three hours from it, where I was forced to pass the night in my clothes, in a room not at all better than a hovel; for though I have my own bed with me, I had no mind to undress where the wind came from a thousand places. We left this wretched lodging at daybreak, and about six this morning came safe here, where I got immediately into bed. I slept so well for three hours, that I found myself perfectly recovered, and have had spirits enough to go and see all that is curious in the town; that is to say, the churches, for here is nothing else worth seeing.

This is a very large town, but the most part of it is old-built. The Jesuits' church is the neatest, which was shewn me, in a very complaisant manner, by a handsome young Jesuit; who, not knowing who I was, took a liberty in his compliments and railleries which very much diverted me, having never before seen anything of that nature. I could not enough admire the magnificence of the altars, the rich images of the saints (all of massy silver) and the enchassures of the relics; though I could not help murmuring in my heart at the profusion of pearls, diamonds, and rubies bestowed on the adornment of rotten teeth and dirty rags. I own that I had wickedness enough to covet St Ursula's pearl necklaces, though perhaps this was no wickedness at all, an image not being certainly one's neighbour; but I went yet further, and wished she herself converted into dressing-plate. I should also gladly see converted into silver a great St Christopher, which, I imagine, would look very well in a cistern. These were my pious reflections; though I was very well

satisfied to see, piled up to the honour of our nation, the skulls of the eleven thousand virgins. I have seen some hundreds of relics here of no less consequence; but I will not imitate the common style of travellers so far as to give you a list of them, being persuaded that you have no manner of curiosity for the titles given to jawbones and bits of worm-eaten wood. Adieu; I am just going to supper, where I shall drink your health in an admirable sort of Lorrain wine, which I am sure is the same you call Burgundy in London.

LETTER V.

To the Countess of Bristol.

Nuremberg, Aug. 22, O. S. 1716.

AFTER five days travelling post, I could not sit down to write on any other occasion than to tell my dear Lady Bristol that I have not forgotten her obliging command of sending her some account of my travels.

I have already passed a large part of Germany, have seen all that is remarkable in Cologn, Frankfort, Wurtsburg, and this place. 'Tis impossible not to observe the difference between the free towns and those under the government of absolute princes, as all the little sovereigns of Germany are. In the first, there appears an air of commerce and plenty. The streets are well built, and full of people neatly and plainly dressed. The shops are loaded with mer

chandise, and the commonalty are clean and cheerful. In the other, you see a sort of shabby finery, a number of dirty people of quality tawdered out; narrow nasty streets out of repair, wretchedly thin of inhabitants, and above half of the common sort asking alms. I cannot help fancying one under the figure of a clean Dutch citizen's wife, and the other like a poor town-lady of pleasure, painted and ribboned out in her head-dress, with tarnished silver-laced shoes, a ragged under-petticoat, a miserable mixture of vice and poverty.

They have sumptuary laws in this town which distinguish their rank by their dress, prevent the excess which ruins so many other cities, and has a more agreeable effect to the eye of a stranger than our fashions. I think, after the Archbishop of Cambray having declared for them, I need not be ashamed to own that I wish these laws were in force in other parts of the world. When one considers impartially the merit of a rich suit of clothes in most places, the respect and the smiles of favour it procures, not to speak of the envy and the sighs it occasions (which is very often the principal charm to the wearer), one is forced to confess that there is need of an uncommon understanding to resist the temptation of pleasing friends and mortifying rivals; and that it is natural to young people to fall into a folly which betrays them to that want of money which is the source of a thousand basenesses. What numbers of men have begun the world with generous inclinations, that have afterwards been the instruments of bringing

misery on a whole people, being led by a vain expense into debts that they could clear no other way but by the forfeit of their honour, and which they never could have contracted, if the respect the many pay to habits was fixed by law only to a particular colour or cut of plain cloth! These reflections draw after them others that are too melcancholy. I will make haste to put them out of your head by the farce of relics with which I have been entertained in all the Romish churches.

The Lutherans are not quite free from these follies. I have seen here, in the principal church, a large piece of the cross set in jewels, and the point of the spear which, they told me very gravely, was the same that pierced the side of our Saviour. But I was particularly diverted in a little Roman Catholic church which is permitted here, where the professors of that religion are not very rich, and consequently cannot adorn their images in so rich a manner as their neighbours. For, not to be quite destitute of all finery, they have dressed up an image of our Saviour over the altar in a fair full-bottomed wig, very well powdered. I imagine I see your ladyship stare at this article, of which you very much doubt the veracity; but, upon my word, I have not yet made use of the privilege of a traveller, and my whole account is written with the same plain sincerity of heart with which I assure you that I am, dear madam, yours, &c.

LETTER VI.

To Mrs Thistlethwayte.

Ratisbon, Aug. 30, O. S 1716.

I HAD the pleasure of receiving yours but the day before I left London. I give you a thousand thanks for your good wishes; and have such an opinion of their efficacy, that I am persuaded I owe in part to them the goodluck of having proceeded so far on my long journey without any ill accident. For I don't reckon it any to have been stopped a few days in this town by a cold, since it has not only given me an opportunity of seeing all that is curious in it, but of making some acquaintance with the ladies, who have all been to see me with great civility, particularly Madame

the wife of our king's envoy from Hanover. She has carried me to all the assemblies, and I have been magnificently entertained at her house, which is one of the finest here.

You know that all the nobility of this place are envoys from different states. Here are a great number of them, and they might pass their time agreeably enough if they were less delicate on the point of ceremony. But instead of joining in the design of making the town as pleasant to one another as they can, and improving their little societies, they amuse themselves no other way than with perpetual quarrels, which they take care to eternise by leaving them to their successors, and an envoy to Ratisbon receives regularly half-a-dozen quarrels among the