_Oct. 31, 1802._
I left off at the Hôtel de Courlande. We were told there was a fine view
of Paris from the leads; and so indeed there is, and the first object
that struck us was the Telegraph at work! The first _voiture de remise_
(job-coach in plain English) into which we got, belonged to--whom do you
think?--to the Princess Elizabeth. The Abbé Edgeworth had probably been
in this very coach with her. The master of this house was one of the
King's guards, a Swiss. Our apartments are all on one floor. The day
after our arrival M. Delessert, he whom M. Pictet describes as a French
Rumford, invited us to spend the evening with his mother and sister. We
went: found an excellent house, a charming family, with whom we felt we
were perfectly acquainted after we had been in the room with them for
five minutes. Madame Delessert, [Footnote: The benevolence of the
generous Madame Delessert is said to be depicted in one of the stories
in Berquin's _Ami des Enfans._] the mother, an elderly lady of about
sixty, has the species of politeness and conversation that my Aunt
Ruxton has: I need not say how much I like her. Her daughter, Madame
Gautier, has fine large black eyes, very obliging and sensible, well
dressed, not at all naked: people need not be naked here unless they
choose it. Rousseau's _Letters on Botany_ were written for this lady; he
was a friend of the family. She has two fine children of eight and ten,
to whose education she devotes her time and talents. Her second brother,
François Delessert, about twenty, was educated chiefly by her, and does
her great credit, and what is better for her, is extremely fond of her:
he seems the darling of his mother, _François mon fils_ she calls him
every minute. In his countenance and manners he is something like Henry;
he has that sober kind of cheerfulness, that ingenuous openness, and
that modest, gentlemanlike ease which pleases without effort, and
without bustle. Madame Gautier does not live at Paris, but at a country
house at Passy, the Richmond of Paris, about two miles out of town. She
invited us to spend a day there, and a most pleasant day we passed. The
situation beautiful, the house furnished with elegance and good sense,
the society most agreeable. M. Delessert _père_, an old sensible man,
the rest of the family, and Madame de Pastoret, [Footnote: Madame de
Pastoret is the "Madame de Fleury" of Miss Edgeworth's story. She first
established infant schools in France.] a literary and fashionable lady,
with something of Mrs. Saunderson's best style of conversation: M. de
Pastoret, her husband, a man of diplomatic knowledge; Lord Henry Petty,
son of Lord Lansdowne, with whom my father had much conversation; the
Swiss Ambassador, whose name I will not attempt to spell; M. Dumont,
[Footnote: M. Pierre Etienne Louis Dumont, tutor to Lord Henry Petty
(afterwards the famous second Marquis of Lansdowne), had translated
Bentham's _Traités sur la Législation_, and _Théorie des Peines et des
Récompenses._ He became an intimate friend and much-valued critic of
Miss Edgeworth.] a Swiss gentleman, travelling with Lord Henry Petty,
very sensible and entertaining, I am sorry that he has since left Paris;
M. d'Etaing, of whom I know nothing; and last, but indeed not least, the
Abbé Morellet, [Footnote: The author of several works on political
economy and statistics; born 1727, died 1819.] of whom you have heard my
father speak. O! my dear Aunt Mary, how you would love that man, and we
need not be afraid of loving him, for he is near eighty. But it is
impossible to believe that he is so old when one either hears him speak,
or sees him move. He has all the vivacity, and feeling, and wit of
youth, and all the gentleness that youth ought to have. His conversation
is delightful, nothing too much or too little; sense, and gaiety, and
learning, and reason, and that perfect knowledge of the world which
mixes so well but so seldom with a knowledge of books. He invited us to
breakfast, and this morning we spent with him. My dearest Aunt Mary, I
do wish you had been with us; I know that you would have been so much
pleased. The house so convenient, so comfortable, so many inventions the
same as my father's. He has a sister living with him, Madame de
Montigny, an amiable, sensible woman: her daughter was married to
Marmontel, who died a few years ago: she alas! is not at Paris.
My father did not present any of his letters of introduction till
yesterday, because he wished that we should be masters and mistresses of
our own time to see sights before we saw people. We have been to
Versailles--melancholy magnificence--La petite Trianon: the poor Queen!
and at the Louvre, or as it is now called, La Musée, to see the
celebrated gallery of pictures. I was entertained, but tired with seeing
so many pictures, all to be admired, and all in so bad a light, that my
little neck was almost broken, and my little eyes almost strained out,
trying to see them. We were all extremely interested yesterday seeing
what are called Les Monuments Français--all the statues and monuments of
the great men of France, arranged according to their dates in the
apartments of the ancient Monastery des Augustins. Here we saw old Hugh
Capet, with his nose broken, and King Pepin, with his nose flattened by
time, and Catherine de Medicis, in full dress, but not in full beauty,
and Francis I., and dear Henry IV.
We have been to the Théâtre Français and to the Théâtre Feydau, both
fine houses: decorations, etc., superior to English: acting much
superior in comedy; in tragedy they bully, and rant, and throw
themselves into Academy attitudes too much.
R.L. EDGEWORTH _to_ MISS CHARLOTTE SNEYD.