my friend the barrister nor myself felt the least inclined to take up their cause.  The Genevois had with him Fouche’s expose of the state of the nation, wherein he complains bitterly of the conduct of the Allies.  All France is now disarmed and no troops are to be seen but those in foreign uniform.  The face of the country between Paris and Auxerre is not peculiarly striking; but the soil appears fertile and the road excellent.  After breakfast we started from Auxerre and stopped to sup and sleep the same night at Avallon.  At Semur, which we passed on the following day, there is a one arched bridge of great boldness across the river Armancon.  We arrived in the evening at Dijon.  The country between Auxerre and Dijon is very undulating in gentle hill and dale, but for the want of trees and inclosures it has a bleak appearance.  As you leave Avallon and approach Dijon, the hills covered with vines indicate your arrival in a wine country.  I put up at the Chapeau rouge at Dijon and remained there one day, in order to visit the Chartreuse which is at a short distance from the town and commands an extensive view.  It was devastated during the Revolution.  The view from it is fine and extensive and that is all that is worth notice.  The country about it is rich and cultivated, and the following lines of Ariosto might serve for its description: 

  Culte pianure e delicati colli,
  Chiare acque, ombrose ripe e prati molli.[47]

  ’Mid cultivated plain, delicious hill,
  Moist meadow, shady bank, and crystal rill.

  —­Trans.  W.S.  ROSE.

The city of Dijon is large, handsome and well built.  It has an appearance of industry, comfort and airiness.  There are several mustard manufactories in this town.  A dinner was given yesterday by the municipality to the National Guard, and an immense quantity of mustard was devoured on the occasion in honor of the staple manufactory of Dijon.  From Dijon I put myself in the diligence to go to Chalon and after stopping two hours at Beaune, arrived at Chalon at 5 o’clock p.m.  The country between Dijon and Chalon is flat, but cultivated like a garden.  It is likewise the wine country par excellence.  I do not know a wine more agreeable to palate than the wine of Beaune.

At Chalon I put up at the Hotel du Parc.  Chalon is beautifully situated on the banks of the Saone.  The Quai is well constructed and forms an agreeable promenade.  There is an Austrian garrison in Chalon.  The hostess of the inn told me that Napoleon stopped at her house on his way from Lyons to Paris, when he returned from Elba, and she related to me with great eagerness many anecdotes of that extraordinary man:  she said that such was the empressement on the part of the inhabitants to see him, and embrace him by way of testifying their affection, that the Emperor was obliged to say:  “Mais vous m’etouffez, mes enfans!” In fact, had the army remained neutral, the peasantry