ral population
organised, farm-buildings erected, roads macadamised, the barren lande
drained and reclaimed, and the chateau surrounded by a well-wooded park.

Great attention has been paid to the details of the dairy farm; all the
disposable milk is made into Dutch cheese. The cows are those of Brittany
and Ayrshire; the pigs from England. The whole demesne comprises about
1300 acres, and the benevolent Princess resides entirely on the scene of
her labours, among the people whose condition she has so ameliorated.(18)

From Vannes we made an excursion into the peninsula of Rhuys, on the south
of the Morbihan Sea. We first stopped at Sarzeau, where Lesage, the
amiable author of 'Gil Blas,' was born, of whom it was written on his
epitaph:--

"S'il ne fut pas ami de la fortune,
Il fut toujours ami de la vertu."

Then on to the ducal fortress of Sucinio, situated on the borders of the
ocean. It is a magnificent ruin, built in 1250, by Duke Jean le Roux, to
deposit his treasures, in case an invasion of the French should compel him
to leave his duchy. The position is well chosen, its situation on the
seashore enabling him easily to embark his treasures.

This formidable "coffre fort" was a favourite residence of the Dukes of
Brittany, who came here as a relief from the cares and ceremonies of a
Court. Its name, of which Sucinio is a corruption, Soucy-ny-ot, synonymous
with the Sans-Souci of the great Frederick, shows its intention. This
locality was long celebrated for its fine air, and its peaceful character.
Louis XIV. used to say to his courtiers--

"Desirez vous un pays de repos et de delices?
Allez habiter l'ile de Rhuys."

Partly demolished, Sucinio presents a mass of now only picturesque ruins,
a curious type of the architecture of the thirteenth century. Five of the
eight enormous battlemented towers remain, and the flamboyant window of
the chapel on the upper floor of the building is still preserved. Traces
of the portcullis and drawbridge are visible. Over the gallery is an
escutcheon, with a couchant lion holding the arms of Brittany, between two
stags, also couchant, at the foot of a tree. The sea that bathed the walls
of the castle has been driven back by the accumulation of mud and the
crumbling of the walls.

Here was born Arthur III., Comte de Richemont, Constable of France, and
afterwards Duke of Brittany. This illustrious man, equally great as a
warrior and politician, does n