- God bless them
all! said I, after much discourse about them - there is not a man
upon earth who loves them so much as I do: after all the foibles I
have seen, and all the satires I have read against them, still I
love them; being firmly persuaded that a man, who has not a sort of
affection for the whole sex, is incapable of ever loving a single
one as he ought.
Eh bien! Monsieur l'Anglois, said the Count, gaily; - you are not
come to spy the nakedness of the land; - I believe you; - ni encore,
I dare say, THAT of our women! - But permit me to conjecture, - if,
par hazard, they fell into your way, that the prospect would not
affect you.
I have something within me which cannot bear the shock of the least
indecent insinuation: in the sportability of chit-chat I have
often endeavoured to conquer it, and with infinite pain have
hazarded a thousand things to a dozen of the sex together, - the
least of which I could not venture to a single one to gain heaven.
Excuse me, Monsieur le Count, said I; - as for the nakedness of your
land, if I saw it, I should cast my eyes over it with tears in
them; - and for that of your women (blushing at the idea he had
excited in me) I am so evangelical in this, and have such a fellow-
feeling for whatever is weak about them, that I would cover it with
a garment if I knew how to throw it on: - But I could wish,
continued I, to spy the nakedness of their hearts, and through the
different disguises of customs, climates, and religion, find out
what is good in them to fashion my own by: - and therefore am I
come.
It is for this reason, Monsieur le Count, continued I, that I have
not seen the Palais Royal, - nor the Luxembourg, - nor the Facade of
the Louvre, - nor have attempted to swell the catalogues we have of
pictures, statues, and churches. - I conceive every fair being as a
temple, and would rather enter in, and see the original drawings
and loose sketches hung up in it, than the Transfiguration of
Raphael itself.
The thirst of this, continued I, as impatient as that which
inflames the breast of the connoisseur, has led me from my own home
into France, - and from France will lead me through Italy; - 'tis a
quiet journey of the heart in pursuit of Nature, and those
affections which arise out of her, which make us love each other, -
and the world, better than we do.
The Count said a great many civil things to me upon the occasion;
and added very politely, how much he stood obliged to Shakespeare
for making me known to him. - But a propos, said he; - Shakespeare is
full of great things; - he forgot a small punctilio of announcing
your name:
