fortable; built for the most part of brick, and slated in the roof; nowhere exhibiting the slighest symptoms of dilapidation. These houses have almost all a garden attached to them, in the cultivation of which the poor people display, not only extreme industry, but a degree of taste superior to what might be expected from their condition in life.' The farm-steadings and implements of husbandry, in all parts of Flanders, are greatly superior to those in France. The waggons are not only more numerous on the roads, but greatly neater in their construction than in France; the ploughs are of a better construction, and the farm offices both more extensive and in better repair. Every thing, in short, indicated a much more improved and opulent class of agriculturists, and a country in which the fundamental expenses of cultivation had long been incurred. 'Near Cambray, the wages of labour are one franc a-day. Near Valenciennes, and from that to Mons, they are from one franc to 25 sous, that is, from 10d. to 123d. From Mons to Brussels, and round that town, from one franc to 30 sous, that is from 10d. to 15d.' Vol. II. describes a journey from Paris to Aix in Provence, performed in November 1814. The party on this occasion consisted of three ladies, a child, a servant, and a gentleman whose health had been shaken by the climate of India. Comfort being more an object with them than expedition, they declined the stage-coaches (diligences) as well as the ordinary mode of posting, in favour of an alternative which is much practised on the continent, viz. that of travelling all the way in the same hired carriage, and with the same horses. Their rate of daily progress was about thirty miles; and the average expense at the inns for beds, breakfast, and dinner (or, as the inn-keepers chose to call it, supper), was from a guinea to twenty-five shillings per day for the whole party. This expenditure seems to be very reasonable: but we are to take into the account that the accommodation was inferior to that which we should expect, were we to form our ideas from our own country. 'There is about every town and village an air of desolation; most of the houses seem to have wanted repairs for a long time. The inns must strike every English traveller as being of a kind entirely new to him. They are like great old castles half fur. nished. The dirty chimneys suit but ill with the marble chimneypieces, and the gilded chairs and mirrors, plundered in the Revolution; the tables from which you eat are dirty common wood; the linen coarse though clean. The cutlery, where they have any, is very bad; but in many of the inns they put down only forks to dinner.' Nevers. We went to walk in the town this morning.-(Sunday.) The description of one French town on the Sunday will serve for all the towns which we have seen. They are every day filthy, but on Sunday, from the concourse of people, more than commonly dirty. They never have a pavement to fly to for clean walking, and for safety from the carriages. If you are near a shop, a lane, or entry when a carriage comes along you may fly in, if not, you must trust to the civility of the coachman, who, if polite, will only splash you all over, if otherwise, will squeeze you against the wall, in a way that at least, frightens you to death. On Sundays, their markets are held the same as on other days, and nearly all the shops had their doors open, but their windows shut.' 'The shopkeepers are, as in every town we have been at, perfect Jews, devoid of any thing like principle in buying and selling. One told my sister that he would give her 19 francs for her English guineas; another first offered her 20 francs, and on hearing that she expected 26, immediately offered her 25. We are every day learning more and more how to overcome our scruples with regard to beating them down. They always expect it, and only laugh at the silly English who do not practise it.' 'To-morrow, we set out at seven.-We find our way of travelling very tedious; but I think in summer it would be by far the best. Our three horses seldom take less than 10, sometimes 13 hours to their day's journey, of from 28 to 32 miles; but our carriage is large and roomy; and had we any thing like comfort at our inns, as at home, we should find the travelling very pleasant. The greatest annoyance arises from your having always to choose from the two evils, either of being cheated most shamefully, or of higgling and trafficking for your meals beforehand.' The cottages on the road, and in the small towns, are completely in the Maclarty style; the men, women, children, pigs, fowls, &c. all pigging together. The pigs here are so well accustomed to entring the houses, that when they are shut up, you see them, as it were rapping at the door with their snouts.-On being annoyed this morning by a most inhuman smell, I went into the kitchen, and found, that a gentlemen had just arrived, wearing one of the many badges of honour at his button, and having his lady with him; they had just ordered some whole onions to be fried in butter!! A French breakfast!!' On arriving at Avignon, the travellers were pleased with the cleanness of the streets, and the respectable appearance of some of the houses. They visited with great eagerness the classic stream of Vaucluse, and the site of the tomb of Laura; we say the site, because the tomb, if it exists, has not been cleared from the earth that covers it, and is known only by a small cypress-tree planted to mark the spot. In two days more they reached Aix; where they remained above three months, and were just beginning to complain of the monotony of the scene, when Bonaparte, landing at Cannes, threw the whole country into a ferment. At Aix, as in other towns of France, he was at first branded as a traitor who came to rob the country of the happy tranquillity which she was enjoying under the Bourbons;' and it could only be the English government which, in its unrelenting hatred to France, had let loose this brigand' Such were the feelings, not only of the royalists, but of the greater part of the republicans, as long as they dreaded a civil war: but the disposition of the latter became favourable to Bonaparte, as soon as they saw him in quiet possession of the government at Paris. They had by that time persuaded themselves that he had been recalled by the majority of the nation; and they were weak enough to give credit to a tale, which he artfully circulated, of his having concluded a twenty years' truce with the allies, before he lett Elba. Our travellers, however, determined to set out without delay, and to seek an opportunity of embarking at Bourdeaux, before they should be exposed to that indefinite detention of which, on a preceding Occasion, so many of our countrymen had been the victims. Their route to Bordeaux lay through Languedoc; and they traversed that province at the time when the duke D'Angouleme was making an ineffectual attempt to stem the torrent of military defection. Though they advanced at the rate of only thirty miles in a day, they were the first bearers of authentic news to every inn; or rather they were the only persons in those homely receptacles who were enabled to appreciate the ridiculous stories circulated among a thoughtless and credulous people. The inhabitants appeared almost every where to be royalists; the troops alone maintained a gloomy silence. It is common in some parts of France to travel in what are called coches d'eau, or passage boats; the comforts of which, in Languedoc at least, appear to be much on a level with those of the country-inns. • Wednesday, 22d March.-Left Pezenas at half past five, and arrived to breakfast at half past nine at Beziers. We went to see the coches d'eau, described as superbs and magnifiques by our French friends. Their ideas differ from ours. It would be perfectly impossible for an English lady to go in such a conveyance, and few gentlemen, even if alone, and with only a portmanteau, would venture. The objections are-there is but one room for all classes of people; they start at three and four each morning; stop at miserable inns, and if you have heavy baggage, it must be 477 shifted at the locks, which is tedious, and costs a great deal. Tuesday, the 28th.-This morning, at three, I left my party, and took a very light gig, determined (as the news were getting daily worse, and the road full of English hurrying to Bordeaux) to post it from Agen. By paying the post-boys doubie hires, we got on very fast, and although we broke down several times, we arrived at Bordeaux at six in the evening, a distance of more than a hundred miles. The country from Agen to Bordeaux is the richest I have seen in France, chiefly laid out in vines, dressed with much more care than any we have yet seen; a good deal also of fine wheat, and some meadows of grass pasture. Every thing is much further advanced than in Languedoc, even allowing for the advance in the days we have passed in travelling. Barley in the ear, and some even yellowing. Bourdeaux is a noble town, though not so fine, I think, as Marseilles.' 'Thursday, the 30th.-Things look very ill. The fort of Blaye has hoisted the tri-coloured flag. The town of Bourdeaux is in a dead calm; but I am sure all is not well. The cries of Vive le Roi are not heard to-day. The Duchess d'Angouleme passed through the streets to-day, and visited the casernes of the troops. Poor woman! her exertions are incessant. To her addressess the people are enthusiastic in their replies, but the troops are sullen and silent; they answered, that they would not forget their duty to her, as far as not injuring her. I hope that she passed our door this evening for the last time, and that she has left Bourdeaux. Every individual in Bourdeaux, the troops excepted, hate and detest the tyrant as cordially as he detests them. Friday, the 31st-We left Bourdeaux at half past five: the utmost tranquillity in the streets; not a soul stirring. Our coachman reported, that general Clausel had reached the gates, and that the national guard had been beat off.-Arrived at the inn at half way, we met with the Marquis de Valsuzenai, who confirmed the bad news: the town has capitulated without almost a shot. Two men only have been killed; a miserable resistance! But it could not be otherwise, as no militia could long stand against regulars. Still I expected tumults in the streets, rising among the inhibitants; weeping and wailing. But no.' The conclusion of the narrative informs us that, after a tedious and uncomfortable passage, the party landed in Devonshire and proceeded to Scotland. The rest of the second volume is occupied with an account of the state of France, political and social; with a variety of observations on Bonaparte; and finally with a comparative register of the weather from December, 1814, to the succeeding March, in which the respective temperatures of Aix and Edinburgh are contrasted, and found, as we might expect, to exhibit very different results. We extract a few remarks from the part of the volume which is appropriated to national manners. 'An Englishman never dreams of entering into conversation without some previous knowledge upon the point which is the subject of discussion. You will pass but few days in France before you will be convinced, that to a Frenchman this is not at all necessary. The moment he enters the room or caffé, where a circle may happen to be conversing, he immediately takes part in the discussion of whatever nature, or upon whatever subject that may be, is not of the most distant consequence to him. He strikes in with the utmost self-assurance and adroitness, maintains a prominent part in the conversation with the most perfect plausibility; and although from his want of accurate information, he will rarely instruct, he seldom fails to amuse by the exuberance of his fancy, and the rapidity of his elocution. "Un Français," says M. de Steal with great truth, “scait encore parler, lors meme il n'a point d'idees;" and the reason why a Frenchman can do so is, because ideas which are the essential requisites in conversation to any other man, are not so to him. He is in possession of many substitutes, composed of a few of those set phrases and accommodating sentences which fit into any subject: and these mixed up with appropriate nods, significant gestures, and above all with the characteristic shrugging of the shoulders, are ever ready at hand when the tide of his ideas may happen to run shallow. 'He cannot be grave or unhappy, because he never allows himself time to become so. His mind is perpetually busied with the affairs of the moment. If he is in company, he speaks without introduction, to every gentleman in the room. Any thing the most trivial serves him for a hook on which to hang his story; and this generally lasts as long as he has breath to carry him on. He recounts to you, the first hour you meet with him, his whole individual history; diverges into anecdotes about his relations, pulls out his watch, and under the cover shows you the hair of his mistress, apostrophizes the curl-opens his pocket-book, insists upon your reading his letters to her, sings you the song which he composed when he was au desespoir at the parting, asks your opinion of it, then whirls off to a discussion on the nature of love; leaves that the next moment to philosophise upon friendship, compliments you, en passant, and claims you for his friend; hopes that the connection will be perpetual, and concludes by asking you to |