re singing a sort of evening hymn--
which I understood to be called the _Chaplet of the Virgin_. Their voices,
unaccompanied by instrumental music, sounded sweetly from the loftiness of
the roof; and every singer seemed to be touched with the deepest sense of
devotion. They sang in an attitude with the body leaning forward, and the
head gently inclined. The silence of the place--its distance from the
metropolis--the grey aspect of the heavens--and the advanced hour of the
day ... all contributed to produce in our minds very pleasing and yet
serious sensations. I shall not easily forget the hymn called THE CHAPLET
OF THE VIRGIN, as it was sung in the church of Vitry.

After leaving this place we successively changed horses at _Longchamp_ and
at _St. Dizier_. To our great comfort, it began to threaten rain. While the
horses were being changed at the former place, I sat down upon a rough
piece of stone, in the high road, by the side of a well dressed paysanne,
and asked her if she remembered the retreat of Bonaparte in the campaign of
1814--and whether he had passed there? She said she remembered it well.
Bonaparte was on horseback, a little in advance of his troops--and ambled
gently, within six paces of where we were sitting. His head was rather
inclined, and he appeared to be very thoughtful. _St. Dizier_ was the
memorable place upon which Bonaparte made a rapid retrograde march, in
order to get into the rear of the allied troops, and thus possess himself
of their supplies. But this desperate movement, you know, cost him his
capital, and eventually his empire. St. Dizier is rather a large place, and
the houses are almost uniformly white. Night and rain came on together as
we halted to change horses. But we were resolved upon another stage--to
_Saudrupt_: and were now about entering the department of LORRAINE.

The moon struggled through a murky sky, after the cessation of rain, as we
entered _Saudrupt_: which is little better than a miserable village.
Travellers seldom or never sleep here; but we had gone a very considerable
distance since five in the morning, and were glad of any thing in the shape
of beds. Not an inn in Normandy which we had visited, either by day or by
night, seemed to be more sorry and wretched than this, where we--stretched
our limbs, rather than partook of slumber. At one in the morning, a young
and ardent lover chose to serenade his mistress, who was in the next house,
with a screaming tune upon a