c une curiosite avide ces roches
eternelles et ces grottes mysterieuses qui furent les temoins discrets
de leurs peines et de leurs plaisirs. On se reporte a ces temps
recules ou ces amants venaient dans cette solitude enchanteresse, se
confier mutuellement leur vifs inquietudes; on croit les voir s'egarer
sous ces riants ombrages, et s'abandonner a toutes les inspirations de
l'eloquence, a toutes les illusions de l'amour".

I arrived at Clisson just as the sun was disappearing, and its rays
were only sufficiently strong to reflect the ruined towers of the
Castle in the river which runs at its foot. It will be much easier
to imagine, than for me to convey the sensations I felt when I first
caught a glimpse of it, with the story of La Roche-Jaquelin full in
my recollection! I alighted at a small cabaret, dignified by the
appellation of the Hotel de la Providence, which seemed preferable to
another recommended to me by my guide,--such an one, indeed, as might
be expected in a remote place like this: part of the roof was off,
and, like most of the houses in the place, bore evident marks of the
desolating war that had been carried on here: many are still in ruins.
The descent into the town is very steep and rugged, the road being
formed out of the solid rock. The master of the cabaret was sitting
with his family at the door, but the appearance of his mansion was so
unpromising, that I thought it best to make some agreement, and a few
inquiries before dismounting;--these preliminaries being settled, and
having consented to pay him fifty sous for supper and my bed, and
thirty for breakfast, I entered the house: and never recollect having
a keener relish for a meal, or enjoying one more heartily, for I had
been sixteen hours on horseback.

Fatigued and exhausted as I was, I rambled after dinner towards the
delightful grounds of La Garenne, belonging to Monsieur La Motte, who
has embellished them in a most interesting and romantic manner.

The river Sevres runs along the side, and separates them from the fine
old Castle of Clisson, whose high and decaying towers and battlements
give the beholder a noble idea of its ancient grandeur. The evening
was a very fine one,--one of those delightful soft, clear skies usual
at this season, the latter end of July. I sat myself down in the
grotto of Heloise,--a spot of the deepest seclusion, formed, by the
hand of Nature, of large masses of granite. The nightingales were
singing in the l