excessive— rigour. We copy one out of several
instances lying before us, textually from the official
journal of a French department. It occupies
the most conspicuous place, and is in larger
type than the rest of the page.

"Insertion by authority of Justice. Extract
from a Sentence pronounced the 29th of January,
1864:

"The person named LEQUETTE (Charles Constantin),
aged thirty-three years, merchant milkman,
dwelling at Arras, has been condemned, by
the said sentence, to eight days' imprisonment
and a fine of fifty francs, for having adulterated an
alimentary article destined to be sold, by putting
into his milk two-tenths of water. It has,
moreover, been ordained that this sentence
should be posted, by quotation, to the number
of eleven copies, notably on the door of the
prisoner's house, and that it should also
be inserted once, by quotation, in the journal
Le Courrier du Pas-de-Calais, and that at his
expense."

Note how strictly our neighbours adhere to
their decimal system. They can't say "one-fifth"
of water, but "deux dixièmes." The
unkindest cut of all is the accusing poster on
the culprit's door. The fine might be paid;
the prison might be entered as a temporary
residence— everybody must board and lodge
somewhere— but the ignominious paste and
paper are enough to raise a blister on the door
itself.

Other like offences are visited by similar inflictions.
For example, another number of the
same newspaper opens with: "The person
named LEVEL, aged thirty-six years, egg-merchant,
born and dwelling at St. Amand, arrondissement
d'Arras, has been condemned to
eight days' imprisonment for having offered
for sale, in Arras market-place, eggs which
he knew to be rotten. It has, moreover,
been ordained that this sentence should be
posted to the number of twelve copies, notably
upon the door of the house of the said Level,
and that it should, besides, be inserted in the
journal Le Courrier du Pas-de-Calais."

The strictness of the French municipal authorities
respecting the quality of the milk brought
in for sale, has given rise to curious scenes. One
small fortified town had to abstain from that
liquid for a whole day. It had been suspected,
for some time past, that the milk from the
country was not so good as it should be; so it
was determined to try it, and make an example.
One fine summer's morning, the first-come milk
was tested and condemned; its vendors accordingly
were booked for punishment. The legal
avengers, like spiders in the centre of their web,
quietly awaited the entrance of fresh arrivals
within the walls; but no milk-bearers came,
human or asinine. The news had spread outside,
like wildfire, causing a general rout of donkeys
and milk-cans. The officials therefore sallied
forth to make a raid, intending to pounce upon
their victims there and then. But they found
the ground covered with pools of what should
have been milk, while its guilty owners fled in
all directions, barely saving their pots and pails.
Next day, and for some time afterwards, the
community was served with milk genuine as the
cow had yielded it.

What, then, it may be asked, is to become of
the immense quantity of skimmed milk which
remains in the hands of butter-makers? This:
Its public sale (in that shape) should be utterly
prohibited. Converted into cheese, or assimilated
into pork, it becomes wholesome and saleable
food. But as skimmed milk it should not be
allowed to go beyond the producer's homestead.
There, it may do real good, by entering into the
composition of broth and bread, and by helping
to feed domestic animals and poultry. Curd,
which it yields, is especially useful in rearing
young chicken and turkey-poults.

Three principal motives urge French legislators
to insist on a supply of unadulterated
milk. First, regard to the public health, which
is intimately connected with such a supply.
Secondly, agricultural interests; the better milk
is, the more will be consumed; the more there
is consumed, the more cows will have to be kept,
and the greater will be the resulting quantity of
manure, which is the backbone and mainstay of
agriculture. Finally, commercial morality is
promoted by the refusal of justice to close its
eyes to, or tolerate, the slightest mercantile
fraud. It is the same principle which suggested
the severity of the French Code against theft,
burglary, highway robbery, swindling, breach of
confidence, and the like. And it would be rash
to deny that that severity produces excellent
deterrent effects. "Not English," objects the
British bigot. So much the better, say we.

A frequent cause of the adulteration of milk
is the demand of the buyer for unreasonable
cheapness. If the consumer insist on having,
for a penny, a quantity of milk which is worth
three-halfpence, and if one competitive milkman
will supply the article required, other milkmen
follow the example, and the quality of the milk
is deteriorated. It would be much better
economy to pay a better price for a better
article. Consenting to be fed with diluted milk,
is, in fact, the first step to living exclusively on
the pure contents of the limpid stream. But
one's own bodily frame ought to be the very last
subject for experiment in the art of reducing
necessaries to their lowest figure. A man may
try to bring his horse down to a straw per day,
but it would be imprudent to carry out the
system by confining his own nutriment to a daily
pint of milk and water. In short, it is better to
have to pay a coal-merchant's, tailor's, butcher's,
even a milkman's bill, than an apothecary's or
an undertaker's.

On the other hand, some few milk-sellers may
be tempted by their own greediness to make
undue profits. They may do so for a time, but
will find themselves mistaken in the end.
Honesty, in all things, is the very best policy.
The persevering sale of genuine milk will alone
secure and retain good customers. But milk
varies in its composition naturally; in which
case, the fraud is imaginary. It also occurs