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 356 ONCE  A WEEK. [October 29,  1899.

“good society.”  And  at  the  bottom  of  all  this lies the  one  master  circumstance  of  the  mode  of transmission  of  property. The existence  of  the eldest son,  and  future  representative  and  head  of the  family — let  not  our  countrywomen  forget  it  I — makes  the  love-match  necessarily  the  basis  on which  the  social  edifice  is  raised. Subvert this, and you  must  come  to  the  money-marriage — the so-called maria  ge  de  convenance; and  when  you have come  to  that,  you  have  come  to  all  that  is otherwise  than  as  it  should  be  in  modem  French society. We will  show  this  by  example.

A father of  a family  has  four  sons,  or  two  sons and two  daughters,  and  is  possessed  of  2000/. sterling a year. He brings  up  his  children  in what  abroad  is  termed  great  luxury. He has  a handsome  apartment  in  Paris,  and  what  he  styles  a chateau  down  in  some  province,  and  his  wife  and his children  have  any  number  of  fine  dresses,  and ride in  comfortable  carriages,  go  to  operas  and plays, and  pass  for  very  fine  people  altogether. One fine  day  the  old  gentleman  dies,  and  then comes what  is  called  the  “division ” of  everything he possessed. The house  in  the  country  is  sold (mostly in  very  small  parcels  to  forty  or  fifty proprietors); the  horses  and  carriages  are  sold; the pictures,  plate,  furniture,  wine — all  is  sold; and the  very  clothes  the  dead  man  last  wore  are disposed of  for  whatever  they  will  fetch; * the  pro- duce being shared  to  the  minutest  fraction  among the survivors,  who  for  the  time  cease  to  be  sons and daughters,  in  order  to  become  literally  only “heirs. ”

All law  expenses  (which  are  very  heavy)  being discharged, each  member  of  the  family  will  begin by having  about  450/. a year to  spend. At the outset, the  sons  will  think  this  a goodly  sum,  and they will  begin  by  going  on  as  they  used  to  do when  they  had  to  partake  of  four  times  that amount. Nine times  out  of  ten  they  commit some absurdity  in  the  way  of  speculation,  which reduces their  income  considerably,  and  then  a “money-match ” has  to  be  resorted  to  to  set  all square again; or  else  they  prudently  begin  by looking  out  for  the  money-match,  and  proceed according to  the  rule  recognised  in  France,  that “a husband is  worth  at  least  three  times  the fortune he  brings.’ * In  either  case,  whether  pre- ventively or curatively,  the  “money -match ” is made,  and  two  separate  fortunes  are  united  with comparatively little  attention  to  the  tastes,  habits, or affections  of  the  two  individuals  possessing them.

With the  daughters,  supposing  them  to  be  still unmarried when  they  succeed  to  their  fortunes, the “matching ” process  is  also  instantly  brought into play,  and  the  ingenuity  of  every  female  rela- tive is forthwith  exercised  to  obtain  the  best  price for the  orphans,  and  drive  the  hardest  bargain with the  future  bridegrooms. Whatever obstacle may intervene  (and  never  was  a marriage  in France  which  it  was  not  sought  by  every  imaginable means  to  prevent),  these  money-matches  always

is set  forth  on  these  sad  occasions  in  France; and  sons  who h ive been  the  most  submissive  during  a parent’s  life  will,  at his  death,  haggle  like  Jews  with  their  brethren  over  every threadbare raiment  that  may  be  left. They will  have  the value of  everything  up  to  the  last  peuny.
 * There can  be  no  moans  of  exaggerating  the  avidity  that

are somehow  or  other  concluded — how  to  end,  a glance  at  French  literature  or  the  French  stage will quickly  show.

But it  cannot  be  otherwise. Marriages must  be so  concluded  in  France,  because  the  unlimited subdivision of  property  makes  it  impossible  that there should  be  a man  who  perpetuates  “the family,” who  is  rich  enough  to  buy  his  wife  and not sell  himself  and  whose  exceptional  condition forces his  younger  brothers  to  exert  themselves, and be  in  turn  thriving  men,  who,  having  made money, can  afford  to  marry  the  women  they  love, and have  chosen  for  their  wives.

It is  a recognised  fact,  to  which  we  have alluded, that  there  are  no  girls  in  France. Why should there  be? Where wives  are  chosen  for their more  or  less  of  wealth,  why  should  they trouble themselves  to  be  attractive  before  mar- riage? They are  so  only  after  marriage,  which they call  freedom. To be  married  is,  in  France, to be  free. Where money-matches  are  the  basis on which  the  social  edifice  is  raised,  there  can  be no  equivalent  to  what  we  are  accustomed  to  in the  shape  of  an  English  girl — a self-acting,  sen- tient, responsible member  of  society,  who  chooses and is  chosen,  and  who  gives  her  hand  only  when her heart  has  preceded  the  gift.

It has  become  so  proverbial  that  French  girls are absolute  nobodies,  and  only  grow  into  some- bodies after they  are  married  women,  that  it  will, at first,  be  scarcely  believed  that  a century  and a half ago  French  girls  were  more  independent, more self-reliant,  than  any  English  girl  could  be now. The “fastest ” young  lady  ever  heard  of  in our  isles  would  be  distanced  by  the  young  ladies of the  seventeenth  century  in  France,  and  all  the Hi Vernons  and  Kate  Coventrys  in  Great  Britain are boarding-school  misses  compared  to  the  Marie de Hauteforts  and  the  Jacqueline  de  Meurdracs  of the  days  of  the  Fronde. Look at  the  Grande Mademoiselle who  took  the  Bastille  and  besieged Orleans, and  (leaving  her  aside,  for  she  was,  as  a princess,  exceptional)  look  at  her  fair  aides-de- camp. We w'ilT,  in  order  to  convey  a correct notion to  our  reader’s  mind  of  what  a French  girl could be  under  the  Regency  of  Anne  of  Austria, sketch out  the  life  of  Mademoiselle  de  Meurdrac,  and show how  what  was  in  those  days  called  a femme vaiUante astonished  no  one,  and  was,  as  we  have said, far  beyond  anything  that  we  imagine  to ourselves  as  “fast.”

In 1612,  a gentleman  and  his  wife,  in  the  pro- vince of Brie,  close  to  Paris,  lived  in  their  ch&teau with their  only  child,  Jacqueline. Monsieur and Madame de  Meurdrac  were  by  no  means  surprised that as  the  young  lady  grew  up  all  she  took  to were  masculine  amusements. She tamed  all  the horses she  could  lay  hands  on,  went  out  shooting with all  the  guns  she  could  find,  turned  her neighbours’ daughters  into  bitter  ridicule  becauso they were  “effeminate,”  and  was  so  adroit  with her rapier  that  no  cavalier  within  thirty  miles cared to  cross  foils  with  her. Mademoiselle Jac- queline was a most  “accomplished ” young  person, handsome withal,  and  on  all  hands  admitted  to be  the  most  desirable  daughter-in-law  that  any proper gentlewoman  with  a son  could  possibly find.