They were generally small, round, well dressed and agreeable.  They were gourmands, active and pleasant.  The few that remain have became very devout and very fat.

None could be more comfortable than a rich prior or abbot.  They had no superiors and nothing to do.  If there be a long peace, the priors will turn up again, but unless there be a great change in the ecclesiastical organization, the Abbes are lost for ever.

Miscellany.—­Wine.

“Monsieur,” said an old marquise to me one day, “which do you like best, Burgundy or Bordeaux?” “Madame,” said I, “I have such a passion for examining into the matter, that I always postpone the decision a week.”

Strawberries.

The Count de la Place recommends that strawberries should always be dressed with orange juice.

Judgment.

“He is not a man of mind,” said the Count de M——­ “Why?” “Ah! he does not eat pudding a la Richelieu, nor cutlets a la Soubise.”

Raisins.

“Take a raisin—­”

“No I thank you; I do not like wine in pills.”

A day with the Bernardines.

It was about one A. M., on a fine summer night, and I set out after having been serenaded by many who took an interest in us.  This was about 1782.

I then was the chief of a troop of amateur musicians All of whom were young and healthy.

“Monsieur,” said the abbe of Saint Sulpice to me one day, and he drew me into a window recess, “you would enjoy yourself very much if you come some day to play for us at Saint Bernard’s.  The Saints would be delighted.”

I accepted the offer at once, for it seemed to promise us an agreeable evening.  I nodded assent, and all were amazed.

Annuit, et totum nutu tremefecit olympum.

Every precaution had previously been taken, for we had yet to go four leagues, a distance sufficient to terrify the persons who had ascended Mont Martre.

The monastery was in a valley, enclosed on the west side by a mountain, and on the east by a hill that was not so high.

The eastern peak was crowned by a forest of immense pines.  The valley was one vast prairie, and the beech grows much like the arrangements of an English garden.

We came about evenfall, and were received by the cellarer who had a nose very rich-like an obelisk.

“Gentlemen,” said he, “our abbe will be glad when he hears you have come.  He is yet in bed; but come with me, and you will see whether we have expected you or not.”

We followed him, and besought him to take us to the refectory.

Amid the display of the table arose a pate like a cathedral; on one side was a quarter of cold veal, artichokes, etc., were also on the eastern range.

There were various kinds of fruits, napkins, knives and plate; at the foot of the table were many attentive servants.