I had determined beforehand to give myself entirely to Dr. Borrow during the time of his visit. I have often regretted the hours my farm took from you. I had forewarned Hans of my intention of allowing myself a vacation, and had arranged for the boys some work which did not require oversight. They were to take hold of it, without further notice, as soon as the distinguished stranger arrived. I could therefore give myself up with an easy mind to the prolonged pleasures of the breakfast-table. The Doctor was in excellent spirits,--full of anecdote and of argument. I was very near being drawn into a controversy more than once; but I was more willing to listen to him than to myself, and avoided it successfully. Harry was in the same peaceful disposition, but was not so fortunate. A subject of difference between the friends, which seems to be a standing one, is the character of the French. How did the Doctor bring it on the table that morning? I think it was à-propos of the coffee. He praised it and compared it with Paris coffee, which he did not dispraise. But, once landed in France, that he should expatiate there for a time was of course; and he found himself, as it appeared, in a favorite field of animadversion. He began with some general reflection,--I forget what; but, from the tone in which it was given, I understood perfectly that it was a glove thrown down to Harry. It was not taken up; and the Doctor, after a little defiant pause, went forward. He drew highly colored sketches of the Gaul and the Anglo-Saxon. Harry simply abstained from being amused. Dr. Borrow passed to his individual experiences. It appeared, that, notwithstanding the light regard in which he held the French, he had done them the honor to pass several years in their country. This intimate acquaintance had only given him the fairer opportunity of making a comparison which was entirely to the advantage of the race he himself represented. He declared, that, walking about among the population of Paris, he felt himself on quite another scale and of quite another clay. Harry here suggested that perhaps a Frenchman in London, or in one of our cities, might have the same feeling. "He can't,--he can't, if he would. No race dreams of asserting superiority over the Anglo-Saxon,--least of all the French." "If the French do not assert their superiority," Harry answered, laughing, "it is because they are ignorant that it has been questioned." "That gives the measure of their ignorance; and they take care to maintain it: a Frenchman never learns a foreign language." "Because--as I once heard a Frenchman say--foreigners pay him the compliment of learning his." The Doctor burst out upon French vanity. "At least you will admit that it is a quiet one," Harry replied. "The French are content with their own good opinion. The tribute that foreigners pay them is voluntary."