them, in pure simplicity of heart, asked me if London were as large as Brest? I was contented to answer him, by saying I had never seen Brest. He was greatly surprized, on being informed that London is a sea-port; and, to recompense me for my intelligence, told me Paris did not enjoy that advantage, as he had heard, for he confessed he had never been there. A second had read Shakespeare, “and did not like him; he was too _sombre_.”----“Pray, sir, do you allude to any particular play?” He seemed confounded; but, after some hesitation, said, “Yes, to _Paucippe_.”----“To Paucippe!” exclaimed I; “you mistake the name, there is not any of his plays which bears such a title.” He was confident he was right, and therefore I begged to know the fable of the piece, or the names of the other characters; but with them, this critical reader did not pretend to any acquaintance. I need not observe to you, that none of these officers had ever served in the navy of France, but in the most subordinate capacities, under the king’s government, except the captain, who had commanded a cutter under Monsieur de Suffrein, but who had nevertheless been bred up in the service of the East India company. We anchored in Brest-Water about three o’clock this morning, and I presume to hope we shall very soon be sent on shore; but whether, or not, on parole, does not seem quite clear. They answer with great ambiguity, and apparent unwillingness, to all questions on this head, pretending that they are ignorant of what is customary, but assuring us that we shall be treated well. To be shut up in a prison, in this cold and dreary season that is coming on, is what I dread to look forward to. We frequently describe to them the parole which is allowed to all French officers in England. But, whatever is to be our lot, I shall not wonder at their taking almost any step to rid themselves of so numerous a troop of intruders on their society and table. Their own mess consists of sixteen persons, besides the captain, who lives in common with his officers, although this association, they tell me, is forbidden in their naval instructions; but it seems these little deviations are winked at, in certain cases, to prevent the too weighty tax of a separate table. We breakfast every morning at nine o’clock on _Gloucester_ cheese (taken out of an English prize) good brown bread, called _pain d’egalité_, which they bake on board, and a thin acid claret, of which the Frenchmen drink very liberally. This does not seem to argue the scarcity of flour among them, which has been so much insisted upon in England. A hint of this was dropped, and great derision followed, on their part, at the idea of starving such a country as France, by cutting off a few casual supplies by sea. We dine between twelve and one, and sup between six and seven o’clock. On all these occasions there is a sufficient quantity of provisions provided, though the dirty state in which it is served up, would disgust a Hottentot.