Observations and Reflections Made in the Course of a Journey through France, Italy, and Germany, Vo | Page 4

structure: and the ornaments of its high altar seem particularly well
chosen, of an excellent taste, and very capital execution. The vineyards
from thence hither shew, that either the climate, or season, or both,
improve upon one: the grapes climbing up some not very tall
golden-pippin trees, and mingling their fruits at the top, have a mighty

pleasing effect; and I observe the rage for Lombardy poplars is in equal
force here as about London: no tolerable house have I passed without
seeing long rows of them; all young plantations, as one may perceive
by their size. Refined countries always are panting for speedy
enjoyment: the maxim of _carpe diem_[Footnote: Seize the present
moment.] came into Rome when luxury triumphed there; and poets and
philosophers lent their assistance to decorate and dignify her gaudy car.
Till then we read of no such haste to be happy; and on the same
principle, while Americans contentedly wait the slow growth of their
columnal chesnut, our hot-bed inhabitants measure the slender poplar
with canes, anxiously admiring its quick growth and early elegance; yet
are often cut down themselves, before their youthful favourite can
afford them either pleasure or advantage.
This charming palace and gardens were new to neither of us, yet lovely
to both: the tame fish, I remember so well to have fed from my hand
eleven or twelve years ago, are turned almost all white; can it be with
age I wonder? the naturalists must tell. I once saw a carp which
weighed six pounds and an half taken out of a pond in Hertfordshire,
where the owners knew it had resided forty years at least; and it was
not white, but of the common colour: Quere, how long will they live?
and when will they begin to change? The stables struck me as more
magnificent this time than the last I saw them; the hounds were always
dirtily and ill kept; but hunting is not the taste of any nation now but
ours; none but a young English heir says to his estate as Goliah did to
David, _Come to me, and I will give thee to the beasts of the field, and
to the fowls of the air_; as some of our old books of piety reproach us.
Every trick that money can play with the most lavish abundance of
water is here exhibited; nor is the sight of a _jet d'eau_, or the murmur
of an artificial cascade, undelightful in a hot day, let the
Nature-mongers say what they please. The prince's cabinet, for a
private collection, is not a mean one; but I was sorry to see his quadrant
rusted to the globe almost, and the poor planetarium out of all repair.
The great stuffed dog is a curiosity however; I never saw any of the
canine species so large, and withal so beautiful, living or dead.
The theatre belonging to the house is a lovely one; and the truly

princely possessor, when he heard once that an English gentleman,
travelling for amusement, had called at Chantilly too late to enjoy the
diversion, instantly, though past twelve o'clock at night, ordered a new
representation, that his curiosity might be gratified. This is the same
Prince of Condè, who going from Paris to his country-seat here for a
month or two, when his eldest son was nine years old, left him fifty
louis d'ors as an allowance during his absence. At his return to town,
the boy produced his purse, crying "_Papa! here's all the money safe, I
have never touched it once_"--The Prince, in reply, took him gravely to
the window, and opening it, very quietly poured all the louis d'ors into
the street; saying, "Now, if you have neither virtue enough to give away
your money, nor spirit enough to spend it, always do this for the future,
do you hear; that the poor may at least have a chance for it."

PARIS.
The fine paved road to this town has many inconveniencies, and jars
the nerves terribly with its perpetual rattle; the approach however
always strikes one as very fine, I think, and the boulevards and
guingettes look always pretty too: as wine, beer, and spirits are not
permitted to be sold there, one sees what England does not even
pretend to exhibit, which is gaiety without noise, and a crowd without a
riot. I was pleased to go over the churches again too, and re-experience
that particular sensation which the disposition of St. Rocque's altars and
ornaments alone can give. In the evening we looked at the new square
called the Palais Royal, whence the Due de Chartres has removed a vast
number of noble trees, which it was a sin and shame to profane with an
axe, after they had adorned that spot for