and friend, Buonaparte, to occupy the corner wing of IN FRANCE. 43 the old palace, from which every other man of genius and science, who was entitled to reside there, has been removed to other places, in order to make room for the reception of the grand national library, which the first consul intends to have deposited there. His apartments are very magnificent, and furnished in that taste, which he has, by the influence of his fame, and his elegance of design, so widely and successfully diffused, Whilst seated in his rooms, I could not help fancying myself as breathing in the most tasteful times of Greece. Tunics and robes were carelessly but gracefully thrown over the antique chairs, sur- rounded by elegant statues, and ancient libraries, so disposed as to perfect the classical illusion. I found David in his garden, putting in the back ground of a painting, dressed in a dirty robe, and covered with an old shabby hat. His eyes are dark and penetrating, and beam with the lustre of genius. His collection of paintings and statues, and many of his own studies, afforded a perfect banquet, and he was then occupied in drawing a fine portrait of Buonaparte. The pre- sence of David covered the gratification with gloom. Before me, in the bosom of that art; which is said, witk her divine associates, to soften the souls of men, I beheld the remorseless judge of his sovereign, the destroyer of his brethren in art, and the enthusiastic admirer and confidential friend of Rabespierre. Da- vid’s political life is too well known. During the late scenes of horror, he was asked by an acquaint- ance, how many heads had fallen upon the scaffold that day; to which he is said coolly to have replied, «< only one hundred and twenty !! The heads of twenty thousand more must fall before the great work of philosophy can be accomplished.” | It is related of him, that during the reign of the Mountain, he carried his portfolio to the front of the scaffold, to catch the last emotions of expiring nature, from the victims of his revolutionary rage. He directed and presided at the splendid funeral 44 CARR'S STRANGER solemnitiés of Lepelletier, who was assassinated by Paris, in which his taste and intimate knowledge of: the ceremonies of the ancients, on similar occasions, were eminently displayed. Farewell, David! when years. have rolled away, and time has mellowed the works of thy sublime pen- cil, in mercy mayest thou be remembered only as their creator; may thy fame repose herself upon the tableau of the dying Socrates, and the miraculous passage of the Alpine hero; may the ensanguined re- cords of thy political phrensy moulder away, and may science, who knew not blood till thea wert known, whose pure and hallowed inspirations have made men happier and better, till thou wert born, implore for thee forgiveness, and, whilst with rapture she points to the immortal images of thy divine genius, may she cover with an impenetrable pall, the pale, shuddering and bleeding victims of thy sanguinary soul! After leaving the gallery of David, la Place de la Concorde attracted my attention. This ill-fated spot, from its spaciousness, and beauty of situation, has always been thie theatre of the great fétes of the na- tion, as well as the scene of its greatest calamities, When the nuptials of the late king and queen Were celebrated, the magnificent fireworks, shows, and illuminations which followed, were here displayed. During the exhibition, a numerous banditti, from Normandy, breke in upon the vast assemblage of spectators: owing to the confusion which followed, aud the fall of sonie of the scaffolding, the supporters of which were sawed through by these wretches, the disorder became dreadful and universal; many were crushed to death, and some hundreds of the people,. whilst endeavouring to make their escape, were stab- bed, and robbed. The king and queen, as a mark of their deep regret, ordered the dead to be entombed in the new burial ground of l’Egiise de Madeleine, then erecting at the entrance of the Boulevard des Italiens, im the neighbourhood uf the palace, under the ime - IN FRANCE, | AS mediate inspection and patronage of the sovereign. This building was never finished, and still presents to the eye a naked pile of lofty walls and columns. Alas! the gloomy auguries which followed this fatal spectacle were too truly realised. On_ that spot perished the monarch and his queen, and the flower of the French nobility, and many of the vir- tuous and enlightened men of France; and in this ce- metery, their unhonoured remains were thrown, amidst heaps of headless victims, into promiscuous graves of unslacked lime! : How inscrutable are the ways of destiny! This spot, which, from its enchanting scenery, is calculated only to recal, or to inspire the most tender, generous and elegant sentiments, which has been the favoured resort of so many kings, and the scene of every gorgeous spectacle, was doomed to become the ‘human shambles of the brave and good, and the Gol- gotha of the guillotine! In the centre, is an oblong ~ square railing, which encloses the exact spot where formerly stood that instrument of death, as voted pers manent by its remorseless employers. It is a matter of a little surprise to observe, in the windows of the principal print-shops, prints exposed to sale, representing the late king, in his full robes of state, under which was written, Le restaurateur de la liberté (perhaps intended for an equivoque), and also the parting interview between that unhappy sovereign and his queen and family in the temple, upon the morning of his execution. This little circumstance will shew the confidence the present rulers feel in the strength and security of the present government; for such representations are certainly calculated to excite feelings, and to restore impressions which might prove a little hazardous to both, were they less powerfully supported. I was also one morning a little surprised, by hear- ing from my window the exhilarating song of ‘ Rule Britannia,” played upon a hand-organ; upon looking 46 - GARR’S STRANGER down into the street, I beheld a Savoyard very com- posedly turning the handle of his musical machine, as he moved along; and a French officer humming the tune afterhim. Both were, no doubt, ignorant of the nationality of the song, though not of the truth of its sentiment. In the course of one of my morning walks, I went to the metropolitan abbey of Nétre Dame, which is situated at the-end of a large island in the Seine, which forms a part of Paris, and is filled with long narrow streets. It is a fine Gothic pile, but, in my humble opinion, much inferior to our Westminster Abbey, and to the great churches of Rouen. From this building I visited, with a large party, the celebrated Museum, or Palace of Arts, which I afterwards generally frequented every other day. This inestimable collection centains one thousand and thirty paintings, considered to be the chefs d’ceu- — vre of the great ancient masters, and is a treasury of © human art and genius, unknown to the most renowned of former ages, and far surpassing every other institu- tion of the same nature, in the present times. The first apartment is about the size of the exhibi- tion room of Somerset-house, and lighted, as that is, from above. It contains several exquisite paintings, the fruits of Buonaparte’s triumphs, or which have been presented to him by those sovereigns who have cultivated his alliance. The Parisians call this apart- ment Buonaparte’s nosegay. The most costly pictures in the room are from the gallery of the grand Duke of Tuscany. Amongst so inany works, dll exquisite and beautiful, it is almost temerity to attempt to se- lect; but if I might be permitted to name those which pleased me most, I should particularise the. Ecce Homo, by Cigoli Ludovico Cardi. The breast of the mild and benevolent Saviour, striped with the bruises of recent punishment, and his heavenly countenance, benignly looking forgiveness upon his executioners, are beautifully delineated. IN FRANCE, L'annonciation, by Gentileschi, in which the divine look of the angel, the graceful plumage of his wings, and the drapery of the Virgin, are incomparable. La Sagesse chassante les Vices, which is a very ancient and curious painting, by Andrea Mantegna, in which. the figure of Idleness, without arms, is wonderfully conceived. Les Noces de Cana, by: Paul Veronese, considered to be the best of his works, is the largest painting [ever beheld. The figures seated at the. banquet are chiefly the portraits of contemporary royal personages of diiferent nations. From this ¥oom we passed into the gallery of the Louvre. _ Adequately to describe the first impressions which were awakened upon first entering it, and contemplae ting such a galaxy of art and genius, would be impos- sible. ‘This room is one thousand two hundred feet long, and is lined with the finest paintings of the French, Flemish, and Italian. schools, and is divided by a curious double painting upon slate, placed upon a pedestal in the middle of the rcom, representing the front and back view of the same figures. The first division of this hall contains the finest works of le Brun, many of which are upon an im- mense scale. L’Hyver, ou le Deluge, by Poussin, is truly sublime, but is unfortunately placed in a bad light. There are also some beautiful marine paint- ings, by Vernet. Les Religieuses, by Philipe de Cham- pagne, is justly celebrated for the principal figure of the dying nun. Vue de Chevet d'une Eglise,. by Emanuel de Witte, is an exquisite little cabinet pic- ture, in which the effect of a ray of light shining ‘through a painted window, upon a column, is inimi- table, and- the perspective is very fine. There are here also some of the finest works of Wouvermans, and a charming picture by Teniers. La Vierge, l’en- fant Jesus, la Madeleine, et St. Jerome, by Antoine Allegri Correge, is considered to be a picture of great beauty and value. There are also some glorious paintings by Reubens, IJ haye thus briefly sclected 48 CARR'S STRANGER these pictures from the rest, hoping, at the same time, that it will not be inferred, that those which I have not named, of which it would be impossible to offer a description without filling a bulky volume, are inferior to the works which I have presumed to men- tion. The recording pen must rival that matchless pencil, which has thus adorned the walls of the Mu- seum, before it can do justice to such a magnificent collection. . This exhibition is open to the public three days in the week, and at other times to students and strangers, upon their producing their passports. On public days, all descriptions of persons may be seen here, and the: contemplation of such a mixture is not altogether un- interesting. To amuse, may be necessary to the present govern- + ment of France, but surely to supplant the wild aban-- doned principles of a barbarous revolution, with new’ ‘ impressions, created by an unreserved display of the: finest and most persuasive images of resigned suffer-- ing, heroic virtue, or elegant beauty, cannot be: deemed unworthy of the ruler of a great people. At this place, as well as at all the other nationall exhibitions, no money is required or expected. No» person is admitted with a stick, and guards attend to) preserve the pictures from injury, and the exhibition: from riot. The gallery of the Louvre is at present,, unfortunately, badly lighted throughout, owing to the: light issuing chiefly on one side, from long windows ;; an inconvenience, however, which is soon to be re-- medied, by observing the same manner of lighting asi in the adjoining apartment, From the museum, we descended into la Salle desi Antiques, which contains all the treasury of Grecian and Roman statuary. The first object to which we hastened, was the statue of Laocoon, for so many ages, and by so many writers, admired and celebrated. This superb specimen of Grecian sculpture is sup- posed to be the united production of Polydorusy ) IN FRANCE. 49 Athenoderus, and Agesander ; but its great antiquity renders its history somewhat dubious. In the begin- ning of the sixteenth century, it was discovered at Rome amongst the ruins of the palace of Titus, and deposited in the Farnese palace, whence it has been removed to Paris, by the orders of Buonaparte, after the conquest of Italy. It represents Laocoon, the priest of Apollo and Neptune, and his two sons,. writhing in the folds of two hideous serpents. Pliny mentions this statue as the admiration of the age in which he flourished. “I fear that I shall be guilty of a sort of profanation when I remark, that the figures of the two sons of Laocoon appear to exhibit rather more marks of matu- rity and strength of muscle than are natural to their size, and to the supposed tenderness of their age., It is, however, a glorious work of art. We next behold the Belvidere Apollo, a statue which, in my humble opinion, surpasses every other in the collection. All the divinity of a god beams through this unrivalled perfection of form. It is ims possible to impart the impressions which it inspires ; the rivetted beholder is ready to exclaim, with Adam, when he first discerns the approach of Raphael, st Behold what glorious shape * Comes this way moving: seems another morn “ Risen on mid-noon; some great behest from heav’n.’ The imagination cannot form such an union of grace and strength. One of its many transcendant beauties consists in its aérial appearance and exquisite expression of motion. As it would be a rash and Vain attempt to give a complete description of this matchless image, I must, reluctantly, leave it, to in- form my reader, that on the other side of the hall are the original Diana, wonderfully fine, and several very beautiful Venuses, and also some fine whole length statues of Roman magistrates, in their curule chairs. The Venus de Medicis had not arrived, but was on her road to this invaluable depét of art. VOL. XXVII, F GARR'S STRANGER In the Temple of the Muses, are exquisite busts of Homer and Socrates. A little anecdote is related of Buonaparte, which unfolded the bold and daring character of this extra- ordinary man in early life: when he was about fifteen years of age, and acadet in the military school at Paris {by the bye, the small distance between this seminar ‘and his present palace, and the swiftness of his elevas tion, afford a curious coincidence), in the vast plain of the Champ de Mars, the court, and the Parisians were assembled to witness the ascent of a balloon. Buonaparte made his way through the crowd, and un- perceived, entered-the inner fence, which contained the apparatus for inflating the silken globe. It was then very nearly filled, and restrained from its flight by the last cord only. The young cadet requested the aéronaut to permit him to mount the car with him; which request was immediately refused, from an ap- prehension that the feelings of the boy might embar- rass the experiment. Buonaparte is reported to have exclaimed, ‘‘ I am young, itis true, but I neither fear the powers of earth, nor of air,” and sternly added, *« will you let me ascend?” The aéronaut, a little of- fended at his obtrusion, sharply replied, ‘« No, Sir, I will not; I beg that you will retire.’ Upon which the little enraged officer draw a small sabre, which he wore with his uniform, instantly cut the balloon in se- veral places, and destroyed the curious apparatus, con- structed by the aéronaut, with infinite Jabour and in- genuity, for the purpose of trying the possibility of acrial navigation. | Paris was almost unpeopled that day, to view the spectacle ; and the disappointment of the populace, which was said to have exceeded seven hundred thou- sand persons, became violent and universal. The king sent to know the reason of the tumult». when the story was related to him, the good-humoured mo- narch laughed heartily, and said, «* Upon my word that impetuous. boy will make a brave officer.’ The he IN FRANCE. 5k devoted king little thought that he was destined to be the last of an old dynasty, and that he was speaking of the first of a new one. The young offender was put under arrest,-and confined for four days. It is a circumstance worthy of remark, that the ar- tillery has furnished France. with most of its present distinguished heroes, who have also been bred up in the same military schoo] with Buonaparte, <A short time before my arrival at Paris, this great genius, who displays a perfect knowledge of mankind, and parti- cularly of the people over whom he rules, discovered that the Parisians, froma familiarity with his person, and from his lady and his family having occasionally joined in their parties of amusement, began to lose that degree of awe and respect for him, which he so well knows how to appreciate, as well as to inspire ; and, in consequence, he gradually retired from every circle of fashion, and was at this period almost as in- accessible as a Chinese emperor. The same liné of conduct was also adopted by the principal officers of government. -He resided almost wholly at Mal Maison, except on state days, when only those strangers were permitted to be introduced to him, who had satisfied the ambassadors of their respective nations that they had been previously presented at their own courts. , In Paris, the achievements of the first consul are not much talked of, so true is the old adage, that no man is ahero to hisown domestic. The beauties of a colossal statute must be contemplated at a distance. The French at present work, walk, eat, drink, and sleep in tranquillity, and what is of more consequence _to them, they dance in security, to which may be added, that their taxes are neither very heavy, nor oppressive. In every party which I entered, the late minister of Great Britain* was the prevailing subject of curiosity, and I was overpéwered with questions * The illustrious Pitt, 52 CARR'S STRANGER respecting this great man, which, in their minute de- tail, extended to ascertain what was the colour of his eyes, the shape of his nose, and whether in a morning he wore hussar boots, or shoes, a curiosity which could not fail of proving pleasing to an Englishman, They informed me, that throughout the war, they regularly read, in their own diurnal prints, our par liamentary debates, and the general outline of most of our political schemes, furnished by people in the pay of the French government, who resided in Eng= land, notwithstanding the severity of the legislative, and the vigilance of the executive authorities. Whilst Jam mentioning the subject of hewspaper intercourse, I cannot help lamenting, that, since the renewal of national friendship, the public prints of both coun« tries are not more under the influence of cordiality and good-humour. The disgust which they excited in the mind of Buonaparte is inconceivable. A short time preceding my arrival in France, Buo- naparte had rendered himself very popular amongst the constitutional clergy, by a well-timed compliment to the metropolitan archbishop. The first consul gave a grand dinner to this dignified prelate, and to several of his brethren. After the entertainment, Buonaparte addressed the archbishop by observing, that as he had given directions for the repairing of the archiepisco-~ pal palace, he should very much like to take a ride in the archbishop’s carriage, to see the progress the work- men had made. _ Upon which the prelate bowed, and respectfully informed him that he had ne Carriage, otherwise he should be much flattered by conducting him thither. Buonaparte good-humouredly said,“ How can that be ? Your coach has been waiting at the gate this half hour,” and immediately conducted the vene- rable archbishop down the steps of the Thuilleries, where he found a plain handsome carriage, with a valuable pair of horses, and a coachman and foot- man dressed in the livery which Buonaparte had just before informed him would be allotted to him when IN FRANCE, . 53. his establishment was completed: the whole a present from the private purse of the first consul: upon their arrival at the palace, the archbishop was agreeably sur- prized by finding that the most minute and liberal ate. tention had been paid to his comfort, accommodation, and dignity. reine The clergy seem to be in favour with Buonaparte. When he assisted in the last spring at the inauguration of the archbishop of Paris, in the metropolitan church of Notre Dame, and gave to the restoration of re- ligion ‘* allthe circumstances of pomip,”’ and military parade, he was desirous of having. the colours of his regiment consecrated by the holy prelate, and sub- mitted bis wishes to his soldiers. A few days after- wards, a deputation waited upon their general in chief, with this reply, ‘¢ Our banners have already been con- secrated by the blood of our enemies at Marengo; the benediction of a priest cannot render them more sacred in our eyes, bor more animating in the time of battle.’ Buonaparte prudently submitted himself to their preetorian resolution, and the consular colours remain to this hour in the same unchristianlike con- dition as when they first waved at the head of their victorious legions. This anecdote will in some de- gree prove a fact which, notwithstanding the counter- reports of English newspapers, I found every where confirmed, that although religion is new to the French, yet that the novelty has at present but little charm for them, and | had frequent opportunity of confirming this remark, as well in the capital as in the depart- ments of the republic through which I passed. . In Paris, the sabbath can only be considered as a day of- dissipation to the lovers of gaiety, and a day of unusual profit tu the man of trade. . 7 Upon another subject, the wishes of the chief mae. gistrate have been equally unfortunate ; for to the few ladies who are admitted into his social circles, he has declared himself an enemy to that dress, or undress. (1 am puzzled to know what to call it), which his fas FS CARR'S STRANGER. vourite artist, David, has so successfully recommended, for the purpose of displaying, with the least possible restraint, the fine proportions of the female form. Madame Buonaparte, who is considered to be in as good a state ofsubordination to her young husband; as the consular regiment is to their young general, con- trives to exhibit her elegant person to great advantage, by adopting a judicious and graceful medium of dress, which enables her to avoid a load of decoration, and that questionable airiness of ornament which, by its gracious and unrestrained display, deprives the ima- gination of more than half its pleasures. Buonaparte is said not to be indifferent to those affections which © do honour to the breast which cherishes them, nor to the morals of the people whonf he governs. It is well known, that in France, in the house of 2 new fashionable couple, separate chambers are always reserved for the faithful pair, which, after the honey- mon isin the wane, very seldom remain unoccupied. The first consul considers such separations as un- friendly to morals. A few months since, by a well- timed display of assumed ignorance, he endeavoured to give fashion to a sentiment which may in time re- duce the number of these family accommodations. The noble palace of St. Cloud was at this time pre- paring for him; the principal architect requested of him to point out in what part of the palace he would wish to have his separate sleeping-room. ** I donot know what you mean,” said the young imperial phi- losopher, ‘ crimes only divide the husband from his wife. Make as many bed-rooms as you please, but only one for me and Madame Buonaparte.” I must now quit the dazzling splendor of imperial virtues for the more tranquil, but not less fascinating appearance of retired and modest merit. It was in the afternoon of one of the finest days in June, when Madame O » with her nephew, a yery amiable young man, called in their carriage and IN FRANCE, 55 teok me to the chateau of her husband, to whom I had letters of introduction. _ After an elegant supper, when Madame O and her daughters had withdrawn, her amiable husband entered into a very intereresting account of his coun- try, of the revolution, and of his flight for the salva- tion of himselfand family. A tolerably good opinion may be formed of the devastation which has been pro- duced by the late republican government, by the fol- lowing circumstance, which Monsieur O—— assured me, on the word of a man of honour, was correct. Fis section in Paris was composed of one thousand __ three hundred persons, of rank and fortune, of whom only five had escaped the slaughter of the guillotine ! Madame O——., and her charming family, seemed wholly to occupy his heart and affections. He spoke of his lady with all the tender eulogium ofa young lover. Their union was entirely from at- tachment, and had been resisted on the part of Ma- dame O——, when he first addressed her, only be- cause her fortune was humble, compared with his. ‘He informed me, and I must not suppress the story, that in the time ofblood, this amiable woman, who is remarkable for the delicacy of her mind, and for the beauty and majesty of her person, displayed a degree of coolness and courage, which, in the field of battle would have covered the hero with laurels. One even- ing, a short period before the family left France, a party of those murderers, who were sent for by Ro-~ bespierre, from the frontiers which divide France from Italy, and who were by that arch fiend employed in all the butcheries and massacres of Paris, entered the peaceful village of la Reine, in search of Mons, | His lady saw them advancing, and antici- pating their errand, had just time to give her husband mtelligence of their approach, who left his chateau by aback door, and secreted himself in the house of a neighbour. | | ‘Madame O———-, with perfeot composure, went out wy 56 CARR'S STRANGER to meet them, and received them in the most. graci- ous manner. They sternly demanded Monsieur O—-—, she informed them that he had left the coun- try, and after engaging them in conversation, she cou- ducted them into her drawing room, and regaled them with her best wines, and made her servants attend.. upon, them with unusual deference and ceremony. Their appearance was altogether horrible, they wore leather aprons sprinkled all over with blood, they had large horse pistols in their belts, and a dirk and sabre by their sides, their looks were full of ferecity, and. they spoke a harsh dissonant Patois language. As they drank, they talked about the bloody business of that day’s occupation, in the course of which they. drew out their dirks, and wiped from their handles, clots of blood and hair. Madame O—— sat with them,. undismayed by their frightful deportment; and after _ drinking several bottles of Champaign and Burgundy,» these savages began to grow good humoured, and seemed to be completely fascinated by the amiable and unembarrassed, and hospitable behavi ur of their fair landlady. After carousing ull midnight, they pressed her to retire, observing that they had been re- ‘ceivedso handsome that they were convinced Monsieur O—— had been misrepresented, and was no enem to the good cause; they added, that they found the wines excellent, and after drinking two or three bot- tles more, they would leave the house, without causing her any reason to regret their admission. Madame O——, with all the appearance of per- fect tranquillity and confidence in their promises, wished her unwelcome visitors a good night, and after visiting ber children in their rooms, threw herself + upon her bed, witha loaded pistol in each hand, and © overwhelmed with suppressed agony and agitation, she soundly slept till she was called by her servants, two hours after these wretches had left the house. He related also another instance of that resolution not. unfrequently exhibited by women, when those gene- , IN FRANCE. © 57 ¥ous affections, for which they are so justly celebrated, are menaced with danger. About the same period, two of the children of Monsieur O were in Paris at school: a rumour had reached him, that the teach- ers of the seminary in which they were placed, had offended the government, and were likely to be but- chered, and that the carnage which was expected to take place, might, in its undistinguishing fury, extend to the pupils. Immediately upon receiving this in- telligence, Monsieur O—— ordered his carriage, for the purpose of proceeding totown. Madame O—— implored of him to permit her to accompany him; in vain did he beseech her to remain at home; the picture of danger which he painted only rendered her more de- termined. She mounted the carriage, and seated herself by the side of her husband, When they reached Paris, they were stopped in the middle of the street St. Honoré, by the massacre ofa large numberof prisoners who had just been taken out of a church which had been converted intoa prison: their ears were pierced with.screams: many of the miserable victims were cut down, clinging to the windows of their carriage : but during this ghastly scene, and the dreadful delays which they suffered in passing through this street, Madame O discovered no sensations of alarm, but stedfastly fixed her eyes upon the back of the coach box, to avoid, as much as possible, observing the but- cheries perpetrated on each side of her; for had she been observed to close her eyes, or to sit back in the carriage, she would have excited a suspicion, which, ho doubt, would have proved fatal to her: at length she reached the school which contained her children, where she found the rumour they had received was without foundation; she calmly conducted them to the carriage, and during their gloomy return through Paris, betrayed no emotions; but as soon as they had passed the barrier, and were once more in safety upon the road to their peaceful chateau, the exulting mo- 58 CARR'S STRANGER ther, in an agony of joy, pressed ber childrento her bosom, and ina stafe of mind wrought up to phrenzy,, arrived at her own house in convulsions of ghastly’ laughter. | : od ~ Monsier O—— never spoke of this charming wo-: man, without exhibiting the strongest emotions of; regard. He said, that in sickness she suffered no one: to attend upon him but herself, that in all his afflic-- tions she had supported him, and that she mitigated! the deep melancholy which the sufferings of his couns, try, and his own priyations, had fixed upon him, by the well-timed sallies of her elegant fancyy or by the: charms of her various accomplishments. ' | Upon my return to Paris, I proceeded to the hotel of Monsieur R . Curiosity led. me to view the: house, and the celebrated bed of his lady, then ia London. | , The little vanities and eccentricities of this elegant,, amiable, and hospitable lady, will find immediate fore. giveness, when it is. known that she is now veryy young, and was married, when an indulged child oft the age of fourteen, to her present husband. She iss one of David’s most enthusiastic admirers, and hass carried the rage for Grecian undress to an extremity, which, even in the capital, left her without a fol-. lower. In the public walks of the Champs Elysées, she ones evening presented herself in a dress which alniostt rivalled the robes of Paradise; the Parisians, who ares remarkable for their politeness to women, and are not remarkable for scrupulous sentiments of delicacy, were: so displeased with her appearance, that they made @ Jane to the entrance for ber, and expelled the modern Eve from the Elysian Fields, not with a“ flaming sword of wrath,” but with hisses softly uttered, and by gentle tokens of polite disapprobation, She used at her parties to tell her friends, that her cabinet was crowded with letters of the most impassioned lovey from persons of the first fame, distinction, and opi | IN FRANCE, 50 fence; and, when conversation began to pause, she would introduce some of these melting epistles, which she is said to have read with a bewite hing pathos, and never failed to close the fond recital by expressions of - the tenderest Bity for the sufferings of their ill-starred authors. She bas declared, that some of her lovers equal the Belvidere Apollo in beauty, but that she never has yet seen that being, who was perfect enough to be entitled to the possession of her affections. Do fot smile. Madame R—— is a disciple of Diana, €ven slander pays incessant homage to her chastity, and rumour has whispered, in every corner of Paris, that her husband is only admitted to theshonour of supplying the finances of her splendid and -costly €stablishment. Madame R—— has not yet produced any of the beautiful and eloquent arguments of Cor- melia, to disprove the strange assertion. Her chamber which constitutes one of the sights of Paris, and which, after what has been just mentioned, may be justly considered, in or out of France, asa great curiosity, is fitted up ina style of considerable taste, and even Magnificence. The bed upon which this charming Statue reposes, isa superb sofa, raised upon a pedes- tal, the ascent to which is by a flight of cedar steps ; on each side are altars, on which are placed Hercula- neum vases of flowers, and a large antique lamp of gold; the back of the bed is formed by an immense pier glass, and the curtains, which are of the most costly muslin, festooned with golden tassels, descend in beautiful drapery from a floral crown of gold. madhouse. I hope, for the sake of society, and the | repose of the world, that the rest of Madame R. s admirers have not united to their passion the bewil- dered imagination, which fatally distinguished, and, finally closed, the career of her imperial lover. | Monsieur R is very polite to the English, and. his letters ensure the greatest attention wherever they are produced. | On a Sunday evening, I went witha party to Tivoli,, a favourite place of amusement with the Parisians., At the entrance we found, as at all the public places,, a guard of horse and foot. The admission is twenty’ sols. The evening was very fine, and we passed im-» mense. crowds of people, who were flocking to the: same place, amongst whom were many elegant, we Li dressed women, wholly unattended by gentlemen, a! circumstance by no means unusual in Paris. Tivoli seemed to be raised by the magic touch of enehant-- ment: we entered upon gravelled walks, which were: cut through little winding and intersecting hillocks of box; those which formed the sides were surmounted! by orange trees, presenting a beautiful colonnade,, immediately after we had passed them, we proceeded! through an elegant treillage of honey suckles, roses,, and eglantine, which formed the grand entrance to) the garden, and here a most animated scene of festi-- vity opened upon us; on one side were rope dancers, people riding at the ring, groups of persons playing att shuttlecock, which seemed to be the favourite, and If may add, the most ridiculous diversion; on the other side were dancers, tumblers, mountebanks, and par-: ties, all with gay countenances, seated in little bow-. ers, enjoying lemonade and ices. In the centre ag we advanced, were about three hundred people, dance ing the favourite waltz imported from Germany., Thee attitudes of this dance are very graceful, but theyy would not altogether accord with English female no-~ tions of delicacy. Ata late fashionable Parisian ball, a gentleman present was requested by the lady of the | IN FRANCE, . 62 house, to waltz with a friend of hers, who was with- out a partner. The person of this neglected fair, was a little inclined to the meagre. The gallant without the least embarrassment, declined, observing, * Ah! ma chere Madame qu’exigez vous de moi, na savez vous pas quelle n’a point de sein?’ In the middle of the platform of the dancers, a very fine full band was playing. At the end of this raised stage, a very ca- pacious Indian marquee was erected, which was beau« tifuliy illuminated with variegated lamps, and under its broad canopy a large concourse of people were seated, some were enjoying conversation, some were playing at buillotte, drinking coffee, &c. behind this build- ing was a noble corinthian temple, from the doors of which were covered trellis walks, leading to spacious gardens, formed to display the different tastes of the English, French, and Dutch nations, whose respec- tive names they bore. These gardens are intersected by little canals, upon which several persons were amusing themselves with the diversion of canoe rac- ing. The whole was illuminated by large patent re- flecting lamps, which shed a lustre almost as brilliant asthe day. A few English were present, amongst.’ them were the duchess of Cumberland, and a few other ladies. These gardens, previous to the Revolu- tion, were the property of a wealthy minister of France, who, it is said, expended near one hundred. thousand pounds sterling, in bringing them to per- fection, which he just saw accomplished, when he. Closed his eyes upon the scaffold. The nation became their next proprietor, who sold them for a large sum, of money to their present owners. From this place we went to Frescati, a promenade, frequented by the first beauty and fashion of Paris,. who generally assemble about half past ten o’clock, after the opera is concluded. No admission money: ig required, but, singular as it may seem, no impro- per intruder has yet appeared, a circumstance which may be accounted for by the we which well-bred VOL, XXKVII. G 62 CARR'S STRANGER. society evér maititains over vulgarity. Frescati is situated in the Italian Boulevard: was formerly the residence of a nobleman of large fortune, and has also undergone the usual transition of revolutionary confis- cation. The streets leading to it were filled with carriages. After ascending a flight of steps, from a handsome court yard, we entered a beautiful ball, lined with pier-glasses, and decorated with festoons of artificial Howers, at the end of it was a fine statue of Venus de Medicis. Ou one side of this image was an arch, leading into a suite of six magnificent apart- ments, which were superbly gilt, painted, and also covered with pier-glasses, and lustres of fine diamond- cut glass, which latter looked like so many little glit- tering cascades. Each room was in a blaze of light, and filled with parties taking ices, or drinking coffee, Each room communicated with the others by arches, or folding doors of mirrors. The garden which is small, but very tastefully disposed, is composed of ’ three walks, lined with orange and acaciatrees, and vases _ ofroses; at the end is a tower mounted on a rock, ; temples, and rustic bridges; and on each side of the walks are little labyrinth bowers. On the side next) to thé Boulevard, is a terrace, commanding the whele: scene, lined on each side with beautiful vases of’ flowers, and terminated at each end bv alcoves, lined. with mirrors: here, in the course o« an hour, the: astonished and admiring stranger may see near three: thousand females of the first beauty and distinction in| Paris, whose cheeks are no longer disfigured by the: corrosion of rouge, and who, by their symmetry and! grace, would induce him to believe, that the loveliest! figures in Greece, in her proudest zra, were revived,, and moving before him. The English convent, or, as it is called, the con-: vent of blue nuns, in the Rue de St. Victoire, is the: only establishment of the kind which, throughout! the republic, has survived the Revolution. To what! cause its exclusive protection is attributable, is not,, ; IN FRANCE. wae 63 | I believe, correctly knows; but though this spot of sacred seclusion has escaped the final stroke of exter- mination, it has sustained an ample share of the ge- neral desolation. During the time of.terror, it was converted into the crowded prison of the female nobi- lity, who were here confined, and afterwards dragged from its cloisters, and butchered by the guillotine, or the daggers of assassins. 1 had a letter of introduc-, tion to Mrs. S——, one of the sisterhood,’ a-lady of distinguished family in England: a dignified dejec- tion overspread her countenance, and her figure. seemed much emaciated by the scenes of horror through which she had passed. She informed me. that when, the nuns were in astate of arrest, by the. order of Robespierre, the convent was-so crowded with prisoners, that they were. obliged to eat their wretched meals in three different divisions: the places of the unhappy beings who were led off to ex-. ecution being immediately filled by fresh victims. _ Amongst those who suffered, was the beautiful young duchesse de Biron, said to be one of the love- liest women of the French court. Her fate was sin- gular, and horrible. One morning, two. of. the. 