Travels Through France And Italy by Tobias Smollett (beautiful books to read .txt) 📖

Part 7 Letter 5 ( Boulogne, September 12, 1763.) Pg 77

For That Purpose.

 

 

 

When I Said The French People Were Kept In Good Humour By The

Fopperies Of Their Religion, I Did Not Mean That There Were No

Gloomy Spirits Among Them. There Will Be Fanatics In Religion,

While There Are People Of A Saturnine Disposition, And Melancholy

Turn Of Mind. The Character Of A Devotee, Which Is Hardly Known

In England, Is Very Common Here. You See Them Walking To And From

Church At All Hours, In Their Hoods And Long Camblet Cloaks, With

A Slow Pace, Demure Aspect, And Downcast Eye. Those Who Are Poor

Become Very Troublesome To The Monks, With Their Scruples And

Cases Of Conscience: You May See Them On Their Knees, At The

Confessional, Every Hour In The Day. The Rich Devotee Has Her

Favourite Confessor, Whom She Consults And Regales In Private, At

Her Own House; And This Spiritual Director Generally Governs The

Whole Family. For My Part I Never Knew A Fanatic That Was Not An

Hypocrite At Bottom. Their Pretensions To Superior Sanctity, And

An Absolute Conquest Over All The Passions, Which Human Reason

Was Never Yet Able To Subdue, Introduce A Habit Of Dissimulation,

Which, Like All Other Habits, Is Confirmed By Use, Till At Length

They Become Adepts In The Art And Science Of Hypocrisy.

Enthusiasm And Hypocrisy Are By No Means Incompatible. The

Wildest Fanatics I Ever Knew, Were Real Sensualists In Their Way

Of Living, And Cunning Cheats In Their Dealings With Mankind.

 

 

 

Among The Lower Class Of People At Boulogne, Those Who Take The

Lead, Are The Sea-Faring Men, Who Live In One Quarter, Divided

Into Classes, And Registered For The Service Of The King. They

Are Hardy And Raw-Boned, Exercise The Trade Of Fishermen And

Boatmen, And Propagate Like Rabbits. They Have Put Themselves

Under The Protection Of A Miraculous Image Of The Virgin Mary,

Which Is Kept In One Of Their Churches, And Every Year Carried In

Procession. According To The Legend, This Image Was Carried Off,

With Other Pillage, By The English, When They Took Boulogne, In

The Reign Of Henry Viii. The Lady, Rather Than Reside In England,

Where She Found A Great Many Heretics, Trusted Herself Alone In

An Open Boat, And Crossed The Sea To The Road Of Boulogne, Where

She Was Seen Waiting For A Pilot. Accordingly A Boat Put Off To

Her Assistance, And Brought Her Safe Into The Harbour: Since

Which Time She Has Continued To Patronize The Watermen Of

Boulogne. At Present She Is Very Black And Very Ugly, Besides

Being Cruelly Mutilated In Different Parts Of Her Body, Which I

Suppose Have Been Amputated, And Converted Into Tobacco-Stoppers;

But Once A Year She Is Dressed In Very Rich Attire, And Carried

In Procession, With A Silver Boat, Provided At The Expence Of The

Sailors. That Vanity Which Characterises The French Extends Even

To The Canaille. The Lowest Creature Among Them Is Sure To Have

Her Ear-Rings And Golden Cross Hanging About Her Neck. Indeed

This Last Is An Implement Of Superstition As Well As Of Dress,

Without Which No Female Appears. The Common People Here, As In 

Part 7 Letter 5 ( Boulogne, September 12, 1763.) Pg 78

All Countries Where They Live Poorly And Dirtily, Are Hard-Featured,

And Of Very Brown, Or Rather Tawny Complexions. As They

Seldom Eat Meat, Their Juices Are Destitute Of That Animal Oil

Which Gives A Plumpness And Smoothness To The Skin, And Defends

Those Fine Capillaries From The Injuries Of The Weather, Which

Would Otherwise Coalesce, Or Be Shrunk Up, So As To Impede The

Circulation On The External Surface Of The Body. As For The Dirt,

It Undoubtedly Blocks Up The Pores Of The Skin, And Disorders The

Perspiration; Consequently Must Contribute To The Scurvy, Itch,

And Other Cutaneous Distempers.

 

 

 

In The Quarter Of The Matelots At Boulogne. There Is A Number Of

Poor Canadians, Who Were Removed From The Island Of St. John, In

The Gulph Of St. Laurence. When It Was Reduced By The English.

These People Are Maintained At The Expence Of The King, Who

Allows Them Soldier's Pay, That Is Five Sols, Or Two-Pence

Halfpenny A Day; Or Rather Three Sols And Ammunition Bread. How

The Soldiers Contrive To Subsist Upon This Wretched Allowance, I

Cannot Comprehend: But, It Must Be Owned, That Those Invalids Who

Do Duty At Boulogne Betray No Marks Of Want. They Are Hale And

Stout, Neatly And Decently Cloathed, And On The Whole Look Better

Than The Pensioners Of Chelsea.

 

 

 

About Three Weeks Ago I Was Favoured With A Visit By One Mr. M--,

An English Gentleman, Who Seems Far Gone In A Consumption. He

Passed The Last Winter At Nismes In Languedoc, And Found Himself

Much Better In The Beginning Of Summer, When He Embarked At

Cette, And Returned By Sea To England. He Soon Relapsed, However,

And (As He Imagines) In Consequence Of A Cold Caught At Sea. He

Told Me, His Intention Was To Try The South Again, And Even To Go

As Far As Italy. I Advised Him To Make Trial Of The Air Of Nice,

Where I Myself Proposed To Reside. He Seemed To Relish My Advice,

And Proceeded Towards Paris In His Own Carriage.

 

 

 

I Shall To-Morrow Ship My Great Chests On Board Of A Ship Bound

To Bourdeaux; They Are Directed, And Recommended To The Care Of A

Merchant Of That Place, Who Will Forward Them By Thoulouse, And

The Canal Of Languedoc, To His Correspondent At Cette, Which Is

The Sea-Port Of Montpellier. The Charge Of Their Conveyance To

Bourdeaux Does Not Exceed One Guinea. They Consist Of Two Very

Large Chests And A Trunk, About A Thousand Pounds Weight; And The

Expence Of Transporting Them From Bourdeaux To Cette, Will Not

Exceed Thirty Livres. They Are Already Sealed With Lead At The

Customhouse, That They May Be Exempted From Further Visitation.

This Is A Precaution Which Every Traveller Takes, Both By Sea And

Land: He Must Likewise Provide Himself With A Passe-Avant At The

Bureau, Otherwise He May Be Stopped, And Rummaged At Every Town

Through Which He Passes. I Have Hired A Berline And Four Horses 

Part 7 Letter 5 ( Boulogne, September 12, 1763.) Pg 79

To Paris, For Fourteen Loui'dores; Two Of Which The Voiturier Is

Obliged To Pay For A Permission From The Farmers Of The Poste;

For Every Thing Is Farmed In This Country; And If You Hire A

Carriage, As I Have Done, You Must Pay Twelve Livres, Or Half-A-Guinea,

For Every Person That Travels In It. The Common Coach

Between Calais And Paris, Is Such A Vehicle As No Man Would Use,

Who Has Any Regard To His Own Case And Convenience And It Travels

At The Pace Of An English Waggon.

 

 

 

In Ten Days I Shall Set Out On My Journey; And I Shall Leave

Boulogne With Regret. I Have Been Happy In The Acquaintance Of

Mrs. B--, And A Few British Families In The Place; And It Was My

Good Fortune To Meet Here With Two Honest Gentlemen, Whom I Had

Formerly Known In Paris, As Well As With Some Of My Countrymen,

Officers In The Service Of France. My Next Will Be From Paris.

Remember Me To Our Friends At A--'S. I Am A Little Heavy-Hearted

At The Prospect Of Removing To Such A Distance From You. It Is A

Moot Point Whether I Shall Ever Return. My Health Is Very

Precarious. Adieu.

 

 

 

Part 7 Letter 6 ( Paris, October 12, 1763.) Pg 80

 

Dear Sir,--Of Our Journey From Boulogne I Have Little To Say. The

Weather Was Favourable, And The Roads Were In Tolerable Order. We

Found Good Accommodation At Montreuil And Amiens; But In Every

Other Place Where We Stopped, We Met With Abundance Of Dirt, And

The Most Flagrant Imposition. I Shall Not Pretend To Describe The

Cities Of Abbeville And Amiens, Which We Saw Only En Passant; Nor

Take Up Your Time With An Account Of The Stables And Palace Of

Chantilly, Belonging To The Prince Of Conde, Which We Visited The

Last Day Of Our Journey; Nor Shall I Detain You With A Detail Of

The Trefors De St. Denis, Which, Together With The Tombs In The

Abbey Church, Afforded Us Some Amusement While Our Dinner Was

Getting Ready. All These Particulars Are Mentioned In Twenty

Different Books Of Tours, Travels, And Directions, Which You Have

Often Perused. I Shall Only Observe, That The Abbey Church Is The

Lightest Piece Of Gothic Architecture I Have Seen, And The Air

Within Seems Perfectly Free From That Damp And Moisture, So

Perceivable In All Our Old Cathedrals. This Must Be Owing To The

Nature Of Its Situation. There Are Some Fine Marble Statues That

Adorn The Tombs Of Certain Individuals Here Interred; But They

Are Mostly In The French Taste, Which Is Quite Contrary To The

Simplicity Of The Antients. Their Attitudes Are Affected,

Unnatural, And Desultory; And Their Draperies Fantastic; Or, As 

Part 7 Letter 6 ( Paris, October 12, 1763.) Pg 81