I found no greater alteration in _Paris_, after ten years' absence from
it, than the prodigious difference of expence; most articles, I think,
are one-third dearer, and many double; a horse is not half so well fed
or lodged at _Paris_ as at _London_; but the expence is nearly a guinea
a week, and a stranger may drive half round the city before he can lodge
himself and his horses under the same roof.[F]
[F] _Paul Gilladeau_ who lately left the Silver Lion, at _Calais_,
has, I am informed, opened a Livery Stable at _Paris_, upon the
_London_ plan, in partnership with _Dessein_, of the _Hotel
d'Angleterre_ at _Calais_: a convenience much wanted, and
undertaken by a man very likely to succeed.
The beauties, the pleasures, and variety of amusements, which this city
abounds with, are, without doubt, the magnets which attract so many
people of rank and fortune of all nations to it; all which are too well
known to be pointed out by me.--To a person of great fortune in the
_hey-day_ of life, _Paris_ may be preferable even to _London_; but to
one of my age and walk in life, it is, and was ten years ago, the least
agreeable place I have seen in France.--Walking the streets is extremely
dangerous, riding in them very expensive; and when those things which
are worthy to be seen, (and much there is very worthy) have been seen,
the city of _Paris_ becomes a melancholy residence for a stranger, who
neither plays at cards, dice, or deals in the principal manufacture of
the city; i.e. _ready-made love_, a business which is carried on with
great success, and with more decency, I think, that even in _London_.
The English Ladies are _weak_ enough to attach themselves to, and to
love, one man. The gay part of the French women love none, but receive
all, _pour passer le tems_.--The _English_, unlike the _Parisian_
Ladies, take pains to discover _who_ they love; the French women to
dissemble with those they hate.
It is extremely difficult for even strangers of rank or fortune, to get
among the first people, so as to be admitted to their suppers; and
without that, it is impossible to have any idea of the luxury and stile
in which they live: quantity, variety, and show, are more attended to in
France, than neatness. It is in England alone, where tables are served
with real and uniform elegance; but the appetite meets with more
provocatives in France; and the French _cuisine_ in that respect,
certainly has the superiority.
Ten years ago I had the honour to be admitted often to the table of a
Lady of the first rank. On _St. Ann's-day_, (that being her name-day)
she received the visits of her friends, who all brought either a
valuable present, a poesy, or a compliment in verse: when the dessert
came upon the table, which was very magnificent, the middle plate
seemed to be the finest and fairest fruit (_peaches_) and I was much
surprized, that none of the Ladies, were helped by the gentlemen from
_that_ plate: but my surprize was soon turned into astonishment! for the
peaches suddenly burst forth, and played up the Saint's name, (_St.
Ann_) in artificial fire-works! and many pretty devices of the same
kind, were whirled off, from behind the coaches of her visitors, to
which they were fixed, as the company left the house, which had a pretty
effect, and was no indelicate way of _taking a French leave_.
There is certainly among the French people of fashion an ease and
good-breeding, which is very captivating, and not easily obtained, but
by being bred up with them, from an early age; the whole body must be
formed for it, as in dancing, while there is the pliability of youth;
and where there is, as in France, a constant, early, and intimate
correspondence between the two sexes. Men would be fierce and savage,
were it not for the society of the other sex, as may be seen among the
Turks and Moors, who must not visit their own wives, when other men's
wives are with them. In France, the Lady's bed-chamber is always open,
and she receives visits in bed, or up, with perfect ease. A noble Lord,
late ambassador to this country, told me, that when he visited a young
and beautiful woman of fashion, (I think too it was a first visit after
marriage) she received him sitting up in her bed; and before he went,
her _fille de chambre_ brought his Lordship _Madame le Comtesse_'s shift
elegantly festooned, which his Lordship had the honour to put over the
Lady's head, as she sat in bed!--nor was there, by that favour, the
least indecency meant; it was a compliment intended; and, as such only,
received. Marks of favour of _that_ sort, are not marks of _further
favours_ from a French Lady.
In this vast city of amusements, among the _other arts_, I cannot help
pointing out to your particular notice, _Richlieu_'s monument in the
_Sorbonne_, as an inimitable piece of modern sculpture[G] by
_Girardeau_; and _Madame la Valliere's_ full-length portrait by _le
Brun_: She was, you know, mistress to _Lewis_ the XIVth, but retired to
the convent, in which the picture now is, and where she lived in
repentance and sorrow above thirty years.[H]
[G] VOLTAIRE says, this monument is not sufficiently noticed by
strangers.
[H] MADAME VALLIERE, during her retirement, being told of the death
of one of her sons, replied, "I should rather grieve for his birth,
than his death."
The _connoisseurs_ surely can find no reasonable fault with the
monumental artist; but they do, I think, with _le Brun_; the drapery,
they say, is too full, and that she is overcharged with garments; but
fulness of dress, adds not only dignity, but decency, to the person of
a fine woman, who meant (or the painter for her) to hide, not to expose
her charms.
If fulness be a fault, it is a fault that _Gainsborough_, _Hoare_,
_Pine_, _Reynolds_, and many other of our modern geniuses are _guilty
of_; and if it be _sin_, the best judges will acquit them for committing
it, where dignity is to be considered.
_Madame Valliere_ appears to have been scattering about her jewels, is
tearing her hair, crying, and looking up to the heavens, which seem
bursting forth a tempest over her head. The picture is well imagined,
and finely executed.
I found upon the bulk of a _portable shop_ in _Paris_, a most excellent
engraving from this picture,[I] and which carried me directly to visit
the original; it is indeed stained and dirty, but it is infinitely
superior to a later engraving which now hangs up in all the print shops,
and I suppose is from the first plate, which was done soon after the
picture was finished. Under it are written the following ingenious, tho'
I fear, rather impious lines:
Magdala dam gemmas, baccisque monile coruscum
Projicit, ac formæ detrahit arma suæ:
Dum vultum lacrymis et lumina turbat; amoris
Mirare insidias! hac capit arte Deum.
[I] In the possession of Mr. GAINSBOROUGH.
Shall I attempt to unfold this writer's meaning? Yes, I will, that my
friend at _Oxford_ may laugh, and do it as it ought to be done.