Although placed in a part of France very remote from the capital, and unfrequented by travellers, I find in all I hear and see abundant matter of wonder and reflection; and as I advance in my enquiries, the scene continues to open upon me. To witness the meridian blaze of the revolutionary government, I am arrived six months too late; its disastrous lustre is eclipsed. When I testify emotions of astonishment, I am always cut short by the exclamation of, “Ah! if you had been here in the reign of Robespierre, or even during the first three months after his death!” I am not upon any parole, either written or verbal, but I am _cautionné_, that is, the lady of the house is bound for my appearance at all times, in the sum of 3000 livres. Upon this consideration I have leave to go into all parts of the town, and have ventured to deviate, in every direction, into the surrounding country, to the distance of two or three miles, without having hitherto met with interruption. Nothing could happen more fortunately than our coming here at the beginning of the carnival-week, during which parties meet every night at each other’s houses. The evening of our arrival the meeting was held at Mademoiselle Brimaudiere’s, and was attended by all her friends and acquaintances, who, as she is a woman well born and connected, are of the better order, though, as I found in the sequel, of very opposite political opinions. Formerly these assemblies were closed by sumptuous suppers; but in the present poverty of the times, they meet only to play at _passe-dix_. Into this circle I was introduced, and found the greater part of it composed of well-dressed people of both sexes, who surrounded a large table, on which the dice were rolling, and the spirit of betting as keen as it could have been at any former period; handfuls of _assignats_ shifting their owners every moment; and even children, of not more than seven or eight years old, were encouraged to stand by, and receive lessons in this instructive seminary:----“_Ma mere! dix sols pour!----Ma tante! quinze sols contre!_” resounded from infant mouths on every side. Among the women were several whom I thought very agreeable in person, particularly Mademoiselle Kérvélligan, and la Marquise de Ploeuc. The latter is extremely elegant in her manners, but beams “with faded splendor.” I could not bear to hear the boorish and disgusting title of “_Citoyenne_” applied to a fashionable woman; and therefore, whenever I addressed myself to the marchioness, I called her “_Madame la Marquise_,” and the rest of the company _Mademoiselle_, or _Monsieur_. Indeed to this I had acquired a sort of right, by being myself honoured with the appellation of “_Monsieur le Major_,” when I was invited to play, which I at once accepted, and formed one of the circle. These good old-fashioned courtesies also fell occasionally from the rest of the company; but I observed that they were spoken in a low voice, and not