over
safely, and left me on the island; but in returning by himself, the
poor fellow's little boat was caught by a wave, and it skimmed to
the bottom like a slate or an oyster-shell that is thrown obliquely
into the water. A general exclamation was uttered from the shore;
but, in a few minutes, the boatman was seen sitting upon a row of
piles in the middle of the river, wringing his long hair with great
composure.

'I have mentioned this boatman repeatedly as an old man, and such
he was to all appearance; his hair was grey, his face wrinkled, his
back bent, and all his limbs and features had the appearance of
those of a man of sixty, yet his real age was but twenty-seven
years. He told me that he was the oldest boatman on the Rhone; that
his younger brothers had been worn out before they were twenty-five
years old.'

The French society at Lyons included many agreeable people; but
Edgeworth singles out from among them, as his special friend, the
Marquis de la Poype, who understood English, and was well acquainted
with English literature. He pressed Edgeworth to pay him a visit at
his Chateau in Dauphiny, and the latter adds: 'I promised to pass
with him some of the Christmas holidays. An English gentleman went
with me. We arrived in the evening at a very antique building,
surrounded by a moat, and with gardens laid out in the style which
was common in England in the beginning of the last century. These
were enclosed by high walls, intersected by canals, and cut into
parterres by sandy walks. We were ushered into a good drawing-room,
the walls of which were furnished with ancient tapestry. When dinner
was served, we crossed a large and lofty hall, that was hung round
with armour, and with the spoils of the chase; we passed into a
moderate-sized eating-room, in which there was no visible fireplace,
but which was sufficiently heated by invisible stoves. The want of
the cheerful light of a fire cast a gloom over our repast, and the
howling of the wind did not contribute to lessen this dismal effect.
But the dinner was good, and the wine, which was produced from the
vineyard close to the house, was excellent. Madame de la Poype, and
two or three of her friends, who were on a visit at her house,
conversed agreeably, and all feeling of winter and seclusion was
forgotten.

'At night, when I was shown into my chamber, the footman asked if I
chose to have my bed warmed. I inquired whether it was well aired;
he assured me, wi