Carey for her information upon two very important subjects;, the state of French education, and the comparative comfort. and happiness of the French and English people. Too many, of our countrymen are foolish enough to economise by giving their children cheap instruction on the Continent; and an at-. tempt is now making by Cobbett, and the worthies of his school, to persuade us that our neighbours are in the most enviable situation-and that he who wishes to escape taxes, tithes, and poverty, has nothing to do but settle down in France. The American humbug, which we recently noticed, having been completely exposed, it is intended to make some dupes nearer home. "The principal object which we had in view when we left England was to place our son at school in France, or in a private family, where he might improve himself in the language, whilst we' pursued our rambles without him. But we found greater difficul-' ties in the choice of a situation than we expected. The lycées, or public schools, which were established after the Revolution, were regulated, and the masters appointed by government; and no person was permitted to teach the learned languages without a licence. These rules are still in force. The lycées are now called royal colleges; and the expenses being small, they are filled with' boys of all ranks and descriptions. The masters in general are not celebrated for classical erudition. The total extinction, during the troubles of the Revolution, of all the learned part of the society, left a chasm, not likely to be soon filled up, considering the little encouragement given to literary attainments, in comparison with the attention bestowed on military affairs. The military schools were put on the best footing possible by Buonaparte, and conducted with the greatest skill and regularity; whilst, on the contrary, very little discipline was introduced into the institutions for learning, and accordingly, in most of them, the masters are not eminent for ability, and are possessed of no authority. The pupils learn nothing but what they choose; and no order or subordination is preserved amongst them. We frequently heard of the English boys in the college at Tours striking their preceptors with impunity, or, at most, they only incurred a trifling punishment. Besides this, the habits and manners of a promiscuous assemblage of French boys are by no means such as one would wish a child to imitate. We soon, therefore, gave up all idea of sending ours to a public school, and turned our thoughts towards a private family, where he might be domesticated. But here again objections arose, which we had not foreseen. In those families where boarders are admitted no regular plan of education is pursued. The pupil is treated as a visitor: and except at meals, and an hour or two spent in conversation, has the entire disposal of his own time; and no application to study or employment of any kind being enforced, we thought the risk of falling into habits of idleness and dissipation of time was too great to be hazarded. Having continued our inquiries, and persisted in these schemes for our son till our first visit to Tours, we there relinquished them, and determined to take him with us." P. 259. "The blossoms of the fruit-trees have been destroyed by the coldness of the spring, and the harvest by the unusual wetness of the summer, in both the two last years, and the poor have suffered much distress from the badness of the seasons. They were very peaceable in the Touraine, which is a plentiful part of the country, but in many places they became extremely violent and clamorous. "A dreadful combination of poor wretches took place in the winter, at Chateauneuf, where they went from house to house demanding bread, in a tone too peremptory to be refused. They assembled together in this manner frequently; and at last concerted a scheme to murder the farmers who employed them as labourers, and to plunder their houses. The plot was discovered by one of their confederates, and at the first house they attacked, four of them were taken into custody by the gens d'armes, who lay in wait for them. They were guillotined at Orleans, and no further disturbances occurred." P. 303. "Clermont is famous for its preserves of apricots and of apples; they are made into small clear cakes and dried. "The inhabitants of the town have nothing singular in their dress; but some of the women who come from a distance to beg in the streets wear a black cornered cap, drawn through a circle of brass, like the collar of a dog, which binds it round the head, and the corner hangs down behind. The peasantry in the neighbourhood are clad in very coarse homespun cloth, made of wool and hemp mixed, with a long cloak, like a large bag, thrown over their shoulders; their uncombed hair streams down on each side of their narrow faces to their waists altogether they present a most melancholy picture, as they assemble in crowds in the streets of Clermont, crying for food. They carry small pitchers in their hands, and broth being given them, they sit eating it in the corners of the streets in groups of fifteen or twenty together, of all ages. To see these poor wretches absolutely makes one's heart ache, and they who live in England can form no notion of the extreme distress of these mountaineers, when their scanty harvest entirely fails. Before the winter is over, every thing is consumed, and actual famine stares them in the face. The government has employed on the roads, and other public works, as many as possible, giving them sevenpence halfpenny a day, which is the usual price of Labour here, except in the harvest season: but the number of starving families, who pour down from the hills into the town, is scarcely credible, and their miserable condition beyond description. A collection is made for them amongst the towns-people, who give them broth, to save them from perishing at their doors. These emaciated creatures look with anguish at the desolated buildings, which were once convents, where, in time of need, they were sure of relief and support, and which their fathers were the first to overthrow and pillage. It has been objected to convents, that by affording succour to the poor, they encouraged idleness and mendicity. The convents are gone; their riches are dispersed; but the poor remain :- Poverty is indestructible." " P. 338. "The men who are employed in mending the roads earn from seven-pence to ten-pence a day each, without victuals; but it is customary in this part of the country to give the labourers in the fields their food. Their wages have undergone no alteration for many years five-pence a day is their regular pay, with bread, or an equivalent quantity of other victuals. But now that provisions are scarce, their allowance is scanty and its quality bad, and the peasantry look poor, and are ill clothed. What labourer in England would be content with three pounds of coarse bread as his daily provision; with nothing to drink but water, or at most, in times of the greatest plenty, a bottle of Boisson, or acid wine, weaker than our small beer? But here they are well satisfied when they can get plenty of bread, and pleased if the luxury of an onion be added. "But, from the king upon his throne to the beggar in the street, the English people command more of the necessaries and superfluities of life. Our nobles, our merchants, our shop-keepers, our mechanics, our farmers, our labourers, our servants; all live in a style of profusion, unknown to the French, The price of labour is higher in proportion to the price of provisions, and all descriptions of people are better fed, better lodged, and more expensively clothed than the corresponding classes in France. But our appetite grows by what it feeds on; we have more wants and more cravings, and are neither so easily contented, nor so inclined to be happy." P. 356. Sens lying in the direct road from Paris into Switzerland, Italy, and the South of France, the travellers who throng its streets are generally tourists seeking for pleasure in a foreign ramble, But the frequent object of the English who settle in provincial towns is economy; not that the necessaries of life are so much. cheaper in France as speedily to cover the expences of a long journey, but people are glad to disburden themselves of some of their comforts, which in England are multiplied to such an excess, that we suffer the fate of Tarpeia, and are absolutely overwhelmed by their load. 'Tis bliss but to a certain bound, Even in the "We have carried our refinements to agony. middle walks of life every thing must be in a certain style, which exceeds the point where convenience ends, and folly begins. Our very furniture is designed more for show than service; our carpets VOL. XX. NOV. 1823. are too handsome to be trod upon, our grates too highly polished to have a fire in them, our tongs and pokers are too brilliant to be used, our horses are too tenderly kept to go out in the cold and rain, our carriages too beautifully varnished to be exposed to the sun; and at last every thing grows too expensive to be obtained, and we pour in shoals to France." P. 441. The result of these important statements, the statements of an impartial and intelligent eye-witness is, that if the Bourbons neglect to provide for the education of the upper classes, there will soon be no gentlemen in France; and that if they do not repeal the democratico-despotic rule, which, at the death of a father or mother divides the property equally among all the children, there will never be any great capitalists, secure revenue, improving tenants, or well fed peasantry. A scarcity and a famine will infallibly prove cause and effect, unless more capital is accumulated in the country, than the present French system has any tendency to produce. ART. VIII. The Bridal of Armagnac, a Tragedy. By the Rev. T. Streatfield, F.A.S. pp. 178. Harding, Mavor and Lepard. 1823. We have allowed some time to escape since this Tragedy was placed upon our table. The public taste appears to have been so much occupied of late by dramatic productions of every description, and we have ourselves had occasion, so fully to notice several works of the kind, that we shall feel excused from making more observations upon the performance of Mr. Streatfield, than will be sufficient to make our readers acquainted with his work. Although we shall not be expected to rank the Bridal of Armagnac amongst the higher orders of our Drama, yet it contains several pleasing scenes, and frequent passages which bear testimony to the poetical powers of the author, with an easy flow of language, which is its pervading character, and is well sustained. We confess, had the Abbot been a more gentéel villain; nay, had he been somewhat more conformed to the hateful model of the smooth villany of the German school, he would have better assimilated himself to our preconceived ideas. It was with no slight regret we found that the worthless Count himself was not consigned to some severe fate. The character of Blanche is well delineated, and without doubt, it is in her mild retiring suffering feelings, that Mr. Streatfield has best succeeded. The Dauphin is a model of more manly energy, and requires a greater effort to support his generous feelings unimpaired to the end; and, consequently, we must observe, that the precept of Horace, the "Qualis ab incepto" has been slightly violated in this case. Before we proceed to give our readers any specimens of the Tragedy itself, we must say a few words upon the Preface. It contains a vein of humour which inclines us to fancy that in another, and a very different style from tragedy, Mr. Streatfield would not have failed of success. We are no friends to the electric friction of cats, and will accordingly leave that point to the peculiar taste of every individual reader. But for the necessity of an apology for a clergyman producing a work like the present, we confess we were not prepared. We know no restriction which should hinder that profession, occupied as they are with more important duties, from employing those leisure moments, which every scholar, every gentleman, well knows how to appreciate, in the exercise and employment of their minds in such pursuits as these. In many instances, they bring us back to those happy hours of youth and idleness, when few pens do not engage in some poetic efforts; and surely when employed in the composition of such a work as the present, they can in no way throw the slightest stain or imputation on the clerical character. Mr. Streatfield is rather too fond of indulging in obsolete phrases, which, although we may privately feel some slight bias in their favour when used in a tragic Poem, yet have given a stiffness to certain passages in his work, which does not well accord with its prevailing freedom of style. But these are occasional and slight blemishes. We proceed to lay before our readers a short specimen of the work itself. -Could not the ministers Bringupthe muskeeters of Armagnac And bind the cold allegiance of this Count, 'Tis well! there is some hope her heart has marbled. She has been turning into alabaster E'er since the council took this match in hand. It made me angry, and it pained thee too, |