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I am wafted over the ground, down the stairs, through the doors. This sort of travelling, dear friends, I am sure you have all of you indulged. Sterne in our bedroom, I must have got up, though I protest I don't know how, and come down stairs with him into the coffee-room of the "Hotel Dessein," where the moon was shining, and a cold supper was laid out.
I observed the lady was as little taken with it as myself: so Mons. Dessein led us on to a couple of chaises which stood abreast, telling us, as he recommended them, that they had been purchased by my lord A. and B. to go the grand tour, but had gone no further than Paris, so were in all respects as good as new.
I have always observed, when there is as much sour as sweet in a compliment, that an Englishman is eternally at a loss within himself, whether to take it, or let it alone: a Frenchman never is: Mons. Dessein made me a bow. C'est bien vrai, said he.
The favour, however, with which the Sentimental Journey was received abroad, and which it still enjoys (the last French translation is very recent), is, as Mr. Fitzgerald says, "worthily merited, if grace, nature, true sentiment, and exquisite dramatic power be qualities that are to find a welcome. And apart," he adds, "from these attractions it has a unique charm of its own, a flavour, so to speak, a fragrance that belongs to that one book alone. Never was there such a charming series of complete little pictures, which for delicacy seem like the series of medallions done on Sèvres china which we sometimes see in old French cabinets.... The figures stand out brightly, and in what number and variety! Old Calais, with its old inn; M. Dessein, the monk, one of the most artistic figures on literary canvas; the charming French lady whom M. Dessein shut into the carriage with the traveller; the débonnaire French captain, and the English travellers returning, touched in with only a couple of strokes; La Fleur, the valet; the pretty French glove-seller, whose pulse the Sentimental one felt; her husband, who passed through the shop and pulled off his hat to Monsieur for the honour he was doing him; the little maid in the bookseller's shop, who put her little present
" Un dessein si funeste, S'il n'est digne d'Atree, est digne de Thyeste. They are to be found in Crebillon's 'Atree." Truth is stranger than fiction. For full information on this interesting topic, I must refer the inquisitive reader to the "Isitsoornot" itself, but in the meantime, I shall be pardoned for giving a summary of what I there discovered.
They were too good; so I pass'd on to a third, which stood behind, and forthwith begun to chaffer for the price. But 'twill scarce hold two, said I, opening the door and getting in. Have the goodness, Madame, said Mons. Dessein, offering his arm, to step in. The lady hesitated half a second, and stepped in; and the waiter that moment beckoning to speak to Mon.
Dessein's breast, I would inevitably make a point of getting rid of this unfortunate desobligeant; it stands swinging reproaches at you every time you pass by it. Mon Dieu! said Mons. Dessein, I have no interest Except the interest, said I, which men of a certain turn of mind take, Mons.
As an Englishman does not travel to see Englishmen, I retired to my room. I perceived that something darken'd the passage more than myself, as I stepp'd along it to my room; it was effectually Mons. Dessein, the master of the hotel, who had just returned from vespers, and with his hat under his arm, was most complaisantly following me, to put me in mind of my wants.
Mais non: dans ce dessein je l'aurais devancée; L'amour m'en eût d'abord inspiré la pensée; C'est moi, prince, c'est moi dont l'utile secours Vous eût du labyrinthe enseigné les détours. Que de soins m'eût coûtés cette tête charmante! It is difficult to 'place' Racine among the poets. He has affinities with many; but likenesses to few.
We had yesterday at dinner Dick Vernon and Keith Stewart only, besides Lord Gower's family. I was going home to dine by myself tres sagement et tres tranquillement, dans le dessein de me menager, when Lord G. was so good as to propose my going home with him; and thinking that to be an opportunity of talking more with him upon you and your affairs, as we did, I could not resist it.
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