each insertion for four times, for ten times and upwards one franc per line, special notices three francs per line, editorial items five francs per line; Nation and Débats, four lines seventy-five centimes per line, advertisements above 150 lines fifty centimes per line, special notices two francs per line, editorial items three francs; Galignani's Messenger, seventy-five centimes a line each time, one advertisement above 300 lines fifty centimes a line, editorial items three francs. Other papers were lower, some taking advertisements for from twenty-five to forty centimes, and charging from one franc to two francs a line for editorial items; but their circulation was very limited. What are called broadside advertisements were very frequent in Paris papers; they were very ugly affairs to the eye of an Englishman; set up in sprawling capitals, like a handbill, a single advertisement frequently covering half or the whole of a page of a newspaper. This style of advertisement obtains now, but under different principles. The Presse and the Siècle used to make more money than any of the other papers by means of advertisements; in the year 1847 the income of the Presse for its two advertising pages was 300,000 francs. The advertising of the Débats and Constitutionnel was also profitable. Things have very considerably changed since then, and Parisian advertising may fairly be said to have become developed into a flourishing, though at the same time a very unique, system. The remark, "Show me the advertisements of a country, and I will tell you the character of its inhabitants," is not yet current among the choice sayings of great men, yet it or something similar might well be said with regard to modern Parisian notifications. Perhaps in no country so much as in France are public announcements and advertisements so thoroughly characteristic of a people. An important law recently introduced compels all announcements fixed or displayed in public places to bear each a ten-centime stamp, and the Government reserves to itself the right of alone using a perfectly white affiche. All posters, playbills, and placards unconnected with State. matters must be printed on coloured paper, though a small portion may remain white. The Parisians are proverbially neat in everything but their personal habits; and ugly, gaunt, straggling hoardings like those of London are quite unknown. to them. The principal vacant places in front of building ground are usually purchased by one of the principal Sociétés de Publicité. A large frame of wood and canvas is affixed to the hoarding and divided into a number of squares, which are painted a neutral tint. Then in all these squares different announcements are made in gay colours. When completed, the structure resembles the boards of advertisements placed in railway carriages and omnibuses, the scale of course being considerably larger. A well-executed painting of some country seat or park to let frequently figures in these spaces; and few stations are without some well-known and familiar advertisement, the French having like ourselves some firms which make it their business to be on every hoarding and in every paper. A large tailoring and drapery establishment which advertises. as follows is perhaps the best known of any:— MAISON DE LA RUE DE HABILLEMENTS PR HOMMES ET ENFANTS ON REND L'ARGENT DE TOUT ACHAT QUI À CESSE DE PLAIRE LA MAISON N'EST PAS AU COIN This advertisement is so well known that recently a revue bearing the title "La Maison n'est pas au Coin du Quai" was played at a well-known theatre, and in the recent version of " Orphée aux Enfers" at the Gaîté, the "on rend l'argent" portion is made the peg for a joke by the Monarch of Hell. The following also persistently arrest the attention of the traveller: "Au Bon Diable," "Eau Melisse des Carmes," "Chocolat Ibled," and "Old England British Tailors." The "Piano Quatuor" is also everywhere typified by the picture of a gentleman with hideous long fingers and pointed nails stretching over the strings of four violins. The theatres usually display their programmes on large columns specially constructed for the purpose, which are fixed about every two hundred yards along the principal Boulevards. As these bills are renewed nearly every day, this department alone must be very remunerative to the Government. No playbills are sold in the theatres, but many of the daily journals publish the programmes of all; and three papers, the Vert-Vert, the Orchestra, and the Entr'acte, are specially printed to serve as bills of the play. One peculiar circumstance connected with theatrical advertisements is worthy of notice. In each of those places of public convenience known to Parisians as "Les Colonnes Rambuteau," some mysterious individual has for years pasted a little piece of paper announcing the drama at the Ambigu Comique and the principal performers therein. Here is an exact copy of the one appearing during the month of June of the present year (1874) : Mor Kannoy Montbars of Mid Ribeaucou Lamant de la Lune ел drame L'Ambra Dayl de Rock, Ilabbeany de Come que For years some unknown person has thus maybe gratuitously advertised the house in question, and his identity is one of the mysteries of Paris. Two well-known Parisian journalists, piqued by the eccentricity of the advertisement, lay in wait one whole night and day for the purpose of discovering its author, but their effort was fruitless. While on the subject of these colonnes, we may note the fact that their exteriors are covered with advertisements, the most conspicuous among them being the bill of fare of the "Dîner de Rocher," a three-franc ordinary on the Boulevard Montmartre. The interior announcements are not of a nature for publication, and in that respect resemble kindred establishments this side the Channel. Next in importance to the hoardings and "spectacle" columns are the kiosques, in which the newspaper trade of Paris is chiefly carried on. The front is open, with the paper stall before it; but the remaining sides are of coloured glass, and each square contains an advertisement painted or stained upon it, generally in large letters. At night the light in the interior gives the kiosque a very gay and festive appearance. There are various minor methods of attracting public attention practised by the Parisian traders. The managers of the Louvre and Pygmalion, establishments similar to our Shoolbred's and Meeking's, give to each of their customers an air balloon with the name of the establishment from which it is issued painted upon it. Thousands of these are constantly bobbing about along the principal thoroughfares. The tickets given to seat occupiers in the public gardens and parks are beautifully illuminated cards covered with trade announcements. Some of the restaurants give each of their lady-customers a fan in summer, which is prettily ornamented with advertisements. At Duval's famous eating establishments the backs of the bills of fare are sold for a large sum to advertising contractors. It is calculated that this firm issues 30,000 cartes a day. Space will not allow us to enumerate the further thousand-and-one plans-some sensible, some silly-which the Parisians adopt for attracting public attention; we therefore pass on to the last and most important medium for advertisements-the Parisian newspapers. In French journals, as in some English, the réclame, or editorial puff, is eagerly sought after; and for unblushing effrontery in selling their pens to pushing tradesmen, we must yield the palm to our brother scribes across the water. "They order this matter better in France." Only a short time since M. de Villemessant, the editor of Le Figaro, gave a delightful specimen of the art in his own columns. He commenced by relating the history of the Duke of Hamilton and the sheep's wool left on the brambles. Then came a long description of the homes of the Highland shepherds, and their spinning wives. The English word "homespun" being thus introduced, the article wound up by advising les gentlemen français to rush to a certain shop in Paris where homespun was sold, and be measured for suits. A few days after the article had been published, its author was sauntering along the Boulevards clad in a homespun suit of the latest cut and pattern. We present a choice specimen of the réclame cut from the pages of the Parisian gommeux's favourite journal : Le Figaro n'oublie pas que son aïeul était coiffeur, aussi ne dédaignet-il pas de parler des chevaliers du démêloir, surtout lorsque ceux-ci se recommandent à l'attention du public par des qualités hors ligne. Nos lecteurs du quartier de l'Arc-de-Triomphe, y compris les Ternes, l'avenue de l'Impératrice, Neuilly, etc., ne se doutent pas qu'ils possèdent dans leur voisinage, 47, avenue de la Grande-Armée, un expert en fait de coiffures de femmes et d'hommes... Il se nomme Rivals et n'en connait pas (pardon!) pour la dexterité du peigne et la légèreté du rasoir. Here is another of these exquisite specimens of artistry in puffing. It is from La Vie Parisienne of a short time back: Les voyageurs pour la ligne d'Italie montent en voiture. Une minute, sac à papier! je n'ai pas pris mon café. Un qui se croit encore au temps des diligence: le chemin de fer n'attend pas. |