shing waters, which have something of the
majesty of their "exulting and abounding" rival. Winding around the
curving hills, the scene is constantly varied, and the little willowed
islets clasped in the embrace of the stream, mingle a trait of softened
beauty with its sterner character.

After passing the night at a village on its banks, we left it again at
St. Vallier, the next morning. At sunset, the spires of Vienne were
visible, and the lofty Mont Pilas, the snows of whose riven summits feed
the springs of the Loire on its western side, stretched majestically
along the opposite bank of the Rhone. In a meadow, near Vienne, stands a
curious Roman obelisk, seventy-six feet in height. The base is composed
of four pillars, connected by arches, and the whole structure has a
barbaric air, compared with the more elegant monuments of Orange and
Nismes. Vienne, which is mentioned by several of the Roman historians
under its present name, was the capital of the Allobroges, and I looked
upon it with a new and strange interest, on calling to mind my
school-boy days, when I had become familiar with that war-like race, in
toiling over the pages of Caesar. We walked in the mud and darkness for
what seemed a great distance, and finally took shelter in a little inn
at the northern end of the city. Two Belgian soldiers, coming from
Africa, were already quartered there, and we listened to their tales of
the Arab and the desert, while supper was preparing.

The morning of the 25th was dull and rainy; the road, very muddy and
unpleasant, led over the hills, avoiding the westward curve of the
Rhone, directly towards Lyons. About noon, we came in sight of the broad
valley in which the Rhone first clasps his Burgundian bride--the Saone,
and a cloud of impenetrable coal-smoke showed us the location of Lyons.
A nearer approach revealed a large flat dome, and some ranges of tall
buildings near the river. We soon entered the suburb of La Guillotiere,
which has sprung up on the eastern bank of the Rhone. Notwithstanding
our clothes were like sponges, our boots entirely worn out, and our
bodies somewhat thin with nine days exposure to the wintry storms in
walking two hundred and forty miles, we entered Lyons with suspense and
anxiety. But one franc apiece remained out of the fifteen with which we
left Marseilles. B---- wrote home some time ago, directing a remittance
to be forwarded to a merchant at Paris, to whom he had a letter of
introduction