PARIS, June 30, 1787.
On my return to Paris, it was among my first intentions to go to the
rue Chussée d'Antin, No. 17, and inquire after my friends whom I had
left there. I was told they were in England. And how do you like
England, Madam? I know your taste for the works of art gives you a
little disposition to Anglomania. Their mechanics certainly exceed all
others in some lines. But be just to your own nation. They have not
patience, it is true, to set rubbing a piece of steel from morning till
night, as a lethargic Englishman will do, full charged with porter. But
do not their benevolence, their cheerfulness, their amiability, when
compared with the growling temper and manners of the people among whom
you are, compensate their want of patience? I am in hopes that when the
splendor of their shops, which is all that is worth looking at in
London, shall have lost their charm of novelty, you will turn a wistful
eye to the people of Paris, and find that you cannot be so happy with
any others. The Bois de Boulogne invites you earnestly to come and
survey its beautiful verdure, to retire to its umbrage from the heats
of the season. I was through it to-day, as I am every day. Every tree
charged me with this invitation to you. Passing by la Muette, it wished
for you as a mistress. You want a country house. This is for sale; and
in the Bois de Boulogne, which I have always insisted to be most worthy
of your preference. Come then, and buy it. If I had had confidence in
your speedy return, I should have embarrassed you in earnest with my
little daughter. But an impatience to have her with me, after her
separation from her friends, added to a respect for your ease, has
induced me to send a servant for her.
I tell you no news, because you have correspondents infinitely more _au
fait_ of the details of Paris than I am. And I offer you no services,
because I hope you will come as soon as the letter could, which should
command them. Be assured, however, that nobody is more disposed to
render them, nor entertains for you a more sincere and respectful
attachment, than him who, after charging you with his compliments to
Monsieur de Corny, has the honor of offering you the homage of those
sentiments of distinguished esteem and regard, with which he is, dear
Madam, your most obedient, and most humble servant.