intermediate space is sown with grain, which was already in a state of forwardness, covering the fields with a deep, lively green. In some places for miles, the country resembled a continued garden, where the almond mingled its early blossoms* with the verdure of the olive, and the landscape was warmed into life and beauty by the first influences of a vernal sun. At 5 o'clock in the afternoon, we arrived in sight of Montpellier, which was seen at the distance of four or five miles, seated upon a hill of considerable elevation, and lifting its towers and steeples above all the surrounding country. Its situation is peculiarly prominent and striking. Crossing the river Lis, a copiou and pure stream which flows under the walls of the town, and passing in the suburbs a splendid villa, shaded with evergreens in the style of an English Park, we climbed slowly up a terraced road, and reached the Hotel du Midi, just at evening. Here our Spanish friends again joined us, and seemed almost like old acquaintances. They took their departure the next day for the frontiers of their native country. A large concert on the night of our arrival afforded us an early opportunity of seeing the collected beauty, taste, and fashion of Montpellier. The hall for music is connected with the theatre. We found it filled with three or four hundred ladies and gentlemen of the first families, in full dresses, assembled to witness the extraordinary musical powers of a young lad of fourteen, who has acquired a high reputation as an improvisatore. The compass and sweetness of his voice, his masterly execution upon the piano, and above all the faculty of composing music, as it were by inspiration, created universa astonishment, and drew forth unbounded applause. He would play and sing for fifteen or twenty minutes, without having, it was said, a note of the rhapsody in his mind when he commenced. His manner was bold, confident and unembarrassed, indicating no effort to produce the sweetest combinations of musical sounds. I am neither musician nor metaphysician enough to explain this intellectual phenomenon. The natural * "L'amandier," says Richard, "est nommé a Montpellier arbre de la folie, parce qu'il fleurit trop tot; et le jujubier, arbre de la sagesse, parce qu'il ne porte de fleurs que lorsque le temps est chaud." But the accusation against the almond seems to be too severe, and I could not learn that it ever suffers by its imprudence, in putting forth its beautiful flowers amidst the last frosts of winter, a month in advance of more cautious plants. It may be recollected, that we found it diffusing its fragrance through the vale of Vaucluse, on the 8th of February, while the mountains of Provence were yet white with snow, and long before the icy winds from the Alps had ceased to blow, even at Marseilles. gift seems somewhat analagous to the arithmetical powers of Zera Colburn, and to depend more on instinct than education. Had not the audience, with a full knowledge of this musical prodigy, manifested as much surprise as ourselves, I should have suspected that there was some imposition, and that his extempore compositions had secretly been "learned and conned by rote."* On the following morning, we took a long stroll over every part of Montpellier and its suburbs. The town, containing 30,000 inhabitants covers but a small area, and is much crowded. Its streets are generally not more than eight or ten feet in width; gloomy, crooked, and filthy; winding like obscure lanes through a wilderness of antiquated French houses, into the windows of which even the splendid sun of Languedoc never shoots a ray. In a word, the interior presents a sad contrast to the exterior. To these remarks, however, there are many exceptions. The new streets and new buildings, the boulevards and terraces, are spacious, airy, and magnificent. On the top of one house, four or five stories high, was observed a fine hanging garden, filled with evergreens, oranges, and flowers—a little Eden perched in the air, and waving its foliage a hundred feet above our heads. The most splendid part of Montpellier is the public area, called Porte Peyron, situated upon the very summit of the eminence, overlooking the rest of the town and its beautiful environs. It consists of an extensive triangular esplanade; approached on either hand by a wide boulevard; surrounded by terraces and balustrades, terminated on one side by a lofty triumphal arch, and on the other by a fountain, in the shape of a Grecian temple. The last mentioned ornament is peculiar in its construction, and surpasses any thing of the kind to be found in the metropolis itself. Connected with it is an aqueduct, colossal in its proportions, grand in design, admirable in execution, and justly ranked among the most stupendous works of modern times. It is composed of three stories of lofty stone arches, making an aggregate height of something like a hundred feet; so massive, so substantial in its materials, and so well constructed, as apparently to defy the devastations of time. This monument of regal magnificence was com * The impromptu performances of this juvenile Jongleur, seated in a circle and receiving the applauses of so much beauty, presented at least a shadow of those musical entertainments, called the Courts of Love, before which the Troubadours of Provence, in an age more chivalrous and romantic than the present, appeared with their harps upon their arms, ready to engage in the tenson and contend for the prize of skill. Who can say that this rhapsodist of Languedoc is not a lineal descendant of Arnaud de Marveil, Pierre Vidal, or Giraud Riquier? menced in the reign of Louis XIV-under the auspices of the same monarch who united distant seas by the Languedoc Canal. ter. The most expensive part of the aqueduct stretches between two hills, about a mile in extent, though the copious and pellucid stream which here finds an aerial channel, is brought from a distance of six miles. After falling into the fountain, above alluded to, and assuming all the beautiful forms which taste could devise, it again seeks subterranean passages and furnishes the town with an abundant supply of pure waThe open temple erected over the reservoir is supported by twelve Corinthian pillars on the outside, and by six in the interior. Between these are six arches, twenty feet high. In this beautiful rotunda is a capacious basin, three or four feet deep, and perhaps fifteen in diameter, into which the aqueduct discharges itself. The water after reposing for a moment beneath a Grecian canopy and among marble columns, leaves the temple, descending in silver sheets and streamlets over broken masses of moss-covered rocks into a larger reservoir or rather lake, plentifully stocked with fish, and overshadowed by trees which cover the esplanade in front. Porte Peyron forms perhaps the finest promenade in France. Triple belts of terraces run round the hill, and the different stages, rising one above another, are ornamented with groves and fountains, so that a person on the upper parapet finds himself among the foliage and enjoys the shade of the trees springing from below. At the foot of the eminence winds the green, retired vale of Merdanzon, blooming with gardens, and spanned by the arches of the aqueduct. But the distant view from the balustrade of the upper terrace is peculiarly magnificent, commanding a wide horizon, bounded on all sides by interesting objects. Towards the west, the snow-clad tops of the Pyrenees are discoverable to the north rise the hills of Cevennes, sometimes in broken bluffs, and at others, in long calcareous ridges: towards the south and east, the eye ranges over a broad, level region, and reposes upon the blue expanse of the Mediterranean. The intermediate tract is brightened by cultivation, and studded with villages, among which is Cette, which may be considered the port of Montpellier. On the outside of the boulevard leading to the Esplanade, and just at the base of the hill on which the town stands, is the Botanic Garden, separated from the public walk by a curtain of evergreens. The enclosure is not very extensive, but embraces a great variety of surface, prettily laid out into compartments, and embellished with bronze busts of distinguished naturalists. It is the oldest establishment of the kind in Europe. All the plants are labelled, and the grounds are kept in good order, though they do not appear to be much frequented. In the luxurious climate of Languedoc, where fruits and flowers spring spontaneously, Flora probably finds fewer votaries, than the more voluptuous goddess of pleasure and love. Though the day was serene and delightful, the alleys were marked by no footsteps save ours, and the first blossoms of spring were left to breathe their odours in solitude. Even the old portress was ferreted from her lodge with difficulty, and seemed to consider our visit as an unexpected as well as an unwelcome intrusion. In the most retired part of the Garden darkened by thick copses of cypress and yew, sleeps the dust of Narcissa, the daughter of the poet Young. The spot is as gloomy as the imagination of the author of "Night Thoughts." So secreted is the tomb, as to compel us to return once or twice to the gate for new instructions from the withered sibyl, who was too infirm or too indolent to quit her cell as a guide. At length descending into a deep entrenchment, running across the garden like a moat between perpendicular walls ten or fifteen feet high, and filled with all kinds of rubbish, we found a rude arch on one side, bearing the inscription-" Placandis Narcissa manibus." The dark and mouldering recess, overgrown with wild plants and mantled with ivy, extends eight or ten feet into the bank; and the mouth of the dreary cavern is guarded by a little wicker fence made of reeds. Young's pathetic description of the interment of his daughter, by his own hands, is doubtless familiar to many of my readers : "With pious sacrilege a grave I stole ; In midnight darkness, whispered my last sigh Whispered what should echo through their realms, Nor writ her name, whose tomb should pierce the skies !" The spirit of bigotry and intolerance, which denied to a protestant in a land of strangers the charity of a grave, and drove a father to these last sad offices, has in a more enlightened age in some degree subsided; and although the inscription imputed by the guide books to Mr. Artaud of Lyons-" inter flores Narcissa relucet"-could not be found by us, her name now marks her tomb and imparts an additional interest to the garden, in which her ashes repose. Some one seems to have been ambitious of paying a slight tribute to her memory, by embellishing the neighbouring embankment with an imitation of Alpine scenery, and a tiny foot-path winding down the declivity, among mimic rocks, to the door of the sepulchre. On our way back from the Botanic Garden to the Hotel, we visited the Cathedral, Town-House, College, and other public buildings. The first of these is remarkable only for its two Gothic towers, and a gigantic portico forming the entrance; and the shapeless edifice occupied by the University can boast of nothing save its beautiful situation upon one of the boulevards, commanding a view of the sea. In the same part of the town are the Citadel, Barracks, and Parade, situated along the ramparts. The Market is handsome as well as commodious, being surrounded with columns and arcades, together with a fountain at which two marble unicorns are in the attitude of drinking. After dinner on this day, we were favoured with a call from the Professor of Botany in the University, to whom a mutual friend in New-York had given me a letter of introduction. He regretted that absence from home during the day, had prevented him from receiving the note till a late hour, and that he had been deprived of the pleasure of conducting us through the Botanic Garden, which particularly belongs to his department, and engrosses most of his attention. This gentleman has passed several years in the United States, where he completed his studies with one of our most eminent physicians, and received a degree from the Medical College in New-York. His feelings, friendships, and attachments, are still in a great measure American. He imparted to us much valuable information respecting the University and other public institutions at Montpellier, with which he is intimately acquainted. The Medical College, which was founded as early as the 12th century by Arabian emigrants from Spain, and which has become one of the most celebrated schools in Europe, was never in a more flourishing condition than at present. All the departments are filled with men of talents. The Professor of Anatomy is peculiarly distinguished; but fears were expressed, that the College was about to be deprived of his pre-eminent services by a recent paralytic affection. Owing to the salubrity of the climate, the cheapness of living, and the well established reputation of this school, some of the medical students from the United States have preferred it even to the schools of Paris. One of our countrymen received the first honours of the College last year, and acquired much distinction by his scientific attainments. The Professor was so polite as to express a wish that our stay at Montpellier might be prolonged several days, and that he might have an opportunity of showing us some of those attentions and kind offices which the letter from his friend in New-York had solicited. But we had already lingered in the South of France much longer than had been anticipated, and the most favourable season for visiting Italy was |