1830.]

Church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, Paris.

at large, that whilst the Clergy forsake their calling to interfere in agricultural concerns, sectaries should increase and abound, intrude themselves into the churches, and usurp the authority of teachers; and can it be denied that wherever the Clergyman becomes a farmer, his proper province, thus deserted, is generally invaded by religious bigots and ranting enthusiasts ?

The result of all this will be either the disgrace of the English Church, if not the ruin of it: the decay of rational piety: the deterioration of morals: the loss of good manners, and introduction of fanaticism; or-such an impression upon the common sense of the country as may lead to an effectual remedy in a due and moderate provision for the Clergy, and an absolute prohibition of their following any secular employment whatsoever: so that they may cultivate sound learning, advance true religion, and practise those duties by which they may both save their own souls, and those who hear them. X.

P. S. If these remarks are admis

sible, I shall probably beg a corner in your next Magazine upon the subject of Magisterial and Electioneering Clergy; who, if they do not see their own faults, are not more likely to correct them than their brethren amongst the laity.

Mr. URBAN,

A

Paris, Aug. 10.

BRIEF account of the ancient Church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, (where great numbers of persons, slain in the late sanguinary conflicts near the Louvre, were promiscuously interred,) may not be misplaced in your Miscellany; as this edifice is one of the most prominent antiquities of the city, and is visited by almost every traveller who arrives here, being situated in a quarter constantly traversed by all classes. The building is not remarkable for beauty; and in point of age, it yields to St. Germain-des-Près; but from various circumstances, it has excited more interest with the antiquary, as well as the mere curious spectator.

Had Napoleon remained on the throne of France, this Church would have been demolished some years back; he intended opening a road from the eastern façade of the Louvre, to the Place de la Bastille. That plan would have greatly improved, as well as em

101

bellished Paris; for it would have laid open many of the narrow, fetid streets in the heart of the town, where, it is scarcely exaggeration to say the sunbeams never penetrate. A new site was fixed upon for a Church to replace it; but the priests have hitherto had too much influence to allow the improvement to be taken into consideration. However, as the present King, Louis-Philip, is known to patronise all measures of public utility, we may soon see the late Emperor's plan carried into effect.

The western front of this Church looks on the beautiful façade of the Louvre, and is at a sufficient distance to allow a convenient view of both edifices. On the north side is the Rue Chilperic; on the south, the Rue des Prêtres; and on the east, the Rue de l'Arbre Sec. The Church, however, is not detached; for houses and shops have been erected in corners, formed by projecting parts of the building; and the whole presents a mass of confused memorials of different ages, exhibiting in some parts the offerings of superstitious piety; in others, the traces of revolutionary spoliation.

A Church was erected on this spot in 606, by King Chilperic: it was dedicated to Germain, the twentieth Bishop of Paris, who died in 576, and was long called St. Germain-la-Ronde, on account of its circular form. That Bishop had excommunicated Charibert, King of Paris, for polygamy; and was in such great reputation, that many persons bequeathed their property to defray the expense of translating his remains to the new Church.

The original edifice having been destroyed by the Normans, was rebuilt by King Robert, in the beginning of the eleventh century; when it received the name of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, to distinguish it from another Church dedicated to St. Germain. But Alexander III. in a bull of 1165, continues to give it the old appellation; he calls it Monasterium Sancti Germani Rotundi.

The Church at present consists of some portions of that erected by King Robert, with additions and reparations, made by the English in 1423. It be longs to no particular class of architecture; and it becomes difficult to give an intelligible account of so irregular a building. Viewed from the west, we see a wide porch, and on each side of

102

Church of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, Paris.

the principal door are three statues;
they stand upon brackets formed by
figures of deformed animals, and in
the mouldings over the door are rows
A turret of
of various little monsters.
plain stone work is seen on each side of
the body of the Church; and a number
of ornamented pinnacles, on the top of
the buttresses, with projecting spouts,
terminating in misshapen figures, give
rather a grotesque appearance to the
building.

The porch not extending the whole breadth of the edifice, the space on each side was afterwards filled up by two chambers; one of them is destined for the administration of the Eucharist, the other for Baptisms: an inscription over each, denotes the epoch of their erection; the former was built in 1608, the latter in 1639.

. The interior of the Church is not
very striking the double ailes are so
very wide, that including the little
chapels which encircle the place, the
body is not more than 1-5th of the
building. The pillars which support
the roof over the ailes, are round, and
very massive in proportion to their
height; a few of them have mouldings.
The absence of a gallery above the
ailes, has caused the windows to be
very lofty; although of equal height,
there is a great want of uniformity in
them, which is the more conspicuous, as
some are ornamented with stained glass.
This Church was for a long time
collegiate as well as parochial; but the
repeated disputes between the incum-
bents and the canons, induced the Par-
liament to unite the chapter to that of
Notre Dame. Many persons of emi-
nence have been buried here; and it
has often been selected for the delivery
of funeral orations in commemoration
of persons who have died elsewhere.
Among others, the Chancellor Olivier,
who died at Amboise in 1560. It was
the bell of this Church which gave the
signal for murdering the Protestants,
in 1572; and during the revolution
which took place last month, the
Church was used as an hospital for
those who were wounded in attacking

the Louvre on this side.

There are a few monuments in this

Church, which are interesting as the
wrecks of other days. In a little chapel
in the south-east corner, are two statues,
about the natural size, which repre-
sent two individuals named Stephen
Aligre, father and son, who both filled

[Aug.

the office of Chancellor of France. The figure of the father is in a reclining posture: the inscription states that his heart was buried there, and that he died Dec. 11, 1635. The other figure is kneeling: he died Oct. 25, 1677, and according to the inscription, his body was interred in that chapel. Both these monuments were restored in 1822, by their descendant, the Marquis d'Aligre, peer of France.

In a chapel, nearly opposite, are two statues, two busts, and a long inscription on black marble. They are memorials of the Rostaing family, and were restored in 1824, by the present Marquis de Rostaing. The busts and the inscription were formerly in the Church of the Feuillants; the statues were in this Church, which contained the tomb of the elder branch of the family.

There are also a few tablets inscribed with the names of persons who have died since the Restoration; in particular a marble slab to the memory of the Duke de Riviere, governor of the Duke of Bordeaux: he died April 21, 1828, and is buried at Bel-Air, near Bourges. The inscription is surmounted with his arms; which being only in outline, do not sufficiently indicate the blazon: they are paly of six, over

all a chevron.

This Church was outside the city until the reign of Louis-le-Gros, who built a wall to protect the northern suburbs of Paris. Philip Augustus, in 1190, built another of more substantial materials, and comprising a more extended circumference: it left the bank of the river at the spot where the Pont des Arts now stands, and passed direct to the Rue St. Honoré, where a fortified gate was erected, near the present site of the Oratoire.

Those who desire more information, are referred to Felibien, Hist. de Paris; Dulaure, idem; and Jaillot, Recherches critiques et historiques sur Paris. Yours, &c.

MR. URBAN,

W. S. B.

Aug. 10. HE following lively letter from a medical student at Paris, relative to French manners and customs, will, I trust, amuse your readers.

A CORRESPONDENT.

My own avocations take me from half past six in the morning to five at night. I have three subjects now in

1830.]

Parisian Manners and Customs.

progress of dissection, which cost me three shillings each, and which would at this moment cost in London 201. each. I am engaged at Lispone's (qu.?) class every morning. It is a complete butcher's shop, where the students are like butchers' apprentices, cutting off legs and arms, and practising the art of carving in the highest style. Each operation is exhibited three times to the student, and performed twice by himself, under the superintendence of a whole company of surgical demon strators. In London operations are only exhibited twice a year to the student, and he has never an opportunity of performing them himself on the dead body. Here are institutions without end and without expense. Lectures, colleges, museums, libraries, abound of the very first description on the same terms. The anatomical models in wax are so like the human body as scarcely to be pronounced artificial. This is an art not practised in England. Books are one quarter the price of English literature. Manuals and small encyclopædias abound, on cookery, women's dress, the sciences, and every thing. There are manuals on every art of life, three and four francs each.

French prices are these: cut glass, and glass moulded in the most elegant forms, for drinking cups, 10d. to 18. each; boots 12s., shoes 7s., a coat 17. 10s., trowsers 12s. to 15s., bats 10s. to 15s., board and lodging from 31. to 41. a month. I dined yesterday at one of the principal Cafés. We had one bottle of Burgundy, one of Chablis, (the best of all the white wines by the bye), two bottles of Champagne; turtle, pease, and maccaroni soups, one plate each; beef-steaks with delicious gravy-sauce; mutton, ragouts, poultry; two delicious dishes of hot pastry, 4s. each for a company. I dined in the Boulevards Italienne on Sunday, at an English chophouse; roast beef in excess, plum pudding, half a bottle of wine, a large glass of brandy punch, for 1s. 4d.-Casts' shops are very thick. Your friends, the heathen gods, sell here at any price.

If my ..... should come here, she will find it all in her line; rooms with wooden floors, cut like a tessellated pavement, or of bricks, glistening with wax like Roman pottery, two hand-dogs, and a wooden fire; high rooms, with beautiful ceilings, fine mahogany furniture, huge glasses, a splendid time

103

piece, a bed in every room, in a recess
or otherwise, huge window frames and
huge panes of glass, but no carpets, no
bells. You may die in the night; not
a soul would know of it; huge stair-
cases, horribly dirty; great folding
gates, and a porter to let you in and out
into the street. She would learn in a
French kitchen, instead of keeping up
a fire a yard high and a yard long all
day, that a small square machine like
a table, with four little iron cavities
grated at bottom, containing in each
cavity a little charcoal, will boil four
pots, kettles, or any thing at one time,
for one fiftieth what the boiling in an
English kitchen costs per week, and
serve a family of twenty people. She
will also find that no fires of wood or
coal are ever kept for servants, and that
a joint of meat is roasted thus: a ma-
chine, like a Dutch oven, with small
bars, is filled with charcoal, and put
down below a chimney without a
grate, and a joint, &c. is put on a spit
before it, and roasted; and when the
cooking is over, the fire and roasting
machine are removed. At dinner she
must take the middle of the table, and
you, her husband, the opposite side. If
five courses come on, one comes at a
time, which is one dish only, boiled
beef par exemple. She would chop up
the beef, like the bread in England, in
one dish, and send the dish round;
then each dish must come back again
for the gravy. So on with the turkey,
&c. Fish is about the last thing. In
a leg of mutton, the shank bone is left,
covered with a fine piece of paper
around it, cut out like papers round
mould candles, for a handle to hold the
joint by when carved. Salad, all float-
ing in oil. In the evening she would
be expected to go to a café; never drink
tea at home; for instance, to the Café
Sauvage, where, while she sipped her
coffee, a man, dressed like a savage,
would dance, beat a drum, and knock
a lot of bells about, like a Bedlamite ;
or to the Café du Pays, where she could
see a stage and a play going, whilst a
hundred tables would be filled with
companies drinking tea, coffee,&c.and
noblemen, gentry, loose women, rogues,
all in the same place, all in high glee,
with newspapers, laughter, and lots of
converse. If she kicked up any row,
the gens d'armes, or a file of men in
rich blue uniforms, standing in every
corner, would march her off at the
point of the bayonet, between two

Ancient Tapestry at Bamburgh Castle.