In our perambulation, we discoursed of English poetry; and I found that THOMSON was as great a favourite with my guide as with the rest of his countrymen.  Indeed he frankly told me that he had translated him into French verse, and intended to publish his translation.  I urged him to quote specimens; which he did with a readiness and force, and felicity of version, that quite delighted me.  He thoroughly understands the original; and in the description of a cataract, or mountain torrent, from the Summer, he appeared to me almost to surpass it.  My guide then proceeded to quote Young and Pope, and delivered his opinion of our two great Whig and Tory Reviews.  He said he preferred the politics and vivacity of the Edinburgh, but thought the Quarterly more instructive and more carefully written.  “Enfin (he concluded) j’aime infiniment votre gouvernement, et vos ecrivains; mais j’aime moins le peuple Anglois.”  I replied that he had at least very recently shewn an exception to this opinion, in his treatment of one among this very people.  “C’est une autre chose”—­replied he briskly, and laughingly—­“vous allez voir deux de vos compatriotes, qui sont mes intimes, et vous en serez bien content!” So saying, we continued our route through a delightful avenue of beech-trees, upon the most elevated part within the vicinity of the town; and my companion bade me view from thence the surrounding country.  It was rich and beautiful in the extreme; and with perfect truth, I must say, resembled much more strongly the generality of our own scenery than what I had hitherto witnessed in Normandy.  But the sun was beginning to cast his shadows broader and broader, and where was the residence of Monsieur and Madame S——?

It was almost close at hand.  We reached it in a quarter of an hour—­but the inmates were unluckily from home.  The house is low and long, but respectable in appearance both within and without.  The approach to it is through a pretty copse, terminated by a garden; and the surrounding grounds are rather tastefully laid out.  A portion of it indeed had been trained into something in the shape of a labyrinth; in the centre of which was a rocky seat, embedded as it were in moss—­and from which some fine glimpses were caught of the surrounding country.  The fragrance from the orchard trees, which had not yet quite shed their blossoms, was perfectly delicious; while the stillness of evening added to the peculiar harmony of the whole.  We had scarcely sauntered ten minutes before Madame arrived.  She had been twelve years in France, and spoke her own language so imperfectly, or rather so unintelligibly, that I begged of her to resume the French.  Her reception of us was most hospitable:  but we declined cakes and wine, on account of the lateness of the hour.  She told us that her husband was in possession of from fourscore to a hundred acres of the most productive land; and regretted that he was from home, on a visit