Sign’d,
Richard Smith.
Bridget Smith.
The Coroner’s Inquest, after the usual Formalities, brought in their Verdict, whereby they declared Richard Smith guilty of that Crime, which they call in England, Felo de se, or Self-Murder; and of Wilful Murder as to his Child. Bridget was brought in a Lunatic, tho’ she had sign’d the Letter with her Husband, and acknowledged
that she was equally concerned in the Murder of her Child; so that I think her Corpse deserved hanging, at least for a little while: And sure I am, that she would not have been found a Lunatic here.
There being commonly some little Piece of Entertainment at the End of Tragedies, I am now to divert you with some such Farce. ’Tis the Adventure of a certain pert Coxcomb of a Counsellor, with the Abbé de Vayrac, an Author, and a Man of[77]Wit. Not many Days ago, as the Abbé was walking on Foot, he was overtaken with a Shower of Rain, which made him take Shelter under a Penthouse, at a Shop-door. At the same Time, who should pass by in a magnificent Coach, driving at a mad Rate, as if he would run over every Thing in his Way, but a Counsellor, whose furious Career was stopp’d all on a sudden, by something that broke his Harness! This Disaster happen’d just at the Place Where the Abbé de Vayrac stood, dress’d like other Authors, with an old tatter’d Hat upon his Head, and a shabby Cloak over a Coat quite thread-bare. The Thing that most diverted the Counsellor, was his Hat, and he order’d one of his Lacqueys to ask him, if it was not as old as the Battle of[78]Rocroy. You must know, the Lacqueys of this Country are more brazen-fac’d and insolent than they
are any-where else; and the Counsellor’s discharg’d his Errand to a Tittle. M. l’Abbé, said he, in a Droll Tone, my Master wants to know in what Battle your Hat receiv’d all those Wounds. At the Battle of Cannæ, Friend, reply’d the Abbé; and then he laid on five or six heavy Blows upon the impudent Ambassador’s Shoulders with his Cane. The Counsellor, seeing his Domestic so soundly drubb’d, stepp’d instantly out of his Coach, and running to the Abbé, said, What are you doing? The Abbé reply’d very sedately, I am chastising Insolence. Parbleu, M. l’Abbé, said the Counsellor, I think you are a pleasant Fellow to presume to strike a Servant of mine! Surely you don’t know me; for if you did, you would have more Respect for my Livery. Pardon me, reply’d the Abbé, I know you very well. And who am I? said the Counsellor. Why you are a Fool, reply’d the Abbé; upon which the Gentleman thought fit to sneak off. This is a very true Story; for I had it from the Abbé de Vayrac himself, who told it to me with the same Gravity as he had answer’d the Counsellor.
Tho’ Lacqueys are not commonly the Subjects of Conversation, yet I think that those of Paris deserve some Notice. They form so considerable a Body, that there are many Kings who have not so numerous an Army. Besides, these Fellows make such extraordinary Fortunes, and often rise so quick from Valets, to be Masters and Gentlemen, that really they ought not to be confounded in the Lump with the European Lacqueys. Those of ’em who set up for fine Fellows, as many of ’em do, (for in the Livery of Paris, you meet with every Thing that is handsome and gay) such, I say, as are in the Service of some young Noblemen, are commonly Equals and Companions with their Masters. There are others who are the Darlings of the Fair Sex; and if Satire may
be credited, and Appearances, perhaps, into the Bargain, there are Ladies even of the first Quality, who don’t always treat their Lacqueys like Servants. ’Tis true, they most commonly take them out of the Livery, and in order to bring them near their Persons, they make them their Pages, or Valets de Chambre. Nothing is thought too good for these Favourites of Venus; they are rigg’d out like Princes, and were you to see one of these fortunate Lacqueys, you would naturally take him for some Person of Consequence. And indeed, there are some who act the Man of Quality to such a Perfection, that nothing can exceed it; and they have often better Manners than their Masters. The Airs of Importance, and of Quality, are very natural to the French. There are others of the menial Class, that enjoy the Favour of their young Masters, in a Way so uncommon, that one knows not what to think of it; and many of those young Gentlemen, forgetting the Respect that is due to their own Persons, and their Families, make Parties at Supper with ’em, at which Time, I fansy, Conversation is the least Part of the Entertainment. But such is the Spirit of Debauchery, that it has infected the Generality of the young People at Court; tho’ ’tis true enough, that it ever was so.
I don’t say that excessive Debauchery is the universal Goût of the Nation; for, on the contrary, the French are virtuous from the Cradle to the Grave, if they are but so happy as to get over the four or five Years of juvenile Fury, and to surmount the tumultuous Passions which their great Vivacity kindles in their Breasts, and prompts them to do Things at twenty Years of Age, which at thirty they detest and abhor; and I affirm of the French in general, that they are not vicious by Inclination. The Nobleman is infinitely more so,
than the Bulk of the People; and whether it is bad Company, bad Counsel, or whatever else that misleads him, he thinks that to be debauch’d gives him a fine Air; and many of ’em really boast of being greater Deboshees, than in Fact they are.
But this does not seem to me to be the Case of the Women (I mean of those who are not very rigidly attach’d to the Precepts of Virtue). They always preserve an Appearance of Decency, which imposes on such as don’t know them: Nor is their Conversation licentious; and if they are naughty, ’tis in private. ’Tis certain that our Countrymen don’t do the French Ladies Justice. Many of our young Fellows, when they come home from Paris, affecting to be Coxcombs, tell Stories so much to the Disadvantage of the Fair Sex, that most of the German Gentlemen, and especially of our Ladies, think the Reverse of what they ought to do. Virtue and Modesty are as eminent among the Sex here as elsewhere; and those Whifflers, that give themselves the Liberty of scandalizing them, very often know not how to call one Woman of Quality by her right Name, and even never saw her Antichamber. ’Tis certain, that there are Women of Quality here, who have laid aside the Mask; but of these there are so few, that the whole Sex ought not to be reproach’d for their Misconduct. I give you my Word and Honour, that there are fine young Ladies here, born to charm our Sex, whom Calumny itself is obliged to respect; and I don’t see what more can be desired. I’ll vouch the same for the young Gentlemen, of whom indeed, the greatest Number is very much debauch’d, but there are some that have not quitted the Reins of Modesty. A Tremouille, a Luxembourg, a Boufflers, and many more, may be set up as Examples to