which our courier is now busily examining. The road as far as this town is remarkably good, and bears the indelible mark of him who planned it :boldly designed and solidly executed, with a disregard of difficulties or a complete triumph over them, it reminds one of that daring man who said that he disbelieved in impossibilities. The dimensions of the road are on a grand scale:-rocks, valleys, and mountains, seem to have been no impediment to his scheme; the first were perforated, blown, or pulverized; the second spanned by a bold arch; and the third levelled, to carry his purpose into effect. Yes, Napoleon was the best of modern roadmakers, and surpassed even the Romans in this respect; for his roads are monuments, as well as admirable means of communication -the sinews of commerce and civilization. After two or three miles we passed behind Villa Franca, and the bay broke on us in all its beauty. The fanal, or light-house, seen from this point has a very fine effect. The road winds along, forming a cornice on the ledge of the rocks, and seldom, and but for short intervals, losing a view of the sea.

An hospital erected on a steep rock, with two other rocks near but not joined, constitutes a very striking feature in the scenery; and the chain of vast rocks which form the boundary of the sea, that dashes against their base covering them with foam, has a magnificent effect. The village of La Turbie is the next object that attracts the attention; but before reaching it a fragment of an ancient building is passed, called the Chapel of St. Catherine. It consists but of a few feet of a wall, covered with paintings illus

trative of the life of the saint from whom it takes its name; and which, though ill drawn, are not destitute of grace and expression. The line of road passed direct through this chapel, leaving the fragments we noticed alone standing. The coachman who drove us pointed to it, shook his head, and after a moment's silence remarked, that it was not wonderful that such an act of sacrilege brought a heavy punishment on its perpetrator. "The saints," continued he-and he crossed himself as he spoke-" are not to be insulted with impunity."

One of the most picturesque ruins imaginable crowns La Turbie. We longed to learn something of its history; but those we questioned could give us no information, except that which our eyes conveyed, and which the stupid man stationed at the custom-house pompously repeated-" That it was a very fine and ancient ruin well worthy the attention of travellers." This he reiterated with an air of as much self-complacency as if he had given us the most interesting details. This ruin stands on an eminence which commands all those around it, and can be seen from the sea at a great distance; which leads one to believe that it was a fanal, or light-house. It must have been on a grand scale, and is of Roman workmanship.

Soon after leaving La Turbie we caught a view of the village of Monaco, which stands on a sort of cape that advances into the sea. At a distance it looks like a town built for children; and its pigmy white houses peeping out from groves of olive, orange, and lemon trees, have a beautiful appearance. The climate

becomes still milder as we advance, and the vegetation proves its warmth, being far more forward than at Nice, and infinitely more luxuriant in its growth. The arbutus and carubia flourish here, and mingled with the olive, orange, and lemon trees, which lift their heads through the rich foliage that surrounds them, clothe the very rocks with their verdure. Terraces surmounting terraces are by the industry of the peasants brought into cultivation; soil is conveyed to these terraces, which are formed on the ledges of rocks; and, aided by the fertility of the clime, they yield an abundant harvest. At each step some new and attractive view fills the traveller with admiration, and begets the desire of fixing on some one of the various beautiful sights for a residence, where, “the world forgetting, by the world forgot," existence might glide tranquilly and sweetly away. Numberless pretty fountains are erected on the route, and tasteful and well-constructed bridges span the ravines.

We passed near to a village named Roque Brune, built in the midst of a pile of rocks, with which the houses are so mingled that they appear one mass; except where, as in many instances, the rocks are covered with plants and aloes, which produce the most picturesque effect.

We arrived at Mentone delighted with our first day's journey, which for beauty of scenery is unrivalled. The abundance and luxuriant growth of the trees, the genial warmth of the climate, the magnificent views, and the blue Mediterranean, render the route of the Cornice the one that all who love nature must prefer. Near the entrance to Mentone stands the Château

Monaco, which was nearly dilapidated in the revolution. The new road of the Cornice passes through the court-yard of this château, where, as our guide told us, the grand manège once stood, entirely doing away with its privacy. A fine collection of pictures and statues once ornamented this abode, but they were mutilated or totally destroyed. Even the gardens, which were rich in rare plants and shrubs, were devastated, and nothing left to indicate their former beauty, but the orange and lemon trees, which flourish so abundantly here. The Prince of Monaco has commenced repairing the house; and, with a true foreign taste, has begun by regilding the ceilings and cornices of the apartments, before the essential repairs have been accomplished. The basins, which formerly supplied the water-works which were wont to be displayed on fête-days for the amusement of the rustic neighbours, are now overgrown with rank weeds and filled with frogs, whose croaking notes are heard at a considerable distance, and add to the gloomy feelings which the sight of this ruined abode are so calculated to engender. Revolutions may always be traced by the ruin and devastation they leave behind. How many residences, once splendid and filled with works of art, are to be seen in France in a state of utter ruin! How many hills, once covered by woods, are now bare and desolate ! The entire face of vast districts is wholly disfigured by the reckless hordes who, emancipated by the revolution, spread their work of destruction far and wide. It is only in dear, happy England, that we escape such sights; and thankful should we be for the blessed exemption !

Mentone is a town of considerable extent; its quay is large, but has more the appearance of an esplanade than of a structure intended for the purposes to which it is devoted. The houses that occupy one side of it are composed of stone, and are seven and eight stories high. Above these rise others built on the rocky eminence which forms the centre of the town; and the cathedral, with two or three other churches, painted in rich and varied colours, crown the whole. Among the churches are scattered high palm trees, whose pictnresque forms and dark foliage come out in bold relief against the cloudless sky, and give the picture a moresque and striking character. The view from the cathedral is magnificent both of land and sea; but I turned from the former, with all its rich and diversified hues, to behold the beautiful Mediterranean, blue as the heavens that canopy it, and dotted with white sails, which in the distance look like birds cleaving the air. We ascended to the topmost towers of the cathedral, our cicerone having, and with reason, vaunted the view it commands; but he did not inform us that this tower was the belfry, and that the hour for tolling the enormous bell was fast approaching. We were descending the spiral staircase, delighted with the prospect we had beheld, when this terrible bell was put in motion. Never shall I forget its effect! The senses were stunned, and the power of hearing seemed a malediction! The tower rocked to each movement of its heavy and noisy guest, and vibrated to the deafening peals it sent forth; while we felt overpowered by the tremendous clamour, and rendered giddy by the movements of the building, of which each fresh peal made