nexions, what can be expected but alienation and distance -infidelity and adultery? Accordingly, it is no uncommon thing in Paris for a married woman to have what is called her L'ami de maison, (friend of the family,) who visits her as he pleases without any interruption from her lawful husband-to whom the boudoir of his mistress is always sacred--and who is so necessary an evil in the house, a thing so generally tolerated, that in many cases he actually bears his part in the expenses of the establish ment. "The lady, of course, allows her husband the liberty she takes, and he is sent abroad to find a similar post of honour in some other house, to that which he suffers the beloved of his wife to occupy in his own. From such a state of things, therefore, every shadow of domestic intercourse and association is excluded. A family table is seldom spread—a family circle is seldom gathered. They repair to the restaurateurs to dine-to the coffee-houses for coffee, and to the theatre, or even to worse places, for the evening's occupation and amusement. Thus they live in public-eat and drink in public-and one might almost imagine from their fondness for publicity, that they would sleep in public, or never sleep at all. Pleasure, exhibition and intrigue, seem to be the great ends of their existence." 66 "The climate of France and the character of the French," says Mr. Scott, speaking of the manners at Paris, conspire to cause them to seek their pleasures out of doors. Home is the only place they neglect; it is a place only for their necessities; they must sleep there-and the tradesmen must transact their business there: a bed, a table, and a few chairs, are therefore wanted; and a small room or two, uncarpeted and bare, must be hired. I speak, of course, of the middle and inferior classes. But all that is comfortable and inspiring they seek out of doors; and all that they pride themselves in being able to procure is in the shape of decoration and amusement. "The French read a good deal; and evidences that they do, are every where apparent in Paris. The females in public situations in trade are all seen reading,--never working with their needles. Even the poor girls, who sit by the stalls where toys are sold, are generally occupied by a book when not engaged with a customer. I have looked over their shoulders, and seen Madame de Genlis, Madame Sevigné, Voltaire, Marmontel, in their hands. This is just as if, in London, the apple-women should be observed reading the Spectator, or Boswell's Life of Johnson, or Pope's works-an appearance which would be deemed a phenomenon. The common classes of the French, therefore, are polished and conversable to a degree unknown in England." In every part of France, says Mr. Birkbeck, women employ themselves in offices, which are deemed in England unsuitable to the sex. Here is no sexual distinction of employment: the women undertake any task they are able to perform, without much notion of its fitness or unfitness. This applies to all classes, the wives of tradesmen, manufacturers, and farmers. In every shop and warehouse you see the activity of the females. In the south, you see them threshing with the men under a burning sun; it is a family party, threshing out the crop of their own freehold: the woman is holding the ploughthe plough, the horse, and the land, are her husbands's or father's, who is sowing the wheat while she is turning it in. "As to home," says Mr. Simond, "it is no resource at all; no one thinks of the possibility of employing his time there, either by himself or with his family. Upon the whole, I do not believe there is a country in the world where you see so many long faces, care-worn and cross, as among the very people who are deemed, and believe themselves, the merriest in the world. A man of rank, who has spent many years in the Crimea, who employed himself diligently and usefully when there, and who naturally likes a country where he has done much good, praising it to a friend, has been heard to remark, as the main objection to a residence otherwise delightful,—But one is obliged to go to bed every evening at seven o'clock, because in the Crimea, one knows not where to go to pass the evenings.' This remark at Paris excites no surprise, every, one feels there is no alternative, some place, not home, to spend your evenings in, or to bed at seven o'clock. It puts one in mind of a gentleman, who hesitated about marrying a lady, whose company he liked very much, 'for, as he observed, where then shall I spend my evenings?' 6 Observance of Sunday. Sunday is but slightly observed in France at any season, and scarcely at all in harvest. Some go to church for about an hour, but before and after hardly any indications of the sabbath are perceptible. The theatres and other places of amusement are open and more frequented on that day than on any other; and every village in France has its rural ball on Sunday evening. In Paris public works, trade, and commerce are little, if at all disturbed. "The city and its inhabitants," says Mr. Raffles, 66 present one uniform scene of gayety and indifference; and were it not for the processions which sometimes occur upon the festivals of the church, a man, who never counted the days or consulted his almanac, might live for months in Paris, and not know that a sabbath had passed." In the countries, on the continent of Europe, especially with the Catholics, the sabbath terminates with the morning service; and no obligation is felt by the people with regard to the evening of the day. In France, the Protestants are represented as no less lax with respect to the observance of the sabbath than the Catholics. Miss Williams, in vindicating the French Protestants, observes, that "the general custom throughout France is to celebrate Sunday, not as a day of religious seclusion, but of liberty and gladness, and the Protestants are French; the same usages therefore prevail amongst them, as amongst the Catholics. The religious duties of the morning performed, the evening is given to amusements." Roads and Travelling. The great roads are excellent, but the cross roads are generally in a wretched state. The roads in France differ in several respects from those in England; they are straight, broad, paved, and planted on both sides with chesnut trees, poplars, walnut, mulberry, and other fruit trees. A French diligence, says Mr. Scott, is a carriage whose external appearance indicates it to be a mixed species, formed by the union of a waggon and a stage-coach. There is a great want of arrangement, of suitableness, completeness, and nicety visible about itself and all its appur tenances; but this, after the first disgust it occasions isover, excites admiration of the dexterity of the people, who contrive to get it on, with the most awkward and insufficient means in the world, very nearly as well as they do who are the most exact and scrupulous in their preparations. "We left Rouen," says Mr. Raffles, "early yesterday morning, and reached Paris, between 90 and 100 miles, by 9 o'clock last night. You would have supposed, however, had you seen our cattle and harness at starting, that we should have been two or three days at least, in performing the journey. The horses are taken just as they happen to be wanted, from the field, the cart, or the plough, and yoked to your carriage, with ropes fastened to their backs with wretched straps, that altogether cut a worse appearance than the most miserable hawker's cart in the streets of London. "Nor does the postillion make a less extraordinary figure than his horses. His enormous boots, weighing from 5 to 7 pounds each, in which there is room for two legs of ordinary size-his powdered hair and long pigtailhis enormous whip, in the smacking of which he makes the most wonderful evolutions over his head, and the most terrible noise that can be imagined, and by the regulation of which, on principles known to themselves, he apprises the post-master, as he enters a town or village, whether the travellers be French or English, and whether they pay well or ill-altogether make up so grotesque a figure, that though often described, I could not deny myself the pleasure of sketching its outline. With all these disadvantages, however, the road is in your favour, being generally straight and level-kept in excellent repair -soft on either side, with pavement in the centre-and usually lined with trees, sometimes in double rows.' Of the diligence another tourist observes, 66 every thing here is life, motion, and joy. The moment you enter, you are on terms of the most perfect familiarity with the whole set of your travelling companions. In an instant every tongue is at work, and every individual bent upon making themselves happy for the moment, and contributing to the happiness of their fellow travellers. Talking, joking, laughing, singing, reciting, every enjoyment that is light and pleasureable, is instantly adopted. Some species of round game, like cross-purposes, involving forfeits, is frequently played in a diligence, and gives rise to much mirth." "To kinder skies, where gentler manners reign, With tuneless pipe, beside the murm'ring Loire ! So blessed a life these thoughtless relms display, Here passes current; paid from hand to hand, They please, are pleased, they give to get esteem, GOLDSMITH. |