or
never to return any more; and Talleyrand warned him as a friend,
"whenever he returned to his post in France to leave his marriage mania
behind him in Spain. Here," said he, "you may, without ridicule,
intrigue with a hundred women, but you run a great risk by marrying even
one."

I have been in company with Gravina, and after what I heard him say, so
far from judging him superstitious, I thought him really impious. But
infidelity and bigotry are frequently next-door neighbours.

LETTER XXVIII.

PARIS, August, 1805.

MY LORD:--It cannot have escaped the observation of the most superficial
traveller of rank, that, at the Court of St. Cloud, want of morals is not
atoned for by good breeding or good manners. The hideousness of vice,
the pretensions of ambition, the vanity of rank, the pride of favour, and
the shame of venality do not wear here that delicate veil, that gloss of
virtue, which, in other Courts, lessens the deformity of corruption and
the scandal of depravity. Duplicity and hypocrisy are here very common
indeed, more so than dissimulation anywhere else; but barefaced knaves
and impostors must always make indifferent courtiers. Here the Minister
tells you, I must have such a sum for a place; and the chamberlain tells
you, Count down so much for my protection. The Princess requires a
necklace of such a value for interesting herself for your advancement;
and the lady-in-waiting demands a diamond of such worth on the day of
your promotion. This tariff of favours and of infamy descends 'ad
infinitum'. The secretary for signing, and the clerk for writing your
commission; the cashier for delivering it, and the messenger for
informing you of it, have all their fixed prices. Have you a lawsuit,
the judge announces to you that so much has been offered by your
opponent, and so much is expected from you, if you desire to win your
cause. When you are the defendant against the Crown, the attorney or
solicitor-general lets you know that such a douceur is requisite to
procure such an issue. Even in criminal proceedings, not only honour,
but life, may be saved by pecuniary sacrifices.

A man of the name of Martin, by profession a stock-jobber, killed, in
1803, his own wife; and for twelve thousand livres--he was acquitted, and
recovered his liberty. In November last year, in a quarrel with his own
brother, he stabbed him through the heart, and for another sum of twelve
thousand livres he was acquitte