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