the stony ruts of the Bourdeaux road, was therefore again fitted up, on the presumption that it might hold together as far as Basil; where it would be no longer wanted: for post horses are not to be had in Switzerland; and it is next to impossible to convey a carriage over the Alps.

On the 17th. of July we set out from our gay lodgings, on the Boulevards de Paris, for Rome-perhaps for Naples. An excursion which my dear B― had promised herself, in youthful reveries, however unlikely to have been realized by the Daughter of a Jersey Farmer.*

We

In America the word Farmer does not indicate the Tenant of a Manor-under the control of a Landlord or his Bailiff: but an independent Yeoman that cultivates his own grounds-keeps a hospitable table-may be in the commiffion of the peace-and occafionally reprefents his County in the Affembly of the State.

We drove off, full tilt, a la mode de France; and, having happily missed running over any body in the crowded Rue St. Denis, or upon the busy Pont Neuf, we rattled along the pavé toward Fontainebleau, at a rate that would infallibly have lodged us there that night.-But French carriages, French roads, and French Post Boys, conspire against expedition; and our rapid career would have come to a full stop at the first village on the road, if an honest Wheel-wright had not, in pure compassion, furnished les Voyageurs Etrangers with a pair of old shafts-at double the price of new ones; our own having completely gone to pieces, though repaired but the day before, by one of the first Coachmakers in Paris.

At

At the second town a disinterested Blacksmith, who gave his advice like a friend, persuaded me to let him put a clamp upon the tire of one of the wheelsAt the third, à Brother of the trade convinced me it would be better to take it off again.

By this time it was almost night, and, being now sufficiently humbled by repeated vexations, we were glad to take up with meaner lodgings than might have been expected in the neighbourhood of a Palace.

Next day however we reached Fontainebleau, time enough to ramble in the Royal gardens. They were planted by Francis the First (the rival of Harry the Eighth at tilt and tourney) in

quincunxes

quincunxes and rhomboids-labyrinths and parterres. But the alleys and the fish ponds were over-run with weeds and rushes-grass was growing upon the steps of the porch, so late the gay resort of pomp and pleasure; and we did not care to subject ourselves, as we had once done at Versailles to the refusal of the surly Republican that guarded the folding doors of the Chateau. One of its apartments, in days of yore, was nobly ornamented with branching antlers-the triumphs of the chase; and another was hung with portraits of the peerless Damsels at whose feet, in a romantic Age, they had been courteously laid. But alas! as Burke says, the days of Chivalry are gone forever.

On

On our return to the Inn the Argas of the road had discovered that the crane neck of our carriage was cracked across.

For a couple of crowns he made it ex

actly strong enough to hold together to the next town, where we arrived early in the day but not before the Blacksmiths of the place were looking out for the custom which the Post Boys are sure to bring them, by driving helter-skelter over roads paved with stone.

They readily found a flaw in the new work; but I could not-or would not believe them, though they now spoke the truth; and we drove on till the slender clamps would hold together no longer. When I perceived that the carriage began to settle, it was with difficulty that I could arrest the gay career of the Garçon de

poste