other defence than the steep rocks with which it is surrounded.

The

VENTIMIGLIA, 26th.-About six miles from Mentone, on the road to this place, is the Bridge of St. Louis, built across a ravine, on rocks; whose height is from three hundred and fifty to four hundred feet high. It consists of a single arch, of an immense span, and of so admirable a construction, that it emulates the works of the Romans. water falls in cascades into the ravine beneath; over which an aqueduct is constructed, which adds much to the beautiful effect of the bridge. A large and curious grotto, or gallery, is cut in the rocks near the bridge; but we had only time to look at it en passant. The Pont de St. Louis and the aqueduct were constructed by the command of Napoleon, and will serve as a durable monument of his hardy and enterprising mind. Travellers in France and Italy will often find occasion to recal his memory with gratitude; for he has rendered many a journey easy and agreeable, which, without his aid, would have been a toilsome and dangerous pilgrimage. It is to be hoped that the King of Sardinia will complete the

road so admirably commenced by Napoleon. But should he determine to undertake this most useful task, many years must elapse before it can be accomplished, as works are but slowly carried on here; some eight or ten labourers being employed where one hundred ought to be.

At Ventimiglia the women commence wearing the style of head dress which prevails through this part of the country; namely, a large scarf of flowered chintz, with a rich border, in which the brightest colours are introduced. This is placed across the head, and covers the shoulders and bosom. Its effect is very becoming. We were overtaken on the route by Mr. H. F. and his travelling companion Mr. W., who are also proceeding to Genoa. The former is lively, and très spirituel, mais un peu espiègle. He abounds in anecdotes; some a little malicious, but all amusing and well told. The inn here is extremely bad, in all respects, except not being unclean: indeed, we have been agreeably surprised wherever we have stopped, even for an hour to refresh our mules, at observing the perfect attention paid to cleanliness. The furniture in all the inns is of the simplest and most ordinary kind; but

nowhere have we seen aught approaching to the

untidiness and dirt we had so much reason to complain of in France, where the beds alone seem to be attended to.

We walked out this evening on the beach, and seeing a church open, on the very edge of the sea, we entered it. It was lighted by a single lamp, which cast a dim light around, and showed us several women veiled, and kneeling; many of them half concealed by the deep shadows thrown by the columns and the flickering of the lamp. No priest officiated at the altar, and a solemn silence prevailed, interrupted only by the breaking of the waves against the shore, or the murmur of the whispered prayers and sighs of the women. The place, the hour, and the deep abstraction of the congregation, rendered this one of the most touching scenes of religious worship I ever witnessed, or ever participated. So fervent and so wholly engrossing was the devotion of the women, that they never noticed our entrance; and it was not until they arose to depart that they became sensible of our presence. Soon after our return to the inn, some six or eight of them brought us bouquets of flowers, which were offered

with a grace peculiar to the peasants of this country.

The custom that prevails all over the Continent, of leaving the churches open during the day and evening, is one of the few religious usages that I should like to see adopted in England, as I am persuaded it would be attended with a beneficial effect. How frequently, when harassed by the cares and annoyances of life, from which not even the most fortunate are exempt, might our thoughts be turned to another channel, and our minds be tranquillized, by resorting to a temple sacred to the Divinity: a place that shuts out the poignant sense of present misfortunes, to which we are so prone to succumb, by lifting our aspirations to a Sphere, where the mourner ceases to sorrow, and the weary are at rest. How can we be engrossed by selfish cares, when we enter a temple consecrated to Him, who came on earth to teach us how we ought to suffer? a temple, venerable from having been the asylum where many an oppressed heart has sought relief by an unchecked and pious avowal of all its secret sorrows at the throne of a merciful and heavenly Judge, in the humble yet confiding hope of alleviation from that

source whence alone it can be obtained. Generations and generations have passed away, of individuals bowed down by sorrows, heavier perchance than those which we have to bear, who perhaps on the spot where we now kneel have implored the mercy of the Almighty. How trivial appear our troubles, when we reflect on the inevitable and rapid flight of time, and think that in a short period we too shall have passed away, like those who preceded us; and others, occupied by the same pursuits, and wearied by the same cares, will take our places. Life at such moments seems but as a fast fleeting dream, and eternity is the only unchanging, enduring reality. We are, alas! but too prone to forget this knowledge; and to permit ourselves to be all engrossed by the pains or pleasures of this world, so that we require to be reminded of another, by having the house of God continually open to us.

ONEGLIA, 27th.-The route between Ventimilia and this place is quite as picturesque and beautiful as between the former and Mentone. We noticed several groves of palm trees, high, and of luxuriant growth, and which growing near the sea, gave the