Friend “interpreter guide” said he knew all the big business houses in the city, so he selected a firm which the American accepted without making the slightest investigation.  A bank agreed to take care of the shipments and the whole transaction was quickly concluded.  The American grabbed the papers in the case (and I might add without the formality of having them examined by a third party) and left France immensely impressed with the ease and swiftness with which business could be transacted with that country.

But there was an unexpected and unfortunate sequel to this performance.  A few months later another officer of this American company came post-haste to France to straighten out an ugly tangle.  It developed that the French firm chosen by the “interpreter guide” was not of the highest standing:  that the interpreter, for reasons and profits best known to himself, had entirely misrepresented the conversation, that instead of paying four per cent for services, the American firm was really paying about ten.  The whole transaction had to be called off and a new one instituted at considerable expense of time and money.

Another American came to Paris without knowing the language, used an interpreter every day for nine weeks, and was unable to place a single order.  Yet in this time he spent enough money on his language intermediary to pay the rent of a suitable office in Paris for a whole year.

The dependence of Americans with important interests or commissions upon interpreters is well nigh incredible.  On the steamer that took me to France last summer was the new Continental Manager of a large American manufacturing company.  I assumed, of course, that he could speak French.  A few days after I arrived in Paris I met him in the Boulevard des Italiens in the grip of a five franc a day interpreter.  He told me with great enthusiasm that an interpreter was “the greatest institution in the world.”  In six months he will probably reverse his opinion.

The lesson of this lack of knowledge of French as applied to salesmanship is this:  That while the average Frenchman is greatly flattered when you tell him that his English is good, he prefers to talk business in his own vernacular.  He thinks and calculates better in French.  Frequently when you engage him in conversation in English and the question of business comes up, you find that he instinctively lapses into his mother tongue.

I was talking one day with Monsieur Ribot, the French Minister of Finance, whose English is almost above reproach, and who maintained the integrity of his English through a long conversation.  But the moment I asked him a question about the proposed bond issue, he shifted into French and kept that key until every financial rock had been passed.

In short, you find that if you want to do business in France, you must know the French language.  It is one of the keys to an understanding of the French temperament.