Chambery is a neat little town, with several streets that may be called elegant. The first that I remember reading of it was in the confessions of Jean Jacques Rousseau - some ten years ago. He resided here in 1736 with Madme de Warrens, a lady who had formed an attachment to him. Took a guide and went to their place of residence - a retired little cottage about a mile from the town called Les Charmettes and where Jean Jacques says he passed the happiest days of his life.

The road to it is a narrow path shaded by trees and skirted by a little brook, along which going to Charmettes the first time Madme de Warrens found the Pervenche. As to the position of this abode it has been minutely described by the sentimental philosopher and things are nearly the same as where he left them - "un devant, un jardin - une vigne au dessus - un virger aa desscua - vis a vis un petit bois de chataigners - une fontagne a portee " etc. etc. - "jetais transports le premier jour que nous y coucharaes."

Opposite the house are the chestnut trees mentioned by J J and above is the hill where he passed such a happy day with Madme de Warrens. It overlooks the plain that extends to the South east of Chambery and in every direction are the finest views imaginable of mountains and vallys. I returned by a road above the house of which Rousseau speaks, "Je me levais tous les matins avant le soleil, Je montais par un virger voisin - dans un tres jolis chemin qui etait au dessus de la vigne et suivait la cote jusqua Chambery."

This leads to the fountain St. Martin, where there is another enchanting view. The town at my feet and in the distance a part of the Lake Du Bourjetwith, the ruins of a castle of feudal times on its borders. The horizon terminated by mountains more or less distant of which their outlines offer in several instances shapes most bold and fantastical. Got into one of those little carriages peculiar to Chambery and in which one sits sideways, like in an Irish jaunting car and drove to "Le Bout du Monde" - a singular and curious place.

A cul-de-sac formed by lofty precipices about an hours distance from the town and from which tumbles a cascade and several springs gush out from the rocks very picturesque. Were it not for a paper mill erected in the vicinity. Finished my days rambles at Chambery by going to the Chateau and Chapelle in the city, and to the different promenades which are not the least of the beauties of this capital of Savoy-