"DEAR FERGUSON,--I have now passed four days at Paris, and about a fortnight in the court at Fontainbleau, amidst a people who, from the royal family downwards, seem to have it much at heart to persuade me, by every expression of esteem, that they consider me as one of the greatest geniuses in the world. I am convinced that Louis XIV. never, in any three weeks of his life, suffered so much flattery: I say suffered, for it really confounds and embarrasses me, and makes me look sheepish. Lord Hertford has told them they will chase me out of France, _à coup de complimens et de louanges_. Our friend, General Clerk, came to this place after I had passed a week in it; and the first thing he said to me was, that he was sure I had never passed so many days with so little satisfaction. I asked him how he had happened to guess so well. He said, because he knew me, and knew the French. I really wish often for the plain roughness of the _Poker_,[172:2] and particularly the sharpness of Dr. Jardine, to correct and qualify so much lusciousness. However, I meet sometimes with incidents that please me, because they contain no mixture of French complaisance or exaggeration. Yesterday I dined at the Duc de Praslin's, the secretary of state. After we had risen from dinner, I went into a corner to converse with somebody; when I saw enter the room, a tall gentleman, a little elderly, with a riband and star, who immediately called out to the Duchesse de Praslin, 'Hé, Madame la Duchesse, que je suis content, j'ai vu Monsieur Hume à la cour aujourd'hui.' Upon inquiry, I was told he was a man of quality, esteemed one of the cleverest and most sensible about the court.