قراءة كتاب Peregrine in France A Lounger's Journal, in Familiar Letters to his Friend
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Peregrine in France A Lounger's Journal, in Familiar Letters to his Friend
wines. There are four immense buildings, of a great many roofs, something like the large tobacco bonded warehouse at the London Docks. It is quite a new building, and not yet completed.
We then looked into the calf market, which is also sufficiently convenient for its purpose, the sale of cows and calves, whence they are taken to be butchered at the public slaughter-houses in the suburbs.
In the evening I visited one of the minor theatres, le Théâtre de la Porte St. Martin, of which the music and decorations are very respectable.
The next day, the 22d, I repaired to the Musée des Monumens Français, a very interesting collection of the monuments which have been rescued from the ruins of the churches destroyed during the revolution. There are an immense number from St. Denys, the burial-place of the French kings. They are arranged in different apartments, according to their relative antiquity, from the time of king Clovis to the present. Some are worthy of attention for their excellent workmanship, and others for their ancient date. Among the former the monuments of Francis I. and the Cardinal de Richelieu interested me; and among the latter the tomb and monument of Abelard and Eloisa, in which are actually contained the real ashes of these far-famed lovers. Here are also specimens of painted glass of different ages, and some curious heathen idols, supposed to have been worshipped by the ancient Gauls. Many of the larger monuments are placed in a garden, suitably planted with willows, cypresses, &c. In fact, this museum is the Westminster Abbey of Paris, and well deserving of being visited by every traveller, who will find there two conductors equally civil and intelligent.
I afterwards went to the celebrated National Institute, and found my way into the library, which, though not so large as some others in Paris, is convenient; and its books, which are all very handsomely bound, are well arranged. A member, perceiving me to be a stranger, very politely shewed me the Salle des Séances, where their papers and communications are read. It is a comfortable warm room, and fitted up with desks and chairs in a very handsome style, much superior to the room in which our Royal Society hold their sittings. This gentleman, upon my telling him that I had the honour of a degree in medicine, said he should be very happy to introduce me to the president, and invited me to assist at their next sitting.
I was then conducted by an under librarian through three or four small apartments, lined with books, (in one of which he pointed out a curious piece of antiquity from Egypt, a kind of shirt, 4000 years old,) to the hall where the public sittings of the Institute are held every quarter. This hall is plain, but neat and convenient. Its antechambers, however, are magnificent. There are ten or twelve of the most beautiful statues I ever saw of their kind, representing the most celebrated philosophers and poets of France, all in sitting attitudes, and clothed according to the costume of the times in which they flourished.
There is another library under the same roof, which is a public one, and of course larger than that of the Institute. I believe it is called the Mazarine Library. There is in it a large terrestrial globe, of seven or eight feet diameter, having the boundaries of the land marked by a small silver fillet neatly inlaid. The globe is of metal, and the water is painted blue. It is so placed as to be easily referred to. Round this library there are some fine busts.
Behind the institute are placed the schools of painting and architecture. I obtained admission into the gallery of models, belonging to the school of architecture, and was much pleased by a collection of models of the most celebrated buildings of Greece, Palmyra, and Rome, executed in cork and plaster, in the same way as Du Bourg's in London. Here, for the first time, the man who shewed them to me asked for something à boire; and conceiving that his gallery was not usually open to the public, he got it.
The following morning, the 23d, I went to the Royal Library, which contains not less than 400,000 volumes, all in one gallery of the shape of the Greek letter π. This is open to the public for reference and amusement. The books are in general well bound. Here are the famous globes of Coronelli, of nearly forty feet in circumference. They are seen from the gallery, but they stand in a room below it, and enter the gallery by a large aperture in the floor. They have no merit but their size, which, however, does not prevent them from being easily turned upon their axes. They have been made fifty or sixty years; and of course the geographical discoveries which have taken place since are not depicted. Upon every country there is a representation of the dress and manners of its inhabitants; and on the various seas of the different kinds of ships made use of on them. There is also a model of the pyramids of Egypt, and a small group of bronze statues, representing the great French writers, on the top of Parnassus, a truly French idea!
Over the library of printed books, in two small rooms, there is a very complete collection of prints, bound and arranged according to their different schools. Here I saw several students copying from them.
In another part of the building is the library of manuscripts, where I also saw some bibles superbly bound in velvet, and ornamented with chased gold and precious stones. There are likewise exposed in glass cases, original letters of Henry IV. to la belle Gabrielle, and the Telemachus of Fenelon, in the hand-writing of that beautiful author.
Many valuable manuscripts, brought here from the Vatican and other Italian libraries, should, in justice, have been restored with the pictures and statues of that country; but, I suppose, not being of such interest to the general mass of the people there, they have been overlooked. There is also a valuable cabinet of Greek and Roman medals, and other antiquities; but not knowing this circumstance when I paid my visit there, I did not see them. The exterior of this large building has nothing worthy of notice.
From the Royal Library I went to the Museum of Natural History, at the Jardin des Plantes; and this is certainly a most complete collection of every created being that could be procured. There are three noble lions, as many lionesses, and four or five fine bears, one of which, some years ago, devoured a man who had descended by a ladder into his den, (a large open place inclosed in high walls,) for the purpose of getting a piece of money which he had dropt.
The animals, natives of tropical climates, are inclosed in a large circular building, kept comfortably warm by means of stoves. I was interested by some camels, which have bred here, as well as by a fine sagacious elephant. Every thing is perfectly clean, and well secured. The collection of voracious birds is complete; and as you walk through the garden, you are surrounded by fowls and ducks, sheep, goats, deer, and other tame animals, of different kinds.
The Cabinet of Comparative Anatomy is not better than that of the British Museum: but I saw some beautifully executed wax-work representations of the progress of the chick in ovo; and a skeleton of an amazing camelopard. Among the human skeletons is that of the assassin of General Kleber, who was tortured in Egypt, with a view of extorting from him the name of the person who had instigated him to the rash act. The mode of torture used was the application of fire to his hands, which he endured with surprising fortitude, without uttering a word of confession. The effects of the fire upon the bones of the hand are very visible.
The mineralogical collection, and that of serpents, small fishes, and stuffed birds, I have not seen. The botanical garden does not appear so good as that of Edinburgh.
There is a convenient anatomical theatre, for the prosecution of comparative anatomy; and from one part of the garden, near a fine cedar, planted by Jussieu, a good view of the city of Paris