Fort Worth daily gazette. (Fort Worth, Tex.) 1882-1891, 1890-04-06

revolution any Dight. 1t gives pecu-
liar interest to things to think that next
week this building or that monument
may not be here. ''ViTe anarchist,
vive la Republique!' shouts one crowd;
'fVive Ia Monarchie! Vive le Duo = Or
leans!' shrieks another.
l dare to say that I am not fond of
Paris. Somehow, I do not like the
moral atmosphere of the place. 1t is not
quaint and picturesque with the air of
having grown, and of being imbued with
humanity like London; nor has 1t any
natural beauty of situation nor surround
ings, nor tracts of beautiful country en-
closed within it, as parks. l do not adj
mire the French architecture; the
churches are mostly built in the mean
ingless renaissance style, and disfgured
on the exterior by pretty ornaments that
detTact from the dignity and simplicity
of outline that we love in the house Of
God; many of them are imposing from
their very size, but as whole, they
cannot compare with London and New
York churches for architectural beauty.
Notre Dame has such glamour of history
and romance around 1t, it is so immensely
somberly magnificent, one cannot sustain
CRITICAL ATTITUDE
toward it. Well 1 remember the first
time I entered it; a long procession of
men and women bearing candles made
the middle aisle q stream of light; far
up at the altar stood some young girls
robed and yelled in white, while the
great chorus of some Latin hymn, in
which the congregation united, filled the
mighty edifice so full that the very arches
seemed upborne by the sound.
AS for the French palaces, they are
simply great square buildings succeed
with cupids and flowers. The architects
have vainly striven to compensate for
the poverty of their ideas by profusion
of ornaments; the exterior Of the Lux
embourg, St. Cloud, Foutanebleau and
Versailles is certainly unpleasing.
Neither are there fine private residences
varied or interesting in design; there ls
absolutely no variety of architecture; if
a Partisan does not liye in fiat he lives
in house that is built like q fat. The
villas one sees in the country around
Paris are also square as a box, scrolled
with these ubiquitous. oupids and their
inseparable garlands, and painted white.
The French have very different ideas
of gardening from the English. In the
gardens of the Tuileries, the Luxembourg
and Versailles, trees, shrubs and flowers
have to
WALK CHALK LINE,
and to be as unnatural as possible, on the
principle that since old Mother Nature
neglects to plant her trees in rows and
her flowers in parterres, it behooyes man
to arrange her creation in proper
geometrical shape. Neither does a
French cemetery fulfill our ideal of what
is beautiful in that line. In place of
tombstones, tiny little chapels are usu-
ally built over the graves. You can look
into these little stone chambers by put
ting your face close up TO the grating
which covers the glass of the door, ana
you will see a little altar covered with
artificial flowers, and sometimes bearing
the photograph of the deceased. As we
walked along in Pire Lachaise, the
largest and most celebrated of French
cemeteries, gazing in one little window
after another on the same bright show
within. I was reminded of that game of
Fpin- pin pop-show- give-a- pin -te-s
see-the-sboW, - that 1 played as child.
When you pay pin for the privilege of
inserting your eye to piece of glass COW
ering hole in the ground, which hole
your playmate has decked with all the
flowers and bright pebbles and bits of
broken things he could find 81 I prefer
the 'pop-show with its real roses to
the artificial glories of the French tomb-
chapels. Flowers of cloth with which
Pere Lachaise blooms are quite bad
enough, and offensive enough tos good
taste in such place. but whazs car, be
said of these huge wreaths of black and
white and purple beads with whs6hHhe
Parisians cover the sacred bodies of their
dead! Even the tomb of Victor Hugo in
the Pantheon Is hung with these
HIDEoUs CoNCoCTIoNs,
and there are numerous shops where
nothing else is sold. The world bows to
Freuch taste; how is this?
It strikes me that Paris is city of
artists; that is, of those who love art
more than nature. A painting is more
to them than real mountains and real
ields the theater more interesting than
life. They are like children in their love
Of effect, besides which reality is OF little
the show OF a thing Is as
good as the thing itself. Thus, though
hey show the most perfect taste in the |
making of a bonnet and the |
lraping of dress, they live so far from
he heart of mother nature that they !
commit such atrocities as to adorn that |
asst solemn birth from the natural to the |
spiritual with their pretty artiflcialities. |
All, this is the land of petty |
hings; of gloves and hats and gew-
ya,Fs and bon-bons! The Frenchman /
IAN make gobelin tapestry, and Sevres
china, but you may look in vain for |
warm underclothing or q pair of sensi-
,le shoes; he can build better summer
house than q residence, q finer opera
louse than church; he can ,tnazags & t
world exhibition better thansA republic. :
4owever much you may aike these
french people, you are conAsi0us tbakss.
here is something lacking in theHssai
certain depth, certain solidity, an
arnestness of purpose, certainty
lon Il know what. However much ysis4
nay dislike them for their superfcialfty