say its admirers, the most superb monument of the magnificence of Louis
XIV. Here you may dispute about anything except music and the opera; on
these topics alone it is dangerous not to dissemble. French music,
too, is defended by a very vigorous inquisition, and the first thing
indicated is a warning to strangers who visit this country that all
foreigners admit there is nothing so fine as the grand opera at Paris.
The fact is, discreet people hold their tongues and laugh in their
sleeves. It must, however, be conceded that not only all the marvels of
nature, but many other marvels much greater, which no one has ever seen,
are represented at great cost at this theatre; and certainly Pope must
have alluded to it when he describes a stage on which were seen gods,
hobgoblins, monsters, kings, shepherds, fairies, fury, joy, fire, a jig,
a battle, and a ball.*...

* Addison gives some such description of the French opera in
No. 29 of the "Spectator."

Having told you what others say of this brilliant spectacle, I will
now tell you what I have seen myself. Imagine an inclosure fifteen feet
broad and long in proportion; this inclosure is the theatre. On its two
sides are placed at intervals screens, on which are grossly painted
the objects which the scene is about to represent. At the back of the
inclosure hangs a great curtain painted in like manner, and nearly
always pierced and torn, that it may represent at a little distance
gulfs on the earth or holes in the sky. Every one who passes behind this
stage or touches the curtain produces a sort of earthquake, which has a
double effect. The sky is made from certain bluish rags suspended
from poles or from cords, as linen may be seen hung out to dry in any
washerwoman's yard. The sun (for it is seen here sometimes) is a lighted
torch in a lantern. The cars of the gods and goddesses are composed of
four rafters, squared and hung on a thick rope in the form of a swing or
seesaw; between the rafters is a cross-plank on which the god sits down,
and in front hangs a piece of coarse cloth well dirtied, which acts the
part of clouds for the magnificent car. One may see toward the bottom of
the machine two or three stinking candles, badly snuffed, which, while
the great personage dementedly presents himself, swinging in his seesaw,
fumigate him with an incense worthy of his dignity. The agitated sea
is composed of long lanterns of cloth and blue pasteboard, strung on
paralle