war, to get killed; but, since fate has spared me, I must only live
as well as I can." "I shall congratulate myself on my arrival here,"
answered Lord Nelville, "if you find yourself comfortable at Rome, and
if--" "Oh, _mon Dieu_," interrupted the Count d'Erfeuil, "I shall find
myself comfortable every where: when we are young and gay every thing
accommodates itself to us. It is not from books, nor from meditation,
that I have derived the philosophy which I possess, but from knowledge
of the world, and trials of misfortune; and you see, my lord, that I
have reason to reckon upon chance, since it has procured me the honour
of travelling with you." In finishing these words the Count d'Erfeuil
saluted Lord Nelville with the best grace in the world, settled the hour
of departure for the following day, and took his leave.

The Count d'Erfeuil and Lord Nelville set out on the morrow. Oswald,
after some expressions of politeness had passed between them, was
several hours without saying a word; but perceiving that this silence
was disagreeable to his companion, he asked him if he anticipated
pleasure from a residence in Italy: "_Mon Dieu_," replied the Count
d'Erfeuil, "I know what I have to expect from that country. I have no
hope of any amusement there: a friend of mine, who had passed six months
at Rome, has assured me there is not a province of France where one may
not find a better theatre and a more agreeable society than at Rome, but
in that ancient capital of the world I shall surely find some Frenchmen
to chat with, and that is all I desire." "You have not attempted to
learn Italian?" interrupted Oswald. "Not at all," replied the Count
d'Erfeuil; "that did not enter into my plan of study." And in saying
this he assumed such a serious air that one would have believed it was a
resolution founded upon grave motives.

"If I may speak my mind to you," continued the Count d'Erfeuil, "as a
nation, I love only the English and the French, one must either be proud
like them or brilliant like us; all the rest is only imitation." Oswald
was silent; the Count d'Erfeuil some moments after resumed the
conversation by the most lively sallies of wit and gaiety. He played
with words and phrases in a very ingenious manner, but neither external
objects nor intimate sentiments were the object of his discourse. His
conversation proceeded, if it may be so expressed, neither from without
nor within; it was neither reflective nor imaginative,