Some historians pretend, that the Saracens built the present walls, instead of those they had destroyed. But, if the hand of these plunderers is to be traced at all, it is only in the repairs, which are as destitute of neatness as of regularity. BARON DE TOTT.

SECT. VII.

OF THE MANNERS AND GENERAL CHARACTER OF THE FRENCH.

ONE can scarcely believe the influence which men of letters have in the gay and dissipated city of Paris. Their opinions not only determine the merit of works of taste and science, but they have considerable weight on the manners and sentiments of people of rank, of the public in general, and consequently are not without effect on the measures of govern

ment.

The same thing takes place, in some degrec, in most countries of Europe; but, if I am not mistaken, more at Paris than any where else; because men of letters are here at once united to each other by the various academies, and diffused among private societies, by the manners and general taste of the nation.

As the sentiments and conversation of men of letters influence, to a certain degree, the opinions and conduct of the fashionable world, the manners of these last have a more obvious effect upon the behaviour, and the conversation of the former, which in general is polite and easy; equally purified from the awkward timidity contracted in retirement, and the disgusting arrogance inspired by university honours, or church dignities. At Paris, the pedants of Moliere are to be seen on the stage only.

In this country, at present, there are many men distinguished by their learning, who at the same time are cheerful and easy in mixed company, unpresuming in argument, and in every respect as well bred, as those who have no other pretension.

Politeness and good manners, indeed, may be tra

ced, though in different proportions, through every rank, from the greatest of the nobility to the lowest mechanic. This forms a more remarkable and distinguishing feature in the French national character, than the vivacity, impetuosity, and fickleness, for which the ancient as well as the modern inhabitants of this country have been noted. It is certainly a very singular phænomenon, that politeness, which, in every other country, is confined to people of a certain rank in life, should here pervade every situation and profession. The man in power is courteous to his dependant, the prosperous to the unfortunate; the very beggar, who solicits charity, does it" en homme comme il faut ;" and if his request be not granted, he is sure, at least, that it will be refused with an appearance of humanity, and not with harshness or insult.

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A stranger, quite new and unversed in their language, whose accent is uncouth and ridiculous in the ears of the French, and who can scarcely open his mouth, without making a blunder in grammar or idiom, is heard with the most serious attention, and never laughed at, even when he utters the oddest solecism, or equivocal expression.

I am afraid, said I, yesterday, to a French gentleman, the phrase which I used just now is not French. "Monsieur," replied he, "cette expression effectivement n'est pas Françoise, mais elle mérite bien de l'être."

The most daring deviation from fashion, in the important article of dress, cannot make them forget the laws of good breeding. When a person appears at the public walks, in clothes made against every law of the mode, upon which the French are supposed to lay such stress, they do not stare or sneer at him ; they allow him first to pass, as it were unobserved, and do not till then turn round to indulge the curiosity, which his uncommon figure may have exsited.

I have remarked this instanee of delicacy often in the streets, in the lowest of the vulgar, or rather of

the common people; for there are really very few of the natives of Paris, who can be called vulgar.

There are exceptions to these, as to all general remarks on the manners and character of any nation. Loyalty, or an uncommon fondness for, and attachment to the persons of their princes, is another strik ing part of the French national character.

An Englishman, though he views the virtues of his king with a jealous eye during his reign, yet he will do them all justice in the reign of his succes

sor.

A German, while he is silent with respect to the foibles of his prince, admires all his talents much more than he would the same qualities in any other person.

A Turk, or Persian, contemplates his emperor with fear and reverence, as a superior being, to whose pleasure it is his dnty to submit, as to the laws of nature, and the will of Providence.

But a Frenchman, while he knows that his king is of the same nature, and liable to all the weaknesses of other men; while he enumerates his follies, and laughs as he laments them, is nevertheless attached to him by a sentiment of equal respect and tenderness; a kind of affectionate prejudice, independant of his real character.

Roi is a word, which conveys to the minds of Frenchmen the ideas of benevolence, gratitude, and love; as well as those of power, grandeur, and happiness.

They flock to Versailles every Sunday, behold him with unsatiated curiosity, and gaze on him with as much satisfaction the twentieth time as the first.

They consider him as their friend, though he does not know their persons; and as their benefactor, while they are oppressed with taxes.

They magnify into importance his most indifferent actions; they palliate and excuse all his weaknesses; and they impute his errors, or crimes, to his ministers or other evil counsellors, who (as they fondly assert) have for some base purpose, imposed upon his judg

ment, and perverted the undeviating rectitude of his intentions. They repeat with fond applause,every saying of his which seems to indicate the smallest approach to wit, or even bears the mark of ordinary sagacity.

The most inconsiderable circumstance, which relates to the monarch, is of importance. Whether he eat much or little at dinner; the coat he wears, the horse on which he rides, all afford matter of conversation in the various societies at Paris, and are the most agreeable subjects of epistolary correspondence with their friends in the provinces.

If he happens to be a little indisposed, all Paris, all France is alarmed, as if a real calamity was threatened; and to seem interested, or to converse upon any other subject, till this has been discussed, would be considered as a proof of unpardonable indifference.

At mass, it is the king, not the priest, who is the object of attention. The host is elevated, but the people's eyes remain fixed upon the face of their beloved monarch.

Even the most applauded pieces of the theatre, which in Paris create more emotion than the ceremonies of religion, can with difficulty divide their attention. A smile from the king makes them forget the sorrows of Andromache, and the wrongs of the Cid.

All this regard seems real, and not affected from any motive of interest; at least it must be so, with respect to the bulk of the people, who can have no hopes of ever being known to their princes, far less of ever receiving any personal favour from them.

The philosophical idea, that kings have been appointed for public conveniency; that they are accountable to their subjects for mal-administration, or for continued acts of injustice and oppression, is a doctrine very opposite to the general prejudices of this nation. If any of their kings were to behave in such an imprudent and outrageous manner, as to occasion a revolt, and if the insurgents actually got the better, question if they would think of new-modelling the government, and limiting the power of the crown, as

was done in Britain at the revolution, so as to prevent the like abuses for the future. They never would think of going further, I imagine, than placing another prince of the Bourbon family on the throne, with the same power that his predecessor had, and then quietly lay down their arms, satisfied with his royal word or declaration, to govern with more equity.

The French seem so delighted and dazzled with the lustre of monarchy, that they cannot bear the thoughts of any qualifying mixture, which might abate its violence, and render its ardour more benign. They consider the power of the king, from which their servitude proceeds, as if it were their own power. One would hardly believe it; but I am sure of the fact; they are proud of it; they are proud that there is no check or limitation to his authority.

They tell you with exultation, that the king has an army of near two hundred thousand men in the time of peace. A Frenchman is as vain of the palaces, fine gardens, number of horses, and all the paraphernalia belonging to the court of the monarch, as an Englishman can be of his own house, gardens, and equipage.

When they are told of the diffusion of wealth in England, the immense fortunes made by many individuals, the affluence of those of middle rank, the seeurity and easy situation of the common people; instead of being mortified by the comparison, which might naturally occur to their imagination, they comfort themselves with the reflection that the court of France is more brilliant than the court of Great Britain and that the duke of Orleans and the prince of Condé have greater revenues than any of the English nobility.

When they hear of the freedom of debate in parliament, of the liberties taken in writing or speaking of the conduct of the king, or measures of government, and the forms to be observed, before those who venture on the most daring abuse of either can be brought to punishment, they seem filled with indignation, and