other place where we stopped, we met with abundance of dirt, and
the most flagrant imposition. I shall not pretend to describe the
cities of Abbeville and Amiens, which we saw only en passant; nor
take up your time with an account of the stables and palace of
Chantilly, belonging to the prince of Conde, which we visited the
last day of our journey; nor shall I detain you with a detail of
the Trefors de St. Denis, which, together with the tombs in the
abbey church, afforded us some amusement while our dinner was
getting ready. All these particulars are mentioned in twenty
different books of tours, travels, and directions, which you have
often perused. I shall only observe, that the abbey church is the
lightest piece of Gothic architecture I have seen, and the air
within seems perfectly free from that damp and moisture, so
perceivable in all our old cathedrals. This must be owing to the
nature of its situation. There are some fine marble statues that
adorn the tombs of certain individuals here interred; but they
are mostly in the French taste, which is quite contrary to the
simplicity of the antients. Their attitudes are affected,
unnatural, and desultory; and their draperies fantastic; or, as
one of our English artists expressed himself, they are all of a
flutter. As for the treasures, which are shewn on certain days to
the populace gratis, they are contained in a number of presses,
or armoires, and, if the stones are genuine, they must be
inestimable: but this I cannot believe. Indeed I have been told,
that what they shew as diamonds are no more than composition:
nevertheless, exclusive of these, there are some rough stones of
great value, and many curiosities worth seeing. The monk that
shewed them was the very image of our friend Hamilton, both in
his looks and manner.