seen one. and dwarfish, and do not grow into fine majestic timber. As for a grass field, I have never There are neither meadows nor pastures. One wonders where the animals are fed-and such animals! such cattle! such sheep! such pigs! Lean, gaunt, long legged, long backed, ravenous looking creatures-more like wolves than fat bacon;-and poor, miserable, scrubby ragged sheep-to which all the vituperative epithets in Virgil's Bucolics might be applied, and yet convey no adequate idea of their poverty and wretchedness To every one who has the least of an agricultural eye, it is offensive to behold the miserable state of cultivation and the wretched stock in France. I say nothing of the picturesque, for it would puzzle even Dr. Syntax himself to find any thing approaching to it.” The rest of the fair writer's letter we take the liberty to suppress-from the supposition that the details of a journey through a country so dull to the traveller, cannot possibly prove very entertaining to the reader. CHAPTER IV. DISASTERS. Wights!-that by land and water travel. LETTER III. CAROLINE ST. CLAIR TO MRS. BALCARRIS. "AN adventure! O rare and inexpressible felicity, in this smooth and safely rolling age— have I at last met with an adventure !—and such an adventure!—O ye hills, and above all ye ruts of Burgundy, it is to you I owe this piece of good fortune-the happiness of narrowly escaping breaking my neck, and actually breaking my two little fingers. Slowly and heavily did we rumble on, along the interminable vista of the French Pavé-one filthy post house, and still more filthy village, still succeeding to another, more filthy and wretched still-without one object or event to break the dreary monotony of the way, till at last, in descending one of the steep hills of La Haute Bourgogne,' a tremendous jolt severed in pieces the splinter bar, which pierced one of the horses-the animal infuriated with pain and fear, bounded forwards, the vile French tackle, pieced and patched together with ropes, gave way, the pole struck the leaders, and down the hill were we precipitated-and overturned at the bottom with a tremendous crash, in the ditch. There we lay. I thought we should have been smothered with mud. last we did get extricated, and, wonderful to relate, neither ourselves nor any of the horses had sustained any serious injury. Colonel Cleveland was a little bruised, Mrs. Cleveland a good deal shaken, and I, who was undermost, found my neck somewhat twisted awry. On examination, it afterwards appeared that I had broken-(1st.) one collar bone, and (2d.) two fingers of my left hand. The servants behind, At who were thrown off like shuttlecocks, had been received into the soft, rich, savoury bed of a large dunghill, from which they rose perfectly sound, at least, if not particularly sweet. But the carriage was completely shattered, and by no contrivance could be dragged further. We were a league and a half from the post we had quitted, (a wretched hole !), and two leagues from that to which we were going. It was quite dusk when the accident happened, and night was now fast closing in. In this predicament, we were standing by the side of the broken vehicle, deliberating what to do, and had determined upon sending the postboy forward on one of the horses to the nearest village, 'une bonne demie Lieu,' in advance, to hire a cart while we walked on to meet it, leaving our servant in charge of the carriage, but just as this resolution was taken, we beheld an English carriage driving down the same unlucky hill, with equal speed but better fortune, for it reached the bottom in safety, and would have continued its rapid course but for the natural sense of the postillions, who stopped of their own accord; for the two men servants behind stared at us with gaping mouths and eyes, but took no other notice of us; and their master, who was asleep in a corner of the carriage, did not observe us at all. After a short parley between the postillions of the two carriages, a glass was slowly let down, something like a fur cap appeared at the window, and a voice was heard to say with remarkable deliberation,"Gregory! Gregory! What are these fellows jabbering about? Why dont they drive on? Gregory! I say.' "Gregory now lowered his person from his elevated seat behind, and going up to the window explained the accident. "What!-oh!-overturned!-carriage broken!-English ladies in the ditch did you say, Gregory? Well then, open the door-I must get out; and a tall figure, enveloped in an immense cloak, did actually get out, and advanced to us. It was so dark that it was impossible to see any thing further than the cloak and cap, but the envelope seemed of large dimensions, and very politely offered to convey us to the next post-an offer we instantly accepted. Mrs. Cleveland and I |