The _ennui_ of a journey through France is the result of individual incapacity for observation, not of the country. Above all, it is certainly not true of Guienne or Gascony, nor of Provence, nor of Dauphiné, nor Auvergne, nor Savoie. As great rivers go, the Garonne is not of very great size, nor so very magnificent in its reaches, nor so very picturesque,--with that minutiæ associated with English rivers of a like rank,--but it is suggestive of far more than most streams of its size and length, wherever found. Its source is well within the Spanish frontier, in the picturesque Val d'Aran, where the boundary between the two countries makes a curious détour, and leaves the crest of the Pyrenees, which it follows throughout--with this exception--from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic. The Garonne becomes navigable at Cazères, some distance above Toulouse, and continues its course, enhanced by the confluence of the Tarn, the Lot, the Arriège, and the Dordogne, beyond the junction of which, two hundred and seventy odd miles from the head of navigation, the estuary takes on the nomenclature of _La Gironde_. Of the ancient provinces of these parts, the most famous is Guienne, that "fair duchy" once attached--by a subtle process of reasoning--to the English crown. It is distinguished, as to its economic aspect, by its vast vineyards, which have given the wines, so commonly esteemed, the name of claret. These and the other products of the country have found their way into all markets of the world through the Atlantic coast metropolis of Bordeaux. The Gascogne of old was a large province to the southward of Guienne. A romantic land, say the chroniclers and _mere litterateurs_ alike. "Peopled by a race fiery, ardent, and impetuous ... with a peculiar tendency to boasting, hence the term _gasconade_." The peculiar and characteristic feature of Gascogne, as distinct from that which holds in the main throughout these parts, is that strange and wild section called the _Landes_, which is spoken of elsewhere. The ancient province of Languedoc, which in its lower portion is included in this section, is generally reputed to be the pride of France with regard to climate, soil, and scenery. Again, this has been ruled otherwise, but a more or less intimate acquaintance with the region does not fail to endorse the first claim. This wide, strange land has not vastly changed its aspect since the inhabitants first learned to fly instead of fight. This statement is derived to a great extent from legend, but, in addition, is supported by much literary and historical opinion, which has recorded its past. It is not contemptuous criticism any more than Froissart's own words; therefore let it stand.