our waggoners. How they can talk Lattin I can't conceive, since they don't seem as though they had had any education. I went up to the altar, where the ministers were got a bowing to each other. They were'nt half so civil to me, however; for, as I came near 'em, I was like to have had a violent blow in the face with a large silver jug tied with a chain. I wanted to see what they were about, and so got close to the table, upon which one of them pushed me away, and I asked him where was his manners? An old monk without shoes or stockings frowned at me, and mumbled something, I don't know what, but I told him that I wasn't afraid of none of them, could pay my way, and put down guinea for guinea with him at any time; and more than all, that my father was a justice of peace. A great many people on the road called me My Lord Anglay; I suppose they had heard that you was lord of the manor. I have not got many acquaintance, but I am like soon to have plenty; for as I walked out in the streets late last night, I met a very fine young lady, who spoke to me, and asked me if I wa'n't a stranger. I told her, yes, and asked her if she know'd W our village. She said she had heard of you, and said a great many polite things, making me promise to come and see her the next day. Our John ha'n't been right well ever since he left England; he says, he can't do without ale. He has been so ill of the rheumatis that I have been forced to hire my hair-dresser to wait upon me, who knows a great deal about politics, and tells me what the ladies say of me. I can't tell what's come to Parson Jones, but he looks as if he had got the jaundiss. He behaves very well, and never contraHe says the mountains here are nothing dicts me. me. like the Welch mountains, which, he says, are as high as our steeple at W. -. I have bought a snuff-box; and Le Frere, my hair-dresser, has bought a ring for me, a very great bargain, for ten louis. He says that the best way of learning the language is to buy a great many things, and so call 'um by their names. Le Frere tells me that a certain marquis of his acquaintance wants to be introduced to He knows our village, and has heard talk of you very often. The people have been bringing me a great number of stones, and cockles, and things from the mountains. Le Frere was so lucky as to get me one yesterday, for which a great philosopher of this place has offered a hundred pounds, for only six guineas. I shall bring it home to sister: it is so bright that she may see her face in it. We are going to-morrow to see a fine valley in the midst of a great many mountains: they call it Shammoney, or some such thing. Parson Jones wo'nt go; he says they can't be so big as the Welch mountains. He grows as yellow as our coachman's livery; if so be as he dies, it will be a sad thing to be buried out of a Christian country. I can ask you how you do, what's o'clock, already; and La Frere says I pronounce the language better than he can English, though he has been several years in St. James's Street. One learns very quick among such goodnatured people. I have made it a rule to see every thing as was to be seen in all the towns I have passed through; but I ha'nt yet seen nothing so curious as the Lincolnshire ox. There was a great deal of dancing at the opera at Paris, but nothing like the slack-rope dancing as we saw last summer in sister's holidays. I don't know what else to tell you, for we have seen so many things that I don't remem ber above half. But as you have been in Wales, perhaps it don't signify talking of any thing here, for Mr. Jones says he ha'n't seen nothing like the Welch mutton and Welch mountains. We saw a fine library at Paris, as I thought; I can't think where they could find so many books: but the parson won't allow it to be nothing to the libraries in Wales. We went also to see some curiosities at a place called the Cabinet, which put me in mind of sister's shells; but Mr. Jones would not go, for he said he had seen so many in Wales. Here we saw Mr. What's-his-name, the library man, and cabinetmaker to the Dawfing. Our parson went with us to see a battle among wild beasts, where there was a jack-ass that fought like any thing you never see such fine sport in your life. With love to mother and sister, 1 remain, in haste, "Your dutiful son, "PARIDEL." No. 71. SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 21. 46 in Nos miranda quidem, sed nuper Consule Junio Nam scelus a Pyrrhâ, quanquam omnia syrmata volvas, Dira quod exemplum feritas produxerit ævo. JUV. SAT. 15, 27. What I relate's more strange, and e'en exceeds Ne'er feign'd, a thronging audience to amaze, DRYDEN, "TO THE REV. SIMON OLIVE-BRANCH. REV. SIR, "As the world in general are fond of a sad story, and as I do not observe many of this nature your very entertaining work, I determined to send you the following account of the celebrated Urban Grandier. I think it may conduce to two or three moral purposes; we may learn from it a lesson of caution against making enemies in the period of our prosperity, even among those whose imbecility or folly we most despise. The world hates those who are in the pride of security; and it is in the power of malice to operate our ruin with the grossest engine, when once the spirit of envy is excited against us. It shows us too, how little we should pique ourselves on the progress of refinement in these latter ages, when we consider that in the time of Louis the Thirteenth, but the third prince from that unfortunate monarch whose atrocious murder has brought fresh ignominy upon this boastful period, the sanction of the French government was given to an act of horror, hardly equalled in the annals of the Inquisition. "Loudun is a small town in Poitou, where there was established a monastery of nuns, the principal object of which was the instruction of young women, whom they received as boarders. In the year 1632, these young ladies lost their director, a person venerable for his piety and wisdom, whose name was Moussaut. As the interior of a convent does not abound in amusement, the young persons it contained let no opportunity pass of diverting themselves: and among other frolics, it was their humour to frighten each other by personating the ghost of their deceased director. Jean Mignon, a canon of the collegiate church of Saint Croix, at Loudun, was chosen in the place of Moussaut. It was remarked that, instead of discountenancing these sports, he gave them every possible encouragement, from which many have since concluded that he had already cast his eyes upon these young actresses, as the instruments of that inveterate hate with which he afterwards pursued the unfortunate Urban Grandier, and considered the tricks with which they were at present amused, as a proper preparation for those |