me few days ago, as I
was going out to dinner, but has kindly promised to come and dine here
before he sets out. His journey is infinitely commendable, as entirely
undertaken to please you. It will be very comfortable too, as surely the
concourse of English must much abate, especially as France is
interdicted. Travelling boys and self-sufficient governors would be an
incumbrance to you, could you see more of your countrymen of more
satisfactory conversation. Florence probably is improved since it had a
Court of its own, and there must be men a little more enlightened than
the poor Italians. Scarcely any of the latter that ever I knew but, if
they had parts, were buffoons. I believe the boasted _finesse_ of the
ruling clergy is pretty much a traditionary notion, like their jealousy.
More nations than one live on former characters after they are totally
changed.

I have been often and much in France. In the provinces they may still be
gay and lively; but at Paris, bating the pert _etourderie_ of very young
men, I protest I scarcely ever saw anything like vivacity--the Duc de
Choiseul alone had more than any hundred Frenchmen I could select. Their
women are the first in the world in everything but beauty; sensible,
agreeable, and infinitely informed. The _philosophes_, except Buffon,
are solemn, arrogant, dictatorial coxcombs--I need not say superlatively
disagreeable. The rest are amazingly ignorant in general, and void of
all conversation but the routine with women. My dear and very old friend
[Madame du Deffand] is a relic of a better age, and at nearly
eighty-four has all the impetuosity that _was_ the character of the
French. They have not found out, I believe, how much their nation is
sunk in Europe;--probably the Goths and Vandals of the North will open
their eyes before a century is past. I speak of the swarming empires
that have conglomerated within our memories. _We_ dispelled the vision
twenty years ago: but let us be modest till we do so again....

_11th._

Last night I received from town the medal you promised me on the Moorish
alliance.[1] It is at least as magnificent as the occasion required, and
yet not well executed. The medallist Siriez, I conclude, is grandson of
my old acquaintance Louis Siriez of the Palazzo Vecchio.

[Footnote 1: A treaty had just been concluded between the Duke of
Tuscany and the Emperor of Morocco.]

Yesterday's Gazette issued a proclamation on the expected invasion from
Havr