assembled on the bridge, having espied us at a little distance from the town.

Another day's pull brought us to Montereau. Here we rested, for from the neighbouring hills a fine view may be obtained of the surrounding country, the winding of the Seine below, and the junction of the Yonne with the Seine just above the town. It was on these heights of Surville that Napoleon, on the evening of the 17th of February, 1814, assembled the French troops in imposing masses, commanding the bridge and the town beneath them. The Artillery of the Guard was placed on either side of the road, near the cross, and the Emperor took his station in person amidst the guns, to direct their fire, for the enemy still held the town. Such was his eagerness to annihilate the dense masses of the enemy crowding over the bridge, that he himself, resuming his old occupation of gunner, with his own hand, as at Toulon, levelled and pointed a cannon upon them. -Alison.

Pictures of Napoleon in this attitude abound in the smallest villages through which we passed; but it would be difficult to say which is the greater favourite, this or another picture repre

PARIS AND THE SEINE.

23

senting the Emperor on horseback at Waterloo, with the forelegs of his charger stuck out in a most wonderful manner.

Our landlady evinced a great thirst for the English language, and, we believe, had got as far as the word yes before we left Montereau. When she learnt that one of us knew but little of the French language, she exclaimed, 'Ah, pauvre homme!' with such an evident air of commiseration, that it was impossible to laugh, she spoke with so much simplicity and earnestness. But we must not find fault with her; she took great care of us, and studied our comfort, during the short stay we made, with as much attention as if we had belonged to her own family.

CHAPTER IV.

DIJON-LE CÔTE D'OR

We were a gallant company,

Riding o'er land, and sailing o'er sea,

We forded the river, and clomb the high hill,

Whether we lay in the cave or the shed,
Our sleep fell soft on the hardest bed;
Whether we couch'd in our rough capote,

Or the rougher plank of our gliding boat,

Or stretch'd on the beach with the canvas spread
As a pillow beneath the resting head,

Fresh we woke upon the morrow.

channel, we had to jump out and march with the boat up stream. We had not, however, proceeded far in this manner, when we learnt, from the sudden disappearance of the Professor, that the stream was again navigable. About thirty miles from Montereau is Sens, a pretty little town, or rather city, of about 10,000 inhabitants. The cathedral is already world-known, and the Treasury contains the complete pontifical dress of St. Thomas of Canterbury, who came here from England in the year 1164.

'The walls of Sens,' says Murray, 'exhibit in the lower portion, magnificent remains of Roman, some say of Gaulish, masonry:' we took it for granted, for we did not see them,

After passing Joigny, a quaint old town scarcely accessible owing to the steepness of its numerous streets, the river leads us to Laroche, the commencement of the Canal de Bourgogne. On our way, the Professor dropped his fishing rod overboard, and as it was rather too good to lose, the Captain jumped in after it; and after a vigorous chace of about six minutes, during which time he disappeared once or twice, succeeded in capturing the runaway.

On entering any of the canals in France, it is

necessary to apply to the Bureau of the Director, to obtain a laissez-passer, that is, a document (for which a small sum is demanded, according to the length of the canal) to serve as a passport through the canal, and to be endorsed by the éclusier or sluice-keeper at each lock.

Our work here was very different to that against stream-more satisfactory, for we got over double the distance in the same time, but apt to make us lazy, since there was so little work to be done. Our course was more monotonous, as far as concerns the scenery in our immediate neighbourhood: the canal often runs for miles without a bend or turn of any kind; then we have high stiff banks with a road or pathway on the top, and on the outside of this, as one might almost say, a wall of poplar trees, which, by the bye, were very acceptable sometimes, for they served as a good protection from the sun, the heat of which was beginning to tell upon our hands, faces, and feet especially.

At the junction of two small streams, the Armance and Armançon (along the valley of which last the canal takes its course, and by which it is fed), stands St. Florentin, a pretty little town with a church, which, though sadly neglected, is still a fair example of Second Pointed Gothic. The