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Paris As It Was and As It Is

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Its officers consist of a President, a Vice-President, two
Secretaries, three Conservators, a Treasurer, and a Keeper of the
records.

It has associated correspondents throughout Europe.

SOCIÉTÉ PHILOMATIQUE.

It is wholly devoted to natural, physical, and mathematical sciences.
It assembles on Fridays, in the _Rue d'Anjou_, _Faubourg St.
Germain_. It has no public sittings; but is merely a private meeting
of men of learning, who publish once a month a _bulletin_ very
important to the sciences, and to be commended, besides, for its
composition, perspicuity, and conciseness. This publication is of a
4to size, consists of a single sheet of print, and has for its title
_Bulletin des Sciences par la Société Philomatique_.

SOCIÉTÉ ACADÉMIQUE DES SCIENCES.

This Society is recently formed: It employs itself on the Sciences
only; has not yet held any public sittings, nor published any
memoirs. Consequently, nothing can yet be said of its labours, or
interior regulation.

SOCIÉTÉ GALVANIQUE.

Its name indicates the sole object of its labours. It is newly
formed, and composed of men eminently distinguished in Medicine and
Physics. It has called in a few literati. Its officers are the same
in the other Societies. It holds its sittings at the _Oratoire_ every
Tuesday at eleven o'clock in the morning. Its labours are pursued
with ardour and it has already made several important experiments. It
announces zeal, and talents, as well as-great defects, and aspires to
fame, perhaps, a little too much; but it may still maintain its
ground.

SOCIÉTÉ DES BELLES-LETTRES.

It is somewhat frivolous. Public sittings every month. Half poetry,
half music. It meets at the _Oratoire_ every Wednesday at seven
o'clock in the evening. It arose from a small emigration of the
_Lycée des Arts_, at this day _l'Athénée_, during the tyranny of
DESAUDRAY, and originally bore the title of _Rosati_. A few men of
merit, a great number of youths, and some useless members. Too many
futile readings, too many fugitive verses, too many little
rivalships. It is faulty on account of its regulations, the basis of
which is weak, and it exhibits too much parsimony in its expenses. It
has not enough of that public consideration which perpetuates
establishments of this description. Under such circumstances, it is
to be apprehended that it will not support itself.

ACADÉMIE DE LÉGISLATION.

This is a fine institution, recently founded. It is composed of the
most celebrated lawyers, and a few distinguished literati. It meets
on the first of every month, gives every day courses of lectures on
all the branches of jurisprudence to a great number of pupils; has
established conferences, where these pupils form themselves to the
art of speaking, by pleading on given points of law. It publishes two
periodical works every month, the one entitled, _Bulletin de
Jurisprudence_ and the other, _Annales de Jurisprudence._ The
preliminary discourse of the first volume of the latter is by JOSEPH
LAVALLÉE, and has done him considerable credit. He is, however, a
literary character, and not a lawyer.

This academy has officers of the same description as those of the
other Societies. Senator LANJUINAIS is the President at this moment.
It occupies the _Hôtel de la Briffe_, _Quai Voltaire_.

SOCIÉTÉ DES OBSERVATEURS DE L'HOMME.

It assembles at the _Hôtel de la Rochefoucauld_, _Rue de Seine_,
_Faubourg St. Germain,_ and is composed of very estimable men. Its
labours, readings, and discussions are too metaphysical. In point of
officers, it is formed like the other Societies. Citizen JUAFFRET is
perpetual Secretary.

ATHÉNÉE DE PARIS, _ci-devant_ LYCÉE RÉPUBLICAIN.

This society has survived the revolutionary storm, having been
established as far back as the year 1787. According to the
_programme_ published for the present year 1802, its object is to
propagate the culture of the sciences and literature; to make known
the useful improvements in the arts; to afford pleasure to persons of
all ages, by presenting to every one such attractions as may suit his
taste, and to unite in literary conferences the charms of the mildest
of human occupations.

To strangers, the _Athénée_ holds out many advantages. On being
presented by one of the founders or a subscriber, and paying the
annual subscription of 96 francs, you receive an admission-ticket,
which, however, is not transferrable. This entitles you to attend
several courses of lectures by some of the most eminent professors,
such as FOURCROY, CUVIER, LA HARPE, DÉGÉRANDO, SUË, HASSENFRATZ,
LEGRAND, &c. The subjects for the year are as follows:

Experimental Physics, Chymistry, Natural History, Anatomy and
Physiology, Botany, Technology or the application of sciences to arts
and trades, Literature, Moral Philosophy, Architecture, together with
the English, Italian, and German languages.

The lectures are always delivered twice, and not unfrequently thrice
a day, in a commodious room, provided with all the apparatus
necessary for experiments. On a Sunday, an account of the order in
which they are to be given in the course of the following week, is
sent to every subscriber. There is no half-subscription, nor any
admission _gratis_; but ladies pay no more than 48 francs for their
annual ticket.

Independently of so many sources of instruction, the _Athénée_, as is
expressed in the _programme_, really affords to subscribers the
resources and charms of a numerous and select society. The
apartments, which are situated near the _Palais du Tribunat_, in the
_Rue du Lycée_, are open to them from nine o'clock in the morning to
eleven at night. Several rooms are appropriated to conversation; one
of which, provided with a piano-forte and music, serves as a
rendezvous for the ladies. The subscribers have free access to the
library, where they find the principal literary and political
journals and papers, both French and others, as well as every new
publication of importance. A particular room, in which silence is
duly observed, is set apart for reading.

[Footnote 1: This Society has laid aside the title of _Lyceum_ since
the decree of the government, which declares that this denomination
is to be applied only to the establishments for public instruction.]



LETTER L.

_Paris, January 13, 1802._

I have spoken to you of palaces, museum, churches, bridges, public
gardens, playhouses, &c. as they have chanced to fall under my
observation; but there still remain houses of more than one
description which I have not yet noticed, though they are certainly
more numerous here than in any other city in Europe. I shall now
speak of

COFFEEHOUSES.

Their number in Paris has been reckoned to exceed seven hundred; but
they are very far from enjoying a comparative degree of reputation.
Celebrity is said to be confined to about a dozen only, which have
risen into superior consequence from various causes. Except a few
resorted to by the literati or wits of the day, or by military
officers, they are, in general, the rendezvous of the idle, and the
refuge of the needy. This is so true, that a frequenter of a
coffeehouse scarcely ever lights a fire in his own lodging during the
whole winter. No sooner has he quitted his bed, and equipped himself
for the day, than he repairs to his accustomed haunt, where he
arrives about ten o'clock in the morning, and remains till eleven at
night, the hour at which coffeehouses are shut up, according to the
regulation of the police. Not unfrequently persons of this
description make a cup of coffee, mixed with milk, with the addition
of a penny-roll, serve for dinner; and, be their merit what it may,
they are seldom so fortunate as to be consoled by the offer of a rich
man's table.

Here, no person who wishes to be respected, thinks of lounging in a
coffeehouse, because it not only shews him to be at a loss to spend
his time, which may fairly be construed into a deficiency of
education or knowledge, but also implies an absolute want of
acquaintance with what is termed good company. Certain it is that,
with the exceptions before-mentioned, a stranger must not look for
good company in a coffee-house in Paris; if he does, he will find
himself egregiously disappointed.

Having occasion to see an advertisement in an English newspaper, I
went a few evenings ago to one of the most distinguished places of
this sort in the _Palais du Tribunat_: the room was extremely
crowded. In five minutes, one of the company whom I had seen taking
out his watch on my entrance, missed it; and though many of the
by-standers afterwards said they had no doubt that a person of
gentlemanly exterior, who stood near him, had taken it, still it
would have been useless to charge that person with the fact, as the
watch had instantly gone through many hands, and the supposed
accomplices had been observed to decamp with uncommon expedition.
What diverted me not a little, was that the person suspected coolly
descanted on the imprudence of taking out a valuable watch in a crowd
of strangers; and, after declaiming the most virulent terms against
the dishonesty of mankind; he walked away very quietly.
Notwithstanding his appearance and manner were so much in his favour,
he had no sooner affected his retreat than some subalterns of the
police, not thief-takers, but _mouchards_ or spies, some of whom are
to be met with in every principal coffeehouse, cautioned the master
of the house against suffering his presence in future, as he was a
notorious adventurer.

You must not, however, imagine from this incident, that a man cannot
enter a coffeehouse in Paris, without being a sufferer from the
depredations of the nimble-fingered gentry. Such instances are not, I
believe, very frequent here; and though it is universally allowed
that this capital abounds with adventurers and pickpockets of every
description, I am of opinion that there is far less danger to be
apprehended from them than from their archetypes in London. Everyone
knows that, in our refined metropolis, a lady of fashion cannot give
a ball or a rout, without engaging Mr. Townsend, or some other Bow
street officer, to attend in her ball, in order that his presence may
operate as a check on the audacity of knavish intruders.

The principle coffeehouses here are fitted up with taste and
elegance. Large mirrors form no inconsiderable part of their
decoration. There are no partitions to divide them into boxes. The
tables are of marble; the benches and stools are covered with Utrecht
velvet. In winter, an equal degree of warmth is preserved in them by
means of a large stove in the centre, which, from its figure, is an
ornamental piece of furniture; while, in summer, the draught of air
which it maintains, contributes not a little to cool the room. In the
evening, they are lighted by _quinquets_ in a brilliant manner.

Formerly, every coffeehouse in Paris used to have its chief orator;
in those of the more remote part of the suburbs you might, I am
informed, hear a journeyman tailor or shoemaker hold forth on various
topics. With the revolution, politics were introduced; but, at the
present day, that is a subject which seems to be entirely out of the
question.

In some coffeehouses, where literati and critics assemble, authors
and their works are passed in review, and to each is assigned his
rank and estimation. When one of these happens to have been checked
in his dramatic career by an _undiscerning_ public, he becomes, in
his turn, the most merciless of critics.

In many of these places, the "busy hum" is extremely tiresome;
German, Italian, Spanish, Dutch, Danish, Russ, together with English
and French, all spoken at the same time and in the same room, make a
confusion of tongues as great almost as that which reigned at Babel.
In addition to the French newspapers, those of England and Germany
may be read; but as they are often bespoke by half a dozen persons in
succession, it requires no small degree of patience to wait while
these quidnuncs are conning over every paragraph.

Independently of coffee, tea, and chocolate, ices, punch and liqueurs
may be had in the principal coffeehouses; but nothing in the way of
dinner or supper, except at the subterraneous ones in the _Palais du
Tribunat_, though there are many of a rather inferior order where
substantial breakfasts in the French style are provided. Whether
Voltaire's idea be just, that coffee clears the brain, and stimulates
the genius, I will not pretend to determine: but if this be really
the case, it is no wonder that the French are so lively and full of
invention; for coffee is an article of which they make an uncommon
consumption. Indeed, if Fame may be credited, the prior of a
monastery in Arabia, on the word of a shepherd who had remarked that
his goats were particularly frisky when they had eaten the berries of
the coffee-tree, first made a trial of their virtue on the monks of
his convent, in order to prevent them from sleeping during divine
service.

Be this as it may, Soliman Aga, ambassador of the Porte to Lewis XIV,
in 1669, was the first who introduced the use of coffee in Paris.
During a residence of ten years in the French capital, he had
conciliated the friendship of many persons of distinction, and the
ladies in particular took a pleasure in visiting him. According to
the custom of his country, he presented them with coffee; and this
beverage, however disgusting from its colour and bitterness, was well
received, because it was offered by a foreigner, in beautiful china
cups, on napkins ornamented with gold fringe. On leaving the
ambassador's parties, each of the guests, in the enthusiasm of
novelty, cried up coffee, and took means to procure it. A few years
after, (in 1672) one Paschal, an Armenian, first opened, at the
_Foire St. Germain_, and, afterwards on the _Quai de l'École_, a shop
similar to those which he had seen in the Levant, and called his new
establishment _café_. Other Levantines followed his example; but, to
fix the fickle Parisian, required a coffeeroom handsomely decorated.
PROCOPE acted on this plan, and his house was successively frequented
by Voltaire, Piron, Fontenelle, and St. Foix.

As drinking, which was then in vogue, was pursued less on account of
the pleasure which it afforded, than for the sake of society, the
French made no hesitation in deserting the tavern for the
coffeehouse. But, in making this exchange, it has been remarked, by
the observers of the day, that they have not only lost their taste
for conviviality, but are become more reserved and insincere than
their forefathers, whose hearts expanded by the free use of the
generous juice of the grape; thus verifying the old maxim, _in vino
veritas._

No small attraction to a Parisian coffeehouse is a pretty female to
preside in the bar, and in a few I have seen very handsome women;
though this post is commonly assigned to the mistress or some
confidential female relation. Beset as they are from morn to night by
an endless variety of flatterers, the virtue of a Lucretia could
scarcely resist such incessant temptation. In general, they are
coquetish; but, without coquetry, would they be deemed qualified for
their employment?

Before the revolution, I remember, in the _ci-devant Palais Royal_, a
coffeehouse called _Le café mécanique_. The mechanical contrivance,
whence it derived its name, was of the most simple nature. The tables
stood on hollow cylinders, the tops of which, resembling a salver
with its border, were level with the plane of the table, but
connected with the kitchen underneath. In the bar sat a fine, showy
lady, who repeated your order to the attendants below, by means of a
speaking-trumpet. Presently the superficial part of the salver,
descended through the cylinder, and reascending immediately, the
article called for made its appearance. This _café méchanique_ did
not long remain in being, as it was not found to answer the
expectation of the projector. But besides six or seven coffeehouses
on the ground-floor of the _Palais du Tribunat_, there are also
several subterraneous ones now open.

In one of these, near the _Théâtre Français,_ is a little stage, on
which farces, composed for the purpose, are represented _gratis_. In
another, is an orchestra consisting entirely of performers belonging
to the National Institution of the Blind. In a third, on the north
side of the garden, are a set of musicians, both vocal and
instrumental, who apparently never tire; for I am told they never
cease to play and sing, except to retune their instruments. Here a
female now and then entertains the company with a solo on the French
horn. To complete the sweet melody, a merry-andrew habited _à la
sauvage_, "struts his hour" on a place about six feet in length, and
performs a thousand ridiculous antics, at the same time flogging and
beating alternately a large drum, the thunder-like sound of which is
almost loud enough to give every auditor's brain a momentary
concussion.

A fourth subterraneous coffeehouse in the _Palais du Tribunat_ is
kept by a ventriloquist, and here many a party are amused by one of
their number being repeatedly led into a mistake, in consequence of
being ignorant of the faculty possessed by the master of the house.
This man seems to have no small share of humour, and exercises it
apparently much to his advantage. In three visits which I paid to his
cellar, the crowd was so great that it was extremely difficult to
approach the scene of action, so as to be able to enjoy the effect of
his ludicrous deceptions.

A friend of mine, well acquainted with the proper time for visiting
every place of public resort in Paris, conducted me to all these
subterraneous coffeehouses on a Sunday evening, when they were so
full that we had some difficulty to find room to stand, for to find a
seat was quite impossible. Such a diversity of character I never
before witnessed in the compass of so small a space. However, all was
mirth and good-humour. I know not how they contrive to keep these
places cool in summer; for, in the depth of winter, a more than
genial warmth prevails in them, arising from the confined breath of
such a concourse. On approaching the stair-case, if the orchestra be
silent, the entrance of these regions of harmony is announced by a
heat which can be compared only to the true Sirocco blast such as you
have experienced at Naples.



LETTER LI.

_Paris, January 15, 1802._

As after one of those awful and violent convulsions of nature which
rend the bosom of the earth, and overthrow the edifices standing on
its surface, men gradually repair the mischief it has occasioned, so
the French, on the ruins of the ancient colleges and universities,
which fell in the shock of the revolution, have from time to time
reared new seminaries of learning, and endeavoured to organize, on a
more liberal and patriotic scale, institutions for

PUBLIC INSTRUCTION.

The vast field which the organization of public instruction presents
to the imagination has, as may be, supposed, given birth to a great
number of systems more or less practicable; but, hitherto, it should
seem that political oscillations have imprinted on all the new
institutions a character of weakness which, if it did not absolutely
threaten speedy ruin, announced at least that they would not be
lasting. When the germs of discord prevailed, it was not likely that
men's minds should be in that tranquil state necessary for the
reestablishment of public seminaries, to lay the foundations of
which, in a solid and durable manner, required the calm of peace and
the forgetfulness of misfortune.

After the suppression of the colleges and universities existing under
the monarchy, and to which the _Collège de France_ in Paris is the
sole exception, the National Convention, by a decree of the 24th of
Nivôse, year III (14th of January 1795) established _Normal_ Schools
throughout the Republic. Professors and teachers were appointed to
them; and it was intended that, in these nurseries, youth should be
prepared for the higher schools, according to the new plan of
instruction. However, in less than a year, these _Normal_ Schools
were shut up; and, by a law of the 3d of Brumaire, year IV (25th of
October, 1796) Primary, Secondary, and Central Schools were ordered
to be established in every department.

In the Primary Schools, reading, writing, and arithmetic formed the
chief part of the instruction. Owing to various causes, the Secondary
Schools, I understand, were never established. In the Central
Schools, the internal regulation was to be as follows.

The whole of the instruction was divided into three classes or
sections. In the first, were taught drawing, natural history, and
ancient and modern languages. In the second, mathematics, physics,
and chymistry. In the third, universal grammar, the fine arts,
history, and legislation. Into the first class the pupils were to be
received at the age of twelve; into the second, at fourteen; and into
the third, at sixteen. In each Central School were to be a public
library, a botanic garden, and an apparatus of chymical and physical
instruments. The professors were to be examined and chosen by a _Jury
of Instruction_, and that choice confirmed by the administration of
the department.

The government, in turning its attention to the present state of the
public schools, and comparing them with the wants and wishes of the
inhabitants of the Republic, has found that the Primary Schools have
been greatly neglected, and that the Central Schools have not been of
so much utility as was expected. Alarmed at the consequences likely
to be produced by a state of things which leaves a great part of the
present generation destitute of the first rudiments of knowledge, the
government has felt that the reorganization of these schools is
become an urgent duty, and that it is impossible to delay longer to
carry it into execution.

The _Special_ Schools of Arts and Sciences are mostly confined to
Paris. The other rich and populous cities of the Republic have
undoubtedly a claim to similar institutions. There is at present no
School of Jurisprudence, and but one of Medicine.

The celebrated FOURCROY[1] has been some time engaged in drawing up a
plan for the improvement of public instruction. In seeking a new mode
of teaching appropriate to the present state of knowledge and to the
genius of the French nation, he has thought it necessary to depart
from the beaten track. Enlightened by the past, he has rejected the
ancient forms of the universities, whose philosophy and acquirements,
for half a century past, called for reformation, and no longer kept
pace with the progress of reason. In the Central Schools he saw
institutions few in number, and too uniformly organized for
departments varying in population, resources, and means. He has,
nevertheless, taken what was good in each of these two systems
successively adopted, and removed their abuses. Without losing sight
of the success due to good masters and skilful professors, he has,
above all, thought of the means of insuring the success of the new
schools by the competition of the scholars. He is of opinion that to
found literary and scientific institutions on a solid basis, it is
necessary to begin by attaching to them pupils, and filling the
classes with students, in order not to run the risk of filling them
with professors. Such is the object which FOURCROY wishes to attain,
by creating a number of national pensions, so considerable that their
funds, when distributed in the Lyceums, may be sufficient for their
support.

Agreeably to these ideas, the following is said to be the outline of
the new organization of public instruction. It is to be divided into
four classes; viz. Primary Schools, Secondary Schools, Lyceums, and
Special Schools.

PRIMARY SCHOOLS.

A Primary School may belong to several _communes_ at a time,
according to the population and the locality of these _communes_.

The teachers are to be chosen by the mayors and municipal councils.

The under-prefects are to be specially charged with the organization
of these schools, and give an account of their state, once a month,
to the prefects.

SECONDARY SCHOOLS.

Every school established in the _commune_ or kept by private
individuals, in which are taught the Latin and French languages, the
first principles of geography, history and mathematics, is to be
considered as a Secondary School.

The government promises to encourage the establishment of Secondary
Schools, and reward the good instruction that shall be given in them,
either by granting a spot for keeping them, or by the distribution of
gratuitous places in the Lyceums, to such of the pupils as shall have
distinguished themselves most, and by gratifications to the fifty
masters who shall have qualified most pupils for the Lyceums.

No Secondary School is to be established without the authority of the
government. The Secondary Schools and private schools, whose
instruction is found superior to that of the Primary Schools, are to
be placed under the superintendance and particular inspection of the
prefects.

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