ult_ ... where
I had _half as much again!_. "Indeed, I was told that the wine vaults of
Epernay were as well worth inspection, as the catacombs of Paris.

I should observe to you that the river _Marne_, one of the second-rate
rivers, of France, accompanies you pretty closely all the way from Chateau
Thierry to Chalons--designated as _Chalons-sur-Marne._ From Epernay to
Chalons you pass through nothing but corn fields. It is a wide and vast
ocean of corn--with hardly a tree, excepting those occasionally along the
road, within a boundary of ten miles. Chalons is a large and populous town;
but the churches bear sad traces of revolutionary fury. Some of the
porches, once covered with a profusion of rich, alto-relievo sculpture, are
absolutely treated as if these ornaments had been pared away to the very
quick! Scarcely a vestige remains. It is in this town where the two great
roads to STRASBOURG--one by _Metz_, and the other by _Nancy_--unite. The
former is to the north, the latter to the south. I chose the latter;
intending to return to Paris by the former. On leaving Chalons, we purposed
halting to dine at _Vitry-sur-Marne_--distant two posts, of about four
leagues each. _La Chaussee,_ which we reached at a very smart trot, was the
first post town, and is about half way to Vitry. From thence we had "to
mount a huge hill"--- as the postilion told us; but it was here, as in
Normandy--these huge hills only provoked our laughter. However, the wheel
was subjected to the drag-chain--and midst clouds of white dust, which
converted us into millers, we were compelled to descend slowly. Vitry was
seen in the distance, which only excited our appetite and made us anxious
to increase our pace.

On reaching Vitry, I made my terms for dinner with the landlady of the
principal inn--who was literally as sharp as a razor. However, we had a
comfortable room, a good plain dinner, with an excellent bottle of _Vin de
Beaune_, for three francs each. "Could Monsieur refuse this trifling
payment?" He could not. Before dinner I strolled to the principal church--
which is indeed a structure of a most noble appearance--like that of St.
Sulpice in form, and perhaps of a little more than half its size. It is the
largest parish church which I have yet seen; but it is comparatively
modern. It was Sunday; and a pleasing spectacle presented itself on
entering. A numerous group of young women, dressed almost entirely in
white, with white caps and veils, we