th the hope of finding in you the same generous support? for
when the god Mars is no longer to be found, what can be more natural
than to seek the aid of Pallas, the goddess of the line arts? Will she
refuse to protect with her aegis the most humble of her adorers?

"Permit me, madam, to avail myself of this opportunity to lay at your
feet the assurance of my most respectful devotion. I dare not give
utterance to all my prayers in your behalf, because I am open to a
charge of infidelity from some, yet none shall ever detect me unfaithful
in my present professions; at my age, 'tis time our choice was made,
and our affections fixed. Be assured, lovely countess, that I shall
ever remain your attached friend; and that no day will pass without my
teaching the echoes of the Alps to repeat your much-esteemed name.

"I have the honour to remain, malady, yours, etc., etc."

You may be quite sure, my friend, that I did not allow so singular an
epistle to remain long unanswered. I replied to it in the following
words:--

"SIR,--The perusal of your agreeable letter made me almost grieve
for the disgrace of the duc de Choiseul. Be assured, that to his own
conduct, and that of his family, may be alone attributed the misfortune
you deplore.

"The regrets you so feelingly express for the calamity which has
befallen your late protector do honour to your generous heart; but
recollect that your old friends were not the only persons who could
appreciate and value your fine talents; to be esteemed worthy the
honourable appellation of your patron is a glory which the proudest
might envy; and, although I cannot boast of being a Minerva, who, after
all, was possibly no wiser than the rest of us, I shall always feel
proud and happy to serve you with my utmost credit and influence.

"I return you my best thanks for the wishes you express, and the
attachment you so kindly profess. You honour me too much by repeating
my name amidst the bosom of the Alps! be assured, that I shall not be
behindhand in making the saloons of Paris and Versailles resound with
yours. Had I leisure for the undertaking, I would go and teach it to the
only mountain worthy of re-echoing it--at the foot of Parnassus.

"I am, sir, yours, etc., etc."

You perceive, my friend, that I intended this reply should be couched in
the wittiest style imaginable, yet, upon reading it over at this lapse
of time, it appears to me the silliest thing ever penned; nevertheless,
I fl