than the neighbouring country houses, tells of former times, when Nice was a comtat, and its counts reigned the supreme lords of the adjoining country.

But now, carry your view to the farthest heights, and behold the spreading foot of the tall Alps, the recumbent giant whose vast stature spreads a barrier between the sea coast and the interior. Clouds hang suspended there; and if the cold blast, blowing from the north, sweeps over its top, it falls not on the valleys below, but, darting with the straightness of an arrow, strikes the open sea at a league's length from the shore; and the lounger, as he leans over the balcony of his saloon, wonders at the white surf which troubles the waves in the distance, nor can believe, until his telescope or some vessel under double reefed topsails has assured him of the fact, that the mariner in the offing is struggling with the gale, whilst the smoke of his cigar scarcely varies from the perpendicular.

And this observation calls me back to the city, if it is only to speak of the extreme elegance and commodiousness of the lodging houses, which certainly can vie with, if they do not excel, those of any other place of resort in southern climates. And, my fair countrywomen, whoever ye are who have done, or are doing the duties of housewives at home, before you denounce everything in Continental cities as inferior to the management of your own homes, be not angry if I pledge myself to your sleeping on a sweeter bed in Nice than you will do in your own house. You know that your best beds were bought, when you were married nine years ago, at Hollands: they could not be better! for the feathers were Dantzic whites, the wool of the mattresses Barbary, and the ticking of the finest quality. But then, from that very day to the present not one of them has been emptied and cleaned, and you know that your poor sister died on one of consumption, and your aunt Grace, from whom you have considerable expectations, and who has been for some years exceedingly infirm, has occupied at several periods another. Now, I need not tell you, that disease is no respecter of persons, and infirmity is alien to cleanliness. Can you therefore aver that, in these cases, some corporeal essences will not lodge themselves on such a nest of feathers and flocks? and will you fly in the face of our quarantine lawgivers, who, at the Lazarettoes, rip open very neatly packed bales of cotton and wool, and heartlessly condemn the poor porters to thrust their arms elbow deep into the fleeces, lest the contagion of plague and cholera should have hidden itself there?

This is the doctrine generally held by mistresses and maids throughout France and Italy, and, as the climax of all authorities in reference to my present proofs, at Nice: so that the

summer solstice has scarcely gone by, when, in every court-yard or spacious hall, may be seen the annual gutting of bed and mattress, and the athletic arms of men and women plying their trade in beating out every particle of dust and dirt with switches wielded with the dexterity of a Turkish kawàss administering the bastinado: then may it be seen carried to the running brook to be washed, and spread on the beach or on the meadows to dry. The ticking is washed, the mattress remade, and the new comer feels assured that, so long as he tenants his new lodging, he will lay his head on a sweet pillow. There are lodging houses in Nice, which I could name, where cleanliness is carried to the utmost extent that even fastidiousness could require, and which calls for as much praise as the extreme neglect customary in English houses does for animadversion.

I therefore repeat my first question, whether you have ever been at Nice? If you have not, I advise you to repair there without delay. And do not think that you should lightly treat this urgency to hurry you there. You may fancy that Nice is accessible at all times-just when you like-next autumn at the long vacation, or after parliament is closed. But you are mistaken. There is the Var to cross, a nasty, ill-conditioned river, sometimes high and sometimes low, with a ricketty bridge over it, that breaks down from the bumping it gets from loose spars of wood and long firs lopped of their branches, which swim away from their moorings when rains are heavy and you might have to wait a day or two on its banks, even if you travelled with four horses and a courier. Moreover, the cholera may reappear in a short time, seeing that the devil is at work, and may not think that we have had enough amusement in Irish famine, city failures, and Spanish marriages; and then the bridge over the Var becomes a cul-de-sac, has "No Thoroughfare" written up in large letters, and you might as well attempt to cross it as to get access to F. M. the D. of W., or make Joseph Ady suppress his circulars. You may fancy, perhaps, that I am joking; but it is no such thing; and greater men than you and myself have been stopped on the middle plank of the bridge; for, let me remind you again, it is a wooden one. To such an accident does the village of Cannes owe its present renown; and, but for the cholera and the sentry on the Var bridge, my Lord Brougham and the late member for Westminster had probably never been neighbours, certainly, the former would never have built a chateau at Cannes.

It was late in the afternoon of a fine day in the autumn, about fifteen years ago, that his lordship reached the centre of the bridge which separates the territory of France from that of Charles Albert, king of Piedmont. The postillions made a

sudden stop, and his lordship, with a convulsive twist of that cartilaginous process or protuberance so powerfully susceptible of inflation in steeds of high mettle, thrust his head out of the window, and demanded what was the matter. A soldier in uniform informed him that his majesty the king had established a cordon of troops to prevent ingress to his dominions, because the cholera reigned at Toulon and Marseilles, which rendered him very desirous of keeping out so dangerous a visitor. The noble Lord Brougham thought such a caution was highly commendable; but having had satisfactory proofs that very morning of the non-existence of so dangerous a malady in his own. person, he flattered himself that some exemption from the edict might be made in his favour (more especially as he was not at all desirous of being turned back into the very focus of the epidemic), and he accordingly sent for the officer of the guard, and begged him to suffer him to pass. This the officer refused; upon which Lord Brougham suggested the propriety of forwarding a messenger to the governor of Nice, acquainting him who he was, and signifying that they should "make way" for the Lord Chancellor of England. All was in vain; the governor (Mario's father, by the by) was as inexorable as the officer, and his lordship's carriage, now half way on the bridge, had to be drawn backwards until it reached terra firma, when his lordship made an excellent speech from the window to the assembled people in very good patois, and then gave orders to be taken to the nearest town where he could be comfortably lodged. It was in the "Strangers' Book" of that hotel, that some English traveller recorded these facts, and in verse, which I would willingly transcribe, did I not fear to be too prolix. I shall content myself, therefore, with merely copying the threats which his lordship very properly vented at the bridge foot against such uncalled-for disrespect, a passage where the author seems to have warmed himself into enthusiam in his hero's cause: it runs as follows:—

"Twas there I met the peer, morose and glum,

Who just repulsed, had from the frontiers come.
Methinks I see him standing at the Var,
Exclaiming "Fellow! know'st thou who we are?
Go, tell thy master he shall pay most dear,
If he delays us but a moment here.

We are the Chancellor, Lord Brougham and Vaux,
And shall we tremble at a sentry-box?

We, who have called e'en Sugden's self a worm :—
We, who as pompous Sutton can affirm,

When Canning said we lied, across the floor

Walked in defiance almost to the door.
No! if our benefactors we forget,

And treat Ben Smith as one we never met,
Or if we leave the Charities in tears,
(For such low work is troublesome to peers),
Insults on us shal. be in memory stored,
And we'll submit it to the Council Board.
Now, by our woolsack, 'tis a pretty thing!
This very night we'll write it to the King:
And on our wig may yellow Lambton spit,
If e'er Charles Albert hears the last of it."

Whether the cholera will again terrify the Sardinian monarch by a second formidable invasion, or create such another episode as the one narrated, it is not possible to decide; but through all such difficulties, should health or pleasure induce you to venture from home for a season, be assured, at no place, for one or the other cause, can you so usefully pass your time as there. Hygæia, indeed, seems to have fixed her principal temple in Nice, although I am aware she has several in other favoured localities. But when you reflect on the advantages which the position of this city presents, it seems impossible not to give it the preference.

The physicians of the last century were accustomed to send consumptive patients to Montpellier and Marseilles for a mild climate. Experience, however, soon taught the sufferers and those who accompanied them, that there prevailed in the south of France a wind of frequent occurrence in the winter months, the chilling blasts of which more than counterbalanced the good effects of a warm sun; and the vicissitudes of heat and cold, as the patient turned the corner of a street, or changed from the sunny to the shady side, were found to be so prejudicial to delicate invalids, that, although a few, sent by medical practitioners of the old school, repaired thither at the close of the Buonaparte war in 1815, it was soon found that more equable climates must be sought for, if the cure of incipient phthisis were really not an illusory hope. Succeeding invalids accordingly repaired to Hyères; because, as orange trees flourished there in the open air, tubercles must necessarily be dissipated by its purifying properties. But it was discovered that the Mistral or cold wind from the gulph of Lyons reached this spot also, and it was found necessary to retreat before it, until, passing the Estarelle mountains, a chain which may be considered as the south-west spur of the Low Alps, the invalid found the calm, warm and genial spot which his tender frame had hitherto in vain sought for.

The bay of Nice is formed by two horns or projecting headlands, which, advancing far beyond the line of the intermediate and concave shore, produce a phenomenon rarely to be met with along a sea coast. Let the curious observer place himself on the terrace, or favourite promenade of the Nizards (so the inhabitants are called, or more properly, Nicois), and looking now towards the lighthouse of Villa Franca to the south-east, then towards Antibes to the south-west, he will behold the extraordinary appearance of ships coming in sight from the two opposite directions, with a cap full of wind blowing from directly opposite quarters. Watching them as they advance, he will observe that they both get becalmed little by little, until their sails flap loosely on the masts; and there they lie, unable to proceed any farther; when, at the close of day, the land breeze springs up, and each has disappeared before morning to its opposed destination. Here is the explanation. The Mistral, or north-west wind, blows very constantly over the Gulf of Lyons, and brings vessels on their course eastward, until they round the head-land jutting from the Estarel chain, between Frejus and Antibes, which has so completely intercepted its cold and always chilling blast, that a dead calm prevails inside of it. In the opposite gulf, which is that of Genoa, the east wind most often reigns. But when it has brought vessels as far as the headland of Villa Franca, it is stopped there, and becomes powerless Midway between these two points stands Nice, and the sky overhead and in front, cloudless and calm, seems to say-Here the contending Eurus and Aquilo have met and have spent their force. The sweet South has lulled them into repose, and mortals have nothing to fear from their impetuous anger.

I mentioned the terrace a few lines back: this terrace deserves a passing notice. Facing the sea-side, in the very centre of the town, there is a row of arches of about a quarter of a mile in length, surmounted by a level roof, with a low parapet on either hand, where, by means of a compact cement of mortar and fine gravel, has been formed a walk, and where, several feet above the level of the beach, the Nizàrds, at the close of their hot days, resort to catch the sea-breeze. Benches at convenient intervals line its sides, and here may be seen the fashionable and unfashionable residents, mingling in a crowd, with very few signs of exclusive pride on one part, or servile respect on the other. It is the viaduct from one extremity of the city to the other, and might be happily imitated in some of our watering-places, or even in the metropolis, with most beneficial effects. Neither carts nor carriages, barrows nor baskets, impede the way. No cross-roads intersect it; no