cathedral; it has a pretty light spire: there is a beautiful portal with figures carved all round. The inside is very prettily ornamented; the pulpit is supported by Faith, Hope and Charity; above it are three angels holding a curtain underneath which is the glory; all the figures are gilt. There are two pretty painted wheel-windows; the organ is silver, and looks rather poor. There are little chapels round the inside of the cathedral, and images with cases of artificial flowers before them. The pillars are so formed that when you strike them they sound as if they were hollow. I did not think it altogether near so grand as York Minster, but it is a very pretty thing. The concierge told us that he had seen ten thousand in the church. When you look up it looks too low, as if the top was cut off. There were several nuns[11] walking up and down the cathedral. We returned to dinner at the Hôtel des Ambassadeurs, where we slept; it is quite in the French style, with red stone floors, no grates, fine clocks, etc. [Illustration: SŒUR DE LA CHARITÉ] _May 3rd._--In the morning when we asked for soap they said they had none in the house; we at last sent out to buy a piece, and they brought us in a bit of coarse brown soap. The soap that the French wash their things with smells of aniseed and gives their beds a disagreeable smell. The inn was by far the worst we met with; and the servants were very careless. We set out with very fine weather for the first time, and as the day advanced two or three butterflies made their appearance. Our postillion seemed very gay, as he sung most of the time; presently some of the ropes broke about the horses' heads, and while he was employed in mending, with the help of another bit of rope and an old knife, the postillion at the other carriage had also dismounted, and was amusing himself by plaiting up his horses' tails. The harness often broke and the horses kicked, but the men did not seem to mind it; if we asked what was the matter, they always answered, 'Soyez tranquille, soyez tranquille.' The French horses are little, clumsy-looking beasts. At Hebecourt we met a kind of covered cart full of children and nurses going to the Hospital des Enfans Trouvés at Paris; there was a soldier to guard it, who sat on his horse like a woman and slapped his horse's face. There seems to be a great want of living creatures in the fields; we never met any except here and there a drove of pigs with very long legs, or a walnut-coloured old woman leading (by a string) a thin, miserable-looking cow. We once met a flock of sheep which followed a man like dogs. Breteuil is a mean, dirty town; we had a very bad breakfast in the Hôtel de ----.[12] The country about Breteuil is very dreary and unpleasant. We saw several vineyards which were not near so pretty as I expected: they were little, diminutive-looking things, not so high as raspberry bushes. Near the villages we saw a number of people washing in the _lavoirs_ or ponds made purposely.