Paris.
When B—— and I went to the playhouse, as was mentioned in my last, we
found a prodigious crowd of people before the door: We could not get
a place till after a considerable struggle. The play was the Siege of
Calais, founded on a popular story, which must needs be interesting and
flattering to the French nation.
You cannot conceive what pressing and crowding there is every night to
see this favourite piece, which has had the same success at Versailles as
at Paris.
There are some few critics, however, who assert that it is entirely
devoid of merit and owes its run to the popular nature of the subject,
more than to any intrinsic beauty in the verses, which some declare are
not even good French.
When it was last acted before the King, it is said, his Majesty,
observing that the Duc d’Ayen did not join in applauding, but that he
rather shewed some marks of disgust, turned to the Duke and said, Vous
n’applaudissez pas? Vous n’étes pas bon François, Monsieur le Duc:—To
this the Duke replied,—à Dieu ne plaise que je ne fusse pas meilleur que
les vers de la piéce.
Obedient to the court in every other particular, the French disregard the
decisions pronounced at Versailles in matters of taste. It very often
happens that a dramatic piece, which has been acted before the royal
family and the court, with the highest applause, is afterwards damned
with every circumstance of ignominy at Paris. In all works of genius
the Parisians lead the judgment of the courtiers, and dictate to their
monarch.
In other countries of Europe, it has happened, that some Prince of
superior talents has, by the brightness of his own genius, enlightened
the minds of his subjects, and dispelled the clouds of barbarism from his
dominions.
Since the commencement of this century a great empire has been improved
from a state of gross ignorance, refined by the arts of peace, and
instructed in the arts of war, by the vast genius and industry of one of
its Princes, who laid the foundation of its present power and grandeur.
Another inconsiderable state, with fewer resources, has, at a later
period, been created a powerful monarchy, by the astonishing efforts,
perseverance, and magnanimity of its present king; whose love of
knowledge and the arts has drawn some of the greatest geniuses in Europe
to his capital; whence science and taste must gradually flow through his
whole dominions, where they were formerly but little cherished.
In these instances, and others which might be enumerated, the princes
have been superior in genius to any of their subjects. The throne has
been the source whence knowledge and refinement have flowed to the
extremities of the nation.
But this has never been the case in France, where it is not the king who
polishes the people;—but the people who refine the manners, humanize the
heart, and, if it be not perfectly opaque, enlighten the understanding of
the king.
Telemaque, and many other works, have been composed with this intention.
In many addresses and remonstrances to the throne, excellent precepts
and hints are insinuated in an indirect and delicate manner.
By the emphatic applause they bestow on particular passages of the pieces
represented at the theatre, they convey to the monarch the sentiments of
the nation respecting the measures of his government.
By ascribing qualities to him which he does not possess, they endeavour
to excite within his breast a desire to attain them: they try to cajole
him into virtue. Considered in this point of view, the design of the
equestrian statue which the city of Paris has erected in honour of Lewis
XV. may have been suggested from a more generous motive than flattery,
to which it is generally imputed. This was begun by Bouchardon; who died
when the work was well advanced, and has since been committed to Pigal
to be finished.
The horse is placed on a very high pedestal. At the angles, are four
figures, standing in the manner of Caryatides, who represent the four
virtues, Fortitude, Justice, Prudence, and the love of Peace. All the
ornaments are of Bronze.
The two small sides of the pedestal are ornamented with gilded laurels
and inscriptions. On the front, towards the Thuilleries, is the following:
LUDOVICO XV.
OPTIMO PRINCIPI
QUOD
AD SCALDUM, MOSAM, RHENUM,
VICTOR
PACEM ARMIS
PACE
SUORUM ET EUROPÆ
FELICITATEM
QUÆSIVIT.
The large sides of the pedestal are adorned with trophies and has
reliefs. One represents Lewis giving peace to Europe; the other
represents him in a triumphal chariot, crowned by Victory, and conducted
by Renown to a people who submit.
When we recollect that the inscription and emblems allude to the
conclusion of the war before the last, and what kind of inscriptions
are usually put under the statues of kings, we shall not find any thing
outrageously flattering in the above; the moral of which is, that the
love of peace is one of the greatest virtues a king can possess—The best
moral that can be insinuated into the breast of a monarch.
In this work the horse is infinitely more admired, by sculptors and
satirists, than the king. But the greatest oversight is, that the whole
group, though all the figures are larger than life, have a diminutive
appearance in the centre of the vast area in which they are placed.
The wits of Paris could not allow such an opportunity of indulging their
vein to escape unimproved. Many epigrams are handed about.—Here are two:
Bouchardon est un animal,
Et son ouvrage fait pitié;
Il place les vices à cheval,
Et met les vertus à pied.
Voilà notre Roi comme il est à Versailles,
Sans foi, sans loi, et sans entrailles.
Both are too severe; giving the idea of wicked dispositions, and cruelty
of temper, which do not belong to Lewis the Fifteenth; whose real
character, in three words, is that of a good-natured, easy-tempered man,
sunk in sloth and sensuality.
I have seen another inscription for the statue handed about; it is in
Latin, and very short.