These events have thrown a gloom over private societies; and public amusements, as I observed in a former letter, are little frequented; so that, on the whole, time passes heavily with a people who, generally speaking, have few resources in themselves.  Before the revolution, France was at this season a scene of much gaiety.  Every village had alternately a sort of Fete, which nearly answers to our Wake—­but with this difference, that it was numerously attended by all ranks, and the amusement was dancing, instead of wrestling and drinking.  Several small fields, or different parts of a large one, were provided with music, distinguished by flags, and appropriated to the several classes of dancers—­one for the peasants, another for the bourgeois, and a third for the higher orders.  The young people danced beneath the ardour of a July sun, while the old looked on and regaled themselves with beer, cyder, and gingerbread.  I was always much pleased with this village festivity:  it gratified my mind more than select and expensive amusements, because it was general, and within the power of all who chose to partake of it; and the little distinction of rank which was preserved, far from diminishing the pleasure of any, added, I am certain, to the freedom of all.  By mixing with those only of her own class, the Paysanne* was spared the temptation of envying the pink ribbons of the Bourgeoise, who in her turn was not disturbed by an immediate rivalship with the sash and plumes of the provincial belle.  But this custom is now much on the decline.  The young women avoid occasions where an inebriated soldier may offer himself as her partner in the dance, and her refusal be attended with insult to herself, and danger to those who protect her; and as this licence is nearly as offensive to the decent Bourgeoise as to the female of higher condition, this sort of fete will most probably be entirely abandoned.

The head-dress of the French _Paysanne_ is uniformly a small cap, without ribbon or ornament of any kind, except in that part of Normandy which is called the _Pays de Caux,_ where the Paysannes wear a particular kind of head dress, ornamented with silver.

The people here all dance much better than those of the same rank in England; but this national accomplishment is not instinctive:  for though few of the laborious class have been taught to read, there are scarcely any so poor as not to bestow three livres for a quarter’s instruction from a dancing master; and with this three months’ noviciate they become qualified to dance through the rest of their lives.