the English.  I spoke of the manner of fitting out this frigate without diminishing its swiftness of sailing.  “Yes,” replied she, in the most natural tone of voice, “no more cannon are taken than are necessary for fighting.”  I seldom have heard her speak well of any of her absent friends without letting slip something to their prejudice.  What she did not see with an evil eye she looked upon with one of ridicule, and her friend Margency was not excepted.  What I found most insupportable in her was the perpetual constraint proceeding from her little messages, presents and billets, to which it was a labor for me to answer, and I had continual embarrassments either in thanking or refusing.  However, by frequently seeing this lady I became attached to her.  She had her troubles as well as I had mine.  Reciprocal confidence rendered our conversations interesting.  Nothing so cordially attaches two persons as the satisfaction of weeping together.  We sought the company of each other for our reciprocal consolation, and the want of this has frequently made me pass over many things.  I had been so severe in my frankness with her, that after having sometimes shown so little esteem for her character, a great deal was necessary to be able to believe she could sincerely forgive me.

The following letter is a specimen of the epistles I sometimes wrote to her, and it is to be remarked that she never once in any of her answers to them seemed to be in the least degree piqued.

Montmorency, 5th November, 1760.

“You tell me, madam, you have not well explained yourself, in order to make me understand I have explained myself ill.  You speak of your pretended stupidity for the purpose of making me feel my own.  You boast of being nothing more than a good kind of woman, as if you were afraid to being taken at your word, and you make me apologies to tell me I owe them to you.  Yes, madam, I know it; it is I who am a fool, a good kind of man; and, if it be possible, worse than all this; it is I who make a bad choice of my expressions in the opinion of a fine French lady, who pays as much attention to words, and speak as well as you do.  But consider that I take them in the common meaning of the language without knowing or troubling my head about the polite acceptations in which they are taken in the virtuous societies of Paris.  If my expressions are sometimes equivocal, I endeavored by my conduct to determine their meaning,” etc.  The rest of the letter is much the same.

Coindet, enterprising, bold, even to effrontery, and who was upon the watch after all my friends, soon introduced himself in my name to the house of Madam de Verdelin, and, unknown to me, shortly became there more familiar than myself.  This Coindet was an extraordinary man.  He presented himself in my name in the houses of all my acquaintance, gained a footing in them, and eat there without ceremony.  Transported with zeal to do me service, he never