small courtesy, and says, "Good-day, madame." Although it is so late in the week, we still see women washing clothes in the little river. They have boards set up to wash on. At this season of the year all the women around Boissières come to this river to wash their clothes,-those women who take in washing,--and in a dry time the women of St. Jean, who have only a little stream, come too, and those of St. Alban. When the weather is cold they wash their clothes in the house, and rinse them in the river. There was a curé who gave two thousand francs, I hear, to build a wash-house in our commune; and I see one near the stream, built of stone, but only partly enclosed, and with no utensils within.

Approaching the village, I look up at the hillside, planted with vines, and I think I can count six rows of stone wall that run across it to keep the soil from running down into the valley of the Boissières.

Madame Chevalier treats me first to mutton-chops in mashed potatoes; second, sweet-breads in tomatoes; third, string-beans; fourth, chicken; and for dessert we have a cake called mattefin de cérises,—a thick cake, made of flour, egg, and cherries, and baked at the baker's,-also soft cheese with cream, different kinds of fancy cakes and bonbons, and cherries, strawberries, and gooseberries. She has also two kinds of wine, water from the mineral spring which I visited, and coffee.

In the afternoon Madame Chevalier takes me to ride; her man drives, and her little son accompanies us. The country here is beautifully diversified, and the roads are fine. I am pleased to hear the servant call the little son "my friend." Speaking of the men who were drinking on Monday instead of mending the roads, Madame Chevalier says that the saying is, they are making or keeping Holy

Monday. We sometimes speak of persons who will never set the river on fire: they have several expressions of the same kind; one is, "He has not stolen the Holy Ghost." Madame Chevalier tells me of the rides that she has had with her husband (who is now at the Exposition). We speak of chestnuts, and she remarks the small size of ours, for she has visited Philadelphia. She is sorry when chestnut-time comes, for then the fine days are drawing to a close.

Towards evening, as I am returning from the village to Mrs. Lesmontagnes's, Mrs. Chevalier's daughter and niece accompany me for a short distance. Cows are passing along the road, and I observe a young girl with a basket and shovel collecting the droppings. One of my young companions thinks that they are to be put to the vines.

CHAPTER XX.

It is a bap

Friday, July 5th.-Twice I visit the village church. Pierre tells me that it is much more ancient than that of St. Alban. He says that it is the oldest and worst in the canton; he thinks it is six hundred years old. I observe its stone buttresses, and a great stone vessel before the door, large enough to receive a child of some size. tistery, and once stood within the church. given for removing it is that it took up too Such simple stone vessels may be of great age. The stone pavement of the church is bad enough, but I incline to the opinion that Pierre over-estimates the age of the building. He tells me that there is a Greek inscription above one of

The reason

much room.

the doors, and I find it within, but it is Latin. A portion of it reads thus: "The illustrious and reverend doctor of divinity John Dionysius de Vienne consecrated this church and the greater altar on the 24th of September, 1776.”

I have said to Pierre that I supposed that the law excluding the public was to prevent ecclesiastics from coming and haranguing the children; but he tells me that the curé and the mayor are the only persons in the commune who have permission to visit the public schools. Also the Brothers in all France can visit the schools conducted by the Brothers, but not those under lay teachers.

When we were at the village of St. Alban, where we could not visit the school, I said to Pierre, “There is illiberality here." "Yes," he replied. "What are the politics?" I asked. "Republican,--the strongest republican commune in our canton." On another occasion he says, "The republican cantons are the most illiberal. You saw that the Brothers admitted you. The Brothers are never republican, nor the priests. I do not know one who is, and I do not believe there ever will be one." "But why are they not republicans? Do not you hear them speak upon the subject?" "They come here to visit us; we talk about the schools, the harvests, and so on, but never upon politics, because they know that I am a republican; and rarely on religion, because I do not always frequent church." I tell him about a person I met in Paris, a free-thinker,— and how some of her acquaintances thought that she had told me a falsehood. He thinks it very probable that she had, and says that free-thinkers are great liars. I recur to a former subject, and tell Pierre that I want him to ask a Jew what are the first two commandments. He says that he knows one at Romilies, and that he will ask him. "You have told me," he says, "that we ought not to make

a statue or effigy of the Eternal Father, and why so? I myself find nothing more stupid than to say that one should not make an image of anything whatever. You take photographs. You are superstitious." I try to explain to him that the priests of the Jews had much trouble with them because they would worship images. "But," he says, "those were images of animals; it was not prohibited to make an image of the Almighty, when man was made in his image, in order to have an image of the Supreme Being constantly before his eyes."*

Afterwards, when we are talking upon the front porch, Pierre himself introduces the subject. "There," he says, "is the Eternal Father; see how he extinguishes the fire; he only can do it." I look where he points towards the great gateway coming into the court-yard, but I see no wooden image, nor any other. I find that he alludes to the little bright new sign of their insurance company, La Paternelle, which bears the picture of a man hovering over a globe. He tells me that this is one of the oldest insurance societies in France. I tell him that there have been persons with us who did not want to have their own pictures taken on account of its savoring of idolatry. "They were not well baked," he says. He quotes an expression which he says is from the gospel: "Whoso has the image of God constantly before his eyes cannot sin." We dine alone as

* The following passage will be found in the version of the Hebrew Scriptures (Philadelphia, 1859) by Rev. Isaac Leeser, of the Hebrew faith. It is from Deuteronomy, chap. v. :

"Thou shalt have no other gods before me.

"Thou shalt not make unto thyself any graven image, any likeness of any thing that is in the heavens above, or that is on the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth;

"Thou shalt not bow thyself down unto them, nor serve them."

usual, and at dinner I say to him, "Now I see why the Catholics are so much opposed to the Protestant version; I never understood it before." He answers, "It is because they don't like lies, or new things,-invented things, if you like that better." "Then you do not think that the Catholic Church is opposed to republicanism, if the clergy are?" No; Jesus Christ was a republican; he said, 'Love each other; he did not say, 'Make war upon each other.””

Speaking of the clergy, he says that some are partisans of Henry V. (of the old Bourbon line), some are Orleanists, and some Bonapartists. I ask him what the workingmen are. He answers that some are republicans, some Bonapartists, and some Orleanists; but that they hate Henry V. as the devil hates holy water.

One of their neighbors, a man with whom they are very intimate, comes to see them in the afternoon, and the subject of divorce is up. He says that divorce exists in France for defects of nature. We speak of the law of divorce in my country, divorce for infidelity, and one or two of them say that if this were ground for divorce here there would be thousands divorced, and some of them ten times. And Pierre adds, smiling, "We have more liberty than you."

Madame Lesmontagnes has told me that there were lately a man and woman upon the road near their village with two children. They had an ass, and a poor wagon or cart, and the woman had just given birth to another child. The first who found them went to inform the mayor, who said that they must be put into a tavern, and that the bureau de bienfaisance, or office of charity, would pay the expense. The curé baptized the child, a man who was drinking at the restaurant was godfather, and there was a mason who