houses in the country, where, by farming their own
grounds, they might live at a small expence, and improve their estates
at the same time. They allow their country houses to go to decay, and
their gardens and fields to waste; and reside in dark holes in the
Upper Town of Boulogne without light, air, or convenience. There they
starve within doors, that they may have wherewithal to purchase fine
cloaths, and appear dressed once a day in the church, or on the
rampart. They have no education, no taste for reading, no housewifery,
nor indeed any earthly occupation, but that of dressing their hair, and
adorning their bodies. They hate walking, and would never go abroad, if
they were not stimulated by the vanity of being seen. I ought to except
indeed those who turn devotees, and spend the greatest part of their
time with the priest, either at church or in their own houses. Other
amusements they have none in this place, except private parties of
card-playing, which are far from being expensive. Nothing can be more
parsimonious than the oeconomy of these people: they live upon soupe
and bouille, fish and sallad: they never think of giving dinners, or
entertaining their friends; they even save the expence of coffee and
tea, though both are very cheap at Boulogne. They presume that every
person drinks coffee at home, immediately after dinner, which is always
over by one o'clock; and, in lieu of tea in the afternoon, they treat
with a glass of sherbet, or capillaire. In a word, I know not a more
insignificant set of mortals than the noblesse of Boulogne; helpless in
themselves, and useless to the community; without dignity, sense, or
sentiment; contemptible from pride. and ridiculous from vanity. They
pretend to be jealous of their rank, and will entertain no
correspondence with the merchants, whom they term plebeians. They
likewise keep at a great distance from strangers, on pretence of a
delicacy in the article of punctilio: but, as I am informed, this
stateliness is in a great measure affected, in order to conceal their
poverty, which would appear to greater disadvantage, if they admitted
of a more familiar communication. Considering the vivacity of the
French people, one would imagine they could not possibly lead such an
insipid life, altogether unanimated by society, or diversion. True it
is, the only profane diversions of this place are a puppet-show and a
mountebank; but then their religion affords a perpetual comedy. Their