LETTER XXXVIII.
MARSEILLES.
As the good and evil, which fall within the line of a road, as well as a
worldly traveller, are by comparison, I need not say what a heavenly
country _France_ (with all its untoward circumstances) appeared to us
_after_ having journeyed in _Spain_: what would have put me out of
temper before, became now a consolation. _How glad I should I have been,
and how perfectly content, had it been thus in Spain_, was always
uppermost, when things ran a little cross in France.
Travellers and strangers in France, in a long journey perhaps, have no
connection with any people, but such who have a design upon their purse.
At every _Auberge_ some officious coxcomb lies in wait to ensnare them,
and under one pretence or other, introduces himself; he will offer to
shew you the town; if you accept it, you are saddled with an impertinent
visiter the whole time you stay; if you refuse it, he is affronted; so
let him; for no gentleman ever does that without an easy or natural
introduction; and then, if they are men of a certain age, their
acquaintance is agreeable and useful.
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