portion of cattle is very small, the
land is necessarily still farther impoverished from want of manure. The
rents are about 18 livres, or 15_s._ English; the price in purchase from
15_l._ to 18_l._ English. The size of the farms is generally about 80
acres English; they are usually held from year to year, but there are
some leases. Having got rid of tithes, and the taxes being very
moderate," said Mr. Younge, "the price of land in France, both as to
rent or purchase, is certainly very moderate; and if we could but import
English or American workmen, or bring the French labourers to English or
American habits, no good farmer would hesitate a moment as to settlement
in France. But the French labourers are obstinate in proportion to their
ignorance, and without exception are the most ignorant workmen in the
world. Nothing is to be done with them; and though the Emperor has
issued a decree, by which foreigners settling with a view to agriculture
or manufactures, and giving security that they will not leave the
kingdom, may become denizens, I must still hesitate as to recommending a
foreigner to seek a French naturalization."

In this conversation, after a long but not wearisome journey, we reached
Rambouillet. The trunk was again brought from the coach, and a table
furnished with knives, spoons, and clean linen--a kind of essentials
seldom to be seen in a French inn, and more particularly in such inns as
we had reason to expect at some of our stages, in the course of our long
tour. A servant had likewise been sent before, so that a tolerable
dinner was already in a state of preparation. Being informed, however,
that we had an hour still good, Mr. Younge and Mademoiselle St. Sillery
insisted upon taking me to see the celebrated chateau in which Francis
the First, breathed his last.

Nothing can be more miserable, nothing more calculated to inspire
melancholy, than the situation and approach to this immense and most
disproportioned building. It is situated in a park, in the midst of
woods and waters, and most unaccountably, the very lowest ground in a
park of two thousand acres is chosen for its site. The approach to it
from the village is by a long avenue, planted on both sides by double
and treble rows of lofty trees, the tops of which are so broad and thick
as almost to meet each other. This avenue opens into a lawn, in the
centre of which is the chateau. It is an heavy and vast structure,
entirely of brick, and with the