business of a Banker, to that of a Publican;
and by studying the _Gout_ of the English nation, and changing their
gold into French currency, has made, they say, a _Demi Plumb_.

Notwithstanding the contiguity of _Calais_ to England, and the great
quantity of poultry, vegetables, game, &c. which are bought up every
market-day, and conveyed to your coast, I am inclined to believe, there
are not many parts of France where a man, who has but little money, can
make it go further than in this town; nor is there any town in England,
where the fishery is conducted with so much industry.

Yesterday I visited my unfortunate daughter, at the convent at
_Ardres_;--but why do I say unfortunate? She is unfortunate only, in the
eyes of the world, not in her own; nor indeed in mine, because she
assured me she is happy. I left her here, you know, ten years ago, by
way of education, and learning the language; but the small-pox, which
seized her soon after, made such havock on a face, rather favoured by
nature, that she desired to hide it from the world, and spend her life
in that retirement, which I had chosen only to qualify her _for_ the
world. I left her a child; I found her a sensible woman; full of
affection and duty; and her mangled and seamed face, so softened by an
easy mind, and a good conscience, that she appeared in my partial eyes,
rather an agreeable than a plain woman; but she did not omit to signify
to me, that what others considered her misfortune, she considered (as it
was not her fault) a happy circumstance; "if my face is plain (said she)
my heart is light, and I am sure it will make as good a figure in the
earth, as the fairest, and most beautiful." My only concern is, that I
find the _Prieure_ of this convent, either for want of more knowledge,
or more money, or both, had received, as parlour boarders, some English
ladies of very suspicious characters. As the conversation of such women
might interrupt, and disturb that peace and tranquillity of mind, in
which I found my daughter, I told the _Prieure_ my sentiments on that
subject, not only with freedom, but with some degree of severity; and
endeavoured to convince her, how very unwarrantably, if not
irreligiously she acted. An abandoned, or vicious woman, may paint the
pleasures of this world in such gaudy colours, to a poor innocent Nun,
so as to induce her to forget, or become less attentive to the
professions she has made to the next.

It was near this town, yo