THE STONES OF PARIS.*
IN these days when men quibble over things of far less importance than a title we cannot think the authors of this book have been happy in their choice of one that has more than a suggestion of plagiarism in it. But for this, as well as for other mannerisms, they must be pardoned on account of the interest of their subject. Tribute must also be paid them for the thorough way in which they have carried out the necessary research, and, as they assure us in the introduction, they have spared themselves no trouble in verifying as far as possible their stores of information. It is, however, this very abundance of information which makes the book heavy and leaves its impression blurred. One could wish that less had been attempted so that more might have been achieved. Its eleven chapters make up about five hundred closely printed pages, all of which deal with interesting historical places and incidents, or illustrious men and women. The illustrations, partly photographic, partly original drawings by Mr. John Fulleylove, are of moderate interest, and, considering the importance attached to topographical details, might have well given place here and there to maps.
The opening chapter, " Three Time-worn Staircases," is a bold attempt to rebuild the Paris of the Middle Ages, following the line of the strongly fortified wall built by Philippe-Auguste. The picture drawn is an interesting one, and the "time-worn staircases" are used as pegs on which to hang descriptions of the age. The so-called " Tour de Dago- bert" is in reality of fifteenth-century construction, and Dagobert, the lion vivant, had no hand in its building at all. " The well-worn steps are narrow and the turn of the spiral is sharp, for this tower was built when space was precious and when hundreds huddled within walls that wilt hardly hold one thriving establishment of our day." But in spite of experts having proved that the tower is wrongly named, the legend attributing it to Dagobert is cherished in the quarter where the walls still stand in their "tranquil strength." The HOtel de in Reine Blanche is another landmark of mediaeval dignity which has not yet been destroyed. It stands in the Rue des Gobelins, and though the stories which connect it with Blanche of Castile seem very vague, it is her presence which pervades the rooms now given over to a tanner. The tower of "Jean sans Peur," near the Place de la Victoire, is a remnant of the Hotel de Bourgogne, and, to quote the authors of this record, "Blanche's stair modestly suggests a venture toward ease and elegance in life ; here we mount the stairway of a feudal chateau, broad and easy and stately, fitting frame for jewelled courtiers and iron-clad men-at- arms." Happily this fragment of the architecture of the
• The Stones of Paris. By Benjamin Ellis Martin and Charlotte Martin. London : Smith, Elder, and Co. [Pe. ed.]
fifteenth century is still in sufficiently good preservation to be looked upon as an authentic document as well as being a picturesque memory of fine old fighting times.
In " The Scholars' Quarter of the Middle Ages" we read of the beginning of the Latin quarter when Abelard, Rabelais, Dante, Ronsard, Erasmus, and a host of others sought the quiet of its walls for means to study. There were, neverthe- less, drawbacks of a material nature before which even their great minds were troubled, if we are to credit the story that Erasmus was driven by his "Lutheran stomach" from the College Montaigu which then occupied the site of the Biblio- theque Ste. Genevieve. "It had earned the nickname of the College des Haricots because of the lenten fare lavished on its inmates—beans, stale eggs, spoiled fish, and that monotony broken by frequent fasts From this College, says Erasmus, I carried nothing but a body infected with disease and a plentiful supply of vermin." Rabelais, too, is said to have cursed the memory of this " galley for slaves" which was used as a prison during the Revolution.
In the chapters which deal with Moliere and his friends, with Beaumarchais, Voltaire, Honore de Balzac, Victor Hugo, Alexandre Dumas, we see the authors at their best. In their enthusiasm for these giants in literature they lose certain irritating mannerisms; and though they tell us little that is new, they succeed in reviving our interest in the everyday lives of the past great ones, and in making their dwelling-places appear to us as something more than mere numbers in a street marked by a tablet. With the eternally young Dumas they show special sympathy : " Dumas lives and will never die as long as men love strength and daring, loyalty and generosity, good love-making and good fighting." In another chapter, through which walk Lamartine, Sainte-Beuve, Michelet, Renan, George Sand, Daudet, Chateaubriand, and others of their day, we get more than a peep of that Anglo- Saxon point of view which looks with a cold eye on exaltation to which harder names are sometimes applied. Lamartine and Madame de Stael attract this glance, and the latter is here used to adorn a tale and perhaps to point a moral. When visiting England during the Terror she apparently bored Mr. Pitt by protesting too much that there was no word in English equivalent to the French sentiment ; and he answered, not very gallantly we think : " Mais, Madame, nous rayons ; c'est My eye and Betty Martin.' " In "The Making of the Marais" we are again carried back to the Middle Ages to watch the gradual reclaim- ing of the marshland on the right bank of the Seine opposite the Ile de la Cite. The real delight with which we read this story is stimulated by the fact that so many of the old land- marks have been left almost untouched, and one can leave the written pages to wander round the narrow streets, about the Place Royale, now the Place des Vosges, and through the old house of Madame de Sevigne, without experiencing any rude shock to destroy the illusion that they are all still haunted by the bright spirits of the women who in their day made history. Under the charm of such an atmosphere Daudet wrote his Bois en Exil, Victor Hugo much of his verse and his last dramatic success, Ruy Bias, and from its memories almost every French writer of distinction has drawn some inspiration. No wonder, when one thinks of the brilliant company that once walked in those now deserted ways : Margaret de Valois, Gabrielle d'Estrees, the terrible Marquise de Brinvilliers, Madame de Maintenon. Ninon de l'Enclos, who was "at home" to her friends from five until nine every evening up to the age of eighty-four, and at the age of sixty made amazing conquests with her " alluring eyes and her direct ingenuous smile which gave her the look of a girl"—and such friends : Corneille, Racine, Moliere, Boileau, La Rochefoucauld, and Voltaire, who as a little boy of twelve so won her heart that at her death she left him a thousand crowns to buy books.
The charm of these records is unquestionable, and for this reason, as we have said before, the faults in their construction may be overlooked. One cannot, however, help regretting the lack of good literary technique when one reads the charming sketches written by M. Cain on much the same architectural subjects, and the vigorous historical studies of M. Ler1tre. Unavoidably one compares their workmanship with that of the authors of The Stones of Paris. The Frenchmen's work is light and simple, but never frivolous; that of Mr. Martin and his collaborator is solid and over-complicated, and the liberties they allow themselves to take with the
meaning and the use of words cannot be passed by in silence. They talk of "portly meadows," or use the verb "to gloom" in prose,—to say nothing of the persistent use of the emphatic " this " and " these" when " the " would have been all-sufficient. Such details may be of minor importance when weighed against many virtues ; but they are big enough to disturb the pleasure of the reader, and they trouble his peace of mind even more than the opinion that the Hotel de Ville is the "most nearly perfect of modern structures ; perfect in design, execution and material, a con- summate scheme carried out to the last exquisite detail by architects, sculptors and decorators, all masters of their craft "; or the fact that in one or two cases the information given is out of date,—for instance, the statement that the Abbaye aux Bois still stands, or that the Cafe Procope still strives after a literary clientele. The one was pulled down a year ago, and the other is now a thriving eating-house where the waiters wear moustaches.
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