tanding the extravagant eulogiums
which you have heard of the French king's houses, I will venture to
affirm that the king of England is better, I mean more comfortably,
lodged. I ought, however, to except Fontainebleau, which I have not
seen.

The city of Paris is said to be five leagues, or fifteen miles, in
circumference; and if it is really so, it must be much more populous
than London; for the streets are very narrow, and the houses very high,
with a different family on every floor. But I have measured the best
plans of these two royal cities, and am certain that Paris does not
take up near so much ground as London and Westminster occupy; and I
suspect the number of its inhabitants is also exaggerated by those who
say it amounts to eight hundred thousand, that is two hundred thousand
more than are contained in the bills of mortality. The hotels of the
French noblesse, at Paris, take up a great deal of room, with their
courtyards and gardens; and so do their convents and churches. It must
be owned, indeed, that their streets are wonderfully crouded with
people and carriages.

The French begin to imitate the English, but only in such particulars
as render them worthy of imitation. When I was last at Paris, no person
of any condition, male or female, appeared, but in full dress, even
when obliged to come out early in the morning, and there was not such a
thing to be seen as a perruque ronde; but at present I see a number of
frocks and scratches in a morning, in the streets of this metropolis.
They have set up a petite poste, on the plan of our penny-post, with
some improvements; and I am told there is a scheme on foot for
supplying every house with water, by leaden pipes, from the river
Seine. They have even adopted our practice of the cold bath, which is
taken very conveniently, in wooden houses, erected on the side of the
river, the water of which is let in and out occasionally, by cocks
fixed in the sides of the bath. There are different rooms for the
different sexes: the accommodations are good, and the expence is a
trifle. The tapestry of the Gobelins is brought to an amazing degree of
perfection; and I am surprised that this furniture is not more in
fashion among the great, who alone are able to purchase it. It would be
a most elegant and magnificent ornament, which would always nobly
distinguish their apartments from those, of an inferior rank; and in
this they would run no risk of being rivalled by the bourg