eindre sans doute dans le coeur d'un galant homme; mais combien de
dedommagements n'a-t-il pas alors a offrir! L'estime, l'amitie, la
confiance, ne suffisent-elles pas aux glaces de la vieillesse?" Lady
C---- thinks not.

Talking last night of ----, some one observed that "it was disagreeable
to have such a neighbour, as he did nothing but watch and interfere in
the concerns of others."

"Give me in preference such a man as le Comte ----," said Monsieur
----, slily, "who never bestows a thought but on self, and is too much
occupied with that interesting subject to have time to meddle with the
affairs of other people."

"You are right," observed Madame ----, gravely, believing him to be
serious; "it is much preferable."

"But surely," said I, determined to continue the mystification, "you
are unjustly severe in your animadversions on poor Monsieur ----. Does
he not prove himself a true philanthropist in devoting the time to the
affairs of others that might be usefully occupied in attending to his
own?"

"You are quite right," said Mrs. ----; "I never viewed his conduct in
this light before; and now that I understand it I really begin to like
him,--a thing I thought quite impossible before you convinced me of the
goodness of his motives."

How many Mrs. ----'s there are in the world, with minds ductile as wax,
ready to receive any impression one wishes to give them! Yet I
reproached myself for assisting to hoax her, when I saw the smiles
excited by her credulity.

Mademoiselle Delphine Gay[6] is one of the agreeable proofs that genius
is hereditary. I have been reading some productions of hers that
greatly pleased me. Her poetry is graceful, the thoughts are natural,
and the versification is polished. She is a very youthful authoress,
and a beauty as well as a _bel esprit_. Her mother's novels have
beguiled many an hour of mine that might otherwise have been weary, for
they have the rare advantage of displaying an equal knowledge of the
world with a lively sensibility.

All Frenchwomen write well. They possess the art of giving interest
even to trifles, and have a natural eloquence _de plume_, as well as
_de langue_, that renders the task an easy one. It is the custom in
England to decry French novels, because the English unreasonably expect
that the literature of other countries should be judged by the same
criterion by which they examine their own, without making sufficient
allowance for the different manners