From London Sir Wilfrid passed to Paris. It was before the days of the _entente cordiale_. In Egypt, in Soudan, in Siam, in Newfoundland, the interests of Britain and those of France were clashing, and there was much talk of age-long rivalry and inevitable war. The reports which had reached Paris of the strong expressions, uttered by a son of New France, of attachment and loyalty to the Empire and the Queen had made still more bitter the memories of the 'few acres of snow' lost in 1763. There was much wonder as to what Laurier would say on French soil. His message there was the same. The French Canadians, he said, had not forgotten the {182} France of their ancestors: they cherished its memories and its glories. 'In passing through this city, beautiful above all cities, I have noted upon many a public building the proud device that the armies of the Republic carried through Europe--Liberty, Equality, Fraternity. Very well: all that there is of worth in that device, we possess to-day in Canada. We have liberty absolute, complete, liberty for our religion, our language, for all the institutions which our ancestors brought from France and which we regard as a sacred heritage.... If, on becoming subjects of the British Crown, we have been able to keep our ancient rights and even acquire new ones, upon the other hand we have undertaken obligations which, descended as we are from a chivalrous race, we recognize in full and hold ourselves in honour bound to proclaim. May I be permitted to make a personal reference? I am told that here in France there are people surprised at the attachment that I feel for the Crown of England and which I do not conceal. Here that is called _loyalisme_. (For my part, may I say in passing, I do not like that newly coined expression, _loyalisme_: I much prefer to keep to the good old French word _loyaute_.) And certainly, if there is one thing that the story {183} of France has taught me to regard as an attribute of the French race, it is loyalty, it is the heart's memory. I recall, gentlemen, those fine lines which Victor Hugo applied to himself, as explaining the inspiration of his life: Fidele au double sang qu'ont verse dans ma veine, Mon pere vieux soldat, ma mere vendeenne. That double fidelity to ideas and aspirations, quite distinct, is our glory in Canada. We are faithful to the great nation which gave us life, and we are faithful to the great nation which has given us liberty!'