into account, still we cannot help wondering that so few British farmers have settled in the north of France. The single circumstance in which the French farmer, as a practitioner, has the advantage over the British one is in the frugal style in which he lives, not only himself and his family, but his servants and cattle: this is also the reason why his agricultural operations are so imperfectly performed; two of his horses, fed with good oats, would draw a deeper furrow than the three he uses, as now fed.

When France and England shall have become better known to each other, and when the facilities of travelling, and the more general diffusion of all kinds of knowledge, shall have diminished the force of early prejudices and local attachments, then, it is probable, great numbers of rent-paying farmers, of landed proprietors, and of retiring tradesmen and manufacturers, will settle in this part of the Continent; not only on account of the greater profits which capital at present produces there from its scarcity, which is but a temporary reason that perfect freedom of commerce will effectually do away, but from the very superior soil and climate of France for corn culture; because, a possessor of land in France can produce, in his own fields and garden, more of the things which constitute the comforts and enjoyments of life than he can in Britain; and because the inhabitants are naturally more amiable and more disposed for social enjoyment. Great part of England, and the whole of Ireland, are better calculated for, and, if commerce were free, would be more profitably employed in, the production of grass and potatoes than of corn. The beef and pork of the British isles will, on this account, it is probable, always maintain their superiority; and the time may come when very little corn will be grown there, and a great deal of animal food exported to other countries. As the world improves, the idea of rendering any one country independent of every other will probably cease to occupy the minds of political economists; the agricultural and manufacturing industry of every country will be almost entirely directed to the production of that which it naturally produces best, and the rest left to free commerce.

The only part of the culture by the road-side, which struck us in passing along as decidedly good, was that of timber trees. These were planted in rows, with a degree of regularity and exactness unknown in plantations in England, and each tree pruned and trained to one straight stem or trunk, with very few branches, except towards the head, and none any where of large size; the branches are all cut off when quite young, and, as the wound heals over quickly, the trunks and

timber are perfectly smooth and sound. Every body knows that this road is bordered by apple trees, chiefly of the russet kind; many of these were now heavily laden with fruit.

Tôtes. We stopped an hour at this village to refresh the horses, which we had hired to Rouen. It happened to be the market-day; and, whether we take the houses of clay, red brick, and white limestone, the people, or the articles exposed for sale, the difference, as compared with a village about the same distance from the shore any where in England, was most striking. Though there were some good cottons and cloths, yet the greater part of the manufactures, especially of the earthenware, was of a coarser kind than is to be met with in Britain. The cheese was in soft rolls of half a pound each, and by no means inviting. The samples of wheat and oats were very inferior, and so mixed with the seeds of weeds, that they would not have sold as bread-corn in any part we know of either England or Scotland. Forty or fifty sacks, which were pitched in the market-place, had been brought there on horses' backs, by nearly as many farmers; the horses were turned loose in an adjoining grove, with their high clumsy saddles and bridles, of untanned leather. As characteristic of the great attention paid to economy in minutiæ by the French of all ranks, and also of the kind feeling which subsists among them, we may state that there were several female beggars in the market-house, pursuing their avocation among the buyers and sellers; and a little child was sweeping up, and collecting in a cup, the few grains which fell from those who had taken samples in their hands.

The church, a low diminutive structure, is built of flints, with a wooden spire painted red. It has a small churchyard, with only two tombstones in it; one commemorating some former curé, and the other the lord of the manor, as he would be called in England, who was lately deceased.

The mansion of this lord stands hard by, and is now occupied by M. la Comtesse de Malartie, his widow. It is a stately modern building of red brick, faced with grey limestone. A fellow-traveller said it put him in mind of the mansion of Mr. Bankes in Dorsetshire. The ground between it and the village was in a sad state of disorder, such as we scarcely recollect to have seen round any mansion out of Russia. The grounds on the other side contained some woods, walks, and alleys, in the ancient style, and a field with a walk serpentining along two sides of it, and some shrubs carelessly stuck in the grass. The former, the gardener told us, was called the bosquet (wood), the latter the partie Anglaise. There is a kitchengarden of two or three acres, surrounded by a high, substan

tial, ancient brick wall. Against the wall stood the cankered stumps of three pear trees, an old fig tree not nailed, a vine, a peach and two apricots ruined by age moss and gum, and, what we were rather surprised at, a young apple tree. There were also some young forest trees, self-sown willows, and birch trees, growing out of the coping of the wall. The walks were without edgings, and not gravelled. A few fruit trees, chiefly pears, en quenouille, without fruit, and with the bark covered with moss, stood in the quarters; and in the borders were some currants with stems 3 and 4 ft. high, and matted, which, the gardener said, preserved the fruit till Christmas; one or two gooseberries on tall stems, and a few raspberries and wood strawberries. The compartments were cropped with artichokes, field cabbage, celery scarcely if at all earthed up, kidneybeans, spinage lately sown for winter and spring use, red beet, leeks, sorrel in a considerable quantity, and scorzonera. In the borders were Coreópsis tinctoria, double perennial sunflowers, mallows, and a few other things. What is remarkable, there was a small pine-pit, the plants shaded with straw mats; and a small green-house with Cactus speciosíssima, Crássula oblìqua, and other succulents, Ficus índica, Cápsicum Amòmum Plínii, Brugmansia arbòrea, Aloysia citriodòra, one or two pomegranates, orange trees, and myrtles. The walks had lately been hoed and raked, and the gardener told us that the broad walks and carriage-roads, in both fronts of the house, were cleaned by harrows drawn by horses or oxen, and afterwards raked smooth by men. An immense quantity of linen was drying on lines in front of the house; and a very decent, good-looking, elderly woman told us that the family linen was washed only twice a year, and that this was one of the times.

(To be continued.)

ART. II. On Parochial Museums and Public Gardens, and on Dancing and Music, as Means of educating the Feelings of the Laborious Classes. By VARIegata.

Sir,

IN perusing the interesting communication from Mr. Spence, which appeared in the last Number of the Gardener's Magazine, it appears to me that, with all the good sense and benevolence which it breathes, he has omitted two things, which would, I am apt to believe, tend more to the improvement, as well as gratification, of the lower orders of society than any thing that

he has proposed. I allude to the formation of museums and public gardens. That every town, not to say city, in the kingdom should have its museum of curiosities, needs, I am convinced, little more than the cordial concurrence of the clergy, many of whom are men of the highest scientific research, as well as the most active benevolence. Under this view of the subject, I would propose that they should not only assist in the forming of museums in their separate districts, but I would also ask them to give, once or twice every week, a gratuitous lecture upon their contents. I would have these museums open to every one, without exception, and the popular as well as scientific name written in a fair hand over each object, as also some brief description intelligible to all. This, I am convinced, would not only excite a general spirit of enquiry upon subjects highly worthy of our attention, but also, when considered in reference to natural history, be highly calculated to render people both kind and benevolent in their dispositions: for what man will ever behave with cruelty or neglect to any of his mute dependants, when he is thoroughly informed as to the wonderful conformation of even the least animal, or as to how many striking resemblances there are between himself and the higher ones? When, also, his reflections are thus awakened, will he ever consent to abridge the happiness of creatures for the most part so useful to him, and who, unlike himself, can look to no hereafter in consolation for the miseries they may suffer here?

With reference to the formation of public gardens, you, Sir, are more au fait than I am, as to the way in which such a work should be commenced; all I contend for is their utility, in giving a taste for innocent and healthful pleasures, and, above all, in giving a taste for botany, the effect of which pursuit, if one may judge from the manners of gardeners, is more conducive to politeness and urbanity than either dancing or music, or even the study of the belles lettres, properly so called. Were I the clergyman of a parish, I would solicit even my poorest parishioner to contribute to the formation of such a garden. If he could not afford to give money, I would exhort him to give a plant or a seed, or a few hours' labour at stated periods from his over-hours; for which his name should be recorded in a book kept to preserve the names of the benefactors to the garden, and which should be read over every year on some great day, in the church after the service. The state of society produced by such improvements as those I have described would be such as, I am disposed to think, would supersede the necessity of itinerant teachers; indeed, I should îmagine that, in such a state of things, no man would consent

to be an itinerant, as he could in all parts of his country find an agreeable home.

I certainly agree with Mr. Spence, that music, dancing, and the drama, have great weight in the scale of humanisation and moral education, but I differ from him as to the manner of their application. That the common people of England dance little at present, is not because they want tuition in that art or encouragement to practise it, or that they are simply poor *, but is, I am persuaded, rather to be attributed to the depression incident to their present degraded condition. They have, I think, neither a dislike to dancing nor inability to practise it. For though country-dancing has given way to foreign elegancies of perhaps a higher order, in the shape of quadrilles, waltzes, &c., when I recollect the skill, as well as grace, which I have formerly seen displayed by the commonest people in these national dances, I cannot help thinking that neither encouragement nor tuition is necessary, in the common walks of life, for an art of which nature and content are the most efficient teachers we can have.

With respect to music, I cannot help thinking that the true remedy for the little felicity displayed by the common people of England in this charming art, would be found in an improvement of our national church music, and in the manner in which it is performed. For this purpose the clerk of every church should be a real singing-master, and a regularly bred musician, so as to be able to set the music in parts, according to the voices with which he has to do; and the children, or men and women who are to compose his choir, should be regularly taught by him, more especially those who might show any marked or particular talent. To the present drawling and bawling style pursued in even the greatest of our metropolitan churches, may, I am convinced, be attributed the style of the street singers, the itinerant musicians of our country; and even the bad taste displayed at these little singing clubs which are held in the parlours of public-houses, and which are often so annoying to us in the back rooms of our houses in the metropolis, is, I feel convinced, referable to the same cause.

am, like Mr. Spence, a very great friend to the drama, but think that, for such an audience as he supposes, the representations should be for the most part composed of pastoral opera and caustic farce: the one ennobling, by the charms of poetry and song, a species of primitive and simple life, which, in some degree, must at all times be the lot of a great part of mankind; and the other, by ridicule, aimed, as one may say,

The Irish are very poor, and yet dancing is a favourite amusement amongst them.