A Bibliographical, Antiquarian and Picturesque Tour in France and Germany, Volume Two | Page 4

struck by the perpetual motion of a huge, restless,
black bear, who has left the marks of his footsteps by a concavity in the
floor:--as well as by the panting, and apparently painful, inaction of an
equally huge white or gray bear--who, nurtured upon beds of Greenland
ice, seemed to be dying beneath the oppressive heat of a Parisian
atmosphere. The same misery appeared to beset the bears who are
confined, in an open space, below. They searched every where for
shade; while a scorching sun was darting its vertical rays upon their
heads. In the Museum of dead, or stuffed animals, you have every thing
that is minute or magnificent in nature, from the creeping lizard to the
towering giraffe, arranged systematically, and in a manner the most
obvious and intelligible: while Cuvier's collection of fossil bones
equally surprises and instructs you. It is worth all the catacombs of all
the capitals in the world. If we turn to the softer and more beauteous
parts of creation, we are dazzled and bewildered by the radiance and
variety of the tribes of vegetables--whether as fruits or flowers; and,
upon the whole, this is an establishment which, in no age or country,
hath been surpassed.
It is not necessary to trouble you with much more of this strain. The
out-of-door enjoyments in Paris are so well known, and have been so
frequently described--and my objects of research being altogether of a

very different complexion--you will not, I conclude, scold me if I cease
to expatiate upon this topic, but direct your attention to others. Not
however but that I think you may wish to know my sentiments about
the principal ARCHITECTURAL BUILDINGS of Paris--as you are
yourself not only a lover, but a judge, of these matters--and therefore
the better qualified to criticise and correct the following
remarks--which flow "au bout de la plume"--as Madame de Sévigné
says. In the first place, then, let us stop a few minutes before the
THUILERIES. It hath a beautiful front: beautiful from its lightness and
airiness of effect. The small central dome is the only raised part in the
long horizontal line of this extended building: not but what the
extremities are raised in the old fashioned sloping manner: but if there
had been a similar dome at each end, and that in the centre had been
just double its present height, the effect, in my humble opinion, would
have harmonised better with the extreme length of the building. It is
very narrow; so much so, that the same room contains windows from
which you may look on either side of the palace: upon the gardens to
the west, or within the square to the east.
Adjoining to the Thuileries is the LOUVRE: that is to say, a long range
of building to the south, parallel with the Seine, connects these
magnificent residences: and it is precisely along this extensive range
that the celebrated Gallery of the Louvre runs. The principal exterior
front, or southern extremity of the Louvre, faces the Seine; and to my
eye it is nearly faultless as a piece of architecture constructed upon
Grecian and Roman models. But the interior is yet more splendid. I
speak more particularly of the south and western fronts: that facing the
north being more ancient, and containing female figure ornaments
which are palpably of a disproportionate length. The Louvre
quadrangle (if I may borrow our old college phrase) is assuredly the
most splendid piece of ornamental architecture which Paris contains.
The interior of the edifice itself is as yet in an unfinished condition;[4]
but you must not conclude the examination of this glorious pile of
building, without going round to visit the eastern exterior
front--looking towards Notre-Dame. Of all sides of the square, within
or without, this colonnade front is doubtless the most perfect of its kind.
It is less rich and crowded with ornament than any side of the

interior--but it assumes one of the most elegant, airy, and perfectly
proportionate aspects, of any which I am just now able to recollect.
Perhaps the basement story, upon which this double columned
colonnade of the Corinthian Order runs, is somewhat too plain--a sort
of affectation of the rustic. The alto-relievo figures in the centre of the
tympanum have a decisive and appropriate effect. The advantage both
of the Thuileries and Louvre is, that they are well seen from the
principal thoroughfares of Paris: that is to say, along the quays, and
from the chief streets running from the more ancient parts on the south
side of the Seine. The evil attending our own principal public edifices
is, that they are generally constructed where they cannot be seen to
advantage. Supposing one of the principal entrances or malls of
London, both for carriages and foot, to be