Her Husband Being A
Learned Oriental Scholar, She, Like Some Other Women Enjoying Similar
Privileges, Has Picked Up A Deal Of Information, Which She Tosses
About In Conversation, In A Gay, Piquant Manner, Much As A Kitten
Plays With A Pin Ball.
Madame remembers Mesdames Recamier and De Stael, and told me several
funny anecdotes of the former.
Madame R., she said, was always
coquetting with her own funeral; conversed with different artists on
the arrangements of its details, and tempting now one, now another,
with the brilliant hope of the "composition" of the scene. Madame M.
offered me her services as _cicerone_ to Paris, and so to-day out
we went - first to the Pantheon, of which, in her gay and piquant
style, she gave me the history.
Begun first in the time of Louis XVI. as a church, in the revolution
its destination was altered, and it was to be a temple to the manes of
great men, and accordingly Rousseau, Voltaire, and many more are
buried here. Well, after the revolution, the Bourbons said it should
not be a temple for great men, it should be a church. The next popular
upset tipped it back to the great men again; and it staid under their
jurisdiction until Louis Napoleon, who is very pious, restored it to
the church. It is not possible to say how much further this very
characteristic rivalry between great men and their Creator is going to
extend. All I have to say is, that I should not think the church much
of an acquisition to either party. He that sitteth in the heavens must
laugh sometimes at what man calls worship. This Pantheon is, as one
might suppose from its history, a hybrid between a church and a
theatre, and of course good for neither - purposeless and aimless. The
Madeleine is another of these hybrid churches, begun by D'Ivry as a
church, completed as a temple to victory by Napoleon, and on second
thoughts, re-dedicated to God.
After strolling about a while, the sexton, or some official of the
church, asked us if we did not want to go down into the vaults below.
As a large party seemed to be going to do the same, I said, "0, yes,
by all means; let us see it out." Our guide, with his cocked hat and
lantern, walked ahead, apparently in a now of excellent spirits. These
caverns and tombs appeared to be his particular forte, and he
magnified his office in showing them. Down stairs we went, none of us
knowing what we wanted to see, or why. Our guide steps forth, unlocks
the gate? of Hades, and we enter a dark vault with a particularly
earthy smell. Bang! he shuts the door after him. Clash! he locks it;
now we are in for it! and elevating his lantern, he commences a
deafening proclamation of some general fact concerning the very
unsavory place in which we find ourselves. Of said proclamation I hear
only the thundering _"Voila"_ at the commencement. Next he
proceeds to open the doors of certain stone vaulted chambers, where
the great men are buried, between whose claims and their Creator's
there seems to be such an uncertainty in France. Well, here they were,
sure enough, maintaining their claim by right of possession.
_"Voila le tombeau de Rousseau!"_ says the guide. All walked in
piously, and stood to see a wooden tomb painted red. At one end the
tomb is made in the likeness of little doors, which stand half open,
and a hand is coming out of them holding a flambeau, by which it is
intimated, I suppose, that Rousseau in his grave is enlightening the
world. After a short proclamation here, we were shown into another
stone chamber with _"Voila le tombeau de Voltaire!"_ This was of
wood also, very nicely speckled and painted to resemble some kind of
marble. Each corner of the tomb had a tragic mask on it, with that
captivating expression of countenance which belongs to the tragic
masks generally. There was in the room a marble statue of Voltaire,
with that wiry, sharp, keen, yet somewhat spiteful expression which
his busts commonly have.
But our guide has finished his prelection here, and is striding off in
the plenitude of his wisdom. Now we are shown a long set of stone
apartments, provided for future great men. Considering the general
scarcity of the article in most countries, these sleeping
accommodations are remarkably ample. Nobody need be discouraged in his
attempts at greatness in Paris, for fear at last there won't be room
to bury him. After this we were marched to a place where our guide
made a long speech about a stone in the floor - very instructive,
doubtless, if I had known what it was: my Parisian friend said he
spoke with such a German accent she could not understand; so we humbly
took the stone _on trust,_ though it looked to the eye of sense
quite like any other.
Then we were marched into a part of the vault celebrated for its echo.
Our guide here outdid himself; first we were commanded to form a line
_en militaire_ with our backs to the wall. Well, we did form
_en militaire._ I did it in the innocence of my heart, entirely
ignorant of what was to come next. Our guide, departing from that
heroic grandeur of manner which had hitherto distinguished him,
suddenly commenced screaming and hooting in a most unparalleled style.
The echo was enough to deafen one, to be sure, and the first blast of
it made us all jump. I could think of nothing but Apollyon amusing
himself at the expense of the poor pilgrims in the valley of the
shadow of death; for the exhibition was persisted in with a
pertinacity inscrutable to any wisdom except his own. It ended by a
brace of thumps on the wall, each of which produced a report equal to
a cannon; and with this salvo of artillery the exhibition finished.
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