But we are now rapidly approaching the limits of our paper, and must break off. Those who have a mind to know something of the south of France—of that strange old place, Aigues-Mortes, from which the Crusaders once embarked for Palestine, but which is now almost entirely deserted, and left like a mouldering wreck in the midst of the marshes that surround it—of Nismes, with its remains of Roman greatness and power—and of Languedoc, the name of which province is more inspiring than its actual appearance—will do well to consult this lively and agreeable volume. But beyond the district of the vine we are determined not to journey now. Fair, we doubt not, are the vineyards in this beautiful spring—fair, at least, in the eye of the poet who believes in the promise of their buds. With us the lilacs and the laburnums are scarce yet expanding their blossoms; but it is a beautiful and a consoling thought that, within the circle of Bordeaux, thousands and thousands of vines are just now bursting into blossom, to alleviate the toils and cheer the hearts of the claret-drinkers of this and perchance of the next generation. May the year be ever famous in the annals of legitimate thirst! And with this devout aspiration, which we doubt not will be echoed by many good fellows and true, we take our leave of Mr Reach, thanking him for the amusement and information we have derived from the perusal of his pleasant book. THE DEMOCRATIC CONFEDERACY. Although the precise period for the dissolution of Parliament is not yet known, we hear, on every side, the hum of political preparation. Members who had confidently reckoned on a longer lease of their seats, are trying to reconcile past votes with the present temper of their constituents, and, where they cannot openly vindicate their conduct, suggesting pleas in palliation. The over-timorous, and those who feel that they have no longer a chance of office, are issuing valedictory addresses, expressive of their preference of private life to the turmoil of a public career. Some are recanting former professions—others becoming bolder and more determined in their views. It is natural that such should be the case. The contest is not now solely between Whig and Tory, or even between Free-Trader and Protectionist. It has, owing to the occurrences of the last few months, assumed a more portentous aspect. Since his resignation, if we may not assume an earlier date, Lord John Russell has entered into the most close and intimate relations with the Manchester party, whose confession of political faith, as they themselves hardly scruple to avow, falls very little short of Republicanism. No sooner was he in opposition than he hastened to take counsel with Mr Cobden. The triumvirate was completed by the adhesion of Sir James Graham, a man who, having exhausted every possible form of moderate opinion, having played more parts in his day than the