Page images
PDF
EPUB

280

BIBLIOTHEQUE DU ROI.

66 une amie" of Fieschi's.

On our return we visited

:

the Bourse, which is very fine the fresco paintings are complete deceptions, they appear in such bold relief from the ground on which they are painted. This noble edifice is built of stone. I went through curiosity into the Court of Bankruptcy to hear French pleading. The judges who presided were grave looking personages: the advocates wore gowns, but no wigs.

In the Café Richelieu close by, we got some capital London porter. In the evening we went to Musard's concert, and on our way home had an ice each in the Rue de Rivoli.

Friday, 24th.

Called at the Hotel Windsor, and took Mr Hto the Bibliotheque Rue de Richelieu.

This is the most complete collection of the productions of human genius I have ever seen. The library contains upwards of 800,000 printed volumes, 72,000 MSS., 5000 volumes of engravings, and a valuable collection of antiques and medals.

The cabinet of medals and antiques, which you reach after traversing some libraries stored with the works of years, contains the Isiaque tables, the armour of Francis I., Henry IV., Sully, Louis XIV., and some others; the arm-chair of Dagobert, the remarkable chalice of agate, the sword of Malta; also, the seal of Michael Angelo ; a collection of Pagan divinities, a number of rare cameos,

[blocks in formation]

and coins of every nation. The reflections with which I surveyed the money of Tyre, of Sidon, of Athens, and of ancient Rome, were of rather a melancholy nature. Those nations were omnipotent in their day; and where are they now? We hoard with care the smallest coin that marks them to have ever existed.

The gallery containing the MSS. is adorned with the paintings of Romanelli. Among the more curious autographs are the MSS. of Gallileus, and of Leonardi di Vinci: Petrarch's MSS. of Virgil: Letters from Henry IV. to the lovely Gabrielle d' Estrées: Telemachus in the hand-writing of Fenelon: notes of many of the French authors; and the memoirs of Louis XIV. in his own hand-writing.

When I returned home, I sat down and delivered myself of a French letter to a friend in London. In the evening I went to M. E-'s soirée, which I found much more numerously attended than the former, owing to the fine weather. We had some enchanting singing, a number of pretty faces, and some excellent dancing. Notwithstanding it was June, and in Paris, I managed to get through seven sets of quadrilles, and some gallopes.

CHAPTER XV.

Père la chaise-Antiquity of Tombs - Abelard and Eloise Epitaphs Approach of a Storm - Dialogue near Monument

a

Julia and Frederique View from the Chapel St. Sulpice - Versailes Hotel · Reflections

on Inns.

Saturday, June 25th.

I DEVOTED the afternoon of this day to visit the celebrated cemetery of Père la Chaise.

It appears a product of human pride to apportion a fitting place wherein to deposit our remains, when, by the destined decree of Providence, our eternal part shall be summoned to another, I trust, a better world. The oldest, and, as we conceive, most barbarous nations, did not neglect this duty. Pyramids of the greatest magnificence marked the respect of the Egyptians: Greece raised her altars, and Rome her temples, to her brave heroes and illustrious senators: even the savages pay every

ANTIQUITY OF TOMBS.

283

homage their uncivilized state permits, to the bones of their fathers; and the burial-ground which I have just entered, is a meet and fitting restingplace for those who die in the capital of France.

The hour I had chosen was peculiarly adapted to the sombre ideas the scene around called forth: day had not yet departed, the sun still lingered in the west, and as the yellow light of his expiring beams glanced down the long, dark vistas of cypress-trees, which on every side shaded the numerous tombs, I could, with very little difficulty, have imagined myself walking by the light of stained glass, through the long-drawn aisles of some vast cathedral. The tombs appertain to persons of every rank, age, and clime. The Briton, the Russian, the Spaniard; Protestant, Jew, and Catholic, lie in the one common breast-Earth knows no distinction in her children. If many gave themselves the trouble to think of this in their life-time, we would have much less of animosities, or religious distinctions. Strange! - that which each regards as of the highest importance, he is not satisfied to work out alone, but must trouble himself with taking care of the salvation of other people! I much fear, often without invoking the same protection as St. Paul, who prayed; "Lord, grant that while I preach salvation unto others, I may not myself become a cast-away."

I walked along, until I reached the tomb, sacred to the memory of Abelard and Eloise: - this is

[blocks in formation]

built in the style of Gothic architecture ;-light, springing arches contrast well with the solid tomb: the figures of the hapless pair are sculptured at full length on the top. I sighed, as I muttered;"Constant lovers, in life divided, by death united." I stumbled on the tomb of Talma, the glory of the French stage: he is not long dead, and his monument is consequently new. It is very simple, merely a stone bearing his name, -Talma. It is enough! The names also of such men as Molière, De la Fontaine, Fourcroy, Delille, are alone sufficient to recal their fame. I read with more of reverence and respect these simple names, yet mighty in the strength of their simplicity, inscribed on their tombs by their admiring friends, than the lengthy eulogies and titles with which the vanity of the living wishes to conceal the crimes of the dead.

Several of the epitaphs are inexpressibly touching. "Here lies the best friend I ever had, my brother Isabey,"-contains more in its brief space than all the tribute the most praise-encumbered stone could express: it speaks straight to the heart, like the sublime inscription on the monument of Abbé le Batteux, " Amicus amico."

I cast my eyes upwards towards the summer sky, and beheld that a storm was at hand. On one side where the sun shone on the Seine, bathing with a golden glow the waters of the river, all was quiet

« PreviousContinue »