Beziers is a town which looks pleasant even at the worst time of the
year. A philosopher who wished to renounce all the vanities of the world,
and an Epicurean who would enjoy good cheer cheaply, could find no better
retreat than Beziers.

Everybody at Beziers is intelligent, all the women are pretty, and the
cooks are all artists; the wines are exquisite--what more could one
desire! May its riches never prove its ruin!

When I reached Montpellier, I got down at the "White Horse," with the
intention of spending a week there. In the evening I supped at the table
d'hote, where I found a numerous company, and I saw to my amusement that
for every guest there was a separate dish brought to table.

Nowhere is there better fare than at Montpellier. 'Tis a veritable land
of Cocagne!

The next day I breakfasted at the cafe (an institution peculiar to
France, the only country where the science of living is really
understood), and addressed the first gentleman I met, telling him that I
was a stranger and that I would like to know some of the professors. He
immediately offered to take me to one of the professors who enjoyed a
great reputation.

Herein may be seen another of the good qualities of the French, who rank
above other nations by so many titles. To a Frenchman a foreigner is a
sacred being; he receives the best of hospitality, not merely in form,
but in deed; and his welcome is given with that easy grace which so soon
sets a stranger at his ease.