PARIS, _Sept._ 14, 1765.
I am but two days old here, Madam, and I doubt I wish I was really so,
and had my life to begin, to live it here. You see how just I am, and
ready to make _amende honorable_ to your ladyship. Yet I have seen very
little. My Lady Hertford has cut me to pieces, and thrown me into a
caldron with tailors, periwig-makers, snuff-box-wrights, milliners, &c.,
which really took up but little time; and I am come out quite new, with
everything but youth. The journey recovered me with magic expedition. My
strength, if mine could ever be called strength, is returned; and the
gout going off in a minuet step. I will say nothing of my spirits, which
are indecently juvenile, and not less improper for my age than for the
country where I am; which, if you will give me leave to say it, has a
thought too much gravity. I don't venture to laugh or talk nonsense, but
in English.
Madame Geoffrin came to town but last night, and is not visible on
Sundays; but I hope to deliver your ladyship's letter and packet
to-morrow. Mesdames d'Aiguillon, d'Egmont, and Chabot, and the Duc de
Nivernois are all in the country. Madame de Boufflers is at l'Isle
Adam, whither my Lady Hertford is gone to-night to sup, for the first
time, being no longer chained down to the incivility of an ambassadress.
She returns after supper; an irregularity that frightens me, who have
not yet got rid of all my barbarisms. There is one, alas! I never shall
get over--the dirt of this country: it is melancholy, after the purity
of Strawberry! The narrowness of the streets, trees clipped to resemble
brooms, and planted on pedestals of chalk, and a few other points, do
not edify me. The French Opera, which I have heard to-night, disgusted
me as much as ever; and the more for being followed by the Devin de
Village, which shows that they can sing without cracking the drum of
one's ear. The scenes and dances are delightful: the Italian comedy
charming. Then I am in love with _treillage_ and fountains, and will
prove it at Strawberry. Chantilly is so exactly what it was when I saw
it above twenty years ago, that I recollected the very position of
Monsieur le Duc's chair and the gallery. The latter gave me the first
idea of mine; but, presumption apart, mine is a thousand times prettier.
I gave my Lord Herbert's compliments to the statue of his friend the
Constable; and, waiting some time for the concierge, I called out, _Où
est Vatel_?
In short, Madam, being as tired as one can be of one's own country,--I
don't say whether this is much or little,--I find myself wonderfully
disposed to like this. Indeed I wish I could wash it. Madame de Guerchy
is all goodness to me; but that is not new. I have already been
prevented by great civilities from Madame de Brentheim and my old
friend Madame de Mirepoix; but am not likely to see the latter much, who
is grown a most particular favourite of the King, and seldom from him.
The Dauphin is ill, and thought in a very bad way. I hope he will live,
lest the theatres should be shut up. Your ladyship knows I never trouble
my head about royalties, farther than it affects my interest. In truth,
the way that princes affect my interest is not the common way.
I have not yet tapped the chapter of baubles, being desirous of making
my revenues maintain me here as long as possible. It will be time enough
to return to my Parliament when I want money.
Mr. Hume, that is _the Mode_, asked much about your ladyship. I have
seen Madame de Monaco, and think her very handsome, and extremely
pleasing. The younger Madame d'Egmont, I hear, disputes the palm with
her; and Madame de Brionne is not left without partisans. The nymphs of
the theatres are _laides à faire peur_, which at my age is a piece of
luck, like going into a shop of curiosities, and finding nothing to
tempt one to throw away one's money.
There are several English here, whether I will or not. I certainly did
not come for them, and shall connect with them as little as possible.
The few I value, I hope sometimes to hear of. Your ladyship guesses how
far that wish extends. Consider, too, Madam, that one of my
unworthinesses is washed and done away, by the confession I made in the
beginning of my letter.
_IS MAKING NEW FRIENDS IN PARIS--DECAY OF THE FRENCH STAGE--LE
KAIN--DUMENIL--NEW FRENCH INCLINATION FOR PHILOSOPHY AND
FREE-THINKING--GENERAL ADMIRATION OF HUME'S HISTORY AND RICHARDSON'S
NOVELS._