We may say the same of the liberal arts. The Frenchman takes delight in artistic works, in fine monuments and buildings, costly statuary, magnificent pictures, engravings, and all the productions of high art; but he does nothing whatever to encourage them. France is at the present day at the head of the fine arts, and her school of painting is without a rival; and yet her artists, whether they be painters or sculptors, must seek elsewhere an outlet for their talents.

In France, the people are content with rendering a formal homage to the merit of their works of art, and leave to the government the task of encouraging and propagating them.

This encouragement consists in an annual exhibition of their paintings and sculptures, entry to this exhibition being obtained only by payment.

When it is over, the various works are returned to their authors, and medals of different value a.s.sist the public to appreciate the excellence of their productions.

In France, then, the people are, properly speaking, neither studious nor artistic: they merely profess great esteem for the arts and sciences, and render them homage without the least wish to know more of them or an attempt to further their cultivation.

A very excellent quality of the French nation is its sociability. Whilst the English and Germans shut themselves up in their houses with misanthropical concern, the Frenchman prefers to share his dwelling, to inhabit a sort of hive, in which the same roof shelters a large number of individuals of all ages and conditions. He can thus perform and exchange many services, and, while living his own form of existence, enjoy that of others. See how, in French villages, the houses are grouped together or placed back to back, or, in the large towns, those houses where fifty lodgers hardly separated from one another by a scanty part.i.tion, have one common domestic, the porter, and you will at one recognize the instinct of sociability, and external affability, which is peculiar to the French nation. The readiness which each manifests to render the little services of life, to aid a wounded person, or a.s.sist in extricating his neighbour from embarra.s.sment, are all signs of the same praiseworthy spirit of sociability.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 17.--FRENCHMAN.]

The delicacy of feeling and thought, the extraordinary taste for order and method, and the love of art, which characterize the French nation, are all to be encountered in their various industrial products. A feeling for art is essentially characteristic of French industry, and gives it that well-known good taste, distinction, and elegance, which are so justly appreciated.

Although he is neither student nor artist, the Frenchman knows therefore perfectly how to call science and art to his aid, demand their co-operation and inspiration, and transfer them with advantage into practice. Thanks to his instinct for order and method, he succeeds in drawing material profit from studious or sentimental subjects.

Having considered the bright side of the French nation, we will now see where they are deficient.

It is a recognized fact, that, among the French, one-third of the men and more than half the women can neither read nor write: this is equivalent to saying, that of the thirty-eight millions of individuals composing the population of France, fifteen millions can neither read nor write.

The French peasant does not read, and for a very good reason. On Sunday he has read to him extracts from the Almanack of Pierre Larrivay, of Matthieu Laensberg, or some other prophet of the same cloth, who foretells what is about to happen on each day of the year; and this is as much as he wants. La Bruyere drew of the French peasant in the time of Louis XIV. a forcible and sinister picture, which in many cases is true even at the present day: in the course of two centuries, the subject has altered but little.[5]

[5] "We meet with certain wild animals, male and female, scattered over the country, black, livid, and dried up by the sun, attached to the soil which they turn and rummage about with an insuperable obstinacy; they seem to utter articulate sounds, and when they get upon their legs, show a human face. And in fact, these, it seems, are men."

The French artisan reads very little. Works of popular science, which for some years past have happily been edited in France, are not read, as is imagined, by the working cla.s.ses: those who seek works of this cla.s.s are persons who have already received a certain amount of instruction, which they desire to increase by extending it to other branches of knowledge; these, for the greater part, include school-children, and persons, belonging to the different liberal professions, or engaged in commerce.

The bourgeois, who has some spare time, devotes a portion of it to reading, but he does not read books. In France, books are objects of luxury, used only by persons of refinement. The crowd, when they see a man go by with a book under his arm, regard him with respectful curiosity. Enter the houses, even those of the most wealthy, and you will meet with everything which is necessary for the comforts of life, every article of furniture which may be called for, but you will seldom or never find a library. Whilst in Germany, England, and Russia, it is thought indispensable, in France a library is almost unknown.

The French bourgeois reads only the papers. Unfortunately, French journals have always been devoted to politics. Literature and art, science and philosophy, nay, even commercial and current affairs, that is, all which go to make up the life and interests of a nation, are excluded with most jealous care from the greater part of the French journals, to make way for political subjects. Thus it is that politics, the most superfluous and barren of subjects, have become among the French the great and only object of consideration.

The press which indulges in _light_ literature is much worse. Its articles are founded on old compilations. The bons-mots of the Marquis of Bievre are borrowed from _Bievriana_, and laid at the door of M. de Tillancourt; then Mlle. X. des Varietes is made the heroine of an anecdote borrowed from the _Encyclopediana_, and the trick is complete.

The paper is sold at a sou, and is not worth a liard.

The papers are the chief means by which the French bourgeois stuff their heads with emptiness.

The weakness of instruction in France becomes still more apparent by comparison with that of other nations. Traverse all Switzerland, and in every house you will find a small library. In Prussia it is a most rare matter to find a person who cannot read; in that country instruction is obligatory. In Austria every one can read. In Norway and Denmark, the lowest of the peasantry can read and write their language with accuracy; while in the extreme north, in Iceland, that country given up to the rigours of eternal cold, which is, as it were, a dead spot in nature, prints are numerous. We need not say that the English and Americans are far in advance of the French as regards instruction. Nay, more, all the j.a.panese can read and write, as also all the inhabitants of China proper.

Let us hope that this sad condition of things will change, when, in France, gratuitous and obligatory instruction has become the law.

Uninstructed and unambitious of learning, timid artisan and plodding husbandman though he be, the Frenchman has yet one ruling virtue. He is a soldier; he possesses all the qualities necessary for war--bravery, intelligence, quickness of conception, the sentiment of discipline, and even patience when it is called for. If in 1870 a combination of deplorable fatalities forced the French to yield to the dictates of a people, who even yet wonder at their victory, the reputation of the French soldier for bravery and intelligence has in no way suffered by this unforeseen check. The day for revenge upon the barbarians of the north will come sooner or later.

Another peculiarity of the French nation is their spirit of criticism and satire. If, in the days of Beaumarchais, everything in France closed with a song, nothing at the present day is complete without a joke.

There is nothing which the French spirit of satire has not turned to ridicule. In the art of the pencil it has created _la charge_, namely, the caricature of what is beautiful, and the hideous exaggeration of every physical imperfection; on the stage it has introduced _la cascade_, a public parody bringing before the audience in an absurd manner, history, literature, and men of distinction; in the dance, it has given birth to the obscene and nameless thing which is composed of the contortions of fools, and which with strangers pa.s.ses as a national dance.

The French woman is perfectly gifted in what concerns intelligence; she possesses a ready conception, a lively imagination, and a cheerful disposition. Unfortunately, the burthen of ignorance presses sorely upon her. It is a rare thing for a woman of the people to read, as only those of the higher cla.s.ses have leisure, during their girlhood, to cultivate their minds. And yet even they must not give themselves up too much to study, nor aspire to honour or distinction. The epithet _bas bleu_ (blue stocking) would soon bring them back to the common crowd--an ignorant and frivolous feminine ma.s.s. Moliere's lines in _Les Femmes Savantes_, which for two centuries have operated so sadly in disseminating ignorance throughout one half of French society, would be with one voice applied to them.

With this ill-advised tirade, persons who think themselves perfectly right, stifle the early inclinations of young girls and women, which would induce them to open their minds to notions of literature, science, and art.

A question was once put forward whether we should permit our young women to share the education which the University affords to young men. We are speaking of the courses which were to have been held by the college of professors, according to the plans proposed by M. Duruy. But this attempt at the intellectual emanc.i.p.ation of young girls was very soon suppressed. Being barely tolerated at Paris, these courses were soon interdicted in the departmental towns, and woman soon returned to the knee of the church, or, in other words, was brought back to ignorance and superst.i.tion.

This want of instruction in the French woman is the more to be regretted, since, to an excellent intellectual disposition, she adds the irresistible gifts of grace and physical charms. There is in her face a seduction which cannot be equalled, although we can a.s.sign her physiognomy to no determinate type. Her features, frequently irregular, seem to be borrowed from different races; they do not possess that unity which springs from calm and majesty, but are in the highest degree expressive, and marvellously contrived for conveying every shade of feeling. In them we see a smile, though it be shaded by tears; a caress, though they threaten us; and an appeal when yet they command. Amid the irregularity of this physiognomy the soul displays its workings.

As a rule, the French woman is short of stature, but in every proportion of her form combines grace and delicacy. Her extremities and joints are fine and elegant, of perfect model and distinct form, without a suspicion of coa.r.s.eness. With her, moreover, art is brought wonderfully to a.s.sist nature.

There is no place in the world where the secret of dress is so well understood as in France, or where means are so admirably applied to the rectification of natural defects of form or colour. Add to this a continual desire to charm and please, an anxious care to attract and attach the hearts of others through simplicity or coquetry, good will or malice, the wish to radiate everywhere pleasure and life, the n.o.ble craving to awake grand or touching thoughts, and you will understand the universal and charming rule which woman has always held in France, and a great portion of the influence which she perforce retains over men and things.

All these qualities, which distinguish the women of the higher cla.s.ses in France, are met with also among those of the working cla.s.ses. Their industrious hands excel in needlework. They make their own clothing, and that of their children; look to the household linen, make their own bonnets, and most effectually cause elegance and taste to thrive in the heart of poverty. The correctness of their judgment, their tact and delicacy, and their rare penetration, are of valuable a.s.sistance in commercial matters, where their just appreciation affords most useful aid to their husbands and children. In retail trade especially, do these qualities shine forth--order, sagacity, and patience. Their politeness and presence of mind charm the purchaser, who always finds what he wants, and is always in good humour with himself and the articles he obtains.

The French women excel in household duties and in bringing up their children. These graceful and sweet young girls become mothers whose patience is inexhaustible, and make of their home the most perfect resting-place, and the best refuge from the sufferings and hardships of life.

_Hispanians._--Under this name we include the Spaniards and Portuguese.

The Hispanians result from the mixture of the Latins, with the Celts, whom they succeeded in Spain, and with the Teutons, who drove out the Romans.

Washed on three sides by the sea, divided from France on the north by the Pyrenees, and from Africa on the south by a narrow stretch of sea, Spain is crossed by ranges of mountains, which, by their various intersections, form valleys permitting only of difficult communication with each other. The mountains of Spain are one of the princ.i.p.al causes of the richness of this country. They contain a variety of precious metals, and the streamlets which flow from their summits fertilize the valleys and develop into large rivers.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 18.--CATTLE-DEALER OF CORDOVA.]

The climate of Spain indicates the vicinity of Africa. The air during winter, is cold, dry, and sharp: during the summer it is scorching. The leaves of the trees are stiff and shining, the branches knotty and contorted, the bark dry and rugged. The fruits mingle with their perfume a sharp and acid flavour: the animals are lean and wild.

Nature therefore in Spain is somewhat violent and rude, and this characteristic is peculiar to the people of the country.

The Spaniard, like the African, is in general of moderate height. His skin is brown, and his limbs are muscular, compact, and supple. In a moral sense, pa.s.sion with him obtains the mastery; indeed it is quite impossible for him to master or dissemble his feelings. He is not afraid to allow their workings to become evident, but, in their display, if they meet with curiosity or admiration, he pa.s.ses all bounds and becomes a perfect spectacle. A Spaniard always allows his feelings to be plainly perceptible.

This habitual weakness for scenic display which in a people possessing evil instincts would be excessively inconvenient, produces in the Spaniard the best results, since at heart he is full of generosity and n.o.bleness. It endows him with pride, from which spring exalted feelings and good actions; emulation, which prompts him to outdo himself; a moral tone, generosity, dignity, and discretion. Nowhere are better understood than in Spain the regard due to age or s.e.x, and the respect called for by rank or position.

The love of distinction, place, and grade is an inevitable consequence of this state of feeling.

The pride of the Spaniard renders him very tenacious as regards his honour. He brooks not insult, and seeks to requite it with bloodshed.

His hand flies to the sword which is to avenge his honour, or the knife which is to settle his disputes (fig. 19).

In Spain arms are carried by all, and their habitual contact--too much neglected in other countries--imparts to each the desire for glory or the hope of playing a leading part in the world.

Such being his disposition, the Spaniard cannot fail to make an excellent soldier. Besides having taste and apt.i.tude for the use of arms, he is vigorous, agile, and patient; and therefore worthy to be named honorably in comparison with the French soldier. It is, however, difficult to preserve discipline among these fiery and independent men.

They are not always easy to command in time of regular warfare, and when times become troublesome, they become rapidly converted into guerillas, a term which is almost synonymous with brigand.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 19.--NATIVES OF TOLEDO.]

The use of arms being familiar to every Spaniard, there is a great temptation to use them, and pa.s.sion frequently creates an opportunity.

Therefore it is that Spain is essentially a land of civil war.

[Ill.u.s.tration: 20.--SPANISH PEASANT.]

On the most simple question arising, the peasant seizes his gun and rushes to an ambuscade, or joins a band of insurgents.