reflected in the waters. The gracefulness of its windings resembles the river Trent where it unites with the Dove in Derbyshire; and some of the more frequent windings even reminded me of the noble Forth in Scotland, as seen from Stirling Castle and the Ochil Hills, blending it beautiful stream with the waters of the Teith, a scene which no lover of nature, who has once witnessed it, can ever forget. Indeed I have seldom seen a finer valley than was spread below us, as we wound slowly up the road which, besides the river Yonne, was amply varied with the richest vineyards, green meadows, fertile cornfields, and an abundant variety of wood delightfully dispersed over every part of the surrounding scene. A large expanse of country lies before the traveller, with wood spread through the undulations of the valleys, and bounded by an amphitheatre of hills richly clad with trees, then in full leaf. I descended from the carriage, and walked by the side of the road that I might have a more perfect enjoyment of this delicious scene. We afterwards passed through a much nobler and bolder country on the banks of the Rhone; but I never remember to have been more pleasurably affected than by the softness and serenity of this evening scene on the banks of the river Yonne. The remembrance of hours, passed among the beautiful scenes of nature, forms, perhaps, the most pure and unmixed happiness of man, next to the reflection of having performed his duty.

The village in which I found this interesting ruin lies out of the direct road, and is not, therefore, frequently visited by travellers, though I find it was visited by Mr. Hughes*. It lies between Saulieu and Châlons-surSaone, and cuts off an angle formed by the town of Autun, the regular post road to Châlons. On this account I shall describe its situation and appearance, which are singularly interesting.

The entrance into the village of La Rochepot is very picturesque. It lies in a valley, embosomed, as it were, in a bed of stone: indeed it is like the crater caused by a volcano. Its sides are precipitous, and inclose a very small space, in which the village is built. Our approach was by a road which first ran along one side of the bason for some distance, and then gradually wound its way, like a serpent, down into the valley. On the opposite side of this little valley stands the ruined chateau, which, in the changeful and mellow light of the declining sun,-seen in various positions from the top of the other side of the valley, as I have described it, as we wound down into its bosom, was a beautiful object. The village and its little church embosomed in fine trees, lay just below this ruined

* Itinerary of Provence and the Rhone, by John Hughes, A. M. London, 1822.

chateau. The whole formed as pretty a scene of the kind as I almost ever witnessed.

This chateau was destroyed in that sweeping whirlwind, the first Revolution. On the following morning I visited the ruin; in the front of which there yet remain the outer walls of two round towers, or fortalices, flanking the gates on either side; and at the other end, on the point of a precipitous rock, are the remains of a single square tower. Thus the outline of the castle, as now marked out by the ruined walls, forms an almost perfect triangle, which, indeed, is the natural shape of the rock upon which it was built. The whole place had an imposing effect upon the imagination. It might have been the castle of some feudal chieftain (such was the current of my reflections), who had practised much cruelty and ferocity, and whose strong hold had now fallen by hands not less cruel and ruthless *. I disturbed two birds, which had their nest in some of the forsaken places of the desolate walls of the ruined building. They screamed over my head during the whole time that

* "We found upon inquiry (says Mr. Hughes) that it had been tenanted at a much later period than its appearance would have led us to suppose. M. Blancheton, the proprietor, had made it his chief residence some thirty years ago, and kept it up in a style imitating as nearly as possible its ancient feudal grandeur. At the Revolution, however, it was forfeited, and has since been sold twice; but though each purchaser has pulled down a part, and sold the materials, enough still remains to give a perfect idea of its former strength and massiveness.”—See his Itinerary, chap. ii. p. 31. When I visited this interesting ruin, I did not know Mr. Hughes's entertaining, as well as useful, work.

I remained in the ruin. It reminded me, though on so small a scale, of the ruins of Babylon. The wild birds inhabited the forsaken hearths of the human race.

The churchyard, at the foot of the hill on which the ruin stands, is one of the sweetest spots imaginable. It is planted with fine walnut trees, like some of our own churchyards in England. It stands on a gentle declivity, and commands a view of the greater part of the valley. The whole scene of this little valley,-its village, church and churchyard, rocks and trees, all surmounted by the ruined castle,―rises at this moment vividly before my imagination.

3.

SONNET IV.

The traveller descends from one of the noblest hills,adorned with rich and luxuriant trees, and commanding on all sides and in the distance the most exquisite and extensive views,-into the city of Lyons, which, in its approach and its entrance, disappoints every one. But the manners of the people were to me peculiarly disgusting at this city. At Lyons I first perceived that excessive laxity in religion, for which the French are justly proverbial. We arrived on Saturday night, and rested on the following Sunday. In the evening I went into the town: I was aware of the different observance of the Lord's Day in Roman Catholic and in Protestant countries, or rather in our own country, and in those of Conti

nental Europe. I have lived in Scotland and in France; and perhaps there is almost as much error, if not as much danger, in the Pharisaical observance of this day by the Presbyterians and other sects of Scotland, as in the open profanation of it in France and other Roman Catholic countries. The rigid fanaticism of the Presbyterian degenerates into formality and hypocrisy in nine-tenths of the people, and a gloomy fanaticism in the remainder, which is very alien from the true spirit of Christianity. But the open profanation of this day in France, and this from the earliest childhood,-must tend to the destruction of religious principle altogether. At Lyons, on this evening, a mountebank was performing in the great square before the windows of our hotel. I observed almost every species of profligacy in the streets; and I returned home disgusted with a people who had lost all reverence for God, and internally prayed that my own countrymen and countrywomen, who reside so much in this country, might not be corrupted by the moral contagion. On this head there is but too much cause for the deep apprehension of all serious men.

4.

SONNET VI.

We drove to see the confluence of the Rhone and the Saone, which, by a pretty fiction, is called the marriage of these two noble rivers. The banks of the Rhone, along which we drove, are very prettily planted with trees, which