public amusements would cease, amidst scenes of outrage and bloodshed, two other theatres were supported, which died as soon as tranquillity was restored. An unusual taste for pleasures of all kinds prevailed at Paris during the same period. On Sunday I attended public worship at one of the fifty Roman Catholic churches in the city. The audience was small, and consisted chiefly of women and children. There are no fixed seats in any of the French churches; and a person who wishes to sit must give a sous to an attendant for a chair, stacks of which are kept in the vestibule. After saying mass, a priest clad in his black robes and silk cap ascended the desk, and made an animated popular harangue to his congregation, who did not manifest much solemnity of countenance or feeling. The discourse appeared to be extempore and disconnected, unworthy the country of Fenelon, Saurin, and Massilon. In returning to the hotel, I witnessed a scene which few travellers have probably ever met at Lyons. The quay of the Rhone was thronged with people of both sexes, assembled to see a collection of boys skate upon the river, the waters of which are seldom frozen. After such a spectacle, there was no longer any ground for astonishment at the fact of Cæsar's crossing the Rhine with his army on the ice an historical incident which has been often cited to prove that the climate of Europe has undergone a radical change. In France the intensity of cold has been greater the present winter, than has been known within the recollection of the oldest persons living. Amidst the severity of the frost, our three American companions, some of whom at least had been seasoned by every variety of climate, hot and cold, humid and dry, set out at 7 o'clock in the evening, to ride all night on their way to Italy, over Mount Cenis, with the hope of reaching Venice before the great day of the Carnival. This hardy attempt to cross the Alps, like Hannibal in the depth of winter, in defiance of snow-storms, glaciers, and avalanches, drew forth the pathetic expostulation which Virgil puts into the mouth of his friend Gallus, addressed to one who was about to encounter the same hardships: "Tu procul a patria, nec sit mihi credere tantum ! Alpinas, ah dura! nives et frigora Rheni Me sine sola vides. Ah! te ne frigora lædant! Ah! tibi ne teneras glacies secet aspera plantas!" To which one of our party added the following very free impromptu translation, by way of a valedictory : Mad, monstrous purpose! far from friends and home, No storms impede, no avalanche o'erwhelm ! My friend and myself, less eager to witness the noisy revelries of the Carnival, and less prepared to brave the horrors of an Alpine winter, concluded to descend the vale of the Rhone, and seek a refuge from the frosts in the south of France, seduced perhaps in some measure by the bewitching notes of nightingales, which warble so sweetly the whole year-in the pages of Galignani's guide-book. The residue of our visit at Lyons was rendered pleasant, by an acquaintance incidentally formed at Table d'Hote, (resembling one of our public tables,) with a young Russian Count, to whom the American name was a sufficient recommendation. He remarked that in the United States alone, is liberty enjoyed or properly understood. One of his distant relatives was a volunteer in our revolution. He gave us much precise and valuable information, respecting the present state of Russia, and the characters of the two brothers of Alexander, whom he had often seen. In his opinion, Constantine is a man of much more talent than Nicholas. The former is a bold, brave, and ambitious prince; a soldier in his manners, and a favourite with the people; the latter has never manifested much ability, is moderate in his views, and pacific in his temperament. Nicholas is now about thirty, married to a Polish princess, and has two or three children. One of my last walks in Lyons was to visit the former residence of the celebrated Louise Charly, known under the name of the Belle Cordiere, from the profession of her husband. She is represented as another Sappho. Her personal accomplishments, the enchantment of her voice, her poetical talents, and the fascinations of her taste, drew around her all the literati of the city. The house is yet standing in which she used to hold her evening parties once a week, and charm the social circle, with the flashes of her fancy aud the display of her colloquial powers. Such was her fame as to give name to the street in which she lived. Her memoirs, with specimens of her poetry, have recently been published at Lyons. LETTER XLII. ROUTE TO AVIGNON-VALE OF THE RHONE-VIENNE-ST. VALLIERTAIN-VALENCE-MONT VENTOUX-ORANGE-AVIGNON--CARNIVAL -TOMB OF LAURA-EXCURSION TO VAUCLUSE. February, 1826. On the 6th we left Lyons in the Diligence for Avignon; a distance of one hundred and fifty miles. Our departure from the city was across the Rhone, and through the faubourg of Guillotiere, alluded to in a former letter. As the suburbs in this direction had already been seen, a ride of an hour or two by starlight probably did not occasion the loss of many interesting objects. The day dawned, the morning opened, and the sun rose pleasantly upon rural and highly picturesque scenery, composed of woody hills, retired vales, and scattered villages, skirting the banks of the Rhone, eight or ten miles below Lyons. Farther on, the country becomes more rugged, and the soil barren. The coach reached Vienne at 9 o'clock, where we took breakfast. This town was the capital of the warlike tribe of the Allobrages, so often mentioned in the commentaries of Cæsar. It became an important place, after falling into the hands of the Romans, and it is yet full of antiquities. The remains of one or two old fortresses, upon the brow of a precipitous and craggy hill impending over the city, present a romantic view. Near by are the ruins of an amphitheatre. But the most interesting object at Vienne is the magnificent quay, which stretches along the Rhone, whose sea-green waters here sweep down with a bold and impetuous current. A rock is shown near the shore, whence it is said Pontius Pilate threw himself and put an end to his existence. He was banished hither by Tiberius Cæsar. Vienne was long the rival of Lyons, the latter being a colony from the former. Vestiges of ancient jealousy still exist between the two places, although they have long ceased to wage a competition in trade, the one containing a population of only 15,000, and the other 150,000. On leaving the town we passed the cathedral, a venerable gothic pile, with two stately towers rising amidst smaller turrets. Seated upon a plain, between the road and the river, is an ancient and curious monument, supposed by some to be the mausoleum of a distinguished Roman. It is quadrangular at the base, with four open arches. Tra dition refers it to the age of Severus, or even as far back as the reign of Augustus. A lofty range of mountains extends along the right bank of the Rhone, as far as the eye can reach, the summits being snow-clad, and the sides girt with terraces of vineyards, which at a distance have the appearance of natural strata. The left shore of the river is flat, with glimpses of the Alps in the distance, basking like white clouds in the morning sun. Nearly the whole of this region is appropriated to the cultivation of the vine and the mulberry, imparting a uniform aspect to the scenery. The soil is thin, gravelly, and apparently not very fertile, though by industry rendered productive. Almost every post brought us to a region celebrated for some new species of wine. The mulberry tree is planted in orchards, grows to the height of fifteen or twenty feet, with a spreading top, not unlike the butternut of our country. Its leaves, as is well known, form the exclusive food of the silk-worm, one of the staple commodities of the district. The houses in all this region are uniform in their construction, being built of rude stone and mortar, and the walls covered with a thick coat of stucco. At a distance the white villages show to advantage, but will not bear a close examination. The streets are generally narrow, dirty, and often poverty-stricken, though the people do not appear to be wanting in activity and industry. Fewer beggars were observed on this road, than in any part of France. The navigation of the Rhone is peculiar, and struck us as a novelty. In descending, the rapidity of the current is sufficient to bear down vessels without oars or sails; but the ascent is extremely arduous, and so expensive as almost to annihilate the advantages of a navigable channel. In the course of the day, we saw strings of ten or twelve boats fastened together and drawn along the shore at a snail's pace, by a team of twenty horses. At certain seasons the torrent is so headlong, as to obstruct all navigation in either direction. The margin of the river, for the greater part of the way, is composed of banks of pebbles and barren sand, swept down by the floods. At 4 o'clock in the afternoon, we reached the town of St. Vallier, situated in the midst of a fertile plain, abounding with fruit trees of various kinds, and producing a large kind of chestnut, called marrons de Lyons, famous in Paris, as well as in all the south of France. Persons make a business of roasting this kind of nut, along the side-walks of the metropolis and other towns, selling it while hot as a luxury the passenger. It is about twice the size of an American chestnut, and not unlike it in taste. Soon after leaving St. Vallier, we rode for a mile or two along a terrace, impending over the turbulent and azure waters of the Rhone, with high and rugged hills on the left. Several of the eminences are crowned with ruined fortresses, looking down upon the vale, and presenting many picturesque views. At one point a village literally overhangs the wave, which dashes with the grandeur of the ocean on the rocks beneath. This is perhaps the most romantic part of the vale of the Rhone. Just at twilight the coach reached the village of Tain, pleasantly situated on both sides of the river, and connected by a stately bridge. It carries on an extensive trade in Hermitage and Cote Rotie wines, celebrated for their excellence and produced in great quantities in the neighbourhood. Soon after leaving this place, we crossed the Isere, a large and rapid branch of the Rhone, with which it unites a mile or two below the ferry. Its banks are celebrated in the wars of the Romans, and subsequently of the Goths. A battle was here fought by Camillus, in which something like a hundred thousand were left upon the field. The low and barren shores of the stream are so swept by torrents from the Alps at certain seasons, that no bridge will stand, and the river is crossed in the same way as Schoharie Creek, by cables extended from large timbers on either side. It was so dark, that the cordage could not be seen, and the boat appeared to glide across without oars or sails, while the creaking of the iron rings in the air over our heads was at first mistaken for the shrill cry of a bird of prey, hovering in darkness above the stream. At 8 o'clock in the evening, we arrived at the large town of Valence, containing a population of fifteen thousand. Here Pope Pius VI. died in 1799, while an exile from the papal throne. His remains were interred in the Cathedral, and honoured with a mausoleum from the chisel of Canova. A trifling circumstance afforded us an opportunity of seeing with what grace a pretty French woman could play the termagant. She and her henpecked husband were journeying from Paris to Nismes by the way of Lyons. By mistake he had engaged passages in the wrong coach, in consequence of which she would be kept up another night. On discovering the error, the restraints of a public table and of a large circle of strangers did not prevent the sallies of her anger, and her open reproaches, which he bore with philosophical coolness. The passengers took sides with the combatants, and made it an affair of as much moment, as a national revolution. At every hotel the discussion was revived with the same warmth, till the moment of our separation at Avignon. The versatility of the French language and the rapidity of French enuncia |