The Press.
London, England, 1855-03-03 00:00:00

SATURDAY,

A Ramble through Normandy. By George M.
Musgrave, M.A.. London: Bogue.
Mn. MUSGRAVE'S book is one of those which
are best left to speak for themselves. He
journeyed through a country which has lately
been so thoroughly explored by our " roving
" Englishmen" that it would be tiresome to fol-
low in his steps. The obvious features of the
land have been often described, and. for this
reason what he saw is of less importance than
how he saw it. The merit of his volume must
depend less on its matter than its style. It is
to the mind of the author rather than to the
external objects with which he deals that we
must look for entertainment.
Fortunately, Mr. Musgrave has a mind
equally vivacious and well cultivated. The
towns, the monuments, the celebrated locali-
ties of Normandy are texts upon which he can
discourse with the 'eloquence and knowledge
of a master. We do not mean to say that he
pretends to profound acquirements. His
style is gay and glancing rather than serious ;
but with his lively loquacity he indicates the
historical memories and archreological remains
of one of the most engaging provinces on the
face of the globe, and with his ready pencil
brings objects of special regard before the
reader's eye. He observes no other kind of
method than the order of his reflections ; on
one page we have a vivid description of some
present peculiarity of the land or people, and
on the next the capital of a column, or a piece
of grotesque wood-carving, carries us back
to the days of Norman chivalry and the dawn-
ing greatness of the race which hasp layed a
more conspicuous part than any other in
modern history.
Our author has other qualities requisite !for
a tourist who ventures to tread beaten
ground. He has shrewd sense, a uoyant
bosom, an eagle eye, generous feeling,b and au
imagination readily impressible. If not always
original, he is never dull. The stores of his
mind, freely thrown forth, will afford some in•
formation to the best-instructed ; while those
who know Normandy only through books or
from a rapid visit will gather from these
animated pages a most pleasing conception of
the province. Indeed, the whole country is re-
presented under so charming an aspect that the
book, we make no doubt, will bring a large in-
crease of custom to the hotel-keepers in
Norman towns.
With these few prefatory remarks we turn
to the book itself ; but before his departure from
England, we extract, for the benefit of travellers
with excellent appetites, Mr. Musgrave's plan of
securing a good dinner at those railway
stations, Swindon to wit, where " ten minutes
only are allowed a hungry crowd for a substan-
tial meal:—
Let me lend a helping-hand to any man who may wish
to accomplish the act of dining on this occasion, without
being scalded or choked for lack of dexterity and discrimi-
nation. Whilst others are losing precious moments in
vain endeavours to swallow soup at 210 degs. of tempera-
ture, I advise a rush to the nearest uncut fowl ; it is always
alongside of a ham or tongue. Secure the entire leg—
leaving the wing and breast for some gentler and fairer
consumer ; cut deep and deftly into the ham, and, while
calling for a glass of ale, deposit a wedge of veal-pie (all
ready ranged for whoever might fancy it, in a plate) upon
the slice of ham, and cut for your piece de resistance a due
ration of the cold round of beef. (The pickled walnuts
are good there.) When you have disposed of this, you
may instantly turn to the soup—which by this time is not
too hot to be swallowed. Return to your plate, and finish
the wedge of pie and the ale ; but if the bell ring before
the pie-ration can be finished, bear it off in your newspaper,
and terminate on the platform, or in the carriage; no one
will take umbrage at this dewier resort, as there is a general
sense of disapprobation and outrage at the scant measure
Qf time allowed for snatching a few morsels while the train
halts. Dinner, after a certain fashion, will then be a fait
accompli ; and certainly when " a bona fide traveller," as
the late Beer Act has it, is compelled to eat and drink at
threepence a minute, he may as well be au fait at the

process.
In contrast to this desperate mode of eating
against time, the author relates the deliberate
breakfast made by an elegant French lady and
her husband on board a Seine steam-boat.
Every one must have admired the pertinacious
appetite of our excellent neighbours, only to
be accounted for by supposing that the
stomach is as active in digesting food as the
jaws are in receiving it; but the Normans, ac-
cording to our author, must beat all other
French people in their gastronomic capacity :
The French seldom take that meal (breakfast) before
ten or eleven o'clock. I was sketching on the hatchway,