 be entertained with my poor La Jeunesse,«
he said, »who, by the way, is ten years older than I am« - (the Marquis is above
sixty) - »he reminds me of the player in the Roman Comique who acted a whole
play in his own proper person - he insists on being maître d'hôtel, maître de
cuisine, valet-de-chambre, a whole suite of attendants in his own poor
individuality. He sometimes reminds me of a character in the Bridle of
Lammermore, which you must have read, as it is the work of one of your gens de
lettres, qu'on appelle, je crois, le Chevalier Scott.«4
    »I presume you mean Sir Walter?«
    »Yes - the same - the same,« answered the Marquis.
    We were now led away from more painful recollections; for I had to put my
French friend right in two particulars. In the first I prevailed with
difficulty; for the Marquis, though he disliked the English, yet, having been
three months in London, piqued himself on understanding the most intricate
difficulties of our language, and appealed to every dictionary, from Florio
downwards, that la Bride must mean the Bridle. Nay, so sceptical was he on this
point of philology, that, when I ventured to hint that there was nothing about a
bridle in the whole story, he, with great composure, and little knowing to whom
he spoke, laid the whole blame of that inconsistency on the unfortunate author.
I had next the common candour to inform my friend, upon grounds which no one
could know so well as myself, that my distinguished literary countryman, of whom
I shall always speak with the respect his talents deserve, was not responsible
for the slight works which the humour of the public had too generously, as well
as too rashly, ascribed to him. Surprised by the impulse of the moment, I even
might have gone farther, and clenched the negative by positive evidence, owning
to my entertainer that no one else could possibly have written these works,
since I myself was the author, when I was saved from so rash a commitment of
myself by the calm reply of the Marquis, that he was glad to hear these sort of
trifles were not written by a person of condition. »We read them,« he said, »as
we listen to the pleasantries of a comedian, or as our ancestors did to those of
a professed family-jester, with a good deal of amusement, which, however, we
should be sorry to derive from the mouth
