166 CHAP. XVI. MONSIEUR CHARLES. frightful period of its long denunciation, by stolen, secluded and unfinished displays of its spirit and form, contemplated its return with animated clation, or beheld its approach, unimpressed with those doubts or prejudices which religious, as well as secular competitions, very frequently excite; in that auspicious hour, when the policy, if not the piety of a powerful government, restored it to the French people. The subject is highly interesting; but I must resign it to abler pens for more ample discussion. I was much gratified by being presented to the celebrated philosopher Mons. Charles, by Madame S. He has a suite of noble apartments in the Louvre, which have been bestowed upon him by the government, as a grateful reward for his having presented to the nation his magnificent collection of philosophical apparatus. He has also, in consideration of his ability and experience, been constituted the principal lecturer on philosophy. In these rooms his valuable and costly donation is arranged. In the centre of the dome of the first apartment, called the Hall of Electricity, is suspended the car of the first balloon which was inflated with inflammable air, in which heand his brother ascended in the afternoon of the 1st of December, 1783, in which they continued in the air for an hour and three quarters; and after they had descended, Mons. C rose alone to the astonishing height of 10,500 feet. In the same room are immense electrical machines and batteries, some of which had been presented to him by Madame S. In this room, amongst many other fanciful figures, which are used for the purpose of enlivening the solemnity of a philo sophical OPTICAL ILLUSION. 167 XVI. sophical lecture by exciting sentiments of innocent gayety, was CHAP. a little Cupid. The tiny god, with his arrow in his hand, was insulated upon a throne of glass, and was charged with that electric fluid which not a little resembles the subtle spirit of his nature. The youngest daughter of Madame S, who accompanied us, was requested to touch it. In a moment it discharged its penetrating spark-Oh! how that little god "has alarmed me !" said the recoiling fair one, whose youthful countenance surprise had imbued with new beauties; " but yet," said she, recovering herself, "he does not hurt." This little sally may be considered as a specimen of that playful sprightliness which is so much the characteristic of the french female. In the centre of another room, dedicated to optics, as we entered, we saw a beautiful nosegay in a vase, which appeared to be composed of the rarest flowers. I approached it with an intention of inhaling its fragrance, when, lo! my hand passed through it. It was an exquisite optical illusion. "Ah!" said my elegant and moralising companion, Madame. S smiling, "of such flowers has Happiness composed her wreath : it is thus she gladdens with it the eye of Hope; but the hand of Expectation can never grasp it." The graceful moral deserves a more lasting record than it will find in these few and perishable pages. In the other rooms are all sorts of apparatus for trying experiments in the various branches of that department of science, over which Mons. C so ably presides. The merit of Mons. C has no rival but in his mo- 168 CHAP. XVI. desty. Considering the rank and estimation which he bears in the republic, his external appearance is singularly unassuming. I have been with him in the gardens of the Thuilleries, when they were thronged with the fashion and gayety of Paris, where he has appeared in a suit of plain brown cloth, an old round hat with a little national cockade in it, under which he presented a countenance full of character, talent and animation. In this homely puritan garb, he excited more respectful curiosity, wherever he moved, than some generals who paraded before us in dresses upon which the tailor and embroiderer had long laboured, and who added to their stature by laced hats entirely filled with gaudy buoyant plumes. From Mons. Charles we went to the church of St. Rocque, in the Rue St. Honorè. As we entered, the effect of a fine painting of our Saviour crucified, upon which the sun was shining with great glory, placed at the extremity of the church, and seen through several lessening arches of faint, increasing shade, was very grand. This church has been more than once the scene of revolutionary carnage. Its elegant front is much disfigured, and the doors are perforated, in a great number of places, by the ball of cannon and the shot of musketry. Mass was performing in the church; but we saw only few worshippers, and those were chiefly old women and little girls. From St. Rocque we proceeded to the Hôtel des Invalides, the chapel and dome of which are so justly celebrated. The front is inferior to the military hospital at Chelsea, Chelsea, to which it bears some resemblance. The chapel is converted into the Hall of Victory, in which, with great taste, are suspended, under descriptive medallions, the banners of the enemies of the republic, which have been taken during the late war, the numbers of which are immense. The same decoration adorns the pilasters and gallery at the vast, magnificent dome at the end of the hall. My eye was naturally occupied, immediately after we had entered, in searching amongst the most battered of the banners, for the british colours: at last I discovered the jack and ensign of an english man of war, pierced with shot-holes, and blackened with smoke, looking very sulky, and indignantly, amongst the finery, and tawdry tatters of italian and turkish standards. In the course of this pursuit, I caught the intelligent eye of Madame S. She immediately assigned to my search the proper motive. "Ah!" said she, laughingly, and patting me on the arm with her fan, " we are, as you see, my dear Englishman, very vain; and you are very proud." A stranger to the late calamitous war, unable to marshal in his mind the enemies of the republic, might here, with a glance of his eye, whilst contemplating this poor result of devastation, enumerate the foes of France, and appreciate the facilities or difficultics of the victory. In observing, amidst this gaudy show of captive colours, only two hardworn banners of their rival enemy, he would draw a conclusion too flattering and familiar to an English ear, to render it necessary to be recorded here. 169 CHAP. XVI. 170 СНАР. XVI. ENEMIES COLOURS. Upon the shattered standards of Austria he would confer the meed of merited applause for heroic, although unprevailing bravery. To the banners of Prussia he would say, "I know not whether principle or policy, or treachery, or corruption, deterred you "from the field - Your looks exhibit no proofs of sincere "resistance - However, you never belonged to cowards." The neapolitan ensign might excite such sentiments as these: "You appear for a short time to have faced the battle "were unfortunate, and soon retired." You To the gaudy drapeaus of the italian and turkish legions, which every where present the appearance of belonging to the wardrobe of a pantomimic hero, he would observe, "The "scent of the battle has not perfumed you; its smoke has not "sullied your shining, silky sides. Ye appear in numbers, "but display no marks of having waved before a brave, united "and energetic band." In this manner might he trace the various fate of the war. Upon several of the staffs only two or three shreds of colours are to be seen adhering. These are chiefly Austrian. On each side of the chapel are large, and some of them valuable paintings, by the french masters, representing the conquests of the french armies at different eras. It is a matter not unworthy of observation, that although the revolution with a keen, and savage eye, explored too successfully, almost every vestige of a royal tendency, the beautiful pavement under the dome of the invalides has escaped destruction. The fleur de lis, surmounted by the crown of France, still |