ed; and in others, the second
and third floors turned into granaries. Indeed, along the whole road
from Abbeville to Paris, are innumerable _chateaux_, which are now only
the cells of beggars, or of the lowest kind of peasantry.

An officer who was going to Amiens, joined company with me on the road
to Pequigny, and, like every Frenchman of this class, became
communicative almost in the same instant in which we had exchanged
salutes. I found, however, that he knew nothing, except in his own
profession; and I very strongly suspect, that he even here gave me some
details of battles in which he had never been, or at least he made two
or three geographical mistakes, for which I cannot otherwise account. He
made no scruple of moving the Rhine a few degrees easterly; and
constructed a bridge over the Adige without the help of the mason. I
have not unfrequently, indeed, been surprized at the unaccountable
ignorance betrayed by this class of men. It is to be hoped, that in
another age this will pass away. My companion, however, had a
good-humour which compensated for his ignorance; he alternately talked,
sung, and dismounted from his horse to speak to every peasant girl who
met us on the road; he seemed at home with every one, and made the time
pass agreeably enough. He sung, at my request, the Marseillois, and sung
it with such emphasis, energy, and attitude, as to make me sincerely
repent the having called forth such a deafening exhibition of his
powers. Though one or two travellers passed us whilst he was thus
exhibiting, my gentleman was not in the slightest degree discomposed,
but continued his song, his attitudes, and his grimaces, as if he were
in the midst of a wood.

After a very long journey, in which my little Norman had performed to
admiration, I reached Amiens about eight o'clock, on the sweetest summer
evening imaginable. The aspect of Amiens, as it is approached by the
road, resembles Canterbury--the cathedral rising above the town--the
town, as it were, gathering around it as its parent and protector. My
companion would not leave me till he had seen me to the inn, the _Hotel
d'Angleterre_, when he took a farewell of me as if we had been intimate
for years, and I have no doubt, thought no more of me after he had
turned the corner of the street. These attentions, however, are not the
less pleasing, and answer their purpose as well as if they were more
permanent. Having ordered my supper, and seen my horse duly pr