want of roads; but what roads there were were thronged. In France there are magnificent roads, but 'circulation is stagnant.' In Languedoc he passes 'an incredible number of splendid bridges and many superb causeways,' but a certain Croix Blanche is an 'execrable receptacle of filth, vermin, impudence, and imposition,' presided over by 'a withered hag, the demon of beastliness.' Not a carriage is to be had. In England you have towns of 3000 people cut off from all high-roads, yet with clean inns, civil hosts, and a postchaise ready at a moment's notice. Young wishes to have both the energetic Government and the energy of private enterprise. He admires the great public works of France, but is stirred to wrath by the apathy of the individual Frenchman. Though he is constantly acknowledging the courtesy of Frenchmen, and their superiority in many points of refinement, he is oddly annoyed by their taciturnity. He can never get any adequate conversation at a table d'hote. Possibly the excellent Young, who was clearly ready to talk to anybody, was a little impeded in France by the fact that (as we learn from Miss Burney) his knowledge of the language was limited, and he filled up any gaps by inserting English words
