3

hedges. We saw him walking in his waistcoat and riband, very well powdered; a figure like Guerchy. I cannot say his seat rivals Goodwood or Euston. I shall lie at Chantilly to-night, for I did not set out till ten this morning-not because I could not, as you will suspect, get up sooner-but because all the horses in the country have attended the queen to Nancy.*. Besides, I have a little underplot of seeing Chantilly and St. Denis in my way; which you know one could not do in the dark to-night, nor in winter, if I return then.

Hotel de feue madame l'Ambassadrice d'Angleterre,

Sept. 13, 7 o'clock.

I AM just arrived. My lady Hertford is not at home, and lady Anne5 will not come out of her burrow: so I have just time to finish this before madam returns; and Brian sets out to-night and will carry it. I find I shall have a great deal to say formerly I observed nothing, and now remark every thing minutely. I have already fallen in love with twenty things, and in hate with forty. Adieu!

Yours ever.

TO THE RIGHT HON. LADY HERVEY.

Paris, September 14, 1765.

I AM but two days old here, madam, and I doubt I wish I was really so, and had my life to begin, to live it here. You see how just I am, and ready to make amende honorable to your ladyship. Yet I have seen very little. My lady Hertford has cut me to pieces, and thrown me into a caldron with tailors, periwig-makers, snuff-box-wrights, milliners, &c. which really took up but little time; and I am come out quite new, with

3 The duc de Fitz-James's father, mareschal Berwick, was a natural son of James II. Mr. Walpole therefore compares his country seat with those of the dukes of Richmond and Grafton, similar descendants from his brother Charles II. [Or.]

* Stanislaus king of Poland, father to the queen of Louis XV. lived at Nancy. [Or.]

5 Lady Anne Seymour Conway, afterwards married to the earl of Drogheda. [Or.]

every thing but youth. The journey recovered me with magic expedition. My strength, if mine could ever be called strength, is returned; and the gout going off in a minuet step. I will say nothing of my spirits, which are indecently juvenile, and not less improper for my age than for the country where I am; which, if you will give me leave to say it, has a thought too much gravity. I don't venture to laugh or talk nonsense, but in English.

Madame Geoffrin came to town but last night, and is not visible on Sundays; but I hope to deliver your ladyship's letter and packet to-morrow. Mesdames d'Aiguillon, d'Egmont, and Chabot, and the duc de Nivernois are all in the country. Madame de Boufflers is at l'Isle Adam, whither my lady Hertford is gone to-night to sup, for the first time, being no longer chained down to the incivility of an ambassadress. She returns after supper; an irregularity that frightens me, who have not yet got rid of all my barbarisms. There is one, alas! I never shall get over-the dirt of this country: it is melancholy, after the purity of Strawberry! The narrowness of the streets, trees clipped to resemble brooms, and planted on pedestals of chalk, and a few other points, do not edify me. The French opera, which I have heard to-night, disgusted me as much as ever; and the more for being followed by the Devin de Village, which shews that they can sing without cracking the drum of one's ear. The scenes and dances are delightful: the Italian comedy charming. Then I am in love with treillage and fountains, and will prove it at Strawberry. Chantilly is so exactly what it was when I saw it above twenty years ago, that I recollected the very position of monsieur le duc's chair and the gallery. The latter gave me the first idea of mine; but, presumption apart, mine is a thousand times prettier. I gave my lord Herbert's compliments to the statue of his friend the constable ;' and, waiting some time for the concierge, I called out, Où est Vatel? 2

In short, madam, being as tired as one can be of one's own country, I don't say whether that is much or little,-I find

1 The constable de Montmorency. [Or.]

2 The maître-d'hotel, who, during the visit which Louis XIV. made to the grand Condé at Chantilly, put an end to his existence because he feared the sea-fish would not arrive in time for one day's repast. [Or.]

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. 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.

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 Brionne 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.]

+ 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.

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. I 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.

THE concern I felt at not seeing you before I left England, might make me express myself warmly, but I assure you it was 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.]