rived from England. I gave him one of my little works for his father. At 30 minutes before midnight we left Geneva, where plush breeches were laid under interdict by one of the sumptuary laws of Calvin. We are now on our way to Paris, having altered our intended route to save time. The road, the first part of our journey, was very heavy, and the hills appeared to me to be long and steep. 24th, Friday. Having passed the night somewhat drowsily, we arrived at Seyssel between five and six in the morning where we breakfasted. This was an exceedingly homely affair. But the morning was beautiful, most beautiful, and the sun had risen upon the earth in all his matchless glory: "Whose energy divine Dwells not in mortal fire; whose generous heat We court thy beams, great majesty of day! At 7 30 we took the train and proceeded on our pleasant joruney. Here let me state that I prefer the Railways of France to those of our own country. They do not travel so fast, but fast enough in all conscience, and consequently the oscillation is not so great, You know how the dying muse of the bard of Rydal was affected by the anticipation of the Kendal and Windermere Railway : "Heard YE that whistle? As her long-linked Train And so should I if the beautiful and ever to be admired Dovedale was invaded and dishonoured by a Railway. "Plead for thy peace, thou beautiful romance This is Speak, passing winds; ye torrents with your strong And constant voice, protest against the wrong." We arrived at Macon at noon. situated on the right bank of the Saone, rising from the river side in the form of an amphitheatre. The streets are narrow, winding, and dirty, with gloomy and crowded houses. A neat quay, however, bordered with good buildings, runs along the bank of the river. The Vin-de-Macon is somewhat a favourite of mine. The population in 1841, was 12,820. We left this place at 11 30 at night, and, having arrived at the railway station, which is, I suppose, about a mile from the hotel where we rested, took our seats for Paris. We are now, as best we may, passing the night. The moon is not shedding her mild and placid light upon the earth, but the twilight is constant and very beautiful. To me it was a very pleasant night, and I thoroughly enjoyed it; for I love the night as well as the day. At an early hour I feasted my eyes on the scenery through which we were passing. Again the sun "as a bridegroom came out of his chamber, and rejoiced as a strong man (hero or giant) to run a race." And I also rejoiced in God my maker and Redeemer, and praised him for his glorious works. For all nature is to me like an Æolian harp, most musical, most sweet. Oh, many a time have I listened with delight to the howling of the midnight storm as it has lulled me to repose "beyond the luxury of vulgar sleep." I wonder whether I should have had these feelings had I been in the ark with Noah. Awful beyond conception, one is ready to imagine, must have been the wild uproar of the elements; and overwhelming is the thought that that vessel floated over the ruins of a world that was, and is not. By the way, can you, or any other mortal, inform me on what authority Sir Isaac Newton makes use of the following words in his Chronology.-"So in the time of Noah's flood, when the moon could not be seen, Noah reckoned 30 days to a month." When we entered France they were just beginning harvest, and now little remained of the precious grain to be gathered in. The season had been most propitious. Frequently during our tour, when passing by vineyards, was I reminded of the passage in the Song of Solomon which for poetic beauty and tenderness has no equal, but is like the sun in the firmament, unapproached and unapproachable. "My beloved spake, and said unto me, Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land; the fig tree putteth forth her figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a |