20 February 1651 – 26 February 1651

I went to see the Bonnes Hommes, a convent that has a fair cloister painted with the lives of hermits; a glorious altar now erecting in the chapel; the garden on the rock with divers descents, with a fine vineyard, and a delicate prospect toward the city.

I went to see a dromedary, a very monstrous beast, much like the camel, but larger. There was also dancing on the rope; but, above all, surprising to those who were ignorant of the address, was the water-spouter, who, drinking only fountain-water, rendered out of his mouth in several glasses all sorts of wine and sweet waters. For a piece of money he discovered the secret to me. I waited on Friar Nicholas at the convent at Chaillot, who, being an excellent chemist, showed me his laboratory, and rare collection of spagyrical remedies. He was both physician and apothecary of the convent, and, instead of the names of his drugs, he painted his boxes and pots with the figure of the drug, or simple, contained in them. He showed me as a rarity some ☿ of antimony. He had cured Monsieur Senatin of a desperate sickness, for which there was building a monumental altar that was to cost £1,500.