My Voyages are at last finished, my dear Baron; and after five years travel and fatigue I am glad to find myself once more at Paris. But perhaps I shall surprize you by telling you, I find every thing as strange, and as new here, as I should find them at Stockholm or Petersburg; but you shall judge.

I left the men all engaged in gaming, hunting, and their little country retirements. The Ladies I left taken up with the thoughts of their dress, and the arrangement of their suppers: and I find on my return the women all scholars and wits; and the men are every one turned Authors.

Is not this a wonderful change in five years? I did not expect it, I confess to you; and, to give you an idea of my first surprise, I must acquaint you with my adventures the day after I returned. On Monday I went with great eagerness to see my old friend Madame de Surville, who, to be plain with you, I always thought, till now, had much more goodness than understanding.

She received me very politely, and told me I was come quite apropos; for, said she, we are going to have a reading to day … a reading, replied I; and of what? … ’Tis a Comedy … And of whose writing? The Viscount's, answered she, coldly. Now, my dear Baron, I must tell you, when I went to Italy, this Viscount was forty years old, and scarcely knew how to write a letter.

Whilst I was seriously reflecting on this matter, I saw near sixty Gentlemen and Ladies arrive at the house. – Thought I to myself, if the Viscount has been so unlucky as to write a Play, the most he would risk would be to read it before five or six of his intimate friends; but surely he is not going to expose himself to the ridicule of this numerous assembly.