finest
coffee of Arabia. And of what are they chatting? Of the seraglio,
of Chardin, of the Sultana's coiffure, of the _Thousand and One
Nights_ (1704). They compare the ennui of Versailles with the
paradise of the Orient.

Very soon, in 1710-1720, commences the reign of Indian coffee,
abundant, popular, comparatively cheap. Bourbon, our Indian island,
where coffee was transplanted, suddenly realizes unheard-of
happiness. This coffee of volcanic lands acts as an explosive on
the Regency and the new spirit of things. This sudden cheer, this
laughter of the old world, these overwhelming flashes of wit, of
which the sparkling verse of Voltaire, the _Persian Letters_, give
us a faint idea! Even the most brilliant books have not succeeded
in catching on the wing this airy chatter, which comes, goes, flies
elusively. This is that spirit of ethereal nature which, in the
_Thousand and One Nights_, the enchanter confined in his bottle.
But what phial would have withstood that pressure?

The lava of Bourbon, like the Arabian sand, was unequal to the
demand. The Regent recognized this and had coffee transported to
the fertile soil of our Antilles. The strong coffee of Santo
Domingo, full, coarse, nourishing as well as stimulating, sustained
the adult population of that period, the strong age of the
encyclopedia. It was drunk by Buffon, Diderot, Rousseau, added its
glow to glowing souls, its light to the penetrating vision of the
prophets gathered in the cave of Procope, who saw at the bottom of
the black beverage the future rays of '89. Danton, the terrible
Danton, took several cups of coffee before mounting the tribune.
'The horse must have its oats,' he said.

The vogue of coffee popularized the use of sugar, which was then bought
by the ounce at the apothecary's shop. Dufour says that in Paris they
used to put so much sugar in the coffee that "it was nothing but a syrup
of blackened water." The ladies were wont to have their carriages stop
in front of the Paris cafes and to have their coffee served to them by
the porter on saucers of silver.

Every year saw new cafes opened. When they became so numerous, and
competition grew so keen, it was necessary to invent new attractions for
customers. Then was born the _cafe chantant_, where songs, monologues,
dances, little plays and farces (not alway