and universal. Throughout the house the most profound silence is rigidly, but sympathetically enforced; so great is the apprehension of losing a single monosyllable in these interesting moments, which always appear too short. To this silence succeed shouts of acclamation and bursts of applause. I never knew any performer command the like but Mademoiselle SAINVAL the elder.
In no character which MOLE performs, does he ever fail to deserve applause; but there is one, above all, which has infinitely added to his reputation. It is that of the _Vieux Celibataire_ in the comedy of the same name by COLIN D’HARLEVILLE, which he personates with a good humoured frankness, an air of indolence and apathy, and at the same time a grace that will drive to despair any one who shall venture to take up this part after him. On seeing him in it, one can scarcely believe that he is the same man who renders with such warmth and feeling the part of _Alceste_ in the _Misanthrope_, and in the _Suite de Moliere_; but MOLE, imbibing his talent from nature, is diversified like her.
Caressed by the women, associating with the most amiable persons both of the court and the town, and, in short, idolized by the public, till the revolution, no performer led a more agreeable life than MOLE. However, he was not proscribed through it, and this was his fault. Not having been imprisoned like the other actors of the old _Comedie Francaise_, he had no share in their triumph on their reappearance, and it even required all his talent to maintain his ground; but, as it appears that no serious error could be laid to his charge, and as every thing is forgotten in the progress of events, he resumed part of his ascendency. I shall terminate this article or panegyric, call it which you please, by observing that whenever MOLE shall retire from the _Theatre Francais_, and his age precludes a contrary hope, the best stock-pieces can no longer be acted.[1]
FLEURY. A man can no more be a comedian in spite of Thalia than a poet in spite of Minerva. Of this FLEURY affords a proof. This actor is indebted to the revolution for the reputation he now enjoys; but what is singular, it is not for having shewn himself the friend of that great political convulsion. Nature has done little for him. His appearance is common; his countenance, stern; his voice, hoarse; and his delivery, embarrassed; so much so that he speaks only by splitting his syllables. A stammering lover! MOLE, it is true, sometimes indulged in a sort of stammer, but it was suited to the moment, and not when he had to express the ardour of love. A lover, such as is represented to us in all French comedies, is a being highly favoured by Nature, and FLEURY shews him only as much neglected by her. A great deal of assurance and a habit of the stage, a warmth which proceeds from the head only, and a sort of art to disguise his defects, with him supply the place of talent. Although naturally very heavy, he strives to appear light and airy in the parts of _petits-maitres_, and his great means of success consist in turning round on his heel. He was calculated for playing _grims_ (which I shall soon explain), and he proves this truth in the little comedy of _Les Deux Pages_, taken from the life of the king of Prussia, the great Frederic, of whose caricature he is the living model. He wished to play capital parts, the parts of MOLE, and he completely failed. He ventured to appear in the _Inconstant_, in which MOLE is captivating, and it was only to his disgrace. Being compelled to relinquish this absurd pretension, he now confines himself to new or secondary parts, in the former of which he has to dread no humiliating comparison, and the latter are not worthy to be mentioned.
Friends within and without the theatre, and the spirit of party, have, however, brought FLEURY into fashion. He will, doubtless, preserve his vogue; for, in Paris, when a man has once got a name, he may dispense with talent:
“_Des reputations; on ne sait pourquoi!”
says GRESSET, the poet, in his comedy of _Le Mechant_, speaking of those which are acquired in the capital of France.
BAPTISTE the elder. But for the revolution, he too would, in all probability, never have figured on the _Theatre Francais_. When all privileges were abolished, a theatre was opened in the _Rue Culture St. Catherine_ in Paris, and BAPTISTE was sent for from Rouen to perform the first parts. In _Robert Chef des Brigands_ and _La Mere Coupable_, two _drames_, the one almost as full of improbabilities as the other, he had great success; but in _Le Glorieux_ he acquired a reputation almost as gigantic as his stature, and as brilliant as his coat covered with spangles. This was the part in which BELLECOURT excelled, and which had been respected even by MOLE. The latter at length appeared in it; but irony, which is the basis of this character, was not his talent: yet MOLE having seen the court, and knowing in what manner noblemen conducted themselves, BAPTISTE had an opportunity of correcting himself by him in the part of _Le Glorieux_.
The _Theatre Francais_ being in want of a performer for such characters, BAPTISTE was called in. Figure to yourself the person of Don Quixote, and you will have an idea of that of this actor, whose countenance, however, is unmeaning, and whose voice seems to issue from the mouth of a speaking-trumpet.
Jeunes premiers, _or young lovers, in Comedy_.
ST. FAL, DUPONT, DAMAS, and ARMAND.
One might assemble what is best in these four actors, without making one perfect _lover_. I have already spoken of the first three, who, in comedy, have nearly the same defects as in tragedy. As for the fourth, he is young; but unfortunately for him, he has no other recommendation.
_Characters of_ Grims, _or_ Roles a manteau.[2]
GRANDMENIL and CAUMONT.
GRANDMENIL. This performer is, perhaps, the only one who has preserved what the French critics call _la tradition_, that is, a traditionary knowledge of the old school, or of the style in which players formerly acted, and especially in the time of MOLIERE. This would be an advantage for him, but for a defect which it is not in his power to remedy; for what avails justness of diction when a speaker can no longer make himself heard? And this is the case with GRANDMENIL. However, I would advise you to see him in the character of the _Avare_ (in MOLIERE’S comedy of that name) which suits him perfectly. By placing yourself near the stage, you might lose nothing of the truth and variety of his delivery, as well as of the play of his countenance, which is facilitated by his excessive meagreness, and to which his sharp black eyes give much vivacity.
GRANDMENIL is member of the National Institute.
CAUMONT. He possesses that in which his principal in this cast of parts is deficient, and little more. One continually sees the efforts he makes to be comic, which sufficiently announces that he is not naturally so. However, he has a sort of art, which consists in straining his acting a little without overcharging it.
_Parts of Valets_.
DUGAZON, DAZINCOURT, and LAROCHELLE.
DUGAZON. One may say much good and much ill of this actor, and yet be perfectly correct. He has no small share of warmth and comic humour. He plays sometimes as if by inspiration; but more frequently too he charges his parts immoderately. PREVILLE, who is no common authority, said of DUGAZON: “How well he can play, if he is in the humour!” He is but seldom in the humour, and when he is requested not to overcharge his parts, ’tis then that he charges them most. Not that he is a spoiled child of the public; for they even treat him sometimes with severity. True it is that he is reproached for his conduct during the storms of the revolution. Although advanced in years, he became Aide-de-camp to SANTERRE.—-SANTERRE! An execrable name, and almost generally execrated! Is then a mixture of horror and ridicule one of the characteristics of the revolution? And must a painful remembrance come to interrupt a recital which ought to recall cheerful ideas only? In his quality of Aide-de-camp to the Commandant of the national guard of Paris, DUGAZON was directed to superintend the interment of the unfortunate Lewis XVI, and in order to consume in an instant the body of that prince, whose pensioner he had been, he caused it to be placed in a bed of quick lime. No doubt, DUGAZON did no more than execute the orders he received; but he was to blame in putting himself in a situation to receive them.
Not to return too abruptly to the tone which suits an article wherein I am speaking of actors playing comic parts, I shall relate a circumstance which had well nigh become tragic, in regard to DUGAZON, and which paints the temper of the time when it took place. Being an author as well as an actor, DUGAZON had written a little comedy, entitled _Le Modere_. It was his intention to depress the quality indicated by the title. However, he was thought to have treated his subject ill, and, after all, to have made his _modere_ an honest man. In consequence of this opinion, at the very moment when he was coming off the stage, after having personated that character in his piece, he was apprehended and taken to prison.
DAZINCOURT. In no respect can the same reproaches be addressed to him as to DUGAZON; but as to what concerns the art, it may be said that if DUGAZON goes beyond the mark, DAZINCOURT falls short of it. PREVILLE said of the latter as a comedian: “Leaving pleasantry out of the question, DAZINCOURT is well enough.” Nothing can be added to the opinion of that great master.
LAROCHELLE. He has warmth, truth, and much comic humour; but is sometimes a little inclined to charge his parts. He has a good stage face. It appears that he can only perform parts not overlong, as his voice easily becomes hoarse. This is a misfortune both for himself and the public; for he really might make a good comedian.
There are a few secondary actors in the comic line, such as BAPTISTE the younger, who performs in much too silly a manner his parts of simpletons, and one DUBLIN, who is the ostensible courier; not to speak of some others, whose parts are of little importance.
_January 22, in continuation,_
_Principal female Characters, in Comedy._
Mesdemoiselles CONTAT, and MEZERAY.–Madame TALMA.
Mademoiselle CONTAT. This actress has really brought about a revolution in the theatre. Before her time, the essential requisites for the parts which she performs, were sensibility, decorum, nobleness, and dignity, even in diction, as well as in gestures, and deportment. Those qualities are not incompatible with the grace, the elegance of manners, and the playfulness also required by those characters, the principal object of which is to interest and please, which ought only to touch lightly on comic humour, and not be assimilated to that of chambermaids, as is done by Mademoiselle CONTAT. A great coquette, for instance, like _Celimene_ in the _Misanthrope_, ought not to be represented as a girl of the town, nor _Madame de Clainville_, in the pretty little comedy of _La Gageure_, as a shopkeeper’s wife.
The innovation made by Mademoiselle CONTAT was not passed over without remonstrance. Those strict judges, those conservators of rules, those arbiters of taste, in short, who had been long in the habit of frequenting the theatre, protested loudly against this new manner of playing the principal characters. “That is not becoming!” exclaimed they incessantly: which signified “that is not the truth!” But what could the feeble remonstrances of the old against the warm applause of the young?
Mademoiselle CONTAT had a charming person, of which you may still be convinced. She was not then, as she is now, overloaded with _embonpoint_, and, though rather inclined to stoop, could avail herself of the advantages of an elevated stature. None of the resources of the toilet were neglected by her, and for a long time the most elegant women in Paris took the _ton_ for dress from Mademoiselle CONTAT. Besides, she always had a delicacy of discrimination in her delivery, and a varied sprightliness in the _minutiae_ of her acting. Her voice, though sometimes rather shrill, is not deficient in agreeableness, but is easily modulated, except when it is necessary for her to express feeling. The inferiority of Mademoiselle CONTAT on this head is particularly remarkable when she plays with MOLE. In a very indifferent comedy, called _Le Jaloux sans amour_, at the conclusion of which the husband entreats his wife to pardon his faults, MOLE contrives to find accents so tender, so affecting; he envelops his voice, as it were, with sounds so soft, so mellow, and at the same time so delicate, that the audience, fearing to lose the most trifling intonation, dare not draw their breath. Mademoiselle CONTAT replies, and, although she has to express the same degree of feeling, the charm is broken.
Being aware that the want of nobleness and sensibility was a great obstacle to her success, this actress endeavoured to insure it by performing characters which require not those two qualities. The first she selected for her purpose was _Susanne_ in the _Mariage de Figaro_. _Susanne_ is an elegant and artful chambermaid; and Mademoiselle CONTAT possessed every requisite for representing well the part. She had resigned the principal character in the piece to Mademoiselle SAINVAL the younger, an actress who was celebrated in tragedy, but had never before appeared in comedy. On this occasion, I saw Mademoiselle SAINVAL play that ungracious part with a truth, a grace, a nobleness, a dignity, a perfection in short, of which no idea had yet been entertained in Paris.
Another part in which Mademoiselle CONTAT also rendered herself famous, is that of _Madame Evrard_, in the _Vieux Celibataire_. –_Madame Evrard_ is an imperious, cunning, and roguish housekeeper; and this actress has no difficulty in seizing the _ton_ suitable to such a character. This could not be done by one habituated to a more noble manner. Mademoiselle CONTAT has not followed the impulse of Nature, who intended her for the characters of _soubrettes_; but, when she made her _debut_, there were in that cast of parts three or four women not deficient in merit, and it would have taken her a long time to make her way through them.
The parts which Mademoiselle CONTAT plays at present with the greatest success are those in the pieces of MARIVAUX, which all bear a strong resemblance, and the nature of which she alters; for it is also one of her defects to change always the character drawn by the author. The reputation enjoyed by this actress is prodigious; and such a _critique_ as the one I am now writing would raise in Paris a general clamour. Her defects, it is true, are less prominent at this day, when hereditary rank is annihilated; and merit, more than manners, raises men to the highest stations. Besides, it is a presumption inherent in the Parisians to believe that they never can be mistaken. To reason with them on taste is useless; it is impossible to compel them to retract when they have once said “_Cela est charmant_.”
Before I take leave of Mademoiselle CONTAT, I shall observe that there exists in the _Theatre Francais_ a little league, of which she is the head. Besides herself, it is composed of Mademoiselle DEVIENNE, DAZINCOURT, and FLEURY. I am confidently assured that the choice and reception of pieces, and the _debut_ of performers depend entirely on them. As none of them possess all the requisites for their several casts of parts, they take care to play no other than pieces of an equivocal kind, in which neither _bon ton_, nor _vis comica_ is to be found. They avoid, above all, those of MOLIERE and REGNARD, and are extremely fond of the comedies of MARIVAUX, in which masters and lackies express themselves and act much alike. The unison is then perfect, and some people call this _de l’ensemble_, as if any could result from such a confusion of parts of an opposite nature. As for new pieces, the members of the league must have nothing but _papillotage_ (as the French call it), interspersed with allusions to their own talent, which the public never fail to applaud. When an author has inserted such compliments in his piece, he is sure of its being received, but not always of its being successful; for when the ground is bad, the tissue is good for nothing.
Mademoiselle MEZERAY. She is of the school of Mademoiselle CONTAT, whence have issued only feeble pupils. But she is very pretty, and has the finest eyes imaginable. She plays the parts of young coquettes, in which her principal dares no longer appear. Without being vulgar in her manner, one cannot say that she has dignity. As for sensibility, she expresses it still less than Mademoiselle CONTAT. However, the absence of this sentiment is a defect which is said to be now common among the French. Indeed, if it be true that they are fickle, and this few will deny, the feeling they possess cannot be lasting.
Madame TALMA. I have already spoken of her merits as a comic actress, when I mentioned her as a tragedian.
_Parts of young Lovers._
Mesdemoiselles MARS, BOURGOIN, and GROS.
Mademoiselle MARS. She delivers in an ingenuous manner innocent parts, and those of lovers. She has modest graces, an interesting countenance, and appears exceedingly handsome on the stage. But she will never be a true actress.
Mademoiselle BOURGOIN. She has some disposition for comedy, which she neglects, and has none for tragedy, in which she is ambitious to figure. I have already alluded to her beauty, which is that of a pretty _grisette_.
Mademoiselle GROS. She is the pupil of DUGAZON, and made her _debut_ in tragedy. The newspaper-writers transformed her into Melpomene, yet so rapid was her decline, that presently she was scarcely more than a waiting woman to Thalia.
Characters, _or foolish Mothers_.
Mesdemoiselles LACHAISSAIGNE and THENARD.
The latter of these titles explains the former. In fact, this cast of parts consists of _characters_, that is, foolish or crabbed old women, antiquated dowagers in love, &c. Commonly, these parts are taken up by actresses grown too old for playing _soubrettes_; but to perform them well, requires no trifling share of comic humour; for, in general, they are charged with it. At the present day, this department may be considered as vacant. Mademoiselle LACHAISSAIGNE, who is at the head of it, is very old, and never had the requisites for performing in it to advantage. Mademoiselle THENARD begins to _double_ her in this line of acting, but in a manner neither more sprightly nor more captivating.
_Parts of_ Soubrettes _or Chambermaids_.
Mesdemoiselles DEVIENNE and DESBROSSES.
Mademoiselle DEVIENNE. If Mademoiselle CONTAT changes the principal characters in comedy into those of chambermaids, Mademoiselle DEVIENNE does the contrary, and from the same motive, namely, because she is deficient in the requisites for her cast of parts, such as warmth, comic truth, and vivacity. Yet, while she assumes the airs of a fine lady, she takes care to dwell on the slightest _equivoque_; so that what would be no more than gay in the mouth of another woman, in hers becomes indecent. As she is a mannerist in her acting, some think it perfect, and they say too that she is charming. However, she must have been very handsome.
Mademoiselle DESBROSSES. The public say nothing of her, and I think this is all she can wish for.
* * * * *
I have now passed in review before you those who are charged to display to advantage the dramatic riches bequeathed to the French nation by CORNEILLE, RACINE, MOLIERE, CREBILLON, VOLTAIRE, REGNARD, &c. &c. &c. If it be impossible to squander them, at least they may at present be considered as no more than a buried treasure. Although the _chefs d’oeuvre_ of those masters of the stage are still frequently represented, and the public even appear to see them with greater pleasure than new pieces, they no longer communicate that electric fire which inflames genius, and (if I may use the expression) renders it productive. A great man can, it is true, create every thing himself; but there are minds which require an impulse to be set in motion. Without a CORNEILLE, perhaps the French nation would not have had a RACINE.
Formerly, people went to the _Theatre Francais_ in order to hear, as it were, a continual course of eloquence, elocution, and pronunciation. It even had the advantage over the pulpit and the bar, where vivacity of expression was prohibited or restricted. Many a sacred or profane orator came hither, either privately or publicly, to study the art by which great actors, at pleasure, worked on the feelings of the audience, and charmed their very soul. It was, above all, at the _Theatre Francais_ that foreigners might have learned to pronounce well the French language. The audience shuddered at the smallest fault of pronunciation committed by a performer, and a thousand voices instantly corrected him. At the present day, the comedians insist that it belongs to them alone to form rules on this point, and they now and then seem to vie with each other in despising those already established. The audience being perhaps too indulgent, they stand uncorrected.
Whether or not the _Theatre Francais_ will recover its former fame, is a question which Time alone can determine. Undoubtedly, many persons of a true taste and an experienced ear have disappeared, and no one now seems inclined to say to the performers: “That is the point which you must attain, and at which you must stop, if you wish not to appear deficient, or to overact your part.” But the fact is, they are without a good model, and the spectators, in general, are strangers to the _minutiae/i> of dramatic excellence. In tragedy, indeed, I am inclined to think that there never existed at the _Theatre Francais_ such a deficiency of superior talents. When LEKAIN rose into fame, there were not, I have been told, any male performers who went as far as himself, though several possessed separately the qualifications necessary for that line. However, there was Mademoiselle DUMESNIL, a pupil of nature, from whom he might learn to express all the passions; while from Mademoiselle CLAIRON he might snatch all the secrets of art.
As for Comedy, it is almost in as desperate a situation. The _ton_ of society and that of comedians may have a reciprocal influence, and the revolution having tended to degrade the performance of the latter, the consequences may recoil on the former. But here I must stop.–I shall only add that it is not to the revolution that the decline of the art, either in tragedy or comedy, is to be imputed. It is, I understand, owing to intrigue, which has, for a long time past, introduced pitiful performers on the stage of the _Theatre Francais_, and to a multiplicity of other causes which it would be too tedious to discuss, or even to mention. Notwithstanding the encomiums daily lavished on the performers by the venal pen of newspaper writers, the truth is well known here on this subject. Endeavours are made by the government to repair the mischief by forming pupils; but how are they to be formed without good masters or good models?
[Footnote 1: It must grieve every admirer of worth and talent to hear that MOLE is now no more. Not long since he paid the debt of nature. As an actor, it is more than probable that “we ne’er shall look on his like again.”]
[Footnote 2: The word _Grim_, in French theatrical language, is probably derived from _grimace_, and the expression of _Roles a manteau_ arises from the personages which they represent being old men, who generally appear on the stage with a cloak.]
LETTER LVI.
_Paris, January 24, 1802._
Among the customs introduced here since the revolution, that of women appearing in public in male attire is very prevalent. The more the Police endeavours to put a stop to this extravagant whim, the more some females seek excuses for persisting in it: the one makes a pretext of business which obliges her to travel frequently, and thinks she is authorized to wear men’s clothes as being more convenient on a journey; another, of truly-elegant form, dresses herself in this manner, because she wishes to attract more notice by singularity, without reflecting that, in laying aside her proper garb, she loses those feminine graces, the all-seductive accompaniments of beauty. Formerly, indeed, nothing could tend more to disguise the real shape of a woman than the
COSTUME OF THE FRENCH LADIES.
A head-dress, rising upwards of half a yard in height, seemed to place her face near the middle of her body; her stomach was compressed into a stiff case of whalebone, which checked respiration, and deprived her almost of the power of eating; while a pair of cumbersome hoops, placed on her hips, gave to her petticoats the amplitude of a small elliptical, inflated balloon. Under these strange accoutrements, it would, at first sight, almost have puzzled BUFFON himself to decide in what species such a female animal should be classed. However, this is no longer an enigma.
With the parade of a court, all etiquette of dress disappeared. Divested of their uncouth and unbecoming habiliments, the women presently adopted a style of toilet not only more advantageous to the display of their charms, but also more analogous to modern manners.
No sooner was France proclaimed a republic, than the annals of republican antiquity were ransacked for models of female attire: the Roman tunic and Greek _cothurnus_ soon adorned the shoulders of the Parisian _elegantes_; and every antique statue or picture, relating to those periods of history, was, in some shape or another, rendered tributary to the ornament of their person.
This revolution in their dress has evidently tended to strengthen their constitution, and give them a pectoral _embonpoint_, very agreeable, no doubt, to the amateur of female proportion, but the too open exposure of which cannot, in a moral point of view, be altogether approved. These treasures are, in consequence, now as plentiful as they were before uncommon. You can scarcely move a step in Paris without seeing something of this kind to exercise your admiration. Many of those domains of love, which, under the old-fashioned dress, would have been considered as a flat country, now present, through a transparent crape, the perfect rotundity of two sweetly-rising hillocks. As prisoners, wan and disfigured by confinement, recover their health and fulness on being restored to liberty, so has the bosom of the Parisian belles, released from the busk and corset, experienced a salutary expansion.
In a political light, this must afford no small satisfaction to him who takes an interest in the physical improvement of the human species, as it tends to qualify them better for that maternal office, dictated by Nature, and which, in this country, has too long and too frequently been intrusted to the uncertain discharge of a mercenary hireling. Another advantage too arises from the established fashion. Thanks to the ease of their dress, the French ladies can now satisfy all the capacity of their appetite. Nothing prevents the stomach from performing its functions; nothing paralyzes the spring of that essential organ. Nor, indeed, can they be reproached with fastidiousness on that score. From the soup to the desert, they are not one moment idle: they eat of every thing on the table, and drink in due proportion. Not that I would by any means insinuate that they drink more than is necessary or proper. On the contrary, no women on earth are more temperate, in this respect, than the French; they, for the most part, mix water even with their weakest wine; but they also swallow two or three glasses of _vin de dessert_, without making an affected grimace, and what is better, they eat at this rate without any ill consequence, Now, a good appetite and good digestion must strengthen health, and, in general, tend to produce pectoral _embonpoint_.
In this capital, you no longer find among the fair sex those over-delicate constitutions, whose artificial existence could be maintained only by salts, essences, and distilled waters. Charms as fresh as those of Hebe, beauties which might rival the feminine softness of those of Venus, while they bespeak the vigour of Diana, and the bloom of Hygeia, are the advantages which distinguish many of the Parisian belles of the present day, and for which they are, in a great measure, indebted to the freedom they enjoy under the antique costume.
In no part of the world, perhaps, do women pay a more rigid attention to cleanliness in their person than in Paris. The frequent use of the tepid bath, and of every thing tending to preserve the beauty of their fine forms, employ their constant solicitude. So much care is not thrown away. No where, I believe, are women now to be seen more uniformly healthy, no where do they possess more the art of assisting nature; no where, in a word, are they better skilled in concealing and repairing the ravages of Time, not so much by the use of cosmetics, as by the tasteful manner in which they vary the decoration of their person.
LETTER LVII.
_Paris, January 25, 1802._
I have already observed that the general effervescence to which the revolution gave birth, soon extended to the seminaries of learning. The alarm-bell resounded even in the most silent of those retreats. Bands of insurgents, intermixed with women, children, and men of every condition, came each moment to interrupt the studies, and, forcing the students to range themselves under their filthy banner, presented to them the spectacle of every excess. It required not all this violence to disorganize institutions already become antiquated,[1] and few of which any longer enjoyed much consideration in the public opinion. The colleges and universities were deserted, and their exercises ceased. Not long after, they were suppressed. The only establishment of this description which has survived the storms of the revolution, and which is no less important from its utility than extensive in its object, is the
COLLEGE DE FRANCE.
It neither owed this exemption to its ancient celebrity, nor to the talents of its professors; but having no rich collections which could attract notice, no particular estates which could tempt cupidity, it was merely forgotten by the revolutionists, and their ignorance insured its preservation.
The _College de France_ is, at the present day, in this country, and perhaps in the rest of Europe, the only establishment where every branch of human knowledge is taught in its fullest extent. The object of this institution is to spread the most elevated notions of the sciences, to maintain and pave the way to the progress of literature, either by preserving the taste and purity of the ancient authors, or by exhibiting the order, lustre, and richness of the modern. Its duty is to be continually at the head of all the establishments of public instruction, in order to guide them, lead them on, and, as it were, light them with the torch of knowledge.
This college, which is situated in the _Place de Cambray_, _Rue St. Jacques_, was founded by Francis I. That monarch, distinguished from all cotemporaries by his genius, amiableness, and magnificence, saw in literature the source of the glory of princes, and of the civilization of the people. He loved and honoured it, not only in the writings of the learned, but in the learned themselves, whom he called about his person, at the same time loading them with encouragement and favours. It is singular that those times, so rude in many respects, were, nevertheless, productive of sentiments the most delicate and noble.
Truth never shuns princes who welcome it. Francis I was not suffered to remain ignorant of the deplorable state in which literature then was in France, and, though very young, he disdained not this information. Nothing, in fact, could approach nearer to barbarism. The impulse Charlemagne had given to study was checked. The torches he had lighted were on the point of being extinguished. That famous university which he had created had fallen into decline. A prey to all the cavils of pedantry, it substituted dispute and quibble to true philosophy.
Nothing was any longer talked of but the _five universals_, _substance_, and _accident_. All the fury of argument was manifested to know whether those were simple figures, or beings really existing, all things equally useful to the revival of knowledge and the happiness of mankind. The Hebrew and Greek tongues were scarcely, if at all, known; the living languages, little cultivated; Latin itself, then almost common, was taught in the most rude and imperfect manner. In short, the most learned body of the State had fallen into the most profound ignorance: a striking example of the necessity of renewing continually and maintaining the life of those bodies employed in instruction.
I am not speaking of the sciences, then entirely unknown. The languages were every thing at this period, on account of their connexion with religion.
The small number of men of merit whom the bad taste of the age had not reached, were striving to restore to literature its lustre, and to men’s minds their true direction; but, in order to revive the taste for good studies, it was necessary to create a new establishment for public instruction, which should be sufficiently extensive for acquiring a great influence. It was necessary to assemble men the most celebrated for their talent and reputation, in order that, being thus placed in full view, and presented to public attention, they might rectify the minds of men by their authority, as well as enlighten them by their knowledge.
This undertaking, difficult in itself, became much less so through the circumstances which then existed. Taste seemed to have taken refuge at the court, and the king easily yielded to the reasons of the learned who approached him; but no one took a greater share in this project than the celebrated Erasmus. Remote from it as he was, he accelerated its execution by the disinterested praises which he lavished on it. The king sent to invite him, in the most flattering terms, to take the direction of it and to settle in France; but Erasmus, jealous of liberty, retained besides by the gratitude he owed to Charles V, and by the care he bestowed on the College of Louvain which he had founded, refused this task, equally honourable and useful. He manifested not the less, in his letters, the joy he felt to see studies re-established by the only means which could reanimate them. It is pleasing to the true friends of the sciences to find among those who cultivate them similar traits of generosity and nobleness.
At length peace having restored to France repose and the means of repairing her losses, the king gave himself up without reserve to the desire he had of making the sciences flourish, and realized the grand project of public instruction which had for a long time occupied his mind. The new college took the name of _College Royal_. It had professors for the Hebrew and Greek tongues, and some even for the mathematics, philosophy, medicine, and the living languages.
The formation of the _College Royal_ gave great displeasure to the University. After having held so long without a rival the sceptre of the sciences and literature, it was grating to its members to relinquish it. They could ill bear to see set above it an establishment evidently intended to direct and guide it. Self-love offended seldom forgives, especially when it is animated by the _esprit de corps_. The University depreciated the new college, and endeavoured to fetter it in a thousand ways. At last, those dark intrigues being constantly smothered by the applause which the professors received, the University finished by bringing them before a court of justice. From, envy to persecution there is but one step, and that step was soon taken.
Religion served as a pretext and a cloak for this accusation. It was affirmed that the new professors could not, without danger to the faith, explain the Hebrew and Greek tongues, if they had not been presented to the University to be examined by it, and received from it their mission. To this it was answered, that if the theologians of the University understood Greek and Hebrew, it must be easy for them to denounce the passages in which the new professors had erred, and that if, on the contrary, they did not understand those languages, they ought not to pretend to judge those who taught them. After long debates, things were left in the state in which they were before the trial. Each party continued quietly its lessons, and, as it almost always happens in such cases, reason ended by having its due weight: true it is that it was then supported by royal authority.
The _College de France_ has not since ceased to make an increasing progress. It even had the valuable advantage of reforming itself successively, and of following new ideas, the necessary result of its constitution and of the lustre that has always surrounded it; two causes which have occasioned its chairs to be sought by the most celebrated men of every description. It is this successive reform which constitutes the distinctive character of the _College de France_, and which has always enabled it to fulfil its real object.
Thus, to quote but one example. The chair of Greek philosophy was, in the beginning, intended to make known the writings of the ancient philosophers on the nature of things and the organization of the universe. These were, at that time, the only repositories of human knowledge for mathematics and physics; but, in proportion as the sciences, more advanced, substituted rational theories for hazardous conjectures, the modern discoveries of astronomy were taught, together with the writings of the ancients. The object of this chair, which at the present day bears the name of general physics and mathematics, is to disseminate the most elevated notions of mechanics and the theory of the system of the world. The works taught by its occupier are analytical mechanics and celestial mechanics, that is, those works which form the limits of our knowledge for mathematical analysis, and consequently those of which it is most important to increase the very small number of readers.
By a consequence of that spirit of amelioration which animates this College, some time before the revolution, a chair and a cabinet of experimental physics were added to it.
As for the natural sciences, which are taught here with much depth and detail in several establishments, they have, in the _College de France_, a sort of regulator which directs them, as it were, by their generalities. It is, in fact, to this only that an establishment which, by its nature, contains no collection, ought to attach itself, and the philosophy of the sciences, the result and completion of their study, here constitutes the object of all the lectures.
Thus the improvements which the sciences have successively experienced, have always been spread by the instruction of the _College Royal_; and among the professors who have occupied its chairs, none can be quoted who have been strangers to their progress.
The revolution, which overthrew in France the ancient universities, suspended for some time the exercises of this establishment; but, under the name of _College de France_, it has since resumed a new lustre. It then found itself compelled to new efforts, in order to maintain its place among the scientific institutions, which have emulously risen in every branch of human knowledge. Nevertheless, those different sciences, even natural history, and the curative art, taught with so much perfection in private establishments, have hence derived great advantages, and here it is that public instruction comes at once to be resumed, investigated, and extended.
The present government appears to be perfectly sensible of the importance of such an establishment. The enlightened men, the celebrated _savans_, who approach it, have pointed out in the _College de France_ a _normal_ school, completely formed, and which unites to the extent of its object the ever-powerful ascendant of seniority. The similarity between the circumstances in which this institution is at the present day and those when it was founded, affords the most certain hope of its progress being maintained and accelerated.
This is what appears to me the most interesting in the history of this ancient college. I say nothing of its present professors; their zeal is proved by their assiduous and uninterrupted lessons; their merit is before the judgment of the public; and as for their names, these are indifferent to the results of their labours. If any other motive than that of the interest of the sciences were blended with the information I now communicate, I should not think that, in this letter, I was fulfilling the object of your wishes.
P.S. It may not be useless to mention that no students are attached to the _College de France_. The lectures are public; and every one who is desirous of improving his mind in any branch of science, may attend them free of expense or trouble. It is impossible for the friend of learning to withhold his admiration from so noble an institution. What, in fact, can be more liberal than this gratuitous diffusion of knowledge?
[Footnote 1: Whatever sentiment may have been preserved respecting the ancient University of Paris, every impartial person must acknowledge that it was several centuries in arrear in regard to every thing which concerns the Arts and Sciences. Peripatetic, when the learned had, with Descartes, renounced the philosophy of Aristotle, it became Cartesian, when they were Newtonians. Such is the too general custom of bodies, engaged in instruction, who make no discoveries. Invested at their formation with great influence over scientific opinions, because they are composed of the best informed men of the day, they wish constantly to preserve those advantages. They with reluctance suffer that there should be formed, elsewhere than in their own bosom, new opinions which might balance theirs; and if the progress of the sciences at last obliges them to abandon their doctrine, they never adopt the most modern theories, were they, in other respects, preferable; but embrace those which existed for some time anterior to them, and which they themselves had before combated. This inertness of bodies, employed in instruction, is an unavoidable evil; because it is the effect of self-love, the most invariable of passions.]
LETTER LVIII.
_Paris, January 17, 1802._
If we do not consider the _Opera Buffa_ as a national theatre, then the next in rank, after the Grand French Opera and the _Theatre Francais_, is the
THEATRE DE L’OPERA COMIQUE.
This house, which is situated in the _Rue Feydeau_, near the _Rue de la Loi_, was opened for the first time in January 1791. The entrance to it is by a circular vestibule, externally decorated with caryatides, and sufficiently spacious for one carriage to enter while another drives off by an adjoining outlet. At the end of this vestibule is a long gallery, bordered by shops on both sides, which forms a second entrance by the _Rue Filles St. Thomas_.
The interior form of this theatre is a semi-circle, extended in a right line at its extremities, which places the orchestra in a central position, and renders the house one of the fittest in Paris for a concert. Two rows of Gothic pillars, one above the other, occupy nearly all its height; and though it contains eight tiers of boxes, five only are in sight. The same distribution repeated in regard to the stage-boxes, presents a very projecting pavilion, which seems to support a large triumphal arch. However grand this style of architecture may be in appearance, in effect it renders the seats very inconvenient to two-thirds of the spectators. The ornaments consist of a strange mixture of the Greek, Gothic, and Oriental. The house is said to contain two thousand persons.
In the beginning, this theatre united the performers of the original _Opera Buffa_ and some of those belonging to the old French Comic Opera, who played alternately. The former retiring from Paris in 1792, the latter for some time attracted full houses by the excellence of their style of singing, tasteful decorations, and one of the best composed orchestras in the capital.
Since then, it has experienced the changes and vicissitudes attendant on the revolution. At present, the company is composed of a selection from the performers of the _Opera Comique_ of the _Theatre Favart_ (formerly known by the name of _Theatre Italien_), and those of the lyric theatre of which I am now speaking. This junction has not long been effected. Previously to its taking place, the _Comedie Italienne_, where French comic operas only were represented, was still constituted as it was under the old _regime_, of which it was remarked as being the sole remnant.
Formerly, the French Comic Opera was very rich in stock-pieces, chiefly written by FAVART, SEDAINE, MARMONTEL, HELE,[1] MONVEL, MARSOLIER, HOFFMAN, and others. Their productions were set to music by GRETRY, MONSIGNY, PHILIDOR, DESAIDES, DALEYRAC, &c. These pieces are now seldom played, the music of them being antiquated; though for energy and truth of expression some of it surpasses that of many of the more modern compositions. The new authors are little known. The composers of the music are MEHUL, DALEYRAC before-mentioned, BOYELDIEU, TARCHI, &c. The modern pieces the most in vogue and most attractive are _Le Prisonnier_, _l’Opera Comique_, a piece so called, _Le Calife de Bagdad_, _Maison a vendre_, _D’Auberge en Auberge_, and a few others of the same description. All these are really pleasing comedies.
The _Theatre Feydeau_ itself was also in possession of a great number of stock-pieces, among which were some in the style of the Grand French Opera. A considerable change seems to have taken place, as the latter are now no longer represented.
In surveying the _Opera Comique_, one would imagine that, in lieu of one company, two separate ones had been formed to play in the same theatre. The former is the weaker in number, but the stronger in talent. The latter, though weaker, has some good performers, in the long list of those of whom it is composed; but, in general, they are either no longer in their pristine lustre, or have not yet attained a competent degree of perfection.
Seldom are the two companies mixed. Pieces in the style of the modern _Opera Comique_, in which easy mirth is replaced by quaint jests, are played exclusively by the former. They draw crowded houses, as the public are extremely partial to them. Lyric _drames_ are abandoned to the latter, and the old stock-pieces to such of the performers as choose to act in them for a small number of spectators who are so obliging as to enter the house with _orders_ or _free_ admission. OF all the repositories of old pieces that of the _Comedie Italienne_ is the one which is the most entirely neglected. This is rather the fault of the actors than that of the public. There are many old productions which would attract a crowd, were the best performers to play them; but who likes to pay for seeing a master-piece murdered? –We now come to speak of the qualifications of these performers.
_Principal Characters and parts of Lovers._
Counter-Tenors.
ELLEVIOU, GAVAUDAN, PHILIPPE, and GAVEAUX.
ELLEVIOU. He is the first singer at the _Opera Comique_. Nor will this opinion be contradicted by any of the elegant and pretty women who, slaves to the custom of shewing themselves at the first representation of a new piece, never begin to applaud till ELLEVIOU makes his appearance.
This performer is, in fact, gifted with a handsome person, an easy manner, an expressive countenance, and a voice, which, when he modulates it, is charming. His delivery is tolerably good, and in some parts, he is not deficient in warmth and feeling. As a singer, ELLEVIOU leaves behind all those destined to second him. After having begun by singing bass, he has taken the parts of counter-tenor, for which, however, his voice is not suited, but he makes up for this deficiency by a very flexible tenor. He displays much art and a very modern taste. His method too is good; he makes no improper use of his facility by lavishing graces, but his manner is too uniform. This is the greatest objection that can be made to him, in the double capacity of singer and comedian.
GAVAUDAN. This young actor, with a well-proportioned stature and a very agreeable countenance, ranks, at the _Opera Comique_, next in merit to ELLEVIOU. His voice, as a counter-tenor, is not very brilliant, nor his means extensive; but his taste is good, and his method that of the modern school. As a player, he has a certain repution in lyric _drames_, and especially in those melancholy parts, the characteristic of which is a concentrated passion. He imitates TALMA, and, like him, “outsteps the modesty of Nature.”
PHILIPPE. His reputation was begun by the advantages of his person, and he consolidated it by his performance in the line of knight-errantry. _Richard, coeur de lion_, was the part which secured him the public favour. His voice is still an agreeable counter-tenor; but he declines through age. As an actor, he is deficient in nobleness, and his gestures are not dignified; but, being used to the stage, and possessing some feeling, he often produces happy effects.
GAVEAUX. He has been a good singer in his youth, and is a very agreeable composer. He always acquits himself of any part he undertakes, if not in a brilliant manner, at least with credit. Two of his musical productions are stock-pieces, and well worth seeing. _L’Amour Filial_ is a happy imitation of the Italian school, and _Sophie et Moncars_ is always heard with pleasure.
_Characters of Fathers, Valets, or Comic Parts_.
Bass-voices.
CHENARD, MARTIN, REZICOURT, JULIET, and MOREAU.
CHENARD. Owing to an advantageous person, this actor once stood as high in the favour of the ladies as ELLEVIOU does at present. He still possesses a fine voice, as a bass, but it is not very flexible. In the part of _Monsieur de la France_, in _l’Epreuve Villageoise_, he established his fame as a singer; yet his style is not sufficiently modelled after the modern taste, which is the Italian. As an actor, he is very useful; but, having always been treated by the public like a spoiled child, he is too apt to introduce his own sallies into his parts, which he sometimes charges with vulgarisms of the lowest description.
MARTIN. In the parts of valets, MARTIN cannot be better placed than near ELLEVIOU, whom he seconds with skill and taste. This has led the composers here to an innovation. Formerly, duets in the graceful style between men were seldom heard; but the voices of ELLEVIOU and MARTIN being perfectly adapted to each other, almost all the composers have written for them duets in which the _cantabile_ prevails, and concerted cadences are very conspicuous. This, I understand, is unprecedented in Paris.
MARTIN made his _debut_ in 1783 at the _Theatre de Monsieur_ in the company of Italian buffoons. In this school he acquired that taste which he has since propagated with zeal, if not with success. At the present day, he is accused of loading his singing with superfluous embellishments, or of placing them without judgment in passages or situations where they are ill-suited. However, in _morceaux d’ensemble_ he is quite at home, and, of course, shews himself to great advantage. As an actor, he is by no means remarkable, though he sometimes displays intelligence.
REZICOURT. He may justly be called a good comedian, without examining his merits as a singer.
JULIET. In the newspapers, this performer is called _inimitable_. His manner is his own; yet, perhaps, it would be very dangerous to advise any one to imitate it. He is not deficient in intelligence, and has the habit of the stage; but his first quality is to be extremely natural, particularly in the parts of Peasants, which he performs with much truth. He seems to be born a player, and though he is not a musician, he always sings in tune and in time.
MOREAU. An agreeable person, open countenance, animation, an ingenuous manner, and an unerring memory. He is very well placed in young Peasants, such as _Le Bon Andre_ and _Lubin_ of FAVART, as well as in the parts of Valets.
_Mixed characters of every sort_.–Tenors.
SOLIE, and ST. AUBIN.
SOLIE. He first appeared in the parts of young lovers with a tall stature and a handsome face, but neither of them being fashioned for such characters, he met with no applause. His voice was not very brilliant, but his method of singing was replete with grace and taste. For this, however, he obtained no credit; the Parisian public not being yet accustomed to the modern or Italian style. CLAIRVAL, the first singer at the old _Opera Comique_, happening to be taken suddenly ill one night, SOLIE undertook his part at a moment’s warning. Success crowned his temerity, and from that moment his merit was appreciated. His best character is _Micheli_ in _Les deux Savoyards_, in which he established his reputation. In the pieces of which MEHUL has composed the music, he shines by the finished manner in which he executes it; the _cantabile_ is his fort. As an actor, his declamation is not natural, and his deportment is too much that of a mannerist. However, these defects are compensated by his singing. To the music of others, he does every justice, and that which he composes himself is extremely agreeable.
ST. AUBIN. This performer once had a good voice as a counter-tenor; but as he now plays no other than secondary parts, one might imagine that he is retained at the theatre only in consideration of his wife’s talents.
_Caricatures and Simpletons_.
DOZAINVILLE, and LESAGE.
DOZAINVILLE. The person of this actor is very favourable for caricatures and the characters of simpletons, which he fills. The meagreness of his countenance renders it very flexible; but not unfrequently he carries this flexibility to grimace. As a singer, he must not be mentioned.
LESAGE. He is a musician, but has little voice. He performs the parts of simple peasants in a natural manner, but with too much uniformity. This is is a general defect attached to those characters.–Let me next introduce the female performers.
_First female Singers and Parts of Lovers_.
Mesdames ST. AUBIN, SCIO, LESAGE, CRETU, PHILIS the elder, GAVAUDAN, and PINGENET.
Madame ST. AUBIN. She is a capital actress, though chiefly in the parts of young girls; yet she is the main pillar of the _Opera Comique_. She never has been handsome, at least when closely viewed, and is now on the wane, being turned of forty-five; but her graceful little figure and delicate features make her appear pretty on the stage. Neatness and _naivete_ characterise her acting. She has scarcely any voice, but no other songs than romances or ballads are assigned to her. She formerly played at the Grand French Opera, where she was applauded in noble and impassioned parts, though they are not, in general, suited to her manner. But an actress, high in favour with the public, is always applauded in whatever character she appears. The pieces in which Madame ST. AUBIN excels are _Le Prisonnier, Adolphe et Clara_, and _L’Opera Comique_, which is the title of a piece, as I have already mentioned.
Madame SCIO. Although she is said not to be well versed in music, she has a very extensive and powerful voice, but its tones have little variety. As an actress, she is very indifferent. Without being mean, she has no nobleness of manner. Like almost all the performers belonging to the _Opera Comique_, she delivers ill the dialogue, or such sentences as are not set to music. As she frequently strains her acting, persons deficient in taste are pleased to bestow on her the epithet of _great_ as an actress. However, she played _Medee_ in a lyric tragedy of that name; but such a Medea was never seen! As a singer, Madame Scio is a valuable acquisition to this theatre. In point of person, she is neither ordinary nor handsome.
Mademoiselle LESAGE. Her singing is chaste, but destitute of that musical energy which distinguishes great singers. She plays _les ingenuites_ or innocent characters; but is rather a mannerist, instead of being childish. She then employs a false voice, not at all suited to this line of acting, in which every thing should be natural.
Madame CRETU. This actress came to Paris from Bourdeaux, preceded by a great reputation. She has been handsome: a clear voice, a good method of singing, a becoming manner of acting, insured her success. She is very useful at this theatre, in pieces where the _vis comica_ does not predominate.
Mademoiselle PHILIS the elder. This is a pretty pupil of the famous GARAT. She has a clear pipe, a charming countenance, a quick eye, an agreeable person, and some taste. She possesses as much merit as an actress as a singer.[2]
Madame GAVAUDAN. She is admired for her pretty person, pretty voice, and pretty carriage. No wonder then that she has greatly contributed to the success of the little pieces in the style of _Vaudeville_, which have been performed at this theatre.
Mesdemoiselles PINGENET. These two sisters are nothing as actresses; but seem to aspire to the title of singers, especially the elder, who begins to distinguish herself.
_Noble Mothers and Duennas_.
Mesdames DUGAZON, PHILIPPE, and GONTHIER.
Madame DUGAZON. Twenty years ago she enjoyed a great name, for which she was indebted to the bad taste that then prevailed. With large prominent eyes, and a broad flat nose, she could not be really handsome; but she had a very animated countenance. In lyric _drames_, she personated country-girls, chambermaids, and princesses. In the first-named cast of parts, she had an ingenuous, open, but rustic manner. She played chambermaids in a style bordering on effrontery. Lastly, she represented princesses, but without any dignity, and also women bereft of their reason. The part in which she had the most vogue was that of _Nina_ in _La Folle par amour_. Her madness, however, appeared not to be occasioned by the sensibility of her heart. It was too much inclined to the sentimental cast of Sterne’s Maria.
Madame DUGAZON, who ought to have been in possession of a considerable fortune, from the vast sums of money lavished on her by Englishmen, is at this day reduced to perform the parts of mothers, in which she acquits herself so as to deserve neither praise nor censure.
Madame PHILIPPE. Under the name of DESFORGES, she shone formerly in the part of _Marguerite_ in _Richard, coeur de lion_. Without being a superior singer, she executes her songs with feeling.
Madame GONTHIER. This actress still enjoys the benefit of her former reputation. She is excellent in a cast of parts become hacknied on the stage; namely, gossips and nurses.
I have said nothing of the _doubles_ or duplicates of all these ladies, as they are, in general, bad copies of the originals.
The choruses of the _Opera Comique_ are not very numerous, and have not the strength and correctness which distinguish those of the Grand French Opera. Nor could this be expected. The orchestra has been lately recomposed, and at present consists of a selection of excellent performers. The scenery, decorations, and dresses are deserving of commendation.
[Footnote 1: Or HALE, an Englishman, who wrote _Le Jugement de Midas_, _l’Amant Jaloux_, and _Les Evenemens Imprevus_, pretty lyric comedies, especially the last. Notwithstanding the success of his pieces, this author is said to have died in the greatest distress.]
[Footnote 2: Not long since she set off for Russia, without apprizing any one of her intention.]
[Footnote 3: The commissioner, appointed by the government to superintend the proceedings of this theatre, has since been replaced by a _Prefect of the Palace_, whose authority is much the same as that exercised when each of the principal theatres in Paris was under the inspection of a _Lord of the Bedchamber_.]
LETTER LIX.
_Paris, January 29, 1802._
Whenever the pen of an impartial writer shall trace the history of the French revolution, through all its accompanying vicissitudes, it will be seen that this country owed its salvation to the _savans_ or men of science. The arts and sciences, which were revived by their zeal and courage, united with unceasing activity to pave the way to victories abroad, and repair mischiefs at home. Nor can it be denied, that every thing which genius, labour, and perseverance could create, in point of resources, was employed in such a manner that France was enabled, by land, to make head against almost all Europe, and supply her own wants, as long as the war lasted.
The _savans_ who had effected such great things, for some time enjoyed unlimited influence. It was well known that to them the Republic was indebted for its safety and very existence. They availed themselves of this favourable moment for insuring to France that superiority of knowledge which had caused her to triumph over her enemies. Such was the origin of the
POLYTECHNIC SCHOOL.
This establishment had a triple object; namely, to form engineers for the different services; to spread in civil society enlightened men, and to excite talents which might promote the sciences. Nothing was neglected that could tend to the accomplishment of a destination so important.
It was, in fact, time to reorganize the instruction of corps destined for public services, the greater part of which were wholly deficient in this respect. Some of them, it is true, had particular schools; but instruction there was feeble and incomplete. That for military engineers at _Mezieres_, the best conducted of all, and which admitted twenty pupils only, had suspended its exercises, in consequence of the revolution. Necessity had occasioned the formation of a provisionary school, where the pupils received rapidly the first notions of the attack and defence of places, after which they were sent to the armies.
Such institutions neither answered the exigencies of the State, nor conduced to its glory. Their weakness was, above all, likely to be felt by men habituated to general ideas, and whose minds were still more exalted, and views enlarged, by the revolution. Those men wished that the new _School for Public Works_ should be worthy of the nation. Their plan was extensive in its object, but simple in its execution, and certain in its results.
The first law concerning the _Central School for Public Works_, since called the _Polytechnic School_, was made on the 20th of Ventose year II. (10th of March 1794). From that moment, much zeal was manifested in making the necessary arrangements for its formation. On the report made to the National Convention respecting the measures taken on this subject, on the 7th of Vendemiaire year III (28th of September 1794) a decree was passed, directing a competition to be opened for the admission of four hundred pupils into this school. The examination was appointed to take place in twenty-two of the principal towns. The candidates were to answer in arithmetic and the elements of algebra and geometry. Those admitted received the allowance of military officers for their travelling expenses to Paris. They were to have annually twelve hundred francs, and to remain in the school three years, after which they were to be called to the different Public Services, when they were judged capable of performing them; and priority was to depend on merit. These services were the duty of military engineers, naval engineers, or ship-builders, artillerists, both military and naval, engineers of bridges and highways, geographical engineers, and engineers of mines, and to them were added the service of the pupils of the school of aerostation, which GUYTON MORVEAU had caused to be established at Meudon, for the purpose of forming the aerostatic company destined for manoeuvring air-balloons, applied to the art of war, as was seen at _Maubeuge_, _Fleurus_, _Aix-la-Chapelle_, &c.
However, the conception of this project was far more easy than its execution. It was doing little to choose professors from among the first men of science in Europe, if their lessons were not fixed in the mind of the pupils. Being unable to communicate them to each pupil in private, they stood in need of agents who should transmit them to this numerous assemblage of youth, and be, as it were, the nerves of the body. To form these was the first object.
Among the young men who had presented themselves at the competition, twenty of the most distinguished were selected. Philosophical instruments and a chemical laboratory were provided for them, and they were unremittingly exercised in every part of the plan which it was resolved to execute. These pupils, the greater part of whom had come from the schools for Public Service, felt the insufficiency of the instruction which they had there received. Eager to learn, their mind became inflamed by the presence of the celebrated men who were incessantly with them. The days sufficed not for their zeal; and in three months they were capable of discharging the functions for which they were intended.
Nor was this all. At a time when opinion and power might change from one moment to another, much risk was incurred if a definitive form was not at once given to the _Polytechnic School_. The authors of this vast project had seen the revolution too near not to be sensible of that truth. But they wished first, by a trial made on a grand scale, to insure their method, class the pupils, and shew what might be expected from them. They therefore developed to them, in rapid lectures, the general plan of instruction.
This plan had been drawn up agreeably to the views of men the best informed, amongst whom MONGE must be particularly mentioned. He had been professor at _Mezieres_, and had there given the first lessons of descriptive geometry, that science so useful to the engineer. The enumeration of the various parts of instruction was reduced to a table, printed by order of the Committee of Public Safety. It comprehends mathematics, analysis applied to descriptive geometry and to the mechanism of solids and fluids, stereotomy, drawing, civil architecture, fortification, general physics, chymistry, mineralogy, and their application to the arts.
In three months, the work of three years was explained. A real enthusiasm was excited in these youths on finding themselves occupied by the sublimest ideas which had employed the mind of man. Amidst the divisions and animosities of political party, it was an interesting sight, to behold four hundred young men, full of confidence and friendship, listening with profound attention to the lectures of the celebrated _savans_ who had been spared by the guillotine.
The results of so great an experiment surpassed the most sanguine expectations. After this preliminary instruction, the pupils were divided into brigades, and education took the course it was intended should follow.
What particularly distinguishes this establishment, is that the pupils not only receive oral lessons, but they must give in written solutions, present drawings, models, or plans for the different parts, and themselves operate in the laboratories.
On the 1st of Germinal year III (22d of March 1795) the annual courses were commenced. They were then distributed for three years, but at this day they last two only. At the same time a decree was passed, regulating the number of professors, adjuncts, ushers, the holding of the meetings of the council of instruction and administration, the functions of the director, administrator, inspector of the studies, secretary of the council, librarian, keepers of the collection of drawings, models, &c.
Since that epoch, the _Polytechnic School_, often attacked, even in the discussions of the _Legislative Body_, has maintained its ground by the impression of the reputation of the men who act there as professors, of the depth of the knowledge which makes the object of their lessons, and of the youths of superior talent who issue from it every year. The law which after many adjournments, has fixed its existence is dated the 25th of Frimaire year VIII (16th of December 1799.)
The most important changes introduced, are the determination of the age to be received into this school, which is from sixteen to twenty, the reduction of the pupils to the number of three hundred, the rank which is given them of serjeant of artillery of the first class, their pay fixed on the same footing, together with a fund of assistance for those labouring under difficulties, the obligation to wear a uniform, the establishment of a council of improvement, composed of three members of the National Institute, of examiners, of a general-officer or superior agent of each of the branches of the Public Service, of the director, and four commissioners taken from the council of instruction.
This council assembles every year, inquires into the state of the school, proposes its views of amelioration, respecting every department, and makes a report to the government. One of its principal functions is to harmonise the instruction with that of the Schools of Engineers, Artillery, &c. into which the pupils enter after the final examination they undergo previously to their departure.
After this, to judge of the advantages of the _Polytechnic School_, it is sufficient to cast an eye on the printed reports, which present an account of the persons it furnishes to the different services, of those who have been taken from it for the expedition to Egypt, for the corps of _aspirans de la marine_ or midshipmen, for entering into the line vith the rank of officers, or into the department of commissaries of war, (into which they are admitted after their examination if no places are vacant in the Schools for Public Service), of those who have been called on to profess the sciences in the central schools (Lyceums) of the departments, some to fill the first professors’ chairs in Paris, such as at the _College de France_ and the _Ecole Polytechnique_, of those, in short, who have quitted this school to introduce into the manufactories the knowledge which they had acquired. The last-mentioned circumstance has always been a consideration for carrying the number of pupils beyond the presumable wants of the different Public Services.
You see that this is no more than a summary of what might be said and collected from the journals of the _Polytechnic School_, (which already form four volumes in 4to. independently of the classic works published by the professors), for giving a complete history of this interesting establishment, which attracts the notice of foreigners of all nations. BONAPARTE takes no small interest in the labours of the _Polytechnic School_, and has often said that it would be difficult to calculate the effects of the impulse which it has given towards the mathematical sciences, and of the aggregate of the knowledge imparted to the pupils.
The _Polytechnic School_, which is under the authority of the Minister of the Interior, occupies an extensive range of building, formerly known by the name of _Le petit Palais Bourbon, contiguous to the _Palais du Corps Legislatif_. The different apartments contain every thing necessary for the elucidation of the arts and sciences here taught; but the pupils reside not at the school: they lodge and board with their friends, on the salary allowed them by the nation, and repair thither only for the prosecution of their studies.
LETTER LX.
_Paris, January 30, 1802._
To judge from the records of the Old Bailey, one would conclude that, in proportion to the number of its inhabitants, London must contain a greater number of dishonest persons of both sexes than any metropolis in Europe. But, though more notorious thieves and daring robbers may perhaps, be found in London than in many other great cities, yet I will venture to affirm that Paris contains more
PICKPOCKETS AND SHARPERS.
However superior too our rogues may be in boldness, I apprehend that, in dexterity, they are far inferior to those to be met with among our neighbours. To elude a more vigilant inspection, the latter are compelled to exert more art and cunning. In this dissipated capital, which is a grand theatre where they can display all their talent, and find a greater number of dupes, adventurers and swindlers of every description have long been famous; but it should seem that the females here of that stamp deserve to be no less celebrated.
Not many years ago, I heard of an English lady of quality being detected in the very act of secreting a quantity of valuable lace, to which she had taken a particular fancy at a great haberdasher’s in Pall-Mall. It was said that she endeavoured to exculpate herself for this inadvertency on the ground of being in a pregnant state, which had produced an irrisistible longing. However this may be, she might here have got a lesson, as will appear from the following instance of ingenuity very lately practised by one of her own sex.
In the _ci-devant Palais Royal_, a haberdasher of note keeps a shop where the highest-priced articles of female wear are exhibited, immediately on coming from the hands of the manufacturer or inventor.
The other day, a lady somewhat turned of thirty, of genteel appearance and engaging address, entered this shop, and asked to see some white lace veils. Several were shewn to her at the price of from twenty-five to fifty louis each. These not being sufficiently rich to please her taste, others more costly were produced, and she fixed on one of eighty louis in value. Standing before a glass, she immediately put on this veil _a la religieuse_, that is, in the form of the hood of a nun’s dress. Then taking from her bosom her little purse, she found it to contain no more than twenty louis in bankpaper, which she paid to the haberdasher as a deposit for the veil, at the same time desiring him to send one of his men with her to her _homme d’affaires_ or agent, in order that he might bring back the other sixty.
As a Parisian tradesman is always extremely glad to get rid of his goods, she had no difficulty in carrying her point; and, having selected from among the shopmen a shamefaced youth of eighteen, took him with her in the hackney-coach which she had kept in waiting. She gave the coachman her orders, and away he drove to a famous apothecary’s, in the _Rue St. Honore_. “This,” said she to the shopman, “is the residence of my _homme d’affaires_: follow me, and you shall have your money.” She accordingly alighted, and, after saying a few words in the ear of the doctor, on whose credulity she had already exercised her genius, desired him to take the young man to his private room, and settle the business, while she remained to chat with his wife.
The unsuspecting youth, seeing the lady on such terms of intimacy in the family, made no hesitation to follow the doctor to a back-parlour, where, to his extreme surprise, he was closely questioned as to his present state of health, and the rise and progress of the disorder which he had caught through his own imprudence. The more he denied the circumstance, the more the doctor persisted in his endeavours to procure ocular demonstration. The latter had previously locked the door, having been apprized by the lady that her son was exceedingly bashful, and that stratagem, and even a certain degree of violence, perhaps, must be employed to obtain evidence of a complaint, which, as it injured her _dear boy’s_ constitution, disturbed her own happiness and peace of mind. The doctor was proceeding to act on this information, when the young shopman, finding his retreat cut off, vociferously demanded the sixty louis which he was come to receive in payment for the veil. “Sixty louis in payment for a veil!” re-echoed the doctor. “Your mother begged me to examine you for a complaint which you have inconsiderately contracted in the pursuit of pleasure.” The _denouement_ now taking place, the two dupes hastened back to the shop, when they found that the lady had decamped, having previously discharged the coach, in order that she might not be traced by the number.
The art of purloining a watch, a snuff-box, or a purse, unperceived by the owner, may, no doubt, be acquired by constant practice, till the novice becomes expert in his profession: but the admirable presence of mind displayed by Parisian sharpers must, in a great measure, be inherited from nature. What can well surpass an example of this kind mentioned by a celebrated French writer?
A certain person who had been to receive a sum of money at a banker’s, was returning home with it in a hired carriage. The coachman, not remembering the name of the street whither he had been ordered to drive, got off his box, and opened the coach-door to ask it. He found the person dead and cold. At his first exclamation, several people collected. A sharper who was passing by, suddenly forced his way through the crowd, and, in a lamentable and pathetic voice, called out: “‘Tis my father! What a miserable wretch am I!” Then, exhibiting every mark of the most poignant grief, he got into the coach, and, crying and sobbing, kissed the dead man’s face. The bystanders were affected, and dispersed, saying, one to another, “What an affectionate son!” The sharper drove on in the coach, where he found the bags of money, which were an unexpected booty, and, stopping it at a door, told the coachman that he wished to apprize his sister of the melancholy accident that had just happened. He alighted, and shut the coach-door, leaving the corpse as naked as it came into the world. The coachman, having waited a long time, inquired in vain at the house for the young man and his sister; no one had any knowledge of her, him, or the deceased.
I remember when I was last in Paris, at the beginning of the revolution, being shewn a silversmith’s shop, whence a few articles having been stolen, the master was induced to examine in what manner the thieves gained admittance. Discovering an aperture where he conjectured that a man’s hand might be introduced, he prepared a noose with a proper cord, and remained in waiting the following night to see if they would repeat their visit. At a late hour, when all was quiet, he perceived a man’s hand thrust through the aperture; instantly he drew tight the noose, and thought he had effectually secured the culprit; but he was mistaken. The fellow’s accomplices, fearing that the apprehension of one of them would lead to the discovery of all, on finding it impossible to extricate him by any other means, cut off his wrist. When the patrole arrived at the spot, on the call of the silversmith, he was not a little astonished to find that his prisoner had escaped, though with the loss of a hand, which remained fast in the noose.
With respect to these more daring classes of rogues, every year almost produces some new race of them. Since the revolution, the criminal code having condemned to death none but those guilty of murder, housebreakers, to avoid the penalty of the law, had recourse to a practice, which put the persons whom they subjected to it to the most severe pain. This was to hold their feet to the fire till they declared where all their moveable property was to be found. Hence these villains obtained the name of _chauffeurs_. Notwithstanding the vigilance of the Police, they still occasionally exercise their cruelties in some of the departments, as may be seen by the proceedings of the criminal tribunals. I have also heard of another species of assassins, who trained blood-hounds to seize a man by the throat in certain solitary places, and then came afterwards, and plundered him at their ease. When apprehended, they coolly said: “We did not kill the man, but found him dead.”
As in former times, all sentences passed on criminals, tried in Paris, whether condemned to die or not, are put into execution on the
PLACE DE GREVE.
The first sentence executed here was that passed on _Marguerite Porette_, a female heretic, who was burnt alive in the year 1310.
Among the punishments which it has been found necessary to re-establish is that of marking with a hot iron. Criminals, condemned to imprisonment in irons, are exposed for two hours on a scaffold in the middle of this square. They are seated and tied to a post, having above them a label with the words of their sentence. They are clad in woollen pantaloons and a waistcoat with sleeves, one half of each of which is white; the other, brown. After being exposed two hours, they are stripped, and to their shoulder is applied a hot iron, which there leaves the impression of the letter V, for _voleur_, thief. Women, not being condemned to imprisonment in irons; are exempt from the penalty of being marked. This punishment is said to produce considerable effect on the culprits, as well as on the spectators. Previously to its being revived, persons convicted of thieving were insolent beyond all endurance.
The _Place de Greve_ is a parallelogram, one of the long sides of which is occupied by the _ci-devant Hotel de Ville_, a tasteless edifice, begun in 1533, but not finished till 1605.
Before the revolution, the _Place de Greve_ was alternately the theatre of punishments and rejoicings. On the same pavement, where scaffolds were erected for the execution of criminals, rose superb edifices for public festivals.
Here, when any criminal of note was to suffer, the occupiers of the adjoining houses made a rich harvest by letting their apartments. Every window that commanded a view of the horrid scene, was then hired at a most exorbitant price. Women of the first rank and fashion, decked in all the luxury of dress, graced even the uppermost stories. These weak-nerved females, who would have fainted at the sight of a spider mangling a fly, stood crowded together, calmly viewing the agonies of an expiring malefactor, who, after having been racked on the wheel, was, perhaps, denied the _coup de grace_ which would, in an instant, have rid him of his miserable existence.
The death of a regicide was a sort of gala to these belles; while the lead was melting over the furnace, the iron pinchers heating in the fire, and the horses disposed for tearing asunder the four quarters of the victim of the laws, some of them amused themselves with an innocent game at cards, in sight of all these terrible preparations, from which a man of ordinary feeling would avert his looks with horror.
How happens it that, in all countries on the continent, ladies flock to these odious spectacles? Every where, I believe, the populace run to behold them; but that a female of superior birth and breeding can deliberately seek so inhuman a gratification is a mystery which I cannot explain, unless, indeed, on the principle of shewing themselves, as well as that of seeing the show.
“_Spectatum veniunt, veniunt spectentur ut ipsae_.”
LETTER LXI.
_Paris, February 2, 1802._
Independently of the general organization of Public Instruction, according to the new plan, of which I have before traced you the leading features, there exist several schools appropriate to different professions, solely devoted to the Public Service, and which require particular knowledge in the arts and sciences. Hence they bear the generic name of
SCHOOLS FOR PUBLIC SERVICES.
They are comprised under the following denominations.
POLYTECHNIC SCHOOL.
SCHOOL OF ARTILLERY.
MILITARY ENGINEERS.
BRIDGES AND HIGHWAYS.
MINES.
NAVAL ENGINEERS.
NAVIGATION.
In order to be admitted into any of the above schools, the candidates must prove themselves qualified by the preliminary instruction required the examinations at the competition prescribed for each of them. The pupils of these schools receive a salary from the nation. At the head of them is the _Polytechnic School_, of which I have already spoken. This is the grand nursery, whence the pupils, when they have attained a sufficient degree of perfection, are transplanted into the other _Schools for Public Services_. Next come the
SCHOOLS OF ARTILLERY.
There are eight of these in the places where the regiments of artillery are garrisoned. The pupils who are sent thither as officers, after having been examined, apply their knowledge to the arts, to the construction of works, and to the manoeuvres of war dependent on artillery. Each school, in which the pupils must remain two years longer, is under the superintendance of a general of brigade of the corps.
SCHOOL OF MILITARY ENGINEERS.
This school, united to that of Miners, is established at Metz. Its labours relate to the application of the theoretical knowledge which the pupils have imbibed at the _Polytechnic School_. The objects of these labours is the construction of all sorts of works of fortification, mines and counter-mines, mock-representations of sieges, attack, and defence, the drawing of plans and military surveys, in a word, all the details of the duty of engineers in fortified places and in the field.
The number of pupils is limited to twenty. They have the rank and pay of second lieutenant. The School of Engineers, as well as the Schools of Artillery, is under the authority of the Minister at War.
Much as I wish to compress my subject, I must observe that, previously to leaving the school, the pupils undergo a strict examination respecting the objects of instruction before-enumerated. This examination is intrusted to a _jury_ (as the French term it) composed of the commander in chief of the school, a general or field-officer of the corps, appointed every year by the Minister at War, and one of the permanent examiners of the Polytechnic School. _This jury forms the list of merit, which regulates the order of promotion._ Can we then wonder that the French have the first military engineers in Europe?
SCHOOL OF BRIDGES AND HIGHWAYS.
It was founded in 1787, by TRUDAINE, and continued under the direction of PERRONET, chief engineer of this corps, till his death, which happened in 1794. He was then 86 years of age. By his will, he bequeathed to this school, for the instruction of the pupils whom he loved as his children, his library, his models, his manuscripts, and his portfolios; articles which at this day form an invaluable collection.
This school, which is at present established in the _Hotel de Chatelet_ (formerly belonging to the duke of that name) _Rue de Grenelle_, _St. Germain_, unites the _depot_ or repository of plans and models to the labours relating to roads, canals, and harbours for trade. The number of pupils admitted is fifty. They are taken from the _Polytechnic School_, and retain the salary which they there received.
The instruction given to them chiefly consists in the application of the principles of physics and mathematics to the art of planning and constructing works relative to roads, canals, and sea-ports, and the buildings belonging thereto; the means of execution, and the mode of forming plans and estimates of the works to be executed, and the order to be observed in keeping the accounts.
The _School of Bridges and Highways_ is under the authority of the Minister of the Interior,
PRACTICAL SCHOOLS OF MINES.
One of these schools is established at Geislautern, in the department of La Sarre; and the other, at Pesay, in the department of Mont-Blanc.
The Director and Professors form a committee for the working of the mines of Pesay, as well as for the instruction of the pupils. In consequence of the report of this committee the _Council of Mines_ established in Paris, proposes to the government the measures necessary to be adopted. Twenty pupils, who have passed their examination at the _Polytechnic School_, are attached to the practical schools, for the purpose of applying the theoretical part of their instruction. Extra-scholars, with testimonials of good behaviour and capacity, are admitted to be educated at their own expense. These schools are also under the authority of the Minister of the Interior.
SCHOOL OF NAVAL ENGINEERS.
The _School of Naval Architects_, which existed in Paris, has been removed to Brest, under the name of _Ecole des Ingenieurs des Vaisseaux_. No pupils are admitted but such as have been students, at least two years, in the _Polytechnic School_. The examination of the candidates takes place every year, and the preference is given to those who excel in descriptive geometry, mechanics, and the other branches of knowledge appropriated to the first year’s study at that school. When the pupils have proved, in the repeated examinations which they must undergo, that they are sufficiently qualified, they are sent to Brest (as vacancies occur), in order to apply the theory they have acquired to the different works carried on in that port, where they find both the example and the precept, and are taught every thing relative to the construction of ships of war and merchant-vessels.
This school is under the authority of the Minister of the naval department. The pupils admitted into it, receive a salary of 1800 francs (_circa_ L. 75 sterling) a year.
SCHOOLS OF NAVIGATION.
The Schools of Mathematics and Hydrography, established for the navy of the State, and the Schools of Hydrography destined for the merchant-service, bear the name of _Ecoles de Navigation_.
Every year, there is a competition for the admission of candidates for naval employment. The Hydrographical Examiner makes a general tour to the different ports, where he interrogates the pupils in arithmetic, algebra, geometry, statics, and navigation. According to these examinations, they are admitted to the rank of _aspirons de marine_ or midshipmen, captains of merchant-ships for long voyages, masters of coasting-vessels, pilots, &c,
By a late decree of the Consuls, no one can be admitted to the examination prescribed for being received as master in the coasting-trade, unless he is twenty-four years of age, and has served five years on board the ships of war belonging to the Republic.
* * * * *
In my letter of the 15th of January, I have shewn you that Public Instruction is to be divided into four classes: 1. In Primary Schools, established by the _Communes_. 2. In Secondary Schools, established by the _Communes_, and kept by private masters. 3. In Lyceums. 4. In _Special Schools_. In the two last-mentioned establishments, the pupils are to be maintained at the expense of the nation.
Before I particularize the _Special Schools_, I must mention a national institution, distinguished by the appellation of
PRYTANEE FRANCAIS.
It is divided into four colleges, established at Paris, St. Cyr, St. Germain-en-Laye, and Compiegne. It was destined for the gratuitous education of the children of the military killed in the field of honour, and of public functionaries who might happen to die in the discharge of their office.
By a decree of the Consuls, dated the 1st of Germinal year VIII (22nd of March 1800) the number of pupils, in each of the Colleges of Paris, St. Cyr, and St. Germain-en-Laye, is limited to two hundred, and to three hundred, in that of Compiegne. An augmentation, however, is to be made in favour of the new departments. The pupils are named by the First Consul. On entering the College, they bring a stated proportion of necessaries, after which they are wholly maintained at the expense of the nation till they have finished their studies. The government provides for the advancement of those who give the greatest proof of good conduct and talent. The pupils cannot remain in either of these four colleges beyond the age of eighteen.
As I have before observed, the Central Schools are, in future, to bear the name of Lyceums, and the highest degree of public instruction is to be acquired in the
SPECIAL SCHOOLS.
In these upper schools are to be particularly taught, in the most profound manner, the useful sciences, together with jurisprudence, medicine, natural history, &c. The Special Schools now in existence are to be continued, subject to such modifications as the government may think fit to introduce for the benefit of the Public Service. They are still under the immediate superintendance of the Minister of the Interior.
The _College de France_ I have before described: the Museum of Natural History, the Special School of docimastic Mineralogy and Chemistry, and that for Oriental languages, I shall speak of elsewhere; but I shall now proceed to give you a rapid sketch of the others which I have not yet noticed, beginning with the
SPECIAL SCHOOL OF PAINTING AND SCULPTURE.
This institution was founded in 1648, at the instigation of LE BRUN. It was formerly held in the _Place du Louvre_, but is now removed to the _ci-devant College des Quatre-Nations_, which has taken the name of _Palais des Beaux Arts_. This is the only school in Paris that has never indulged in any vacation. Each professor is on duty for two months. During the first month, he gives his lessons in the school of living models; during the other, in the school of the antique, called, _la bosse_. It may not be uninteresting to give you an idea of the
COMPETITIONS.
Every year there is a competition in Painting, Sculpture, and Architecture, which is to be called _National Prize_. Its object is to confer on those who have gained the first prize, at present proposed by the Institute, the advantage of an allowance of 1200 francs for five years, which is insured to them at the French School of Fine Arts at Rome. During their stay there, they are lodged, boarded, and taken care of, in case of illness, at the expense of the Republic.
A competition takes place every six months for the rank of places in the schools; and another, every three months for the distribution of medals.
There is also a prize, of 100 francs, founded by M. DE CAYLUS, for a head expressive of character, painted or drawn from nature; and another prize of 300 francs, founded by LATOUR, for a half-length, painted after a model, and of the natural size.
Independently of the competition of the school, there is every year a general competition followed by a distribution of the works of encouragement, granted to the artists who have distinguished themselves most in the annual exhibition of the _Salon du Louvre_. A jury, named by the competitors themselves, examines the different pictures, classes them according to the degree of merit which it finds they possess, and the Minister of the Interior allots to each of the artists _crowned_ a sum in payment of a new work which they are bound to furnish to the government.
NATIONAL SCHOOL OF ARCHITECTURE.
In this school, which is held in the _Louvre_, the Professor of Architecture delivers lectures on the history of that art, and the theory of its different branches, on the orders, and edifices erected by the ancients, and on the works of Vitruvius, Palladio, Scamozzi, and Vignole. He takes no small pains to make known the bold style of Grecian architecture, which the Athenians chiefly employed during the ages when they prided themselves on being a free people.
The Professor of Mathematics explains the principles of arithmetic and elementary geometry, which he applies to the different branches of civil and military architecture, such as levelling, the art of constructing plans, and perspective.
The Professor of Stereotomy, in his lectures, chiefly comprises masonry and carpentry; he points out the best methods of employing those arts in civil and military buildings. His demonstrations relate to the theoretical and practical part of both branches. All the pupils, and students of architecture are indiscriminately admitted to the competition for the great prize of architecture, provided they are not foreigners.
CONSERVATORY OF MUSIC.
This establishment, situated in the _Rue du Faubourg Poissonniere_, was founded on the 16th of Thermidor year III, (4th of August 1795) for the preservation and reproduction of music in all its branches.
It is composed of a director, three inspectors of teaching, a secretary, a librarian, and thirty-five professors.
The director presides over the whole establishment; the inspectors superintend the teaching, examine the pupils, and teach the branches of study attributed to them by the regulation.
In the Conservatory, the instruction is divided as follows: composition, harmony, solfaing, singing, violin, violincello, harpsicord, organ, flute, hautboy, clarinette, French-horn, bassoon, trumpet, trombonne, serpent, preparation for singing, and declamation applicable to the lyric stage.
The completion of the study is effected by a series of lectures, treating specially of the relations between the sciences and the art of music.
Three hundred pupils of both sexes, taken in equal number from each department, are instructed gratuitously in the Conservatory. The principal points towards which their studies are directed, are, to keep up music in society, to form artists for the execution of public _fetes_, for the armies, and for the theatres.
These pupils are admitted after an examination, which takes place four times a year. Prizes are distributed annually, in a public meeting of the Conservatory, to the pupils who distinguish themselves in each branch of study.
* * * * *
_February 2, in continuation._
To the preceding brief account of the Conservatory, I shall subjoin a few observations on the
PRESENT STATE OF MUSIC IN FRANCE.
Till the year 1789, this was the country where the greatest expense was incurred in cultivating music; yet the means which were employed, though very numerous, produced but little effect, and contributed not to the improvement of that art. Every thing even announces that its progress would have been still more retarded, but for the introduction of the Italian Opera, in 1645, by Cardinal Mazarin.
The brilliant success of _Orfeo e Euridice_, in 1647, determined the national taste in favour of this sort of _spectacle_, and gave birth to the wish of transplanting it to the French stage. It was in 1659 that the first opera, with music adapted to a French poem, was performed at Issy.
Since the epoch of the establishment of the French opera, every department belonging to it, with the sole exception of the singing, has been so much improved, that it is become the most brilliant _spectacle_ in Europe. But, as the lyric theatres in France were always obliged to seek recruits among the pupils formed in the schools maintained by the clergy for the service of public worship, the influence of the clerical mode of instruction was felt; and this was, in fact, the source of the bad taste which for a long time characterized French singing.
Had the grand opera in France been continued an Italian one, as it was first established, (like those subsequently introduced in the principal cities of Europe) it would have been supported by performers formed by the Conservatories of Italy; and the good taste of those schools would have balanced or proscribed the bad taste of the French cathedrals; but the genius of the seventeenth century chose that the French language, purified and fixed by the writers who rendered it illustrious, should also become the language of the lyric theatre. Musical instruction, remaining entirely subservient to the customs of religion, was unable to keep pace with the rapid progress of the arts and sciences during that brilliant period.
Among the defects of the old system of teaching music, must be placed that of confining it to men; nevertheless, the utility of women in concerts and plays was as incontestable then as it is at the present day. Public instruction was therefore due to them in that point of view; but, had no such consideration existed, they should have been admitted to participate in this instruction, in order to propagate the art in society. The success of this method would have been infallible: as soon as women should have cultivated the musical art with success, its naturalization would have been effected in France, as it has been in Germany and Italy.
The expense of the musical instruction pursued in the schools belonging to the cathedrals was immense, compared with its results in every branch of the art. As to composers, they produced but a very
small number, and few of these distinguished themselves; no instrumental performer of eminence ever issued from them; and, with few exceptions, the singers they formed were very indifferent.
The necessity of introducing a better method of singing induced the government, in 1783, to establish a _Special School of Singing and Declamation._ This institution continued in full exercise for ten years; but, though the celebrated PICCINI was appointed to preside over the vocal department, the habits of the old school obstructed its progress, and prevented it from producing the good which was expected from it.
At the epoch of the dissolution of the monarchical institutions, there remained in France only the School of Music of the Parisian national guard, and that of Singing and Declamation just mentioned. The republican government ordered them to be united, and thus was formed the _Conservatory of Music_.
Nor let it be imagined that policy has had no share in establishing this institution. It has furnished the numerous bands of musicians rendered necessary by the levy of fourteen armies which France had, at one and the same time, in the field. It is well known that music has done almost wonders in reviving the courage of the French soldiers, who, when Victory seemed adverse to them, inclined her in their favour, by rallying to the tune of the _Marseillois_. In the heat of action, joining their voice to the instruments, and raising themselves to a pitch of enthusiasm, they received or dealt out death, while they kept singing this hymn. The French then are no less indebted to ROUGET DE LILLE than the Spartans were to TYRTAEUS. At the beginning of the revolution, they had no songs of the warlike kind, except a few paltry ballads sung about the streets. ROUGET, who was then an officer of engineers at Strasburg, was requested to compose a martial hymn. Full of poetic fire, he shut himself up in his chamber, and, in the course of one night, wrote the words of the _Marseillois_, adapting to them music, also of his own composition. Notwithstanding this patriotic production, and the courage which the author is said to have displayed during the war, he was twice imprisoned, at one time on suspicion of royalism; at another, of terrorism.
Independently of the great number of musicians with which the Conservatory has supplied the armies, it has furnished between two and three hundred to the theatres, as well in Paris as in the departments.[1] The band of the Consular guard was formed from the pupils of the Conservatory, and sixty of them at present compose the orchestra, known in Paris by the name of _Concert Francais_, and the execution of which has been much applauded by many celebrated composers.
Its members meet to discuss the theories which may improve and extend the different branches of the musical art. They have already laid the principal foundations of a body of elementary works for teaching them in perfection. _Les Principes elementaires de Musique_, and a _Traite d’Harmonie_, which is said to have gained the universal approbation of the composers of the three schools, assembled to discuss its merits, are already published. A method of singing, established on the best principles of the Italian school, applied to French declamation, is now in the press; and these publications are to be successively followed by other didactic works relative to the history of the art.
A principal cause of the present scarcity of fine voices in France, is the war which she has had to maintain for ten years, by armies continually recruited by young men put in requisition at the period when the voice is forming, and needs to be cultivated in order to acquire the qualities which constitute a good singer.
Formerly, French commerce derived but very little advantage from articles relating to music; but the means employed by the Conservatory may probably turn the scale in favour of this country, as well as render it, in that respect, independent of foreign nations.
Before the revolution, England furnished France with _piano-fortes_,