shawled as I am, maugre one of Teresa Tidy's 'eighteen excellent maxims,' till you shall have dismissed Madame to her luncheon."

But, alas! Madame might as well, as she repeatedly exclaimed, have remained at Spaleborough, for any advancement that was made that day in the French language. Her scholar looked "si distrait," and directed her eyes so continually towards the door, that her attention was ever and anon obliged to be called home by such morsels of broken English as the following:

"Ah! Misse Gertrude! what was the best at all of all mes elèves; sur quel herbe avez vous marché ce matin ?" "Encore!

ce vilaine porte! I must have for you-qu'est que c'est vat you put to de staring horses, when dey look surprise at de stones? Oui, des blinquers, you must have des blinquers." But with all these lookings, Helen came not.

Among those who are 'in bondage to skyey influences,' I am thankful to say I am not. I should think few could resist the glad inspiration of a bright, dry, autumnal walk. It always reminds me, as I bowl along, of Cowper's room on springs. You are constrained to bound and dance in joyous measure, whether you will or no. Then you may talk of your leafy groves, and throngs of warbling birds; but give me a fine old half-leafless tree, standing out with picturesque distinctness against the mottled sky, and a solitary robin looking down on me from one of its drooping branches, and warbling, as for my express amusement, his sweet muffled requiem to the departed summer. All this, I confess, is far too romantic for one of the "getting uppish" class; much more in character will be the citation from Addison, which Aunt Nelly once induced me to learn by heart, and which I repeated to the young companions of my walk; and with which-the 'Spectator' having, alas! become almost an obsolete book-I may as well conclude my paper, trusting that its solid contents will atone for the frivolous matter which precedes it.

"I know but of one way of fortifying my soul against these" (superstitious fancies) " and terrors of mind, and that is by securing to myself the friendship of that Being, Who disposes of events and governs futurity. He sees at one view the whole thread of my existence; not only that part of it which I have already passed through, but that which runs forward into all the depths of eternity. When I lay myself down to sleep, I recommend myself to His care; when I awake, I give myself up to His direction."*

*Spectator, vol. i. p. 34.

THE LITTLE WOODLAND GLEANER.

"ART thou weary, Dove Annette? say, hast thou been roaming far, Seeking flowers fresh and wild, watching for the evening star? Heavily thy basket weighs, 'tis a cruel load for thee;

Shades of night are stealing o'er; thou at home, fair child, shouldst be."

Dove Annette laughed merrily as she oped her basket lid,

There no hyacinthine bells or sweet eglantine was hid;
Pine-cones and fallen leaves, and slender twigs were gathered there,
Far more precious these to her than the woodland treasures rare.

"My old grandam she is cold, for the autumn nights are chill,
So I search the golden woods over dale and over hill;

Sticks, leaves, and cones together make a warm and blazing fire;
Shame 'twould be if Dove Annette on this errand e'er could tire!

"My old grandam she is blind, but our scholars are a score,
And she tells them how to spell, and the blessed Bible lore.
At A B C I toil all day; alas! they are not quick to learn!
Little 'tis that we are paid-poor the living that we earn.

"Forest glades are dusk and drear, save when pretty deer skip by ;
Evening stars I cannot see, trees arch over-head so high.
Safely sleep the birds around-He Who numbers them each one,
Cares, I know, for Dove Annette in the wild wood all alone.

"So I fill my basket full-sure it is a heavy load,

But I sing a pleasant song all along my homeward road;
And within our cabin walls, gleaming with the ruddy blaze,
Grandam teaches Dove Annette hymns of thankfulness and praise."

C. A. M. W.

CONTINENTAL RAMBLES.-LETTER III.

MY DEAR

We left Bourdeaux on the 28th June, at four o'clock, A.M., in a steam-boat, which goes daily to Langon up the Garonne, and it was a pleasant commencement of our journey. At this place we were transferred to the intérieure of a diligence, the coupée being occupied; but we had very pleasant travelling companions, a French lady, with two daughters, a little boy, and a pretty nurse-maid. Our journey lay through the Landes, and was exceedingly uninteresting, with nothing more picturesque than a furze-bush. We were told, however, that the country would improve after we had reached Mount S. Marsan, but within a league of that place one of our wheels caught fire, and we were obliged to proceed at a snail's pace, smoking, and burning, and nearly stifled. When at last we reached the town, we had to wait three hours, whilst a new box was manufactured. We perambulated the town as long as day-light lasted, and then had some chairs brought out into the street, and sat patiently waiting the

arrival of our vehicle. We saw no more of the country, but got on comfortably through the night. The first thing in the morning, however, the smell of smoke again roused us, and again we were obliged to stop another hour and quench the fire, and allow the wheel time to cool. Fortunately a stream of water was at hand. The only result of these disasters, however, was that instead of arriving at Pau at three o'clock, we did not reach till eight, a very much more convenient time.

We established ourselves at an hotel, breakfasted, dressed, and as it was Sunday, and there was an English service, we proceeded to attend it. We found about forty English, in a chapel appropriated to their use. In the evening, we attended vespers at one of the Roman Catholic churches; after the usual service followed what I believe is termed a Chapelet,-the Litany of the Virgin, then the Litany of the Saints, if it may be so called. It was recited in the pulpit, round which a large congregation gathered, and responded extremely heartily "ainsi soit il," "Ora pro nobis." In fact, to our shame be it said, there was far more life, and at least apparent devotion in this service, than in the one we had attended in the morning.

Pau presents nothing worthy of notice in itself. The market is curious from the variety of costume and babel of tongues; the Patois of Berne, of Bigorre,-Spanish, French, and Basque. The Chateau is interesting, and was undergoing a thorough restoration under the direction of Louis Philippe; the tapestry is the finest I ever saw considering its age, which dates back to the time of Francis I., and is as fresh as if put up to-day. They show many curiosities here, in the shape of coffers, &c., said to have belonged to Gaston de Foix and Godfrey de Bouillon; and what they value as much as anything, the cradle of Henri IV., which is composed of a huge tortoise-shell.

If the town itself is not handsome, the views from it are magnificent; the pretty little Gave flowing at its foot, a rich country dotted with woods, villages, and vineyards, with a middle ground of wooded heights, and the range of Pyrenees to back and crown the whole-very, very fine. Still we think it is not to be compared to Alpine scenery. The latitude being further south, the mountains, though their average height is greater than the Alps, are clothed with herbage nearer their summits; their forms also are less picturesque, a series of undulations of nearly equal height, that height being on an average, it is true, 9,000 feet, whereas the majority of the Alps only average 7,000. But the latter have some grand giants, who hold their heads so much above the others, to the elevation of 13 or 14,000 feet, and Mont Blanc 15,000, that there is a much better idea of height conveyed to the mind. We miss also the glacier's crystal peaks of bluish white; the snow looks newly fallen, and lies about the tops of the moun

tains in stripes and patches. Of course this is the delusion of a distant view, and we found them large fields when we afterwards traversed them, but the effect is consequently much diminished.

On the 1st of July, having been fortunate enough to secure the coupée, we left Pau for Eaux Bonnes. It was a brilliant day, not too hot, and with little dust, and the journey of twenty miles was most enjoyable. You may suppose at how slow a pace we travelled, when I tell you that we were six hours on our road, with six horses, but we were well pleased to linger on such a route. On our left, (except here and there where a wind in the road threw it on our right,) rippled and sparkled the pretty little river Neiss, reminding us very much of the Dart in Devonshire, with its high banks fringed with underwood. Up hill all the way, our view bounded by the Pyrenean Chain. After a time, the valley widens out on each side into a rich plain encircled by an amphitheatre of mountains, the Pic du Midi d'Ossan terminating the view immediately before us all the journey, which was up, up, up, till we almost seemed to have reached the summit of the mountains. At last in a little hollow we found Eaux Bonnes, made up of hotels, and promenades, and paths all up the mountain sides, and no way of getting out again, except by scaling the mountains, and so down into Spain, or back again to Pau.

Our fellowv-passengers were mostly coming here to drink the waters. Four were Priests, they were a more gentlemanly and intelligent set than we had encountered before. They paused in their conversation, to recite the hours at the appointed times. We found our bed-rooms somewhat indifferent at our hotel, but there was a handsome drawing-room, with a grand piano, and every accommodation for the guests, of whom there were about thirty-two, (at least that was the number assembled at dinner,) Spaniards, French, even Russians, ourselves the only English.

This is quite a fashionable place of resort in France, but little frequented by our own countrymen. The waters are said to be very efficacious in complaints of the throat and chest, but it is kill or cure, and they are also very healing in cases of gun-shot wounds. But I must now describe to you a little of the scenery about us. On Wednesday the 2nd we hired horses, which are to be had here for three francs a-day. Both the animals and roads are excellent, so that horse exercise is much in vogue, and for the first time out of England, I saw ladies riding in habits and hats (wide awakes,) which are very much more becoming than the beaver, and of course more comfortable. But to return, our expedition today was to Gabare by way of Eaux-chaudes, a rival spa. We descended for about two and a quarter miles by the same route we had reached Eaux Bonnes, then turned up abruptly and almost precipitously. After that for six miles travelled along a fine road, cut in the mountain side, (it may be called rather a gorge than

a valley,) hemmed in on each side by lofty precipices, wooded with pine and box. Below is a furious and deafening torrent, all foam and froth, throwing up a cloud of spray and receiving tribute from sundry other torrents, which, rushing down the mountain's side, and seen here and there through the dark masses of pine, furnish a wild and magnificent scene. We put up our horses at Gabare, and walked on about a league further up the pass, to the foot of the Pic du Midi. The ascent of this mountain is rarely attempted. This year the falls of snow have been so heavy as to make it impracticable, but parties occasionally venture. The Duc de Montpensier with a party of thirty, including a botanist of some note, who resides at Eaux Bonnes, and picked up his first knowledge of plants as a shepherd, made the ascent a few years since.

I should have mentioned that Eaux Chaudes which we passed' on our way, though far surpassing its rival in situation, was very inferior in life and animation : we scarcely saw any one moving about, whereas here every body is out of doors all day long, sitting in what they call gardens, much like an English tea-garden. The day was hot, and we were very tired, but still laid our plans for another expedition on the morrow. So we were up at five, and furnished with a guide and provisions, commenced the ascent of the Gers. The path is not dangerous, except that we had occasionally to cross beds of snow, which sloped from top to bottom of the mountain, and on which a slip would certainly have been awkward. Our guide, however, seemed the only one of the party who made any account of the peril, perhaps because he knew most about it.

Arrived as high as he thought it prudent to proceed, we sat down on the mountain side to eat our well-earned breakfast, of chicken, eggs, bread, and wine. Refreshed with food and rest, some of the party felt adventurous, and proceeded to the summit, which presented nothing but a sheet of snow, with here and there a solitary rock standing out in dark relief. I was right glad I had remained where I was, for they were met with such a hurricane on the summit as to be obliged to throw themselves flat on their faces, and hold by the rocks. Their pockets were blown inside out, and the contents, or rather a portion of them, only with some difficulty saved.

In the meantime I enjoyed my wild solitary position extremely, -a field of snow on one side, a mountain torrent on the other, myself under the shade of a little hillock, and I really fell asleep on this strange bed, and when at the end of an hour the party returned, felt able to do anything,-in short much less fatigued than when I had set out in the morning. Our descent was rapid, but an accident stopped our further progress, and so instead of going on the following day to Pampeluna, we were obliged to make a retrograde movement to Pau.

Yours, &c.,
C. A. B.