LETTER XXXIX.
_SIR_, _Paris, April 1, 1732._
Don't imagine, that I am going to give you an exact Description of the City of PARIS; for that would be an Undertaking to as little Purpose, as it is beyond my Ability. PARIS has been so fully describ'd, and is so much talk'd of, that most People know what Sort of Place it is, though they have never seen it. Several Authors are so divided about the Antiquity of PARIS, that I can say nothing positive to you upon this Head. _Cæsar_, in his Commentaries, speaks very much in its Favour, and says, that in his Time, this City was call'd _Lutetia_. The Learned differ also about the Origin of this[41]Name; but I shall leave them to dispute this Matter as long as they please, and assure them, that I am not concerned in their Quarrel.
According to Father _Daniel_, PARIS was the Capital City of _France_, in the Reign of _Clovis_, about the Year 507. But even then, PARIS was a Place of very little Consequence; and, if it be duly consider'd, could not be rank'd among the great Towns, before the Reign of _Philip Augustus_; That Prince made it his Endeavour to embellish it, and added Buildings to it, which at that Time were reckon'd very magnificent. Since his Reign, PARIS has always been the Seat of the Kings, and has been continually increasing in Grandeur and Beauty. But none of its Kings has contributed so much to the Magnificence of PARIS, as the Prince who least resided in it, I mean _Lewis_ XIV. who caus'd such Structures to be rais'd in it, as are worthy of the greatest Monarch in the World. Of some of these Works, I may hereafter give you a more particular Account.
The _French_ pretend, that no City in _Europe_ contains so many Inhabitants as PARIS; but the _English_ say, the most populous is _London_; yet, without the least Hesitation, I determine it for the latter of the two Rivals. My Reason for it is this: At PARIS, eighteen or twenty thousand People die every Year, and at _London_ twenty-three or twenty-four thousand; tho' I don't dispute, but PARIS seems more populous: For in the latter, every body is to be seen in the Streets, either on Foot or in Coaches; whereas at _London_, Passengers are continually going up and down the _Thames_; which River is seldom without carrying forty or fifty thousand People, who, if diffus'd in the Streets, would make them look fuller of People than those of PARIS. Besides, what makes the Capital of _France_ appear to be more populous, is, that it has more Coaches and Carts; whereas at _London_, one always sees Goods going up or down the River; which is the Reason, that Carts are not so much in Use there: And most of the Ladies, instead of Coaches, ride in Sedans. But a _Frenchman_ will tell me, you shall see five or six Families in one House at PARIS; whereas at _London_, they are seldom two. To this I shall answer, that 'tis true, there are more Lodgers in the Houses of PARIS; but this stands for nothing, and only proves, that there are more Houses at _London_. At PARIS, there are many Hôtels, or great Houses, Convents, large Gardens, public Squares, Quays, and a River that runs through the Middle; all which takes up a great deal of Ground; and in several of the Suburbs, without which PARIS itself is but a little Place, there are intire Marshes. But at _London_,'tis quite otherwise, such Hôtels are uncommon there, and few Houses there have Courts to them. They are all very much pent up, and many a House at _London_ is not so big as the Halls in a great many of the Hôtels at PARIS.
But what matters it, whether _London_ is bigger or less than PARIS? I shall now speak of the latter, not as the biggest, but as the most beautiful City in _Europe_. 'Tis reckon'd, there are in PARIS nine hundred Streets, with above twenty thousand Houses, of which four thousand have great Gates, and Courts to turn Coaches in. The Number of Inhabitants amounts to above eighty thousand; in which must be reckon'd one hundred and fifty thousand Domestics. There are at least twenty thousand Coaches, and near one hundred and twenty thousand Horses for Carriages of all Sorts, of which, one Year with another, ten thousand die. In fine, the very Expence of the Lanthorns, which are lighted nine Months in the Year, is computed at two hundred thousand Crowns at least. The common Revenues which the City of PARIS produces, are said to amount at least to twenty-eight Millions of Livres; a Sum, which, I believe, is not rais'd by some Kingdoms.
PARIS enjoys all the Prerogatives that can be enjoy'd by the Capital of a powerful Kingdom. This City has not only the Reputation of being the Residence of Kings, but is the Seat of an Archbishop, a Parliament, an University, an Intendant, a Governor, and of all the Sovereign Courts in the Government. Its Metropolitan Church, which was heretofore no more than the See of a Bishop, Suffragan to the Archbishop of _Sens_, is dedicated to the Virgin _Mary_. St. _Denys_, who liv'd in the first Ages of Christianity, is own'd to be its Founder, or at least its first Bishop. Its first Archbishop was _Francis de Gondy_, who obtain'd that Dignity by a Bull of Pope _Gregory_ XV. in 1622. since which Time there have been seven Archbishops. Whoever is the Archbishop, has the Title of Duke of St. _Cloud_, and in that Quality is both Duke and Peer of _France_. The present Archbishop's Name is _N. N. de Vintimille_ of the Counts _du Luc_. He succeeded _Lewis-Antony_, Cardinal _de Noailles_, and finds his Diocese as disobedient to his Mandates, as it was to those of his Predecessor. The good Prelate does all he can, to bring back his[42]stray'd Sheep; but it seems as if most of the _Parisians_ know not what they would be at; and indeed the greatest Number dispute about Matters, which they don't understand. I find the Talk of all PARIS engross'd by two grand Subjects; I mean grand for the _Parisians_, and, if I may venture to say it, for the _French_ in general: For, to be plain, 'tis owing to the Want of something else to talk of during a long Peace, that they busy themselves very seriously about Things, which at other Times they would think unworthy of their Attention. The one is the Affair of Father _Girard_ and _la Cadiere_; the other, the pretended Miracles of the Abbé _Paris_. There is nothing so base, with which Knavery and a furious Zeal can inspire a Party, but what has been said and written on these Subjects. The Enemies of the _Jesuits_ have[43]invented, that Father _John Baptist Girard_, a Native of _Dole_ in _Franche Comté_, debauch'd one _la Cadiere_, who came to him for Confession; they prevail'd on the young Woman to accuse him of Crimes, the very Idea of which is shocking, and which the most resolute Villain would not dare perhaps to be guilty of, much less Father _Girard_; who, till accus'd of this Wickedness, had always _pass'd_ for an honest Man, whose Conduct and Morals had been edifying in Places where he had been, and particularly at _Toulon_, where nevertheless he is said to have committed the most horrid Enormities. But _la Cadiere_ has recanted; and the Parlement of _Aix_, before whom the Cause was pleaded, has declar'd Father _Girard_ innocent. Yet the _Jansenists_ exclaim, and wish that the King would cause the Members of that Parlement to be hang'd up, because they could not in Conscience bring in Father _Girard_ guilty.
The following _Epigram_ is lately publish'd upon that Parlement:
_Pour avoir immolé le Fils du Tout-Puissant +Pilate+ moins que vous nous parut detestable; Il ne reçût point d'or pour punir l'Innocent, Mais vous en recevez pour sauver le coupable._
_i. e._
_Pilate_, tho' he sacrific'd the Son of the Almighty, is even less detestable in our Eyes than you; for he receiv'd no Gold to punish the Innocent, but you take it to save the Guilty.
Or thus:
_Of Judges that in Judgment sit, Whether incurs most Banns, He that for Gold doth Vice acquit, Or Virtue +gratis+ damns?_
_+Pilate+, who sacrific'd the Son Of the Almighty Lord, Because no Golden Bribe he won, Is less than you abhorr'd._
Father _Girard_'s Adventure calls to my Mind a great Scandal of this Nature, that happen'd in the fourth Century, on Occasion of a Lady's Confession to a Deacon; which obliged the Patriarch _Nectarius_ to abolish Auricular Confession throughout the _East_; as may be seen in the fourth Tome of _Fleuri_'s _Ecclesiastical History_. This Author, in his Sixteenth Tome, says, that in the twelfth Century there were Abbesses in _Spain_, who preach'd, gave Blessings, and confessed Persons of both Sexes. If this Practice was re-establish'd, there would be no Room to fear such Disorders and Scandals as have happen'd in _Provence_.
The second Topic, which takes up a great deal of the _Parisians_ Conversation, is the pretended Miracles of the Sieur _Paris_, to whose Tomb People flock as much as they could be suppos'd to do to the _Holy Sepulchre_ itself. Curiosity drew me thither as well as others; and I found such a vast Crowd of People, that 'twas with much ado I could get to the Stone which covers the Saint of the Populace. While I was looking at this Tombstone, I heard 'em cry behind, _Stand by, make Room there_; so that I thought some Prince of the Blood was coming; but 'twas no more than a mean-looking Fellow, who, with a very contrite Air, went and stretch'd himself on the Tomb; where he had not lain many Moments, but I saw him turn up the Whites of his Eyes, grind his Teeth, foam at the Mouth, and twist his Body into such Postures, that he look'd more like one that had the Devil in him, than the Favourite of a Saint. These Agitations lasted as long as the Man had any Strength; after which he was carry'd off, and I assure you, that when he was taken from the Tomb, he had a much more sickly Look than when he came to it. Nevertheless the People bawl'd out, _A Miracle!_ and I even heard it said, _Who can doubt one Moment, after so manifest a Cure as this, that +Paris+ is a Saint!_
Such Miracles, as this that I have now related to you, are work'd here every Day: One can't set a Foot into a House, without being entertain'd with some new Story plac'd to the Accompt of the Abbé _Paris_; yet I protest, that not one single Miracle has been prov'd: and M. _Herault_, the Lieutenant-General of the Police, to whom all these Miracles are reported, said, in my Hearing, that there was not one of them true; that 'twas a palpable Delusion; and that 'twas only tolerated, the better to trace it up to its Source, and to undeceive the Populace; which, I believe, will be no easy Matter, they are so much prepossess'd in Favour of their Saint. The only Way would be for the Pope to canonise the Sieur _Paris_, and then I am persuaded, that all the Devotees of this new Saint wou'd abandon him, rather than be in the Holy Father's Mess. But here I leave both Father _Girard_ and the Abbé _Paris_, though perhaps I shall find an Opportunity of discovering all that I may hear of them to you, when I think it worthy of your Regard; but I shall be far from troubling you with every impertinent Tale that is reread about them; for I verily believe, that all the Songs and Verses that are made upon them wou'd form several Volumes: And it must be expected this Humour will last, till something new starts up to drown both these Subjects of present Conversation. I own to you, that I am very much in Pain to think what the _French_ can have to amuse them after this is over; for their Genius is such, that it must have something to work upon, tho' 'tis happy for them that a mere Nothing suffices, and that such Nothing is always treated by them as a serious Affair, and proves to them an inexhaustible Fund of Something.
You ask me, how I employ my Time here? which is a Question that is not very soon answer'd. My Amusements are of such various Kinds, that, to be plain with you, I find myself at a loss to account for them. I should often be very much puzzled to prove an _alibi_ of two Days. This Country is my Centre, and PARIS is to me the Spring of Youth. Never was any Reflection more mortifying to me, than the Thought that I am not in a Condition to fix my Habitation here; for tho' I find Faults in the _French_, as well as in all other Nations, yet I acknowledge they have a thousand good Qualities; and I think them much more amiable at home than they are abroad, where, be a Man ever so much prepossess'd in their Favour upon other Accounts, he is surfeited with their eternal Criticisms, and to hear them incessantly remarking, _They don't do so at +Paris+. You don't see this in +France+_. Here they are polite, good-natur'd, humane, civil and engaging; and a Foreigner, who can bring himself ever so little into their Way of Thinking, Acting, and Speaking, will always be sorry to leave them.
But I am not about giving you the Character of the _French_; what I am now to acquaint you with is, how I live with them. In a very irregular Course of Life, I aim at a certain Regularity: I rise very late, because I don't go to Bed till Two or Three o'Clock in the Morning: When I am dress'd, I go to some Cabinet of Curiosities, some Library, or to some Structure or other, which, tho' I have seen perhaps an hundred times, I revisit with Pleasure, because I always find some new Beauty in it. Such are the Hôtel or Hospital of the _Invalids_, founded and built by _Lewis_ XIV. _Val de Grace_, the Church which is the Repositary of the Hearts and Bowels of the Kings and Princes of the Royal Family, and was founded by _Anne_ of _Austria_, Mother to _Lewis_ XIV. the Choir of _Notre Dame_, adorn'd with Marble and Brass by _Lewis_ XIV. to fulfill a Vow made by King _Lewis_ XIII. his Father; the _Louvre_, with all the Beauties it contains; and, in fine, a Number of other stately Fabrics, which I don't mention or describe to you, because a thousand Authors have already given a better Account of them, than I am able to do. After having thus saunter'd away two or three Hours, I return home to Dinner; for I rarely dine abroad: When I have din'd, if I am alone, I read for an Hour or two; after which I go out, either to make Visits, or else to take the Air. I often go to their Plays, not only because I have a Taste that way, but to avoid Gaming; for you can't go into a House, but they bring out the Cards. After the Comedy is over, which I am forc'd, whether I will or not, to prefer to the Opera, I go to some House, where there's no saying nay, but I must make one at Quadrille, to ease me of my Money; for I know not what 'tis to win. I am entertain'd with a good Supper, and then I join in a second Party at Quadrille, and sometimes in a third; and go home at three o'Clock in the Morning, with an empty Pocket.
This Itch for Gaming, which has infected the Generality of the _French_, is look'd upon as one of the Plagues of the Nation. I can't imagine how 'tis possible for People, who can scarce stay a Quarter of an Hour in one Place, but are generally restless where-ever they are, to sit five or six Hours together in cutting and shuffling the Cards. 'Tis however a necessary Evil, especially for a Foreigner, who must otherwise make a very silly Figure, till he is quite initiated in the Customs of the Country. The Ladies say of a Man who does not play, that he is a useless Piece of Lumber; and the most flaming Lovers cease to make Love, as soon as Cards are brought upon the Carpet.
There are some Houses however, where this Passion for Gaming is not quite so prevalent; 'tis said too, that the Lawyers Houses are not so liable to the Contagion; but I own, I am not conversant enough with them to know the Difference. 'Tis certain, that at Court they play deeper than any-where, and very many of the Nobility have impair'd their Fortunes, for the sake of having the Honour to be one of a Party with the King. His Majesty commonly plays at Lansquenet; the Party consists of twelve Cutters, who set a _Lewis d'Or_ upon the Card. The King, and the principal Gamesters, as the Count _de Tholouse_, the Duke _d'Antin_, the Duke _de Grammont_, and the like, set two, and sometimes four _Lewis d'Ors_ upon a Stake. The King is reckon'd to have the best Luck of all that play in the Queen's Apartment: Any body that is well dress'd is admitted to make one of the Company, which forms a great Court, tho' a mix'd Assembly. All the Ladies sit round the Gaming-table, and the Men stand. The _French_ say, that Gaming sets every body upon a Level. There's one _S. Remi_, who had been a Lacquey first to the Marshal _d'Estrée_'s Lady, and then to the Duke of _Bourbon_, who preferr'd him to be his _Valet de Chambre_, and at the Queen's Arrival gave him a Post in her Majesty's Houshold, which he held at the same time that he officiated as the Duke's _Valet de Chambre_: I have seen this Man raise or fall the Mirth of the King's Company at Pleasure; 'tis true, he does not cut; but he is at every Card, and makes very good Pastime. At _Fontainebleau_, I heard him one Day bet the King twenty _Lewis d'Ors_, upon his own Card against his Majesty's. The King answer'd coolly, _No, Marquis_; which is a Nickname that his Majefty has given him, and may nevertheless be transmitted to the Posterity of this _S. Remi_, who is moreover Fop enough to be a Marquis.
This Medley of People at Play has been the Custom in _France_ at all times. I remember to have heard the late Mother of the Regent say, That when she went upon a time from _Versailles_, where she resided with the King, to see her Husband, _Lewis_ XIV's Brother, who was gone to spend a few Days at St. _Cloud_, she found him playing at Lansquenet with a dozen Cutters, of whom she knew but two; and when the Game was out, she ask'd her Husband, who the People were that he had been playing with: _They are very honest Fellows_, reply'd the Prince, _good substantial Tradesmen of +Paris+, who play well, and for a great deal of Money_. The old Lady gave us moreover to understand, that she had not been at that time long in _France_, and that she was so vex'd to find her Husband in such Company, that she cou'd not forbear to upbraid him for it; but her Husband turn'd it all off with a Laugh, and made her Answer, _That she had still a Spice of the +German+ Haughtiness, but that it would wear off in Time_.
'Tis certain however, that this Liberty, with which all Sorts of People are indulg'd, of coming in for a Game and away, renders them fawcy. That noted Comedian _Baron_, the greatest Coxcomb of all Men living before the _Quinaults_, was one Day at the House of the Prince _de Conti_, the same that had been chose King of _Poland_, where they were playing at Lansquenet. _Baron_, pulling his Purse out with a careless Air, said to the Prince, _Ten Lewis D'Ors upon the Knave, +M. de Conti+. Done, +Britannicus+_, said the Prince _de Conti_, who knew that _Baron_ had been just acting that Part in a Play. It is certain, that at many of the Womens Houses, the Gamesters are as much pamper'd as a Father Confessor is by his Female Votary. A greet many Houses subsist here by the Emoluments of Gaming, where, were it not for the Money arising from their Cards, their Suppers would be very light, and many that now ride wou'd go on Foot. The Duke _de Gevres_, Governor of _Paris_, and the Prince _de Carignan_, who have a Grant for licensing all manner of Gaming, have farm'd it out, and get 120,000 Livres a-piece by it clear Money; which one shall hardly find in any City in the World.
This Gaming puts me in mind of a Lottery they have here every Month, which is a Sort of Game too, where the Banker is the greatest Gainer. These Lotteries have been set on foot by the Parson of the Parish of St. _Sulpice_, to help build his Church, and twenty Sols is the Price of each Ticket; but they prove the utter Undoing of many a Lacquey and Maid-Servant; which made a Friend of mine say, that the Parson of St. _Sulpice_, out of Gratitude to the poor Devils, for burying their Wages in his Lottery, could do no less, when they die, than bury their Carcases for nothing. This Lottery is worth to the Parson about 20,000 Livres a Month, besides the Sums he gets from the pious Contributions of several Persons zealous for the House of God: Nevertheless these Works go on so slowly, that the Parson's Trowel is not like to be laid aside yet-a-while, tho', if his Church be ever finished, 'twill be the greatest and the finest in the Kingdom; for all the new Works are design'd by _Giles Maria Oppenord_, the Duke of _Orleans_'s chief Architect, and one of the most skilful of his Profession in _France_.
The Parsonage of St. _Sulpice_ is the most considerable, not only of _Paris_, but perhaps of _Europe_; for it brings in the Parson as much as some good Dioceses do their Bishops. The Right of Presentation to it is in the Abbat and Friers of the Abbey of St. _Germain_. The present Incumbent is M. _Languet de Gergy_, who has one Brother that is Bishop of _Soissons_[44], and another now an Ambassador at _Venice_[45]. The Vigilance both of the Pastor, and of the Priests whom he employs for administring the Sacraments, cannot but be commended: The latter form a numerous Society, attend their Function with Application, and Divine Service is perform'd in the Church with very great Edification. The Society, and several Seminaries join'd to it, form together the most numerous Body of Clergy in all the Kingdom. The Seminary of St. _Sulpice_ is one of the most frequented, because the Ecclesiastical Discipline is there taught and practis'd with Care; perhaps too, because Subjects are often taken from thence for the chief Dignities of the Church. Nothing is more edifying than to see the Procession of this Parish upon the Day of _Corpus Christi_, when there's a numerous Appearance of the Clergy in magnificent Copes: The Canopy, under which the Holy Sacrament is carry'd, is extraordinary rich. Twenty-four young Clergymen go before the Holy Sacrament, and twelve always walk backward, perfuming the Host, as they go, with Censers of Silver. There is not a Procession in the Kingdom that is made with more Dignity and Order[46]. With your Favour, I will conclude this Letter with the bare Mention of this Sacred Ceremony. As I propose to go to-morrow to _Versailles_, I shall send you what Observations I make there. I am, _&c._