A rough sketch of modern Paris

by J. G. Lemaistre

At twelve o’clock, the beverage I have mentioned, which the french think unwholesome at all times, and which even the english fear to take at so late an hour, was placed near the fire, on a large table, surrounded with cakes, creams, custards, a large tureen of soup, and a bowl of punch, the party crowded round the table, and helped themselves to the refreshments it contained. When the ceremony was over, those who did not return to the card tables, entered into conversation; and as literary subjects were still the favourite theme, a young man, with a pompous manner, and a solemn tone of voice, said, addressing himself to me, “Is it true, sir, that there are englishmen, so blinded by national prejudice, as to prefer votre bizarre Shakspeare[31], to our divine Racine?” Endeavouring to avoid a discussion, which I knew the answer I was inclined to give would create, I contented myself with observing, that Shakspeare and Racine were such different authors, that it was absurd to compare them. “As well,” said I, “might you draw a resemblance between the beauties of Switzerland, and those of Versailles.” “The proper simile,” retorted the first speaker, “would be between Versailles and a barren heath, on which some few beautiful plants may have been accidentally scattered, by the capricious hand of nature.” The whole circle joined in the triumph, which my antagonist supposed he had gained, and I in vain attempted to recapitulate, and to translate some of the striking passages of Shakespear. Though all condemned our “heaven-inspired poet,” I soon perceived, that few had ever read, and none understood the sublime work which they presumed to criticise.

“Speaking of english authors,” cried the member of the ci-devant académie française, “makes one think of english orators. I see, by Chateau-Brian’s account of England, that the cause of Mr. Fox’s retirement from parliament, has been at last discovered; and that it arose from his mental powers having been weakened by the effect of excessive drinking. To this I suppose one must attribute his late unwarrantable attack on the house of Bourbon.”

Astonished at this extraordinary assertion, I took the liberty of assuring the gentleman, that Mr. Fox’s talents were as perfect as ever, and that his last speech was one of the finest efforts of human reasoning. “Pardonnez,” cried the academician. “Mr. Fox could never reason. He was indeed once a fine declaimer, but as to the powers of argument, he never possessed them.” I was ridiculous enough to combat this absurd opinion, and to assure him, that there was not an englishman, (whatever his political sentiments might be) who would not willingly bear testimony to the wonderful argumentative talents of the extraordinary man in question.

I talked in vain, the whole company joined with the academician, who pour toute réponse[32], said, “C’est Mr. Pitt, qui sait raisonner, mais pour Mr. Fox il déclame joliment, voilà tout son talent. Vous me permetterez de savoir!” assuming a look of great dignity, “parceque c’est moi qui ai traduit ses discours.” So saying, he turned away, and soon after the company dispersed.

Can I give you a stronger instance of the taste and justice, with which the french pronounce on the merits of our authors, and public characters?

If Shakspeare is not a poet, nor Mr. Fox an orator, where are we to look for examples of perfection?

Thus it is on every subject in this country. The french suppose, that they understand english books, and english politics, much better than we do; and this is not the first lesson which I have received. I have often been contradicted on constitutional, as well as literary questions; and I have always found, that the company supported not the opinion of the native, whose local knowledge deserved some little credit, but the bold assertion of their countryman, who was generally believed and applauded, in proportion to the extravagance and singularity of the doctrine which he laid down.

I forgot to mention, that great offence being taken at Mr. Fox’s remarks on the old government, a gentleman took great pains to persuade me, that l’ancien régime was the freest constitution under the sun. You will not be surprised to hear, that he did not make me a convert to his opinion, and that I assured him, if such was a free government, I hoped it would be long, very long, before England should possess it.

This evening’s entertainment gave me altogether but a very unfavourable opinion, both of french society, french taste, and french gallantry. There was no mirth, no general conversation, and scarcely any intercourse between the men and women. As to Mrs. ⸺, she was left to the uninterrupted enjoyment of her own thoughts, for no person took the trouble of addressing her. Her english dress, however, did not escape the criticism of the ladies; and my pronunciation was equally a source of amusement to the gentlemen. I shall only add, that if this be a specimen of french society, I may obtain much information at Paris; yet I shall certainly receive but little pleasure from my journey.

I am, &c.