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of other times; and the spectres of war and conquest, fields of carnage and conflagrated cities, victories and triumphs, flitted before me in the visions of the night, as they probably did before the eyes of the ex-emperor, on the eve of his departure from thrones and palaces, to a solitary island of the sea! We rose at day-break the next morning to examine the curiosities of the town of Frejus in season to pursue our journey at an early hour. The only objects worthy of the traveller's attention are its antiquities; and to these a guide conducted us, beginning with the amphitheatre, in form resembling that at Nismes, but of smaller size, less perfect, and in all respects less interesting. It is built of square stones of moderate dimensions, intermingled with tiles. Its walls are yet tolerably entire, but encumbered with weeds and rubbish. From this desolate pile, the scene of vanished gaieties, we walked quite round the ancient ramparts of the city, making a circuit of a mile or two, which must have once enclosed many thousands of inhabitants, now reduced to a handful of villagers. Traces of the walls are at intervals discoverable, and the massive arches of an extensive aqueduct, the uniform appendage of a Roman town, are yet standing.

Pursuing a narrow pathway, which leads through cultivated fields in which fragments of houses and temples have been disinterred, we visited the Golden Gate, which conducted from the port into the town; as also the remains of the ancient pharos and baths, in the same quarter. The head of Jupiter was found among the ruins of the latter, and now adorns an arch near the modern promenade. All these public works indicate wealth, taste, and splendour. The port itself, and the estuary which connected it with the sea, are now entirely filled up with sand, deposited by the little river Argens, which gurgles beneath the old walls. A pretty garden, blooming with a variety of shrubs and flowers, now occupies the very site of the haven, where the Roman mariner moored his ship. The heights on which the town stands command a charming view of the Mediterranean; of the small harbour at the distance of a few miles, whence Napoleon embarked for Elba; of the circular bay sweeping in a bold, graceful curve to the west; and of the hills of St. Tropez which range along the coast.

After breakfast we again set forward towards Nice, with a coach and five horses, which were chartered at a moderate price to take three of us as far as Antibes, A strong team

was required in climbing the pine-clad hills of Lestrelles, which rise to the east of Frejus and continue in broken ridges for many miles. Their barren, desolate sides are uncultivated, and without a house or a human being to break the solitude of the road, which winds in terraces to their summits, disclosing at intervals splendid views of the Alpine region on one side, and of the shores of the editerranean on the other. At length descending from these wilds through deep gorges, and traversing a luxuriant plain watered by the Luton, we reached the little sea-port of Cannes, containing three or four thousand inhabitants. Here Napoleon landed on his return from Elba in 1815, and hence rode in triumph to Paris, with renovated hopes and new schemes of ambition. The town consists of a crescent of white buildings, standing upon the very beach, with a low narrow border of sand between the street and the waves, which would form but a feeble barrier against the storms and tumultuous tides of the Atlantic.

A high rocky promontory, crowned with a dismantled fortress and defended by a small battery, shelters the port, in which some half a dozen vessels were seen riding at anchor, their white flags streaming in the wind. In the offing, the islands of St. Marguerite and St. Honorat elevate their brown ledges above the sea. The former is strongly fortified, constituting an artificial as well as natural defence to the harbour. On this barren rock, the Man of the Iron Mask was confined for many years. The large and commodious hotel at Cannes, stands upon the extreme point of land near the port. Its situation is delightful. The green but gentle swells of the Mediterranean break upon the crags under the very windows, and fill the apartments with their soothing murmurs. To such music we dined upon the products of the neighbouring waters, and after resting an hour or two, left with regret a place possessing so many natural attractions.

Between Cannes and Antibes, the road runs through a rich and beautiful country, at the base of olive-crowned hills, and so close to the margin of the sea, as frequently to require terraces hanging upon the rocks. The same brilliant phenomenon was here observed, as in the complexion of the Sorgia at Vaucluse. To the distance of half a mile from the shore, the water is of such moderate depth, and so perfectly pellucid, as to reflect the party-coloured hues of the bottom, composed of porphyry and lime stone, and presenting at the surface a splendid sheet of mosaic, in which purple,

green, azure, and other colours are fancifully blended. Nothing can exceed the delicacy and softness of its tints, fading gradually into shades which surpass the mimic touches of the pencil.

At 5 o'clock in the afternoon, the towers of Antibes come in sight, and passing through the portals of its high substantial walls, we took lodgings for the night, at an excellent hotel in the centre of the town. Its streets like those of Toulon are filled with troops, forming a strong garrison to guard the frontiers. Our ears were assailed by the din of martial music, and the public squares glittered with military parades. As we passed the long ranges of barracks, injudiciously located in the midst of a dense population, sounds of revelry and riot burst from the rooms, evincing as little decency as discipline.

An hour was occupied in examining the town and harbour. The latter chiefly merits notice, being capacious and unique in its construction; for it is almost entirely the work of art. On two sides it is sheltered from the winds and waves by a mole, fifteen or twenty feet in height, and wide enough at top to form a fine promenade. In the sides of this rampart, substantially built of stone, are long rows of arched niches, four or five feet in depth; and nearly on a level with the water, a wide quay, like that of Marseilles, extends round the basin for the convenience of lading and unlading ships. At the extremity of the mole there is a strong fortress, which effectually commands the narrow entrance of the port. Neither the number nor character of the vessels in the harbour appeared to justify the expense of such a stupendous work.

The situation of Antibes is peculiarly beautiful, and the view from the mole is one of the finest in the South of France, commanding a wide extent of hills, woods, and waters. A rich border of fields, studded with white villages, extends round the head of the bay, across which Nice is seen at the distance of fifteen or twenty miles; and beyond, the Maritime Alps lift their snowy summits to the clouds, while their bold rocky promontories are washed by the sea. last evening in France, (how unlike the inclemencies of the first, on the storm-beaten hills between Calais and Paris!) was mild as summer, and led us to anticipate the delights of that country, the confines of which were now in sight. Early on the following morning, we resumed our journey,

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and soon found ourselves on the frontiers of Italy. To the traveller looking back from this point upon the extent of country he has traversed since crossing the Straits of Dover, France appears what it is in fact, an immense empire, boundless in territory, as it is in resources. Situated in the heart of Europe; blest with a temperate climate and a fertile soil; washed by two great seas, and intersected by many noble rivers, affording peculiar facilities for commerce; embracing a hundred splendid cities; enriched by the works of art; and containing an active population of thirty or forty millions—what might not such a country become with political, civil, and religious institutions free as our own! might it not now have been, had the republican counsels of such statesmen as Foy and La Fayette triumphed over the lawless ambition of Napoleon? or even if the splendid despotism of the latter had not been crushed by the leaden power of a dynasty, possessing neither the talents to be great, nor the virtues to be good? But notwithstanding these drawbacks, no country in the world perhaps, contains a greater variety of interesting objects than France; and after a sojourn of four months, the last foot of its territory was trodden not without feelings of regret, high as were our anticipations of enjoyment in that classic land, which now opened before us.

The transition from one kingdom to the other was not attended by any of those difficulties, expenses, and vexations which travellers sometimes experience. Our passports and trunks underwent a slight examination at the custom-houses on each side of the line, occasioning a delay of fifteen or twenty minutes. The boundary between the two countries is the Var, a broad, shoal river, or more properly the bed of a torrent opening from the Alps. Crossing its long, low, narrow bridge, we entered the dominions of his Sardinian Majesty. The inhabitants upon the frontiers are so assimilated in manners, customs, and language, that few discriminating marks of distinct nations are observable. Straggling guards of short, puny, pale-faced troops, in blue uniform and tight black cloth gaiters, stationed along the road, were the most striking peculiarities which arrested our attention. They looked like a feeble and inefficient race, fit only for the inglorious service in which they are at present employed.

Our entrance into Italy afforded us a favourable specimen of its far-famed climate and splendid scenery. A pure blue sky deepened the azure of a boundless expanse of waters,

spreading towards the south; and the snowy tops of the mountains, glittering in a bright morning sun, presented a striking contrast with their green declivities and with the luxuriant plain which skirts their bases. If Galignani's nightingales did not warble from the rocks, a concert of less poetical though not less melodious birds enlivened the gardens and groves of oranges, which are every where seen =blooming in the environs of Nice.

The town is approached from the west through a long and handsome faubourg, denominated La Croix de Marbre, from the circumstance of a marble cross having been there erected, to commemorate an interview between Charles V. Francis 1. and Pope Paul III. assembled to discuss the affairs of church and state in the 16th century. Long ranges of neat white houses, with Venetian blinds and uniformly surrounded by gardens, line the sides of the street. Here is the principal residence of the swarms of English, sometimes amounting to several thousands, who resort to Nice during the winter, for the sake of the climate and the cheapness of living.

Crossing the bridge of the Paillon, which is little more than an apology for a river, and passing through several of the principal streets, which are well built and exhibit an air of magnificence, we arrived at the Hotel de Yorck, a stately building fronting one of the public squares, and affording excellent accommodations. The apartments are furnished in the English style. Handsome carpets cover the floors, and the wares of Birmingham impart cheerfulness to the hearth.

The whole of this day was busily occupied in rambling over the town, which is a dull place and contains but few works of art, that can interest the traveller. Nature, however, has been lavish of her bounties in contributing to its embellishment. It is delightfully situated at the outlet of a deep, verdant, and romantic valley, opening from the Maritime Alps to the Mediterranean. On the north and east it is surrounded by ranges of mountains, rising to the height of two or three thousand feet, and terminating in the bold promontory of Montalbano, composed of ledges of brown rock and forming one of the boundaries of the bay, which spreads between Nice and Antibes. From the south, the sea rolls in its waves upon the shore, bathing the very foundations of the town. The sides of the neighbouring hills are cultiva

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