But this is nothing to my travels-So I twice-twice beg pardon for it.

AND how do you find the French? said the Count de B****, after he had given me the passport.

The reader may suppose, that, after so obliging a proof of courtesy, I could not be at a loss to say something handsome to the inquiry.

-Mais passe, pour cela-Speak frankly, said he; do you find all the urbanity in the French which the world give us the honour of? I had found every thing, I said, which confirmed it.-Vraiment, said

the Count-Les François sont polis-To an excess, replied I.

The Count took notice of the word excesse; and would have it I meant more than I said. I defended myself a long time as well as I could against it—he insisted I had a reserve, and that I would speak my opinion frankly.

I believe, Mons. le Count, said I, that man has a certain compass, as well as an instrument; and that the social and other calls have occasion by turns for every key in him; so that if you begin a note too high or too low, there must be a want either in the upper or under part, to fill the system of harmony.

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The Count de B**** did not understand music, so desired me to explain it some other way. A polished nation, my dear Count, said I, makes every one its debtor; and besides, urbanity itself, like the fair sex, has so many charms, it goes against the heart to say it can do ill; and

yet, I believe, there is but a certain line. of perfection, that man, take him altogether, is empowered to arrive at if he gets beyond, he rather exchanges qua lities than gets them. I must not presume to say, how far this has affected the French in the subject we are speaking of

but should it ever be the case of the English, in the progress of their refinements, to arrive at the same polish which distinguishes the French, if we did not lose the politesse du cœur, which inclines men more to humane actions, than courteous ones-we should at least lose that distinct variety and originality of charac ter, which distinguishes them, not only from each other, but from all the world besides.

I had a few of king William's shillings as smooth as glass in my pocket; and foreseeing they would be of use in the illustration of my hypothesis, I had got them:

into my hand, when I had proceeded so far

See, Mons. le Count, said I, rising up, and laying them before him upon the tas ble by jingling and rubbing one against

another for seventy years together in one body's pocket or another's, they are become so much alike, you can scarce distinguish one shilling from another.

The English, like ancient medals, kept more apart, and passing but few people's hands, preserve the first sharpnesses which the fine hand of nature has given themthey are not so pleasant to feel—but in return, the legend is so visible, that at the first look you see whose image and superscription they bear. But the French, Mons. le Count, added I, wishing to soften what I had said, have so many excellencies, they can the better spare this--they are a loyal, a gallant, a generous, an ingenious, and good tempered people

as is under heaven-if they have a faultthey are too serious.

Mon Dieu! cried the Count, rising out of his chair.

Mais vous plaisantez, said he, correcting his exclamation.-I laid my hand upon my breast, and with earnest gravity assured him it was my most settled opinion.

The Count said he was mortified-he could not stay to hear my reasons, being engaged to go that moment to dine with the Duc de C****.

But if it is not too far to come to Versailles to eat your soup with me, I beg, before you leave France, I may have the pleasure of knowing you retract your opinion-or, in what manner you support it. But if you do support it, Mons. Anglois, said he, you must do it with all your powers, because you have the whole world against you.-I promised