How this good Frenchman does shine by the side of another type, a type which, I am happy to say, is rare—the one who drops his country.
The latter, when he speaks of England, says: "We do this, we do that, in England," not "The English do this, the English do that." He would like to say, "We English," but he hardly dares go that length.
He dresses à l'anglaise with a vengeance, makes it a point to frequent only English houses, and spends a good deal of his time in running down his compatriots.
He does not belong to any of the French societies or clubs in England. These establishments, however, do not miss him much more than his own country.
I once knew one of this category. His name ended with an e mute preceded by a double consonant. The e mute was a real sore to him, the grief of his life. Without it he might have passed for English. It was too provoking to be thus balked, and, as he signed his name, he would dissimulate the poor offending little vowel, so that his name should appear to end at the double consonant.
He was not a genius.
[ Acting ] under the theory of Figaro, "Qu'il n'est pas nécessaire de tenir les choses pour en raisonner," I have heard an Englishman, engaged in teaching French, maintain that it was not necessary to be able to speak the French language to teach it.
On the other hand, I once heard an eminent Frenchman hold that the less English a French master knew the more fit he was to teach French.
Both gentlemen begged their audience to understand that they made their statements on their own sole responsibility.