nsible of his own misery. The anguish
therefore which humanity feels at the sight of such an object, cannot be
the reflection of any sentiment of the sufferer. The compassion of the
spectator must arise altogether from the consideration of what he would
himself feel if he were reduced to the same situation, and, what perhaps
is impossible, were at the same time able to regard it with his present
reason and judgment.]

The admirers of show houses, may find some gratification in visiting the
hotel of M. De Leutre, the banker; which was purchased of M. Villeneuve,
an emigre, and contains, besides the usual etceteras of carving and
gilding, orange-trees, and gold fish, a curious collection of prints
representing Chinese battles, and supposed to be the only perfect
duplicate of that in the royal collection. A sight more interesting is
presented in the hospital of invalid soldiers, established in the place;
1500 of whom are maintained as in-pensioners, apparently in great
comfort. "On est bien ici," said a blind veteran, who, hearing the
voices of strangers, invited us to walk in; and indeed most of those
whom we saw strolling in the garden, or sitting under the shade of the
trees, seemed very cheerful, though some of them, and those very young
men, were dreadfully mutilated, and the loss of both legs very common.
The two buildings which accommodate them were formerly the Convent des
Celestins, and that of the Dames de St. Louis. Two other handsome
convents have been converted to uses less beneficent, one being now a
gunpowder manufactory, and the other a cannon foundery.

In the evening we walked across the long wooden bridge adjoining our
hotel,[31] towards the western bank of the Rhone; and the expectations
which we had formed of the view from this quarter, were not
disappointed. The Roche Don terminates more abruptly on the side of the
river than in any other part, and in a manner which sets off strikingly
the commanding height of the legate's palace. With this princely pile of
building, the broken Gothic bridge and its guard-house, the ancient
palace of the archbishop, and a portion of the battlemented walls of
Avignon, combine to form a striking architectural group, whose unity of
character is hardly at all broken by meaner objects; and the whole is
well backed by Mont Ventou and the Dauphine Alps. From this spot we
again returned to Roche Don, a station to which every visitor of Avignon
may return twice or thrice in t