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the quay, and it is said to export annually 100,000 tons of brandy and wine. The greater part of the latter being called by the English, claret, from its fine transparent colour. The theatre of Bourdeaux is the finest in France. Bourdeaux possesses peculiar interest, as being the place where Louis XVIII was first publicly proclaimed king in France, and where the Duchess d'Angouleme exhibited so much heroism when Buonaparte returned from Elba..

Toulouse, by its canal, holds a communication with the Mediterranean, and by the Garonne with the ocean. It is well situated for commerce, but the inhabitants have more taste for literature than trade.

"Before the Revolution," said the Doctor, "there were three academies in Toulouse, the academie of sciences, that of inscriptions, that of belles lettres, established in 1746. That for painting, sculpture and architecture in 1750. The most ancient and most interesting was that called Jeux Flo

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"The prizes left by the interesting Clementi Isaure, fille aussi spirituelle que genereuse, as I heard one of her countrymen call her, were contended for by the Troubadours of ancient times, with all that ardour and zeal with which they generally pursued their romantic and poetic calling.

"These Troubadours," continued Doctor Walker, "who appear to have been the lineal successors of the Celtic bards, had followed in crowds to the Holy Land, the princes and nobles by whom they were patronised. They were the minstrels of Provence, and the romance, or modern heroic fable, was originally written in the Provençal dialect, then the most polished and universal of any modern tongue. The imaginations of these roving minstrels, became inflamed. by the splendour of oriental cities, by the sumptuous equipages and gorgeous banners displayed upon all occasions by the Christian as well as pagan knights, by their heroic bravery and daring exploits in actual war, and by the skill and address they displayed in the more peaceful, but occasionally not less fatal tournament.

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CONTINUING their journey on the south-side of the Garonne, they crossed that river at Langan, and at the smallvillage of Reole they passed the night. The venerable ruins of the castle of Reole are seated on a mountain which overhangs the river. It was formerly of considerable consequence, and was the place of residence of Catherine de Médici in many of her excursions to the south of France; and within its extensive walls she had several interviews with Henry of Navarre, afterwards king of France. The beauty of the scenery from Langon to Toulouse is beyond all description. Cherry-trees, figs, acacias, poplars and elms adorn the valley; and in many places the hills, which are covered with vineyards, when they border upon the river, are enlivened and enriched by clusters of the glowing grape. In the middle of this luxuriant scenery stands Agen, sheltered on the north by a very high hill called le Rocher de la belle vue, on the sun.mit of which is a convent; the chapel and some adjoining cells of which are scooped out of the rock. Agen is itself a poor and mean town, and contains but one good looking building, except a convent of Carmelite Nuns. The walls of this building are exquisitely painted in Chiaro. Obscuro, and over the altar, which is very beautiful, is an interesting painting. The subject is that of a nun sinking under the transports of holy contemplation. In this town Margaret of Valois, wife of Henry IV. held her court.

From Agen our travellers continued their journey along. the charming banks of the Garonne. The country on the south of the Garonne is hilly and mountainous, but is not less fertile, than the northern shores of this fine river. They stopped one day at Auches, in order to view the fine cathedral, the painted windows of which are only to be rivalled by those of Gouda in Holland. The buildings of this town are in general modern and elegant, and its situation delightful. It stands on the summit and declivity of a very steep hill, which is sur

rounded by rising grounds on every side, and in the valley beneath runs the small stream of Gers.

Dr. Walker, struck with the romantic beauty of the scenery, lingered for two or three weeks in this charming neighbourhood, and from thence made a little excursion to Borége, so celebrated for its medicinal baths, and to Bagnéres, which almost rivals Borége in reputation. Bagnéres is seated at the foot of the Pyrenees, at the end of a beautiful valley. The scenery is here much diversified. On one side rise the towering Pyrenees, their snowy summits lost in the clouds; while on the other, gentle hills and vales covered with the most luxuriant vegetation, and adorned with romantic cottages, present a mild and pleasing contrast to the grandeur and sublimity of the opposite mountains. From Bagnéres they proceeded to Tarbes, where they only stopped to change horses, and they arrived the same evening at Pau, the ancient capital of the ancient kingdom of Na

varre.

"Do, Sir," said Edward, "let us visit the castle where Henri le Grand was born."

"With all my heart;" replied his friend, "who would not visit a spot consecrated by the birth of so great a man?"

In one of the apartments they were shown a whole length portrait of his mother, Jane, queen of Navarre; her dress resembles very much that worn by queen Elizabeth; another apartment contained a portrait of Henry when a boy, and at length they reached the room where Henry was born. "Many of the kings of Navarre resided in this castle," said their guide, one of these was so extremely beautiful, that he was christened Francis Phoebus; at the age of sixteen this unfortunate youth taking up his flute, he was very fond of music, he no sooner put it to his mouth than he declared he was poisoned, and in two hours afterwards he expired."

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"Did no one ever ascertain who poisoned him?" enquired Edward.

"No;" replied his guide; "but he was succeeded by his sister Catherine de Foix."

"We are on interesting ground," observed the Doctor as they traversed this fertile country on their way to Orthes; "indeed one can scarcely enumerate the spots in this neighbourhood, which towards the conclusion of the late war, were so profusely stained with human blood!''

In the neighbourhood of this town they observed a great

difference in the costume of the peasantry, which strongly resembled that of the Spanish peasantry, and the language was so strongly tinctured with the basque, that it was in many instances unintelligible to our travellers. The only object worthy of attention in this place was the castle, which is situated on a high hill, commanding an extensive view of the surrounding plain. The sun was fast sinking behind this hill, when our travellers strolled to its summit. It was a lovely evening, the clear transparent ether glowed with the rich refulgence of the setting sun; every breeze was hushed, and no rude sound disturbed the calm repose which reigned around. Our travellers contemplated in silence the bewitch. ing softness of the scene, which the gradual approach of twilight rendered every moment more indistinct.

"Can you not, Edward," said the Doctor, "recollect some lines applicable to the present scene?"

EDWARD. "Now came still evening on, and twilight

Had in her sober livery all things clad:

Silence accompanied; for beast and bird,
Those to their grassy couch, these to their nests
Were stunk: all but the wakeful nightingale,
She all night long her amorous descant sung.
Silence was pleased; now glow'd the firmament
With living sapphires: Hesperus that led
The starry host; rode brightest, 'till the moon
Rising in cloudless majesty, at length
Apparent queen unveil'd her peerless light,
And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw.'

DR WALKER." You could not have chosen a more beautiful or more apt quotation, Edward."

They were at this moment accosted by an old grey-headed peasant; who expressed much surprise at seeing our travellers so quietly seated among the ruins.

"You had better not stay there my friends," said he as he passed rapidly on, "that castle is haunted."

Edward ran after him, "stop," said he; "haunted! by what?"

"By the ghost of a young princess," replied the peasant, "who was murdered there. P

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Edward eagerly requested he would turn back and tell them the particulars; but no entreaties could prevail upon the peasant, and he returned to Dr. Walker, lamenting very

much that he could not learn the legendary tale attached to the castle of Orthes.

"Sit down quietly," exclaimed his friend, "and I will tell you the origin of this ghost story. Blanche, a young and beautiful princess, daughter to John king of Arragon and Navarre, became heiress to the Navarrois crown upon the death of her brother. But her father having delivered her into the hands of her younger sister Leonora, countess of St. Foix, the latter confined the unhappy Blanche in this castle, and at length caused her to be poisoned in the year 1464. I was just going to tell you this story, when you scampered away in such a hurry after the old peasant. Now this is foundation enough for two ghost stories. It is therefore not to be wondered at that there should be one."

"There seems a sort of fatality attending that name of St. Foix," observed Edward. "Leonora is the second of that name which is associated with murder!"

The dew beginning to rise, Dr. Walker proposed returning home; that is to say, to their inn; but the word home conveys so much, and is so familiar to an Englishman, that if a British sailor, in the middle of the great South Sea, is asked where he is going, he will answer, home, if he is on his way to England.

SECTION IX.

ENTRANCE INTO SPAIN.

OUR travellers having at length arrived at Bayonne, they prepared for crossing the Pyrenees. The carriages used in this part of the country are neither easy nor elegant, but they are indeed the only vehicle suited to the rough road they are destined to traverse, with the assistance of six mules. These animals are harnessed with cords only to the shafts; and their sagacity and docility are astonishing; upon the smallest word from the chief muleteer they stop, and are guided by the human voice alone, through the windings and turnings of the roads upon these mountains. If they relax the postillion darts from his seat upon the shafts, and when they prove very obstinate, which is seldom the case,

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