towns, than of that of the peasants. I have seen wealthy merchants, and even men who moved in excellent circles of society, who thought that England was a part of France, somewhere over in the east, and who believed the United States to be a corner of the Brazilian Empire. I have met advocates, learned in the law, who were astonished to discover that English was spoken in America. The ignorance of some in geography is not more amusing than the ignorance of others in politics. Very respectable men are to be found in Brittany who have an idea that France is still a republic, and in the country once I was assured by an old peasant that the present Emperor of the French was the genuine old Waterloo Bonaparte come back to the throne again! It is well known that the French, which is spoken in Brittany, is far from pure, being inextricably mixed with the old bas-Breton patois. Beyond dress, and the rules of social formalities, the women in Brittany are but poorly educated. They have few accomplishments, know no foreign language well enough to make them useful in speaking or reading, and are very superficially musical on the piThe passion for dress, with them, exceeds all bounds. Ladies will put up with all sorts of inconveniences, will go away from the table hungry, will sit all day on the oaken floors, the coldest winter day, without fires, will even (an instance of which I have lately known) be so niggardly as to ask back their visiting cards when, on calling, they have delivered them to the servant of the friend upon whom they call, in order to save money to lay out on dress. There is in this respect a rivalry among the gentler sex which, the smaller the community, the more bitter and inveterate it is. There being little or no domestic life, and that being by no means a primary consideration in marriages, the daughters are not instructed in the management of the household, or in matters which with us are deemed quite necessary to a young lady's education. Their sole object, apparently, is to be ornamental, and to entangle some young man of means or fam

ano.

ily in the matrimonial trap. To this end, the whole female attention is paid to dress, to the neglect of mental or domestic culture; and when this end has been achieved, the object of the mother's and the daughter's life seems to be accomplished. It is interesting to attend a ball in one of the Breton towns, and to observe how the system works. The young ladies are always attended thither by their mothers. There are in the ball-room usually two rows of seats, one of cushioned benches, and in front of these a row of chairs. The dowagers sit on the benches, and their daughters sit directly in front of them; they are thus securely guarded from any undue flirtation.

The custom is, that any gentleman may, without an introduction, approach any young lady and request her hand for a dance; and it is considered proper to ask the mother's permission before the daughter's. When the quadrille or waltz begins, you observe that the dowagers' eyes are intently fixed upon their children, and are keen to take note of their behavior and the bearing of their partners. Thus it is that young people are watched like state prisoners, as closely as if it were suspected that an elopement had been planned and was about to be put into execution. When a young lady attends school, she is accompanied thither by a bonne; and if she takes lessons in any study from a gentleman, her mother is always present while it is in progress. If a gentleman is invited to dine with a Breton family in which there are daughters, he is not presented to them, nor do they speak during the meal; and after it they invariably retire, and do not re-appear.

The Breton people have at least that fondness for theatrical and musical performances which is common throughout France. There is a theatre in every town, however small, where the latest comedies and vaudevilles are produced, and where, in the winter time, the most simple operas are put on the stage. Very many subscribe year by year, and are to be found nightly in their places. For athletic sports and out-door amusements,

they do not seem inclined. Boating and fishing are somewhat in vogue, but one never hears of cricket matches or hunting parties. The rage for races which has come over the French within the past few years, has extended to Brittany; and there are frequent feeble imitations of the Derby and the Ascot in the various towns during August and September, which the Prefects and military notabilities attend in state, their example being followed by all the surrounding population. One who has attended the great English races, however, would be inclined to smile at these poor travesties of them. The races take place on Sundays, as well as all other public occasions of a festive character. There are but few events in the year to interrupt the monotonous, easy life of the Bretons; when I have mentioned the races, the Emperor's Fête, the New Year's calling, and the Carnival, I have included nearly all.

The Carnival, as a time-honored traditional custom, is still sustained in the towns, although it becomes less and less worthy of the name every year. A procession of carriages and vehicles of every sort, from that of the Prefect with liveried coachman and footman, to the countryman's cart drawn by donkeys, and crowded with the rustic family, goes slowly through the streets, interspersed with masques on foot, playing all sorts of antics, pelted by oranges from the windows on the route, and pelting back in turn. The streets are crowded, and many laughable incidents and scenes occur; for the Bretons, on such occasions, are vivacious and full of a rude humor quite apropos. The Carnival lasts two days, and its close is the signal for the cessation of balls and social festivities. The Emperor's Fête is celebrated by illuminations, torchlight processions, and fireworks, and by a general abandonment, on the part of the lower classes, to intoxication. On New Year's day the Prefect and other public authorities hold official receptions, and society in general exchanges calls. In many cases cards are sent through the post instead of a personal visit; which is a very convenient

way of getting rid of much annoyance and trouble. Clubs are, of course, numerous in Brittany; and the most popular entertainment they offer is gambling. This vice is prevalent among all classes, and is so little stigmatized by public opinion, that rooms are set apart in the fashionable balls for those guests who wish to participate in it.

The mode of living in Brittany is the old-fashioned one of occupying étages; each family having a floor in one of the large houses with which the towns are mostly built. Such a thing as a boardinghouse is quite unknown; and it is really hard to discover what accommodations exist for transient sojourners. Besides the hotels, there is but one single firstclass house where furnished rooms are to be let by the month in Nantes, the principal city. The writer advertised for several months for rooms and board in the same house, but was forced to give up in despair of finding one. One must either rent an étage (which are never let for a shorter term than three years), or stay at an hotel, or take rooms in the single maison meublée (if he can-it is nearly always full), and procure his meals at one of the restaurants.

It is wonderful how tenacious these people are of the old ways; when a man has become possessed of sufficient means to build a new house, he models it after those which were erected centuries ago. Modern improvements are quite ignored. Water conveniences are unknown; gas is, indeed, introduced into the kitchens and parlors, but never into the drawingrooms and studies; such an innovation would do away with the gingerbread decoration of candelabras, and would be shockingly vulgar. Oaken floors, oldfashioned fire-places, dark, damp stone staircases, cheerless vestibules, are found in the new buildings as in the old. One is invited to read and to dance by candlelight, to wash in huge basins, and to dine, in winter, in cold salles à manger with oak under the feet, and the sharp air blowing in under and over the long and badly-secured windows. The visitor of a family living in an étage is not seldom

obliged to pass through the kitchen on his way to the drawing-room; he is very likely, also, to catch a glimpse of several bedrooms. There are many pretty gardens, but they are quite shut out from the view of the passer-by, by the mud and gravel walls which were built before iron fences were known, and which continue to stand as hallowed by ancient usage. Very few families possess houses by themselves, this comfort being confined to the wealthiest classes, who live in the aristocratic quarters, and the poorer, who live in wretched huts in the suburbs.

In temperament the Breton character is more stolid and serious than that of the Parisians. Although fond of display and often talkative, the Breton is less demonstrative. That polite manner which is remarked of Frenchmen is not conspicuous in him, and in Brittany seems to be confined to the "old family" society. There occur many slight things which show a want of what we should call good-breeding. Gentlemen, in walking along the street, seldom trouble themselves to turn out for ladies, whom I have often seen forced to leave the sidewalk on this account. An impoliteness quite as flagrant is the universal habit of staring ladies out of countenance -a habit which is everywhere to be observed. In the intervals between the acts at the theatres, the gentlemen stand up and boldly level a battery of opera glasses at the occupants of the fauteuils and boxes; and on the street this habit is so great as to make it exceedingly annoying for a lady to go out of doors. There is little hospitality, society being divided up into little cliques and coteries, and holding quite aloof from all strangers. The rigid pursuit of economy which appears to actuate all classes, forbids frequent social entertainment which has no practical end such, for instance as the marrying off of a daughter-in view. A new comer, if he or she wishes to form acquaintance, must make the first call, and it is then in the option of the resident to return it or not. The habits and friends of each individual have been es

tablished in youth, and the characteristic resistance to all innovation restrains them from forming new ones. It is only among the old families that one finds the still surviving notions of lordly hospitality which graced the era of the later Bourbon kings; but the stranger finds these more inaccessible than any other class of society. There is, consistently joined with this inhospitable exclusiveness, an independence of character, which is not without its to-be-admired phase, and which is found as much in the ouvrier as in the Marquis of the old régime. The ouvrier walks the streets as if he had quite as much right there as the rest; with great equanimity giving the outside of the sidewalk to gentlemen in broadcloth and ladies in silk and fur. The obsequiousness of the Parisian tradesman is quite wanting here; no anxiety is manifested to make sales. If you like the goods, take them; if not, go where you will be better suited-seem the shopkeepers, by their manners, to say.

As regards the political leanings of the Bretons, the great majority are divided between legitimism and republicanism. The empire has but few hearty supporters among them, and of Orleanists there is but a poor sprinkling here and there. The legitimists consist, as has been said, of the old family society, the remains of the Bourbon nobility, and by the very large class which aims to imitate and to gain the favor of these. Many of the substantial, wealthy merchants also, having "a stake in the country," and distrusting the stability of democratic empires and pure republics, would prefer the law-and-order rule of the legitimate line. The lower classes in the cities and towns, a large proportion of the young men of the middle and mercantile class, and many who pride themselves on a fanaticism which has resulted from repeated revolutions-readers of Jean Jacques Rousseau's Contrat Social, and Lamartine's poetical-prose rhapsodiesare fierce republicans, and readily proclaim their creed. The lower classes in the rural districts, on the contrary, if they may be classed at all politically, and if

the votes cast at the elections are any test, are generally Imperialists; some from a confused notion that their little patches of property are safer if the government de facto is sustained, others from the influence of the Imperialist officials who are scattered through the country. The idea yet lingers among the lower classes in the towns, that the best good for them lies in revolution; and those maxims of universal equality which were so loudly announced by the leaders of '48, and which were eagerly caught up and echoed throughout plebeian France, still circulate among these orders of society, and create a political creed which seems to have no deeper root. This feeling is adroitly nursed by the more knowing republicans, who see in its continuance a force which may become effectively helpful at some future time.

Protestantism, owing to the many restrictions to which it is subject, and to the fact that the population which is not Catholic, and which think at all on religious subjects, has gone to the extreme of atheism, makes little or no progress in Brittany. The frequent marriages of Protestants with Catholics serves to constantly lessen the numbers in the Reformed churches. The few Protestants resident in that part of France, however, exhibit a marked superiority over the community in which they live, in morals, in a sincere tone of religious feeling, and in intelligence. Their association with each other is free, as in America, and not restrained by the ungenial ideas which prevail with their Catholic neighbors. They are almost Puritan in their absten

tion from the amusements and pleasures of the day, and, in the midst of a population which looks on Sunday as a day for worldly enjoyment, they observe it with proper reverence. It is always the case that a small sect, existing side by side with a much larger and more popular sect, has at least the merit of sincerity. The Breton Protestants are Protestants in outward example. They are, almost without exception, well read, well informed on many topics, and possessed of that, in France, rare quality, excellent sense. The Protestant service is simple, and it is made a study to exhibit a contrast to the pomp and ceremonial of the Papal ritual. They are free from the prevalent vices of the country and age, are temperate, industrious, and unassuming in manner. It seems a pity that their influence should not be more widely felt in a community which has gone sadly astray, and in which, amid many glaring vices, but few substantial moral virtues appear.

If, in this necessarily cursory survey of Breton society, the writer may be thought to have exaggerated its "deficiencies, and afforded too unfavorable a picture, the most incredulous will be convinced by reference to any one who has had the opportunity of observing it. No fact has been overstated, no feature too darkly colored. In the race of modern progress Brittany seems to be fast dropping behind; from the tide, which is ever rolling onward, Brittany seems to have drifted aside, and to lie stagnant and without ambition, unaffected by the noisy stir going on all around her.

THE NEED AND METHODS OF So many erroneous opinions and injurious practices prevail among literary and professional men in relation to physical exercise, mental recreation, and the best methods of relief from bodily weariness, that we propose a brief essay upon the subject, embodying the results of observation and the best teachings of medical science.

REST FOR BRAIN-WORKERS.

In a former essay,* we endeavored to show that the longevity of brain-workers is, on the average, greater than that of other men; that the average life of the clergyman, the lawyer, the doctor, and the author, is considerably longer than that of the mechanic and the laboring

*See Hours at Home for Oct. 1867.

classes; and hence they are not in peculiar danger of disease and death from over-work. Still our literary and professional men are particularly subject to what are styled nervous affections, which, though they may not actually shorten life, yet often diminish their usefulness and enjoyment. It is to show how longevity may still be increased and literary life made more pleasurable and effective for good that we propose some suggestions in regard to the necessity and methods of rest.

That rest of some kind, and at greater or less intervals, is a necessity for the toiling mind or body needs no argument. It is supported by all analogy. Rest is indispensable to all animal and vegetative life. Without it, indeed, so far as we know, organic existence would be impossible. Rest is necessary for all animals, either through quiet repose or through slumber, either through idle play or in the busy search for food. Relief from bodily weariness and mental depression is often sought by means more injurious than beneficial in the long run. Thus the Hindoo resorts to the hasheesh, the Turk and the German to the pipe, the South American to the coea, and civilized men the world over to the wine-cup and the gambling-table, and the various artificial stimulants of social life. It is the temporary relief from flesh weariness and mental burdens which it affords, that has made opium the most popular drug in the world. But all observation, all medical science, demonstrates that the relief thus afforded is only artificial and temporary in its effects, and is sure to be followed by a reaction that will affect every organ and fibre of the animal system, and diminish the elasticity and the recuperative forces of nature, and thus actually shorten life.

What, then, are the best methods of gaining relief from the weariness that is specially attendant on literary and pro

fessional life?

The first and best of all methods is in the way of mental activity. Moderate toil is in its very nature adapted to afford relief from the weariness of existence.

Even the life in Paradise, if Milton is to be our authority, was not so absolutely satisfying but that the first pair could find a pleasant relief in early morning walks, in plucking the ripe fruits, and in the quiet ordering of the plants and flowers. They were to dress and keep the garden.

God makes nothing in vain; and if a mind of wondrous capacity is encased in a body that is fearfully and wonderfully made, it is designed that the activity of both should be healthful and beneficial. to the whole man. Activity, therefore, is nature's prime method of relief from weariness.

The machine which will run for years, provided it be kept bright and well oiled, can be destroyed by rust in a month, if allowed to lie idle. The man who will work on to green old age, provided he keep himself regular and in a healthy flow of spirits, may be eaten up by the melancholy of idleness before his prime.

Even Walter Scott, who had one of the healthiest of natures, used to say that he would go crazy if shut up for six months with nothing to do. No truism is more true than that the hardest work is not to work at all. To one man who can endure idleness there are a thousand who can bear even overwork of body or mind. We all know that the severest punishment of the penitentiary is to shut up a convict alone in a cell, and give him absolutely nothing to do. The weariness that soon follows such confinement pleads most piteously for any life but that; and it is especially hazardous to trust in the hands of such any instrument that can be used for self-destruction.

If the coarse criminals thus feel the weariness of idleness and long for the rest of activity, how must it be with the delicately nurtured and exquisitely organized men of letters. I have said that this consciousness of weariness and desire for rest was more keenly appreciated by the higher than by the lower orders of existence. The same law holds of the better classes of humanity, in distinction from the ignorant and imbruted. A man of fine organization, who, to the