TO THE HON. H. S. CONWAY.

Paris, Oct. 6, 1765.

I AM glad to find you grow just, and that you do conceive at last, that I could do better than stay in England for politics. Tenez, mon enfant, as the duchesse de la Ferté said to madame Staal;' comme il n'y a que moi au monde qui aie toujours raison, I will be very reasonable; and as you have made this concession to me, who knew I was in the right, I will not expect you to answer all my reasonable letters. If you send a bullying letter to the king of Spain, or to chose, my neighbour here, I will consider them as written to myself, and subtract so much from your bill.-Nay, I will accept a line from lady Ailesbury now and then in part of payment. I shall continue to write as the wind sets in my pen; and do own my babble does not demand much reply.

3

For so reasonable a person as I am, I have changed my mind very often about this country. The first five days I was in violent spirits then came a dismal cloud of whisk and literature, and I could not bear it. At present I begin, very Englishly indeed to establish a right to my own way. I laugh, and talk nonsense, and make them hear me. There are two or three houses where I go quite at my ease, am never asked to touch a card, nor hold dissertations. Nay, I don't pay homage to their authors. Every woman has one or two planted in her house, and God knows how they water them. The old president Henault is the pagod at madame du Deffand's, an old blind debauchée of wit, where I supped last night. The president is

1 See Mémoires de Madame de Staal (the first authoress of that name), published with the rest of her works in three small volumes. [Or.]

2 Mr. Conway was now secretary of state for the foreign department. [Or.]

8 The king of France, Louis XV. [Or.]

4 Le président Henault, surintendant de la maison de mademoiselle la Dauphine, membre de l'Académie Françoise et de l'Académie des Inscriptions, known by his celebrated work, the Abrégé Chronologique de l'Histoire de France, and from the admirable table which he kept, and which was the resort of all the wits and savans of the day. His cook was the best

in

very near deaf, and much nearer superannuated. He sits by the table: the mistress of the house, who formerly was his, inquires after every dish on the table, is told who has eaten of which, and then bawls the bill of fare of every individual into the president's ears. In short, every mouthful is proclaimed, and so is every blunder I make against grammar. Some that I make on purpose, succeed; and one of them is to be reported to the queen to-day by Henault, who is her great favourite. I had been at Versailles; and having been much taken notice of by her majesty, I said, alluding to madame Sevigné, La reine est le plus grand roi du monde. You may judge if I am in possession by a scene that passed after supper. Sir James Macdonalds had been mimicking Hume: I told the women, who, besides the mistress, were the duchess de la Valiere, madame de Forcalquier, a demoiselle, that to be sure they would be glad to have a specimen of Mr. Pitt's manner of speaking; and that nobody mimicked him so well as Elliot. They firmly

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in Paris, and the master was worthy of his cook, a fact which Voltaire celebrates in the opening lines of the epitaph which he wrote for him : Henault, fameux par vos soupers,

Et votre Chronologie, &c. [Ed.]

5 Sir James Mac Donald of Mac Donald, the eighth baronet, who died at Rome on the 26th July 1766, in the twenty-fourth year of his age, regretted by all who knew him. The baron Grimm, speaking of him in his correspondence, says, "he astonished every body by the extent and variety of his knowledge, by the solidity of his judgment, and the maturity of his mind." [Ed.]

• La duchesse de la Valiere, daughter of the duc d'Usez. She was one of the handsomest women in France, and preserved her beauty even to old age. She died about 1792, at the age of eighty. [Ed.]

She had been first married

7 The comtesse de Forcalquier, née Canizy. to the comte d'Antin, son to the comtesse de Toulouse, by a marriage previous to that with the comte de Toulouse, one of the natural children of Louis Quatorze, whom he legitimated. [Ed.]

8 Sir Gilbert Elliot of Minto, grandfather of the present lord Minto. He filled several high official situations, being appointed a lord of the admiralty in 1756, treasurer of the chamber in 1762, keeper of the signets for Scotland in 1767, and treasurer of the navy in 1770. He was a man of considerable political reputation, and possessed no mean poetical abilities, as

his song,

"My sheep I neglected, I broke my sheep-hook," sufficiently proves. He died in 1777. [Ed.]

believed it, teased him for an hour, and at last said he was the rudest man in the world not to oblige them. It appeared the more strange, because here every body sings, reads their own works in public, or attempts any one thing without hesitation or capacity. Elliot speaks miserable French; which added to the diversion.

I had had my share of distress in the morning, by going through the operation of being presented to the royal family, down to the little Madame's pap-dinner, and had behaved as sillily as you will easily believe; hiding myself behind every mortal. The queen called me up to her dressing-table, and seemed mightily disposed to gossip with me; but instead of enjoying my glory like madame de Sevigné, I slunk back into the crowd after a few questions. She told monsieur de Guerchy of it afterwards, and that I had run away from her, but said she would have her revenge at Fontainbleau-So I must go thither, which I did not intend. The king, dauphin, dauphiness, mesdames, and the wild beast, did not say a word to me. Yes, the wild beast, he of the Gevaudan. He is killed, and actually in the queen's antechamber, where he was exhibited to us with as much parade as if it was Mr. Pitt. It is an exceedingly large wolf, and, the connoisseurs say, has twelve teeth more than any wolf ever had since the days of Romulus's wet-nurse. The critics deny it to be the true beast; and I find most people think the beast's name is legion, for there are many. He was covered with a sheet, which two chasseurs lifted up for the foreign ministers and strangers. I dined at the duke of Praslin's with fiveand-twenty tomes of the corps diplomatique; and after dinner was presented, by monsieur de Guerchy, to the duc de Choiseul.9 The duc de Praslin is as like his own letters in D'Eon's book as he can stare; that is, I believe, a very silly fellow. His wisdom is of the grave kind. His cousin, the first minister, is a little volatile being, whose countenance and manner had nothing to frighten me for my country. I saw him but for three seconds, which is as much as he allows to any one body or thing. Monsieur de Guerchy,10 whose goodness to me is inexpressible, took the trouble of walking every where with me, and carried 9 The duke de Choiseul: he succeeded to the premiership of France in 1756, upon the exile of the Cardinal de Bernis. [Ed.]

10 He had been ambassador in England, [Or.]

me particularly to see the new office for state papers-I wish I could send it you. It is a large building, disposed like an hospital, with the most admirable order and method. Lodgings for every officer; his name and business written over his door. In the body is a perspective of seven or eight large chambers: each is painted with emblems, and wainscoted with presses with wired doors and crimson curtains. Over each press, in golden letters, the country to which the pieces relate, as Angleterre, Allemagne, &c. Each room has a large funnel of bronze with or moulu, like a column, to air the papers and preserve them. In short, it is as magnificent as useful.

From thence I went to see the reservoir of pictures at monsieur de Marigny's. They are what are not disposed of in the palaces, though sometimes changed with others. This refuse, which fills many rooms from top to bottom, is composed of the most glorious works of Raphael, L. da Vinci, Giorgione, Titian, Guido, Correggio, &c. Many pictures, which I knew by their prints, without an idea where they existed, I found there.

The duc de Nivernois is extremely obliging to me. I have supped at madame de Bentheim's, who has a very fine house, and a woful husband. She is much livelier than any Frenchwoman. The liveliest man I have seen is the duc de Duras:11 he is shorter and plumper than lord Halifax, but very like him in the face. I am to sup with the Dussons12 on Sunday. In short, all that have been in England are exceedingly disposed to repay any civilities they received there. Monsieur de Caraman wrote from the country to excuse his not coming to see me, as his wife 13 is on the point of being brought to bed, but begged I would come to them-So I would, if I was a man-midwife: but though they are easy on such heads, I am not used to it, and cannot make a party of pleasure of a labour.

Wilkes arrived here two days ago, and announced that he was going minister to Constantinople. To-day I hear he has

11 Le duc de Duras, one of the gentlemen of the bed-chamber at the court of France. [Ed.]

12 M. D'Usson, who had formerly been in England in a diplomatic capacity, was brother to the marquis de Bonnac, the French ambassador at the Hague. [Ed.]

13 Madame de Caraman was sister to the prince of Chimay, and maternal niece to madame de Mirepoix. [Ed.]

lowered his credentials, and talks of going to England, if he can

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make his peace. I thought by the manner in which this was mentioned to me, that the person meant to sound me: but I made no answer; for, having given up politics in England, I certainly did not come to transact them here. He has not been to make me the first visit, which, as the last arrived, depends on him: so, never having spoken to him in my life, I have no call to seek him. I avoid all politics so much, that I had not heard one word here about Spain. I suppose my silence passes for very artful mystery, and puzzles the ministers, who keep spies on the most insignificant foreigner. It would have been lucky if I had been as watchful. At Chantilly I lost my portmanteau with half my linen; and the night before last I was robbed of a new frock, waistcoat, and breeches, laced with gold, a white and silver waistcoat, black velvet breeches, a knife, and a book. These are expenses I did not expect, and by no means entering into my system of extravagance.

I am very sorry for the death of lord Ophaly, and for his family. I knew the poor young man himself but little, but he seemed extremely good-natured. What the duke of Richmond will do for a hotel, I cannot conceive. Adieu!

Yours ever.

TO THE RIGHT HON. LADY HERVEY.

Paris, October 13, 1765.

How are the mighty fallen! Yes, yes, madam, I am as like the duc de Richelieu as two peas; but then they are two old withered grey peas. Do you remember the fable of Cupid. and Death, and what a piece of work they made with hustling their arrows together? This is just my case: love might shoot at me, but it was with a gouty arrow. I have had a relapse in both feet, and kept my bed six days: but the fit seems to be going off; my heart can already go alone, and my feet promise themselves the mighty luxury of a cloth shoe in two or three days. Mr. and Mrs. Ramsay,' who are here, and are, alas! to carry this, have been of great comfort to me, and have brought Allan Ramsay, the painter. [Or.]

14 After his outlawry. [Or.]