myself wonderfully disposed to like this-Indeed I wish I could wash it. Madame de Guerchy is all goodness to me; but that is not new. I have already been prevented by great civilities from madame de Bentheim and my old friend madame de Mirepoix; but am not likely to see the latter much, who is grown a most particular favourite of the king, and seldom from him. The dauphin is ill, and thought in a very bad way. way. I hope he will live, lest the theatres should be shut up. Your ladyship knows I never trouble my head about royalties, farther than it affects my own interest.—In truth, the way that princes affect my interest is not the common way. I have not yet tapped the chapter of baubles, being desirous of making my revenues maintain me here as long as possible. It will be time enough to return to my parliament when I want money. 3 4 Mr. Hume, that is, the Mode, asked much about your ladyship. I have seen madame de Monaco, and think her very handsome, and extremely pleasing. The younger madame d'Egmont, I hear, disputes the palm with her; and madame de Brionne5 is not left without partisans. The nymphs of the theatres are laides à faire peur, which at my age is a piece of luck, like going into a shop of curiosities, and finding nothing to tempt one to throw away one's money. There are several English here, whether I will or not. I certainly did not come for them, and shall connect with them as little as possible. The few I value, I hope sometimes to hear of. Your ladyship guesses how far that wish extends. Consider 3 David Hume, the historian, then residing at Paris. He had been secretary of embassy to the earl of Hertford while ambassador at Paris, where, in the lively circles in which he moved, he was designated Le Paysan du Danube, from Fontaine's fable under that title, in which is described a person of rough and heavy exterior, possessed of great powers of mind and reasoning. [Ed.] 4 Madame de Monaco, afterwards princess de Condé. During the disputes between the king and the parliament of Paris, in January 1771, when the latter refused to perform their functions, they assembled for a few days in hopes of some modification of the lettre de Jussion, during which the only act they performed was to pronounce the sentence of separation between M. and Madame de Monaco, an act which the wits of the day called La paix de Monaco. [Ed.] 5 Madame de Brionne, née Rohan Rochefort, wife of M. de Brionne of the house of Lorraine, and mother of the prince de Lambesc. [Ed.] too, madam, that one of my unworthinesses is washed and done away, by the confession I made in the beginning of my letter. DEAR SIR, TO THE REV. MR. COLE. Paris, Wednesday, Sept. 18, 1765. I have this moment received your letter, and as a courier is just setting out, I had rather take the opportunity of writing to you a short letter than defer it for a longer. I had a very good passage, and pleasant journey, and find myself surprisingly recovered for the time. Thank you for the good news you tell me of your coming: it gives me great joy. I To the end of this week I shall be in lord Hertford's house: so have not yet got a lodging: but when I do, you will easily find me. I have no banker, but credit on a merchant who is a private friend of lord Hertford: consequently I cannot give you credit on him: but you shall have the use of my credit, which will be the same thing; and we can settle our accounts together. brought about 1007. with me, as I would advise you to do. Guineas you may change into Louis or French crowns at Calais and Boulogne; and even small bank bills will be taken here. In any shape I will assist you. Be careful on the road. My portmanteau, with part of my linen, was stolen from before my chaise at noon, while I went to see Chantilly. If you stir out of your room, lock the door of it in the inn, or leave your man in it. If you arrive near the time you propose, you will find me here, and I hope much longer. Yours ever. To GEORGE MONTAGU, Esq. Paris, Sept. 22, 1765. it was THE concern I felt at not seeing you before I left England, might make me express myself warmly, but I assure you nothing but concern, nor was mixed with a grain of pouting. I knew some of your reasons, and guessed others. The latter grieve me heartily; but I advise you to do as I do: when I meet with ingratitude, I take a short leave both of it and its host. Formerly I used to look out for indemnification somewhere else; but having lived long enough to learn that the reparation generally proved a second evil of the same sort, I am content now to skin over such wounds with amusements, which at least leave no scars. It is true amusements do not always amuse when we bid them. I find it so here; nothing strikes me; every thing I do is indifferent to me. I like the people very well, and their way of life very well; but as neither were my object, I should not much care if they were any other people, or it was any other way of life. I am out of England, and my purpose is answered. Nothing can be more obliging than the reception I meet with every where. It may not be more sincere (and why should it?) than our cold and bare civility; but it is better dressed, and looks natural; one asks no more. I have begun to sup in French houses, and as lady Hertford has left Paris to day, shall increase my intimacies. There are swarms of English here, but most of them are going, to my great satisfaction. As the greatest part are very young, they can no more be entertaining to me than I to them, and it certainly was not my countrymen that I came to live with. Suppers please me extremely; I love to rise and breakfast late, and to trifle away the day as I like. There are sights enough to answer that end, and shops you know are an endless field for me. The city appears much worse to me than I thought I remembered it. The French music as shocking as I knew it was. The French stage is fallen off, though in the only part I have seen Le Kain' I admire him 1 Henri Louis Le Kain, the distinguished French tragedian, was born at Paris, 14th April 1725, and died there 8th February 1778. He was originally brought up as a surgical instrument maker, but his dramatic talents having been made known to Voltaire, he took him under his instructions, and secured him an engagement at the French theatre, where Le Kain performed for the first time in the year 1750, a few days after Voltaire had set out for Berlin. The consequence was, Voltaire never witnessed the success of his pupil, for when Voltaire returned to Paris, after an absence of twenty-seven years, he found Le Kain had died the very day before his arrival. It was Le Kain who replied to an officer who had spoken contemptuously of actors, comparing their situation with that of a military man compelled after long service to retire upon half pay, "How, sir! do you not reckon as anything the right you have to talk to me in this way?" [Ed.] 2 extremely. He is very ugly and ill made, and yet has an heroic dignity which Garrick wants, and great fire. The Dumenil I have not seen yet, but shall in a day or two. It is a mortification that I cannot compare her with the Clairon, who has left the stage. Grandval I saw through a whole play without suspecting it was he. Alas! four-and-twenty years make strange havock with us mortals! You cannot imagine how this struck me! The Italian comedy, now united with their opera comique, is their most perfect diversion; but alas! harlequin, my dear favourite harlequin, my passion, makes me more melancholy than cheerful. Instead of laughing, I sit silently reflecting how every thing loses charms when one's own youth does not lend it gilding! When we are divested of that eagerness and illusion with which our youth presents objects to us, we are but the caput mortuum of pleasure. Grave as these ideas are, they do not unfit me for French company. The present tone is serious enough in conscience. Unluckily the subjects of their conversation are duller to me than my own thoughts, which may be tinged with melancholy reflections, but I doubt from my constitution will never be insipid. The French affect philosophy, literature, and free-thinking; the first never did, and never will possess me; of the two others I have long been tired. Free-thinking is for one's self, surely not for society; besides one has settled one's way of thinking, or knows it cannot be settled, and for others I do not see why there is not as much bigotry in attempting conversions from any religion as to it. I dined to-day with a dozen savants, and 2 Mademoiselle Claire Joseph Legris de la Lute, better known as mademoiselle Clairon, was born near Condé, in 1723, and made her first appearance at Paris in 1743, in the character of Phedra. She died at Paris in 1803. Several letters addressed by her to Garrick, as well as several from Le Kain, will be found in "The Private Correspondence of David Garrick," published in 1832; and the opinion which our English Roscius formed of her talents may be gained from the fact of his sketching, one night at a supper at her house, a design in which she is represented as crowned by Melpomene, with this quatrain underneath : That Clairon would adorn the tragic scene I oft foretold, nor am in error found; By her Melpomene long crown'd has been, though all the servants were waiting, the conversation was much more unrestrained, even on the Old Testament, than I would suffer at my own table in England if a single footman was present. For literature, it is very amusing when one has nothing else to do. I think it rather pedantic in society; tiresome when displayed professedly; and besides in this country one is sure it is only the fashion of the day. Their taste in it is worst of all: could one believe that when they read our authors, Richardson and Mr. Hume should be their favourites? The latter is treated here with perfect veneration. His history, so falsified in many points, so partial in as many, so very unequal in its parts, is thought the standard of writing. In their dress and equipages they are grown very simple. We English are living upon their old gods and goddesses; I roll about in a chariot decorated with cupids, and look like the grandfather of Adonis. Of their parliaments and clergy I hear a good deal, and attend very little: I cannot take up any history in the middle, and was too sick of politics at home to enter into them here. In short, I have done with the world, and live in it rather than in a desert, like you. Few men can bear absolute retirement, and we English worst of all. We grow so humoursome, so obstinate and capricious, and so prejudiced, that it requires a fund of goodnature like yours not to grow morose. Company keeps our rind from growing too coarse and rough; and though at my return I design not to mix in public, I do not intend to be quite a recluse. My absence will put it in my power to take up or drop as much as I please. Adieu! I shall inquire about your commission of books, but having been arrived but ten days, have not yet had time. Need I say?-no I need not,-that nobody can be more affectionately yours than, &c. TO THE RIGHT HON. LADY HERVEY. Paris, Oct. 3, 1765. STILL I have seen neither madame d'Egmont nor the duchess d'Aiguillon, who are in the country; but the latter comes to Paris to-morrow. Madame Chabot I called on last |