city, embellished with classical relics, and uniting
most of the advantages of town and country, and are well satisfied
without the campagne which a rich Lyonnais, carrying on his business in
a close town, considers as his paradise. Although this system of "rus in
urbe" gives but a mean and poor appearance to the environs of a town, it
produces much pleasure and convenience to such resident strangers as can
enjoy the society of Nismes, which, by all accounts, must somewhat
resemble sleeping in Exeter 'Change, the keepers, in the shape of a
strong preventive force of military, on the alert, it is true, and the
bars are well secured, but the beasts only watch their opportunity to
tear each other to pieces. How an Englishman would fare in a public
disturbance is difficult to say. It is probable that the Catholics would
abominate him as a heretic, and the Protestants denounce him as an
anti-Buonapartist, and that he would consequently be thrust from the one
to the other, like a new comer between two roguish school-boys. This,
however, was no concern of ours, as we left Nismes the next morning on
the road to Beaucaire. The old Pharos was the last landmark we took
leave of, as it was the first of which we caught sight. It contrasts
with the Maison Carree as a wild legend of the dark ages would with a
letter of Pliny; and though rough in its fabric, and uncertain in its
history, dwells as strongly on the recollection as that highly-finished
gem.

"The tower by war or tempest bent,
While yet may frown one battlement,
Demands and daunts the stranger's eye,
Each ivied arch and pillar lone
Pleads haughtily for glories gone!"

CHAP. IX.

TARASCON--BEAUCAIRE--ST. REMY--ORGON--LAMBESC.

TO Tarascon 19 miles of road for the most part bad and sandy. I am not
geologist enough to decide with accuracy on the formation of that part
of the banks of the Rhone which we were approaching, but the detached
specimens of rock are of a curious nature. After passing a little
village called St. Vincent, we came to an open plain, bounded in front
by several singular round hills on the summit of one of which, called
the Roche Duclay, was a rock so exactly resembling an old castle in size
and shape, that a nearer inspection alone satisfied us as to its real
nature. There is also a great singularity of outline in the hills which
became soon visible in the distance on the other side of the Rhone, one
or two of which appe