In the Basque country, as in Brittany, the clergy have a great influence over the daily life of the people. The Basques are not as fanatically devout as the Bretons, but nevertheless they look to the _curé_ to explain away many things that they do not understand themselves; and let it be said the Basque _curé_ does his duty as a leader of opinion for the good of one and all, much better than does the country squire in England who occupies a somewhat analogous position. It is through the church that the Euskarian population of the Basses-Pyrenees have one of their strongest ties with traditional antiquity. The _curés_ and the communicants of his parish are usually of one race. There is a real community of ideas. As for the education of the new generation of Basques, it is keeping pace with that of the other inhabitants of France, though in times past even rudimentary education was far behind, and from the peasant class of only a generation or so ago, out of four thousand drawn for service in the army, nearly three hundred were destitute of the knowledge of how to read and write. In ten years, however, this percentage has been reduced one half. The emigration of the Basques has ever been a serious thing for the prosperity of the region. Thirteen hundred emigrated from the "Basque Française" (for South and Central America) and fifteen hundred from the "Basque Espagnole." In figures this emigration has been considerably reduced of late, but the average per year for the last fifty years has been (from the Basse-Pyrenees Département alone) something like seventeen hundred. The real, simon-pure Basque is seen at his best at Saint Jean-Pied-de-Port, the ancient capital of French Navarre. "_Urtun hiriti urrumoffagariti_," say the inhabitants: "Far from the city, far from health." This isn't according to the doctors, but let that pass. To know the best and most typical parts of the Basque country, one should make the journey from Saint Jean-Pied-de-Port to Mauléon and Tardets. Here things are as little changed from mediævalism as one will find in modern France. One passes from the valley of the Nive into the valley of the Bidouze. There are no railways and one must go by road. The road is excellent moreover, though the distance is not great. Here is where the automobilist scores, but if one wants to take a still further step back into the past he may make the forty kilomètres by diligence. This is a real treat too, not at all to be despised as a means of travel, but one must hurry up or the three franc diligence will be supplanted by a "light railway," and then where will mediævalism come in. All the same, if you've got a feverish automobile panting outside St. Jean's city gate, jump in.