2

CHOICE OF COUNTRY.

never travelled.' Travel, therefore, being decided on,

One consideration
This was my re-

the question was-where to go? happily narrowed the difficulties. solve to wander on the Continent. Not that I dislike my own country. Far, very far, from this. There is scarcely a scene of beauty in England, Ireland, and Scotland, which I have not visited; nor was it until I had done so, that I sought for more communings with nature in other lands. Among the many advantages derivable from selecting the Continent for a tour, not the least is, that it takes a man away from epistolary intrusions. And in these days, when the fingers of the postman are scarcely ever off your knocker from early foggy morn to smoky London eve,-not to mention the charm of a telegraphic message coming upon you at supernatural hours,-I should like to know how it is possible to cast off the cares of business with these penny plagues drumming away at your mind all day long.

I remember reading an announcement of the London and Brighton Railway Company, offering to convey the mails ten times daily to Brighton without cost to government-the Company expecting to be amply remunerated by carrying merchants and others on their line who would, with such plaguey prospects before them, select Brighton as a happy, peaceful place to abide in during the summer months. Well, there is no accounting for taste. There are those to whom the face of nature is a blank-who, without that perpetual boiling excitement which is only to be

found in great cities, are miserable, and to whose quick bosoms, quiet, as Byron says, is a hell. With all such I differ entirely, and perhaps it may be as well to tell them here, on the threshold as it were, if they contemplate following me, that they will find me leading them more amongst

The pomp of groves and garniture of fields,

than into crowded cities and towns.

The Continent, then, being resolved on, the next consideration was, seeing that it is a large word, what part of it should be selected for my wanderings.

Extending before me a large comprehensive map of Europe, on which I had traced my previous tours, I saw that within the time at my disposal not much new ground remained for me to break. There were portions of countries in which I had not travelled, which I desired to see; but although they presented the same physical features which they did half a dozen years ago, their people were in a state of active fermentation, which bade fair to make journeying among them far from agreeable.

Delirant reges, plectuntur Achivi,

says Horace, and I had no ambition to be mingled with the Greeks, or people who might come in for unmerited punishment. I was all for peace and tranquillity; and however entertaining and exciting it might be to read at home of the glorious struggles of oppressed nations to obtain freedom, I felt no inclination whatever to be in at the death of oppressors, or

the shooting of patriots. It may appear strange that with these feelings, choice should have been made of France, a country, as all the world knows, famous for its anti-pacific tendencies. But I regarded the people in a meteorological aspect, arguing that, as a natural storm is succeeded by a calm, so their late little ebullition of feeling would, in all human probability, be followed by temporary repose and tranquillity. Much of France was already known to me, but there was a portion of it which I had often intended to visit, but had always been prevented by unforeseen circumstances. This was Auvergne, a country possessing great interest to the lover of beautiful scenery, as well as to the geologist; and I said, if the inhabitants of that province remain, during the period of my visit, as quiet as their extinct volcanos, few obstacles will arise to impede free locomotion. So Auvergne was decided on, as the more immediate object of the Tour; but sundry longing glances were cast at the glorious province of Dauphiné, mercilessly shorn of its euphonious name since the revolution of 1792, and now forming the three departments of Isère, Drôme, and Hautes Alpes. There are giants in that land, whose heads are white with the snow of ages-mountains, in other words, rising in bold and successful rivalry to Alpine elevations. I felt, looking at them even on the cold, flat map, that they were full of magnetical attraction for the tourist, so I indulged in day-dreams that I might be enabled to visit them, climb some of their

TRAVELLING ARRANGEMENTS.

5

rugged sides, and repose in the cool shade beneath their engirdling forests. Then Piedmont seemed but a step removed; and, being there, the eye was lured insensibly over the Graian Alps into Savoy, where the wanderer, as I well knew, finds—

Health in the breeze, and freshness in the gale.

It will be seen in the sequel how far these hopes were realized. With the strong conviction, based on the experience of much travel, that the chances of smoothly gliding from place to place are greatly augmented in proportion to the smallness of the impedimenta which a tourist carries with him, my baggage was filed down to the limits of a portmanteau, capable, however, of being expanded (for luggage, like an avalanche, is wonderfully apt to swell in importance as it travels), and a knapsack, an old and valued companion during many Alpine excursions, and one that has stuck to my back as the truest friend through many a trying day.

Having made other little travelling arrangements, I was ready to start. But in the exercise of that glorious liberty which la belle France especially prides herself in, the new Republic decreed, as in the ancient kingly days, that no one would be suffered to travel in their country without a passport, and doubtless, with a particular desire to show the true meaning, according to their Republican ideas, of the ubiquitous national motto, they further decreed that five shillings was to be paid by each person

desirous of spending his money in their territory.* Now, in the olden time this tax would not have been so much grudged by Englishmen, who happily yet drain the cup to the loyal chorus-God save the Queen!-for then the French passport was headed in imposing characters,—

AU NOM DU ROI,

and was followed by the words "Nous, Ambassadeur Extraordinaire et Plenipotentiaire, de Sa Majesté le Roi des Français près Sa Majesté Britannique, &c. Prions les Autorités Civiles et Militaires chargées de la Police Interieure du Royaume, et de tous les Pays Amis ou Alliés de la France, de laisser passer librement," &c. &c. It was gratifying to be thus taken under the protection of a great ambassador, who, by signing his name at the bottom of the broad sheet, gave evidence of the sincerity of his prayer. And all this was given gratis. Now look on this picture.

' RÉPUBLIQUE FRANÇAISE.

'Au nom du Peuple Français.

'Nous, Consul-Général de France en Angleterre, Prions les Officiers Civiles et Militaires de laisser passer,' &c. Here truly is a falling off-in place of

* Recent events lead to the hope that passports will ere long be entirely abolished in France. Already some of the severe restrictions imposed by them have been abrogated.