I.

Like the Englishman who had no prejudices, I do hate a Frenchman; and

there were many Frenchmen among our passengers on the _Messina_, in

whose company I could hardly have been happy, had I not seen them

horribly sea-sick. After the imprudent old gentleman of the sardines

and fruit-pie, these wretched Gauls were the first to be seized with

the malady, which became epidemic, and were miserable up to the last

moment on board. To the enormity of having been born Frenchmen, they

added the crime of being commercial travellers,--a class of fellow-men

of whom we know little at home, but who are met everywhere in European

travel. They spend more than half their lives in movement from place

to place, and they learn to snatch from every kind of travel its

meagre comforts, with an insolent disregard of the rights and feelings

of other passengers. They excuse an abominable trespass with a cool

"Pardon!" take the best seat everywhere, and especially treat women

with a savage rudeness, to which an American vainly endeavors to

accustom his temper. I have seen commercial travellers of all nations,

and I think I must award the French nation the discredit of producing

the most odious commercial travellers in the world. The Englishman

of this species wraps himself in his rugs, and rolls into his corner,

defiantly, but not aggressively, boorish; the Italian is almost a

gentleman; the German is apt to take sausage out of a newspaper and

eat it with his penknife; the Frenchman aggravates human nature beyond

endurance by his restless ill-breeding, and his evident intention not

only to keep all his own advantages, but to steal some of yours upon

the first occasion. There were three of these monsters on our

steamer: one a slight, bloodless young man, with pale blue eyes and

an incredulous grin; another, a gigantic full-bearded animal in

spectacles; the third an infamous plump little creature, in absurdly

tight pantaloons, with a cast in his eye, and a habit of sucking his

teeth at table. When this wretch was not writhing in the agonies of

sea-sickness, he was on deck with his comrades, lecturing them upon

various things, to which the bloodless young man listened with his

incredulous grin, and the bearded giant in spectacles attended with a

choked look about the eyes, like a suffering ox. They were constantly

staggering in and out of their state-room, which, for my sins, was

also mine; and opening their abominable commodious travelling bags, or

brushing their shaggy heads at the reeling mirror, and since they

were born into the world, I think they had never cleaned their

finger-nails. They wore their hats at dinner, but always went away,

after soup, deadly pale.

Italian Journeys · 第 34 / 115 题