The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman Part 49

Chapter 3.XCVIII.

-'So hating, I say, to make mysteries of nothing'-I intrusted it with the post-boy, as soon as ever I got off the stones; he gave a crack with his whip to balance the compliment; and with the thill-horse trotting, and a sort of an up and a down of the other, we danced it along to Ailly au clochers, famed in days of yore for the finest chimes in the world; but we danced through it without music-the chimes being greatly out of order-(as in truth they were through all France).

And so making all possible speed, from

Ailly au clochers, I got to Hixcourt, from Hixcourt I got to Pequignay, and from Pequignay, I got to Amiens, concerning which town I have nothing to inform you, but what I have informed you once before-and that was-that Janatone went there to school.

Chapter 3.XCIX.

In the whole catalogue of those whiffling vexations which come puffing across a man's canva.s.s, there is not one of a more teasing and tormenting nature, than this particular one which I am going to describe-and for which (unless you travel with an avance-courier, which numbers do in order to prevent it)-there is no help: and it is this.

That be you in never so kindly a propensity to sleep-though you are pa.s.sing perhaps through the finest country-upon the best roads, and in the easiest carriage for doing it in the world-nay, was you sure you could sleep fifty miles straight forwards, without once opening your eyes-nay, what is more, was you as demonstratively satisfied as you can be of any truth in Euclid, that you should upon all accounts be full as well asleep as awake-nay, perhaps better-Yet the incessant returns of paying for the horses at every stage,-with the necessity thereupon of putting your hand into your pocket, and counting out from thence three livres fifteen sous (sous by sous), puts an end to so much of the project, that you cannot execute above six miles of it (or supposing it is a post and a half, that is but nine)-were it to save your soul from destruction.

-I'll be even with 'em, quoth I, for I'll put the precise sum into a piece of paper, and hold it ready in my hand all the way: 'Now I shall have nothing to do,' said I (composing myself to rest), 'but to drop this gently into the post-boy's hat, and not say a word.'-Then there wants two sous more to drink-or there is a twelve sous piece of Louis XIV. which will not pa.s.s-or a livre and some odd liards to be brought over from the last stage, which Monsieur had forgot; which altercations (as a man cannot dispute very well asleep) rouse him: still is sweet sleep retrievable; and still might the flesh weigh down the spirit, and recover itself of these blows-but then, by heaven! you have paid but for a single post-whereas 'tis a post and a half; and this obliges you to pull out your book of post-roads, the print of which is so very small, it forces you to open your eyes, whether you will or no: Then Monsieur le Cure offers you a pinch of snuff-or a poor soldier shews you his leg-or a shaveling his box-or the priestesse of the cistern will water your wheels-they do not want it-but she swears by her priesthood (throwing it back) that they do:-then you have all these points to argue, or consider over in your mind; in doing of which, the rational powers get so thoroughly awakened-you may get 'em to sleep again as you can.

It was entirely owing to one of these misfortunes, or I had pa.s.s'd clean by the stables of Chantilly-

-But the postillion first affirming, and then persisting in it to my face, that there was no mark upon the two sous piece, I open'd my eyes to be convinced-and seeing the mark upon it as plain as my nose-I leap'd out of the chaise in a pa.s.sion, and so saw every thing at Chantilly in spite.-I tried it but for three posts and a half, but believe 'tis the best principle in the world to travel speedily upon; for as few objects look very inviting in that mood-you have little or nothing to stop you; by which means it was that I pa.s.sed through St. Dennis, without turning my head so much as on one side towards the Abby-

-Richness of their treasury! stuff and nonsense!-bating their jewels, which are all false, I would not give three sous for any one thing in it, but Jaidas's lantern-nor for that either, only as it grows dark, it might be of use.

Chapter 3.C.

Crack, crack-crack, crack-crack, crack-so this is Paris! quoth I (continuing in the same mood)-and this is Paris!-humph!-Paris! cried I, repeating the name the third time-

The first, the finest, the most brilliant-

The streets however are nasty.

But it looks, I suppose, better than it smells-crack, crack-crack, crack-what a fuss thou makest!-as if it concerned the good people to be informed, that a man with pale face and clad in black, had the honour to be driven into Paris at nine o'clock at night, by a postillion in a tawny yellow jerkin, turned up with red calamanco-crack, crack-crack, crack-crack, crack,-I wish thy whip-

-But 'tis the spirit of thy nation; so crack-crack on.

Ha!-and no one gives the wall!-but in the School of Urbanity herself, if the walls are besh..t-how can you do otherwise?

And prithee when do they light the lamps? What?-never in the summer months!-Ho! 'tis the time of sallads.-O rare! sallad and soup-soup and sallad-sallad and soup, encore-

-'Tis too much for sinners.

Now I cannot bear the barbarity of it; how can that unconscionable coachman talk so much bawdy to that lean horse? don't you see, friend, the streets are so villanously narrow, that there is not room in all Paris to turn a wheelbarrow? In the grandest city of the whole world, it would not have been amiss, if they had been left a thought wider; nay, were it only so much in every single street, as that a man might know (was it only for satisfaction) on which side of it he was walking.

One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten.-Ten cooks shops! and twice the number of barbers! and all within three minutes driving! one would think that all the cooks in the world, on some great merry-meeting with the barbers, by joint consent had said-Come, let us all go live at Paris: the French love good eating-they are all gourmands-we shall rank high; if their G.o.d is their belly-their cooks must be gentlemen: and forasmuch as the periwig maketh the man, and the periwig-maker maketh the periwig-ergo, would the barbers say, we shall rank higher still-we shall be above you all-we shall be Capitouls (Chief Magistrate in Toulouse, &c. &c. &c.) at least-pardi! we shall all wear swords-

-And so, one would swear, (that is, by candle-light,-but there is no depending upon it,) they continued to do, to this day.

Chapter 3.CI.

The French are certainly misunderstood:-but whether the fault is theirs, in not sufficiently explaining themselves; or speaking with that exact limitation and precision which one would expect on a point of such importance, and which, moreover, is so likely to be contested by us-or whether the fault may not be altogether on our side, in not understanding their language always so critically as to know 'what they would be at'-I shall not decide; but 'tis evident to me, when they affirm, 'That they who have seen Paris, have seen every thing,' they must mean to speak of those who have seen it by day-light.

As for candle-light-I give it up-I have said before, there was no depending upon it-and I repeat it again; but not because the lights and shades are too sharp-or the tints confounded-or that there is neither beauty or keeping, &c....for that's not truth-but it is an uncertain light in this respect, That in all the five hundred grand Hotels, which they number up to you in Paris-and the five hundred good things, at a modest computation (for 'tis only allowing one good thing to a Hotel), which by candle-light are best to be seen, felt, heard, and understood (which, by the bye, is a quotation from Lilly)-the devil a one of us out of fifty, can get our heads fairly thrust in amongst them.

This is no part of the French computation: 'tis simply this,

That by the last survey taken in the year one thousand seven hundred and sixteen, since which time there have been considerable augmentations, Paris doth contain nine hundred streets; (viz)

In the quarter called the City-there are fifty-three streets.

In St. James of the Shambles, fifty-five streets.

In St. Oportune, thirty-four streets.

In the quarter of the Louvre, twenty-five streets.

In the Palace Royal, or St. Honorius, forty-nine streets.

In Mont. Martyr, forty-one streets.

In St. Eustace, twenty-nine streets.

In the Halles, twenty-seven streets.

In St. Dennis, fifty-five streets.

In St. Martin, fifty-four streets.

In St. Paul, or the Mortellerie, twenty-seven streets.

The Greve, thirty-eight streets.

In St. Avoy, or the Verrerie, nineteen streets.

In the Marais, or the Temple, fifty-two streets.

In St. Antony's, sixty-eight streets.

In the Place Maubert, eighty-one streets.

In St. Bennet, sixty streets.

In St. Andrews de Arcs, fifty-one streets.

In the quarter of the Luxembourg, sixty-two streets.

And in that of St. Germain, fifty-five streets, into any of which you may walk; and that when you have seen them with all that belongs to them, fairly by day-light-their gates, their bridges, their squares, their statues...and have crusaded it moreover, through all their parish-churches, by no means omitting St. Roche and Sulpice...and to crown all, have taken a walk to the four palaces, which you may see, either with or without the statues and pictures, just as you chuse-

-Then you will have seen-

-but 'tis what no one needeth to tell you, for you will read of it yourself upon the portico of the Louvre, in these words,

Earth No Such Folks!-No Folks E'er Such A Town As Paris Is!-Sing, Derry, Derry, Down.

(Non orbis gentem, non urbem gens habet ullam -ulla parem.) The French have a gay way of treating every thing that is Great; and that is all can be said upon it.