making the frais of the conversation since your visit to Paris."

"I understand you," answered I; "you mean that I talk too much; it is
true--I own the offence--nothing is so unpopular! Even I, the civilest,
best natured, most unaffected person in all Europe, am almost disliked,
positively disliked, for that sole and simple crime. Ah! the most beloved
man in society is that deaf and dumb person, comment s'appelle-t-il?"

"Yes," said Lady Roseville, "Popularity is a goddess best worshipped by
negatives; and the fewer claims one has to be admired, the more
pretensions one has to be beloved."

"Perfectly true, in general," said I--"for instance, I make the rule, and
you the exception. I, a perfect paragon, am hated because I am one; you,
a perfect paragon, are idolized in spite of it. But tell me what literary
news is there. I am tired of the trouble of idleness, and in order to
enjoy a little dignified leisure, intend to set up as a savant."

"Oh, Lady C--B--is going to write a Commentary on Ude; and Madame de
Genlis a Proof of the Apocrypha. The Duke of N--e is publishing a
Treatise on 'Toleration;'and Lord L--y an Essay on 'Self-knowledge.'As
for news more remote, I hear that the Dey of Algiers is finishing an 'Ode
to Liberty,'and the College of Caffraria preparing a volume of voyages to
the North Pole!"

"Now," said I, "if I retail this information with a serious air, I will
lay a wager that I find plenty of believers; for falsehood, uttered
solemnly, is much more like probability than truth uttered doubtingly:
else how do the priests of Brama and Mahomet live?"