Paris.
We have been a month at Paris; a longer time than was intended at our
arrival: yet our departure appears to me at a greater distance now than
it did then.
F—— has been my most constant companion; he is universally liked, lives
in the very best company, and whoever is introduced by him is sure of a
favourable reception. I found little or no difficulty in excusing myself
from play. The Marquis undertook to make this matter easy; and nothing
can be a greater proof of his influence in some of the most fashionable
circles, than his being able to introduce a man without a title, and who
never games.
He is also intimately acquainted with some of the most eminent men of
letters, to whom he has made me known. Many of those, whose works you
admire, are received at the houses of the first nobility on the most
liberal footing.
You can scarcely believe the influence which this body of men have in the
gay and dissipated city of Paris. Their opinions not only determine the
merit of works of taste and science, but they have considerable weight on
the manners and sentiments of people of rank, of the public in general,
and consequently are not without effect on the measures of government.
The same thing takes place in some degree in most countries of Europe;
but, if I am not mistaken, more at Paris than any where else; because
men of letters are here at once united to each other by the various
academies, and diffused among private societies, by the manners and
general taste of the nation.
As the sentiments and conversation of men of letters influence, to a
certain degree, the opinions and the conduct of the fashionable world;
the manners of these last have a more obvious effect upon the air, the
behaviour, and the conversation of the former, which in general is polite
and easy; equally purified from the awkward timidity contracted in
retirement, and the disgusting arrogance inspired by university honours,
or church dignities. At Paris, the pedants of Moliere are to be seen on
the stage only.
In this country, at present, there are many men distinguished by their
learning, who at the same time are cheerful and easy in mixed company,
unpresuming in argument, and in every respect as well bred as those who
have no other pretension.
Politeness and good manners, indeed, may be traced, though in different
proportions, through every rank, from the greatest of the nobility to the
lowest mechanic. This forms a more remarkable and distinguishing feature
in the French national character, than the vivacity, impetuosity, and
fickleness, for which the ancient as well as the modern inhabitants of
this country have been noted.—It certainly is a very singular phænomenon,
that politeness, which in every other country is confined to people of a
certain rank in life, should here pervade every situation and profession.
The man in power is courteous to his dependant, the prosperous to the
unfortunate, the very beggar who solicits charity, does it ‘en homme
comme il faut;’ and if his request be not granted, he is sure, at least,
that it will be refused with an appearance of humanity, and not with
harshness or insult.
A stranger, quite new and unversed in their language, whose accent is
uncouth and ridiculous in the ears of the French, and who can scarcely
open his mouth without making a blunder in grammar or idiom, is heard
with the most serious attention, and never laughed at, even when he
utters the oddest solecism or equivocal expression.
I am afraid, said I, yesterday, to a French gentleman, the phrase which
I used just now is not French. Monsieur, replied he, cette expression
effectivement n’est pas Françoise, mais elle mérite bien de l’être.
The most daring deviation from fashion, in the important article of
dress, cannot make them forget the laws of good-breeding. When a person
appears at the public walks, in clothes made against every law of the
mode, upon which the French are supposed to lay such stress, they do
not gaze or sneer at him; they allow him first to pass, as it were,
unobserved, and do not till then turn round to indulge the curiosity
which his uncommon figure may have excited. I have remarked this instance
of delicacy often in the streets in the lowest of the vulgar, or rather
of the common people; for there are really very few of the natives of
Paris, who can be called vulgar.
There are exceptions to these, as to all general remarks on the manners
and character of any nation.
I have heard instances of the military treating postillions and
inn-keepers with injustice; and the seigneur or intendant oppressing the
peasant. Examples of the abuse of power, and insolence of office, are
to be met with every where. If they are tolerated, the fault lies in the
government.
I have not been speaking of the French government. Their national
character is one thing; the nature of their government is a very
different matter. But I am convinced there is no country in Europe where
royal favour, high birth, and the military profession, could be allowed
such privileges as they have in France, and where there would be so few
instances of their producing rough and brutal behaviour to inferiors.