And he who to his Fancy puts no Stop, Goes out a Fool, and may return a Fop; And after he Six Months in _France_ has been, Comes home a most Accomplish'd Harlequin, Drest in a tawdry Suit at _Paris_ made, For which he more than thrice the Value paid. _French_ his Attendants, _French_ alone his Mouth Can speak, his native Language is uncouth. If to the Ladies he does make Advance, His very Looks must have the Air of France, The _English_ are so heavy and so dull, As if with Lead, not Brains, their Heads were full. But the brisk _Frenchman_, by his subtil Art, Soon finds Access to any Lady's Heart. And again,[112] 'Then before they can Conster and Pearse,[113] they are sent into _France_ with sordid illiterate Creatures, call'd Dry'd Nurses, or Governours; Engines of as little use as Pacing Saddles, and as unfit to Govern 'em as the Post Horses they ride to Paris on; From whence they return with a little smattering of that mighty Universal Language, without being ever able to write true English.' [Footnote 112: _The Virtuoso._] [Footnote 113: Construe and parse.] If these descriptions be true, and they are so numerous and widely scattered as to leave little doubt of it, the young fellow came back a fribble, an emasculated nothing, except as regards his periwig, his clothes, and his snuff-box. [114]But _Art_ surpasses _Nature_; and we find Men may be transform'd into Womankind [Footnote 114: _Almonds for Parrots_, ed. 1708.] --a creature who 'can Sing, and Dance, and play upon the Guitar; make Wax Work, and Fillagree, and Paint upon Glass'[115]--who swore pretty little oaths--odsbodikins![116] oh me! and never stir alive! or blister me![117] impair my vigour! enfeeble me! or could say to a lady,[118] Madam, split me, you are very impertinent! who painted himself[119] 'purely to oblige the ladies,'--and who, when he met a friend, must needs fall a-kissing him, described in one old play as 'the Embracing[120] and the fulsome Trick you Men have got of Kissing one another.' Or, as in another play, one of those travelled pretty dears says,[121] 'Sir--You Kiss Pleasingly--I love to Kiss a Man, in _Paris_ we kiss nothing else.' [Footnote 115: _Tunbridge Walks._] [Footnote 116: _Tatler_, No. 13.] [Footnote 117: _The Beau's Duel._] [Footnote 118: _Tatler_, No. 2.] [Footnote 119: _St. James's Park, a Satyr_, 1709.] [Footnote 120: _Tunbridge Walks._] [Footnote 121: _Love Makes a Man._] [Illustration: Men Kissing.]