t
nobility and glory, and of the generous sympathy felt for her--perhaps
most unselfishly so by England. I think we are justified in feeling a
greater sympathy for Italy than for France, for I believe she truly
reciprocates it; while the French show towards us a dislike almost
verging on jealous antipathy, while in themselves they are entirely
given to frivolity and caprice--a hopeless scepticism and impudent
immorality: their naturally great powers seem exclusively devoted to
selfish objects, and the worship of Fashion and Pleasure!

CHAPTER XXVI.

From Modane to Paris--Lovely scenery--St. Michel--St. Jean de Maurienne
--Epierre--Paris--Notre Dame--French immorality--La Manche--"Dear old
foggy London"--Reflections and conclusion.

After a thorough examination of our luggage by the French authorities,
we leave Modane for Paris, a very powerful engine taking us in tow. At
Modane the scenery is very grand: fine waterfalls, rocky mountains with
great pine forests, and their slopes sometimes enlivened by the pink
blossom of the almond tree--a capital place for Alpine climbers.

In consequence of the immense masses of loose overhanging rock, we had
to advance slowly and cautiously, and we frequently looked up with some
dread lest they should fall upon and utterly crush us. It was
interesting to see the congealed waterfalls among the fir-crowned
heights above, and some of the great romantic ravines filled with masses
of frost-bound snow; while here and there we came upon small wooden
crosses, marking the grave of some too adventurous climber or poor
peasant guide. By-and-by we pass through a series of short tunnels,
great care being necessary, as works are constantly going on to support
the weight of the great mountain boulders and to prevent the tunnels
falling in; for the water drainage saturates and loosens the masonry.
One now obtains some idea of the enormous expenses of the line, and the
difficulties contended with it. Descending, we lose for a time the
snow-clad hills, which have been our companions for so long; the
rivulets join and increase to a rushing, tumbling stream, following
madly after us, until we stop at St. Michel, the first station after
leaving Modane. Here a great mountain close to us completely covered
with snow rendered the air around intensely cold. Continuing our route
down into the valley, still accompanied by the lively, chattering
stream, now widening into