I was amused by an anecdote which M. J*** told me of an Englishman to whom he, some years ago, showed these same curious papers--among which is the receipt used by Madame de Brinvilliers for the composition of the poison whose effects plunged Paris in terror. "Will you do me the favour to let me copy this receipt?" said the Englishman. "I think that my privilege does not reach quite so far as that," was the discreet reply; and but for this, our countryman's love for chemical science might by this time have spread the knowledge of the precious secret over the whole earth. LETTER LIII. French ideas of England.--Making love.--Precipitate retreat of a young Frenchman.--Different methods of arranging Marriages.--English Divorce.--English Restaurans. It now and then happens, by a lucky chance, that one finds oneself full gallop in a conversation the most perfectly unreserved, without having had the slightest idea or intention, when it began, of either giving or receiving confidence. This occurred to me a few days ago, while making a morning visit to a lady whom I had never seen but twice before, and then had not exchanged a dozen words with her. But, upon this occasion, we found ourselves very nearly tête-à-tête, and got, I know not how, into a most unrestrained discussion upon the peculiarities of our respective countries. Madame B*** has never been in England, but she assured me that her curiosity to visit our country is quite as strong as the passion for investigation which drew Robinson Crusoe from his home to visit the...." "Savages," said I, finishing the sentence for her. "No! no! no!... To visit all that is most curious in the world." This phrase, "most curious," seemed to me of doubtful meaning, and so I told her; asking whether it referred to the museums, or the natives. She seemed doubtful for a moment whether she should be frank or otherwise; and then, with so pretty and playful a manner as must, I think, have disarmed the angry nationality of the most thin-skinned patriot alive, she answered-- "Well then--the natives." "But we take such good care," I replied, "that you should not want specimens of the race to examine and make experiments upon, that it would hardly be worth your while to cross the Channel for the sake of seeing the natives. We import ourselves in such prodigious quantities, that I can hardly conceive you should have any curiosity left about us." "On the contrary," she replied, "my curiosity is only the more _piquée_: I have seen so many delightful English persons here, that I die to see them at home, in the midst of all those singular customs, which they cannot bring with them, and which we only know by the imperfect accounts of travellers."