The Sun.
London, England, 1814-09-06 00:00:00

(Na. XV(.)

Paris, Stipaday 30,

From. . . .
F the jardin des PIOMes, as I stated in My
last, I drove to the new St.'Genevieve, or rather
the Pantheon Francais, for in revOlatio.naty times,
'when churches :to wOrship God were
,t4eoeed to
:be unnecessary, this divine Butsilique was convert-
ed into an earthly monument., And wir4 'destined
by the National Assembly 'to become the reposi-7
'tory of the carcases of great men who signalized
themselves, like the ancient Titans, in oppressing
their 'fellOW-creatures and defying Heaven !
The architectural boasl.of the age of Louis XV.
Was therefore desecrated; the 'religious de-
tOrations Woe rubbed oilt, and the 'Chris-
tian Church of •St. Genevieve became the hea-
then Pantheon of the Vrench Nation ! But it
seemed as if Fate had determined that this sa-
crilege should not be accomplished with impu-
nity. The noble dome sunk within its socket of
pillars, and all the art of the modern architect was
required to_sustain its light and elevated form, by
the addition of supports, which destroy its beauty.
Still, however, it is a.superb example of Grecian
architecture ; rich in ornament, and, th 04411 at
present filled with rubbish occasioned by. the al-
terations, and repairs, magnificent in effect. The
entire building is in the slope of a Greek Crows,
340 French feet. in length and 250 in breadth.
The portico is a fine piece of Corinthian archi-
tecture, apparently about forty feet high, and in
large letters over the columns is this inscription :

Aux Grand: llonnes la patrie reconnaissante ;

the meaning of which is explained in the Vaults
below, where a number of BUONAPARTE'S Sena-
tors and Generals sleep. profoundly:. They are
disposed in small Aisles, upon the walls of which
their frail memorials.are inscribed, and the lying
sculpture has said, that A.B. C.D. were "grand!
homilies," and deserving of the admiration of pos-
tctit'y ! ! These' subterranean Vaults arc alSo
enriched with the tombs*, if -not with tl►e relics,
of VoLTArnp. and ltossEAu, whose writings, no
doubt, greatly contributed to that state of things
which floated France witl► human blOcid, and led
to the existence of the Princes, Grand Dignata-
ries, and _Members of the Legion of- Honour of
BUONAPARTE, who now rest quietly in the neigh-
tourhood'of their peaceful remains. These Sepul—
chres, to which you descend by a passage on the
side of the principal entrance, are curiously
hewed out in the manner of a labyrinth.—
In .the body of the Church is .a statue of
LAN: ES (Duke Of_ MONTEBELLO-others were
in contemplation, but the fall of 13u 0:v ,u; AL-.L.

prevented the apotheosis of his myrmidons.—
There must be a fine view of Paris from the top
of this place, but during my stay it was not allow-
ed to ascend the Cupola.
After dieing at Beauvilliers, I went to the The-
atre Francais in the same street. The Play was
" The Return
,of Ulysses;" and the Farce, a
favourite on the French stage,. '' George Dan-
din.- Owing to circumstances of attraction, it

Was a crowded night, ancl there was great d;ffi-
culty in getting forward to the entrance. Of all
the inconveniences. in Paris the inconvenience
of paying at the Receipt-Office of the Theatre
is the most serious. The, pressure of.persons for
all parts of the 1-louse tends to two points. At
the one, the admissions arc for the Galleries, and
some other inferior places—at the other, for Pit,
Boxes, Orchestra, &c. The tumult is conse-

quently prodigious, and even were the avenues
the most facile possible, still the annoyance Of
mobbing would not be very agreeable. But as the
accommodations exist, it is intolerable and dan-
gerous in the extreme. The price of the place must
,be thrust through a hole in a grating like a'trapi
about six inches square, and while your hand is
here waiting while the money is counted, and the
cheque given, you are,liable to be pushed froth
your place, and your arm dislocated- or cut in a
dreadful manner before yoti-can.disengage•it.trOm
the aperture.. Should you, by strength of nerve
or good fortune, escape' all injury, the way
into the Theatre is afterwards easy—but do not
go to the Orchestra of this Theatre, or indeed any
other. I did. It is a nasty little box, at the end,
of the Fiddlers' compartment, and, though it cost
thrice us much, I was glad to exchange it for the
Pit, by leaping over, the railway which divides
them. •

The'Theatre itself is 'a
shabby-looking place,
and for a people who are fond of dramatic amuse-
ments, absolutely disgraceful, on account of its
mean and filthy appearance.

lam aware, that a Foreigner cannot com-
petent to deliver a correct opinion Upon Ole merits
ers a strange language,
or demerits of Perform

* These " /J 6ried urns" are of wood, painted to resemble
sfoue; with long Epitaphs inscribed upon them. Such tlikUsy
Memorials are worthy of the plan of 131.TONAPARTE.

*of „4 c6ifiArY ivtic4e 'Manlier's and habits are
'dissimilar to thole to Which he is accustomed.
Still there a' e grekl and prominent land-marks,
on • WhiCh every inan of taste and 'education is
adequate *to form a judgment. To 'this extent
'only, I Wish to he received in whit I may yen-
'ure to say respecting the French Stage.
To. speak generally, it appears to Me, that how-
ever habit may render it palatable, and, in fadt,
confine the critical powers of appreciation to that
limited circle, the very language and structure of
French Tragedy is destructive of nature,, real.
feeling, and deep or pernianent effect. One may
start at a glowing and, impassioned sentiment
given with fire by an accomplished actor ;, the
`pathos of a lovely woman in distress may even
excite a tear, when a- brief exclamation of sorrow
is Beard and her gestures proclaim unspeakable
wretchedness ; but listen to either for a few
seconds, -and hear in the one the language
of ene4-getic rassion degenerate into the' mea-
sured sing-song of verse ; -in the other, the
accents of woe revolve into hexameters of
grievous declamation—apt the Writer and the
Player . are before us,' and the delusion of the
sense is dispelled. I imagine that the British
Stage was somewhat allied to this unvarying
rant, till GAttatcs'. appeared, and introduceti
Nature.--Nature was the fist, Mother of the
Stage : the •firSt Players imitated life, and their
efforts were a rude copy of reality. Itrt succeed-
ing times Art became the instructress of the
Drama. What was, 14 the beginning, an im-
provement to polish the earliest style, usurped
the sole dominion, and Tragedy walked on
stilts; Comedy flashed with the corruscations
of wit smelling of the lamp,- but -not congenial
to living IHRMICFS. SHAKESPEARE, as an Aniline,
recurred to the grand
.source of delight and inspi-
ration; but, in process of time, even the words of
SHAKESPEARE came to be mouthed out in measured
pomp, and the English Stage, half a century ago,
was. nearly what the French is now—perhaps not
quite so bad ; for our Plays sere not-so artificially
(they call it regularly) constructed as to put it in
the performer's power utterly to destroy the na-
tural effect of deep distress and affecting situati.on.
But I ant digressing into an Essayist instead of
a Tourist. TALsrA. is a fine figure ; his voice is
good, the tones masculine and powerful ; his ex-
pression of countenance noble and capable of all
the modifications necessary to tragedy ; his eye
penetrating, dark,' and full of sentiment ;, his
gestures, mode'of walking the stage, and self-
possession, -all contribute to rank hint as a first-
rate tragedian: That his acting gave me no plea-
sure, I. therefore impute to the trammels in which
he performed,—a race-horse in a broad-wheeled
waggon team may slew his bloodtaml induce a
belief in his speed, hat will, scarcely clear a 'five-
bared gate, or achieve eighteen miles an hour.
Fettered in eternally recurring rhyme, cold amid
unimpressive declamation was all I heard froal
TALNIA,----A Mademoiselle GEORGES vas the he-
roine ; she declaimed also. A Mademoiselle Du-
CHENOIS played the Son of Ulysses, and she also
declaimed; but, to my mind, with more of variety
and -nature than either of the others, 'and she
pleased me more. In some places, where there
was a break in the line, by the interlocution of
the dramatic personages, the sentiments were
delivered,with wonderful effect by the three-per-
formers I have named ; and this proves' that the
poetry alone cramped their energies, and destroyed
the vigour of their efforts. But I ant warned by
my paper that a-break in my line may also be. ad-
vantageous, and I hasten to sign myself

VIATOR

IMPROVEMENT OF WEsTmtssTER.-=—The
Re-
ports of the Conimissions for executing the Acts
relative to the Improvement of Westminster, con-
taining the accounts,of their receipt and expendi-
ture from, May. the Sth, 1811,/to December the
31st, are printed by order of the House of
Commons.

It appears that from May 8, 1811, to April 27, 1812, their
receipts, consisting of 1,4341. balance remaining in the Dank,
of cash under the King's warrant 14,5451.19951 from sale of
old 'materials,- and from div,krs rents, amounted to 18,3331.
Gs. Bd. There out-goings is the 'satin period for compensa-
tions for different interests affected by the alterations, sur-
veyors' charges of near 5001. mid a bill till• law_ business of
7661., were less than their receipts hythe suns of 13181. left
in the Bank. From April 27, to December 31, 1314, their
receits were 6,436l.incloding cash under a warrant fur 4,4361.
Their outgoings in the same period left a balance in the
hank of 16451.. The produce of the sales of the building; pull-
ed down was 19951. 55.3 d. Receipts front Di2C. 31,181'2, to Dec.
13, 1813, were 3,4731. 12s. The 'disbiirsements,. iftelnding .two
law charges, one of 5001.-and another of 6551., were 2,3061.
iSs. Then follows the consent of the Treasury to a grant of
land for the Westminster' Free School, and for the removal of
St. Margaret's •watchhouce to the New Way, Almonry, the
parish of St.
,Margaret paying 1501. towards the expense.
Their Lordships decline purchasing the New Court-house,
but recommend the removal of the portico from the South.
to the East side of that building, and undertake to pay the
expense. - The vacant space to the East and West of the
Court-house is to be inclosed and planted.

I'EDESTRIANISM.—An aged pedestrian of sixty
and upwards, but who is well known on the pat ,
undertook for a wager of five to twenty guineas,
to walk ninety miles in twenty four hours ; a
thing not very difficult to a professed Walker. The
ground fixed on was near Shooter's-hill, and the
pedestrian kept steadily at five miles an hour,.al-
lowing himself time to stop for refreshment. lie
started at eight o'clock, won easy, and received
his twenty guineas.