Yours with respect, unless he be an old man. In speaking of the schools, he tells me that he thinks the visit of a woman to their schools would not be well received by the Brothers of the Christian Doctrine. He adds, that simultaneous instruction, or schools for both sexes, are not permitted, except in small communes, townships where the children are too few to make two schools. On the subject of churches, he tells me that if the government did not support the churches of different persuasions, the Catholics would become all-powerful, adding, that at this time the liberal Protestants can scarcely sustain themselves, as the government does not help them. He means at Paris. He speaks to me of the great controversy which resulted in withdrawing government support from the liberal Protestant church at Paris. Guizot, the historian, was a Protestant, opposed to Martin Pachoud, a liberal, having a chair in the Reformed Church, Mr. Coquerel being his suffragan. The professor adds, that Mr. Guizot told him that liberal Protestantism is not a religion but a philosophy. I myself understand that the views of the liberal Protestants of France are like those of Theodore Parker, or advanced Unitarian. In speaking of their newspapers, the professor gives me the names of some supporting the different parties. Among others, he mentions L'Union, an organ of the Legitimists or old Bourbons; Le Soleil, of the Orleans party; Le Pays, of the Bonapartists. Of the Democratic journals he gives these in the following order: La République Française, La France, and Le Rappel. All, I understand, are daily, and none bring in an income like that of the Public Ledger, in Philadelphia. What makes this paper so valuable is the advertisements; but the French do not advertise freely in the journals as we do. Of another celebrated Parisian paper, the professor tells me that Figaro ! is a rope-dancer; its specialty is scandalous stories; travellers read it in the cars, it amuses them, but it is not fit for families. All my Parisian acquaintances who mention this paper speak of it in a similar manner; but my American friend does not agree with them. Friday, May 3d.-A very noticeable thing in Paris is gilding on the outside of buildings, as on the great dome of the Invalides, and on figures on the Grand Opera-house. I do not admire it, nor what I may call the tawdry appearance of the latter building, which cost so much money. I pay, to-day, my first visit to the Exposition, and observe a fine figure in marble of a wounded soldier, which reminds me of the Dying Gladiator; but why a nude, or nearly nude, figure should wear an immense helmet with a tail streaming from it, I cannot tell. In one of Miss Biddy Fudge's letters from France, as given by Tom Moore, that young lady laments that Not a monk can be had now for love or for money, If she were thus dissatisfied with Napoleon I., she would be gratified at Paris now, where so many ecclesiastics are walking about in petticoats and long robes (if these are the names of their articles of dress). They are seen at the Exposition, which is not surprising, for they are considered to be men of peace, and this is a peaceable competition. On the streets there would be more soldiers than in the Exposition. The common soldier, with one sou a day, can scarcely afford to visit it. I am recommended to the restaurant Duval upon the grounds, and here I find the same class of neat women waiters as at their place near the Madeleine church. Should we have another great affair of the kind, some of our restaurant-keepers may learn a lesson from their exactness in keeping accounts. As you enter, As you enter, a person hands you a list of their establishments and of what they furnish. Afterwards the waiter takes the list, and makes little pencil marks opposite to the things you order; or, if the article be not on the printed list, she sets her mark beside another of the same price. When done, you go and hand this to a woman-cashier, who quickly sums up the account; you pay her, she stamps the list, and as you go out you hand it to a man in waiting. At the Exposition, one of my countrymen says to me, "Have you seen the gospel-distribution stands, where the English are distributing gospels and tracts? The French are quite eager to receive them." May 4th.-I am going to leave Lenoir's before the week expires. My room, small as it is, is taken by a man and woman. I see her, and am pleased with her looks. I ask Lenoir whether they can cook there. No, although there is indeed a pipe-hole for a stove in winter. "And where will they get their meals?" I ask. With a gesture, he answers, "Every one is free," to eat with him or elsewhere. This is Saturday, and I have not got over the impression that I must buy things to-day, because to-morrow is Sunday. On the street, I see nice-looking boys trooping out from a door; they wear a slightly-marked dress, with showy buttons; some of them seem to be in charge of young A gentleman kisses one of the boys. Near the close of the troop two ecclesiastics appear, and then two or women. three men in citizen's dress. Of one of them, carrying a portfolio, I ask what the place is, and am told that it is the College St. Ignatius, conducted by the Jesuits. I go round to try to find the front of the building; but upon another street I see another long building from which scholars are coming out, not so much dressed, it seems to me, as our public school-children; for almost none of the girls wear bonnets. Above the first story of the building is cut in large letters, "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity. Communal school of young boys. Primary instruction." From the building floats the tricolored banner. On a board over one door is painted, "City of Paris," with the number of the ward and the words, "Communal Laic School for Young Girls." The other door is for the boys, and on a neat board at the door is a notice of the hours of evening school. This is a public school, not under the care of the clergy, and in grade similar to our grammar-schools. No yard is in front of the school-house, nor is one seen at either end; there is no effort at elegant architecture, and none of the pride of naming the school for a public citizen; little or none of the distinguished appearance which marks some of our schools at home. So I surmise that distinction is for the military man, and remember, too, the great Trocadero upon the Exposition grounds, which, I hear, is built at the expense of the city for festivals. It is, indeed, however, used for a part of the Exposition. I enter the boys' end of the school-house, before mentioned, and find a neat hall paved with stone. Between this and the girls' department is a room, labelled "Concierge." Hanging in the school-hall is a handsomely-framed blue paper, a tablet of honor, and on white slips are introduced the names of the pupils distinguished. Thus runs the list of subjects, each followed by pupils' names: Religious in struction, reading, good behavior, writing, orthography, arithmetic, duties, history and geography, assiduity, recitation, gymnastics, application. Singing has only one name, and drawing four. Duties or devoirs I understand to be such exercises as compositions, and examples in arithmetic, attended to out of regular school-hours. The scholars enter at nine and remain till twelve, and again from one to four. Thursday is the holiday instead of Saturday. Going up stairs I find the principal in one of the school-rooms; he, with his family, living in the school-building, as is customary. He tells me that religious instruction in these schools includes the catechism. I learn, too, from him that I cannot visit the public schools without permission, and that I should apply to the Prefect of the Seine, or to Mr. Gréard, who is at the head of primary instruction in this department. I tell the teacher that such religious instruction would never do in our country; that we have had trouble enough between Protestants and Catholics about reading the Scriptures in the schools. It seems to me that he is uneasy; perhaps because two of the boys are within hearing.* This is the day that I am to remove to my new lodgings. I hear that there is a commissaire or porter at Lenoir's, and I appoint a time for him to come, and the poor little man seems to make a note of it, but the hour comes, and not the Down stairs I go, out of the court-yard, and to the man. * According to report, the number of schools of this grade-or primary, as they are called in France-was, in 1877, 71,547, of which 9352 were entirely gratuitous. The number of these schools under charge of the clergy, or congreganiste, was about 20,000, employing 9468 men and 37,216 women. Instruction by the laity employs about 24,000 men and 22,000 women. |