I have one thing very extraordinary to observe of the French
auberges, which seems to be a remarkable deviation from the
general character of the nation. The landlords, hostesses, and
servants of the inns upon the road, have not the least dash of
complaisance in their behaviour to strangers. Instead of coming
to the door, to receive you as in England, they take no manner of
notice of you; but leave you to find or enquire your way into the
kitchen, and there you must ask several times for a chamber,
before they seem willing to conduct you up stairs. In general,
you are served with the appearance of the most mortifying
indifference, at the very time they are laying schemes for
fleecing you of your money. It is a very odd contrast between
France and England; in the former all the people are complaisant
but the publicans; in the latter there is hardly any complaisance
but among the publicans. When I said all the people in France, I
ought also to except those vermin who examine the baggage of
travellers in different parts of the kingdom. Although our
portmanteaus were sealed with lead, and we were provided
with a passe-avant from the douane, our coach was searched
at the gate of Paris by which we entered; and the women were
obliged to get out, and stand in the open street, till this
operation was performed.

I had desired a friend to provide lodgings for me at Paris, in
the Fauxbourg St. Germain; and accordingly we found ourselves
accommodated at the Hotel de Montmorency, with a first floor,
which costs me ten livres a day. I should have put up with it had
it been less polite; but as I have only a few days to stay in
this place, and some visits to receive, I am not sorry that my
friend has exceeded his commission. I have been guilty of another