October, the vij. year of the reign of King Henry VII., and asked the liberty of St. John of Beverley, for the death of John Welton, husbandman, of the same town, and confessed himself to be at the killing of the same John with a dagger the xv. day of August.

The Beverley Sanctuary chair is hewn out of a solid block of stone, and it has been broken, but repaired with iron clamps. According to Camden and Leland it once bore the following inscription: "Hæc sedes lapidea Freed Stool dicitur, i.e. Pacis Cathedra, ad quem reus

fugiendo perveniens omnimodam habet securitatem." ('This stone chair is called Freed Stool, i.e. the Chair of Peace, to which what criminal soever flies hath full protection.') At the present time no trace of an inscription can be found. The ancient chair forms one of the chief attractions at the interesting minster of Beverley. It is worthy of note, that only one other example of the Sanctuary chair is to be found in England, and that is at Hexham.

The privilege of sanctuary was a usage most suited to the age in which it existed; and its tendency has been happily expressed by a writer well qualified to for man opinion upon the subject :

"Under a due administration of justice, this privilege would have been simply and constantly mischievous; as we properly consider it to be, in those countries where it still subsists. But in the rapine and tumult of the Middle Ages, the right of sanctuary might as often be a shield to innocence as an impunity to crime. We can hardly regret, in reflecting on the desolating violence which prevailed, that there should have been some green spots in the wilderness where the feeble and the persecuted could find refuge. How must this right have enhanced the veneration for religious institutions! How gladly must the victims of internal warfare have turned their eyes from the baronial castle, the dread and scourge of the neighbourhood, to those venerable walls, within which not even the clamour of arms could be heard to disturb the chaunt of holy men and the sacred service of the altar."

Our illustration is from a drawing by our clever artistic friend Mr. T. T. Wildridge, and is a faithful representation of the Frith Stool.

NO. VII. THE MEDITERRANEAN SEA-COAST: NICE TO GENOA.

EAVING Nice, we skirted along the shores of the Mediterranean

until we reached Monaco, a pretty little town, formerly the capital of the smallest monarchy in the world. Although its population is only about 1,500, yet, from the crowd of visitors frequenting it, its fortifications, and really fine-looking buildings, and above all, its picturesque surroundings, it possesses a certain impressiveness not to be found in many places of far greater pretensions. We heard strange stories of the great extent to which gambling is carried on here, and were told that suicides were by no means unfrequent. My cousin told us of a young gentleman who, a little before our visit, had what they call a run of ill luck; his finances being well nigh exhausted, he staked all his resources on a single throw, and -lost. He deliberately walked into an adjoining room, the report of a pistol was heard: he had committed suicide.

Leaving Monaco late in the evening, we had, for miles, an oppor

tunity of noticing the remarkably brilliant appearance it presented. The shades of night enveloped the whole of the coast in darkness; but, being situated on a table surface of rock projecting into the sea, and illuminated by lights innumerable, it was for a long distance a very striking object. But at length it faded away in the distance; and ere long the moon arose, dispersing the darkness, and by its indistinct light added to the picturesqueness of the romantic glens, the gloomy ravines, peaceful valleys, lofty crags, and extensive pine forests, we passed on our journey. Our ride was a strange contrast to home scenery. Ever and anon a thundering torrent crossed our course, making its way noisily from the lofty hills on our left, till it lost itself in the sea below; whilst far to the south the Mediterranean was visible in the fair moonlight: but how different in appearance from the daytime, when the burning rays of a July sun were reflected with intense brilliancy,

While now, its lovely little isles
Bask in the moonbeams beauteously,

And its blue waters sleep in smiles.

Roccabruna has a most curious and singular appearance; the tall white houses look as though propped up by immense buttresses of stone. Tradition says, that the whole land on which it is situate, with the castle and buildings composing the village, has sunk down several hundreds of feet without damaging, or seriously disturbing them. The railway tunnelling is of a very heavy character, and where cuttings occur, they are so vast as to give one the impression that even the tunnels must be less costly.

After an excellent night's rest at Mentone, we arose early, breakfasted, and had a good walk round the town, leaving but little of consequence unseen. Its great charm is the surrounding scenery. In front the deep, blue waters of the Mediterranean, a lofty wooded mountain background, the slopes of the hills covered with oranges, olives, and citrons; whilst the summits were hidden from sight by clouds, not yet dispersed by the sun's rays: an atmosphere so clear, that Corsica, although a hundred miles away, appears but a few leagues distant. No wonder that Mentone, with surroundings so beautiful, and so highly recommended by medical men, should become a favourite resort for English invalids and others, who come here in considerable numbers to enjoy the warm atmosphere of the sunny

south, and gain a temporary, and frequently a permanent relief from their sufferings.

From Mentone we proceeded to Ventimiglia; crossing the enormous ravine which separates France from Italy. This ravine, as they tell us, is one of the sights of Mentone, its sides being formed of tremendous precipices, torn and splintered, as by fearful convulsions. The crags, towering high into the air, threaten destruction to the visitors, and are really dangerous; and the little streams of water continually trickling down their sides are gradually undermining them, and destroying their stability. Long grasses, rare and curious ferns, and creeping plants grow on the stone ledges, and trail over the numerous fissures: a torrent leaps into the gorge at its narrowest recess, and tumbles in a succession of cascades from rock to rock, till it reaches its stony bed below. In the narrowest part of the chasm, a slender bridge long formed the only means of communication between the two countries; one side guarded by French, the other by Italian soldiers. On arriving at Ventimiglia our luggage was overhauled by the custom-house officers, and we found that by travelling but a very few yards we had to alter our watches about forty minutes. It was a singular sight, to see within a couple of yards of each other, two clocks standing, one indicating French time, the other Italian, with nearly three-quarters of an hour difference between them. In ancient times this was a place of considerable military importance. From its present appearance we should imagine it a position of great strength. Many a murderous conflict took place here between the Genoese, the Dukes of Savoy and the Counts of Provence.

Leaving Ventimiglia, we crossed numerous empty beds of torrents, which, from their width and masses of stone, told of heavy floods at certain seasons of the year. The views along our route were very beautiful, the verdure most luxuriant with gigantic palm-trees, whence the forest of branches which on Palm Sunday impart such a peculiar aspect to the interior of St. Peter's and other churches, are supplied. Reaching Bordighera, we are told that the neighbourhood abounds in mineral and thermal springs; and that the Montenero, on which is situate the castle of Seborga, has emitted flames within the time of historic memory. Leaving Bordighera, we were continually in and out tunnels, some with apertures to the south, giving momentary but

pleasant views out to sea; whilst landward, the cuttings presented, high over our heads, an enormous quantity of waterworn boulders embedded in the cliffs, which told of a sea-beach much above the present one, at some remote geological period.

The next place of any consequence was San Remo, about which we had heard so much, as being another favourite resort of English invalids, with the air as bracing as Mentone, and charges much more moderate. It is a large and flourishing town of some ten or twelve thousand inhabitants, close by the sea-shore, beautifully situated in a bright and sandy bay. Terraces and orange-groves are mingled with handsome churches and white houses, giving it a gay and picturesque appearance; but the gloominess of the interior is in strange contrast, and has been described as a succession of caverns and defiles. Ranges of very lofty stone houses, built upon arches, cross and intersect each other, and thus wind up the side of the hill. But all around, on terraces, are gardens of great beauty, where dates acquire full maturity; the palm-trees flourish with the greatest luxuriance; while orange flowers, jessamine, and a host of other odorous plants load the air with fragrant perfume. Leaving San Remo, we passed many exquisite little towns and villages, with a continual succession of views so beautiful as to call forth all our stock of adjectives such as delightful, romantic, magnificent, picturesque, &c. &c., till having used them over and over again we agreed to postpone expressing our feelings until we found a new set of terms denoting admiration and enjoyment. At one of these towns, Oneglia, the celebrated Andrea Doria was born, in 1468. Here we saw a large, convent-looking building, but failed in our efforts to learn its history, or its use. In a little while we passed through Diano Marino, celebrated for its growth of olives and vines. We saw a considerable number of winepresses in the vineyards along our route. At the town of Cerro we noticed a large building on a hill, a very prominent object; we thought it was a castle. Seaward the Capo delle Mele stands boldly out, dividing the Riviera di Ponente into nearly equal parts. We were much struck with the singular appearance of the olive trees at this portion of our journey, and were informed that it was owing to their very great age. We skirted along the coast of a very beautiful bay, extending from the above-mentioned Cape to the Capo della Croce, passing through Linguelia, where we noticed a very