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 everything ,” they must mean to speak of those who have seen it by daylight.
As for candlelight—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, etc … for that’s not truth—but it is an uncertain light in this respect, That in all the five hundred grand Hôtels, 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 Hôtel), which by candlelight are best to be seen , felt , heard , and understood (which, by the by, 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 argumentations, 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.