interests. But let every English person about to
marry a French person carefully study the Code
Napoléon beforehand, under the tutorship of
an intelligent avocat, and have the marriage
ceremonies, if possible, performed within the
limits of the French territory.

With the superior classes in France, paternal
authority remains almost what it was in patriarchal
and in feudal times. The mother scarcely
allows the daughter out of her sight; the girl,
consequently, is ignorant of worldly matters,
and has formed no habit of judging for herself,
which will serve to guide her after
marriage. She sees with mamma's eyes,
and hears with mamma's ears only, unless,
indeed, mamma allows her to be guided also
by a spiritual director. The mother feels the
burden of this responsibility, and hastens to
be rid of it by an early marriage, in which the
child is expected simply to acquiesce in the
parents' choice. We English, and also our
American cousins, severely criticise the little
free will allowed to French girls in a matter of
such immense importance, holding that it affords
but a slight prospect of future happiness.

The code requires that the bridegroom
should be at least eighteen, and the bride
fifteen years of age. It exacts the consent
not only of the two parties most interested, but
also of their fathers and mothers, and, failing
them, of their grandfathers and grandmothers,
and even of a family council, if no elder relations
exist. In the case of any of the seniors
refusing their sanction, in order to effect the
celebration of the marriage, in the first place,
the man must be twenty-five and the woman
twenty-one years of age; secondly, the party to
whom consent to marry is refused must institute
respectful proceedings (des actes respectueux)
addressed to the non-consenting father,
mother, or senior relation; in short, the child
must go to law with the parent to compel him
or her to show cause why consent should not be
given. But such " respectful proceedings " are
undertaken most unwillingly, and we cannot help
honouring the unwillingness. They are rarely
thought of, and still more rarely carried into
practice. They involve considerable delays,
which give time either for the projected marriage
to be relinquished, or for the parent to
yield at the last moment, to avoid being actually
compelled to consent. In the uncommon case
where the parental signature is withheld until
extorted by application of the pressure of law,
the ill blood so generated is probably greater
than that arising from the majority of our elopements.
But, in the way in which the system
generally and really works, the parent has as
good as a complete veto on his children's
marriages.

Consent being given, the marriage is preceded
by the publication of banns at the mayoralties
belonging to the residences of the contracting
parties; it must be celebrated by the mayor of
one of these residences, in the public mayoralty,
in the presence of four witnesses. The marriage
deed is signed by the parties, the witnesses, and
the mayor, and is kept in duplicate. This is
the civil marriage, which is indispensable by
law. The religious ceremonies—which may be
dispensed with, if the parties think fit—are
celebrated afterwards, whether Protestant or Roman
Catholic, according to the creed of the bride and
bridegroom. A few couples are married civilly
only; if the gentleman thinks lightly of the
benediction of the Romish priest—his repugnance
being further increased by the condition of his
making auricular confession to the said priest
before it is granted—the lady's friends will
rarely allow the religious marriage (a sacrament)
to be omitted. Of course the priesthood do all
in their power to discourage unblessed unions
by throwing an indirect stigma on the offspring,
such as by refusing to allow the church bell to
ring at the baptism of children whose parents
have not been married at church but at the
mayoralty only.

In accordance with the doctrine of the state
religion, the law of France declares marriage
to be indissoluble. The only course open
to married couples who find it impossible
to live together, is separation, in cases laid
down by law. The number of separations is a
sort of touchstone of the wisdom of the choice
which husbands and wives have made, and of
the degree of harmony existing between them.
It is to be regretted that, in France, separations
are augmenting in a proportion which is far
from following the slow increase of the population.
Official statistics inform us that the number
of demands for separation, which from 1851
to 1855 averaged from 1000 to 1100 annually,
rose to 1727 in 1857, and to 1977 in 1858. Of
these demands, 1777 were made by wives, and
200 only by husbands. It is not pretended that
statistics will tell us all about unhappy marriages.
In France, as in other countries, there
are separations by mutual consent, which avoid
the public scandal of law proceedings; and
there are the still deeper sorrows which hide
themselves from every eye, assuming the outward
appearance of content, avoiding even a
separation by mutual consent, for the interest and
reputation of a rising family.

A married Frenchwoman is in every respect
her husband's equal; he is not her lord and
master, but her friend. "Mon ami," is the
title by which she addresses him. The law may
require her to love him, to honour him by
virtuous conduct, but not to obey him. He has
indeed a certain superiority in the management
of their common interests, but her rights are
not the more effaced for that; in certain cases
her concurrence is indispensable, and she has a
deliberative voice with an absolute veto. She
remains the mistress of the whole of her fortune,
by making a reservation respecting her personal
property. The husband and wife are two partners
who club their capital for mutual advantage,
but who keep it distinct in their accounts,
to facilitate any partial or complete dissolution.
She can make her will, and leave her husband
without a sou of hers; if she die intestate, her
property, in some cases, slips completely through