How to Enjoy Paris in 1842 | Page 2

neighbours conceive that an attempt is made to insinuate that
they are regarded in the light of inferiority, as compared with any other
nation, hatred to the individual who seeks to humiliate them or their
country is instantly engendered, and in all their transactions and
communications with their soi-disant superior, they will either take
some advantage, behave with sullenness, or avail themselves of some
opportunity of displaying the ascerbid feeling which has been created:
not that I would wish an Englishman to subdue that just and natural
pride which he must ever feel when he reflects on the pinnacle of
greatness which his country has attained, through the genius, industry,
and valour of her sons; yet it is a suaviter in modo which I wish him to
preserve in his outward bearing towards the French, without ever
compromising the fortiter in re.
I shall now endeavour to illustrate the above theory by citing some
instances wherein its axioms were brought into practice under my own
observation, and which I trust will convince my readers that it is not
from visionary ideas I have formed my conclusions, and that the
conduct I recommend to the traveller in France must in a great degree
tend to the promotion of his happiness, whilst traversing or residing in
foreign climes; as although in other countries the same degree of
sensitiveness will not be found as that which exists amongst the French,
a mild and unassuming deportment is always appreciated on the

Continent, where tradespeople and even servants are not accustomed to
be treated in that haughty dictatorial manner, too often adopted by my
countrymen towards those to whom they are in the habit of giving their
orders.
It is now about twelve years since, whilst I was staying at the Hôtel de
Bourbon, at Calais, that I was much struck by the very opposite traits of
countenance and difference of demeanour of two gentlemen at the table
d'hôte, who appeared nevertheless to be most intimate friends; it was
evident they were both English and proved to be brothers. Ever
accustomed to study the physiognomies of those around me, I
contemplated theirs with peculiar attention, having discovered by their
conversation that they were to be my companions on my journey to
Paris; and it required no great powers of penetration to perceive that the
elder was decided upon viewing all with a jaundiced eye, whilst the
younger was disposed to be pleased and in good humour, with all
around him. The conducteur announcing that the Diligence was ready
and that we must speedily take our seats, abruptly interrupted all my
physiognomical meditations, and we quickly repaired to the heavy
lumbering vehicle in which we were destined to be dragged to the gay
metropolis. Our names being called over in rotation, I found that the
brothers had engaged places in the coupé as well as myself, but having
priority of claim, had wisely chosen the two corners, the vacant seat in
the middle falling to my lot; and I believe, as it proved, it was not a bad
arrangement, as I acted as a sort of sand-bag between two jars, which
prevented their jarring; in fact I formed a sort of juste milieu between
two extremes, and no sooner were we installed in our respective places,
than my mediating powers were called into operation, as the following
dialogue will exemplify.
"They gave us a very nice dinner, sir," said the good humoured brother
who sat on my left.
I replied that I was very well satisfied with it.
"But you don't know what their messes are made of. For my part I like
to know what, I eat," observed the discontented brother on my right,
"and you don't mean surely, sir, to say that such as they gave us was

anything to compare to a good English dinner."
That, I remarked, was entirely an affair of taste; that I myself was most
partial to the simpler mode of living of the English, but not so the high
aristocracy of our country, with whom French cooks are in the greatest
estimation.
"I was very much pleased with the vin ordinaire, as they call it, and
found it a pleasant light wine, particularly agreeable when one is
thirsty," said Good Humour.
"Light enough at any rate," returned Discontent, "and well named vin
ordinaire, for ordinary it is in every sense of the word, pretty much like
themselves for that; but if you like to have any when we are in England,
I'll make you some; take a little port wine, put some vinegar and a good
deal of water with it and there you have it at once; is not that your
opinion, sir?"
I replied, that I considered it a beverage well adapted for a sort of
draught wine,