The contrast of character between the French and Germans is strongly illustrated in the behaviour of the postillions of the two countries.
A French postillion is generally either laughing, or fretting, or singing, or swearing, all the time he is on the road. If a hill or a bad road oblige him to go slow, he will of a sudden fall a cracking his whip above his head for a quarter of an hour together, without rhyme or reason; for he knows the horses cannot go a bit faster, and he does not intend they should. All this noise and emotion, therefore, means nothing; and proceeds entirely from that abhorrence of quiet which every Frenchman sucks in with his mother’s milk.
A German postillion, on the contrary, drives four horses with all possible tranquillity. He neither sings, nor frets, nor laughs: he only smokes;—and when he comes near a narrow defile, he sounds his trumpet to prevent any carriage from entering at the other end till he has got through. If you call to him to go faster, he turns about, looks you in the face, takes his pipe from his mouth, and says, Yaw, Mynher;—yaw, yaw; and then proceeds exactly in the same pace as before. He is no way affected whether the road be good or bad; whether it rains, or shines, or snows:—And he seems to be totally regardless of the people whom he drives, and equally callous to their reproach or applause. He has one object of which he never loses sight, which is, to conduct your chaise and the contents from one post to another, in the manner he thinks best for himself and the horses. And unless his pipe goes out (in which case he strikes his flint and rekindles it), he seems not to have another idea during the whole journey.
Your best course is to let him take his own way at first, for it will come to that at last.—All your noise and bluster are vain.
Non vultus instantis tyranni Mente quatit solida, neque Auster Dux inquieti turbidus Adriæ, Nec fulminantis magna Jovis manus.
The attention and civilities which are paid to the D—— of H—— by this court, have induced us to remain longer than we intended at our arrival.
As you seem curious to know how we pass our time, and the style of living here, I shall give you a sketch of one day, which, with little variation, may give you an idea of all the rest.