First Impressions on a Tour upon the Continent

We saw the peasants making ropes by the side of the road; one man carried a distaff in his hand, much bigger than a large stable broom. I bought of a villageoise at Macon one of the little hats and caps before mentioned. She attempted to impose upon me as to the price; but I do not consider this at all as a national trait. I am afraid an English countrywoman would have been equally anxious to make the best bargain she could, fairly or otherwise! The cap was really very becoming, even to my British features. I saw in one of the cottages a loaf of their bread: it was extremely coarse, and as flat, round, and large as a table. There is a grand chain of mountains on the right, called the Charolais. We again observed cows ploughing in the fields: they had all a curious head-dress, a sort of veil or network, to preserve them from the flies, like the military bridles of our dragoon horses. Most of the cattle hereabouts (and we had seen quantities) were of a cream colour. The country is luxuriant, full of chateaux, fertile, and cultivated, more so than any we had yet observed, and it is allowed to be the finest part of France. Mr. W. examined the nature of the soil, and found it fat and rich in the highest degree. I must once more repeat my admiration of the frequent and great beauty of the young children in this country, more particularly in these parts. I saw several with cheeks like the sunny side of a peach; little, round, plump faces, and delicately chiselled features, with a profusion of luxuriant hair hanging in natural ringlets upon their shoulders: the mere babies also are very interesting. The parents throughout France are remarkable for love of offspring⁴.

About three or four miles from Macon you enter the department of the Maconnais, and afterwards that of the Jura (so called from the mountains of the same name), but formerly known by that of the Lyonnais. We saw at St. George de Rognains a most beautiful woman, a villageoise; her proportions were fine, and rather full; her face very much in the style of our well-known English belles, Lady O. and Mrs. L.; but she was not so large as either of them. She wore the usual costume of her native place, which was more peculiarly marked in the cap. It is extremely becoming, and pretty in itself. I know not how to describe it exactly; but it is flat upon the crown, with a good deal of coarse transparent lace, like wings, full every where but on the brow, across which it is laid low and plain, in the style of some antique pictures I remember to have seen. This superb woman's fine features set it off amazingly. She also wore a flowered cotton gown (of gay colours upon a dark ground), a crimson apron and bib, with a white handkerchief. What a charming portrait would Sir Thomas Lawrence have made of her, and how she would astonish the amateurs of beauty in England, were she suddenly to appear among them! I am thus particular in describing costume, to please the readers of my own sex. We met here some religieuses walking in the road, belonging to a convent in the distance. Their habit was not very remarkable, except that they wore black veils, with high peaks on the front of the head, and long rosaries by their sides.

Villefranche; a populous old town. It was market day; yet not one instance of intoxication did we see, neither here nor in any other part of France through which we had passed. Certainly drunkenness is not the vice of the nation, although they have a due admiration for strong beer, which is sold under the name of bonne bierre de Mars. There is a fine church here, of Gothic architecture.

We did not reach Lyons until late at night; and, as I was very much fatigued, and longed to get into the hotel, I thought the length of the environs and suburbs endless. However, we arrived at last, and after a refreshing sleep, were awakened the next morning by the firing of cannon close under our windows. It was the fête of St. Louis, which is always celebrated with particular pomp and splendour. It was also the great jubilee of the Lyonese peruquiers, who went in procession to high mass, and from thence to an entertainment prepared for them. The jouteurs (or plungers in water) likewise made a very magnificent appearance. They walked two and two round the town, and after a famous dinner (laid out for them in a lower apartment of our hotel) proceeded to exhibit a sort of aquatic tournament, in boats, upon the river. This is a very ancient festival, and is mentioned (if I recollect right) by Rousseau. The dress of the combatants (among whom were several young boys of eight and five years old) was very handsome and fanciful, entirely composed of white linen, ornamented with knots of dark-blue riband. They had white kid leather shoes, tied with the same colours, caps richly ornamented with gold, and finished with gold tassels. In their hands they carried blue and gold oars, and long poles, and upon their breasts a wooden sort of shield or breastplate, divided into square compartments, and strapped firmly on like armour, or that peculiar ornament, the ephod, worn by the ancient Jewish high priests. Against this they pushed with the poles as hard as possible, endeavouring to jostle and overturn their opponents; the vanquished, falling into the water, save themselves by swimming, while the victors carry off a prize. We went down stairs to see these heroes at dinner, and one of them civilly invited us into the room, to observe every particular at our ease.

The military were all drawn out this morning, and I thought there never would be an end of their firing, trumpeting, &c.; the whole town resounded with noise, bustle, and gay confusion. We distinguished the Swiss guards, who wore a red uniform, like the English troops; a fine regiment of chasseurs, green, faced with red; a troop of lancers, on beautiful spirited black horses, uniform green and orange; the national guards, dark blue and red, with cocked hats; and, lastly, the foot guards, in white: the officers of the latter really looked like London footmen; nothing could be more ugly and ungentlemanly than their costume. All these were reviewed in la Grande Place, built by Bonaparte, who laid the first stone. The houses there are very handsome, and some of them rise to the height of seven stories. A steep hill, covered with vines, and crowned by buildings like castles, forms the background of this fine place, at the bottom of which rolls the grand and magnificent Rhone. Our inn (l'hotel de Provence) stood here. It is a very comfortable, excellent, well-ordered establishment: the apartments assigned for our particular use put me in mind of the old state-rooms in our shabby palace of St. James. The furniture was of crimson and white satin damask, and the beds of rich crimson damask; Lyons, as all the world knows, being famous for its rich silks. The ancient arm-chairs were studded with gilt nails, and the brick-floors carefully rubbed and polished till they resembled marble. That of the salle à manger was of curiously inlaid oak. The attendants were all men: one of them made my bed, and was perpetually frisking in and out (in his department of housemaid), rather to my annoyance and surprise. The first night of our arrival, I was shut up (as I thought) in my own room, unpacking my sac de nuit, when, upon turning suddenly round, I saw the great rough figure of our postillion, who had entered without knocking, and was standing much at his ease, expecting to be paid. The garçon who waited at dinner was a fine specimen of the honest, cheerful French peasant lad, his countenance and manner the perfection of good humour and simplicity.

The promenade of the town (a walk of shady trees in the midst of la Grande Place) being filled with gay groups in every possible variety of costume, offered a most amusing spectacle to a stranger's eye. We sat there some time upon the hired chairs, which are in as great request as at Paris. Here we found booths, kept by venders of tisanne, lemonade, &c. who were, some of them, niched in little covered tubs, like Diogenes. We were much stared at; but not with any rudeness or incivility. We even imagined that we saw a more favourable expression of countenance in the people of Lyons (while gazing upon the English) than in those of Paris. In the latter we certainly did now and then discover the signs of unequivocal hatred and dislike; and although they never gave vent (in our hearing at least) to their ill-will in words, there was a mute eloquence of eye, which it is difficult to mistake.

But to return to the promenade, &c. my petticoat of moravian work seemed to catch the admiring observation of all the females who passed; and indeed I ought, in justice to our British needlewomen, to remark, that their performance is rarely equalled, and assuredly never surpassed, by their continental rivals, however highly French work may be praised and sought after by our capricious leaders of ton.

The confluence of the rivers Rhone and Saone here is reckoned to be one of the finest things of the kind in Europe. We went to see it, but were rather disappointed in its effect; for the late uncommonly dry season had greatly diminished the pride of both these celebrated streams. It takes place at a spot about half a mile distant from the town, and we drove thither in a ridiculous hired vehicle, called a carriole, very like a long four-posted bedstead, on wheels, with coarse linen curtains for summer weather, and black shabby leather ones for winter. A seat, resembling a mattrass, was slung on the inside, upon which the people sit back to back, like those in an Irish jaunting car. The driver is upon a seat in front, and manages two horses, which are generally ornamented with frontlets, and knots of gay riband and bells. Our coachman was quite a coxcomb, sporting smart nankeen trowsers, gaiters, and yellow shoes of washed leather.

The women at Lyons struck us as remarkably ugly, and we actually were unable to discover a single pretty face among them. We met a country dame, stumping into town to partake in the gaieties of the fête, dressed in a bright yellow gown, tucked up at the pocket-holes, so as to display a full rose-coloured petticoat beneath, white stockings, black slippers, a deep gipsy hat of Leghorn straw, and a white handkerchief with the usual flowered border.

Nothing can be handsomer than this town: it much resembles Bath, particularly in its environs, which are built upon hanging hills, and embosomed in woods and vineyards. The convent of St. Michael, rising among them, is very ugly, however, reminding one of a large Birmingham manufactory. Here dwell les Sœurs de la Charité, and we were informed that they really are of great use, and do much good in their generation, which cannot, alas! be said of the regular nuns, poor victims!

At night we went to the comedie. The theatre was dirty, and somewhat shabby; all the light thrown exclusively upon the stage, as usual in foreign theatres. The actors were really extremely good, and the audience seemed a loyal one upon the whole, which was discoverable by their seizing and duly applauding the several claptraps which occurred in the piece they were exhibiting. It was La partie de Chasse de Henri quatre– the first scene a beautiful part of the forest of Fontainbleau. The story, though familiar to every body, seemed to interest all hearts, ours among the rest. I confess that, for my own part, I was surprised by feeling the tears coursing each other down my face, when I least expected it; and yet I was a stranger and a foreigner! How must the French, then, feel in the recollection of this and all the other thousand acts of benevolence and magnanimity of their glorious monarch, whose now beatified spirit seems to shed a guardian glory around the heads of his descendants! We returned home immediately after the representation of this piece, not staying the farce; and after taking coffee, once more sallied forth to view the beautiful illuminations which were displayed in honour of the day. The night was clear, warm, and balmy, and the whole population of the city (a hundred and nine thousand persons) seemed to be walking about, enjoying themselves completely. The effect of the lights reflected upon the distant vine-clad hills was singularly beautiful. I admired the costume of many of the children here; they wore large shepherdess-sort of Leghorn hats with very low crowns, wreathed with pretty roses, which harmonized with their little innocent round faces remarkably well. The soldiers, paysannes, and some of the bourgeoises, were dancing quadrilles under the trees of the promenade, which was lighted much in the manner of Vauxhall. There was a busy hum of voices in the air, swelling upon the breeze, mixed with notes of animating music, and occasional bursts of mirth and laughter, which, I believe, might have been heard for miles. In short, the scene was a perfect carnival. On reaching our inn, we saw the officers of the foot guards (who had been dining together in the same apartment occupied by the jouteurs in the morning) dancing waltzes to the loud music of their own band, in which the brazen tones of the trumpet were painfully pre-eminent. For want of female partners, they had, some of them, taken off their coats, and dressed themselves up in mob caps, shawls, and petticoats made of the dinner napkins. In this strange costume they tore about the room, swinging each other in a manner that disgusted while it made us smile. The master of the house, who seemed to think all this very fine, wanted to know if Madame would not join in the merry dance? (meaning me); but Mr. B. quietly declined the obliging proposal, saying, "I was not quite strong enough for such an attempt just now." Upon which Monsieur came behind me, and, supporting me under both the elbows, almost carried me up the stairs to the door of our apartment; so obsequious are the French to all women. There is a proverb relative to our sex, which observes, that Paris est le paradis des femmes, le purgatoire des maris, et l'enfer des chevaux. I, as an English wife, however, can imagine no place to be a paradise for me, which is at the same time a punishment to my husband; neither could I taste perfect felicity, if it was purchased at the expense of my brute fellow-creatures. But I do not mean tediously to moralize upon a little jeu d'esprit, which has some wit and truth in it, after all.

Determined to make the most of our short time, we went the next day to see the cathedral, which is of Moorish architecture. Within we found a singular mixture of orders; the Corinthian, composite, Gothic, Saxon, and a sort of nondescript, which (as we were none of us particularly learned on the subject) we concluded to be the regular Moorish. The whole body of this fine building appeared glowing with the rose and purple tints of sunset, and the gold ornaments upon the high altar actually flamed resplendent in this lovely light, as if they had been formed of solid fire! The effect was produced by the stained glass of the windows, of every possible variety of colour, magnificent beyond all idea, and far different from any which we had ever seen before; indeed, in attempting to describe their peculiarity, I feel that I have done foolishly, as it is impossible to give my readers any adequate notion of their extraordinary splendour and beauty. We did not so much admire another curiosity exhibited here, which is a clock, from a niche in the front of which, when it strikes the hours, a figure of the Virgin suddenly protrudes, and makes a gracious inclination of the body; while in another recess above there is a very paltry and shocking representative of the Father, who also leans forward in the act of giving his benediction. The attempt thus to embody the inconceivable glories of person belonging to the unseen God is both absurd and impious; yet surely not so much so, as the wish and endeavour of some fanatics to shroud the ineffable mercy and benevolence of the same being beneath a dark, chilling, and repulsively gloomy veil of severity, wrath, and implacability. In both cases, the true features of the Divinity are shamefully and ridiculously misrepresented. We also saw two fine white marble statues of St. Stephen and St. John, both spoilt by crowns of trumpery artificial flowers and tinsel, which gave them the air of our "Jacks in the green" on May-day.

We returned to our hotel, when, after an excellent dinner, we tasted for the first time fresh almonds, brought up in their outside rinds; they resemble small withered peaches in a green state, and I believe, speaking scientifically, that they are in fact a species of that fruit, and are classed accordingly; we found them very good, resembling filberts in flavour, and they are eaten with salt, in the same manner.

The next morning we bade adieu to Lyons; on the road from thence, at a place called St. Laurent des Mures, we saw the women as well as the men threshing corn, and this in the open air – a strong proof of fine climate: we afterwards remarked the practice universally. There are many walnut trees about here, but the country was flat and dull for some miles. We now however passed over a heath, (where, as Shakespeare expresses it, "the air smelt wooingly,") enriched by wood, and banks of waving fern, bounded by some near mountains; there was a picturesque view of a castle, upon the summit of a hill, embosomed in trees. These objects were a great relief to the eye, after the eternal stubble fields near Lyons. Here we observed ploughing performed by mules, which I approved of much, when compared with the use of cows for these sort of labours; the latter, poor things, are of such inestimable value in other respects, that surely it is very unfair to require their services as beasts of burthen. The roofs of the buildings in this neighbourhood now first began to assume an Italian character, and to harmonize with the ideas I had formed of the vicinity of the Alps, which were visible in the distance; but the latter did not improve the landscape so much as my hitherto untravelled eyes had expected, for they were so far off, that they resembled clouds, for which I should certainly have mistaken them, had I not been told what they really were. We here encountered a peasant, who was thin enough to have passed for the Death in Burgher's "Leonora: " his face was a mere skull, with a sallow skin strained over it; his black eager eyes deep sunk in their immense sockets. I was quite afraid of dreaming of him.

For several days past, we had taken leave of the peculiar costume of the postillions, which is not much retained on this side of Paris. Cattle now were seen of all colours; the country became more undulating and woody, and the vineyards wore a very different and much more graceful appearance, being trained far higher, not formally planted, (as I have before described) but frequently twined around standard apple and other trees, from which they hung in light and careless festoons, forming altogether a singular effect of blended foliage. They are universally trained in this manner in Italy; the French pretend that the produce is thereby rendered less plentiful, and that what is gained in beauty is lost in value: I cannot pronounce upon the truth of the assertion. The walnut-tree grew here in increased profusion, mixed frequently with the mulberry, forming an agreeable shade to the road.

We breakfasted at Bourgoin, where they gave us good provisions, but charged in a most extravagant way. There is a great deal of marshy land, and the inhabitants look unhealthy: some of them have goîtres (or glandular swellings) in consequence of extreme relaxation from the moisture of the air. Two filthy girls waited upon us at breakfast: they wore no caps, and their hair was in a most disgusting condition. We afterwards remarked numbers of women, equally devoid of coifs and cleanliness. Apropos to the former, I certainly greatly incline to prefer them to the more classical and simple fashion of wearing the head wholly uncovered: there is something very feminine and pretty in a white, neat, well-plaited cap, set off by a bright coloured riband and smart knot; and I really think the French paysannes knew what they were about, when they so universally adopted that costume.

The country shortly changed to a scene of wonderful richness and beauty, resembling the finest parts of Devonshire; but the view of an immense crucifix rising picturesquely amid the woods gave it a foreign character at once. Nothing can exceed the loveliness of this part of France; it is indeed exquisite, and doubly pleasing from its rarity. The unusual heat of the late summer (felt as sensibly as in England) had dried up most of the smaller rivers and brooks hereabouts, and the dust was actually flying in their sandy channels. We were now in Dauphiny.

A few miles before we entered Beauvoisin (which divides Dauphiny from Savoy), a very grand amphitheatre of the Savoy mountains rose suddenly upon us. The sight was peculiarly striking to me, as I had never yet seen the effect of this sort of scenery. We frequently observed buildings here of the pisè or mud, very neatly finished; indeed we were surprised to perceive how much they had contrived to make of so base and common a material. We met some countrywomen riding astride, which had a very odd appearance —odd is a vague term, and rather an unclassical one: I am perfectly aware of its defects but I cannot at this moment think of any other which would so well express my meaning; yet confound me not, kind reader, with that mass of ignorant and conceited persons, who always call every thing odd which they themselves either cannot understand, or to which they happen to be unaccustomed. Such, for instance, whom I have heard designating Byron's grand poetical conceptions as odd fancies, or the exquisite sketches of Westall's imaginative pencil as odd things, or calling the truly enlightened and liberal theological sentiments of Paley, Watson, Fellows, &c. odd opinions. But I have rambled strangely from the point; the little countrywomen and their nags completely ran away with me! In spite of the oddity of their position, I am ready candidly to allow that there is a great deal of safety in it.

Beauvoisin is in the near vicinity of prodigiously fine scenery. We passed through groves of the grandest chestnut trees, loaded with a profusion of fruit, and the whole face of nature afforded such a superb union of the beautiful and sublime, that we thought all we had previously seen in France paltry in the comparison. The silkworm is much cultivated here, and we saw many of the peasants employed in spinning both silk and flax with distaffs and wheels; multitudes of women and girls were seated at their doors, as we passed through Beauvoisin, all busied in this occupation: they seemed to be chatting together very happily, their tongues going as fast as their fingers. I thought of Shakespeare's "spinners and knitters in the sun" telling "their tales." We dined at the horrid little hole of an inn at this place, dirty, dark, and full of the usual bad odours so prevalent in continental habitations. The meal was served, as might be expected, in a slovenly manner, and we were glad to proceed on our journey as soon as it was despatched; previously submitting our luggage, &c. to the inspection of the custom-house officers, having now entered the Sardinian territories.

We had not advanced far, ere the country opened, if possible, into an increased blaze of beauty. Close to us were well-wooded mountains; on the left, vineyards trained in the graceful Italian fashion I have lately mentioned; far below us, on the right, was a limpid river, sweetly winding though a valley, and on all sides villas (beautiful in themselves and most romantically situated) lent an additional grace and charm to the scene. The road was a perfect bower of walnut trees; and the attractions of some of the peasant children, whom we now and then met, with their large black eyes, and peculiar style of beauty, told us that we were fast approaching the confines of Italy.

We now ascended a steep winding road, which leads to the summit of a mountain called La Montagne de l'Eschelles. I find it more than ever impossible to give any just and proportionate idea of the enchanting prospects which every moment rose upon our delighted eyes! to conceive them properly, they must be seen. We distinguished paths amid the woody sides of the opposite heights, which looked as lovely as if they led to Paradise; and I longed to spring from the confinement of the carriage, and to explore their wild and exquisitely romantic terminations, although the shades of evening, fast closing upon us, might have rendered such an attempt most perilous. The low parapet wall, erected within the last eight years by that mighty enchanter Napoleon, (who seemed, while his "star was lord of the ascendant," to do all he wished with un coup de baguette), preserved us from the danger of falling down the precipice which yawned by the side of our road; and also completely obviated the sort of nervous sensation which travellers are so apt to feel while gazing upon the awful depths which surround them! Upon turning a sharp angle, the rocks, in vast and stupendous masses, rose perpendicularly above our heads, amidst which we were amazed to perceive several cottages "perched like the eagle's nest, on high." Rousseau has ably painted this incomparable scene, in his Nouvelle Heloise, and I was gratified in thus convincing myself of the accuracy and truth of his pencil. As we passed near these lonely habitations, the breath of the cows belonging to the rustic inmates, mingled sweetly with the scent of the leaves and aromatic herbs, and added new fragrance to the soft and refreshing winds of evening. This wild ravine was succeeded by the milder beauties of a green and mossy bank, rising above smiling meadows; the contrast was striking. These are sights indeed, which might arouse the dullest of mortals, and which make the hearts of those gifted with sensibility and imagination swell high within them!

Echelles, a small town, standing in a valley, completely hemmed in with majestic mountains. We drank our tea and slept here at La Poste, and I sat out, as long as it was prudent, in an open wooden gallery, (which ran round the outside of the house, and commanded a view of the superb scene), talking with the hostess, a cheerful, well-looking young woman, who was overwhelmed by the number of her progeny. The youngest of the children, a little girl of three years old, came up to me and laid her head upon my knees, with the happy ease of innocent confidence, chattering bad French with all her might; the mother also introduced two of her sons to us (boys of five and seven), who ran in to bid her good night before they went to bed, and to hug and kiss her. The youngest (a fine sturdy rogue) told me that he always said his prayers, and that after le bon Dieu, he loved "Maman." This woman, in the midst of her rustic simplicity, had had the true good sense of presenting the Deity to the infant imaginations of her children, under the attractive image of an indulgent parent, thus fulfilling the sacred command of "Give me thine heart." A convent of the Chartreuse still exists in the neighbourhood; I believe it is the famous convent of La Grande Chartreuse, a most interesting spot, but inaccessible to women. I made inquiries about some of the natural productions of these mountains, and learnt that so many superior simples and aromatic plants (Note A) grew there, as to induce the apothecaries and chemists who lived within reach, to come in search of them very frequently.

We left Echelles early the next morning (our common hour of rising being five o'clock), and proceeded through a solitary road, winding at the feet of some desolate-looking mountains. Passing by several deep quarries of limestone, we soon arrived at the tremendous ascent, known under the very appropriate name of Les Eschelles de Savoy. Here we stopped at a lone hovel, to add a couple of oxen to our usual three horses; but these animals being at work at the plough, we were obliged to be satisfied with the assistance of another horse. A girl accordingly brought him out, helped to arrange the traces, &c., and ran by his side half way up the mountain, till we had attained the most arduous pass, and then returned with him to her cottage. She wore her hair gathered in a knot at the back of the head, in the true Italian style. As we toiled along, we observed a paysanne, with a load upon her head (most probably on her early way to some village market), stop to pay her morning devotions at a shrine of the Virgin, rudely carved in wood, and placed in a niche by the road-side. How shall I describe the wonderful manner in which we climbed these frightful eschelles? We seemed to be drawn up by our straining, labouring horses almost in a perpendicular direction, and at a foot's pace. On our left was a yawning chasm of immense magnitude, among a gloomy pile of frowning rocks, which might well be the abode of some ancient giant or geni; while further on, these same rocks, extending their mighty barriers on every side, seemed to hang tremulously over head, threatening to crush the hapless traveller, should sudden wind or storm arise to shake them from their precarious-looking base. The blue heaven above us was nearly shut from our sight by their dark and shadowy projections. Our guides (three or four in number, and resembling, in their wild, strange attire and features, a group of Salvator Rosa's banditti) pointed out to us the ancient road, passable, even in its best days, by mules alone. It was a narrow ledge, with no defence whatever from the precipice on one side, winding in serpentine mazes through deep grottos, or chasms, in the bowels of the mountain. We saw a prodigious monument of Bonaparte's daring genius in a tunnel, which had been cut through the heart of these solid rocks, and beneath which a fine road was to have been made; but his career of power having been so suddenly and awfully checked, the work remains unfinished. After shuddering amid the sublimity of these scenes for some time, their rugged character gradually softened upon us, and the tender green of the fern, mingling richly with the tangled underwood, began to make its welcome appearance. Far above our heads, also, dark forests of lofty pine were occasionally visible, although the lower crags of overhanging rock generally hid them from our view. At length the prospect expanded into verdant pastures (where cows and goats were peacefully browsing), shaded by beech, elm, chestnut, and apple trees, and skirted by softly-swelling banks, covered with a rich and mossy vegetation. The blue smoke wreath, frequently rising above the tufted foliage, marked the vicinity of hamlets, and the little orchards and inclosed patches of well-cultivated garden ground (seen here and there), and the groups of women spinning at their cottage doors, gave the whole an indescribable air of pastoral comfort and beauty. In the midst of this serene enjoyment, my nerves were suddenly discomposed, by the fall of our postillion from his horse, who had stumbled, and now took the opportunity (during his short interval of emancipation) of looking in at the side window of the carriage; the last place certainly in which I either wished or expected to have seen him. However, no harm ensued, and we again proceeded quietly on our way. We could not but remark the extraordinary luxuriance of the hedges here, rich in nut trees, brilliant scarlet berries, convolvulus, blue bells, and other wild plants. The master of the post-house in the midst of these mountains seemed a great admirer of the magnificent genius of Napoleon, and said (speaking of the tunnel we had lately passed), que cet homme la avoit bravè la nature: he added, "that if he had reigned only two years longer, he would have completed this grand undertaking; but now all was at an end; for the king of Sardinia was not the sort of person to carry on the daring plans of his great predecessor." The manner in which this man described Bonaparte to have first conceived and determined upon the work in question was strongly characteristic of the decision peculiar to the latter. He was passing through the ancient horrible road, with his engineer, stopped, and pointing to the mountains, said, "Is it not possible to cut a tunnel through the entrails of yonder rock, and to form a more safe and commodious route beneath it?" – "It is possible, certainly, sire," replied the scientific companion. "Then let it be done, and immediately," rejoined the emperor.