ce lately appeared in
France, which excited so much surprise by its cleverness, that an
inquiry was set on foot for its author. He was found seated in a
cabriolet in the streets, his vocation being that of a driver. What
renders his knowledge more surprising is the fact, that the man was
never a soldier at all; but, having a great deal of leisure, while
waiting for his fares, he had turned his attention to this subject, and
had obtained all he knew by means of books. Nothing is more common than
to see the drivers of cabriolets and fiacres reading in their seats; and
I have even seen market-women, under their umbrellas, _a la Robinson_,
with books in their hands. You are not, however, to be misled by these
facts, which merely show the influence of the peculiar literature of the
country, so attractive and amusing; for a very great majority of the
French can neither read nor write. It is only in the north that such
things are seen at all, except among the soldiers, and a large
proportion of even the French army are entirely without schooling.

To return to the cavalry, I have heard the superiority of the French
ascribed also to their dexterity in the use of the sabre, or, as it is
termed here, _l'arme blanche_. After all, this is rather a poetical
conclusion; for charges of cavalry rarely result in regular hand-to-hand
conflicts. Like the bayonet, the sabre is seldom used except on an
unresisting enemy. Still, the consciousness of such a manual superiority
might induce a squadron less expert to wheel away, or to break, without
waiting for orders.

I have made the acquaintance, here, of an old English general, who has
passed all his life in the dragoons, and who commanded brigades of
cavalry in Spain and at Waterloo. As he is a sensible old man, of great
frankness and simplicity of character, perfect good breeding and good
nature, and moreover, so far as I can discover, absolutely without
prejudice against America, he has quite won my heart, and I have availed
myself of his kindness to see a good deal of him. We walk together
frequently, and chat of all things in heaven and earth, just as they
come uppermost. The other day I asked him to explain the details of a
charge of his own particular arm to me, of which I confessed a proper
ignorance. "This is soon done," said the old gentleman, taking my arm
with a sort of sly humour, as if he were about to relate something
facetious: "against foot, a charge is a menace; if they br