they abounded in bracelets. Arriving at Pamplemeuses, we were met by a Bengalee Coolie who lived in a cottage near by, and who, after acting as cicerone, asked for _bukshish_. Following this man, we were led into the garden, and a few steps brought us to a small oval pond of sluggish water, passing which, a short distance along its right bank, we were directly standing near the tomb of Virginia,--that of Paul being directly opposite, on the other side of the muddy pool. Both tombs were much dilapidated, all that remained of them being two square masses of brick masonry stuccoed with plaster, each of which had a delicate iron shaft passing down through its centre from the top. The masonry formerly served as a pedestal, the iron shafts acting as supports for the clay, or coarse terracotta urns that stood upon them; and both monuments were originally enclosed with light iron railings. No vestige, however, either of the railings or the urns is now remaining; but over each the pliant and graceful bamboo rustles mournfully in the wind, and a species of vine-like mimosa trails closely at their base. The alley of bamboos, the shaddock-groves, as well as the cocoanut-trees, and the mango and orange-groves, if they ever embellished that particular spot, have passed away. Many years ago a house of entertainment was kept in the vicinity, and the place was much frequented by the French residents of Port Louis. It seems a pity to spoil so affecting a story as that of the lives and loves of Paul and Virginia, but we were assured by an English Protestant clergyman of Mauritius that nearly the whole narrative was a myth. Not but that some such persons might have existed and been shipwrecked on the coast; but this was merely the _incident_ which St. Pierre worked up into a touchingly affecting tale; none, excepting a few French, believing it to be a real life-narrative. Some of our _compagnons du voyage_, who were in full belief of the story, were greatly disturbed because we laughed at the idea; and yet we were quite as intent as they in plucking flowers and sprigs of the bamboo and mimosa, to preserve as mementos of our visit, while we thought with renewed pleasure of the days when we first conned the pages of St. Pierre’s interesting little book. Pamplemeuses and its environs are exceedingly charming and attractive. A fine old Cathedral, in the Gothic style, stands at a little distance from the Tombs, with a cemetery near by, whose graves and monuments were adorned with fresh floral offerings; and the abundant display of beautiful Christmas bouquets and wreaths, placed by loving hands upon the last resting-places of the dead, gave a very cheerful aspect to the enclosure. Most of the bouquets were in vases of handsome design and workmanship, and were fixtures to the monuments and tombs.