Rhone and Saone 



meet at last." And if they had, it would have been of 

 little use, as we arrived in the dusk of evening, and went 

 away by the early twilight of dawn. 



I could see, however, that Lyons was a very remarkable 

 town ; and as we ran rapidly along the deep gorge by which 

 the Saone enters the city, where houses with bright windows 

 seemed perched among the dark masses of rock, the bell of 

 our steamboat, which kept ringing incessantly, awoke a 

 garrulous society of shifting echoes. 



The Rhone below Lyons begins to grow gradually from 

 picturesque to striking, and from that to sublime. The 

 hills become larger and ruggeder, and their grey rocks are 

 clothed with the ibronzed and tawny verdure of autumnal- 

 tinted vineyards. Valence, Rochemaure, and Viviers are 

 striking places ; the C6te-d'Or, Ventou, &c., are respect- 

 able mountains ; and further down the real Alps themselves, 

 which I had never seen before, lifted their snowy summits 

 far away to the left. It seems to me a much finer river 

 than the Rhine. 



We performed our voyage in a lean, gaunt, sheet-iron 

 mammoth, 420 feet long, gorged with boxes, and barrels, 

 and bales of all sizes and shapes. We were ill-accommo- 

 dated, and charged dear. This great river-serpent dragged 

 its slow length along to Avignon, where we dined, but saw 

 little of the place, except the Saracenic-looking walls, and 

 the coup d'ceii from the train. The railway carried us in 

 three or four hours to Marseilles, where Major R. was just 

 in time to start for his caliphate in Bagdad by the Con- 

 stantinople steamer. 



50 



