ovince into Provence, and
along the shores of the Mediterranean. Chance in some degree varied our
original design; but it will be seen in the sequel, that we executed
more of it than we had any reason to anticipate. A traveller in France
cannot reckon upon either his road, or his arrival, with as much
certainty as in England. Some of the cross roads are absolutely
impassable; and the French gentry of late have become so fond of jaunts
of pleasure, that if a travelling family should visit them in passing,
they will have great difficulty to get away without some addition to
their party, and some consequent variation from their projected road.

We remained at Nantes three days, during which time I had leisure enough
to visit the town and the neighbourhood.

Nantes is one of the most ancient cities in France; it is the
_Condivunum_ of the Romans, and the _Civitas Namnetum_ of Caesar. It is
mentioned by several Latin writers as a town of moat considerable
population under the Roman prefects; and there is every appearance, in
several parts of the city, that it has declined much from its original
importance. It is still, however, in every respect, a noble city, and,
unlike most commercial cities, is as beautifully as it is advantageously
situated. It is built on the ascent and summit of an hill, at the foot
of which is the Loire, almost as broad, and ten times more beautiful,
than the Thames. In the middle of the stream, opposite the town, are
several islets, on which are houses and gardens, and which, as seen by
the setting sun, about which time there are dancing parties, and
marquees ornamented with ribbons, have a most pleasing effect. The town,
however, has one defect, which the French want the art or the industry
to remove: the Loire is so very shallow near the town, that vessels of
any magnitude are obliged to unload at some miles above it. This is a
commercial inconvenience, which is not compensated by one of the finest
quays in Europe, extending nearly a mile in length, and covered with
buildings almost approaching to palaces. If Spain, as the proverb says,
have bridges where there is no water, I have seen repeated instances in
France where there are quays without trade. This is not, however, the
case with Nantes: it has still a brisk interior commerce, and the number
of new houses are sufficient proofs that its inhabitants increase in
opulence.

Nantes was the residence and the burying place of the ancient Dukes of