"A capital remark! I am sure we shall understand one another," whispers M. Gueronnay. "The cry here is always for large quantities. The Englishman throws down his sovereign and wants a hundred-weight of music in return. _Mon cher Docteur_, you should come to Paris. Do not smile, and do not allow our friend here to make you too partial to the English. Sir John is the best fellow in the world, but _entre nous_, he is very queer. But you, my dear doctor, you have _esprit_, you are not without a certain talent for observation. Why should you rest in this town? I am sure your eyes will be opened after your first quarter of a year in Paris. _Par Dieu_, Paris! Does not the whole of the civilised world wear the cast-off clothes of Paris? It is quite ridiculous your shaking your head at our having got rid of our constitution; but in return Europe trembles at our nod, and _enfin ça ne durera pas_. We may change and change again. Constitutions of original Paris-make we have in plenty. We have had more of them than England, Germany, and Italy--in fact, what is there that Paris has not? Do you want religion? there is _Lacordaire_ and _Lamennais_; and there is the _Univers_--religions of all shades. Are you fond of philosophy and religion? Go to Prudhon. To tell you the truth, I myself do not care for philosophy and religion; they are either of them _mauvais genre_. I am for civilisation and property; and I should not mind seeing M. Prudhon hanged, but that does not prevent me, as a Frenchman, being very fond of him. In one word, the world is but a bad imitation of Paris. In Paris you find heaven and hell, order and liberty, the romance of orgies, and the solitude of the cloister, in the most charming harmony and in the grandest and most elegant form. But above all," said M. Gueronnay, very impressively, "do not believe that you will ever learn to speak the French language unless you go to Paris. Impossible; you will never catch the accent. And England is the worst climate for French pronunciation that can be found. Look at me! I, a Parisian, still feel the pestilential influence of this English jargon, which they are presumptuous enough to call a language, and whenever I go back from London I am ashamed of myself, and dare not speak to the family of my porter."