the Freedom with which the Author makes the Romans think and speak. Mean time, the French are not of our Opinion. The Respect due to Royalty, say they, is not well preserv’d in it. They censure the Author for presuming to confine the Royal Authority within the Bounds of Justice. M. de Voltaire, say they, never could imbibe these Sentiments in France. ’Tis very plain that he contracted them beyond Sea. They may be relish’d well enough by the English; but to us they are intolerable: And if M. de Voltaire goes on to write in this Manner, he may, perhaps, have an Apartment in the Bastile. I confess that terrible Name dumb-founder’d me, and I did not dare to say a Word in the Author’s Vindication, for fear of being deem’d his Accomplice. The Bastile and the Holy Office are two Terms which always silenc’d me, even when I have had the strongest Inclination to speak my Mind.
As for the Comedians, they perform’d Wonders. One du Frêne actually out-did himself. He is Brother to Quinaut, an excellent Comedian in the Parts which require Humour, but excessively out-of-the-Way in Tragedy; and take him off the Theatre, impertinent beyond Expression, as is also his Brother, tho’ they are both Men of Wit.
The Players are much more respected here than they are elsewhere, which makes them insolent to the last Degree. The Nobility are fond of their Company, and admit them to their Parties of Pleasure: And as they are Kings upon the Stage, and Equals and Companions at Table with the best Lords in the Kingdom, no wonder that it turns their Brains. But that which must needs render them arrogant beyond Measure, is a late Instance of Regard paid them by the French Academy, who, by a Letter, invited the Performers in the French Comedy, to hear an Oration made in
their Academy; which the Comedians took for such an Honour, that the very next Day they offer’d the Members of the Academy Admission to their Comedy Gratis; which the Academicians made no Scruple to accept, to the great Amazement of the whole City of Paris, which blames the Members for it not a little: The Fault is laid at the Door of certain Authors, who are in League with the Comedians, and gave the Invitation without consulting the rest of the Members, of whom several that had, no Hand in the Transaction, protested against the Conduct of those who had, the Consequence of which was a Quarrel in the Academy. Indeed, one would imagine by that Day’s Work, that they did not really consider what they were doing; and the Noblemen who are Members of the Academy, cry out against it very much. ’Tis true, that the Comedians who presume to offer Admission Gratis to a Marshal de Villars, a Marshal d’Estrées, or other Noblemen of that Rank, are not mean Fellows, and deserve the Appellation of the Company of Comedians, instead of Troop; in order to distinguish them from the Strollers in the[74] Country. Why then should not they be honour’d? The Actors in the Opera, who, as well as they, divert the Public for Lucre, have, indeed, the Privilege, that a Gentleman may be admitted among them without Disparagement to his Title. This is a Favour, says a modern Author very justly, which had never yet been granted to those who perform in the public Spectacles, and who give Diversion for Money; because in
most of the Ages of Christianity, they had been look’d upon as Persons excommunicated and infamous, by reason of the Corruption in Morals, owing to their then too licentious Representations, which, perhaps, is no longer apprehended to be the Case at present. ’Tis certain, that if a Performer in an Opera may be noble, I can’t see why a Person mayn’t be the same in a Comedy; tho’ ’tis my Opinion, that if Stage-players may be Gentlemen, Rope-dancers and Tumblers have a Title to it; for, besides the Honour they have of diverting the Public, they run the Risk of breaking their Necks every Day; and is not that the Lot of the Nobility?
As I returned Yesterday with my Englishmen from Versailles, we went to St. Cloud, where we had the Honour to see the Duke de Chartres, the only Son of the Duke of Orleans. This Prince was in the Park, to see a young Officer of the Train of Artillery make Proofs of some Pieces of Ordnance. We were surpriz’d to see how attentively the young Prince observed every thing, and to hear him ask the Officer such Questions as were not to be expected from one of his Years. We had reason also to applaud the gracious and polite Reception which he gave us. To be plain, I was charm’d to see a Grandson of the late Madame, so worthy of herself, and of the illustrious Blood from which he is descended.
St. Cloud is a Palace belonging to the Duke of Orleans, first Prince of the Blood, and was built by Order of the late Monsieur Philip of France, (Brother of Lewis XIV.) who added very magnificent Gardens to it. ’Tis certain, that if the late King had chose St. Cloud for his Residence, instead of Versailles, he might have had a finer Building with less Expence. What is most admir’d at St. Cloud, are the Gallery and Salon,
both painted by Mignard, the Cascade, and the great Water-work, which throws up the Water a hundred Feet high, and which nothing exceeds of the Kind, but the Work that was made by the Direction of an[75]English Gentleman at Herenhausen, near Hanover, in the Reign of King George I.
St. Cloud has been fatal to several Princes of the Royal Family. Henry III. was assassinated there on the first of August 1589, at eight o’Clock in the Morning, by James Clement. Henrietta of England, first Wife to the late Philip of France, Duke of Orleans, only Brother to Lewis XIV. died there suddenly of a Colic, on the 30th of June 1670. She said that she was poison’d, for which Reason the King caus’d her Corpse to be open’d in Presence of the English Ambassador. ’Tis a difficult Matter, to judge whether that Princess’s Suspicions were true; for the Physicians and Surgeons found all her noble Parts corrupted, tho’ she was but twenty-six Years old. Her Husband paid his Tribute to Nature on a sudden, in the same Palace, on the 4th of June 1701.
What I have mentioned to you of the unhappy Catastrophe of the last of the Valois, puts me in Mind of a Passage in History, that Te Deum was forgot in the Ceremony of his Coronation; that the Crown fell from his Head; and that there was no Oil in the Sacred Phial, to perform the customary[76] Unction; which were then taken for ill Omens, and Time prov’d them but too true.