We may not often have such hot summers in winter, but neither do we _often_ have such cold winters in summer.

It frequently rains with us, but it rains as often at Pau; and, however annoying are the variations of which we complain at home, we assuredly do not escape them by travelling eight hundred miles to take up our abode close to icy mountains, in a dirty, damp town, in an uncomfortable house: add to which, we gain little in economy; for Pau is as dear as Paris, without any of the advantages of the capital.
Altogether, the more experience I have of the climate of Pau, the more surprised I am at the crowds of English who resort to this town for the winter: the greatest part of them, it is true, are not invalids, but persons seduced into this nook by its reputation, and arriving too late in the season to leave it.

They grumble, and are astonished to find themselves no better off than if they had stayed at home; but they are, it would seem, ashamed to confess how much they have been deceived, and, therefore, remain silent on the subject of climate, content to praise the beauty of the country in fine weather, and enjoy the gaieties and hospitalities which they are sure to meet with.

If people came only for the latter advantages, I should not be surprised at their trooping hitherward, provided they were robust enough to bear the _mildness_ of climate; but that is not the avowed reason, and those they give are altogether insufficient to account for the mania of wintering at Pau.
Perhaps the best means of ascertaining the nature of the climate is by occasionally looking over old newspapers.

In a French one of Jan.