The private Assemblies differ only from the public ones, in that they have not so much Company. There is generally the Mistress of the House, and a Dozen _Petits-colets_, who really are the _Petits-Maîtres_ of this Place, supposing them to be _Italians_; for you are not to imagine that these Gentlemen will suffer a poor _Ultramontain_ Abbé to put in a Word, because they think he has neither Sense nor Merit. As this is a Country of Priests, you shall see ten Sparks of the Band to one of the Sword. ’Tis true, that the Abbé wears the same Habit as the Gentlemen of the Gown, and as all others do who are not able to lay out much Money in Cloaths; so that when you see a _Petit-colet_ come out of any suspicious Places, you must beware of Mistakes; for they are not always Priests, nor even Clergymen. The third Class of Assemblies, where there is no Gaming, is generally at the House of some Prince; there I spend my Evenings with great Pleasure and Freedom; yet ’tis at one of the chief Houses of ROME, and really the Conversation is held in one of the finest Apartments in the World. I enter a very spacious magnificent Room, illuminated by a Couple of Wax Candles, so that if Custom had not taught me the way, I shou’d be at a Loss where to salute the Master and Mistress of the House: These two little Candles are plac’d in great Candlesticks of Silver upon old-fashion’d Stands of the same Metal. A Fountain of solid Silver, from which the Water spouts with a soft Murmur, invites me agreeably to Slumber; and it seems as if those in the Room were afraid to awake me; for they do nothing but whisper, and not a Mortal stirs from the Spot in which his good or ill Fortune plac’d him, because it wou’d be a Crime even to move a Chair; so that unless one had a speaking Trumpet, a Man must be content to converse with his next Neighbour. The Moment one enters the Room, two Pages in a black Livery attend us with Ice upon Salvers, but I don’t accept it every time ’tis offer’d; for if I did, my Stomach wou’d have long ago been congeal’d like the frozen Ocean. This profound Silence, this murmuring Fountain, all these Cardinals, Prelates and Abbats, dress’d in Black; the two Wax Candles, giving a dismal Light; all this, I say, together, makes the Assembly look like Mutes posted to watch a Corpse, and I assure you that a Church-yard itself does not put me more in mind of Mortality. Nevertheless it sometimes happens that one or other of the Company raises his Voice, and relates the News of the Day. This is generally confin’d to what is done within the City; for what was said by the Pope, the contrary Effect of some Medicine, or else some Cardinal or Prelate, the Heat or Cold of the Weather, and the Age of the Moon, are the common Topics. And after having thoroughly canvass’d these momentous Subjects till Midnight, all the Company retires with their Heads as empty as their Stomachs.