"You fancy well that there was now something to exercise my curiosity; and what desire I had to know the French Nation in France itself. There I saw at length those French, Of whom you have sung the glories; A people despised by the English, Whom their sad rationality fills with black bile; Those French, whom our Germans Reckon all to be destitute of sense; Those French, whose History consists of Love-stories, I mean the wandering kind of Love, not the constant; Foolish this People, headlong, high-going, Which sings beyond endurance; Lofty in its good fortune, crawling in its bad; Of an unpitying extent of babble, To hide the vacancy of its ignorant mind. Of the Trifling it is a tender lover; The Trifling alone takes possession of its brain. People flighty, indiscreet, imprudent, Turning like the weathercock to every wind. Of the ages of the Caesars those of the Louises are the shadow; Paris is the ghost, of Rome, take it how you will. No, of those vile French you are not one: You think; they do not think at all. La je vis enfin ces Francais Dont vous avez chante la gloire; Peuple meprise' des Anglais, Que leur triste raison remplit de bile noire; Ces Francais, que nos Allemands Pensent tous prives de bon sens; Ces Francais, do nt l'amour pourrait dicter l'histoire, Je dis l'amour volage, et non l'amour constant; Ce peuple fou, brusque et galant, Chansonnier insupportable, Superbe en sa fortune, en son malheur rampant, D'un bavardage impitoyable, Pour cacher le creux d'un esprit ignorant, Tendre amant de la bagatelle, Elle entre seule en sa cervelle; Leger, indiscret, imprudent, Comme ume girouette il revire a tout vent. Des siecles des Cesars ceux des Louis sont l'ombre; Rome efface Paris en tout sens, en tout point. Non, des vils Francais vous n'etes pas du nombre; Vous pensez, ils ne pensent point. "Pardon, dear Voltaire, this definition of the French; at worst, it is only of those in Strasburg I speak. To scrape acquaintance, I had to invite some Officers on our arrival, whom of course I did not know. Three of them came at once, Gayer, more content than Kings; Singing with rusty voice. In verse, their amorous exploits, Set to a hornpipe. Trois d'eux s'en vinrent a la fois, Plus gais, plus contents que des rois, Chantant d'une voix enrouee, En vers, leurs amoureux exploits, Ajustes sur une bourree. "M. de la Crochardiere and M. Malosa [two names from the tablets, third wanting] had just come from a dinner where the wine had not been spared.