We next visited the building allotted to the Galleriens, and were gratified by observing that the captivity of these wretched beings was rendered less disagreeable by their having the benefit of cleanliness and good air. Their dormitories are of large dimensions and are arranged in rows, the bedding clean and white; but our humanity was not a little shocked at beholding the large staples attached to the foot of each bed for fastening the chains of the convicts, so that even in sleep they feel the galling fetters of slavery. The great number of these unhappy men are linked in couples; those sentenced for life are distinguished by green cloth caps, and the whole are dressed in a brickcoloured cloth. It not unfrequently occurs that those paired, but not mated couples, quarrel and proceed to personal violence; in which case, they are treated as refractory dogs would be under similar circumstances.

Those who have any trade are allowed to practise it, provided their conduct is found deserving of this indulgence; and we saw several ingenious toys and trinkets, the produce of their industry, by the sale of which they earn a considerable sum. Those who have not been brought up to any trade are employed in laborious occupations.

The celebrated Comte de St. Helene is among the convicts, and shrinks from observation with a sensitiveness that precludes the indulgence of curiosity— at least in every humane person. Another individual was pointed out to us as having acquired an unenviable celebrity by his crimes. The appearance and manners of this convict were those of a gentleman, not

withstanding the hideous dress he wore. He was employed in engraving a cocoa-nut, and displayed great taste and skill in the execution of his task, and presented it for our inspection with a grace that would not have shamed a finished courtier. This man once possessed a large fortune and had been mayor of Dijon. His wife had great wealth independent of him, and he sought every means to induce her to resign it in his favour. She resisted all his entreaties and threats, and was shortly after found dead in her apartment, with her feet and legs scorched. The body bore the marks of strangulation as also of fire; for the assassin had attempted to consume the corse, in order that it might be believed that she had been accidentally burned, but all his efforts to ignite the body were fruitless. He was taken up on suspicion of the murder; and though the proofs of his guilt were not sufficiently strong to convict him to death, they were deemed conclusive enough to draw on him a sentence of condemnation to the galleys for life. This man's countenance would have puzzled Gall and Spurzheim, so calm and benevolent was its character. One cannot help wishing that crime had fixed an indelible stamp on the physiognomies of those who so cruelly violate the laws of humanity, to serve either as a beacon to warn us of danger, or else as a visible sign of that internal torture which we would fain believe must spring from the commission of guilt. It is revolting to witness the calmness that should only accompany conscious innocence marked on the front of guilt and vice. When remorse or its effects are visible, we

forget the sternness of justice in commiseration for the criminal; but when obduracy or indifference are evident, disgust and horror alone prevail.

A large hall is filled with convicts, who are employed in hackling and dressing flax and hemp; another apartment contains some two or three hundred spinners, who use wheels similar to those common in Ireland; and in another hall are looms, at which several hands are employed. A tread-mill is also established here, turned by three men, who are changed every three hours.

The salle des armes, or armoury, was the next object that attracted our attention. The arms are arranged in three parallel lines, the centre wide, with a less at each side. In the middle of the interior line is a highly ornamented pedestal, on which stands a finely executed marble bust of Louis XVIII., surrounded by military trophies formed by swords and bayonets diverging into rays, the whole surmounted by white flags richly embroidered. At the end is a large figure of Bellona richly habited, and at the other terminations are figures in fine armour. The arms in this room are as bright as silver, and the effect of the whole is very brilliant.

The timber-yard and forges are on a large scale, but immeasurably inferior to those at Portsmouth. The corderie, or rope-walk, surpassed our expectations. It is built of stone, and is constructed in three parallel lines, divided by pillars that support the roof, which is arched and groined. This room, if room it may be called, is above two thousand feet in length, and people seen from one extremity of it at the other have

the appearance of puppets. This building was planned by Vauban, and does credit to his skill as an architect. We were shown the process by which cables are manufactured, as also the voilerie in which the sails for ships are made. The forges and joiners' shops next claimed our attention: they are on an extensive scale and good order prevails over each. We then visited the magazine, the various contents of which are arranged with an exactness that precludes the possibility of mistake or confusion. The dock is about three hundred feet long and one hundred wide; in front is a sluice-gate, which may be opened or shut as required; and at the back is a building containing a vast number of pumps. By the sluice-gate the basin is filled with water when ships require admission into it, and by the pumps it is emptied when they stand in need of repair.

28th.-We saw eight very fine ships of one hundred and twenty guns each, and several ones of a less calibre. We went on board one of the first mentioned, named Le Royal Louis, a very magnificent vessel, at least as far as decoration is concerned. It strikes me that the whole of the arsenal, as well as the ships, have a pretension to ultra good order about them, which indicates that the navy with our Gallic neighbours is as yet but an affair of luxury, while with us there is much less display but infinitely more utility.

The Duchesse de Berri came to France in this ship, which was splendidly furnished for the occasion; and the gallery that surrounds the state cabin, which she occupied, was filled with the rarest flowering shrubs

and exotics. Little could she have anticipated the melancholy event that awaited her! but happily the book of Fate is sealed, or few even of the most prosperous could support the anticipated knowledge of their destinies. Providence has mercifully so constituted us, that our minds adapt themselves to calamities, because our sensibility of their poignancy is dulled by some mitigating circumstance attending them, and by the previous experience of minor afflictions. But although the gradation of suffering may inure, or enable us to bear them, an aggregate view of the misfortunes all are born to undergo would be more than humanity could support. The Bourbons, like the Stuarts, seem fated to many trials. Heaven send they may have more wisdom to profit by them! Misfortune should teach us to avoid every road that

may lead to its portals, and I trust Louis XVIII. has acquired this wisdom.

Toulon is indebted to Louis XII. for its origin as a harbour, and to Francis I. for the completion of the tower commenced by Louis. Henry IV. fortified the town, but Louis XIV. has been its greatest benefactor, for to him it owes all the various works that now enrich it. Napoleon also was among the patrons of Toulon; for, grateful for the fame acquired here in early manhood, he planned and caused to be erected a fortification that attests his skill as an engineer. The climate is much milder than at Marseilles, and many curious plants are indigenous to the soil; delicate exotics, too, which in other parts of the south of France gardeners have failed in rearing, here flourish. The botanical garden, though not