LETTER LIII.

FPaul Gilladeauwho lately left the Silver Lion, atCalais, has, I am informed, opened a Livery Stable atParis, upon theLondonplan, in partnership withDessein, of theHotel d'AngleterreatCalais: a convenience much wanted, and undertaken by a man very likely to succeed.

The beauties, the pleasures, and variety of amusements, which this city abounds with, are, without doubt, the magnets which attract so many people of rank and fortune of all nations to it; all which are too well known to be pointed out by me.—To a person of great fortune in thehey-dayof life,Parismay be preferable even toLondon; but to one of my age and walk in life, it is, and was ten years ago, the least agreeable place I have seen in France.—Walking the streets is extremely dangerous, riding in them very expensive; and when those things which are worthy to be seen, (and much there is very worthy) have been seen, the city ofParisbecomes a melancholy residence for a stranger, who neither plays at cards, dice, or deals in the principal manufacture of the city; i.e.ready-made love, a business which is carried on with great success, and with more decency, I think,thateven inLondon. The English Ladies areweakenough to attach themselves to, and to love, one man. The gay part of the French women love none, but receive all,pour passer le tems.—TheEnglish, unlike theParisianLadies, take pains to discoverwhothey love; the French women to dissemble with those they hate.

It is extremely difficult for even strangers of rank or fortune, to get among the first people, so as to be admitted to their suppers; and without that, it is impossible to have any idea of the luxury and stile in which they live: quantity, variety, and show, are more attended to in France, than neatness. It is in England alone, where tables are served with real and uniform elegance; but the appetite meets with more provocatives in France; and the Frenchcuisinein that respect, certainly has the superiority.

Ten years ago I had the honour to be admitted often to the table of a Lady of the first rank. OnSt. Ann's-day, (that being her name-day) she received the visits of her friends, who all brought either a valuable present, a poesy, or a compliment in verse: when the dessert came upon the table, which was very magnificent, the middle plate seemed to be the finest and fairest fruit (peaches) and I was much surprized, that none of the Ladies, were helped by the gentlemen fromthatplate: but my surprize was soon turned into astonishment! for the peaches suddenly burst forth, and played up the Saint's name, (St. Ann) in artificial fire-works! and many pretty devices of the same kind, were whirled off, from behind the coaches of her visitors, to which they were fixed, as the company left the house, which had a pretty effect, and was no indelicate way oftaking a French leave.

There is certainly among the French people of fashion an ease and good-breeding, which is very captivating, and not easily obtained, but by being bred up with them, from an early age; the whole body must be formed for it, as in dancing, while there is the pliability of youth; and where there is, as in France, a constant, early, and intimate correspondence between the two sexes. Men would be fierce and savage, were it not for the society of the other sex, as may be seen among the Turks and Moors, who must not visit their own wives, when other men's wives are with them. In France, the Lady's bed-chamber is always open, and she receives visits in bed, or up, with perfect ease. A noble Lord, late ambassador to this country, told me, that when he visited a young and beautiful woman of fashion, (I think too it was a first visit after marriage) she received him sitting up in her bed; and before he went, herfille de chambrebrought his LordshipMadame le Comtesse's shift elegantly festooned, which his Lordship had the honour to put over the Lady's head, as she sat in bed!—nor was there, by that favour, the least indecency meant; it was a compliment intended; and, as such only, received. Marks of favour ofthatsort, are not marks offurther favoursfrom a French Lady.

In this vast city of amusements, among theother arts, I cannot help pointing out to your particular notice,Richlieu's monument in theSorbonne, as an inimitable piece of modern sculptureGbyGirardeau; andMadame la Valliere'sfull-length portrait byle Brun: She was, you know, mistress toLewisthe XIVth, but retired to the convent, in which the picture now is, and where she lived in repentance and sorrow above thirty years.H

GVoltairesays, this monument is not sufficiently noticed by strangers.HMadame Valliere, during her retirement, being told of the death of one of her sons, replied, "I should rather grieve for his birth, than his death."

GVoltairesays, this monument is not sufficiently noticed by strangers.

HMadame Valliere, during her retirement, being told of the death of one of her sons, replied, "I should rather grieve for his birth, than his death."

Theconnoisseurssurely can find no reasonable fault with the monumental artist; but they do, I think, withle Brun; the drapery, they say, is too full, and that she is overcharged with garments; but fulness of dress, adds not only dignity, but decency, to the person of a fine woman, who meant (or the painter for her) to hide, not to expose her charms.

If fulness be a fault, it is a fault thatGainsborough,Hoare,Pine,Reynolds, and many other of our modern geniuses areguilty of; and if it besin, the best judges will acquit them for committing it, where dignity is to be considered.

Madame Valliereappears to have been scattering about her jewels, is tearing her hair, crying, and looking up to the heavens, which seem bursting forth a tempest over her head. The picture is well imagined, and finely executed.

I found upon the bulk of aportable shopinParis, a most excellent engraving from this picture,Iand which carried me directly to visit the original; it is indeed stained and dirty, but it is infinitely superior to a later engraving which now hangs up in all the print shops, and I suppose is from the first plate, which was done soon after the picture was finished. Under it are written the following ingenious, tho' I fear, rather impious lines:

Magdala dam gemmas, baccisque monile coruscumProjicit, ac formæ detrahit arma suæ:Dum vultum lacrymis et lumina turbat; amorisMirare insidias! hac capit arte Deum.

Magdala dam gemmas, baccisque monile coruscum

Projicit, ac formæ detrahit arma suæ:

Dum vultum lacrymis et lumina turbat; amoris

Mirare insidias! hac capit arte Deum.

IIn the possession of Mr.Gainsborough.

Shall I attempt to unfold this writer's meaning? Yes, I will, that my friend atOxfordmay laugh, and do it as it ought to be done.

I.The pearls and gems, her beauty's arms,See sadValliereforegoes;And now assumes far other charmsSuperior still to those.II.The tears that flow adown her cheek,Than gems are brighter things;For these an earthly Monarch seek,But those theKingof Kings.

The pearls and gems, her beauty's arms,

See sadValliereforegoes;

And now assumes far other charms

Superior still to those.

The tears that flow adown her cheek,

Than gems are brighter things;

For these an earthly Monarch seek,

But those theKingof Kings.

This seems to have been the author's thought, if he thoughtchastely.—Shall I try again?

The pearls and gems her beauty's arms,See sadValliereforegoes:Yet still those tears have other charms,Superior far to those:With those she gained an earthly Monarch's love:With these she wins theKingof Kings above.

The pearls and gems her beauty's arms,

See sadValliereforegoes:

Yet still those tears have other charms,

Superior far to those:

With those she gained an earthly Monarch's love:

With these she wins theKingof Kings above.

Yet, after all, I do suspect, that the author meant more than evento sneera little atpoor Madam Valliere; but, as I dislike common-place poetry, (and poetry, as you see, dislikesme) I will endeavour to give you the literal meaning, according to my conception, and then you will see whether ourjoint witsjump together.

WhileMagdalenethrows by her bracelets, adorned with gems and pearls, and (thus) disarms her beauty: while tears confound her countenance and eyes,

With wonder mark the stratagems of love,With this she captivates theGodabove.

With wonder mark the stratagems of love,

With this she captivates theGodabove.

The impious insinuation of the Latin lines, is the reason, I suppose, why they were omitted under the more modern impression of this fine print, and very middling French poetry superseding them.

Paris.

If you do not useHerreis' bills, I recommend to you atParis, a French, rather than an English banker; I have found the former more profitable, and most convenient. I had, ten years since, a letter of credit onSir John Lambert, for £300, fromMess. Hoares. TheKnightthought proper, however, to refuse the payment of a twenty pound draft I gave upon him; though I had not drawn more than half my credit out of his hands.Mons. Mary, on whom I had a draft from the same respectable house, this year will not dosuch things; but on the contrary, be ready to serve and oblige strangers to the utmost of his power: he speaks and writes English very well, and will prove an agreeable and useful acquaintance to a stranger inParis. His sister too, who lives with him, will be no less so to the female part of your family. His house is inRue Saint Sauveur.

The English bankers pay in silver, and it is necessary to take a wheel-barrow with you to bring it away; a small bag will do at the French bankers'.

There is as much difference between the bankers ofLondonand bankers inParis, as between a rotten apple and a sound one. You can hardly get a word from a London banker, but you are sure of getting your money; inParis, you will getwordsenough, and civil ones too. Remember, however, I am speaking only of the treatment I have experienced. There may be, and are, no doubt, English bankers atParisof great worth, and respectable characters.

It is not reckoned very decent to frequent coffee-houses atParis; but the politeness ofMonsieurandMadame Felix, au caffe de Conti, opposite thePont neuf, and the English news-papers, render their house a pleasant circumstance to me; and it is by much the best, and best situated, of any inParis, au vois le monde.

I am astonished, that where such an infinite number of people live in so small a compass, (forParisis by no means so large asLondon) that they should suffer the dead to be buried in the manner they do, or within the city. There are several burial pits inParis, of a prodigious size and depth, in which the dead bodies are laid, side by side, without any earth being put over them till the ground tier is full; then, and not till then, a small layer of earth covers them, and another layer of dead comes on, till by layer upon layer, and dead upon dead, the hole is filled with a mass of human corruption, enough to breed a plague; these places are enclosed, it is true, within high walls; but nevertheless, the air cannot beimprovedby it; and the idea of such an assemblage of putrifying bodies, in one grave, so thinly covered, is very disagreeable. The burials in churches too, often prove fatal to the priests and people who attend; but every body, and every thing inParis, is so much alive, that not a soul thinks about the dead.

I wish I had been born a Frenchman.—Frenchmen live as if they were never to die. Englishmen die alltheir lives; and yet asLewisthe XIVth said, "I don't think it is so difficult a matter to die, as men generally imagine, when they try in earnest."

I must tell you before I leaveParis, that I stept over toMarli, to see the Queen; I had seen the King nine years ago; but he was not then a King over eight millions of people, and the finest country under the sun; yet he does not seem to lay so much stress upon his mighty power as might be expected from so young a prince, but appears grave and thoughtful. I am told he attends much to business, and endeavours to make his subjects happy. His resolution to be inoculated, immediately after succeeding to such a kingdom, is a proof of his having a great share of fortitude. In England such a determination would have been looked upon with indifference; but in France, where the bulk of the people do not believe that it secures the patient from a second attack; where the clergy in general consider it unfavourable, even in a religious light; and where the physical people, for want of practice, do not understand the management of the distemper, so as it is known in England; I may venture to say, without being charged with flattery, that it was an heroic resolution: add to this, the King knowing, that if his subjects followed his example, it must be chiefly done by their own surgeons and physicians, he put himself under their management alone, though I thinkSuttonwas then atParis.

The Queen is a fine figure, handsome, and very sprightly, dresses in the presentgoutof head dress, and without a handkerchief, and thereby displays a most lovely neck.

I saw in a china shop atParis, the figure of the King and Queen finely executed, and very like, in china: the King is playing on the harp, and the Queen dropping her work to listen to the harmony. The two figures, about a foot high, were placed in an elegant apartment, and thetoute ensemblewas the prettiest toy I ever beheld: the price thirty guineas.

I shall leave this town in a few days, and take the well-known and well-beatenroute AngloisforCalais, thro'Chantilly,Amiens, andBoulogne, and then I shall have twice crossed this mighty kingdom.

Calais.

I am now returned to the point from whence I sat out, and rather within the revolution of one year; which, upon the whole, though I met with many untoward circumstances, has been the most interesting and entertaining year of my whole life, and will afford me matter of reflection for the little which remains unfinished of that journey we must all take sooner or later, a journey from whence no traveller returns.—And having said so much of myself, I am sure you will be glad to change the subject from man to beast, especially to such a one as I have now to speak of.

I told you, when I set out, that I had bought a handsome-looking English horse for seven guineas, but a little touched in his wind; I can now inform you, that when I left this town, he was rather thin, and had a sore back and shoulder; both which, by care and caution; were soon healed, and that he is returned fair and fat, and not a hair out of its place, though he drew two grown persons, two children, (one of thirteen the other ten years old) a very heavy French cabriolet, and all our baggage, nay, almost all my goods, chattels, and worldly property whatever, outward and homeward, except betweenCetteandBarcelona,going, andLyonsand this townreturning!I will point out to you one of his day's work, by which you will be able to judge of his general power of working: AtPerpignan, I had, to save him, hired post-horses to the first town in Spain, as I thought it might be too much for him to ascend and descend thePyreneesin one day; beside sixteen miles to the foot of them, on this side, and three toJonquireon the other; but after the horses were put to, the post-master required me to take two men toBoulou, in order to hold the chaise, and to prevent its overturning in crossing the river near the village. Such a flagrant attempt to impose, determined me to take neither horses nor men; and at seven o'clock I set off withCallee(that is my houyhnhnm's name) and arrived in three hours atBoulou, a paltry village, but in a situation fit for the palace ofAugustus!

So far from wanting men fromPerpignanto conduct my chaise over the river, the whole village were, upon our arrival, in motion after thejob. We, however, passed it, without any assistance but our own weight to keep the wheels down, and the horse's strength and sturdiness, to drag us through it. In about three hours more we passed over the summit of this great chain of the universe; and in two more, arrived atJonquire: near which village my horse had a little bait of fresh mown hay, the first, and last, he eat in that kingdom. And when I tell you that this faithful, and (for a great part of my journey) only servant I had, never made afaux pas, never was so tired, but that upon a pinch, he could have gone a league or two farther; nor ever was ill, lame, physicked, or bled, since he was mine; you will agree, that either he is an uncommon good horse, or that his master is a good groom! Indeed I will say that, however fatigued, wet,hundry, or droughty I was, I never partook of any refreshment till my horse had every comfort the inn could afford. I carried a wooden bowl to give him water, and never passed a brook without asking him to drink.—And, as he has been my faithful servant, I am now his; for he lives under the same roof with me, and does nothing but eat, drink, and sleep.—As he never sees me nor hears my voice, without taking some affectionate notice of me, I ventured to ask himtenderly, whether he thought he should be able to draw two of the same party next year toRome?No tongue could more plainly express his willingness! he answered me,in French, indeed,we-we-we-we-we, said he; so perhaps he might not be sincere, tho' he never yet deceived me. If, however, he should not go, or should out-live me, which, is very probable, my dying request to you will be, to procure him a peaceful walk for the remainder of his days, within the park-walls of some humane private gentleman; though I flatter myself the following petition will saveyouthat trouble, andmethe concern of leaving him without that comfort which his faithful services merit.

A Faithful Servant's humble Petition,

Sheweth,

That your petitioner entered into the service of his present master, at an advanced age, and at a time too, that he laboured under a pulmonic disorder, deemed incurable; yet by gentle exercise, wholesome food, and kind usage, he has been enabled to accompany his master fromCalaistoArtois.Cambray,Rheims,St. Dezier,Dijon,Challons,Macon,Lyons,Pont St. Esprit,Pont du Garde,Nismes,Montpellier,Cette,Narbonne,PerpignanthePyreneesBarcelona,Montserrat,Arles,Marseilles,Toulouse,Avignon,Aix,Valence,Paris, and back toCalais, in the course of one year: And that your petitioner has acquitted himself so much to his master's satisfaction, that he has promised to take him next year toRome; and upon his return, to get him asine-cureplace for the remainder of his days; and, as your petitioner can produce a certificate of his honesty, sobriety, steadiness, and obedience to his master; and wishes to throw himself under the protection of a man of fortune, honour and humanity, he is encouraged by his said master to make this his humble prayer to you, who says that to above three hundred letters he has lately written, to ask a small boon for himself, he did not receive above three answers that gave him the pleasure your's did though he had twenty times better pretensions to an hundred and fifty. And as your petitioner hasseen a great deal of the world, as well as his master, and has always observed, that such men who are kind to their fellow-creatures, are kind also to brutes; permit an humble brute to throw himself at your feet, and to ask upon his return fromRomealean-toshed, under your park-wall, that he may end his days in his native country, and afford arepas, at his death, to the dogs of a Man who feeds the poor, cloaths the naked, and who knows how to make use of the noblest privilege which a large fortune can bestow,—that of softening the calamities of mankind, and making glad the hearts of those who are oppressed with misfortunes.—Your petitioner, therefore, who has never, been upon hisknees beforeto any man living, humbly prays that he may be admitted within your park-pail, and that he may partake of that bounty which you bestow in common to your own servants, who, by age or misfortunes are past their labour; in which request your petitioner's master impowers him to use his name and joint prayer with

Callee.

I do hereby certify, that nothing is advanced in the above petition, but what is strictly true, and that if the petitioner had been able to express himself properly, his merits and good qualities would have appeared to much greater advantage, as well as his services; as he has omitted many towns he attended his master to, besides a variety of smaller journies; that he is cautious, wary, spirited, diligent, faithful, and honest; that he is not nice, but eats, with appetite, and good temper, whatever is set before him; and that he is in all respects worthy of that asylum he asks, and which his master laments more on his account than his own, that he cannot give him.

Philip Thicknesse.

Calais, the 4th of Nov.1776.

Calais.

On our way here, we spent two or three days atChantilly, one, of fiftyChatteausbelonging to thePrince of Conde: for, though we had visited this delightful place, two or three times, some years ago, yet, beside its natural beauties, there is always something new. One spot we found particularly pleasing, nay flattering to an Englishman; it is calledl'Isle d'Amour, in which there are some thatched cottages, a water-mill, a garden, shrubbery, &c. in the English taste, and the whole is, in every respect, well executed. The dairy is neat, and the milkmaid not ugly, who has her little villa, as well as the miller. There is also a tea-house, a billiard-room, an eating-room, and some other little buildings, all externally in the English village stile, which give the lawn, and serpentine walks that surround them, a very pastoral appearance. The eating-room is particularly well fancied, being covered within, and so painted as to produce a good idea of a close arbor; the several windows, which are pierced through the sides, have such forms, as the fantastic turn of the bodies of the painted trees admit of; and the building is in a manner surrounded with natural trees; the room, when illuminated for the Prince's supper, has not only a very pleasing effect, but is a well executed deception, for the real trees falling into perspective with those which are painted, through the variety of odd-shaped windows, has a very natural, and consequently a very pleasing effect; but what adds greatly to the deception, is, that at each corner of the room the floor is opened, and lumps of earth thrown up, which bear, in full perfection, a great variety of flowers and flowering shrubs. We had the honour to be admitted while the Prince ofConde, the Duke and Duchess ofBourbon, the Princess ofMonaco, and two or three other ladies and gentlemen were at supper; a circumstance which became rather painful to us, as it seemed to occasion some to the company, and particularly to the Prince, who inquired who we were, and took pains to shew every sort of politeness he could to strangers he knew nothing of. The supper was elegantly served on plate; but there seemed to me too many servants round the table. The conversation was very little, and very reserved. I do not recollect that I saw scarce a smile during the whole time of supper.

The Prince is a sprightly, agreeable man, something in person likeLord Barrington; and theDukeofBourbonso like his father, that it was difficult to know the son from the father.

TheDuchessofBourbonis young, handsome, and a most accomplished lady.

During the supper, a good band of music played; but it was all wind instruments. Mr.Lejeune, the first bassoon, is a most capital performer indeed.

After the dessert had been served up about ten minutes, the Princess ofMonacorose from the table, as did all the company, and suddenly turning from it, each lady and gentleman's servant held them a water glass, which they used with great delicacy, and then retired.

The Princess ofMonacois separated from the Prince her husband; yet she has beauty enough for any Prince in Europe, and brought fortune enough for two or three.

The Duchess ofBourbonhad rather a low head-dress, and without any feather, or, that I could perceive,rouge; the Princess ofMonaco'shead-dress was equally plain; the two other ladies, whose rank I do not recollect, wore black caps, and hats high dressed. There were eight persons sat down to table, and I think, about twenty-five servants, in and out of livery, attended.

The next day, we were admitted to see the Prince's cabinet of natural and artificial curiosities; and as I intimated my design of publishing some account of my journey, the Prince was pleased to allow me as much time as I chose, to examine his very large and valuable collection; among which is a case of gold medallions,(72) of the Kings of France, in succession, a great variety of birds and beasts, ores, minerals, petrifactions, gems, cameos, &c. There is also a curious cabinet, lately presented to the Prince by the King of Denmark; and near it stood a most striking representation, in wax, of a present said to beserved upto a late unfortunate Queen; it is the head and right hand ofCount Struensee, as they were taken off after the execution; the head and hand lie upon a silver dish, with the blood and blood vessels too, well executed; never surely was any thing sosadly, yet so finely done. I defy the nicest eye, however near, to distinguish it (suppose the head laid upon a pillow in a bed) from nature; nor must Mrs.Wright, or any of the workers in wax I have ever yet seen, pretend to a tythe of the perfection in that art, with the man who made this head.—Sad as the subject is, I could not withstand the temptation of asking permission to take a copy of it; and fortunately, I found the man who made it was then atParis,—nor has he executed his work for me less perfect than that he made for the Prince.—I have been thus particular in mentioning this piece of art, because, of the kind, I will venture to say, it is not onlydeadlyfine, but one of the most perfect deceptions ever seen.

When you, or any of the ladies and gentlemen who have honoured this poor performance of mine with their names, or their family or friends, pass this way, I shall be happy to embrace that occasion, to shew, that I have not said more of this inimitable piece of art, than it merits; nor do I speak thus positively from my own judgment, but have the concurrent opinion of many men of unquestionable judgment, that it is a master-piece of art; and among the rest, our worthy and valuable friend Mr.Sharp, of theOld Jewry.

Before we leftChantilly, we had a little concert, to whichmy trainadded one performer; and as it was the only string instrument, it was no small addition.

The day we left this charming place, we found the Prince and all his company under tents and pavilions on the road-side, from whence they were preparing to follow the hounds.

AtAmiens, there is in theHotel de Ville, a little antique god in bronze, which was found, about four years ago, near a Roman urn, in the earth, which is very well worthy of the notice of aconnoisseur; but it is such as cannot decently be described; the person in whose custody it is, permitted me to take an impression from it in wax; but I am notquite so gooda hand at waxwork as the artist mentioned above, and yet my little houshold-god has some merit, a merit too that was not discovered till three months after it had been fixed in theHotel de Ville; and the discovery was made by a female, not a male,connoisseur.

It is said, that a Hottentot cannot be so civilized, but that he has always a hankering after his savage friends, anddried chitterlins; and, that gypsies prefer their roving life, to any other, a circumstance that once did, but now no longer surprizes me; for I feel such a desire to wander again, that I am impatient till the winter is past, when I intend to visitGeneva, and make the tour of Italy; and if you can find me cut a sensible valetudinarian or two, of either sex, or any age, who will travel as we do, to see what is to be seen, to make a little stay, wherethe place, orthe peopleinvite us to do so, who can dine on a cold partridge, in a hot day, under a shady tree; and travel in alandau and one, we will keep them atable d'hote, that shall be more pleasant than expensive, and which will produce more health and spirits, than half the drugs of Apothecary's Hall.

If God delights so much in variety, as all things animate and inanimate sufficiently prove, no wonder that man should do so too: and I have now been so accustomed to move, though slowly, that I intend to creep on to myjourney's end, by which means I may live to have been an inhabitant of every town almost in Europe, and die, as I have lately (and wish I had always) lived, a free citizen of the whole world, slave to no sect, nor subject to any King. Yet, I would not be considered as one wishing to promote that disposition in others; for I must confess, that it is in England alone, where an innocent and virtuous man can sit down and enjoy the blessings of liberty and his own chearful hearth, in full confidence that no earthly power can disturb it; and the best reason which can be offered in favour of Englishmen visiting other kingdoms, is, to enable them, upon their return, to know how to enjoy the inestimable blessings of their own.

For what should I cross the streight which divides us, though it were buthalfseven leagues? we should only meet to part again, and purchase pleasure, as most pleasures are purchased, too dearly; I have dropt some heavy tears, (ideally at least) over poorBuckle'sJgrave, and it is all one to a man, now withGod! on what King's soil such atribute as thatis paid: had some men of all nations known the goodness of his heart as we did, some men of all nations would grieve as we do. When I frequentedMorgan'sKI used him as a touch-stone, to try the hearts of other men upon; for, as he was not rich, he was out of the walk of knaves and flatterers, and such men, who were moot prejudiced in his favour at first sight, and coveted not his company after a little acquaintance, I always avoided as beings made of base metal. It was for this reason I despised that ****** ****, (you know who I mean) for you too have seen himsnarl,and bite,and play the dog, even toBuckle!

JWilliam Buckle, Esq.KMorgan'sCoffee-House, Grove,Bath.

JWilliam Buckle, Esq.

KMorgan'sCoffee-House, Grove,Bath.

Our Sunday night's tea club, round his chearful hearth, is now for ever dissolved, andSharpeandRyehave administered their last friendly offices with a potion of sorrow.

Were I the hermit ofSt. Catharine, I would chissel his name as deeply into one of my pine-heads, as his virtues are impressed on my memory. Though I have losthis guinea, I will not lose his name; he looked down with pity upon me when here; who can say he may not do so still? I should be an infidel, did not a few such men as hekeep me back.

And now, my dear Sir, after the many trifling subjects in this very long correspondence with you, I will avail myself of this good one, to close it, on the noblest work of GOD,an honest Man. The loss of such a friend, is sufficient to induce one to lay aside all pursuits, but that of following his example, and to prepare to follow him.

If you should ever follow mehere, I flatter myself you will find, that I have, to the best of my poor abilities, made such a sketch ofmen and thingson this side of the water, that you will be able to discover some likeness to the originals. A bad painter often hits the general features, though he fall ever so short of the graces ofTitian, or theMorbidezzaofGuido. I am sure, therefore, you and every man of candour, will make allowances for the many inaccuracies, defects, &c. which I am sensible these letters abound with, tho' I am incapable of correcting them. My journey, you know was not made, as most travellers' are, to indulge in luxury, or in pursuit of pleasures, but to soften sorrow, and to recover from a blow, which came from a mighty hand indeed; but ahandstillmore mighty, has enabled me to resist it, and to return in health, spirits, and with that peace of mind which noearthly powercan despoil me of, and with that friendship and regard for you, which will only cease, when I cease to be

Philip Thicknesse.

Calais, Nov. 4,1776.

P.S. I foundBerwick'sregiment on duty in this town: it is commanded byMons. le Duc de Fitz-James, and a number of Irish gentlemen, my countrymen, (for so I will call them.) You may easily imagine, that men who possess the natural hospitality of their own country, with the politeness and good-breeding of this, must be very agreeable acquaintance in general: But I am bound to go farther, and to say, that I am endeared to them by marks of true friendship. The King of France, nor any Prince in Europe, cannot boast of troops better disciplined; nor is the King insensible of their merit, for I have lately seen a letter written by the King's command fromComte de St. Germain, addressed to the officers of one of these corps, whereby it appears, that the King is truly sensible of their distinguished merit; for braver men there are not in any service:—What an acquisition to France! what a loss to Britain!

As theMarquisofGrimaldiis retired from his public character, I am tempted to send you a specimen of his private one, which flattering as it is to me, and honourable to himself, I should have withheld, had his Excellency continued first minister of Spain; by which you will see, that while my own countrymen united to set me in a suspicious light, (though they thought otherwise) the ministers politeness and humanity made them tremble at the duplicity of their conduct; and had I been disposed to have acted the same sinister part they did, some of them might have been reminded of an old Spanish proverb,

"A las màlas lénguas tigéras"

"Muy Sor. mio. Por la carta deiodel corrte. veo su feliz llegada a esta ciudad, en donde habia tomado una casa, y por las cartas que me incluye, y debuelbo, reconosco los terminos honrados y recomendables con que ha efectuado su salida de Inglaterra, cosa que yo nunca podria dudar.

"Deseo que a V.S. le va' ya muy bien en este Reyno, y espero que me avifara el tiempo que se propusiere detener en Barcelona, y tambien quando se verificara su yda a Valencia: cuyo Pais se ha creydo el mas propio para su residencia estable, por la suavidad del clima y demas circunstantias.—V.S. me hallara pronto a complacerle y sevirle en lo que se le ofrezca: que es quendo en el dia puedo decirle, referiendome ademas a mis cartas precedentes communicadas por medio de ... Dios quiere a V.S. MocodoSrel 14 Novre. de 1775."B L.M. en. S.Su mayor feror.El MarqsdeGrimaldi,A Don Felipe Thickness."

A MadameTHICKNESSE.

Voila, Madame, quelques amusemens de ma plume, vous avez paru les desirer, mon empressement a vous obeir sera le merite de ces legeres productions; la premiere a eu assez de succes en France, je doute qu'elle puisse en avoir un pareil en Angleterre, parce que le mot n'a peut-etre pas la meme signification ce que nous appellons Grelot est une petite cochette fermee que l'on attache aux hochets des enfans pour les amuser; dans le sens metaphysique on en fait un des attributs de la folie: Ice je l'employe comme embleme de gaiete et d'enfance. Le Pritems est une Epitre ecrite de la campagne a un de mes amis; j'etois sous le charme de la creation, pour ainsi dire; les vers en font d'une mesuretres difficile.

La description de Courcelles est celle d'une terre qu'avoit ma mere, et ou j'ai passe toute ma jeunesse; enchantee de son paysage, et de la vie champetre que j'aime passion, je l'adressois a un honnete homme de Rheims que j'appellois par plaisanterie mon Papa: ce que j'ai de meilleur dans mon porte-feuille, ce sont des chansons pour mon mari; comme je l'aime parfaitement mon cœur m'a servi de muse: mais cette tendresse toujours si delicieuse aux interesses ne peut plaire a ceux qui ne le sont pas. Quand j'auri l'honneur de vous revoir, Madame, je vous communiquerai mon recueil, et vous jugerez. Recevez les hommages respectueux de mon mari, et daignezfaire agreér nos vœux a Mons. Tiennerse; je n'ai point encore reçu les jolies poches, je pars demain pour la campagne, et j'y resterai quinze jours; nous avons des chaleurs cruelles, Messrs. les Anglois qui sont ici en souffrent beaucoup, j'ai l'honneur d'etre avec le plus inviolable attachement,

Madame,Votre tres humbleet tres obeissante servante,De Courcelles Desjardins.28 Juillet, 1776.

Epitre au Grelot.De la folie aimable lotDon plus brillant que la richesse,Et que je nommerai sagesseSi je ne craignois le fagot,C'est toi que je chante ô Grelot!Hochet heureux de tous les agesL'homme est à toi dès le maillot,Mais dans tes nombreux appanagesJamais tu ne comptas le sot:De tes sons mitigés le sageEn tapinois se rejouïtTandis que l'insensé jouïtDu plaisir de faire tapage.Plus envié que dédaignéPar cette espece atrabilaireQui pense qu'un air refrognéLa met au dessus du vulgaire,La privation de tes bienfaitsSeule fait naître sa satyre;Charmante idole du FrançoisChez lui réside ton empire:Tes détracteurs font les pedans,Les avares et les amansDe cette gloire destructiveQui peuple l'infernale rive,Et remplit l'univers d'excès.L'ambitieux dans son délireN'eprouve que de noirs accès,Le genre-humain seroit en paix,Si les conquérans savoient rire.Contre ce principe évidentC'est en vain qu'un censeur declame,Le mal ne se fait en riant.Si de toi provient l'epigrame,Son tour heureux ne'est que plaisantEt ne nuit jamais qu'au méchantQue sa conscience décèle.Nomme t-on la rose cruelleLorsqu'un mal-adroit la cueillantSe blesse lui-même au tranchantDe l'epine qu'avec prudenceNature fit pour sa défense.Tes simples et faciles jeuxProlongent dit-on notre enfanceCenseur, que te faut-il de mieux!Des abus, le plus dangereux,Le plus voisin de la démenceEst de donner trop d'importanceA ces chiméres dont les cieuxOnt composé notre existenceNotre devoir est d'être heureuxA moins de frais, à moins de vœuxDe l'homme est toute la science.Par tes sons toujours enchanteursTu fais fuir la froide vieillesseOu plutôt la couvrant de fleursTu lui rends l'air de la jeunesse.Du temps tu trompes la lenteur,Par toi chaque heure est une fêteDémocritefut ton DocteurAnacréonfut ton Prophête;Tous deux pour sages reconnus,L'un riant des humains abusTe fit sonner dans sa retraiteL'autre chantant à la guingetteTe donna pour pomme àVenusAprès eux ma simple musetteT'offre ses accens ingénusCharmant Grelot, sur ta clochetteJe veux moduler tous mes vers,Sois toujours la douce amusetteSource de mes plaisirs diversHeureux qui te garde en cachetteEt se passe l'univers.

De la folie aimable lot

Don plus brillant que la richesse,

Et que je nommerai sagesse

Si je ne craignois le fagot,

C'est toi que je chante ô Grelot!

Hochet heureux de tous les ages

L'homme est à toi dès le maillot,

Mais dans tes nombreux appanages

Jamais tu ne comptas le sot:

De tes sons mitigés le sage

En tapinois se rejouït

Tandis que l'insensé jouït

Du plaisir de faire tapage.

Plus envié que dédaigné

Par cette espece atrabilaire

Qui pense qu'un air refrogné

La met au dessus du vulgaire,

La privation de tes bienfaits

Seule fait naître sa satyre;

Charmante idole du François

Chez lui réside ton empire:

Tes détracteurs font les pedans,

Les avares et les amans

De cette gloire destructive

Qui peuple l'infernale rive,

Et remplit l'univers d'excès.

L'ambitieux dans son délire

N'eprouve que de noirs accès,

Le genre-humain seroit en paix,

Si les conquérans savoient rire.

Contre ce principe évident

C'est en vain qu'un censeur declame,

Le mal ne se fait en riant.

Si de toi provient l'epigrame,

Son tour heureux ne'est que plaisant

Et ne nuit jamais qu'au méchant

Que sa conscience décèle.

Nomme t-on la rose cruelle

Lorsqu'un mal-adroit la cueillant

Se blesse lui-même au tranchant

De l'epine qu'avec prudence

Nature fit pour sa défense.

Tes simples et faciles jeux

Prolongent dit-on notre enfance

Censeur, que te faut-il de mieux!

Des abus, le plus dangereux,

Le plus voisin de la démence

Est de donner trop d'importance

A ces chiméres dont les cieux

Ont composé notre existence

Notre devoir est d'être heureux

A moins de frais, à moins de vœux

De l'homme est toute la science.

Par tes sons toujours enchanteurs

Tu fais fuir la froide vieillesse

Ou plutôt la couvrant de fleurs

Tu lui rends l'air de la jeunesse.

Du temps tu trompes la lenteur,

Par toi chaque heure est une fête

Démocritefut ton Docteur

Anacréonfut ton Prophête;

Tous deux pour sages reconnus,

L'un riant des humains abus

Te fit sonner dans sa retraite

L'autre chantant à la guingette

Te donna pour pomme àVenus

Après eux ma simple musette

T'offre ses accens ingénus

Charmant Grelot, sur ta clochette

Je veux moduler tous mes vers,

Sois toujours la douce amusette

Source de mes plaisirs divers

Heureux qui te garde en cachette

Et se passe l'univers.

Le Printems.Epitre à Mons. D——Déjà dans la plaineOn ressent l'haleineDu léger Zephir;Déja la natureSourit au plaisir,La jeune verdureA l'eclat du jourOppose la teinteQue cherit l'amourFuyant la contrainte,Au pied des ormeaux;Ma muse naïveReprend ses pipeaux;Sur la verte riveAux tendres echosElle dit ces mots.Volupté sureBien sans pareil!O doux réveilDe la nature!Que l'ame pureDans nos guéretsAvec yvresseVoit tes attraits;De la tendresseEt de la paixLes doux bienfaitsSur toute espéceVont s'epandant,Et sont l'aimantDont la magieEnchaîne et lieTout l'universL'homme perversDans sa maliceFerme son cœurA ces delices,Et de l'erreurDes goûts facticesFait son bonheurLa noire envieFille d'orgueil,Chaque furieJusqu'au circueil,Tisse sa vie.Les vains désirsLes vrais plaisirsSont antipodes;A ces pagodesCulte se rend,L'oeil s'y méprendEt perd de vuëFelicité,La DéitéLa plus couruëLa moins connuëSimple réduitEt solitaireJadis construitPar le mystéreEst aujourd'huiSa residenceiLa bienveillance.Au front sereinDe la déesseEst la Prêtresse;Les ris badinsSont sacristains,Joyeux fidelles,De fleurs nouvellesOffrent les dons.Tendres chansonsTribut du Zele,Jointes au sonsDe Philoméle,De son autelSont le rituelDans son empireTelle est la loi,"Aimer et rireDe bonne foy."Cet EvangilePeu difficileDu vrai bonheurSeroit auteurSi pour apôtreIl vous avoit;En vain tout autreLe prêcheroit.La colonieDu double montDu vraie génieVous a fait don,Sans nul capriceEntrez en lice,Et de PassifVenant actifPour la DéesseEnchanteresseQui dans ces lieuxNous rend heureuxDonnez moi roseNouvelle éclose:Du doux PrintemsHâtez le temsIl etincelleEn vos écrits,Qu'il renouvelleMes Esprits.Adieu beau Sire,Pour ce délireLe sentimentEst mon excuse.S'il vous amuseUn seul moment,Et vous rapelleUn cœur fidelleDepuis cent ans,Comme le vôtreEn tous les temsN'ai désir autre.

Epitre à Mons. D——

Déjà dans la plaine

On ressent l'haleine

Du léger Zephir;

Déja la nature

Sourit au plaisir,

La jeune verdure

A l'eclat du jour

Oppose la teinte

Que cherit l'amour

Fuyant la contrainte,

Au pied des ormeaux;

Ma muse naïve

Reprend ses pipeaux;

Sur la verte rive

Aux tendres echos

Elle dit ces mots.

Volupté sureBien sans pareil!O doux réveilDe la nature!Que l'ame pureDans nos guéretsAvec yvresseVoit tes attraits;De la tendresseEt de la paixLes doux bienfaitsSur toute espéceVont s'epandant,Et sont l'aimantDont la magieEnchaîne et lieTout l'universL'homme perversDans sa maliceFerme son cœurA ces delices,Et de l'erreurDes goûts facticesFait son bonheurLa noire envieFille d'orgueil,Chaque furieJusqu'au circueil,Tisse sa vie.Les vains désirsLes vrais plaisirsSont antipodes;A ces pagodesCulte se rend,L'oeil s'y méprendEt perd de vuëFelicité,La DéitéLa plus couruëLa moins connuëSimple réduitEt solitaireJadis construitPar le mystéreEst aujourd'huiSa residenceiLa bienveillance.Au front sereinDe la déesseEst la Prêtresse;Les ris badinsSont sacristains,Joyeux fidelles,De fleurs nouvellesOffrent les dons.Tendres chansonsTribut du Zele,Jointes au sonsDe Philoméle,De son autelSont le rituelDans son empireTelle est la loi,"Aimer et rireDe bonne foy."Cet EvangilePeu difficileDu vrai bonheurSeroit auteurSi pour apôtreIl vous avoit;En vain tout autreLe prêcheroit.La colonieDu double montDu vraie génieVous a fait don,Sans nul capriceEntrez en lice,Et de PassifVenant actifPour la DéesseEnchanteresseQui dans ces lieuxNous rend heureuxDonnez moi roseNouvelle éclose:Du doux PrintemsHâtez le temsIl etincelleEn vos écrits,Qu'il renouvelleMes Esprits.Adieu beau Sire,Pour ce délireLe sentimentEst mon excuse.S'il vous amuseUn seul moment,Et vous rapelleUn cœur fidelleDepuis cent ans,Comme le vôtreEn tous les temsN'ai désir autre.

Volupté sure

Bien sans pareil!

O doux réveil

De la nature!

Que l'ame pure

Dans nos guérets

Avec yvresse

Voit tes attraits;

De la tendresse

Et de la paix

Les doux bienfaits

Sur toute espéce

Vont s'epandant,

Et sont l'aimant

Dont la magie

Enchaîne et lie

Tout l'univers

L'homme pervers

Dans sa malice

Ferme son cœur

A ces delices,

Et de l'erreur

Des goûts factices

Fait son bonheur

La noire envie

Fille d'orgueil,

Chaque furie

Jusqu'au circueil,

Tisse sa vie.

Les vains désirs

Les vrais plaisirs

Sont antipodes;

A ces pagodes

Culte se rend,

L'oeil s'y méprend

Et perd de vuë

Felicité,

La Déité

La plus couruë

La moins connuë

Simple réduit

Et solitaire

Jadis construit

Par le mystére

Est aujourd'hui

Sa residencei

La bienveillance.

Au front serein

De la déesse

Est la Prêtresse;

Les ris badins

Sont sacristains,

Joyeux fidelles,

De fleurs nouvelles

Offrent les dons.

Tendres chansons

Tribut du Zele,

Jointes au sons

De Philoméle,

De son autel

Sont le rituel

Dans son empire

Telle est la loi,

"Aimer et rire

De bonne foy."

Cet Evangile

Peu difficile

Du vrai bonheur

Seroit auteur

Si pour apôtre

Il vous avoit;

En vain tout autre

Le prêcheroit.

La colonie

Du double mont

Du vraie génie

Vous a fait don,

Sans nul caprice

Entrez en lice,

Et de Passif

Venant actif

Pour la Déesse

Enchanteresse

Qui dans ces lieux

Nous rend heureux

Donnez moi rose

Nouvelle éclose:

Du doux Printems

Hâtez le tems

Il etincelle

En vos écrits,

Qu'il renouvelle

Mes Esprits.

Adieu beau Sire,

Pour ce délire

Le sentiment

Est mon excuse.

S'il vous amuse

Un seul moment,

Et vous rapelle

Un cœur fidelle

Depuis cent ans,

Comme le vôtre

En tous les tems

N'ai désir autre.

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