travel, ten now give the world the benefit of their experience, for one that did so then. In fact, steam now does for the body what the electric current does for thought, and mankind is becoming a peregrinating animal. The number of such works that lie before us is not a little perplexing. It seems to us as if we were diurnally called upon to perform the voyage of the world, and in our desperation we sometimes feel an insane desire to ignore the subject altogether and disbelieve the locomotive faculties of humanity. In our perplexity the other day, we selected from a mass of such books lying before us a work which had two especial commendations externally; it was in one volume, and that volume was of reasonable dimensions, and so we addressed ourselves to the "Border Lands of Spain and France," more especially as the book promised us some account of that singular republic which in the fastnesses of the Pyrenees, has for a thousand years contrived to maintain its independence and integrity, alike against France and Spain. We allude to the republic of Andorre.

The author of the volume under our consideration, whoever he be-for he does not affix his name--is a man of the right stuff to make travellers of sagacious, reflective, and quick-sighted he has an eye for natural beauties-a heart for the contemplation of humanity, and a mind ready to philosophise upon the various phases of society through which he passes. Such a man can never travel from Dan to Beersheba, and cry, "all is barren."

Through a great portion of our author's autumn tour we do not mean to conduct our readers. The paths about the baths of the Pyrenees

are as beaten and as well known as the highways that lead to Homburg or Spa or Weisbaden-nay, we had almost said, as the thoroughfares of Holborn or Ludgate Hill. There you meet daily the same men of broken down fortunes and broken down frames-adventurers and invalids-fanfarons and far-nientis, hawks and pigeons, pluckers and plucked, saints and sinners, wise men and fools, that you meet at every congregation of the human species, which, by some mysterious law of our nature, are al

ways drawn together around springs of medicinal water and strands for sea bathing. In the Basque provinces there is much to engage the attention of a thoughtful man; they are interesting as having been the haunt of a political liberty sanctioned by immemorial tradition, and now almost unknown to the races of Europe. We have in this volume some very intelligent observations upon the religious and political characteristics of the people of these provinces-their habits of life and social peculiarities—which will alternately amuse and surprise an inhabitant of the British islands. The author gives us these concluding observations:

The nearest existing example, perhaps, to the privileges of the Basques, is to be found in the modern Constitution of Servia. The suzerainete of the Porte, and that of the Escurial, proceed alike from the imperfect rule, and consequently imperfect centralization, of a comparatively modern or dominant race or dynasty. The central power forms, in either, the protector of the local government from external aggression; and the local government, in turn, becomes, in either, its own protector against the central power. If national rights are more clearly defined in Servia, they are more ancient and venerable in the Basque provinces. It is only by a jealous maintenance of traditionary privileges, in respect of their central government, that insignificant nationalities can ensure the durability of their political rights; as it is only by a recognition of the suzerainete of that central government that they can ensure their political rights, in respect of external aggression. And so uniform is man's political nature in all periods of the world, that protectorial rights are essential to the security of small communities in this civilized age, as when they were devised in counterpoise to the violence of feudal times.

Having visited the Bearnais, including the lowlauders and the moun

taineers of the Eastern district of the Basses Pyrenees, the author gives us a very lively sketch of the language, manners, and superstitions of this primitive people. The dialect is a compound of Latin and Teutonic, without the slightest admixture of French, Spanish, or any other modern tongue to aid the stranger in his attempt to become intelligible. Nevertheless our traveller essayed to learn somewhat, with what success let him relate :

I passed an old ruined tower, built on

nets

knoll, guarding the ravine on which it stood, and apparently the work of the PlantageBeside it was an old Béarnais woman (nearly coeval with the ruin), gathering up sticks or stones, and generally seeking what she might devour. I asked her in French the legend of the place, intending to believe it, if not violently opposed to all internal probability. She answered me in Béarnais with, very likely, a begging imposition. Neither understood the other; and there was as complete a confusion of tongues before the tower as before the tower of Bobel !

Amongst the people who inhabit the border lands of Spain and France there are few, who, in their national and social characteristics, are objects of greater interest and research for the antiquary or the historian than those who are known by the name of Cagots, and who are scattered in the villages and valleys of the Pyrenees, but still a distinct race. In past times proscribed by the church and the state, debarred by the social prejudice of their neighbours from the enjoyments and privileges which other Christian and free subjects were entitled to, their origin and history even at this day involved in deep obscurity and uncertainty, this singular people present a problem which has engrossed the attention and perplexed the speculations of philosophers. The principal settlements of the Cagots, in the neighbourhood of Bagneres, are Montgaillard and Campain, and both these villages the author visited. Several theories still obtain with regard to the origin of the Cagots. Some hold that they are the descendants of the Goths who invaded Aquitaine in the fifth century, and of the survivors of those who were defeated by Clovis in the battle of Vanillé. Others again allege that they are sprung from the remnant of the Arabs defeated by Charles Martel at Poictiers, in the eighth century. A third, that they owe their origin to the Albigenses who were dispersed in the twelfth century. But besides these conjectures there are not wanting those who insist on their descent from the leprous Christians who returned from the Crusades, or even from the Jews. All these historical positions the author of the book before us investigates and combats with much learning and considerable plausibility, substituting finally his own theory in

their place. The condition of the Cagots is, however, very different from what it was some generations since. This in a great degree arises, we should imagine, from a breaking up, by frequent intermarriages with their neighbours, of that isolation which hemmed them in, as well as by the relaxation of that religious intolerance by which they were fro scribed. Some idea of the harsh ecclesiastical discipline to which, as a heretical, and spiritually if not physically leprous race, they were subjected, will be found from the following statement of their condition at Montgaillard:-

The Cagots had been invariably denied the rights of worship and of sepulture with other Christians. A distinct portion of the churchyard had been assigned to them; and here, wherever certain families could be still recognised as distinctively Cagots, they were still interred. This race, although not forbidden from attending the services of the Church, were formerly separated from the rest of the congregation, and were compelled to enter the building by a side-door. The door, a small and insignificant entrance, is placed beneath the belfry; and in the inner porch, into which it opens, is still a stone receptacle for holy water. This circumstance serves to shed some light on the religious position of the Cagots; for there appears to be little doubt that, while they were thus admitted to the benefit of the holy water, they were generally excluded from the reception of the sacraments.

These severities and proscriptions now happily no longer exist, and the Cagots indiscriminately mingle with the rest of the Christian congregation, and as freely participate in all the privileges of the church. Still, the traces of what they have suffered under the civil and ecclesiastical powers are to be found in the race at the present day, if we are to credit our author's description :

They seemed as though they groaned under the superincumbent moral weight of a persecution of a thousand years. They were low in stature, not perhaps grossly deformed in person, but their figures, nevertheless, unlike other human beings; weak and tottering (though not apparently of great age), as if their joints had been lately loosened under the kindly influence of the Inquisition. Their complexions were sallow in the last degree; and their appearance bore out their reputation of being of weak intellect This character, I was told, had for many years

The ascent of the Maladetta is now not altogether impracticable to those who are able to encounter great exertion, and who do not object to be put into harness, and to be driven in a team by a trio of mountaineers. The danger rests, of course, in the insidious nature of the snow-drifts, which are not less hazardous than Irish bogs. Those, therefore, who wish to climb the mountain, are compelled to wait (like the constituent elements of an Oriental caravan at the edge of the Desert) until an adequate number of candidates for the enterprise has accumulated, either at Luchon or at some less hospitable hospice at the edge of the mountains; when all these unfortunates are strapped together into a vertical column, in single file, and are marched up the snowy ascent, charging the glaciers on their route. The object of all this is obvious enough. If the leaders should fall in, the wheelers, to whom they are attached, pull them out. The whole team is kept in a right line, and by this means goes over the same ground. There is no such artificial facility for the ascent of the Maladetta as exists for the ascent of Mont Blanc: it is a far less beaten route, and, I should be disposed to think, a more hazardous experi

ment.

To the weak (or to those of ordinary -strength, whose powers fail to satisfy the exertion demanded for the enterprise), the

alternative," Go on, or perish," must be anything but agreeable. No doubt the stronger help to drag the weaker out of the difficulty; but it would seem hard under such circumstances to choose between being dragged involuntarily over endless regions of eternal ice, and being chained there stationery like Prometheus for ever and a-day.

From this scenery the author returned to Luchon, and then passed along the French frontier into Ariege, and subsequently crossing the Spanish frontier he visited the mountain regions of Western Catalonia. Here is a lively description of a storm which he encountered in his descent from Mount Collat, in company with a Cockney Englishman, whom he picked up en route, and whom he compares to an unfortunate hippopotamus that had accidentally swam out of the Nile, and had lost its way in the watery wilderness of the Levant :

At the most difficult and precipitous point, the clouds descended to the earth; and the view before us, just now spreading over the boundless highlands of Catalonia, barely extended to our horses' heads. It was a startling novelty to be carried over the mountains by animals to all appearance destitute both of heads and tails! We were summarily brought to a dead halt, and nothing but the closest possible proximity prevented us from being utterly lost to each other. But the clouds went onward on their sublime, ethereal way; and the lurid light of an autumn sun, struggling with dark thunder-clouds above, once more disclosed the course before us.

The deluge and the torrent, however, were close at hand: down they came simultaneously from the heavens and from the mountaintops: the wind roared amid the pine-woods, and swept down the rock-clefts with its hideous howl: the crashing of the thunder shook the very mountains to their base: the lightning transformed the sombre fir-forests into fiery groves; the new-born cataract swept over the verdure of the hill-sides; solitary trees that had survived the seventy years of man, snapped in their very trunks, were hurled down the precipice in the sport of the whirlwind; and the dissolved mists mingling with the dark substance of the soil, discharged down the precipices torrents of liquid coal! It was beneath the shelter of rocks alone that we could proceed; and even by their sides we were nearly blown off our horses' backs. The storm lasted nearly two hours. Ere its close, our track had become almost impassable. The surcharged waters of the Essera burst on every side around us; and paths gave place to cataracts. We were at last forced to dismount and climb the rocks

forming the debris from the enormous ridge which lay above us. The horses climbed after us as they could; more than once rolling on their sides. At length we reached less unThe even ground, and a commanding view. storm had spent itself, the wind was hushed; and the dark thunder-scroll was rolled back We were over one-half of the angry heaven.

on the boundary of the two empires. To our left lay the dark plains of Catalonia, still in all their wild and murky gloom: to the right, quivering in the brilliant glare of an autumnal sun, were spread before us the rich and golden vales of Ariège.

It would seem that the author had the good fortune-for we esteem it a good fortune for every traveller—to fall into the midst of a band of mountain robbers; and he details with much circumstantiality, and we hope with a reasonable regard to veracity, his perilous position, and the address with which he extricated himself from his danger, when escape seemed little short of a miracle. We own to much scepticism in general upon the subject of these romantic adventures; and, for ourselves, we can say that though always most desirous of falling in with a solitary robber or cut-throat-we rather believe we should have preferred a single specimen at a time

-we never

had the happiness, either upon mountain or in valley, to succeed; and travelled many a solitary pass, without guide or companion, without so much as having our pocket picked, to say nothing of a clasp-knife sheathed in our smaller intestines. Nevertheless, we deny no man's better luck or happier experiences, so let our traveller enjoy the honour of his adventure, seeing that he has lived to tell it.

Upon the French side of the Pyrenees, and in the territory of Cerdagne and Roussillon, exists a very singular people. In the midst of the progress and civilization, which for centuries have been going on northward of them, they seem to cling to old thoughts, old customs, old institutions; and if one has a desire to go back the stream of time, not indeed in books but in the body, he has but to visit these lovely regions and he will find himself in the medieval times, both as regards character and imagination. What will the reader think of a land in which the old miracle plays are still in the height of fashion-where, upon Sunday and

saint's day, one can assist at those ancient and now traditional mysteries which were the origin of our modern drama. We may observe, however, that there are some points of difference between the celebration of these mysteries to-day in Roussillon and as they were enacted in Italy or Germany in the middle ages and in the time of the Trouvères. They now embrace a shorter period of dramatic action, seldom exceeding a few hours, though occasionally adjourned from Sunday to Sunday; and they no longer represent heaven, earth, and hell by the triple scoffolding or stages --a very significant mode of suggesting the respective altitudes of these localities, according to the popular topographical ideas in old times—and we are disposed to think in modern times, too-extensively prevalent. Our author was present at some of these representations. Here is his account of one of them. We must premise that the stage was raised to an elevation midway between the platform, occupied by the elite of the place, and the benches and tables designed to accommodate the inferior portion of the community. The light of day-for the performance was, of course, in the day-time-was dimly admitted through coloured curtains, and a depiction on canvass of the three worlds supplied the place of the me dieval scaffolding.

Never was any drama a more complete practical protest against the doctrine of dramatical Unity of Place (except so far as scenic arrangement was concerned); for the play which was acted on the occasion of my visit began with the creation of the world; and after comprehending, in theory or in re presentation, the principal events of the first four thousand years, concluded with our Saviour's pilgrimage upon earth! Paradise was, by a figure of speech, the first scene of the first act. There was Adam and Eve, at first the solitary dramatis persona,—then came the animals (by a gentle anachronism)

pawing to get free." Then came the tempting evil spirit, and finally the expelling and avenging angel. But, by a grotesque perversion, the former was represented by a fair woman, and the latter by a dark and bearded man, burnt apparently from immemo rial time by the fierceness of a Roussillon sun.

When, in process of time, the play arrived at the deluge, the voyage of the Ark was supposed; much as the triple voyage from Thessaly to Euboea is supposed in the Tra chiniæ. This, in fact, was a happy arrange.

ment for the denizens of the pit, under the circumstance of the elevation of the stage, and of the inconvenient laws of watery gravitation. Then came the pilgrimages of the Patriarchs-then the Egyptian plagues.

The wanderings in the Desert followed; and the Jewish kingdom at length was presented upon the stage. The costume of the actors nearly killed one with laughing; and the grandest attire that was then common in Catalonia was held to be the presumptive fashion of ancient Jerusalem. The actors, too, were often wont to adorn themselves with gilt buckles and gilt buttons; and they occasionally appeared with their hair powdered in a manner which would have rendered it a mercy to the drama if Mr. Pitt's hair-powder tax had extended to Cerdagne and Roussillon.

Then followed the representation of the principal events in the life of the Redeemer. The introduction of such scenes must necessarily shock the feelings of Englishmen; yet we should not, perhaps, stigmatize them as profanity, upon a candid consideration of the genius of that form of continental worship which addresses itself so much to the senses, especially of the lower and more ignorant grades of society. And, indeed, we learn from the pages before us, that during the representation of this part of the drama the attitude of the audience was uniformly serious and attentive. What in fact, from its novelty, might to an English spectator or auditor be either revolting or ridiculous, habit rendered to the simple and superstitious people an exhibition, solemn, tragic, and instructive. To complete the medieval character of the whole performance, the miracle-play was succeeded by a comedy; thus forcibly reminding us of those jolly old fellows of the middle ages, "the clerks of the revels," as the tragedy recalls to our recollection

the venerable "Fraternity of the Passion."

So far as to regions that have been more or less visited by travellers who journey from France into Spain through the passes of the Pyrenees. We shall now avail ourselves of the author's experiences in his visit to a district which we believe but few Englishmen have ever entered, and of which, so far as we are aware, no account has heretofore existed in our language. And yet this is an ancient commonwealth-nearly as ancient a state as any now existing in Europe. It is only in mountain fastnesses that

such a political phenomenon could exist as a state, which, too small and too poor to stimulate the cupidity of neighbouring nations-too weak to excite their apprehensions, and too inaccessible to interfere with their political views-a locality which, from its position, difficult to conquer and to hold, and when conquered, not worth the holding-is therefore left to manage its own affairs as best it may. And thus it has happened to Andorre, as it has happened to another mountain-girdled republic in Italy-San Marino,-that it continues in its integrity through all surrounding changes. Despite of the state of periodical revolutions, which has become well nigh a chronic disease in its northern neighbour France, and the perpetual political troubles and changes which make the monarchical state of its southern neighbour Spain as anarchical and unstable as dynastic revolutions could make her-despite of all these, it is a truly wonderful thing to see this little republic to-day nearly what it was in the ninth century-governed by its old traditional laws, and enjoying its rude freedom, and presenting nearly the identical form of government which it enjoyed in the days of Charlemagne and Louis le Debonnaire. Still, if there be no change, there can be no progress, and we must, of course, expect that whatever liberty and conservative stability this little place may boast, these blessings must be dearly purchased by the very primitive condition, both as regards civilization and literature, in which its people must be, as it were, held motionless. And indeed it is very manifest, that throughout our author's details of his intercourse with the distinguished members of the Andorrian Republic, there runs an under-current of satirical humour and mockery that indicates he looked upon the people much in the same light that he would contemplate a tribe of savages in central Africa or in one of the Polynesia.

There are three routes that lead to Andorre. That which leads to it by the baths in Ariège was selected; and after a somewhat iudicrous discussion with the douanier at the frontier, the author finds himself entering the little state. The first aspect was certainly not very promising. "On either side a waste wilderness, alter