“At four o’clock the next morning we dined!! at Montbar, which place we entered after much detention by the snow.  It was so deep that we were repeatedly stopped for some time.  At a picturesque little village, called Val de Luzon, where we changed horses, the country began to assume a different character.  It now became mountainous, and, had the season been propitious, many beautiful scenes for the pencil would have presented themselves.  As it was, the forms of the mountains and the deep valleys, with villages snugly situated at the bottom, were grateful to the eye amidst the white shroud which everywhere covered the landscape.  We could but now and then catch a glimpse of the scenery through our coach window by thawing a place in the thickly covered glass, which was so plated with the arborescent frost as not to yield to the warmth of the sun at midday.

“We arrived at Dijon at nine o’clock on Saturday evening, after three days and two nights of fatiguing riding.  The diligence is, on the whole, a comfortable carriage for travelling.  I can scarcely give you any idea of its construction; it is so unlike in many respects to our stage-coach.  It is three carriage-bodies together upon one set of wheels.  The forward part is called the coupe, which holds but three persons, and, from having windows in front so that the country is seen as you travel, is the most expensive.  The middle carriage is the largest, capable of holding six persons, and is called the interieur.  The other, called the derriere, is the cheapest, but is generally filled with low people.  The interieur is so large and so well cushioned that it is easy to sleep in it ordinarily, and, had it not been for the sudden stops occasioned by the clogging of the wheels in the snow, we should have had very good rest; but the discordant music made by the wheels as they ground the frozen snow, sounding like innumerable instruments, mostly discordant, but now and then concordant, prevented our sound sleep.

“The cold we found as severe as any I have usually experienced in America.  The snow is as deep upon the hills, being piled up on each side of the road five or six feet high.  The water in our pitchers froze by the fireside, and the glass on the windows, even in rooms comfortably warmed, was encrusted with arborescent frost.  The floors, too, of all the rooms are paved with bricks or tiles, and, although comfortable in summer, are far from desirable in such a winter.

“At Dijon we stopped over the Sabbath, for the double purpose of avoiding travelling on that day and from really needing a day of rest.  On Sunday morning we enquired of our landlord, Mons. Ripart, of the Hotel du Parc, for a Protestant church, and were informed that there was not any in the place.  We learned, however, afterwards that there was one, but too late to profit by the information.  We walked out in the cold to find some church, and, entering