I am afraid (as dates are stubborn things) that I have been rather
too lazy. As you love truth, and know me, I will not attempt an
awkward apology, but shall only say, that I will endeavor such a
delay shall not happen a second time. My father has more extensive
priviledges, and indeed he seems to be very well acquainted with them.
[Sidenote: FRIENDS IN PARIS]
I still continue to like Paris, as well as I expected. You know that
is saying a great deal. In two months I am acquainted with more, (and
more agreable) people, than I knew in London in two years. Indeed the
way of life is quite different. Much less play, more conversation,
and instead of our immense routs, agreable societies where you know
and are known by almost every body you meet. I have added several
families to those I have already mentioned to you, and I find my
conquests multiply every day. With regard to Mrs. M.'s son,[43] I am
glad to see that for once she has not exagerated; indeed she hardly
could in speaking of him. We are now very intimate, & I think I begin
to know his character. It is astonishing for a young French officer
of the Guards. He is as reserved, as little a man of the world, and
as awkward as I can be. But he has a fine natural understanding,
improved upon almost every subject, a clear unprejudiced head, and
a heart which seems to be full of the noblest sentiments of honor,
probity and friendship. I will not decide too hastily, but I believe
and hope that I am forming a connection which will last as long as
my life. We see one another very often, and in most of my visits of
curiosity he generally accompagnies me. These parties are of service
to us both. I improve by the communication of his remarks, and he has
occasion to see twenty places which he would perhaps not have seen
for the too common reason, that they were in the place he had passed
all his life in. The only unlucky circumstance is, that he has no
women in his family. A Wife or a sister are, you know, most usefull
and convenient things to bring friends together, whereas we are both
single; he in his cousin's house, I in a lodging; and in this great
town, are both obliged to get our living, which prevents our meeting
so often as we could wish. Madame Bontems[44] is a very good sort of
a woman, agreable and _sans pretensions_. She seems to have conceived
a real motherly attachment for me. I generally sup there three or
four times a week quite in a friendly way.
I have nothing new to say of his Excellency. I have not seen him
since my last letter, and but once in all. Not a single invitation
either general or particular, and tho' I have made it a rule to
leave my name at the door, at proper intervalls, I have never been
lett in. The behavior is so very singular (especially with _such a
recommendation as mine_) that I am sometimes tempted to think, some
ill offices must have been done me. Not that I am conscious of any
thing wrong or even imprudent in my behaviour. On the contrary,
whenever I have heard the D.'s manner of living here blamed and
laughed at, I have always thought it right to try to justify him,
even against my own conscience. Indeed I am sorry, for the honor of
my country to see how contemptible a figure he makes amongst our late
enemies and constant rivals. My only comfort is that the National
character is as much revered as his is despised. What Cromwell wished
is now litterally the case. The name of Englishman inspires as great
an idea at Paris as that of Roman could at Carthage, after the defeat
of Hannibal. Indeed the French are almost excessive. From being very
unjustly esteemed a set of pirates and Barbarians, we are now, by a
more agreable injustice, looked upon as a nation of Philosophers and
Patriots. I wish we would consider this opinion as an encouragement
to deserve a character, which I am afraid we have not yet attained.
I could add many things (some curious enough) with regard to the
reigning politicks and publick affairs; but I have no occasion to say
_why_ it is much better to talk them over in your Dressing room some
time hence. Perhaps I have even said too much already.
[Sidenote: PARIS AND LONDON CONTRASTED.]
With regard to Paris itself, I mean the houses and buildings, you
know very well that their people of fashion are incomparably better
lodged there than in London. Their vast Hotels, courts, stables,
gardens, are very magnificent as well as convenient. A striking
proof of the difference is the situation of our Embassador. He is
full as well if not better lodged, in the Rue St. Dominique, than
in Bloomsbury Square. However, his own house is reckoned one of the
very best in London, and his hired one here is, both as to size,
beauty and price, far inferior to a great many, even of that class,
at Paris. Indeed I take the article of house rent to be much higher
than in London, Did you ever hear of seven and eight hundred and even
a thousand pounds a year being given for a house unfurnished. There
are instances of it here. But as to the middling people, even those
of fashion, I like a London house better. Without a regular porter to
answer at the door, our little street-doors are more convenient. A
fine large court is a very agreable thing, but a dark nasty gate-way
is a very disagreable one. When you get up stairs you generally meet
with two rooms. If we sat as much in our bed-chambers as they do, we
have as many. They have indeed besides, an ante-chamber ill fitted
up, and much littered, which the servants inhabit all day, except at
noon and night that it serves for an eating parlour.
I have just seen here two families, the one my father's acquaintance,
the other your's. The first was Mr. Prowse, who only passed thro'
Paris, in his way for Tours, to which place he was going, with all
his family, for his health. I dined with him at Mr. Foley's[45] &
went about with him to several places the next day. In consequence of
some little civilities of that kind, he asked me to dine with him the
day after. He is a very agreable sensible man, but a strange being in
France. The second is your good friend Mrs. Poyntz,[46] whom I met
by accident. She talked of you, whom she adores, asked me a hundred
questions in a breath, told me all her own affairs, her tradesmen,
her house-rent, her daughter, Lord Spencer, &c. &c. &c. &c. &c. &c.,
and insisted upon my calling upon her.
My love and duty to my father. I shall write to him next post and
hope to hear from him sometimes. I have been obliged to draw for
another hundred pounds. I do assure you I study the œconomical art.
I am, Dear Madam,
Most affectionately yours,
E. G.
[43] M. d'Augny.
[44] Marie Jeanne de Chatillon, Madame Bontemps. Gibbon had
met her son, who was acting as private secretary to the Duc de
Nivernois in London, at Mallet's house in November, 1762. She
translated Thomson's _Seasons_ into French prose in 1759.
[45] The English banker at Paris.
[46] Mrs. Poyntz, wife of Stephen Poyntz, of Midgeham, Berkshire,
was mother of Lady Spencer and grandmother of Georgiana, the
beautiful Duchess of Devonshire.
23.
_To his Father._
Paris, April the 5th, 1763.