ur. The boat appeared to be conscious that we
were going on a holy mission, and seemed to be proud of her load. There
is nothing in this wide world so like a thing of life as a steamer, from
the breathing of her steam and smoke, the energy of her motion, and the
beauty of her shape; while the ease with which she is managed by the
command of a single voice, makes her appear as obedient as the horse is
to the rein.

When we were about half way between the two great European Powers, the
officers began to gather the tickets. The first to whom he applied, and
who handed out his "Excursion Ticket," was informed that we were all in
the wrong boat. "Is this not one of the boats to take over the
delegates?" asked a pretty little lady, with a whining voice. "No,
Madam," said the captain. "You must look to the committee for your pay,"
said one of the company to the captain. "I have nothing to do with
committees," the captain replied. "Your fare, Gentlemen, if you please."

Here the whole party were again thrown into confusion. "Do you hear
that? We are in the wrong boat." "I knew it would be so," said the Rev.
Dr. Ritchie, of Edinburgh. "It is indeed a pretty piece of work," said a
plain-looking lady in a handsome bonnet. "When I go travelling again,"
said an elderly looking gent with an eye-glass to his face, "I will take
the phaeton and old Dobbin." Every one seemed to lay the blame on the
committee, and not, too, without some just grounds. However, Mr. Sturge,
one of the committee, being in the boat with us, an arrangement was
entered into, by which we were not compelled to pay our fare the second
time.

As we neared the French coast, the first object that attracted our
attention was the Napoleon Pillar, on the top of which is a statue of
the Emperor in the Imperial robes. We landed, partook of refreshment
that had been prepared for us, and again repaired to the railway
station. The arrangements for leaving Boulogne were no better than those
at London. But after the delay of another hour, we were again in motion.

It was a beautiful country through which we passed from Boulogne to
Amiens. Straggling cottages which bespeak neatness and comfort abound on
every side. The eye wanders over the diversified views with unabated
pleasure, and rests in calm repose upon its superlative beauty. Indeed,
the eye cannot but be gratified at viewing the entire country from the
coast to the metropolis. Sparkling hamlets spring up as the steam