At first I was
afraid it was my worn-out feelings that produced the impression; but,
by close comparisons, and by questioning my companions, some of whom
scarcely recollected the other road, I feel certain that such is the
fact. Indeed it would be like comparing a finished painting to an
_esquisse_.

We had not much trouble at the second custom-house, though the officers
eyed our ornaments with a confiscating rapacity. For my part I took my
revenge, by showing off the only ornament I had to the utmost. A---- had
made me a present of a sapphire-ring, and this I flourished in all sorts
of ways, as it might be in open defiance. One fellow had an extreme
longing for a pretty _ferroniere_, and there was a private consultation
about it, among them, I believe; but after some detention, and a pretty
close examination of the passports, we were permitted to proceed. If
Francois smuggled nothing, it must have been for want of funds, for
speculation is his hobby, as well as his misfortune, entering into every
bone of his body.

We were all day busy in those barren, sterile, and unattractive
mountains--thrice unattractive after the God-like Alps--and were
compelled to dip into the night, in order to get rid of them. Once or
twice on looking back, we saw the cold, chiseled peak of Mont Blanc,
peering over our own nearer ridges; and as the weather was not very
clear, it looked dim and spectral, as if sorry to lose us. It was rather
late when we reached a small town, at the foot of the Jura, and stopped
for the night.

This was France again,--France in cookery, beds, tone, and thought. We
lost the Swiss simplicity (for there is still relatively a good deal of
it), and Swiss directness, in politeness, _finesse_, and _manner_. We
got "_monsieur sait--monsieur pense--monsieur fera_"--for "_que
voulez-vous, monsieur?_"

We had no more to do with mountains. Our road next morning was across a
wide plain, and we plunged at once into the undeviating monotony of
French agriculture. A village had been burned, it was thought to excite
political commotion, and the postilions began to manoeuvre with us, to
curtail us of horse-flesh, as the road was full of carriages. It now
became a matter of some moment to push on, for "first come, first
served," is the law of the road. By dint of bribes and threats, we
reached the point where the two great routes unite a little east of
Dole, before a train of several carriages, which we could see pushing
f