love, has, by the sordid wickedness of man, been
perverted into a paradise of the Prince of Darkness, who, knowing too
well the weakness and folly of poor erring humanity, lures by every
artificial attraction and fascination even the poor pilgrim invalid, who
hopefully journeys here to breathe the pure fresh air and to recover
health; and also does his best to complete the moral degradation of the
less innocent but infatuated gambler, who stakes his life upon the cast
of a die and rushes madly and miserably to unutterable ruin.

I have already mentioned the plantations of olive trees we passed in our
drive on the cliffs. Nothing strikes one more singularly, in coming to
this part of the world, than the contrast in appearance between the
olive tree and the rich, luxuriant foliage of the orange, lemon, myrtle,
and other beautiful vegetation so prolific here. Toward evening
especially, the gnarled and twisted olive has a strangely sad and sombre
effect, with its long, pointed leaves of dull green lined with a chilly
pale tint--as it were, a thing of a past period in the earth's
existence, ancient and venerable, almost sacred, and little in harmony
with the gay, luxuriant vegetable life around. I think nothing
describes better its cold sombre aspect than the remark Marianne Hunt
made to her husband during their first unfortunate visit to Italy. "They
look," she said, "as if they were always standing in the moonlight."
And, indeed, this is just the effect they have, as though having been
once lighted on by Cynthia's cold, chaste glance, they had ever remained
petrified and blanched. Still, there is much grace and beauty in the
outlines of olive trees against a sunlit, blue-grey sky, the silver
tints of their leaves quivering in the light.

It was interesting to watch a procession of caterpillars on the road to
Monte Carlo, a distance of about a mile. They were moving from one part
to another, probably because there was disease amongst them, or else in
the trees in that neighbourhood, for there were many dead ones lying
about. They advanced in one long line, following their leader, the head
of the second joining the tail of the first, and so on. There were more
than a hundred in a chain, a company of ten coming to join them, and
large masses waiting in different parts of the road, and taking their
places one by one as the procession approached. They looked like a long,
thin snake. The marvellous instinct of these small insec