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Title: A Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour in France and Germany, Volume Two

Author: Thomas Frognall Dibdin

Release Date: November 19, 2005 [EBook #17107]

Language: English

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A

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL

_Antiquarian_

AND

PICTURESQUE TOUR.




PRINTED BY WILLIAM NICOL, AT THE
Shakespeare Press.




[Illustration: 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_.                                                              1

LETTER II.

_General Description of the Bibliotheque du Roi. The
Librarians_.                                                            42

LETTER III.

_The same subject continued_.                                           64

LETTER IV.

_The same subject continued_.                                           82

LETTER V.

PARIS. _Some Account of the early printed and rare
Books in the Royal Library_.                                           101

LETTER VI.

_Conclusion of the Account of the Royal Library. The
Library of the Arsenal_.                                               144

LETTER VII.

_Library of Ste. Genevieve. The Abbe Mercier St.
Leger. Library of the Mazarine College, or Institute.
Private Library of the King. Mons. Barbier,
Librarian_.                                                            169

_Introduction to Letter VIII_.                                         209

LETTER VIII.

_Some Account of the late Abbe Rive. Booksellers.
Printers. Book Binders_.                                               214

LETTER IX.

_Men of Letters. Dom Brial. The Abbe Betencourt.
Messrs. Gail, Millin, and Langles. A Roxburghe
Banquet_.                                                              251

LETTER X.

_The Collections of Denon, Quintin Craufurd, and the
Marquis de Sommariva_.                                                 279

LETTER XI.

_Notice of M. Willemin's Monumens Francais inedits.
Miscellaneous Antiquities. Present State of the
Fine Arts. General Observations upon the National
Character_.                                                            317

LETTER XII.

_Paris to Strasbourg. Nancy_.                                          343

LETTER XIII.

STRASBOURG. _Establishment of the Protestant Religion.
The Cathedral. The Public Library_.                                    374

LETTER XIV.

_Society. Environs of Strasbourg. Domestic Architecture.
Manners and Customs. Literature. Language_.                            413


[Illustration]


_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 minutiae 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 them[2])
trinkets, and especially watch chains and strings of beads, spread in gay
colours upon the ground--the undulations of the chaussee--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 _caffes_ 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
caffes, 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 chaussee,
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 small water-bottle by the side of him: in the centre of the
bottle is a large piece of ice, and with a tumbler of water, poured out
from it, the visitor usually concludes his repast. The most luxurious of
these ices scarcely exceeds a shilling of our money; and the quantity is at
least half as much again as you get at a certain well-known confectioner's
in Piccadilly.

It is getting towards MIDNIGHT; but the bustle and activity of the
Boulevards have not yet much abated. Groups of musicians, ballad-singers,
tumblers, actors, conjurors, slight-of-hand professors, and raree-shew men,
have each their distinct audiences. You advance. A little girl with a
raised turban (as usual, tastefully put on) seems to have no mercy either
upon her own voice or upon the hurdy-gurdy on which she plays: her father
shews his skill upon a violin, and the mother is equally active with the
organ; after "a flourish"--not of "trumpets"--but of these instruments--the
tumblers commence their operations. But a great crowd is collected to the
right. What may this mean? All are silent; a ring is made, of which the
boundaries are marked by small lighted candles stuck in pieces of clay.
Within this circle stands a man--apparently strangled: both arms are
extended, and his eyes are stretched to their utmost limits. You look more
closely--and the hilt of a dagger is seen in his mouth, of which the blade
is introduced into his stomach! He is almost breathless, and ready to
faint--but he approaches, with the crown of a hat in one hand, into which
he expects you should drop a sous. Having made his collection, he draws
forth the dagger from its carnal sheath, and, making his bow, seems to
anticipate the plaudits which invariably follow.[3] Or, he changes his plan
of operations on the following evening. Instead of the dagger put down his
throat, he introduces a piece of wire up one nostril, to descend by the
other--and, thus self-tortured, demands the remuneration and the applause
of his audience. In short, from one end of the Boulevards to the other, for
nearly two English miles, there is nought but animation, good humour, and,
it is right to add, good order;--while, having strolled as far as the
Boulevards _de Bondy_, and watched the moon-beams sparkling in the waters
which play there within the beautiful fountain so called,--I retread my
steps, and seek the quiet quarters in which this epistle is penned.

The next out-of-door sources of gratification, of importance, are the
_Gardens of the Thuileries_, the _Champs Elysees_, and the promenade within
the _Palais Royal_; in which latter plays a small, but, in my humble
opinion, the most beautifully constructed fountain which Paris can boast
of. Of this, presently. The former of these spots is rather pretty than
picturesque: rather limited than extensive: a raised terrace to the left,
on looking from the front of the Thuileries, is the only commanding
situation--from which you observe the Seine, running with its green tint,
and rapid current, to the left--while on the right you leisurely examine
the rows of orange trees and statuary which give an imposing air of
grandeur to the scene. At this season of the year, the fragrance of the
blossoms of the orange trees is most delicious. The statues are of a
colossal, and rather superior kind ... for garden decoration. There are
pleasing vistas and wide gravel walks, and a fine evening usually fills
them with crowds of Parisians. The palace is long, but rather too low and
narrow; yet there is an air of elegance about it, which, with the
immediately surrounding scenery, cannot fail to strike you very agreeably.
The white flag of St. Louis floats upon the top of the central dome. The
_Champs Elysees_ consist of extensive wooded walks; and a magnificent road
divides them, which serves as the great attractive mall for carriages--
especially on Sundays--while, upon the grass, between the trees, on that
day, appear knots of male and female citizens enjoying the waltz or
quadrille. It is doubtless a most singular, and animated scene: the utmost
order and good humour prevailing. The _Place Louis Quinze_, running at
right angles with the Thuileries, and which is intersected in your route to
the _Rue de la Paix_, is certainly a most magnificent front elevation;
containing large and splendid houses, of elaborate exterior ornament. When
completed, to the right, it will present an almost matchless front of
domestic architecture, built upon the Grecian model. It was in this place,
facing his own regal residence of the Thuileries, that the unfortunate
Louis--surrounded by a ferocious and bloodthirsty mob--was butchered by the
guillotine.

Come back with me now into the very heart of Paris, and let us stroll
within the area of the _Palais Royal_. You may remember that I spoke of a
fountain, which played within the centre of this popular resort. The
different branches, or _jets d'eau_, spring from a low, central point; and
crossing each other in a variety of angles, and in the most pleasing manner
of intersection, produce, altogether, the appearance of the blossom of a
large flower: so silvery and transparent is the water, and so gracefully
are its glassy petals disposed. Meanwhile, the rays of the sun, streaming
down from above, produce a sort of stationary rainbow: and, in the heat of
the day, as you sit upon the chairs, or saunter beneath the trees, the
effect is both grateful and refreshing. The little flower garden, in the
centre of which this fountain seems to be for ever playing, is a perfect
model of neatness and tasteful disposition: not a weed dare intrude: and
the earth seems always fresh and moist from the spray of the fountain--
while roses, jonquils, and hyacinths scatter their delicious fragrance
around. For one minute only let us visit the _Caffe des Mille Colonnes_: so
called (as you well know) from the number of upright mirrors and glasses
which reflect the small columns by which the ceiling is supported.
Brilliant and singular as is this effect, it is almost eclipsed by the
appearance of the Mistress of the House; who, decorated with rich and rare
gems, and seated upon a sort of elevated throne--uniting great comeliness
and (as some think) beauty of person--receives both the homage and (what is
doubtless preferable to her) the _francs_ of numerous customers and
admirers. The "wealth of either Ind" sparkles upon her hand, or glitters
upon her attire: and if the sun of her beauty be somewhat verging towards
its declension, it sets with a glow which reminds her old acquaintance of
the splendour of its noon-day power. It is yet a sharply contested point
whether the ice of this house be preferable to that of Tortoni: a point,
too intricate and momentous for my solution. "Non nostrum est ... tantas
componere lites."

Of the _Jardin des Plantes_, which I have once visited, but am not likely
to revisit--owing to the extreme heat of the weather, and the distance of
the spot from this place--scarcely too much can be said in commendation:
whether we consider it as a _depot_ for live or dead animals, or as a
school of study and instruction for the cultivators of natural history. The
wild animals are kept, in their respective cages, out of doors, which is
equally salutary for themselves and agreeable to their visitors. I was much
struck by the perpetual motion of a huge, restless, black bear, who has
left the marks of his footsteps by a concavity in the floor:--as well as by
the panting, and apparently painful, inaction of an equally huge white or
gray bear--who, nurtured upon beds of Greenland ice, seemed to be dying
beneath the oppressive heat of a Parisian atmosphere. The same misery
appeared to beset the bears who are confined, in an open space, below. They
searched every where for shade; while a scorching sun was darting its
vertical rays upon their heads. In the Museum of dead, or stuffed animals,
you have every thing that is minute or magnificent in nature, from the
creeping lizard to the towering giraffe, arranged systematically, and in a
manner the most obvious and intelligible: while Cuvier's collection of
fossil bones equally surprises and instructs you. It is worth all the
_catacombs_ of all the capitals in the world. If we turn to the softer and
more beauteous parts of creation, we are dazzled and bewildered by the
radiance and variety of the tribes of vegetables--whether as fruits or
flowers; and, upon the whole, this is an establishment which, in no age or
country, hath been surpassed.

It is not necessary to trouble you with much more of this strain. The
out-of-door enjoyments in Paris are so well known, and have been so
frequently described--and my objects of research being altogether of a very
different complexion--you will not, I conclude, scold me if I cease to
expatiate upon this topic, but direct your attention to others. Not however
but that I think you may wish to know my sentiments about the principal
ARCHITECTURAL BUILDINGS of Paris--as you are yourself not only a lover, but
a judge, of these matters--and therefore the better qualified to criticise
and correct the following remarks--which flow "au bout de la plume"--as
Madame de Sevigne says. In the first place, then, let us stop a few minutes
before the THUILERIES. It hath a beautiful front: beautiful from its
lightness and airiness of effect. The small central dome is the only raised
part in the long horizontal line of this extended building: not but what
the extremities are raised in the old fashioned sloping manner: but if
there had been a similar dome at each end, and that in the centre had been
just double its present height, the effect, in my humble opinion, would
have harmonised better with the extreme length of the building. It is very
narrow; so much so, that the same room contains windows from which you may
look on either side of the palace: upon the gardens to the west, or within
the square to the east.

Adjoining to the Thuileries is the LOUVRE: that is to say, a long range of
building to the south, parallel with the Seine, connects these magnificent
residences: and it is precisely along this extensive range that the
celebrated _Gallery of the Louvre_ runs. The principal exterior front, or
southern extremity of the Louvre, faces the Seine; and to my eye it is
nearly faultless as a piece of architecture constructed upon Grecian and
Roman models. But the interior is yet more splendid. I speak more
particularly of the south and western fronts: that facing the north being
more ancient, and containing female figure ornaments which are palpably of
a disproportionate length. The Louvre quadrangle (if I may borrow our old
college phrase) is assuredly the most splendid piece of ornamental
architecture which Paris contains. The interior of the edifice itself is as
yet in an unfinished condition;[4] but you must not conclude the
examination of this glorious pile of building, without going round to visit
the _eastern_ exterior front--looking towards Notre-Dame. Of all sides of
the square, within or without, this colonnade front is doubtless the most
perfect of its kind. It is less rich and crowded with ornament than any
side of the interior--but it assumes one of the most elegant, airy, and
perfectly proportionate aspects, of any which I am just now able to
recollect. Perhaps the basement story, upon which this double columned
colonnade of the Corinthian Order runs, is somewhat too plain--a sort of
affectation of the rustic. The alto-relievo figures in the centre of the
tympanum have a decisive and appropriate effect. The advantage both of the
Thuileries and Louvre is, that they are well seen from the principal
thoroughfares of Paris: that is to say, along the quays, and from the chief
streets running from the more ancient parts on the south side of the Seine.
The evil attending our own principal public edifices is, that they are
generally constructed where they _cannot_ be seen to advantage. Supposing
one of the principal entrances or malls of London, both for carriages and
foot, to be on the _south_ side of the Thames, what could be more
magnificent than the front of _Somerset House_, rising upon its hundred
columns perpendicularly from the sides of a river... three times as broad
as the Seine, with the majestic arches of _Waterloo Bridge!_--before which,
however, the stupendous elevation of _St. Paul's_ and its correspondent
bridge of _Black Friars_, could not fail to excite the wonder, and extort
the praise, of the most anti-anglican stranger. And to crown the whole, how
would the venerable nave and the towers of _Westminster Abbey_--with its
peculiar bridge of Westminster ... give a finish to such a succession of
architectural objects of metropolitan grandeur! Although in the very heart,
of Parisian wonder, I cannot help, you see, carrying my imagination towards
our own capital; and suggesting that, if, instead of furnaces, forges, and
flickering flames--and correspondent clouds of dense smoke--which give to
the southern side of the Thames the appearance of its being the abode of
legions of blacksmiths, and glass and shot makers--we introduced a little
of the good taste and good sense of our neighbours--and if ... But all this
is mighty easily said--though not quite so easily put in practice. The
truth however is, my dear friend, that we should _approximate_ a little
towards each other. Let the Parisians attend somewhat more to our domestic
comforts and commercial advantages--and let the Londoners sacrifice
somewhat of their love of warehouses and manufactories--and then you will
have hit the happy medium, which, in the metropolis of a great empire,
would unite all the conveniences, with all the magnificence, of situation.

Of other buildings, devoted to civil purposes, the CHAMBER OF DEPUTIES, the
HOTEL DES INVALIDES, with its gilded dome (a little too profusely adorned,)
the INSTITUTE, and more particularly the MINT, are the chief ornaments on
the south side of the Seine. In these I am not disposed to pick the least
hole, by fastidious or hypercritical observations. Only I wish that they
would contrive to let the lions, in front of the facade of the Institute,
(sometimes called the _College Mazarin_ or _des Quatre Nations_--upon the
whole, a magnificent pile) discharge a good large mouthful of water--
instead of the drivelling stream which is for ever trickling from their
closed jaws. Nothing can be more ridiculous than the appearance of these
meagre and unappropriate objects: the more to be condemned, because the
French in general assume great credit for the management of their
fountains. Of the four great buildings just noticed, that of the Mint, or
rather its facade, pleases me most. It is a beautiful elevation, in pure
good taste; but the stone is unfortunately of a coarse grain and of a dingy
colour. Of the BRIDGES thrown across the Seine, connecting all the fine
objects on either side, it must be allowed that they are generally in good
taste: light, yet firm; but those, in iron, of Louis XVI. and _des Arts_,
are perhaps to be preferred. The _Pont Neuf_, where the ancient part of
Paris begins, is a large, long, clumsy piece of stone work: communicating
with the island upon which _Notre Dame_ is built. But if you look eastward,
towards old Paris, from the top of this bridge--or if you look in the same
direction, a little towards the western side, or upon the quays,--you
contemplate, in my humble opinion, one of the grandest views of street
scenery that can be imagined! The houses are very lofty--occasionally of
six or even eight stories--the material with which they are built is a fine
cream-coloured stone: the two branches of the river, and the back ground
afforded by _Notre Dame_, and a few other subordinate public buildings,
altogether produce an effect--especially as you turn your back upon the
sun, sinking low behind the _Barriere de Neuilly_--which would equally warm
the hearts and exercise the pencils of the TURNERS and CALCOTS of our own
shores. Indeed, I learn that the former distinguished artist has actually
made a drawing of this picture. But let me add, that my own unqualified
admiration had preceded the knowledge of this latter fact. Among other
buildings, I must put in a word of praise in behalf of the
HALLE-AUX-BLE'S--built after the model of the Pantheon at Rome. It is one
hundred and twenty French feet in diameter; has twenty-five covered
archways, or arcades, of ten feet in width; of which six are open, as
passages of ingress and egress--corresponding with the like number of
opposite streets. The present cupola (preceded by one almost as large as
that of the Pantheon at Rome) is built of iron and brass--of a curious,
light, and yet sufficiently substantial construction--and is unassailable
by fire. I never passed through this building without seeing it well
stocked with provender; while its area was filled with farmers, who, like
our own, assemble to make the best bargain. Yet let me observe that, owing
to the height of the neighbouring houses, this building loses almost the
whole of its appropriate effect.

Nor should the EXCHANGE, in the _Rue des Filles St. Thomas_, be dismissed
without slight notice and commendation. It is equally simple, magnificent,
and striking: composed of a single row, or peristyle, of Corinthian
pillars, flanking a square of no mean dimensions, and presenting fourteen
pillars in its principal front. At this present moment, it is not quite
finished; but when completed, it promises to be among the most splendid and
the most perfect specimens of public architecture in Paris.[5] Beautiful as
many may think _our_ Exchange, in my humble opinion it has no pretensions
to compete with that at Paris. The HOTEL DE VILLE, near the _Place de
Greve_, is rather in the character of the more ancient buildings in France:
it is exceedingly picturesque, and presents a noble facade. Being situated
amidst the older streets of Paris, nothing can harmonise better with the
surrounding objects. Compared with the metropolis, on its present extended
scale, it is hardly of sufficient importance for the consequence usually
attached to this kind of building; but you must remember that the greater
part of it was built in the sixteenth century, when the capital had
scarcely attained half its present size. The _Place de Greve_ during the
Revolution, was the spot in which the guillotine performed almost all its
butcheries. I walked over it with a hurrying step: fancying the earth to be
yet moist with the blood of so many immolated victims. Of other HOTELS, I
shall mention only those of DE SENS and DE SOUBISE. The entrance into the
former yet exhibits a most picturesque specimen of the architecture of the
early part of the XVIth century. Its interior is devoted to every thing ...
which it ought _not_ to be. The Hotel de Soubise is still a consequential
building. It was sufficiently notorious during the reigns of Charles V. and
VI.: and it owes its present form to the enterprising spirit of Cardinal
Rohan, who purchased it of the Guise family towards the end of the XVIIth
century. There is now, neither pomp nor splendour, nor revelry, within this
vast building. All its aristocratic magnificence is fled; but the antiquary
and the man of curious research console themselves on its possessing
treasures of a more substantial and covetable kind. You are to know that it
contains the _Archives of State_ and the _Royal Printing Office_.

Paris has doubtless good reason to be proud of her public buildings; for
they are numerous, splendid, and commodious; and have the extraordinary
advantage over our own of not being tinted with soot and smoke. Indeed,
when one thinks of the sure invasion of every new stone or brick building
in London, by these enemies of external beauty, one is almost sick at heart
during the work of erection. The lower tier of windows and columns round
St. Paul's have been covered with the dirt and smoke of upwards of a
century: and the fillagree-like embellishments which distinguish the recent
restorations of Henry the VIIth's chapel, in Westminster Abbey, are already
beginning to lose their delicacy of appearance from a similar cause. But I
check myself. I am at Paris--and not in the metropolis of our own country.

A word now for STREET SCENERY. Paris is perhaps here unrivalled: still I
speak under correction--having never seen Edinburgh. But, although
_portions_ of that northern capital, from its undulating or hilly site,
must necessarily present more picturesque appearances, yet, upon the whole,
from the superior size of Paris, there must be more numerous examples of
the kind of scenery of which I am speaking. The specimens are endless. I
select only a few--the more familiar to me. In turning to the left, from
the _Boulevard Montmartre_ or _Poissoniere_, and going towards the _Rue St.
Marc_, or _Rue des Filles St. Thomas_ (as I have been in the habit of
doing, almost every morning, for the last ten days--in my way to the Royal
Library) you leave the _Rue Montmartre_ obliquely to the left. The houses
here seem to run up to the sky; and appear to have been constructed with
the same ease and facility as children build houses of cards. In every
direction about this spot, the houses, built of stone, as they generally
are, assume the most imposing and picturesque forms; and if a Canaletti
resided here, who would condescend to paint without water and wherries,
some really magnificent specimens of this species of composition might be
executed--equally to the credit of the artist and the place.

If you want old fashioned houses, you must lounge in the long and parallel
streets of _St. Denis_ and _St. Martin_; but be sure that you choose dry
weather for the excursion. Two hours of heavy rain (as I once witnessed)
would cause a little rushing rivulet in the centre of these streets--and
you could only pass from one side to the other by means of a plank. The
absence of _trottoirs_--- or foot-pavement--is indeed here found to be a
most grievous defect. With the exception of the _Place Vendome_ and the
_Rue de la Paix_, where something like this sort of pavement prevails,
Paris presents you with hardly any thing of the kind; so that, methinks, I
hear you say, "what though your Paris be gayer and more grand, our London
is larger and more commodious." Doubtless this is a fair criticism. But
from the _Marche des Innocens_--a considerable space, where they sell
chiefly fruit and vegetables,[6]--(and which reminded me something of the
market-places of Rouen) towards the _Hotel de Ville_ and the _Hotel de
Soubise_, you will meet with many extremely curious and interesting
specimens of house and street scenery: while, as I before observed to you,
the view of the houses and streets in the _Isle St. Louis_, from the _Pont
des Ars_, the _Quai de Conti_, the _Pont Neuf_, or the _Quai des
Augustins_--or, still better, the _Pont Royal_--is absolutely one of the
grandest and completest specimens of metropolitan scenery which can be
contemplated. Once more: go as far as the _Pont Louis XVI._, cast your eye
down to the left; and observe how magnificently the Seine is flanked by the
Thuileries and the Louvre. Surely, it is but a sense of justice and a love
of truth which compel an impartial observer to say, that this is a view of
regal and public splendor--without a parallel in our own country!

The _Rue de Richelieu_ is called the Bond-street of Paris. Parallel with
it, is the _Rue Vivienne_. They are both pleasant streets; especially the
former, which is much longer, and is rendered more striking by containing
some of the finest hotels in Paris. Hosiers, artificial flower makers,
clock-makers, and jewellers, are the principal tradesmen in the Rue de
Richelieu; but it has no similarity with Bond-street. The houses are of
stone, and generally very lofty--while the _Academie de Musique_[7] and the
_Bibliotheque du Roi_ are public buildings of such consequence and capacity
(especially the former) that it is absurd to name the street in which they
are situated with our own. The Rue Vivienne is comparatively short; but it
is pleasing, from the number of flowers, shrubs, and fruits, brought
thither from the public markets for sale. No doubt the _Place Vendome_ and
the _Rue de la Paix_ claim precedence, on the score of magnificence and
comfort, to either of these, or to any other streets; but to my taste there
is nothing (next to the Boulevards) which is so thoroughly gratifying as
the Rue de Richelieu. Is it because some few hundred thousand _printed
volumes_ are deposited therein? But of all these, the _Rue St. Honore_,
with its faubourg so called, is doubtless the most distinguished and
consequential. It seems to run from west to east entirely through Paris;
and is considered, on the score of length, as more than a match for our
Oxford street.

It may be so; but if the houses are loftier, the street is much narrower;
and where, again, is your foot-pavement--to protect you from the eternal
movements of fiacre, cabriolet, voiture and diligence? Besides, the
undulating line of our Oxford-street presents, to the tasteful observer, a
sight--perfectly unrivalled of its kind--especially if it be witnessed on a
clear night, when its thousand gas-lighted lamps below emulate the starry
lustre of the heavens above! To an inexperienced eye, this has the effect
of enchantment. Add to the houses of Oxford-street but two stories, and the
appearance of this street, in the day time, would be equally imposing: to
which add--what can never be added--the atmosphere of Paris!

You will remark that, all this time, I have been wholly silent about the
_Palace de Luxembourg_, with its beautiful though flat gardens--of tulips,
jonquils, roses, wall flowers, lilac and orange trees--its broad and narrow
walks--its terraces and statues. The facade, in a line with the _Rue
Vaugirard_, has a grand effect--in every point of view. But the south
front, facing the gardens, is extremely beautiful and magnificent; while
across the gardens, and in front,--some short English mile--stands the
OBSERVATORY. Yet fail not to visit the interior square of the palace, for
it is well worth your notice and admiration. This building is now the
_Chambre des Pairs_. Its most celebrated ornament was the famous suite of
paintings, by Rubens, descriptive of the history of Henry IV. These now
adorn the gallery of the Louvre. It is a pity that this very tasteful
structure--which seems to be built of the choicest stone--should be so far
removed from what may be called the fashionable part of the city. It is in
consequence reluctantly visited by our countrymen; although a lover of
botany, or a florist, will not fail to procure two or three roots of the
different species of _tulips_, which, it is allowed, blow here in uncommon
luxuriance and splendor.

The preceding is, I am aware, but a feeble and partial sketch--compared
with what a longer residence, and a temperature more favourable to exercise
(for we are half scorched up with heat, positive and reflected)--would
enable me to make. But "where are my favourite ECCLESIASTICAL EDIFICES?"
methinks I hear you exclaim. Truly you shall know as much as I know myself;
which is probably little enough. Of NOTRE-DAME, the west front, with its
marygold window, is striking both from its antiquity and richness. It is
almost black from age; but the alto-relievos, and especially those above
the doors, stand out in almost perfect condition. These ornaments are
rather fine of their kind. There is, throughout the whole of this west
front, a beautiful keeping; and the towers are, _here_, somewhat more
endurable--and therefore somewhat in harmony. Over the north-transept door,
on the outside, is a figure of the Virgin--once holding the infant Jesus in
her arms. Of the latter, only the feet remain. The drapery of this figure
is in perfectly good taste: a fine specimen of that excellent art which
prevailed towards the end of the XIIIth century. Above, is an alto-relievo
subject of the slaughter of the Innocents. The soldiers are in quilted
armour. I entered the cathedral from the western door, during service-time.
A sight of the different clergymen engaged in the office, filled me with
melancholy--and made me predict sad things of what was probably to come to
pass! These clergymen were old, feeble, wretchedly attired in their
respective vestments--and walked and sung in a tremulous and faltering
manner. The architectural effect in the interior is not very imposing:
although the solid circular pillars of the nave--the double aisles round
the choir--and the old basso-relievo representations of the life of Christ,
upon the exterior of the walls of the choir--cannot fail to afford an
antiquary very singular satisfaction. The choir appeared to be not unlike
that of St. Denis.

The next Gothic church, in size and importance, is that of St. GERVAIS--
situated to the left, in the Rue de Monceau. It has a very lofty nave, but
the interior is exceedingly flat and divested of ornament. The pillars have
scarcely any capitals. The choir is totally destitute of effect. Some of
the stained glass is rich and old, but a great deal has been stolen or
demolished during the Revolution. There is a good large modern picture, in
one of the side chapels to the right: and yet a more modern one, much
inferior, on the opposite side. In almost every side chapel, and in the
confessionals, the priests were busily engaged in the catechetical
examination of young people previous to the first Communion on the
following sabbath, which was the Fete-Dieu. The western front is wholly
Grecian--perhaps about two hundred years old. It is too lofty for its
width--but has a grand effect, and is justly much celebrated. Yet the
_situation_ of this fine old Gothic church is among the most wretched of
those in Paris. It is preserved from suffocation, only by holding it head
so high. Next in importance to St. Gervais, is the Gothic church of St.
EUSTACHE: a perfect specimen, throughout, of that adulterated style of
Gothic architecture (called its _restoration!_) which prevailed at the
commencement of the reign of Francis I. Faulty, and even meretricious, as
is the whole of the interior, the choir will not fail to strike you with
surprise and gratification. It is light, rich, and lofty. This church is
very large, but not so capacious as St. Gervais--while situation is, if
possible, still more objectionable.

Let me not forget my two old favourite churches of ST. GERMAIN DES PRES,
_and St. Genevieve_; although of the latter I hardly know whether a hasty
glimpse, both of the exterior and interior, be not sufficient; the greater
part having been destroyed during the Revolution.[8] The immediate vicinity
of the former is sadly choaked by stalls and shops--and the west-front has
been cruelly covered by modern appendages. It is the church dearest to
antiquaries; and with reason.[9] I first visited it on a Sunday, when that
part of the Service was performed which required the fullest intonations of
the organ. The effect altogether was very striking. The singular pillars--
of which the capitals are equally massive and grotesque, being sometimes
composed of human beings, and sometimes of birds and beasts, especially
towards the choir--the rising up and sitting down of the congregation, and
the yet more frequent movements of the priests--the swinging of the
censers--and the parade of the vergers, dressed in bag wigs, with broad red
sashes of silk, and silk stockings--but, above all, the most scientifically
touched, as well as the deepest and loudest toned, organ I ever heard--
perfectly bewildered and amazed me! Upon the dispersion of the
congregation--which very shortly followed this religious excitation--I had
ample leisure to survey every part of this curious old structure; which
reminded me, although upon a much larger scale, of the peculiarities of St.
Georges de Bocherville, and Notre Dame at Guibray. Certainly, very much of
this church is of the twelfth century--and as I am not writing to our
friend P*** I will make bold to say that some portions of it yet "smack
strongly" of the eleventh.

Nearer to my residence, and of a kindred style of architecture, is the
church of ST. GERMAIN AUX AUXERROIS. The west front or porch is yet sound
and good. Nothing particularly strikes you on the entrance, but there are
some interesting specimens of rich old stained glass in the windows of the
transepts. The choir is completely and cruelly modernised. In the side
chapels are several good modern paintings; and over an altar of twisted
columns, round which ivy leaves, apparently composed of ivory, are
creeping, is a picture of three figures in the flames of purgatory. This
side-chapel is consecrated to the offering up of orisons "_for the souls in
purgatory_." It is gloomy and repulsive. Death's heads and thigh bones are
painted, in white colours, upon the stained wall; and in the midst of all
these fearful devices, I saw three young ladies intensely occupied in their
devotions at the railing facing the altar. Here again, I observed priests
examining young people in their catechism; and others in confessionals,
receiving the confessions of the young of both sexes, previous to their
taking the first sacrament on the approaching _Fete-Dieu_.

Contiguous to the Sorbonne church, there stands, raising its neatly
constructed dome aloft in air, the _Nouvelle Eglise Ste. Genevieve_, better
known by the name of the PANTHEON. The interior presents to my eye the most
beautiful and perfect specimen of Grecian architecture with which I am
acquainted. In the crypt are seen the tombs of French warriors; and upon
the pavement above, is a white marble statue of General Leclerc (brother in
law of Bonaparte,) who died in the expedition to St. Domingo. This, statue
is too full of conceit and affectation both in attitude and expression. The
interior of the building is about 370 English feet in length, by 270 in
width; but it is said that the foundation is too weak. From the gallery,
running along the bottom of the dome--the whole a miniature representation
of our St. Paul's--you have a sort of Panorama of Paris; but not, I think,
a very favourable one. The absence of sea-coal fume strikes you very
agreeably; but, for picturesque effect, I could not help thinking of the
superior beauty of the panorama of Rouen from the heights of Mont Ste.
Catharine. It appears to me that the small lantern on the top of the dome
wants a finishing apex.[10]

Yonder majestic portico forms the west front of the church called St.
SULPICE ... It is at once airy and grand. There are two tiers of pillars,
of which this front is composed: the lower is Doric; the upper Ionic: and
each row, as I am told, is nearly forty French feet in height, exclusively
of their entablatures, each of ten feet. We have nothing like this,
certainly, as the front of a parish church, in London. When I except St.
Paul's, such exception is made in reference to the most majestic piece of
architectural composition, which, to my eye, the wit of man hath yet
devised. The architect of the magnificent front of St. Sulpice was
SERVANDONI; and a street hard by (in which Dom Brial, the father of French
history, resides) takes its name from this architect. There are two
towers--one at each end of this front,--about two hundred and twenty feet
in height from the pavement: harmonising well with the general style of
architecture, but of which, that to the south (to the best of my
recollection) is left in an unaccountably, if not shamefully, unfinished
state.[11] These towers are said to be about one _toise_ higher than those
of Notre Dame. The interior of this church is hardly less imposing than its
exterior. The vaulted roofs are exceedingly lofty; but for the length of
the nave, and more especially the choir, the transepts are
disproportionably short. Nor are there sufficiently prominent ornaments to
give relief to the massive appearance of the sides. These sides are
decorated by fluted pilasters of the Corinthian order; which, for so large
and lofty a building, have a tame effect. There is nothing like the huge,
single, insulated column, or the clustered slim pilasters, that separate
the nave from the side aisles of the Gothic churches of the early and
middle ages.

The principal altar, between the nave and the choir, is admired for its
size, and grandeur of effect; but it is certainly ill-placed, and is
perhaps too ornamental, looking like a detached piece which does not
harmonise with the surrounding objects. Indeed, most of the altars in
French churches want simplicity and appropriate effect: and the whole of
the interior of the choir is (perhaps to my fastidious eye only,) destitute
of that quiet solemn character, which ought always to belong to places of
worship. Rich, minute, and elaborate as are many of the Gothic choirs of
our own country, they are yet in harmony; and equally free from a frivolous
or unappropriate effect. Behind the choir, is the Chapel of Our Lady: which
is certainly both splendid and imposing. Upon the ceiling is represented
the Assumption of the Virgin, and the walls are covered with a profusion of
gilt ornament, which, upon the whole, has a very striking effect. In a
recess, above the altar, is a sculptured representation of the Virgin and
Infant Christ, in white marble, of a remarkably high polish: nor are the
countenances of the mother and child divested of sweetness of expression.
They are represented upon a large globe, or with the world at their feet:
upon the top of which, slightly coiled, lies the "bruised" or dead serpent.
The light, in front of the spectator, from a concealed window, (a
contrivance to which the French seem partial) produces a sort of magical
effect. I should add, that this is the largest parochial church in Paris;
and that its organ has been pronounced to be matchless.

The rival churches of St. Sulpice--rival ones, rather from similarity of
structure, than extent of dimensions--are the ORATOIRE and St. ROCH: both
situated in the Rue St. Honore. St. Roch is doubtless a very fine
building--with a well-proportioned front--and a noble flight of steps; but
the interior is too plain and severe for my taste. The walls are decorated
by unfluted pilasters, with capitals scarcely conformable to any one order
of architecture. The choir however is lofty, and behind it, in Our Lady's
Chapel if I remember rightly, there is a striking piece of sculpture, of
the Crucifixion, sunk into a rock, which receives the light from an
invisible aperture as at St. Sulpice. To the right, or rather behind this
chapel, there is another--called the _Chapel of Calvary_,--in which you
observe a celebrated piece of sculpture, of rather colossal dimensions, of
the entombment of Christ. The dead Saviour is borne to the sepulchre by
Joseph of Arimathea, St. John, and the three Maries. The name of the
sculptor is _Deseine_. Certainly you cannot but be struck with the effect
of such representations--which accounts for these two chapels being a great
deal more attended, than the choir or the nave of the church. It is right
however to add, that the pictures here are preferable to those at St.
Sulpice: and the series of bas-reliefs, descriptive of the principal events
in the life of Christ, is among the very best specimens of art, of that
species, which Paris can boast of.

Very different from either of these interiors is that of _St. Philippe du
Roule_; which presents you with a single insulated row of fluted Ionic
pillars, on each side of the nave; very airy, yet impressive and imposing.
It is much to my taste; and I wish such a plan were more generally adopted
in the interiors of Grecian-constructed churches. The choir, the altar ...
the whole is extremely simple and elegant. Nor must the roof be omitted to
be particularly mentioned. It is an arch, constructed of wood; upon a plan
originally invented by Philibert Delorme--so well known in the annals of
art in the sixteenth century. The whole is painted in stone colour, and may
deceive the most experienced eye. This beautiful church was built after the
designs of Chalgrin, about the year 1700; and is considered to be a purer
resemblance of the antique than any other in Paris. This church, well worth
your examination, is situated in a quarter rarely visited by our
countrymen--in the _Rue du Faubourg du Roule_, not far from the barriers.

Not very remotely connected with the topic of CHURCHES, is that of the
SABBATHS ... as spent in Paris. They are nearly the same throughout all
France. As Bonaparte had no respect for religion itself, so he had less for
the forms connected with the upholding of it. Parades, battles, and
campaigns--were all that he cared about: and the Parisians, if they
supplied him with men and money--the _materiel_ for the execution of these
objects--were left to pray, preach, dance, or work, just as they pleased on
the Sabbath day. The present King,[12] as you well know, attempted the
introduction of something like an _English Sabbath_: but it would not do.
When the French read and understand GRAHAME[13] as well as they do THOMSON,
they will peradventure lend a ready and helping hand towards the completion
of this laudable plan. At present, there is much which hurts the eye and
ear of a well-educated and well-principled Englishman. There is a partial
shutting up of the shops before twelve; but after mid-day the shop-windows
are uniformly closed throughout Paris. Meanwhile the cart, the cabriolet,
the crier of herbs and of other marketable produce--the sound of the whip
or of the carpenter's saw and hammer--the shelling of peas in the open air,
and the plentiful strewing of the pod hard by--together with sundry, other
offensive and littering accompaniments--all strike you as disagreeable
deviations from what you have been accustomed to witness at home. Add to
this, the half-dirty attire--the unshaven beard of the men, and the unkempt
locks of the women--produce further revolting sensations. It is not till
past mid-day that the noise of labour ceases, and that the toilette is put
into a complete state for the captivation of the beholder. By four or five
o'clock the streets become half thinned. On a Sunday, every body rushes
into the country. The tradesman has his little villa, and the gentleman and
man of fortune his more capacious rural domain; and those, who aspire
neither to the one or the other, resort to the _Bois de Boulogne_ and the
_Champs Elysees_, or to the gardens of _Beaujon_, and _Tivoli_--or to the
yet more attractive magnificence of the palace and fountains of
_Versailles_--where, in one or the other of these places, they carouse, or
disport themselves--in promenades, or dancing groups--till

   ... Majores.. cadunt de montibus umbrae.

This, generally and fairly speaking, is a summer Sabbath in the metropolis
of France.

Unconscionable as you may have deemed the length of this epistle, I must
nevertheless extend it by the mention of what I conceive to be a very
essential feature both of beauty and utility in the street scenery of
Paris. It is of the FOUNTAINS that I am now about to speak; and of some of
which a slight mention has been already made. I yet adhere to the
preference given to that in the _Palais Royal_; considered with reference
to the management of the water. It is indeed a purely aqueous exhibition,
in which architecture and sculpture have nothing to do. Not so are the more
imposing fountains of the MARCHE DES INNOCENS, DE GRENELLE, and the
BOULEVARD BONDY. For the first of these,[14] the celebrated _Lescot_, abbe
de Clagny, was the designer of the general form; and the more celebrated
Jean Goujon the sculptor of the figures in bas-relief. It was re-touched
and perfected in 1551, and originally stood in the angle of the two
streets, of _aux Fers_ and _St. Denis_, presenting only two facades to the
beholder. It was restored and beautified in 1708; and in 1788 it changed
both its form and its position by being transported to the present spot--
the _Marche des Innocens_--the market for vegetables. Two other similar
sides were then added, making it a square: but the original performances of
Goujon, which are considered almost as his master-piece, attract infinitely
more admiration than the more recent ones of Pajou. Goujon's figures are
doubtless very delicately and successfully executed. The water bubbles up
in the centre of the square, beneath the arch, in small sheets, or masses;
and its first and second subsequent falls, also in sheets, have a very
beautiful effect. They are like pieces of thin, transparent ice, tumbling
upon each other; but the _lead_, of which the lower half of the fountain is
composed--as the reservoir of the water--might have been advantageously
exchanged for _marble_. The lion at each corner of the pedestal, squirting
water into a sarcophagus-shaped reservoir, has a very absurd appearance.
Upon the whole, this fountain is well deserving of particular attention.
The inscription upon it is FONTIVM NYMPHIS; but perhaps, critically
speaking, it is now in too exposed a situation for the character of it's
ornaments. A retired, rural, umbrageous recess, beneath larch and pine--
whose boughs

  Wave high and murmur in the hollow wind--

seems to be the kind of position fitted for the reception of a fountain of
this character.

The FONTAINE DE GRENELLE is almost entirely architectural; and gives an
idea of a public office, rather than of a conduit. You look above--to the
right and the left--but no water appears. At last, almost by accident, you
look down, quite at its base, and observe two insignificant streams
trickling from the head of an animal. The central figure in front is a
representation of the city of Paris: the recumbent figures, on each side,
represent, the one the Seine, the other the Marne. Above, there are four
figures which represent the four Seasons. This fountain, the work of
Bouchardon, was erected in 1739 upon the site of what formed a part of an
old convent. A more simple, and a more striking fountain, to my taste, is
that of the ECOLE DE CHIRURGIE; in which a comparatively large column of
water rushes down precipitously between two Doric pillars--which form the
central ones of four--in an elegant facade.

Yet more simple, more graceful, and more capacious, is the fountain of the
BOULEVARD BONDY--which I first saw sparkling beneath the lustre of a full
moon. This is, in every sense of the word, a fountain. A constant but
gentle undulation of water, from three aqueous terraces, surmounted by
three basins, gradually diminishing in size, strike you with peculiar
gratification--view it from whatever quarter you will: but seen in the
neighbourhood of _trees_, the effect, in weather like this, is absolutely
heart-refreshing. The only objectionable part of this elegant structure, on
the score of art, are the lions, and their positions. In the first place,
it is difficult to comprehend why the mouth of a _lion_ is introduced as a
channel for the transmission of water; and, in the second place, these
lions should have occupied the basement portion of the structure. This
beautiful fountain, of which the water is supplied by the _Canal d'Ourcq_,
was finished only about seven or eight years ago. Nor let the FOUNTAIN OF
TRIUMPH or VICTORY, in the _Place du Chatelet_, be forgotten. It is a
column, surmounted by a gilt statue of Victory, with four figures towards
its pedestal. The four jets-d'eau, from its base,--which are sufficiently
insignificant--empty themselves into a circular basin; but the shaft of the
column, to my eye, is not free from affectation. The names of some of
Bonaparte's principal victories are inscribed upon that part of the column
which faces the Pont au Change. There is a classical air of elegance about
this fountain, which is fifty feet in height.

But where is the ELEPHANT Fountain?--methinks I hear you exclaim. It is yet
little more than in embryo: that is to say, the plaster-cast of it only is
visible--with the model, on a smaller scale, completed in all its parts, by
the side of it. It is really a stupendous affair.[15] On entering the
temporary shed erected for its construction, on the site of the Bastille, I
was almost breathless with astonishment for a moment. Imagine an enormous
figure of the unwieldy elephant, _full fifty feet high!_ You see it, in the
front, foreshortened--as you enter; and as the head is the bulkiest portion
of the animal, you may imagine something of the probable resulting effect.
Certainly it is most imposing. The visitor, who wishes to make himself
acquainted with the older, and more original, national character of the
French--whether as respects manners, dresses, domestic occupations, and
public places of resort--will take up his residence in the _Rue du Bac_, or
at the _Hotel des Bourbons_; within twenty minutes walk of the more curious
objects which are to be found in the Quartiers Saint Andre des Arcs, du
Luxembourg, and Saint Germain des Pres. Ere he commence his morning
perambulations, he will look well at his map, and to what is described, in
the route which he is to take, in the works of Landon and of Legrand, or of
other equally accurate topographers. Two things he ought invariably to bear
in mind: the first, not to undertake too much, for the sake of saying how
_many_ things he has seen:--and the second, to make himself thoroughly
master of what he _does_ see. All this is very easily accomplished: and a
fare of thirty sous will take you, at starting, to almost any part of
Paris, however remote: from whence you may shape your course homewards at
leisure, and with little fatigue. Such a visitor will, however, sigh, ere
he set out on his journey, on being told that the old Gothic church of _St.
Andre-des-Arcs_--the Abbey of _St. Victor_--the churches of the
_Bernardins_, and of _St. Etienne des Pres_, the _Cloisters_ of _the
Cordeliers_, and the _Convent of the Celestins_ ... exist no longer ... or,
that their remains are mere shadows of shades! But in the three quarters of
Paris, above mentioned, he will gather much curious information--in spite
of the havoc and waste which the Revolution has made; and on his return to
his own country he will reflect, with pride and satisfaction, on the result
of his enterprise and perseverance.

To my whimsically formed taste, OLD PARIS has in it very much to delight,
and afford valuable information. Not that I would decry the absolute
splendor, gaiety, comfort, and interminable variety, which prevail in its
more modern and fashionable quarters. And certainly one may fairly say,
that, on either side the Seine, Paris is a city in which an Englishman,--
who is resolved to be in good humour with all about him, and to shew that
civility to others which he is sure to receive from the better educated
classes of society here--cannot fail to find himself pleased, perfectly at
ease, and well contented with his fare. Compared with the older part of
London, the more ancient division of Paris is infinitely more interesting,
and of a finer architectural construction. The conical roofs every now and
then remind you of the times of Francis I.; and the clustered arabesques,
upon pilasters, or running between the bolder projections of the facades,
confirm you in the chronology of the buildings. But time, caprice, fashion,
or poverty, will, in less than half a century, materially change both the
substance and surfaces of things. It is here, as at Rouen--you bewail the
work of destruction which has oftentimes converted cloisters into
workshops, and consecrated edifices into warehouses of every description.
Human nature and the fate of human works are every where the same. Let two
more centuries revolve, and the THUILERIES and the LOUVRE may possibly be
as the BASTILLE and the TEMPLE.

Such, to my feelings, is Paris--considered only with reference to its
_local_: for I have really done little more than perambulate its streets,
and survey its house-tops--with the important exceptions to be detailed in
the succeeding letters from hence. Of the treasures contained _beneath_
some of those "housetops"--more especially of such as are found in the
shape of a BOOK--whether as a MS. or a Printed Volume--prepare to receive
some particulars in my next.


[1] [Several Notes in this volume having reference to MONS. CRAPELET, a
    Printer of very considerable eminence at Paris, it may be proper to
    inform the Reader that that portion of this Tour, which may be said to
    have a more exclusive reference to France, usually speaking--including
    the notice of Strasbourg--was almost entirely translated by Mons.
    Crapelet himself. An exception however must be made to those parts
    which relate to the _King's Private Library_ at Paris, and to
    _Strasbourg_: these having been executed by different pens, evidently
    in the hands of individuals of less wrongheadedness and acrimony of
    feeling than the Parisian Printer. Mons. Crapelet has prefixed a
    Preface to his labours, in which he tells the world, that, using my
    more favourite metaphorical style of expression, "a CRUSADE has risen
    up against the INFIDEL DIBDIN."

    Metaphorical as may be this style, it is yet somewhat alarming: for,
    most assuredly, when I entered and quitted the "beau pays" of France,
    I had imagined myself to have been a courteous, a grateful, and, under
    all points of view, an ORTHODOX Visitor. It seems however, from the
    language of the French Typographer, that I acted under a gross
    delusion; and that it was necessary to have recourse to his sharp-set
    sickle to cut away all the tares which I had sown in the soil of his
    country. Upon the motive and the merit of his labours, I have already
    given my unbiassed opinion.[A] Here, it is only necessary to observe,
    that I have not, consciously, falsified his opinions, or undervalued
    his worth. Let the Reader judge between us.

        [A] Vide Preface.

[2] [They have now entirely lost the recollection, as well as the sight, of
    them.]

[3] ["The Parisians would doubtless very willingly get rid of such a horrid
    spectacle in the streets and places of the Metropolis: besides, it is
    not unattended with danger to the Actors themselves."--CRAPELET.]

[4] ["And will continue to be so, it is feared--to the regret of all
    Frenchmen--for a long time. It is however the beginning of a new
    reign. The building of some new Edifices will doubtless be undertaken.
    But if the King were to order the _finishing_ of all the public
    Buildings of Paris, the epoch of the reign of Charles X. would
    assuredly be the most memorable for Arts, and the embellishment of the
    Capital." CRAPELET. 1825.]

[5] [It is now completed: but seven years elapsed, after the above
    description, before the building was in all respects considered to be
    finished.]

[6] [A most admirable view of this Market Place, with its picturesque
    fountain in the centre, was painted by the younger Mr. Chalon, and
    exhibited at Somerset House. A well executed _print_ of such a
    thoroughly characteristic performance might, one would imagine, sell
    prosperously on either side of the channel.]

[7] [This building, which may perhaps be better known as that of the
    _Opera_, is now rased to the ground--in consequence of the
    assassination of the Duke de Berri there, in February, 1820, on his
    stepping into his carriage on quitting the Opera. But five years were
    suffered to elapse before the work of demolition was quite completed.
    And when will the monument to the Duke's memory be raised?--CRAPELET.]

[8] [It is now entirely demolished, to make way for a large and commodious
    Street which gives a complete view of the church of St. Stephen.
    CRAPELET.]

[9] The views of it, as it appeared in the XVIth century, represent it
    nearly surrounded by a wall and a moat. It takes its name as having
    been originally situated _in the fields_.

[10] [Two years ago was placed, upon the top of this small lantern, a gilt
    cross, thirty-eight feet high: 41 of English measurement: and the
    church has been consecrated to the Catholic service. CRAPELET. Thus,
    the criticism of an English traveller, in 1818, was not entirely void
    of foundation.]

[11] [Our public buildings, which have continued long in an unfinished
    state, strike the eyes of foreigners more vividly than they do our
    own: but it is impossible to face the front of St. Sulpice without
    partaking of the sentiment of the author. CRAPELET.]

[12] [Louis XVIII.]

[13] [_read and understand_ GRAHAME.]--Mr. Grahame is both a very readable
    and understandable author. He has reason to be proud of his poem
    called the SABBATH: for it is one of the sweetest and one of the
    purest of modern times. His _scene_ however is laid in the country,
    and not in the metropolis. The very opening of this poem refreshes the
    heart--and prepares us for the more edifying portions of it, connected
    with the performance of the religious offices of our country. This
    beautiful work will LIVE as long as sensibility, and taste, and a
    virtuous feeling, shall possess the bosoms of a British Public.

[14] See the note p. 20, ante.

[15] It is now completed.




_LETTER II._

GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE BIBLIOTHEQUE DU ROI. THE LIBRARIANS.


_Hotel des Colonies, Rue de Richelieu_.

The moment is at length arrived when you are to receive from me an account
of some of the principal treasures contained in the ROYAL LIBRARY of Paris.
I say "_some_":--because, in an epistolary communication, consistently with
my time, and general objects of research--it must be considered only as a
slight selection, compared with what a longer residence, and a more general
examination of the contents of such a collection, might furnish. Yet,
limited as my view may have been, the objects of that view are at once rich
and rare, and likely to afford all true sons of BIBLIOMANIA and VIRTU the
most lively gratification. This is a bold avowal: but I fear not to make
it, and: the sequel shall be the test of its modesty and truth.

You observe, I have dated my letter from a different quarter. In fact, the
distance of my former residence from the Bibliotheque du Roi--coupled with
the oppressive heat of the weather--rendered my morning excursions thither
rather uncomfortable; and instead of going to work with elastic spirits,
and an untired frame, both Mr. Lewis and myself felt jaded and oppressed
upon our arrival. We are now, on the contrary, scarcely fifty yards from
the grand door of entrance into the library. But this is only tantalizing
you. To the LIBRARY, therefore, at once let us go. The exterior and
interior, as to architectural appearance, are rather of a sorry
description: heavy; comparatively low, without ornament, and of a dark and
dingy tint. Towards the street, it has the melancholy air of a workhouse.
But none of the apartments, in which the books are contained, look into
this street; so that, consequently, little inconvenience is experienced
from the incessant motion and rattling of carts and carriages--the Rue de
Richelieu being probably the most frequented in Paris. Yet, repulsive as
may be this exterior, it was observed to me--on my suggesting what a fine
situation the quadrangle of the Louvre would make for the reception of the
royal library--that, it might be questioned whether even _that_ quadrangle
were large enough to contain it;--and that the present building, however
heavy and ungracious of aspect, was better calculated for its present
purpose than probably any other in Paris. In the centre of the edifice--for
it is a square, or rather a parallelogram-shaped building--stands a bronze
naked figure of Diana; stiff and meagre both in design and execution. It is
of the size of life; but surely a statue of _Minerva_ would have been a
little more appropriate? On entering the principal door, in the street just
mentioned, you turn to the right, and mount a large stone staircase--after
attending to the request, printed in large characters, of "_Essuyez vos
Souliers_"--as fixed against the wall. This entrance goes directly to the
collection of PRINTED BOOKS. On reaching the first floor, you go straight
forward, within folding doors; and the first room, of considerable extent,
immediately receives you. The light is uniformly admitted by large windows,
to the right, looking into the quadrangle before mentioned.

You pass through this room--where scarcely any body lingers--and enter the
second, where are placed the EDITIONES PRINCIPES, and other volumes printed
in the fifteenth century. To an _experienced_ eye, the first view of the
contents of this second room is absolutely magical; Such copies of such
rare, precious, magnificent, and long-sought after impressions!... It is
fairy-land throughout. There stands the _first Homer_, unshorn by the
binder; a little above, is the first _Roman edition of Eustathius's_
Commentary upon that poet, in gorgeous red morocco, but printed UPON
VELLUM! A Budaeus _Greek Lexicon_ (Francis I.'s own copy) also UPON VELLUM!
The _Virgils, Ovids, Plinies_ ... and, above all, the _Bibles_--But I check
myself; in order to conduct you regularly through the apartments, ere you
sit down with me before each volume which I may open. In this second-room
are two small tables, rarely occupied, but at one or the other of which I
was stationed (by the kind offices of M. Van Praet) for fourteen days--with
almost every thing that was exquisite and rare, in the old book-way, behind
and before me. Let us however gradually move onwards. You pass into the
third room. Here is the grand rendezvous of readers. Six circular or rather
oval tables, each capable of accommodating twelve students, and each
generally occupied by the full number, strike your eye in a very pleasing
manner, in the centre of this apparently interminable vista of printed
volumes.

But I must call your particular attention to the _foreground_ of this
magical book-view. To the left of this third room, on entering, you observe
a well-dressed Gentleman (of somewhat shorter stature than the author of
this description) busied behind a table; taking down and putting up
volumes: inscribing names, and numbers, and titles, in a large folio
volume; giving orders on all sides; and putting several pairs of legs into
motion in consequence of those orders--while his own are perhaps the least
spared of any. This gentleman is no less a personage than the celebrated
Monsieur VAN PRAET; one of the chief librarians in the department of the
printed books. His aspect is mild and pleasant; while his smart attire
frequently forms a striking contrast to habiliments and personal
appearances of a very different, and less conciliating description, by
which he is surrounded.[16] M. Van Praet must be now approaching his
sixtieth year; but his age sits bravely upon him--for his step is rapid and
firm, and his physiognomical expression indicative of a much less
protracted period of existence.[17] He is a Fleming by birth; and, even in
shewing his first Eustathius, or first Pliny, UPON VELLUM, you may observe
the natural enthusiasm of a Frenchman tempered by the graver emotions of a
native of the Netherlands.

This distinguished Bibliographer (of whom, somewhat more in a future
epistle) has now continued nearly forty years in his present situation; and
when infirmity, or other causes, shall compel him to quit it, France will
never replace him by one possessing more appropriate talents! He doats upon
the objects committed to his trust. He lives almost entirely among his dear
books ... either on the first floor or on the ground floor: for when the
hour of departure, two o'clock, arrives, M. Van Praet betakes him to the
quieter book realms below--where, surrounded by _Grolier, De Thou_, and
_Diane de Poictiers_, copies, he disports him till his dinner hour of four
or five--and 'as the evening shades prevail,' away hies he to his favourite
'_Theatre des Italiens_,' and the scientific treat of Italian music. This I
know, however--and this I will say--in regard to the amiable and excellent
gentleman under description--that, if I were King of France, Mons. Van
Praet should be desired to sit in a roomy, morocco-bottomed, mahogany arm
chair--not to stir therefrom--but to issue out his edicts, for the delivery
of books, to the several athletic myrmidons under his command. Of course
there must be occasional exceptions to this rigid, but upon the whole
salutary, "Ordonnance du Roy." Indeed I have reason to mention a most
flattering exception to it--in my own favour: for M. Van Praet would come
into the second room, (just mentioned) and with his own hands supply me
with half a score volumes at a time--of such as I wished to examine. But,
generally speaking, this worthy and obliging creature is too lavish of his
own personal exertions. He knows, to be sure, all the bye-passes, and
abrupt ascents and descents; and if he be out of sight--in a moment,
through some secret aperture, he returns as quickly through another equally
unseen passage. Upon an average, I set his bibliomaniacal peregrinations
down at the rate of a full French league per day. It is the absence of all
pretension and quackery--the quiet, unobtrusive manner in which he opens
his well-charged battery of information upon you--but, more than all, the
glorious honours which are due to him, for having assisted to rescue the
book treasures of the Abbey of St. Germain des Pres from destruction,
during the horrors of the Revolution--that cannot fail to secure to him the
esteem of the living, and the gratitude of posterity.

[Illustration: GOLD MEDAL OF LOUIS XII.
From the Cabinet des Medailles at Paris.]

We must now leave this well occupied and richly furnished chamber, and pass
on to the fourth room--in the centre of which is a large raised bronze
ornament, representing Apollo and the Muses--surrounded by the more eminent
literary characters of France in the seventeenth century. It is raised to
the glory of the grand monarque Louis XIV. and the figure of Apollo is
intended for that of his Majesty. The whole is a palpable failure: a
glaring exhibition of bad French taste. Pegasus, the Muses, rocks, and
streams, are all scattered about in a very confused manner; without
connection, and of course without effect. Even the French allow it to be
"mesquin, et de mauvais gout." But let me be methodical. As you enter this
fourth room, you observe, opposite--before you turn to the right--a door,
having the inscription of CABINET DES MEDAILLES. This door however is open
only twice in the week; when the cabinet is freely and most conveniently
shewn. Of its contents--in part, precious beyond comparison--this is the
place to say only one little word or two: for really there would be no end
of detail were I to describe even its most remarkable treasures. Francis I.
and his son Henry II. were among its earliest patrons; when the cabinet was
deposited in the Louvre. The former enriched it with a series of valuable
gold medals, and among them with one of Louis XII., his predecessor; which
has not only the distinction of being beautifully executed, but of being
the largest, if not the first of its kind in France.[18]

The specimens of Greek art, in coins, and other small productions, are
equally precious and select. Vases, shields, gems, and cameos--the greater
part of which are described in Caylus's well-known work--are perfectly
enchanting. But the famous AGAT of the STE. CHAPELLE--supposed to be the
largest in the world, and which has been engraved by Giradet in a manner
perfectly unrivalled--will not fail to rivet your attention, and claim your
most unqualified commendation. The sardonyx, called the VASE of PTOLEMY, is
another of the great objects of attraction in the room where we are now
tarrying--and beautiful, and curious, and precious, it unquestionably is.
Doubtless, in such a chamber as this, the classical archaeologist will gaze
with no ordinary emotions, and meditate with no ordinary satisfaction. But
I think I hear the wish escape him--as he casts an attentive eye over the
whole--"why do they not imitate us in a publication relating to them? Why
do they not put forth something similar to what we have done for our
_Museum Marbles_? Or rather, speaking more correctly, why are not the
_Marlborough Gems_ considered as an object of rivalry, by the curators of
this exquisite cabinet? Paris is not wanting both in artists who design,
and who engrave, in this department, with at least equal skill to our
own."[19]

Let us now return to the Books. In the fourth book-room there is an opening
in the centre, to the left, nearly facing the bronze ornament--through
which, as you enter, and look to the left, appear the upper halves of two
enormous GLOBES. The effect is at first, inconceivably puzzling and even
startling: but you advance, and looking down the huge aperture occasioned
by these gigantic globes, you observe their bases resting on the ground
floor: both the upper and ground floor having the wainscots entirely
covered by books. These globes are the performance of Vincent Coronelli, a
Venetian; and were presented to Louis XIV. by the Cardinal d'Etrees, who
had them made for his Majesty. You return back into the fourth room--pace
on to its extremity, and then, at right angles, view the fifth room--or,
comprising the upper and lower globe rooms, a seventh room; the whole
admirably well lighted up from large side windows. Observe further--the
whole corresponding suite of rooms, on the ground floor, is also nearly
filled with printed books, comprising the _unbound copies_--and one
chamber, occupied by the more exquisite specimens of the presses of the
_Alduses_, the _Giuntae_, the _Stephens_, &c. UPON VELLUM, or on _large
paper_. Another chamber is exclusively devoted to large paper copies of
_all_ descriptions, from the presses of all countries; and in one or the
other of these chambers are deposited the volumes from the Library of
_Grolier_ and _De Thou_--names, dear to Book-Collectors; as an indifferent
copy has hardly ever yet been found which was once deposited on the shelves
of either. You should know that the public do not visit this lower suite of
rooms, it being open only to the particular friends of the several
Librarians. The measurement of these rooms, from the entrance to the
extremity of the fifth room, is upwards of 700 feet.

Now, my good friend, if you ask me whether the interior of this library be
superior to that of our dear BODLEIAN, I answer, at once, and without fear
of contradiction--it is very much _inferior_. It represents an interminable
range of homely and commodious apartments; but the Bodleian library, from
beginning to end--from floor to ceiling--is grand, impressive, and entirely
of a bookish appearance. In that spacious and lofty receptacle--of which
the ceiling, in my humble opinion, is an unique and beautiful piece of
workmanship--all is solemn, and grave, and inviting to study: yet echoing,
as it were, to the footsteps of those who once meditated within its almost
hallowed precincts--the _Bodleys_, the _Seldens_, the _Digbys_, the _Lauds_
and _Tanners_, of other times![20] But I am dreaming: forgetting that, at
this moment, you are impatient to enter the _MS. Department_ of the Royal
Library at Paris. Be it so, therefore. And yet the very approach to this
invaluable collection is difficult of discovery. Instead of a corresponding
lofty stone stair-case, you cross a corner of the square, and enter a
passage, with an iron gate at the extremity--leading to the apartments of
Messrs. Millin and Langles. A narrow staircase, to the right, receives you:
and this stair-case would appear to lead rather to an old armoury, in a
corner-tower of some baronial castle, than to a suite of large modern
apartments, containing probably, upon the whole, the finest collection of
_Engravings_ and of _Manuscripts_, of all ages and characters, in Europe.
Nevertheless, as we cannot mount by any other means, we will e'en set
footing upon this stair-case, humble and obscure as it may be. You scarcely
gain the height of some twenty steps, when you observe the magical
inscription of CABINET DES ESTAMPES. Your spirits dance, and your eyes
sparkle, as you pull the little wire--and hear the clink of a small
corresponding bell. The door is opened by one of the attendants in livery--
arrayed in blue and silver and red--very handsome, and rendered more
attractive by the respectful behaviour of those who wear that royal
costume. I forgot to say that the same kind of attendants are found in all
the apartments attached to this magnificent collection--and, when not
occupied in their particular vocation of carrying books to and fro, these
attendants are engaged in reading, or sitting quietly with crossed legs,
and peradventure dosing a little. But nothing can exceed their civility;
accompanied with a certain air of politeness, not altogether divested of a
kind of gentlemanly deportment.

On entering the first of those rooms, where the prints are kept, you are
immediately struck with the narrow dimensions of the place--for the
succeeding room, though perhaps more than twice as large, is still
inadequate to the reception of its numerous visitors.[21] In this first
room you observe a few of the very choicest productions of the burin, from
the earliest periods of the art, to the more recent performances of
_Desnoyer_, displayed within glazed frames upon the wainscot. It really
makes the heart of a connoisseur leap with ecstacy to see such
_Finiguerras, Baldinis, Boticellis, Mantegnas, Pollaiuolos, Israel Van
Meckens, Albert Durers, Marc Antonios, Rembrandts, Hollar, Nanteuils,
Edelincks, &c._; while specimens of our own great master engravers, among
whom are _Woollet_ and _Sharp_, maintain a conspicuous situation, and add
to the gratification of the beholder. The idea is a good one; but to carry
it into complete effect, there should be a gallery, fifty feet long, of a
confined width, and lighted from above:[22] whereas the present room is
scarcely twenty feet square, with a disproportionably low ceiling. However,
you cannot fail to be highly gratified--and onwards you go--diagonally--and
find yourself in a comparatively long room--in the midst of which is a
table, reaching from nearly one end to the other, and entirely filled
(every day) with visitors, or rather students--busied each in their several
pursuits. Some are quietly turning over the succeeding leaves, on which the
prints are pasted: others are pausing upon each fine specimen, in silent
ecstacy--checking themselves every instant lest they should break forth
into rapturous exclamations!... "silence" being rigidly prescribed by the
Curators--and, I must say, as rigidly maintained. Others again are busied
in deep critical examination of some ancient ruin from the pages of
_Piranesi_ or of _Montfaucon_--now making notes, and now copying particular
parts. Meanwhile, from the top to the bottom of the sides of the, room, are
huge volumes of prints, bound in red morocco; which form indeed the
materials for the occupations just described.[23]

But, hanging upon a pillar, at the hither end of this second room, you
observe a large old drawing of a head or portrait, in a glazed frame; which
strikes you in every respect as a great curiosity. M. Du Chesne, the
obliging and able director of this department of the collection, attended
me on my first visit. He saw me looking at this head with great eagerness.
"Enfin voila quelque chose qui merite bien votre attention"--observed he.
It was in fact the portrait of "their good but unfortunate KING JOHN"--as
my guide designated him. This Drawing is executed in a sort of thick body
colour, upon fine linen: the back-ground is gold: now almost entirely
tarnished--and there is a sort of frame, stamped, or pricked out, upon the
surface of the gold--as we see in the illuminations of books of that
period. It should also seem as if the first layer, upon which the gold is
placed, had been composed of the white of an egg--or of some such glutinous
substance. Upon the whole, it is an exceedingly curious and interesting
relic of antient graphic art.

To examine minutely the treasures of such a collection of prints--whether
in regard to ancient or modern art--would demand the unremitted attention
of the better part of a month; and in consequence, a proportionate quantity
of time and paper in embodying the fruits of that attention.[24] There is
only one other curiosity, just now, to which I shall call your attention.
It is the old wood cut of ST. CHRISTOPHER--of which certain authors have
discoursed largely.[25] They suppose they have an impression of it here--
whereas that of Lord Spencer has been hitherto considered as unique. His
Lordship's copy, as you well know, was obtained from the Buxheim monastery,
and was first made public in the interesting work of Heineken.[26] The copy
now under consideration is not pasted upon boards, as is Lord Spencer's--
forming the interior linings in the cover or binding of an old MS.--but it
is a loose leaf, and is therefore subject to the most minute examination,
or to any conclusion respecting the date which may be drawn from the
_watermark_. Upon _such_ a foundation I will never attempt to build an
hypothesis, or to draw a conclusion; because the same water-mark of Bamberg
and of Mentz, of Venice and of Rome, may be found within books printed both
at the commencement and at the end of the fifteenth century. But for the
print--as it _is_. I have not only examined it carefully, but have
procured, from M. Coeure, a fac-simile of the head only--the most essential
part--and both the examination and the fac-simile convince me... that the
St. Christopher in the Bibliotheque du Roi is NOT an impression from the
_same block_ which furnished the St. Christopher now in the library of St.
James's Place.

The general character of the figure, in the Royal Library here, is thin and
feeble compared with that in Lord Spencer's collection; and I am quite
persuaded that M. Du Chesne,--who fights his ground inch by inch, and
reluctantly (to his honour, let me add) assents to any remarks which may
make his own cherished St. Christopher of a comparatively modern date--
will, in the end, admit that the Parisian impression is a _copy_ of a later
date--and that, had an opportunity presented itself of comparing the two
impressions with each other,[27] it would never have been received into the
Library at the price at which it was obtained--I think, at about 620
francs. However, although it be not THE St. Christopher, it is a graphic
representation of the Saint which may possibly be as old as the year 1460.

But we have tarried quite long enough, for the present, within the cabinet
of Engravings. Let us return: ascend about a dozen more steps; and enter
the LIBRARY OF MANUSCRIPTS. As before, you are struck with the smallness of
the first room; which leads, however, to a second of much larger
dimensions--then to a third, of a boudoir character; afterwards to a fourth
and fifth, rather straitened--and sixthly, and lastly, to one of a noble
length and elevation of ceiling--worthy in all respects of the glorious
treasures which it contains. Let me, however, be more explicit. In the very
first room you have an earnest of all the bibliomaniacal felicity which
these MSS. hold out. Look to the left--upon entering--and view, perhaps
lost in a very ecstacy of admiration--the _Romances_ ... of all sizes and
character, which at first strike you! What _Launcelot du Lacs, Tristans,
Leonnois, Arturs, Ysaises_, and feats of the _Table Ronde_, stand closely
wedged within the brass-wired doors that incircle this and every other
apartment! _Bibles, Rituals, Moralities_, ... next claim your attention.
You go on--_History, Philosophy, Arts and Sciences_ ... but it is useless
to indulge in these rhapsodies. The fourth apartment, of which I spake,
exhibits specimens of what are seen more plentifully, but not of more
curious workmanship, in the larger room to which it leads. Here glitter,
behind glazed doors, old volumes of devotion bound in ivory, or gilt, or
brass, studded with cameos and precious stones; and covered with figures of
all characters and ages--some of the XIIth--and more of the immediately
following centuries. Some of these bindings (among which I include
_Diptychs_) may be as old as the eleventh--and they have been even carried
up to the tenth century.

Let us however return quickly back again; and begin at the beginning. The
first room, as I before observed, has some of the most exquisitely
illuminated, as well as some of the most ancient MSS., in the whole
library. A phalanx of _Romances_ meets the eye; which rather provokes the
courage, than damps the ardor, of the bibliographical champion. Nor are the
illuminated _Bibles_ of less interest to the graphic antiquary. In my next
letter you shall see what use I have made of the unrestrained liberty
granted me, by the kind-hearted Curators, to open what doors, and examine
what volumes, I pleased. Meanwhile let me introduce you to the excellent
MONSIEUR GAIL, who is sitting at yonder desk--examining a beautiful Greek
MS. of Polybius, which once belonged to Henry II. and his favourite Diane
de Poictiers. M. Gail is the chief Librarian presiding over the Greek and
Latin MSS., and is himself Professor of the Greek language in the royal
college of France. Of this gentleman I shall speak more particularly anon.
At the present moment it may suffice only to observe that he is thoroughly
frank, amiable, and communicative, and dexterous in his particular
vocation: and that he is, what we should both call, a hearty, good fellow--
a natural character. M. Gail is accompanied by the assistant librarians MM.
De. l'EPINE, and MEON: gentlemen of equal ability in their particular
department, and at all times willing to aid and abet the researches of
those who come to examine and appreciate the treasures of which they are
the joint Curators. Indeed I cannot speak too highly of these gentlemen--
nor can I too much admire the system and the silence which uniformly
prevail.

Another principal librarian is M. LANGLES:[28] an author of equal
reputation with Monsieur Gail--but his strength lies in Oriental
literature; and he presides more especially over the Persian, Arabic, and
other Oriental MSS. To the naivete of M. Gail, he adds the peculiar
vivacity and enthusiasm of his countrymen. To see him presiding in his
chair (for he and M. Gail take alternate turns) and occupied in reading,
you would think that a book worm could scarcely creep between the tip of
his nose and the surface of the _Codex Bombycinus_ over which he is poring.
He is among the most short-sighted of mortals--as to _ocular_ vision. But
he has a bravely furnished mind; and such a store of spirits and of good
humour--talking withal unintermittingly, but very pleasantly---that you
find it difficult to get away from him. He is no indifferent speaker of our
own language; and I must say, seems rather proud of such an acquirement.
Both he and M. Gail, and M. Van Praet, are men of rather small, stature--
_triplicates_, as it were, of the same work[29]--but of which M. Gail is
the tallest copy. One of the two head librarians, just mentioned, sits at a
desk in the second room--and when any friends come to see, or to converse
with him--the discussion is immediately adjourned to the contiguous
boudoir-like apartment, where are deposited the rich old bindings of which
you have just had a hasty description. Here the voices are elevated, and
the flourishes of speech and of action freely indulged in.

In the way to the further apartment, from the boudoir so frequently
mentioned, you pass a small room--in which there is a plaster bust of the
King--and among the books, bound, as they almost all are, in red morocco,
you observe two volumes of tremendously thick dimensions; the one entitled
_Alexander Aphrodiaesus, Hippocrates, &c._--the other _Plutarchi Vitae
Parallelae et Moralia, &c._ They contain nothing remarkable for ornament, or
what is more essential, for intrinsic worth. Nevertheless you pass on: and
the last--but the most magnificent--of _all_ the rooms, appropriated to the
reception of books, whether in ms. or in print, now occupies a very
considerable portion of your attention. It is replete with treasures of
every description: in ancient art, antiquities, and both sacred and profane
learning: in languages from all quarters, and almost of all ages of the
world. Here I opened, with indescribable delight the ponderous and famous
_Latin Bible of Charles the Bald_--and the religious manual of his brother
the _Emperor Lotharius_--composed chiefly of transcripts from the Gospels.
Here are ivory bindings, whether as diptychs, or attached to regular
volumes. Here are all sorts and sizes of the uncial or capital-letter MSS--
in portions, or entire. Here, too, are very precious old illuminations, and
specimens--almost without number--admirably arranged, of every species of
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL VIRTU, which cannot fail to fix the attention, enlarge the
knowledge, and improve the judgment, of the curious in this department of
research.

Such, my dear friend, is the necessarily rapid--and, I fear, consequently
imperfect--sketch which I send you of the general character of the
BIBLIOTHEQUE DU ROI; both as respects its dead and its living treasures. It
remains to be seen how this sketch will be completed.--- and I hereby give
you notice, that my next letter will contain some account of a few of the
more ancient, curious, and splendid MANUSCRIPTS--to be followed by a second
letter, exclusively devoted to a similar account of the PRINTED BOOKS. If I
execute this task according to my present inclinations--and with the
disposition which I now feel, together with the opportunities which have
been afforded me--it will not, I trust, be said that I have been an idle or
unworthy visitor of this magnificent collection.


[16] [Mons. Crapelet takes fire at the above passage: simply because he
    misunderstands it. In not one-word, or expression of it, is there any
    thing which implies, directly or indirectly, that "it would be
    difficult to find another public establishment where the officers are
    more active, more obliging, more anxious to satisfy the Public than in
    the above." I am talking only of _dress_--and commending the silk
    stockings of Mons. Van Praet at the expense of those by whom he is
    occasionally surrounded.]

[17] So, even NOW: 1829.

[18] In the year 1814, the late M. Millin published a dissertation upon
    this medal, to which he prefixed an engraving of the figure of Louis.
    There can indeed be but one opinion that the Engraving is unworthy of
    the Original.

    [For an illustration of the _Medallic History of France_, I scarcely
    recollect any one object of Art which would be more gratifying, as
    well as apposite, than a faithful Engraving of such a Medal: and I
    call upon my good friend M. DU CHESNE to set such a History on foot.
    There is however another medal, of the same Monarch, of a smaller
    size, but of equal merit of execution, which has been selected to
    grace the pages of this second edition--in the OPPOSITE PLATE. The
    inscription is as follows: LUDOVICO XII. REGNANTE CAESARE ALTERO.
    GAUDET OMNIS NATIO: from which it is inferred that the Medal was
    struck in consequence of the victory of Ravenna, or of Louis's
    triumphant campaigns in Italy. A short but spirited account is given
    of these campaigns in Le Noir's _Musee des Monumens Francais_, tome
    ii. p. 145-7.]

[19] ["And it is Mr. DIBDIN who makes this confession! Let us render
    justice to his impartiality on this occasion. Such a confession ought
    to cause some regret to those who go to seek engravings in London."
    CRAPELET, vol. ii. p. 89. The reader shall make his own remark on the
    force, if there be any, of this gratuitous piece of criticism of the
    French Translator.]

[20] [And, till within these few months, those of the REV. DR. NICOLL,
    Regius Professor of the Hebrew Language! That amiable and modest and
    surprisingly learned Oriental Scholar died in the flower of his age
    (in his 36th year) to the deep regret of all his friends and
    acquaintances, and, I had well nigh said, to the irreparable loss of
    the University.]

[21] ["This observation is just; and it is to be hoped that they will soon
    carry into execution the Royal ordonance of October, 1816, which
    appropriates the apartments of the Treasury, contiguous, to be united
    to the establishment, as they become void. However, what took place in
    1825, respecting some buildings in the Rue Neuve des Petits Champs,
    forbids us to suppose that this wished for addition will take place."
    CRAPELET, p. 93.]

[22] [M. Crapelet admits the propriety of such a suggested improvement; and
    hopes that government will soon take it up for the accommodation of
    the Visitors--who sometimes are obliged to wait for a _vacancy_,
    before they can commence these researches.]

[23] [Mons. Crapelet estimates the number of these splendid volumes (in
    1825,) at "more than six thousand!"]

[24] [M. Crapelet might have considered this confession as a reason, or
    apology, sufficient for not entering into all those details or
    descriptions, which he seems surprised and vexed that I omitted to
    travel into.]

[25] _An enquiry into the History of Engraving upon Copper and in
    Wood_, 1816, 4to. 2 vol. by W.Y. Ottley. Mr. Ottley, in vol. i. p. 90,
    has given the whole of the original cut: while in the first volume p.
    iii. of the _Bibliotheca Spenceriana_, only the figure and date are
    given.

[26] _Idee generale d'une Collection complette des Estampes. Leips._
    1771. 8vo.

[27] Since the above was written, the RIVAL ST. CRISTOPHER have been placed
    _side by side_. When Lord Spencer was at Paris, last year, (1819,) on
    his return from Italy--he wrote to me, requesting I would visit him
    there, and bring St. Christopher with me. That Saint was therefore, in
    turn, carried across the water--and on being confronted with his
    name-sake, at the Royal Library ... it was quite evident, at the first
    glance, as M. Du Chesne admitted--that they were impressions taken
    from _different blocks_. The question therefore, was, after a good
    deal of pertinacious argument on both sides--which of the two
    impressions was the MORE ANCIENT? Undoubtedly it was that of Lord[B]
    Spencer's.

        [B] [The reasons, upon which this conclusion was founded, are
        stated at length in the preceding edition of this work: since
        which, I very strongly incline to the supposition that the Paris
        impression is a _proof_--of one of the _cheats_ of DE MURR.]

[28] He died in 1824 and a notice of his Life and Labours appeared in the
    _Annales Encyclopediques_.

[29] "M. Dibdin may well make the _fourth_ copy--as to size."
    CRAPELET, p. 115.




_LETTER III._

THE SAME SUBJECTS CONTINUED.


_Paris, June 14, 1818_.

As I promised, at the conclusion of my last, you shall accompany me
immediately to the ROYAL LIBRARY; and taking down a few of the more ancient
MANUSCRIPTS relating to _Theology_--especially those, which, from age, art,
or intrinsic worth, demand a more particular examination--we will both sit
down together to the enjoyment of what the librarians have placed before
us. In other words, I shall proceed to fill up the outline (executed with a
hurrying pencil) which was submitted to you in my previous letter. First,
therefore, for

BIBLES, LITURGIES, RITUALS, LEGENDS, MORAL TREATISES, &C.

_Quatuor Evangelia. "Codex Membranaceus, Olim Abbatiae S. Medardi
Suessionensis in uncialibus litteris et auricis scriptus. Saec. VI."_ The
preceding is written in an old hand, inserted in the book. It is a folio
volume of unquestionably great antiquity; but I should apprehend that it is
_antedated_ by at least _two_ centuries. It is full of embellishment, of a
varied and splendid character. The title to each Gospel is in very large
capital letters of gold, upon a purple ground: both the initial letter and
the border round the page being elaborately ornamented. The letter prefixed
to St. Matthew's Gospel is highly adorned, and in very good taste. Each
page consists of two columns, in capital letters of gold, throughout:
within borders of a quiet purple, or lilac tint, edged with gold. It has
been said that no two borders are alike altogether. A portrait of each
Evangelist is prefixed to the title; apparently coeval with the time: the
composition is rather grotesque; the colours are without any glaze, and the
perspective is bad.

LATIN BIBLE OF CHARLES THE BALD. Folio. When this volume was described by
me, on a former occasion,[30] from merely printed authorities, of course it
was not in my power to do it, if I may so speak, "after the life,"--for
although nearly ten centuries have elapsed since this Bible has been
executed, yet, considering its remote age, it may be said to be fresh and
in most desirable condition. The authority, just hinted at, notices that
this magnificent volume was deposited in the library by _Baluze_, the head
librarian to Colbert; but a note in that eminent man's hand writing,
prefixed, informs us that the Canons of the Cathedral church at Metz made
Colbert a present of it.

The reverse of the last leaf but one is occupied by Latin verses, in
capital letters of gold, at the top of which, in two lines, we make out--"
_Qualiter uiuian monachus sci martini consecrat hanc bibliam Karolo
ipatorj_," &c. The ensuing and last leaf is probably, in the eye of an
antiquarian virtuoso, more precious than either of its decorative
precursors. It exhibits the PORTRAIT OF CHARLES THE BALD; who is surrounded
by four attendants, blended, as it were, with a group of twelve below--in
the habits of priests--listening to the oration of one, who stands nearly
in the centre.[31] This illumination, in the whole, measures about fourteen
inches in height by nearly ten and a half in width: the purple ground being
frequently faded into a greenish tint. The volume itself is about twenty
inches in height by fifteen wide.

PSALTER OF CHARLES THE BALD. This very precious volume was also in the
library of the Great Colbert. It is a small quarto, bound in the most
sumptuous manner. The exterior of the first side of the binding has an
elaborate piece of sculpture, in ivory, consisting of small human figures,
beasts, &c.; and surrounded with oval and square coloured stones. The
exterior of the other, or corresponding, side of the binding has the same
species of sculpture, in ivory; but no stones. The text of the volume is in
gold capitals throughout; but the ornaments, as well as the portrait of
Charles, are much inferior to those in that just described. However, this
is doubtless a valuable relic.

PRAYER BOOK OF CHARLES THE BALD; in small 4to. This is rather an
_Evangelistarium_, or excerpts from the four Gospels. The writing is a
small roman lower-case. The illuminations, like those in the Bible, are
rubbed and faded, and they are smaller. The exterior ornament of the
binding, in the middle, contains a group of ivory figures--taken from the
_original_ covering or binding.

BOOK OF THE GOSPELS, OF THE EMPEROR LOTHARIUS. Although it is very probable
that this book may be of a somewhat earlier date than the MS. just
described, yet as its original possessor was brother to _Charles the Bald_,
it is but courtesy to place him in the second rank after the French
monarch; and accordingly I have here inserted the volume in the order which
I apprehend ought to be observed. An ancient ms. memorandum tells us that
this book was executed in the 855th year of the Christian era, and in the
15th of the Emperor's reign. On the reverse of the first leaf is the
portrait of the Emperor, with an attendant on each side. The text commences
on the recto of the second leaf. On the reverse of the same leaf, is a
representation of the Creator. Upon the whole, this book may be classed
among the most precious specimens of early art in this library. On the
cover are the royal arms.

LATIN BIBLE. Fol. This MS. of the sacred text is in four folio volumes, and
undoubtedly cannot be later than the thirteenth century. The text is
written with three columns in each page. Of the illuminations, the figures
are sketches, but freely executed: the colouring coarse and slightly put
on: the wings of some of the angels reminded me of those in the curious
_Hyde-Book_, belonging to the Marquis of Buckingham at Stowe; and of which,
as you may remember, there are fac-similes in _the Bibliographical
Decameron_.[32] The group of angels (on the reverse of the fourth leaf of
the first volume), attending the Almighty's commands, is cleverly managed
as to the draperies. The soldiers have quilted or net armour. The initial
letters are sometimes large, in the fashion of those in the Bible of
Charles the Bald, but very inferior in execution. In this MS. we may trace
something, I think, of the decline of art.

PSALTERIUM LATINE, 8vo. If I were called upon to select any one volume, of
given octavo dimensions, I do not know whether I should not put my hand
upon the _present_--for you are hereby to know that this was the religious
manual of ST. LOUIS:--his own choice copy--selected, I warrant, from half a
score of performances of rival scribes, rubricators, and illuminators. Its
condition is absolutely wonderful--nor is the history of its locomotiveness
less surprising. First, for an account of its contents. On the reverse of
the first fly-leaf, we read the following memorandum--in red: "_Cest
psaultier fu saint loys. Et le dona la royne Iehanne deureux au roy
Charles filz du roy Iehan, lan de nres' mil troys cens soissante et neuf.
Et le roy charles pnt filz du dit Roy charles le donna a madame Marie de
frace sa fille religieuse a poissi. le iour saint michel lan mil
iiij^c._" This hand writing is undoubtedly of the time.

A word now about the history of this volume. As this extract indicates, it
was deposited in a monastery at Poissy. When that establishment was
dissolved, the book was brought to M. Chardin, a bookseller and a
bibliomaniac. He sold it, some twenty-five years ago, to a Russian
gentleman, from whom it was obtained, at Moscow, by the Grand Duke
Nicholas.[33] The late King of France, through his ambassador, the Count de
Noailles, obtained it from the Grand Duke--who received, in return, from
his Majesty, a handsome present of two Sevre vases. It is now therefore
safely and judiciously lodged in the Royal Library of France. It is in
wooden covers, wrapped in red velvet. The vellum is singularly soft, and of
its original pure tint.

HISTORICAL PARAPHRASE OF THE BIBLE. Lat. and Fr. Folio. If any MS. of the
sacred text were to be estimated according to the _number of the
illuminations_ which it contained, the present would unquestionably claim
precedence over every other. In short, this is the MS. of which Camus, in
the _Notices et Extraits des MSS. de la Bibliotheque Nationale_, vol. vi.
p. 106, has given not only a pretty copious account, but has embellished
that account with fac-similes--one large plate, and two others--each
containing four subjects of the illuminations. After an attentive survey of
the various styles of art observable in these decorations, I am not
disposed to allow the antiquity of the MS. to go beyond the commencement of
the XVth century. A sight of the frontispiece causes a re-action of the
blood in a lover of genuine large margins. The book is cropt--not _quite_
to the quick!... but then this frontispiece displays a most delicate and
interesting specimen of graphic art. It is executed in a sort of gray
tone:--totally destitute of other colour. According to Camus, there are
upwards of five thousand illuminations; and a similar work, in his
estimation, could not _now_ be executed under 100,000 francs.

A SIMILAR MS. This consists but of one volume, of a larger size, of 321
leaves. It is also an historical Bible. The illuminations are arranged in a
manner like those of the preceding; but in black and white only, delicately
shaded. The figures are tall, and the females have small heads; just what
we observe in those of the _Roman d'Alexandre_, in the Bodleian library. It
is doubtless a manuscript of nearly the same age, although this may be
somewhat more recent.

LIBER GENERATIONIS IHI XTI. Of all portions of the sacred text--not
absolutely a consecutive series of the Gospels, or of any of the books of
the Old Testament--the present is probably, not only the oldest MS. in that
particular department, but, with the exception of the well known _Codex
Claromontanus_, the most ancient volume in the Royal Library. It is a
folio, having purple leaves throughout, upon which the text is executed in
silver capitals. Both the purple and the silver are faded. On the exterior
of the binding are carvings in ivory, exceedingly curious, but rather
clumsy. The binding is probably coeval with the MS. They call it of the
ninth century; but I should rather estimate it of the eighth. It is
undoubtedly an interesting and uncommon volume.

EVANGELIUM STI. IOHANNIS. This is a small oblong folio, bound in red
velvet. It is executed in a very large, lower-case, coarse gothic and roman
letter, alternately:--in letters of gold throughout. The page is narrow,
the margin is large, and the vellum soft and beautiful. There is a rude
portrait of the Evangelist prefixed, on a ground entirely of gold. The
capital initial letter is also rude. The date of this manuscript is pushed
as high as the eleventh century: but I doubt this antiquity.

LIBER PRECUM: CUM NOTIS, CANTICIS ET FIGURIS. I shall begin my account of
PRAYER BOOKS, BREVIARIES, &C. with the present: in all probability the most
ancient within these walls. The volume before me is an oblong folio, not
much unlike a tradesman's day-book. A ms. note by Maugerard, correcting a
previous one, assigns the composition of this book to a certain Monk, of
the name of _Wickingus_, of the abbey of Prum, of the Benedictin order. It
was executed, as appears on the reverse of the forty-eighth leaf, "_under
the abbotships of Gilderius and Stephanus_." It is full of illuminations,
heavily and clumsily done, in colours, which are now become very dull. I do
not consider it as older than the twelfth century, from the shield with a
boss, and the depressed helmet. There are interlineary annotations in a
fine state of preservation. In the whole, ninety-one leaves. It is bound in
red morocco.

BREVIARE DE BELLEVILLE: Octavo. 2 volumes. Rich and rare as may be the
graphic gems in this marvellous collection, I do assure you, my good
friend, that it would be difficult to select two octavo volumes of greater
intrinsic curiosity and artist-like execution, than are those to which I am
now about to introduce you:--especially the first. They were latterly the
property of Louis XIV. but had been originally a present from Charles VI.
to our Richard II. Thus you see a good deal of personal history is attached
to them. They are written in a small, close, Gothic character, upon vellum
of the most beautiful colour. Each page is surrounded by a border,
(executed in the style of the age--perhaps not later than 1380) and very
many pages are adorned by illuminations, especially in the first volume,
which are, even now, as fresh and perfect as if just painted. The figures
are small, but have more finish (to the best of my recollection) than those
in our Roman d'Alexandre, at Oxford.

At the end of the first volume is the following inscription--written in a
stiff, gothic, or court-hand character: the capital letters being very tall
and highly ornamented. "_Cest Breuiare est a l'usaige des Jacobins. Et est
en deux volumes Dont cest cy Le premier, et est nomme Le Breuiaire de
Belleville. Et le donna el Roy Charles le vj^e. Au roy Richart Dangleterre,
quant il fut mort Le Roy Henry son successeur L'envoya a son oncle Le Duc
de Berry, auquel il est a present."_ This memorandum has the signature of
"Flamel," who was Secretary to Charles VI. On the opposite page, in the
same ancient Gothic character, we read: "_Lesquelz volumes mon dit Seigneur
a donnez a ma Dame Seur Marie de France. Ma niepce."_ Signed by the same.
The Abbe L'Epine informs me that Flamel was a very distinguished character
among the French: and that the royal library contains several books which
belonged to him.

BREVIARY OF JOHN DUKE OF BEDFORD. Pursuing what I imagine to be a tolerably
correct chronological order, I am now about to place before you this
far-famed _Breviary_: companion to the MISSAL which originally belonged to
the same eminent Possessor, and of which our countrymen[34] have had more
frequent opportunities of appreciating the splendour and beauty than the
Parisians; as it is not likely that the former will ever again become the
property of an Englishman. Doubtless, at the sale of the Duchess of
Portland's effects in 1786, some gallant French nobleman, if not Louis XVI.
himself, should have given an unlimited commission to purchase it, in order
that both _Missal_ and _Breviary_ might have resumed that close and
intimate acquaintance, which no doubt originally subsisted between them,
when they lay side by side upon the oaken shelves of their first
illustrious Owner. Of the _two_ performances, however, there can be no
question that the superiority lies decidedly with the _Missal_: on the
score of splendour, variety, and skilfulness of execution.

The last, and by much the most splendid illumination, is _that_ for which
the artists of the middle age, and especially the old illuminators, seem to
have reserved all their powers, and upon which they lavished all their
stock of gold, ultramarine, and carmine. You will readily anticipate that I
am about to add--the _Assumption of the Virgin_. One's memory is generally
fallacious in these matters; but of all the exquisite, and of all the
minute, elaborate, and dazzling works of art, of the illuminatory kind, I
am quite sure that I have not seen any thing which _exceeds_ this. To
_equal_ it--there may be some few: but its superior, (of its own particular
class of subject) I think it would be very difficult to discover.

HORAE BEATAE MARIAE VIRGINIS. This may be called either a large thick octavo,
or a very small folio. Probably it was originally more decidedly of the
latter kind. It is bound in fish skin; and a ms. note prefixed thus informs
us. "_Manuscrit aqui du C^{en} Papillon au commencement du mois de Frimaire
de lan XII. de la Republique."_ This is without doubt among the most superb
and beautiful books, of its class, in the Royal Library. The title is
ornamented in an unusual but splendid manner. Some of the larger
illuminations are elaborately executed; especially the first--representing
the _Annunciation_. The robe of the Angel, kneeling, is studded with small
pearls, finished with the minutest touches. The character of ART, generally
throughout, is that of the time and manner of the volume last described:
but the present is very frequently inferior in merit to what may be
observed in the Bedford Breviary. In regard to the number of decorations,
this volume must also be considered as less interesting: but it possesses
some very striking and very brilliant performances. Thus, _St. Michael and
the Devil_ is absolutely in a blaze of splendor; while the illumination on
the reverse of the same leaf is not less remarkable for a different effect.
A quiet, soft tone--from a profusion of tender touches of a grey tint, in
the architectural parts of the ornaments--struck me as among the most
pleasing specimens of the kind I had ever seen. The latter and larger
illuminations have occasionally great power of effect, from their splendid
style of execution--especially that in which the central compartment is
occupied by _St. George and the Dragon_. Some of the smaller illuminations,
in which an Angel is shewing the cruelties about to be inflicted on the
wicked, by demons, are terrific little bits! As for the vellum, it is "de
toute beaute."

HISTORIA BEATAE MARIAE VIRGINIS. Folio. This is briefly described in the
printed catalogue, under number 6811. It is a large and splendid folio, in
a very fine state of preservation; but of which the art is, upon the whole,
of the ordinary and secondary class of merit. Yet it is doubtless a volume
of great interest and curiosity. Even to English feelings, it will be
gratifying to observe in it the portrait of _Louisa of Savoy_, mother of
Francis I. That illustrious lady is sitting in a chair, surrounded by her
attendants; and is in all probability a copy from the life. The performance
is a metrical composition, in stanzas of eleven verses. I select the
opening lines, because they relate immediately to the portrait in question.

  _Tres excellente illustre et magnificque
  Fleur de noblesse exquise et redolente
  Dame dhonneur princesse pacifique
  Salut a ta maieste precellente
  Tes seruiteurs par voye raisonnable
  Tant iusticiers que le peuple amyable.
  De amyens cite dicte de amenite
  Recomandant sont par humilite
  Leur bien publicque en ta grace et puissance
  Toy confessant estre en realite
  Mere humble et franche au grant espoir de France_.

The text is accompanied by the common-place flower Arabesques of the
period.

HOURS OF ANNE OF BRITTANY. The order of this little catalogue of a few of
the more splendid and curious ILLUMINATED MANUSCRIPTS, in the Royal Library
of France, has at length, my worthy friend, brought me in contact with the
magical and matchless volume usually designated by the foregoing title. You
are to know--in the first place--that, of ALL the volumes in this most
marvellous Library, the present is deemed THE MOST PRECIOUS. Not even the
wishes and regulations of Royalty itself allow of its migration beyond the
walls of the public library. There it is kept: there it is opened, and
shewn, and extolled beyond any limits fixed to the admiration of the
beholder. It is a rare and bewitching piece of art, I do assure you: and
so, raising your expectations to their highest pitch, I will allow you to
anticipate whatever is wonderful in FRANCESCO VERONESE and gorgeous in
GIROLAMO DEI LIBRI.[35] Perhaps, however, this is not the most happy
illustration of the art which it displays.

The first view of this magical volume is doubtless rather disheartening:
but the sight of the original silver clasps (luckily still preserved) will
operate by way of a comforter. Upon them you observe this ornament:

[Illustration.]

denoting, by the letter and the ducal crown, that the book belonged to
Anne, Duchess of Brittany. On the reverse of the second leaf we observe the
_Dead Christ_ and the _three Maries_. These figures are about six inches in
height. They are executed with great delicacy, but in a style somewhat too
feeble for their size. One or two of the heads, however, have rather a good
expression.

Opposite to this illumination is the _truly invaluable_ PORTRAIT OF ANNE
herself: attended by two females, each crowned with a glory; one is
displaying a banner, the other holding a cross in her hand. To the left of
these attendants, is an old woman, hooded, with her head encircled by a
glory. They are all three sweetly and delicately touched; but there are
many evident marks of injury and ill usage about the surface of the
colouring. Yet, as being _ideal_ personages, my eye hastily glided off them
to gaze upon the illustrious Lady, by whose orders, and at whose expense,
these figures were executed. It is upon the DUCHESS that I fix my eye, and
lavish my commendations. Look at her[36] as you here behold her. Her gown
is brown and gold, trimmed with dark brown fur. Her hair is brown. Her
necklace is composed of coloured jewels. Her cheek has a fresh tint; and
the missal, upon which her eyes are bent, displays highly ornamented art.
The cloth upon the table is dark crimson.

The _Calendar_ follows; in which, in one of the winter months, we observe a
very puerile imitation of flakes of snow falling over the figures and the
landscape below. The calendar occupies a space of about six inches by four,
completely enclosed by a coloured margin. Then begins a series of the most
beautiful ornaments of FLOWERS, FRUITS, INSECTS, &C. for which the
illuminators of this period were often eminently distinguished. These
ornaments are almost uniformly introduced in the fore-edges, or right-side
margins, of the leaves; although occasionally, but rarely, they encircle
the text. They are from five to six inches in length, or height; having the
Latin name of the plant at top, and the French name at the bottom. Probably
these titles were introduced by a later hand. It is really impossible to
describe many of them in terms of adequate praise. The downy plum is almost
bursting with ripeness: the butterfly's wings seem to be in tremulous
motion, while they dazzle you by their varied lustre: the hairy insect puts
every muscle and fibre into action, as he insinuates himself within the
curling of the crisped leaves; while these leaves are sometimes glittering
with dew, or coated with the finest down. The flowers and the vegetables
are equally admirable, and equally true to nature. To particularise would
be endless. Assuredly these efforts of art have no rival--of their kind.
_Scripture Subjects. Saints, Confessors, &c._ succeed in regular order,
with accompaniments of fruits and flowers, more or less exquisitely
executed:--the whole, a collection of peculiar, and, of its kind,
UNRIVALLED ART. This extraordinary volume measures twelve inches by seven
and a half.

HOURS BELONGING TO POPE PAUL III. 8vo. The portrait of the Pope is at the
bottom of the first ornament, which fixes the period of its execution to
about the middle of the sixteenth century. Towards the end the pages are
elaborately ornamented in the arabesque manner. There are some pleasing
children: of that style of art which is seen in the Missal belonging to Sir
M.M. Sykes, of the time of Francis I.[37] The scription is very beautiful.
The volume afterwards belonged to Pius VI., whose arms are worked in
tambour on the outside. It is kept in a case, and is doubtless a fine book.

MISSALS: numbers 19-4650. Under this head I shall notice two pretty volumes
of the devotional kind; of which the subjects are executed in red, blue,
&c.--and of which the one seems to be a copy of the other. The borders
exhibit a style of art somewhat between that of Julio Clovio and what is
seen in the famous Missal just mentioned.

MISSAL OF HENRY IV. No. 1171. This book is of the end of the XVIth century.
The ground is gold, with a small brilliant, roman letter for text. The
subjects are executed in a pale chocolate tint, rather capricious than
tasteful. It has been cropt in the binding. The name and arms of Henry are
on the exterior.

Thus much, my dear friend, for the SACRED TEXT--either in its original,
uninterrupted state--or as partially embodied in _Missals_, _Hours_, or
_Rituals_. I think it will now be but reasonable to give you some little
respite from the toil of further perusal; especially as the next class of
MSS. is so essentially different. In the mean while, I leave you to carry
the image of ANNE OF BRITTANY to your pillow, to beguile the hours of
languor or of restlessness. A hearty adieu.


[30] _Bibliographical Decameron_, vol. i. p. xxxi.

[31] Earl Vivian, and eleven monks, in the act of presenting the volume to
    Charles.

[32] Vol. i. p. lvi.-vii.

[33] The present Emperor of Russia.

[34] A very minute and particular description of this Missal, together with
    a fac-simile of the DUKE OF BEDFORD kneeling before his tutelary SAINT
    GEORGE, will be found in the _Bibliographical Decameron_, vol. i.
    p. cxxxvi-cxxxix.

[35] For an account of these ancient worthies in the art of illumination,
    consult the _Bibliographical Decameron_, vol. i. p. cxlii.-clxiv.

[36] See the OPPOSITE PLATE. [The beautiful copy of the Original, by Mr. G.
    Lewis, from which the Plates in this work were taken, is now in the
    possession of Thomas Ponton, Esq.]

[37] [It was bought at Sir Mark's sale, by Messrs. Rivington and Cochrane.
    See a fac-simile of one of the illuminations in the _Bibliographical
    Decameron_, vol. i. p. clxxix.]




_LETTER IV._

THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED.


Are you thoroughly awake, and disenchanted from the magic which the
contents of the preceding letter may have probably thrown around you?
Arouse--to scenes of a different aspect, but of a not less splendid and
spirit-stirring character. Buckle on your helmet, ... for the trumpet
sounds to arms. The _Knights of the Round Table_ call upon you, from their
rock-hewn, or wood-embowered, recesses, to be vigilant, faithful,
enterprising, and undaunted. In language less elevated, and somewhat more
intelligible, I am about to place before you a few illuminated MSS.
relating to HISTORY and ROMANCE; not without, in the first place, making a
digression into one or two volumes of MORALITIES, if they may be so called.
Prepare therefore, in the first place, for the inspection of a couple of
volumes--which, for size, splendor, and general state of preservation, have
no superior in the Royal Library of France.

CITE DE DIEU: No. 6712: folio. 2 vols. These are doubtless among the most
magnificent _shew-books_ in this collection; somewhat similar, in size and
style of art, to the MS. of _Valerius Maximus_, in our British Museum--of
which, should you not have forgotten it, some account may be read in the
_Bibliographical Decameron_.[38] At the very first page we observe an
assemblage of Popes, Cardinals, and Bishops, with a King seated on his
throne in the midst of them. The figures in the fore-ground are from four
to five inches high; and so in gradation upwards. The colouring of some of
the draperies is in a most delightful tone. The countenances have also a
soft and quiet expression. The arms of _Graville_ (Grauille?) are in the
circular border. Three leaves beyond, a still larger and more crowded
illumination appears--in a surprising state of freshness and beauty;
measuring nearly a foot and a half in height. It is prefixed to the _First
Book_, and is divided into a group in the clouds, and various groups upon
the earth below. These latter are representations of human beings in all
situations and occupations of life--exhibiting the prevalence both of
virtues and vices. They are encircled at bottom by a group of Demons. The
figures do not exceed two inches in height. Nothing can exceed the delicacy
and brilliancy of this specimen of art about the middle of the fifteenth
century:---a ms. date of 1469 shewing the precise period of its execution.
This latter is at the end of the first volume. Each book, into which the
work is divided, has a large illumination prefixed, of nearly equal beauty
and splendor.

LES ECHECS AMOUREUX. Folio. No. 6808. The title does not savour of any
moral application to be derived from the perusal of the work. Nevertheless,
there are portions of it which were evidently written with that view. It is
so lovely, and I had almost said so matchless, a volume, that you ought to
rejoice to have an account of it in any shape. On the score of delicate,
fresh, carefully-executed art, this folio may challenge comparison with any
similar treasure in the Bibliotheque du Roi. The subjects are not crowded,
nor minute; nor of a very wonderful and intricate nature; but they are
quietly composed, softly executed, and are, at this present moment, in a
state of preservation perfectly beautiful and entire.

BOCCACE; DES CAS DES NOBLES HOMMES ET FEMMES: No. 6878. The present seems
to be the fit place to notice this very beautiful folio volume of one of
the most popular works of Boccaccio. Copies of it, both in ms. and early
print--are indeed common in foreign libraries. There is a date of 1409 at
the very commencement of the volume: but I take the liberty to question
whether that be the date of its actual execution. The illuminations in this
manuscript exhibit a fine specimen of the commencement of that soft, and as
some may think woolly, style of art, which appears to so much advantage in
the _Bedford Missa