Note 2 — Chapter VI

"See, Monsieur le Count,—said I, rising up, and laying some of King William's shillings on the table,—by jingling and rubbing one against another, for seventy years, in one body's pocket or another, they are become so much alike, you can scarce distinguish one shilling from another. The English, like ancient medals, keep more apart, and passing but few people's hands, preserve the first sharpnesses which the fine hand of nature has given them. They are not so pleasant to feel,—but, in return, the legend is so visible, that at the first look you see whose image and superscription they bear."

Sentimental Journey, Vol. II. p. 87.