e end of the
cloister-walk was a thoroughfare, where the wheel-barrow had worn its
weary way; and even in the deserted corners there was the dust and dirt
of a work-a-day world. The beautiful little capitals of the slender
columns rose from among the boards, clipped and worn; above, he dimly
saw the curious wooden ceiling which would seem to have taken the place
of the usual stone vaulting; through chinks of the plank-wall he caught
glimpses of a little close; and at length, having seen the most
melancholy of "Cathedrals of the Sea," in its disguise of whitewash,
decay, and misuse, he went his way.

[Sidenote: Antibes.]

That part of the southern coast of France called the Riviera seems now
only to evoke visions of the most beautiful banality; of a life more
artificial than the stage--which at least aims to present
reality--transplanted to a scene of such incomparable loveliness that
Nature herself adds a new and exquisite sumptuousness to the luxury of
civilisation. The Riviera means a land of many follies and every
vice;--each folly so delicious, each vice so regal, they seem to be
sought and desired of all men. Where else can be seen in such careless
magnificence Dukes of Russia with their polish of manner and their
veiled insolence; Englishmen correct and blase; Americans a bit
vociferous and truly amused; great ladies of all ages and manners;
adventurers high and low; and the beautiful, sparkling women of no name,
bravely dressed and barbarously jewelled? Such is the Riviera of to-day;
the life imposed upon it by hordes of foreign idlers in a land whose
warmth and luxuriance may have lent itself but too easily to the vicious
and frivolous pleasures for which they have made it notorious, but a
land which has no native history that is effeminate, nor any so unworthy
as its exotic present. "The Riviera" may be Nice, Beaulieu, and their
like, but the Provencal Mediterranean and its neighbouring territory
have been the fatherland of warriors in real mail and of princes of real
power, of the Emperor Pertinax of pagan times, of those who fought
successfully against Mahmoud and Tergament, and of many Knights of
Malta, long the "Forlorn Hope" of Christendom.

Discreetly hidden from vulgar eyes that delight in the architecture of the
modern caravanserai, are the ruins of these older days--Amphitheatres,
Fountains, Temples, and Aqueducts of the Romans; the Castles, Abbeys,
and Cathedrals of mediaeval times. Here are the