magnificent double avenues of trees at every entrance. A handsome stone bridge over the Aude, crowns and embellishes the spectacle.

ABBEY OF LA TRAPPE.

THE abbey of la Trappe, so named from the intricacy of the road that leads to it, is situated not far from Evreux and St. Maurice. On descending a hill near the latter village, the traveller suddenly finds himself at the skirts of a dark forest, which extends over an immense tract of country farther than the eye can reach. Here it becomes necessary to take a guide; for the path becomes so perplexed, that even they who are acquainted with it, are in perpetual danger of losing themselves. The whole of the way is inexpressibly dreary; it is diversified only by a few lone huts, or solitary dilapidated chapels; here and there, beneath the spreading trees, a few decaying crosses. The squirrels, hares and foxes, seem to possess the whole domain undisturbed.

After traversing these lonely roads for some hours, the trees grow thicker and more tangled; and soon a very thick wood, clothing the precipitate slope of a hill, presents itself to view. Here a most romantic prospect opens; hills of every varied form are seen, covered with forests, offering the most fanciful varieties of foliage and tint. On penetrating to the middle of this thicket, a little track is pointed out by the guide, if indeed, what scarcely exhibits the vestige of a human

step may be called by that name. A small mark here and there, upon particular trees, is the only direction; even these marks are so faint, that to all not aware of the circumstance, they would be nearly imperceptible. After pursuing this path for about three miles, through a maze of turnings and windings, and through every diversity of rise and fall, another opening in the wood is observed. The traveller then finds himself on the overhanging brow of a hill; the descent of which is clothed with wood, and so perpendicular as to appear impracticable, till he is conducted by the guide to a winding path concealed by the trees, and hollowed out of the side of the rock. It seems impossible to advance a step without falling headlong into the valley beneath.

The prospect is truly awful and striking. On all sides, nothing is visible but hills, rising one beyond the other, and completely covered with dark forests. These extend in endless continuity of solitude. An almost death-like silence and stillness reign all around. Directly below, but at a great depth, is a long and steep valley, so narrow, and so thickly wooded, as to be almost impervious to the rays of the sun.

This valley is interspersed with eleven lakes, the waters of which are completely stagnant, and their hue dark and dismal; these lakes connecting with one another in two circles, form a double moat about the monastery. In the middle of the day, the venerable edifice appears rising in the centre; in the morning and evening, the exhalations arising from the waters are so thick, that only its dark grey towers above the curling

vapour, or the deep tone of its bell, announces to the traveller that he has reached his journey's end. In descending the steep, through difficult and intricate paths, la Trappe disappears from the eye; nor is it seen emerging from the trees until the traveller has reached the bottom of the hill.

BEAUTY OF THE SOUTHERN SKY.

FROM the time we entered the torrid zone, says that most scientific and interesting traveller, Humboldt, we were never weary of admiring, night after night, the majestic beauty of the southern sky, which, as we advanced towards the south, presented new constellations to our view. We felt an indescribable sensation, when on approaching the equator, and particularly on passing from one hemisphere to the other, we saw those stars, which we had been accustomed to see from our infancy, progressively sink, and finally disappear. Nothing awakens in the traveller a livelier remembrance of the immense distance which separates him from his country, than the aspect of an unknown firmament. The grouping of stars of the first magnitude; scattered nebulæ, rivalling in splendour the milkyway; and tracks of space remarkable for their extreme blackness, give a peculiar physiognomy to the southern heavens. This spectacle fills with admiration even those who, uninstructed in the higher branches of accurate science, feel the

same emotions of delight in contemplating the heavenly vault, as in viewing a beautiful landscape. A traveller, without being a skilful botanist, may recognize the torrid zone in the mere aspect of its vegetation; and without any very deep knowledge of astronomy, he will feel that he is not in Europe, when he beholds the immense constellation of the ship, or the phosphorescent clouds of Magellan, arise on the horizon. The sky as well as the earth, in the equinoctial regions, assumes an exotic character. For several days the lower regions of the air were loaded with vapours; and not till we were in the sixteenth degree of south latitude, did we discern distinctly the southern cross: it was strongly inclined, and showed itself from time to time between the clouds; the centre of which, furrowed by uncondensed lightnings, reflected a silver light. The pleasure we experienced from discovering this constellation, was warmly shared by such of our companions as had lived in the South American colonies. Among the Spaniards and Portuguese, particular motives seem to increase this feeling; for a religious sentiment attaches them to a constellation, the form and name of which recal to mind the sign of the Christian faith, planted by their ancestors in the deserts of the new world. The two brilliant and large stars that mark the summit and the foot of the cross having nearly the same right ascension, it follows that the southern cross is almost perpendicular at the moment when it passes the meridian; this circumstance is known to all the inhabitants of the southern hemisphere. It has been observed at

what hour of the night, in different seasons, the cross is erect or inclined; and this is a time-piece which advances very regularly nearly four minutes a day, and no other group of stars exhibits to the unassisted eye an observation of time so easily made.

Often did we afterwards hear our guides in the savannas of Venezuela, or in the desert between Lima and Truxillo, exclaim, Midnight is passed, the cross begins to bend !

DESCRIPTION OF CUMANA AND ITS VICINITY.

FROM HUMBOLDT.

WE anchored opposite the mouth of the river Manzanares at break of day, but did not land till noon. Our eyes were fixed on groups of cocoa-trees that border the river, the trunks of which, more than sixty feet high, towered over the landscape. The plain was covered with tufts of cassias, capers, and arborescent mimosas, which extend their branches in the form of an umbrella. The pinnated leaves of the palms were conspicuous on the azure of a sky, the clearness of which was unsullied by any trace of vapours; the sun was ascending rapidly towards the zenith; a dazzling splendour was diffused through the air along the white hills, and over a sea ever calm; whose shores were peopled with brown pelicans and flamingoes. The brightness of the day, the vivid colouring of the vegetable world, the forms of the plants, the varied plumage of the