How to Enjoy Paris in 1842 | Page 6

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