How to Enjoy Paris in 1842. Francis Hervé

that invincible demon national prejudice. I am perfectly aware that it is a hopeless attempt even to imagine that there is the slightest chance of ameliorating its force. I consider it more immoveable than a rock, because by dint of time you may cut that away, or you may blast it with gunpowder; but I know of no means which can soften the adamantine strength of national prejudice. One might naturally suppose that a long communication between the two countries, a mutual interchange of kindnesses, the number of intermarriages by which the two nations have become so connected with each other, would have contributed in some degree to diminish the asperity of that bitter feeling against the French which we acquire in our school-boy days, but which reason and commerce with the world, it might be expected, would correct. As there is no argument so powerful as exemplification, I will here cite two instances amongst the hundreds that have come within my knowledge, of the extreme incorrigibility of the baneful sentiment to which I allude. I once travelled with a Mr. Lewis from Paris to Dieppe, and found him a man of considerable information, very gentlemanly in his address and manners, and possessing such colloquial powers as contributed to render the journey particularly agreeable; he was an enthusiastic admirer of the arts, and was very fond of drawing, and certainly excelled in that accomplishment, from the very beautiful sketches he showed me which he had made in different parts of France, and in fact was an amateur artist of considerable merit. He gave me a very interesting account of his tour through France and of the kindness he had met with from the inhabitants; that in many instances when he had been sketching the chateaux of the nobility and gentry, how often it had occurred that the proprietors had come out and invited him to breakfast or dinner, according to the hour, or at any rate to take some refreshment; and several sent for his portemanteau from the inn where he had put up (sometimes without his knowledge), compelling him to pass the night at their chateau. On my making some remark as to the urbanity of the French, "Oh! don't think," he exclaimed, "that I am praising them as a nation, for I hate them; I only speak of facts as they happened." I then asked him how he was treated at the inns in the different provinces, and whether he was much imposed upon. "I cannot say I was," he replied, "or in any instance that I had reason to complain of my treatment."

      From this gentleman's account of the reception he had met with in France, would not any rational being have imagined that he would speak well of the French? instead of which, I soon had the most powerful proofs to the contrary. When we arrived at Dieppe we found a party assembled at the table d'hôte, at the hôtel at which we alighted, consisting of a few French but, more of English; the former left the room as soon as the cloth was withdrawn, and the latter remaining, the conversation became general and very patriotic; and as the merits of England and the English rose in the discussion, so did the demerits of France and the French sink, and at last bumpers were drank to old England for ever, in which we all joyously joined. This was all very natural and proper, but this ebullition of national and praiseworthy feeling had hardly subsided, when Mr. Lewis, the very man who had admitted that he had been received with kindness and hospitality wherever he had been in France, arose, and said, "Now, gentlemen, I have another toast to propose to you, which I hope will be drank with the same enthusiasm as the last; so "Here's a curse for France and the French." All immediately drank it but myself and an elderly gentleman, who declared he would not invoke a curse upon any land or any people. A silent pause intervened; every one appeared to look at the other, as to how they ought to act on their toast being refused, none caring to assume the initiative. At last, one rising from his chair, who perhaps began to view the affair temperately, observed, "Well, I think we had better see about the packet-boat for Brighton before it is too late," and they all quitted the room, except the elderly gentlemen and myself, and he did certainly animadvert most severely against what he termed their unchristianlike toast. Although it was impossible for me, feeling as I did, otherwise than to agree with him on the principal points of his argument, yet I observed that we might hope that it was merely in words that the gentlemen would evince the violence of their prejudices, as I felt convinced, from the general amiability of character so apparent in the person who proposed the toast, that if he saw a Frenchman in danger of his life, and that an exertion could save him, that Mr. Lewis would use every effort to preserve a human being from destruction, whatever might be his country.

      The other circumstance to which I am about to advert was less his surprising, though equally powerful, in illustrating the strong tendency towards prejudice against the French on the part of the English people, the hero of my tale being a regular country squire, extremely kind hearted, but whose fund of information did not extend much beyond his estate, his horses and his hounds; not any consideration would have induced him to quit England, but that of saving the life of an individual, for whom, however worthless and ungrateful, he still retained a sentiment of pity; a young man, whom he had brought up and educated, in return for his kindness forged his name, and the evidence of the squire was all that was requisite to hang him, therefore, as an effectual means of avoiding to be forced to appear against him, he quitted England; and, as France was the nearest, he there took up his abode. A friend of mine, a Capt. W., who had resided long in France, received a letter of introduction to the squire; although living at a considerable distance from his residence, he took an opportunity of presenting it. Having heard that the captain had been in France many years, the Squire was not disposed to receive him very cordially, considering that so doing was disgraceful on the part of an Englishman unless he was forced to do so by circumstances such as had compelled himself to quit his native country. The consequence was, that he eyed the Captain in a manner that was far from flattering to his feelings; but when he had read the highly recommendatory panegyric contained within the letter, the Squire softened, and soon greeted the stranger with a true hearty English welcome, and their respective families afterwards became most intimately acquainted: the Squire, delighted to find a countryman to whom he could communicate his execrations against France and the French, whilst the Captain did all in his power to defend them from all unjust attacks, having himself had favourable experience of their urbanity and kindness. Some time after the Squire's arrival the Captain removed to Boulogne, and as some grand ceremony was to be there celebrated with military and ecclesiastical pomp and parade, in the presence of the royal family, he invited the Squire and his family to pass a few days with him, that they might witness so grand a spectacle; adding, that there would be twenty thousand troops assembled for the purpose. The Squire immediately flew into a violent passion, and vowed he would accept the invitation on no other terms than that he could take with him thirty thousand Englishman to cut their rascally French throats. At length he gave his consent that his daughter should pass a few days with the family of Capt. W., and at the same time accompany them, to see the ceremony which was to take place. Partaking of her father's feelings, all the way on the road she launched out abusing every thing that was French and in fact all that she encountered until the moment that she witnessed the imposing spectacle. She was then standing within the church with the Captain amongst the crowd, but some officers perceiving an English lady of genteel appearance, invited her to join the circle composed of the Duchesses of Angoulême, of Berri, and the ladies of the court, which she gladly accepted; and several fine looking young men in their brilliant uniforms paying her the greatest attentions, and taking the utmost pains that she should have the best possible view of the sight, her heart was completely won, and when she was re-conducted to Capt. W., her first exclamation was, "Well, as long as I live, I never will speak against Frenchmen again; for I never was treated with so much politeness and attention in my own country as I have been here." But when she expressed the same feeling to her father, his rage knew no bounds, and at the first moment he swore he would take her off to England instanter, adding "I suppose I shall have my family disgraced by your running off with some French mustachioed scoundrel or another." The poor girl dared not say another word, and in a little time the father recovered his equanimity.

      However furious the Squire was in expressions against the French, yet his actions towards them were of a contrary bearing, having a well stocked medicine chest, from which he liberally dispensed the contents amongst the neighbouring poor, according to their different maladies, until he received the cognomen of the English doctor who would never take a fee. The people at last became so grateful for his kindness, that when there was a report that war was likely to take place between the two countries, as he displayed some uneasiness as to his being able to return home, they assured him he should always be certain of cattle to convey him to Calais, as, if he could not procure post horses, they would find some in the neighbourhood for him, and if none could be found, they would