Bossnet, once preaching before Lewis XIV, exclaimed: "Kings die, and
so do kingdoms!" Could that great preacher rise from his grave into
the pulpit, and behold France without a king, and that kingdom, not
crumbled away, but enlarged, almost with the rapid accumulation of a
snow-ball, into an enormous mass of territory, under the title of
French Republic, what would he not have to say in a sermon? _Rien de
nouveau sous le ciel_, though an old proverb, would not now suit as a
maxim. This, in fact, seems the age of wonders. The league of
monarchs has ended by producing republics; while a republic has
raised a dukedom into a monarchy, and, by its vast preponderance,
completely overturned the balance of power.

Not knowing when I may have an opportunity of sending this letter, I
shall defer to close it for the present, as I may possibly lengthen
it. But you must not expect much order in my narrations. I throw my
thoughts on paper just as they happen to present themselves, without
any studied arrangement.

_October 21, in continuation_.

When we have been for some time in the habit of corresponding with
strangers, we are apt to draw such inferences from their language and
style, as furnish us with the means of sketching an ideal portrait of
their person. This was the case with myself.

Through the concurrence of the two governments, I had, as you know,
participated, in common with others, in the indulgence of being
permitted to correspond, occasionally, on subjects of literature with
several of the _savans_ and literati of France. Indeed, the principal
motive of my journey to Paris was to improve that sort of