Such innocent presumption is certainly highly excusable amongst a people who have managed to make so good a fight of it for so long a period, aided by nothing but their own personal exertions. The hillmen are in all countries more high spirited and prouder than the inhabitants of the valleys, and think themselves their superiors on many points; and perhaps on many points their assumption is tolerably correct. At any rate, Gérardmer of 1852 is not the same place it was twenty years ago, when the waggoner could hardly make his jaded team crawl along roads covered with masses of granite, and where the gay travelling carriages of the fashionable world had never as yet made their appearance. The awestruck mountaineer now no longer stands gaping with surprise at the gay costumes of the Parisian tourists, who are on their way from the baths of Plombières to explore the botanical wonders and delicious views of Longemer and Hohneck. A posting station, established in 1844, renders locomotion through these once-dreary regions most conveniently practicable to the most aristocratic exclusive; and a regular diligence carrying the mail-bag runs daily, until prevented by the snow, between Nancy, Saint-Dié, and Remiremont, delivering the letters which have left Paris within about twenty hours.

The territorial surface of this extensive commune, composed of mountains and small valleys, is of an irregular form, and not unlike the shape of a lozenge; its extreme length from east to south is about sixteen miles, and its breadth from ten to twelve. But I am here only speaking of Gérardmer; the mountainous country of the Vosges stretches much further away in the direction of Bresse and Remiremont; but that district has by no means, although exceedingly beautiful, so much of the grandiose attractions that are to be found near Gérardmer, the mountain of Hohneck, and the Chaunes contiguous to it. According to the Government survey, which was made in 1846, the forests, which are almost entirely of pine, were returned as covering 5,622 hectares, an hectare being about two acres English. Three-fourths of these forests are the property of Government, and the growth and proportions of the timber magnificent. The houses within the commune amount in number to 1,169 most of which are built of wood and only one storey high, being scattered about in all directions, some on the sides of the mountains, others in little sequestered gorges, where the sun appears never to be able to shed the influence of its rays even during the very height of summer; others are perched up on the tops of the rocks, like eagles' nests. In fact, wherever a bare place has been found, either in the depths of the gloomiest forests or on the sides of the rockiest mountain, capable of either being cultivated as a potato field, or of producing sufficient herbage to support one or a couple of cows throughout the year, some energetic purchaser has immediately been found amongst the peasants to buy the land and erect his homestead. And here he lives, struggling on from day to day and from year to year, never mixing with nor hardly speaking to his fellow-creatures, beyond his own family, excepting on the hebdomadal market-day, when the whole family descend into the village to make their little purchases, or on the Sabbath to assist at "La Masse," in attendance to which part of their devotional duties the whole population of these forest wilds, young and old of both sexes, are particularly devoted.

Almost all the houses of the peasantry are built exceedingly low,

and

covered with small pieces of wood resembling little brown tiles; and the walls are invariably white-washed throughout the whole of the country. Above the entrance-door is usually a niche, in which is placed a figure of some patron saint; and not unfrequently a few lines of poetry, or a verse from the Scriptures, is written under as a finish. If you feel inclined to accept an invitation to enter within the house, when you should by chance present yourself at the door to inquire your way, or any other trifling information, you will be received with the greatest affability; these hospitable creatures will immediately, if you will accept it, bring forth their best new milk and the loaf of dark rye-bread, and, moreover what is esteemed by them not only the greatest luxury, but one of the greatest necessaries of life-a litre of "eau-de-vie." Young and old, and even the young girls, seem to have a peculiar penchant for this most destructive fluid; in cold weather they drink it to warm themselves in these isolated and icy regions; and in the heat of summer they seem as fond of their gouttes, taking a drop after severe exercise, as they say, "pour couper la sueur.” The first room you enter into is a sort of kitchen, hung about with all the various utensils used both in and out of the house; some are for making the cheese, others are for the rest of the domestic purposes, as well as for digging and grubbing the land. Further on you enter into an inner room: this sanctuary is called the "poêle," and is the only chamber for reception, for meals, for working, or for sleeping. It is in this smoky, dirty apartment, where the ceiling is so low that your head almost touches it, that the cheese is prepared; and it is here where the family circle crowd round the nearly red-hot stove during the long winter evenings, and also where they sleep. In another small room, still further on, you will generally see one, two, or perhaps three, looms for weaving flax into linen-for nearly all of these Vosgians are weavers; but I will say no more upon that subject here, intending to reserve it for a future place in these notices. The way in which the poorer part of the inhabitants of these mountains light themselves during their work is rather curious and original, for candles and oil for a lamp are only attainable by those whose circumstances are rather better than the ordinary stamp of Vosgian peasants, and are looked upon as a great luxury. By the aid of an old plane, which usually descends as an heirloom from one generation to another, they cut out some long narrow shavings from pieces of pine wood, which, when dry, they cut into lengths; and, by fixing them, when burning, in a sort of iron vice, which is made to do duty for a candlestick, manage to obtain a sufficient light to enable them to perform whatever work they may have to do. The glare which shines forth from this torch must be truly delightful— a sort of darkness visible; aided, as it must be, by not only its own smoke, but by also that of half a dozen performers on pipes, whose eyes and olfactory organs ought to be by long practice perfectly proof against this most delicious vapour. Thus the long evenings pass away with smoking and talking parish news and politics; whilst some of the female part of the family are occupied in weaving, and the men occasionally in making household utensils, oval chip boxes, or implements of husbandry, which they sell at an exceedingly low rate on the different market days and at the fairs in the immediate neighbourhood

If the Vosges bears a great analogy, in a geological point of view, to Switzerland, the inhabitants of the two countries have an equal claim to

K

resemblance in their dispositions and characters. Each is obliged

to live under a most rigorous climate; to seek, in the cultivation of a difficult soil, the productions which are only to be obtained by the aid of great and incessant efforts and corporeal labour; and the inhabitant of Gérardmer seems especially to gain in vigour that which he may by nature be deficient in with respect to his size. The men are rather below the middle stature, but gifted with a great deal of strength and agility; they are low in flesh, and their pale countenances bear a travailworn appearance. The women, when young, are enclined to be fairer in their complexions than that sex are in many of the departments of France; and, before they are spoilt by hard labour and the various cares of womanhood, are many of them pretty. They are exceedingly thrifty, active, and quite as laborious as the men, taking their share of the labour both amongst the cattle and in the field; and I have actually seen some of them mowing during the haymaking season. In their dispositions, they seem affectionate mothers and wives, and proud of their large families, which they have suckled themselves; for in this part of France the lower classes appear to be more prolific than in the more cultivated departments. Notwithstanding the changes and modifications that time and the progress of civilization have effected by degrees in the manners and fashions of the Vosgians, they have managed to preserve a great deal of their primitive character. The peasant of Gérardmer is to this day just the same blunt, open-hearted, generous ruffian that he is represented ever to have been; whoever comes to his house, even the meanest-clad beggar in rags, is invited to sit down. And he is proverbial for his honesty and truthfulness in all his little commercial transactions, such as the sale of his home-spun linen and his white cheese. His isolated position, and the comparatively unrestrained state that these people have lived in for so many generations, have rendered the whole race proud of themselves, and jealous of the least interference; exceedingly susceptible, and rather vindictive, seldom pardoning an insult or injury for years. Under the garb of all their uncouth rustic nonchalance, their conversation and naïve answers are oftentimes most amusing, and savour of a natural ready wit, dashed with a spice of the sarcastic. They speak two languages; one bad French, and the other a kind of jargon which few can understand but their own neighbours, for each commune in the Vosges has a different dialect when speaking the patois of Old Lorraine. They are exceedingly ingenious in contriving and making all descriptions of articles in wood; and are-but so much the worse for those tourists who are fond of field sports-the most expert poachers in fishing and snaring every kind of feathered fowl or four-footed denizen of the forest. They appear to be addicted but to one vice, and that is almost excusable, considering the awfully cold regions they inhabit during winter; their love of "l'eau-de-vie predominates through every class, age, or sex. Nothing can be done without une petite goutte" upon all occasions, whether it is some commercial transaction of importance, or even the accidental meeting of two friends-whether it be on the breezy mountain, or in the long dusty street of the village of Gérardmer.

The food made use of by the hard-working and patient inhabitants of these highlands is of the most meagre description, viz., "soupe au beurre," that is, a mess composed of milk and water, with a little butter

66

and salt in it to make it rich, and some parsley chopped up to give it a flavour; a large wooden dish of boiled potatoes, and a little rye-bread, by way of luxury, occasionally; skim-milk to drink; and at dinner some of the white cheese of their own making. They never touch meat, excepting at the annual feast of their patron saint. According to information I received from that most respected individual, one of the oldest inhabitants," twenty years ago almost all the men of the working class in the commune were dressed in a suit of clothes, especially on a Sunday or a fête day, that had almost the appearance of a livery, so much were they all alike in cut and colour. The coat was a long, brown, drugget frock, with breeches reaching to the knee, where a broad red garter was displayed, which was worn for the purpose of keeping up a pair of blue worsted stockings; their great heavy shoes were ornamented by a huge pair of brass buckles; and a large broadbrimmed hat completed the costume. The women, too, were quite as remarkable for the peculiarity of dress and the neat and unpretending taste displayed in their rustic habiliments as the men. In the days I have been speaking of, "le beau sexe contented themselves with wearing a strong gown of serge, with a cloak made of "callemande," but what that was I am unable to define; with a huge well-starched cap, made with flaps falling over the ears and neck and nobody, in those days, ever thought of carrying an umbrella, let the weather be what it might. But now almost all these druggets, red garters, brass buckles, serges, and "callemandes" have disappeared. As I sat at the window of my lodgings to amuse myself with a review of hundreds of these pious mountaineers filing by on their road to "la messe" on the Sabbath day, I could discover, even amongst the old men, but very few indeed who were habited in any way conformable to the ancient fashion of "the twenty years ago" now passed away. The clothes of the men appeared to have been purchased at some cheap outfitting Jew's shopsuch, at least, as wore coats-displaying an infinite variety of taste in their make and shape; but the generality of the peasants are clad here, as they are in almost every part of France, in a blue cotton or linen blouse, and trowsers to match. The women, too, much more than the men, showed themselves by no means exempt from that weakness which in these degenerate days pervades the whole sex, whether they inhabit the loftiest, loneliest regions of some Alpine country, or are the more refined dwellers of some fashionable city. The gay cotton gown, the embroidered collar, the gaudy rubbishy ribbons, and artificial flowers, were almost as conspicuous in this motly throng as if we had been watching the stream of listless promenaders on their return from one of the minor wakes or fairs in the neighbourhood of the great metropolis itself. (To be continued.)

"A hound and a hawk no longer

Shall be symptoms of disaffection;

A cock-fight shall cease to be breach of the peace,
And an horse-race an insurrection."

SONG OF THE CAVALIERS.

"I am a friend, sir, to public amusements; for they keep people from vice."DR. JOHNSON TO SIR ADAM FERGUSON.

To look in at Tattersall's on a Monday is one of my favourite June diversions; but the sales are fearfully dull work to what they were last year. Lord Londesborough brought six yearlings all the way from Grimston, and they only averaged 33 guineas; and but for the evermarketable blood of Orlando which coursed in the veins of the 115-guinea Armida, the average would scarcely have been 20 guineas. Cuckoo, by Tadmor, was bought to go to Prussia, and was dirt cheap at 37 gs., as she was the perfect mould of a huntress, and would very probably have raced into the bargain. No one would look at Brother Tadger, as Chloris has never thrown a winner; and Muley Moloch, who is now rising 26, has been quite forgotten, in spite of Alice Hawthorne and Oulston. The old brown was located, I think, at Askham Bryan; and about a year since, a publican gave £10 for him, and got £5 for his bargain from some Lincolnshire horse-fancier. So runs stud fame away. One of the cheapest purchases I ever saw was made that day, in the shape of an Hippolytus filly, with wonderful length and fine quarters. 12 guineas was all that could be got, and she fell into the hands of a borough speculator, who refused 10 guineas for his lucky bargain. Several of this class of purchasers seem to attend Tattersall's, and do not bid against each other. After the sale they meet and "knock out," which is, being interpreted, see which of their fraternity will give the most for the bargain. It is wonderful that country gentlemen do not look more sharply after these Tattersall's odds and ends, as no farm in the present day is, to our mind, complete without a blood mare. We hear a capital account of West Australian, and already nine subscriptions are taken to him for 1856. Ten out of the forty subscriptions are kept by Lord Londesborough himself, who thinks of increasing his regiment of brood mares from twelve to fifteen next season.

The sale on the next Monday was a very much more varied affair. The three-year-old Clove, own sister to Mincemeat, was knocked down for 33 guineas. She has hardly run in public, but her legs sadly knuckled over. I think her a far finer and more lengthy mare than her sister, and she produced 385 guineas to Mr. Cookson as a yearling, at