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of agriculture. It is asserted, that a state is much the more powerful, as it includes a greater number of proprietors, that is, a greater division of property; but I do not admit the truth of the assertion. It is true that the physical force of a state is in proportion to its population ; population is in proportion to plenty; plenty in proportion to tillage; and tillage to personal interest, that is, to the spirit of property. But with what spirit can a tenant-I may add, proprietor-cultivate and improve by draining or chalking his farm, the possession of which he might lose in six months, should his landlord die? Mr. James Cob bett, in his ride through France, thus speaks of this scattering law as he calls it : “ The contrast between Normandy and the rest of France-not only as regards the appearance of the people, but as regards that of their houses, the face of their country, the cultivation of their farms, and all that, in short, which strikes the eye of a traveller as he goes along the road—is so very remarkable, that one cannot help inquiring the reason why it should be so. By some persons (and these apparently not the least intelligent) this striking difference is mainly ascribed to the wide difference between the ancient laws and usages of Normandy, and those of the rest of France, and especially as relating to the laws affecting the disposal and distribution of real property. Before the revolution, the law of primogeniture and entail appears to have existed in a very extensive degree in Normandy, while it did not so exist in the other provinces of the kingdom, except with regard to a comparatively small part of the community. .. . All is now laid level. The law does, in fact, make a man's will for him; and it divides and subdivides his property, till, in some cases, a farm of a hundred acres is, at the death of the owner, cut up into allotments of six or seven acres ! It has been said, that the law of primogeniture has but one child, and that it devotes all the rest to beggary. On the other hand, it is said, that even if that be admitted, the law of primogeniture has an advantage over the law of scattering, as it may be called; for that the law of primogeniture had one child, while the other had no child at all; that the law of primogeniture devotes (allowing it to do this) to beggary all but one, while the law of scattering saves not one, but disperses the whole, and makes them all beggars. For if a man possess an estate, each child is brought up as the child of the owner of the estate ; but what is each but a beggar (compared with his father), when each possesses a dozen or two acres of land ?"

All the foregoing observations were corroborated to me by a French gentleman in the neighbourhood of Dunkirk, whom I visited for the • purpose of seeing his system of agriculture, which I was given to understand, was upon improved principles, the result of his having spent a fortnight at Holkham. “The abolition of the law of primogeniture,” said he, " has dispersed thousands of families who had been on the same spot for centuries ; has greatly injured the cultivation of land, and caused a scarcity of timber; and I can show you men labouring on the Quay in Dunkirk, for their daily bread, whose grandfathers were possessed of very pretty properties."

LOYALTY. Loyalty, that is, attachment to the person of their princes, has ever been a striking part of the French national character; and, notwithstanding what has passed within the last half-dozen years, will ever continue to be such. It was conspicuous during the reign of one of the most worthless of their monarchs, as it was also in our own country, in the conduct of the people towards the perfidious, and therefore justly unpopular, James II. They forgot his misconduct when contemplating his misfortunes ; but it is doubtful whether they might have done this had he not been a king.

The politics of this country do not concern me, therefore I enter not into them ; but I have reason to believe, that a more amiable and united family than the present royal family of France, is not to be found in all social life. The king I have never seen : not having been at my own court, I could not present myself at his; but I have seen a good deal of the heir apparent, and have received, at his hands, much real kindness and attention. I am enabled then to say, that as far as I am capable of estimating the character of his Royal Highness the Duke of Orleans, he appears to be admirably calculated to be at the head of a gallant and highly chivalrous people. And what a gallant fellow-pardon the expression, a mere lapsus penna, when speaking of a prince—is the next in succession, the brave Duke de Nemours ! I heard all about him and his exploits in the Constantine affair, from the gallant Prince of Moskowa, who formed part of his staff. A more gallant soldier never drew a sword; and in private life, he presents a highly-finished portrait of the prince and the gentleman.


The mention of Chantilly races reminds me that, as yet, I have said nothing of France in reference to its sporting character, in the formation of which it is making rapid strides. Independently of the love of hunting, which is greatly on the increase, there are now twenty-two places in France at which race meetings take place, and the racing calendar gives the names of upwards of two hundred proprietors of race-horses. And, although as yet there are no regular betting men, as with us, coming under the denomination of “ Legs,” heavy sums are laid out amongst the amateurs. At the first Chantilly meeting which I attended, for example, as much as 12,000l. was staked on one race; and at that of last year, so much money was betted on what is called the French Derby (the Jockey Club stakes), and two or three other races, that I was requested by the stewards to make a point of attending the meeting, it being their wish that some perfectly disinterested person should officiate as judge of the races. It was an excellent meeting as regarded sport, although the gaiety of it was eclipsed by an émeute which broke out in Paris a few days previously. There are at this time foxhounds established at Boulogne, and St. Omer, as well as in other parts of France, but from the nature of the country, I am by no means sanguine as to the success of fox-hunting in France. Staghunting, as practised in England, should be the object of Frenchmen, as far as hounds are concerned.

(To be continued.)



Part IX.

“Ullo! Mr. Rakestraw," said my youngest boy about two o'clock one morning, to the corpulent and civil landlord of the Shirt and Shotbag,“ his father ere?" for he has the Oxford trick of exasperating his vowels and depriving his aspirates of their natural rights.

“Yes, Master Nic, he be."

“ Where be 'e, then?” inquired Nicomedes, which name the parson gave him by mistake for Nicodemus.

“Up stairs in the lodge-room--the Apollo-No. 2, first door to the left," replied the landlord ; “ but you must not go in—you arn't an Odd Fellow."

“A Hodd Feller," cried Nic, scratching his head and looking bewildered, “what's that? hallays thought father ha rummy hold cove, but hi never know'd has 'e was a hodd feller."

Mr. Rakestraw scratched his head and looked quite as bewildered as little Nic, for though he had kept a lodge for some years, he had never been called upon to explain the nature of oddfellowship before. The sculptus digitorum elicited this very satisfactory elucidation.

"Why you see, Nic, the Odd Fellows is a set of werry nice men, as comes here once a month and drinks and smokes, and spends their money like gen'lemen. They knows one another a thousand miles off, and if one on 'em gits in a scrape the tothers gits him out on't. And they has officers and sich like, and banners and collars and all manner, and never tells their wives nuffin as they does—that's an odd fellow, Nic.”

“Well! hi never !-no never!" replied Nic. “And so father's one of them here sort, is 'e? Blowed hif hi don't go and tell mother.”

Yes he is, you young tell-tale-he's • Most Noble Grand' this werry evening, and is on the throne this werry moment, lectering on the science, and if you go to split to your mother, he'll split your head, and richly you desarves it, you young wusbird.”

“Well, then," said Nic,“ hi vunt-hif" “If what ?

Why, hif you'll stand a glass of peppermint and gin." The landlord, willing to ensure the secrecy so valuable to the interests of the craft, gave him a glass of his favourite cordial, and chalked it up to me.

“Now," said Nic,“ licking his lips and draining the very last drop from the glass, “just you step hup to the hold boy and tell him as ow Mr. Downe and Mr. Tripes as tumbled hout hof the cart, hand his very nigh dead-hat least hunsensible, and as sent for im to come to 'em directly.”

“Bless my soul!" cried Rakestraw, alarmned. “ Why didn't you say so afore ?"

Continued from No. ccxxviii., page 525. Jan.-VOL. LVIII. NO. CCxsix.


“Why, ow could hi, hi should like to know, when you was a cramming me with hodd fellers and peppermint ?"

The landlord lost this very proper reply, for he had run up stairs as fast as his rotundity would allow him, and entered the lodge pale with his unwonted exertions, and the seriousness of the news he had to convey. “Most-Noble-Priggins."

A fine-a fine," from the brethren. “ Most-Noble-Grand ! beg pardon-but-boy-Nic—at the door -two-masters-killed from a-tandem—dead and sent-for you," panted forth the landlord.

sprung from my throne, divested myself of the insignia of my office, and was preparing to obey the dead men's orders, when Dusterly, who is our secretary and foreign correspondent, held me back, saying,

“ Wait ha hinstant--I want to put ha himportant hinquiry. Brother Rakestraw, ow's the osses ? hare they urt?"

“ Don't know-I'm—sure.'
“Then what a hass you hare,” replied brother Dusterly.

I burst from him and ran down to college as fast as I could, and found my boy Jem making two stiff glasses of brandy-and-water for the dead men, who were scolding him for being so long about it, and sponging their faces, which were covered with blood and dirt, with a couple of clean fine-holland shirts, which they had taken from the drawers of Mr. Solomon Stingo, into whose rooms they had bolted in preference. to their own, as they were covered with mud, and Solomon was particular about his furniture, and did not like his liquors to be consumed.

I turned Jem out of the room, finished compounding the grog, and inquired the cause of their accident.

“ Just as I put the question, Mr. Wydeawake entered the room with Mr. Stingo, who looked three-parts drunk, and the other part disgusted at the coolness of his friends' drinking his hot brandy-and-water, and converting his under garments—which cost twenty-four shillings each, as he informed them-into towels.

Well,” said he, “this is cool, however !" “ Is it, old fellow ?" replied Mr. Tripes, sipping his grog and blowing it. “ I'm convinced it's hot-scalding hot! Peter, put a little cold water to it and another dash of brandy; I hate nibbling at a glass, I want a swig,” which is pure Carthusian for a draught.

“ Peter!" said Mr. Wydeawake," in the closet in Mr. Stingo's bedroom, you'll find some excellent whiskey; bring a bottle of it and a lemon, and make a jug of toddy.

.“ I say though,” interrupted Mr. Solomon, "you might just as well have been civil enough to ask my leave.”

“Oh, bother about that, Stingy—I beg pardon-Stingo, I mean," replied Mr. Tripes, “out with the liquid, Peter, unkennel the bottle, and we'll begin the evening.”

I obeyed of course, and when the toddy was made, Mr. Solomon thought he might as well have bis share of his own whiskey, but Mr. Tripes stood sentry over it with the hearth-broom, and swore he should not have a taste, unless he drank off one bottle of his worthy father's best brown stout to clear his palate first.

Solomon, it will be recollected, hated the very mention of malt liquor in conjunction with the name of his respectable and justly-noted governor. He looked as if he would have killed his enemy if he dared ; but, knowing Mr. Tripes's determined character, he quietly absorbed his bottle of stout, and was then allowed to sit down to the toddy, or rather the toddy jug, for the trio had already emptied it.

“ Peter,” said Mr. Richard Downe, “ Peter, Mr. Solomon has no toddy."

" Make him some directly, sir,” cried Tripes.

“I say though,” again interrupted Mr. Stingo, “ you might as well -"

“ Peter!” cried out Mr. Wydeawake," you may as well make three bottles at once, here's lots of hot water."

“ I say though —”

“And Peter,” exclaimed Mr. Tripes, flourishing his hearth-broom significantly, “ let us have a dash of curaçoa in it-you'll find a bottle under the bed.”

I say though I won't stand that," said Mr. Stingo.

“ You shan't, my dear fellow," replied Tripes, and down he knocked him by a well-directed blow of the hearth-brush.

“Now, Solomon,” cried Mr. Wydeawake, “ show yourself a man !"

He seemed inclined to do so, as he actually doubled his fist-but unclosed it again when he saw Mr. Tripes, who was just in his glory, preparing to clear for action by taking off his coat, and contented himself by articulating fiercely,

“ You shall hear from me to-morrow morning.”

“ All right, old fellow," said his opponent, putting on his coat again. “ Peter! cigars ! they are stowed away in his hatbox upon the bedtop.”

Solomon made no remark, but looked unutterables, and helped himself to a large tumbler of toddy, which he would have enjoyed very much had not his hand been so unsteady from previous drinking, or from Mr. Tripes jogging his elbow, that he poured the contents outside instead of inside his neckcloth, and scalded himself unmercifully.

“Never mind, old fellow, better luck next time. hand,” said Mr. Downe, filling his glass and administering the whole at one gulp as successfully as if he had been drenching a horse.

Solomon sat perfectly still for five minutes, watching them lighting his cigars. Then his eyes began to look glazy, and the colour left his face. This paleness was succeeded by a hiccuppy sort of convulsion of his whole frame, and a short bobbing backwards and forwards of his upper person, and a frequent shuffling change of the position of his feet.

Look out for squalls,” cried Mr. Tripes.
“ Peter, put that beast to bed,” said Mr. Wydeawake.

“ Take all the cold water away,” continued Mr. Downe," and empty a bottle of his governor's porter into his ewer.”

The former order 1 in mercy obeyed, but not the latter ; and though Mr. Solomon resisted, I succeeded in undressing him, and having put all things in the order requisite upon such occasions, locked him in and put the key in my pocket; as I knew that if access could

I'll hold your

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