pass between the cliffs. The ruins of a Saracenic castle stood on the heights to guard the passage. It was certainly the most romantic scene I had ever beheld.

Looking down into the deep cleft below me, at the bottom of which ran a turbulent stream, I saw the narrow road along which our carriage was to pass. And then suddenly I emerged in full sight of the Mediterranean, with the calm blue heavens resting over the deep blue sea. There were palms, cactuses, and orange trees, mixed with olive groves. The fields were full of tulips and narcissuses, and the rocks by the roadside were covered with boxwood and lavender. Everything gave evidence of the sunny South. I had got a glimpse of the Mediterranean a few days before; but now I saw it in its glory.

I arrived in due time at Toulon. The town is not very striking in itself. It is surrounded by an amphitheatre of mountains of hard magnesian limestone. These are almost devoid of vegetation. This it is which gives so arid an aspect to this part of the coast. Facing the south, the sun's rays, reflected from the bare surface of the rocks, place one at mid-day as if in the focus of a great burning mirror, and send every one in quest of shade. This intense temperature has its due effect upon the workers in the dockyard. I found the place far inferior to the others which I had visited. The heat seemed to engender a sort of listlessness over the entire place. The people seemed to be falling asleep. Though we complain of cold in our northern hemisphere, it is a great incentive to work. Even our east wind is an invigorator; it braces us up, and strengthens our nerves and muscles.

It is quite possible that the workmen of the Toulon dockyard might fire up and work with energy provided an occasion arose to call forth their dormant energy. But without the aid of an almost universal introduction of self-acting tools in this sleepy establishment, to break, with the busy hum of active working machinery, the spell of indolence that seemed to pervade it, there appeared to me no hope of anything like continuous and effective industry or useful results. The docks looked like one vast knacker's yard of broken-down obsolete ships and wretched old paraphernalia - unfortunately a characteristic of other establishments nearer home than Toulon.

After transacting my business with the directing officers of this vast dockyard I returned to Marseilles. There I found letters requiring me to proceed to Naples, in order to complete some business arrangements in that city. I was exceedingly rejoiced to have an opportunity of visiting the south of Italy. I set out at once. A fine new steamer of the Messageries Imperiales, the Ercolano, was ready to sail from the harbour. I took my place on board. I found that the engines had been made by Maudsley Sons and Field; they were of their latest improved double-cylinder construction. When I went down into the engine-room I felt myself in a sense at home; for the style of the engines brought to my mind many a pleasant remembrance of the days gone by.

We steamed out of the harbour, and passed in succession the beautiful little islands which gem the bay of Marseilles. Amongst others, the isle of If, crowned by its castle, once a State prison, and the Château d'If, immortalised by Dumas. Then Pomègne, Ratoneau, and other islands. We were now on the deep blue Mediterranean, watching the graceful curves of the coast as we steamed along. Soon after, we came in sight of the snow-capped maritime Alps behind Nice. The evening was calm and clear, and a bright moon shone overhead. Next morning I awoke in the harbour of Genoa, with a splendid panoramic view of the city before me. I shall never forget the glorious sight of that clear bright morning as long as I live.

As the steamer was to remain in the harbour until two o'clock next day, I landed with the passengers and saw the wonders of the city. I felt as if I were in a new world. On every side and all around me were objects of art lighted up by glorious sunshine. The picturesque narrow streets, with the blue sky overhead and the bright sunshine lighting up the beautiful architecture of the palatial houses, relieved by masses of clear shade, together with the picturesque dresses of the people, and the baskets of oranges and lemons with the leaves on the boughs on which they had been born and reared, the brilliant greenery of the inner courts into which you peeped while passing along the Strada Nuova, literally a street of palaces, threw me into a fervency of delight. Here, indeed, was architecture to be proud of -- grand,

  By PanEris using Melati.

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