The next morning I spent with Madame D’Anville. A Frenchwoman easily consoles herself for the loss of a lover--she converts him into a friend, and thinks herself (nor is she much deceived) benefited by the exchange. We talked of our grief in maxims, and bade each other adieu in antitheses. Ah! it is a pleasant thing to drink with Alcidonis (in Marmontel’s Tale) of the rose-coloured phial--to sport with the fancy, not to brood over the passion of youth. There is a time when the heart, from very tenderness, runs over, and (so much do our virtues as well as vices flow from our passions) there is, perhaps, rather hope than anxiety for the future in that excess. Then, if Pleasure errs, it errs through heedlessness, not design; and Love, wandering over flowers, “proffers honey, but bears not a sting.” Ah! happy time! in the lines of one who can so well translate feeling into words-- “Fate has not darkened thee; Hope has not made The blossoms expand it but opens to fade; Nothing is known of those wearing fears Which will shadow the light of our after years.”--The Improvisatrice. Pardon this digression--not much, it must be confessed, in my ordinary strain--but let me, dear reader, very seriously advise thee not to judge of me yet. When thou hast got to the end of my book, if thou dost condemn it or its hero--why “I will let thee alone (as honest Dogberry advises) till thou art sober; and, if thou make me not, then, the better answer, thou art not the man I took thee for.” VOLUME III. CHAPTER XXX. It must be confessed, that flattery comes mighty easily to one’s mouth in the presence of royalty.--Letters of Stephen Montague. ‘Tis he.--How came he thence--what doth he here?--Lara. I had received for that evening (my last at Paris) an invitation from the Duchesse de B----. I knew that the party was to be small, and that very few besides the royal family would compose it. I had owed the honour of this invitation to my intimacy with the----s, the great friends of the duchesse, and I promised myself some pleasure in the engagement. There were but eight or nine persons present when I entered the royal chamber. The most distingue of these I recognized immediately as the--. He came forward with much grace as I approached, and expressed his pleasure at seeing me. “You were presented, I think, about a month ago,” added the--, with a smile of singular fascination; “I remember it well.” I bowed low to this compliment. “Do you propose staying long at Paris?” continued the--. “I protracted,” I replied, “my departure solely for the honour this evening affords me. In so doing, please your--, I have followed the wise maxim of keeping the greatest pleasure to the last.”