumens Français inédits. Miscellaneous Antiquities. Present State of the Fine Arts. General Observations upon the National Character

LETTER XII.

Paris to Strasbourg. Nancy

LETTER XIII.

STRASBOURG. Establishment of the Protestant Religion. The Cathedral. The Public Library

LETTER XIV.

Society. Environs of Strasbourg. Domestic Architecture. Manners and Customs. Literature. Language

LETTER I.

PARIS. THE BOULEVARDS. PUBLIC BUILDINGS. STREET SCENERY. FOUNTAINS.1

Paris, June 18, 1818.

You are probably beginning to wonder at the tardiness of my promised Despatch, in which the architectural minutiæ of this City were to be somewhat systematically described. But, as I have told you towards the conclusion of my previous letter, it would be to very little purpose to conduct you over every inch of ground which had been trodden and described by a host of Tourists, and from which little of interest or of novelty could be imparted. Yet it seems to be absolutely incumbent upon me to say something by way of local description.

Perhaps the BOULEVARDS form the most interesting feature about Paris. I speak here of the principal Boulevards:--of those, extending from Ste. Madelaine to St. Antoine; which encircle nearly one half the capital. Either on foot, or in a carriage, they afford you singular gratification. A very broad road way, flanked by two rows of trees on each side, within which the population of Paris seems to be in incessant agitation--lofty houses, splendid shops, occasionally a retired mansion, with a parterre of blooming flowers in front--all manner of merchandize exposed in the open air--prints, muslins, kaleidoscopes, (they have just introduced them2) trinkets, and especially watch chains and strings of beads, spread in gay colours upon the ground--the undulations of the chaussée--and a bright blue sky above the green trees--all these things irresistibly rivet the attention and extort the admiration of a stranger. You may have your boots cleaned, and your breakfast prepared, upon these same boulevards. Felicitous junction of conveniences!

This however is only a hasty sketch of what may be called a morning scene. AFTERNOON approaches: then, the innumerable chairs, which have been a long time unoccupied, are put into immediate requisition: then commences the "high exchange" of the loungers. One man hires two chairs, for which he pays two sous: he places his legs upon one of them; while his body, in a slanting position, occupies the other. The places, where these chairs are found, are usually flanked by coffee houses. Incessant reports from drawing the corks of beer bottles resound on all sides. The ordinary people are fond of this beverage; and for four or six sous they get a bottle of pleasant, refreshing, small beer. The draught is usually succeeded by a doze--in the open air. What is common, excites no surprise; and the stream of population rushes on without stopping one instant to notice these somniferous indulgences. Or, if they are not disposed to sleep, they sit and look about them: abstractedly gazing upon the multitude around, or at the heavens above. Pure, idle, unproductive listlessness is the necessary cause of such enjoyment.

Evening approaches: when the Boulevards put on their gayest and most fascinating livery. Then commences the bustle of the Ice Mart: in other words, then commences the general demand for ices: while the rival and neighbouring caffés of TORTONI and RICHE have their porches of entrance choked by the incessant ingress and egress of customers. The full moon shines beautifully above the foliage of the trees; and an equal number of customers, occupying chairs, sit without, and call for ices to be brought to them. Meanwhile, between these loungers, and the entrances to the caffés, move on, closely wedged, and yet scarcely in perceptible motion, the mass of human beings who come only to exercise their eyes, by turning them to the right or to the left: while, on the outside, upon the chaussée, are drawn up the carriages of visitors (chiefly English ladies) who prefer taking their ice within their closed morocco quarters. The varieties of ice are endless, but that of the Vanille is justly a general favourite: not but that you may have coffee, chocolate, punch, peach, almond, and in short every species of gratification of this kind; while the glasses are filled to a great height, in a pyramidal shape, and some of them with layers of strawberry, gooseberry, and other coloured ice--looking like pieces of a Harlequin's jacket--are seen moving to and fro, to be silently and certainly devoured by those who bespeak them. Add to this, every one has his tumbler and