I had an opportunity of verifying this remark last week, on a party of pleasure, to which, along with some other strangers, I was, abruptly enough, invited by a company of ladies, probably with a design to laugh at us without constraint or interruption. The first day the project succeeded to their wish: they immediately began to dart their wit and pleasantry in showers, but as their arrows were not retorted, their quivers were soon empty. They then behaved with great decency, and finding themselves unable to bring us to _their_ stile, they were obliged to conform to ours. Whether they were pleased with it or not I am ignorant; however, the change was very agreeable to me, for I soon found that I stood a better chance to profit by the conversation of these females, than from the generality of men. Their wit now appeared so great an ornament to their natural good sense, that I changed my opinion of the sex, and could not help lamenting, that so many amiable women should want reason, only because it is their humour to reject it. I perceived also that their natural graces began insensibly to efface the artificial airs of the city: for, without design, our manner is generally influenced by the nature of our discourse: it is impossible to introduce much coquettish grimace in a rational conversation. They appeared much more handsome after they grew indifferent about it, and I perceived, that if they would please, they need only throw off their affectation. Hence, I am apt to conclude, that Paris, the pretended seat of taste, is of all places in the world, that in which there is the least; since all their methods of pleasing are destructive of real beauty. Thus we continued together four or five days, satisfied with each other, and with ourselves. Instead of satirising Paris and its innumerable follies, we forgot both the city and its inhabitants. Our whole care was to promote the happiness of our little society. We wanted no ill-natured wit or sarcasm to excite our mirth, but our laughter, like your cousin’s, was the effect of good humour.