my curiosity, and indulge my sight with wonders? [30] Meaning, doubtless, his "Notes on Virginia." I go to very few parties. I have a dislike for them, and I have grown so excessively indolent that I do not go out for months together. All the morning I paint whatever presents itself most pleasing to me. Sometimes I have beautiful objects to paint from, and add historical characters to make them more interesting. Female and infantine beauty is the most perfect to see. Sometimes I indulge in those melancholy subjects in which History often represents herself--the horrid, the grand, the sublime, the sentimental, or the pathetic. I attempt, I exercise in them all, and end by being witness of my own disappointment and incapacity for executing the Poet, the Historian, or the conceptions of my own imagination. Thus the mornings are spent regretting they are not longer, to have more time to attempt again in search of better success, or thinking they have been too long, as they have afforded me many moments of uneasiness and anxiety, and a testimony of my not being able to do any thing. I devote my evenings to music, and then I am much visited by the first Professors, who come to play, often every evening, something new, and are all perfect in their kind. To complete the pleasure, a small society of agreeable friends frequently come to see me, and in this manner you see that I am more attached to my home than to going in search of amusement out, where there are nothing but crowded assemblies, uncomfortable heat, and not the least pleasure in meeting any body, not being able to enjoy any conversation. The Operas are very bad, tho' Zubenelli and Madame Mosa are the first singers; the dancers, too, are very bad; all this I say from report, as I have not been yet. Pray tell me something about Madame De Polignac; they make a great deal about it here; we hardly hear any thing else, and the stories are so different from one another that it is impossible to guess the real one. She is expected in England. I send this letter by a gentleman whom I think you will like. He is a Spaniard. I am partial to that nation, as I know several who are very agreeable. He is going to Paris as Secretary of Embassy at that Court. He has travelled much, and talks well. If I should be happy enough to come again in the summer to Paris, I hope we shall pass many agreeable days. I am in a million fears about it; Mr. Cosway still keeps to his intentions, but how many chances from our inclinations to the gratification of our wishes. Poor D'Ancarville has been very ill. I received a long letter from him appointing himself my _correspondent_ at Paris. I know a gentleman who causes my faith to be weak on this occasion, for _he_ flattered me with hopes that I have seen fail; nevertheless I have accepted this offer, and shall see if I find a second disappointment. Is it not time to finish my letter? Perhaps I might go on, but I must send this to the gentleman who is to take it.