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of a pantomime and a ballet. The position of some of our apartments at Sansot’s was amusing enough, as they commanded some rooms behind the scenes, so that we saw the actors, actresses, dancers, &c., waiting to be called, and getting up their parts.

A few days after we reached Bordeaux, the expedition having been strongly recommended, we chose a comparatively cool morning, and set out for the chateau of Bréde, the birthplace of Montesquieu. We were prepared for an eleven miles' walk, but managed to add considerably to the distance by missing our way. It was a pretty road, however, and we stopped at the little village of Prade for some refreshment, which we procured at a very second rate aubérge, and for which we paid more than we should have done at our own hotel. Still, we were thankful to get anything, and on any terms, after our morning's fatigues; so, after a rest, we walked on a few hundred yards further, which brought us to the chateau we were in search of. It is a quaint old place, surrounded by a moat filled with water, over which were thrown several little drawbridges. Besides these characteristics, it has not much the appearance of a castle, and is not strikingly picturesque. We made but a short stay there, but lingered

a little longer to admire the pretty little Norman Church at Prade. Time, however, was wearing on, and we began to think it best to hasten our steps homeward, quite calculating on a conveyance as soon as we reached the high road; but, as ill-luck would have it, every voiture was going the wrong way, and not one of any description overtook us till we arrived within a league of Bordeaux, when a return carriage made its appearance. Meantime it had become quite dark, and we were very much afraid that the thick, black clouds which surrounded us would burst upon us in a storm. Vivid flashes of lightning occasionally illuminated our path, and served as a sort of guide ; showing a broad, straight, bigh road, where we could scarcely go wrong; and fortunately they were not accompanied by either thunder or rain. Wearied out at last, we seated ourselves on some stones by the road-side ; but had scarcely done so, before we heard a vehicle approaching.. Having been so often disappointed before, we dreaded that it might again be going the wrong way for

us, and did not venture to say a word till it actually drove up. It was not the work of a moment to open the door, jump in, and make ourselves comfortable, before the driver could get off his box; and as we never thought of making a bargain, of course we had to pay what he asked when we reached our hotel, which we did just at midnight. We intend to read Montesquieu on the first opportunity, to see if he is worth the weary pilgrimage he cost us.

There is a large chapel at Bordeaux, capable of holding some hundreds, built by the English residents for our own service. It is a bare-looking room, much like a dissenting meeting-house, with a very scanty congregation; the people here call it a temple, I do not know why, unless it be that they do not choose to recognise it as a Church ; or perhaps because the Jewish commandments alone adorn its walls, the Pater and Credo being omitted. Between the services, whilst sitting in my room, heard a flourish of trumpets, and looking, saw a procession coming up the street, consisting principally of women astride on horseback, others in antique-looking cars. It was a troop of comedians giving notice there was to be a race in the afternoon, and these ladies were to be the performers. A heavy shower probably put a stop to their proceedings ; but Sunday is their great day for all sorts of entertainments. A different kind of scene occurred the following day. A coach drew up to our door, and six Sisters of Charity stepped out, accompanied by their Superior. They had been sent for by a young lady then resident in the hotel, who wished to be received amongst them. Matters were soon arranged, and the Mother Superior came the next morning early, and carried her off.

There are some handsome churches here, but I will tell you about them by and by. We visited the environs first, and the city itself last. Nothing daunted by our late disasters, we made another little excursion in the course of the week to Cubzac. This time, however, we rode to and fro in a diligence, at a very small cost, the distance being about twelve miles. It is a beautiful drive, with a splendid view of Bordeaux. The principal attraction at Cubzac is a suspension bridge over the Dordogne, which, with its piers, is more than half a mile long; it is very light and elegant, being supported by wires. However, we did not finish our excursioning without another adventure, the more trying, because we thought we had guarded against it. We set off one nice morning for Libourne, a distance of eighteen miles, which we reached by diligence at the cost of one and a half francs apiece ; a nice drive to a pretty place, situated at the confluence of the Isle and Dordogne. From thence we walked on to St. Emilion, about five or six miles distant; one of the most quaint and picturesque looking places I ever saw, built all over a rocky eminence, without any attempt at streets, a wall running round it, with a moat within; castellated ruins; here and there curious old doorways; bits of windows; a handsome old Church with a beautiful spire, &c. The recollection of Bréde made me anxious to return straightway to Libourne, where we were sure of a conveyance; but being hungry, we turned into a very second-rate aubérge, and for very second-rate fare were, to our

dismay, charged three and a half francs apiece. This was the more provoking, as it left us with only a franc each in our pockets wherewith to find our way home.

On arriving at Libourne, we were told that a diligence would leave that place for Bordeaux at nine o'clock ; so we set off at a brisk pace on the high road, that when the diligence overtook us, we might be able to pay the rest of our way. However, when we had traversed about half the road, the truth began gradually to impress itself more and more strongly on our minds that there was a mistake somewhere, and so it proved; we fell in with no vehicle of any kind till within about five miles of our own hotel, and that a market-cart, filled with sacks, and without springs. We asked and obtained a seat on the sacks, and proceeded at a snail's pace, so that the jolting did not inconvenience us; indeed we thought it absolutely luxurious.

Now let me tell you something about Bordeaux itself. It is the finest provincial city I ever saw; the houses are lofty, and built of stone; the streets wide, with trottoirs and avenues of trees through several of them. There are several open places, larger than our squares, and ornamented with several (sometimes as many as six or seven) rows of trees all round. Long lines of fiacres stand in the streets, with good horses, harness, and hammer-cloths. The women you meet look smartly dressed, but more from the light colours in request, than from anything very rich in material; white parasols, for instance, seem much the fashion. There is a very busy air about the city, but still the people do not present that worldly, careworn look, so striking in our English men of business. Of course there is a great deal of life on the broad quays, and refreshments too are plentiful. Large spreading umbrellas are planted here and there in the ground, which fold tight up at night, and when opened in the morning, form a species of little tent, under which cooling drinks may be obtained. There is also a great demand for artificial flowers, especially for Church purposes. The musée is indifferent, but the public library good ; and great facilities are afforded to strangers. The Churches are numerous, handsome, and very interesting to English people, as they have the credit of some of the best; the Cathedral, with two elegant spires, is attributed to us; S. Croix, very handsome; S. Eloi, just restored by the English Roman Catholics resident here, in very good taste, and at great cost; S. Peter and S. Paul, not remarkable ; S. Seurin, perhaps the most curious of all, a very irregular pile, with a triple porch elaborately carved. On entering, we found the aisle full of children ; boys on one side, very neatly dressed, with white waistcoats and trousers --girls on the other, entirely in white, with veils thrown over their heads. They were chanting Psalms, a Priest standing between them to lead ; but he did not seem very well pleased with their performance, which we supposed was only for the occasion. In the middle of the service came a very excellent sermon from the Abbé Sauverauche, addressed to the children who had that morning made their first communion. The sermon was followed by the service called “ Salut,” or “ Benediction of the Blessed Sacrament." The Priest's copes were of white satin, embroidered, it being the feast of S. John Baptist, a virgin saint.

28th.Left Bordeaux for Pau; I will write to you from the Pyrenees.

Yours, &c.,

C. A. B.

THE THREE WONDERS.

A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM.

It was the vigil of $. John, when the souls of all people leave their bodies, and wander to that place where, by land or by sea, a fioal separation awaits them! Clouds of darkness and suspense gathered round my rebellious heart, and I earnestly wished for the charmed sleep which might enable me to read the pages of futurity; for, to those watchers who fall asleep on Midsummer eve, and sleep so soundly that they cannot be awakened before midnight, a vision is vouchsafed during the interval, which, according to their measure of faith, is a revelation or a warning.

The surrounding woods grew purple, the hills stood out sharp and clear against the cool night sky, and the waves rippled darkling round the rocky islets ; restless fancy wafted me to the banks of the blue Guadalquiver, where bands of maidens gather dew-laden flowers on the Holy Baptist's morn, to dress the milk-white wether, dancing before it on the hill, (typical of ancient sacrifice upon high places.) The scene changed, and I was in old London, where used to be a marching watch in the city on Midsummer eve, with cressets blazing, and armour glancing, and swordsmen a-horse and a-foot, and the open windows resembling opera boxes on a favourite night, displaying ladies richly dressed, and glittering with gold and jewels, who sat to see the procession wandering on through the summer night, amid the flower-garlanded, illuminated streets. Imagination presented many other scenes in succession, until, drowsily sinking deeper on a bed of yielding moss, I began to count the stars through the interlacing branches over head; by degrees, the brightness of all the glorious host seemed to gather and concentrate in a focus of the smallest possible magnitude, scarce equalling in size the smallest star, yet inconceivably excelling every star in brilliancy, shining and bright beyond expression. Towards this point, a way diverged from earth, narrow, and immeasurable in length, but which seemed an easy pathway at first sight, because it did not meander, but went forwards, and ever gently upwards, in a straight, unbroken line.

Many persons thronged this narrow road, all regarding the beautiful light at the end, and pressing on towards it; and as they walked, I heard their discourse, which was entirely about how much nearer each step brought them to the shining glory—the portal of heaven.

As they were all journeying peacefully, in the hope of reaching heaven at last, I thought it would be pleasant to join them, which I did; and a goodly company they were, of all ages and conditions. But the road was long-of unknown length, and upwards, ever, ever upwards; and I, being weakly, got on slowly, while many others walked quickly past with ease. Now, though heaven's shining portal was always in view, yet I never seemed to approach it any nearer, and wearied with the walk, oftentimes exclaimed, “ I wonder if I shall ever reach it!"

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Ear hath not heard the deep songs of joy which burst on my enraptured soul, as suddenly and swiftly I was borne beneath a low, black dismal archway, away from the dusty, flinty, hard road, up which I had toiled and moaned, to sights and sounds so entrancing, that words fail and thoughts faint in attempting to pourtray them. Worn out, soiled habiliments fell off, and my flesh was sweet and pure as the new baptized; my step elastic, my mind buoyant, as if sorrow and sin had never been my portion.

Here was no night, but the everlasting Sun of Righteousness ; here were umbrageous shade, and fairest verdure; here were the crystal river, and ever-blooming flowers; dove-like birds of snowy plumage, refreshing breezes laden with rich perfumes, and a joy ineffable over all! Oh! the poverty and emptiness of these mortal sentences, when golden pavements bound with gems, failed to arrest and ravish the eyes; when sweet songs of angels, and whiterobed harpers harping melodiously, failed to absorb and rivet the soul, wrapt up in a contemplation of presiding and wondrous Love !

Heart and soul, ears and eyes, all, all, were filled with amazement and gratitude alone, at that merciful Love which had brought the stained, and travel-worn pilgrim, to partake of the immortal banquet, and to sit with the crowned bands of Paradise !

The ignorant, the miserable, the poor, the contrite suppliant, and heart broken, all transformed, all drinking of the waters of life, all tears wiped away, all sorrows ended! All brought to this consummation of bliss, through wondrous love and mercy !

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