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One pretty grisette assured me that she walked bareshod less for nomy than to ease her feet; but on my pressing her a little, she admitted, with a gentle sigh, perhaps vanity might have something to do with it..

I was accompanied as far as Penticosa by one who called himself an English clergyman, the least agreeable person I ever travelled with, and so religiously angry with himself at first starting, that I was obliged to call him to order by telling him plainly that I was quite convinced in my own mind that he was not so good as he pretended to be. The end of all things, he said, was at hand. I told him I was extremely sorry to hear it, but that he might at all events make himself agreeable as long as they did last. He was, plague take him, as sanctimonious as possible, until his shoes began to pinch him, and then he wished them at the devil, with the shoemaker that had made them; but he merited all he suffered for affecting to be better than he really was.

We are too oft to blame in this,

'Tis too much proved that with devotion's visage

And pious action, we do sugar o'er

The devil himself.

In my journey through life, I have generally remarked that the worst sort of people are often those who affect to be the best, and this is as true as that French hens lay more eggs than English ones. The French, who are much more ingenious than ourselves, have a method of managing their hens, that is little dreamt of in our philosophy.

I once heard of a man who had constructed a hen's nest, with a trap door in its bottom, through which the egg dropped as soon as it was laid. The poor hen, turning round and seeing no egg, lays another almost directly.

"It's all very well," said my friend the parson, with a distracted grin, for his shoes still pinched him," it's all very well, but then one don't like the deception of the thing."

"The fiddlestick," quoth I, losing all patience, for I felt as dandery as the old lady at Edinburgh, when she had lost her dog round a corner, and a Scotch presbyterian she met refused to whistle him, because it was Sunday. "I canna whistle on the Sabbath," quoth he, in his abominable Scotch brogue, "I canna whistle on the Sabbath."

I'll bet my dukedom to a widow's chastity that the old hypocrite did worse things than whistle before that day was over.

I saw nothing in the Pyrenees that pleased me more than the scenery between Eaux Chaudes and Ga Gas, which somewhat resembles that of Killicrankie. The lofty mountains, the dark defiles, the pineclad heights, the precipices rising from the water's edge, sometimes covered with foliage, sometimes bare and destitute of vegetation; the hills adorned with luxurious wood of every tint and almost every kind, with here and there a bright patch of emerald green-the river itself forming a succession of falls, and as pretty as the Tay at Dunkeld-all contribute to render this one of the most charming rambles in the Pyrenees.

This stream, like many of those in Scotland, is full of large rocks, which just peeping above its surface give one the idea that the water is more shallow than is actually the case. At one part you might almost cross to the opposite side by jumping from rock to rock. But the experiment would be a hazardous one.

I once nearly lost my life in attempting to ford a mountain torrent in this manner, and was laid up a fortnight with the injuries I received. I had wandered out of the direct route for many hours, and it was absolutely necessary to cross the river, the track being on the opposite side.

I got half across without much difficulty, when perceiving that the remaining stones were farther apart than I had supposed them to be, and not within the compass of a leap, I reluctantly turned to retrace my steps, but that to my dismay was no longer possible; for having jumped from a high rock to a lower one, I could not get back again. I was thus, in Yankee phraseology, "in a pretty considerable darned enormous fix.” For a time I remained seated on my pedestal," like patience on a monument smiling at grief," the torrent rushing on either side of me as rapid as a millstream. The old saying flashed across my mind, that "he who is born to be drowned will never be hanged," but I derived so little comfort from it, that I roared lustily for help. I might to as much purpose

have called

Spirits from the vasty deep.

I therefore had recourse to my pipe-that great consolation to a mind distressed that never-failing solace to the wearied pedestrian-that luxury which the poorest man can enjoy, and which God grant he may never be deprived of. One sometimes hears smoking condemned by those who like it not, and who

Compound for sins they are inclined to

By damning those they have no mind to.

But, says a lover of the soothing weed, "If to harmonise the feelings, to allow the thoughts to spring without control; if to impart that sober sadness o'er the spirit which inclines us to forgive our enemy, that calm philosophy that reconciles us to the ingratitude and knavery of the world, that heavenly contemplation whispering to us as we look around that all is good; if these be merits, they are thine, most potent weed."

But to my story. The evening wore on; the torrent rushed past more dark and impetuous; no one appeared; and as it was evident, if I remained much longer in the same situation, that I should be drowned in the night, I plunged into the water, and was borne down by the torrent, receiving, en route, the most violent thumps from the rocks for having so unceremoniously intruded amongst them. The water was cold, my swimming of little avail; I was hurrying apparently to that

Dread bourne from whence no traveller returns.

But my passport not being en règle, I was in no hurry to get there. I struggled hard for dear life, when providentially my progress was arrested by a large rock, by which I gained the shore, a wetter-I hope a better -man. I was almost exhausted. The veins of my temples were swollen like cords, my clothes all tattered and torn, my hat, cloak, staff, and other appointments gone. My watch had stopped, and the bank notes in my pocket were reduced to pap. But these were trifles not worthy of a moment's consideration; my life had been mercifully spared. I was obliged, when I reached the hotel, to put my arm round the girl's waist to enable me to get up stairs. I once heard my worthy father say that he attributed my extreme distaste to water in an undiluted state entirely to the overdose I had of it on this occasion.

Oh! beware of the Gave, for the river is deep,
The stream it is rapid, the rocks they are steep;
The sky though unclouded, the landscape tho' fair,
Trust not to the current, for death may be there.

On leaving Ga Bas we turned up a steep mule-path to the left, which conducted us through a country more wild and savage than the valley we had left. The trees, principally firs, were considerably larger. I think I never saw mountains more beautifully wooded; and how dark and frowning they looked! The white marble for which the Pyrenees are famous, here and there peeping out of the foliage, had also a striking effect, while the cascades, though small, added much to the beauty of the whole. We met a chasseur with his rifle slung behind his back, who told us he had seen a bear of large size, but could not get a shot at him. Sometimes we passed flocks of pretty-looking sheep, with fine fleeces, long faces, and curled horns. They were very tame, and always accompanied by a large white dog, peculiar to the Pyrenees, not very unlike the Mont St. Bernard dog.

The guide called our attention to the destructive effects of the previous winter's avalanches, which had in some instances not only cleared away the trees in a direct line from the top of the mountain to its base, but had actually forced them a considerable way up on the opposite side of the vale.

The traces of desolating tempests all around, the gloomy aspect of the pine-clad heights, the roll of distant thunder reverberating amongst the hills, succeeded often by a dismal calm, had an imposing effect; while the groups of Spaniards-fine, commanding-looking men-occasionally seen defiling down the heights, in their picturesque costume, their feet in mocassins, or sandals, cross-gartered to the knee, a long and rather murderous-looking knife stuck in a crimson sash round the waist, gave a dramatic character to scenes which were well calculated in other respects to make a lasting impression on the mind.

It was late in the afternoon when we reached a solitary dwelling in the wilderness yclept the Case de Brossette, where we resolved to pass the night. But it was not the sort of house that one would have slept at from choice, especially if travelling alone. There was not a single window of glass, the light being admitted through large holes in the walls, so that when the heavy shutters were closed, to screen us from the weather, we sat almost in darkness, and blinking like two owls. Then what was given us for dinner so much resembled a cat stewed in garlic, that we paused in doubt. I requested the parson to ask a blessing, but he insisted upon knowing, in the first instance, what the animal had been when alive, and if it was meet that we should eat it.

"Monsieur," replied the bland host, "vous aimez les bons morceaux, n'est-ce pas ?"

"Les bons morceaux," said the parson, who understood a little French, though not sufficient to prevent his swearing in English. "Devil take you and your tid bits-allez vous-en."

I therefore fried a piece of raw meet over the kitchen tongs, morally reflecting the while, that in our journey through life our happiness in a great degree depends upon ourselves, and that it is the wisest plan to look

on the sunny side of circumstances, for if it rains to-day, it is the more likely to be fine to-morrow.

The room we slept in was a combination of pigstye and bedchamber, while the pig and her numerous family, who occupied the whole of the Rez-de-Chaussée, were so noisy, that even as I dozed, I seemed to recognise a familiar melody-"Little pigs lie," &c.-with a chorus of grunting to each stanza.

I was aroused on hearing a stealthy step in the room. I had just previously had a slight attack of nightmare, and still under the influence of fear I rushed violently out of bed, overturning in my haste the parson, who at the same instant let fall from his hand some heavy utensil with a smash loud enough to awaken the seven sleepers. After mutual explanations and recriminations we once more sought repose.

At break of day we resumed our travels. The parson having no cape, bought a sack to place over his shoulders. The ascent of the mountain was very laborious-all nature lay before us bare and bleak-there was not a leaf to be seen-eagles were constantly soaring over our heads, and as the clouds rolled away beneath us, we caught hasty glimpses of ravines of great depth and beauty.

Soon after crossing the frontier, we came upon a mud hut, in which were several douaniers armed to the teeth, and who looked more like bandits in a melodrama. They demanded to see our passports. The parson's was not en règle, and he was told he could not enter Spain; but on my reminding him of the proverb that "An ass laden with gold will enter the gates of the strongest city," he handed a few francs to the chief, which cleared up all difficulties in a moment.

I am glad to find they are about to abolish these tiresome passports in France, and heartily hope other countries will follow the example.

Should once the world resolve to abolish

All that's ridiculous and foolish,
It would have nothing left to do
To apply in jest or earnest to.

At half-past nine we reached the Spanish village of Salient, remarkable for its extreme filthiness, and the apparent inactivity of the people. As we entered the hotel at one door, two immense hogs rushed out at the other.

Everything they offered us was so flavoured with garlic, that we could not touch it. The whole affair was intensely dirty.

THE FRANCHISEMENT OF WOMEN.

A LETTER FROM MISS CONSTANCE AGATHA OGILVY TO MISS ANGELINA FORTESCUE WEBB.

DEAREST ANGELINA,-Since the glorious never-to-be-forgotten 13th of February, of blessed memory and of this year, when that good and excellent pillar of our peerage and senate, the great Earl of Carlisle, presented a memorial to the House, signed by three hundred free, independent, and enlightened females of the borough of Sheffield, praying for the reversion of their position, rights, and privileges, I am sincerely happy to say our cause has been going on silently, slowly, but surely. That year, which has produced the noblest structure of the power and ingenuity of man in the Palace of Peace of all Nations; when Wellington and Paxton have met and shook each other by the hand; when Mede and Seythian, Gaul and Saxon, Celt and Barbarian, have met in the bond of friendship and good fellowship-that year, I say, shall witness a still more glorious issue, a still more startling fact-namely, the regeneration of women by WOMEN themselves! You may fancy I am led away by my subject; that where I have thrown in my heart I have thrown in my mind likewise; that I ride my hobby-horse madly over the stones, utterly regardless of Mr. Hardwick, Colonel Maine, or the whole posse of the police force? Dearest Angelina, you are in error; the end will show far otherwise. Ex. gr., allow me to ask what was the commencement of reform? A Will-o'-the-wisp. Of Whiggism? A chimera. Of Catholic Emancipation? An Irish hullaballu. Of Free Trade? A laughing-stock; or, as its originator called it himself, "rubbish." What were the originators of steam, mesmerism, the electric telegraph, or the Crystal Palace, called by the common herd? Why, madmen. The people crying aloud for a second Hippocrates to cure a modern Democritus. And have not each of these glorious triumphs of the creature's mind ridden over their vile slanderers and opponents, and crushed each contending atom that east itself in their course? And, as sure as this is black upon a white ground, so sure are we of the franchisement of women. Our daily course is onwards; public tendency is onwards; England is onwards. Ay, even her niece America, with its soap and its one big boot, is onwards; which they "calculate" by the word "go-a-head." Apropos to America, what do our friends mean there by so far debasing our characters and sex by such a bold effrontery as to wear those things we never mention? How can women -lovely women, lady editoresses of papers even-those glorious lights of a constitution, and bulwarks of a nation-so far forget themselves as to assume the fashions of our tyrannical lords and masters! Was not such an act, a byword thrown in our teeth with a sneer by man, synonymous to the aphorism, "the grey mare is the better horse?" Good Heavens, Aggy! of what can they be thinking? Faugh! I can write no more— I plunge my pen into gall and bitterness. I tuck up my sleeves for the task; I pull down my mob cap, as a barrister does his wig; I invoke the powers, but recommence my subject. "The harp of the north, that mouldering long has hung," must be again strung to deeds of Border