hearted as
the dove, especially those who dwell within the forest districts; for
nothing contributes so much to bring forth the loving principle of the
affections as the silent melancholy of the umbrageous woods, and the
soft and perfumed breezes that pervade them. Here, in the dusk and
stillness of the summer evenings, these wood-nymphs hear in the lofty
branches of the linden, the endearing love songs of the feathered tribe,
and when night throws its charitable gloom over their blushing cheeks,
they whisper at the trysting place what they have heard and seen to
their rustic admirers.

We have just briefly sketched the two extremes, the old men of Le Morvan
and its sprightly damosels: we must now mention the inhabitants
generally, and these vary like its productions according to locality.
The peasant of the plains is civil, gentle, and industrious, but cunning
and dangerous as an old fox; and if he thinks money may be squeezed from
your pocket, be sure there will be no sleep for him till he has taken
some out of it. Full of fun, he loves above all the dance, the song, the
merry laugh, and good cheer--and the uncorking of a bottle would be for
him a supreme delight, if this excellence itself was not superseded, by
the far greater blessedness of emptying it.

The inhabitant of the mountain, on the other hand, is sober, severe and
roughly barked--clothed with silence and gravity, smiling but once a
year--the day he has cheated a good man of the plain; he does not please
so much at first sight: but if in any danger, if you are surprised by a
hurricane, surrounded with wolves; or you have lost your way, in a night
as dark as the grave itself, you call and ask his help, oh! it is then
that his sterling qualities shine forth in all their splendour. Always
ready, always on the look out, the ear for ever bent to catch the
well-known sounds of the forest, the slightest indication of distress
awakes his vigilance; it is then he comes, it is then he flies, and his
arm, gun, and eyes--his cabin, dog, and lean horse are all at your
command.

Admirable example of courage and of devotedness: money for him is
nothing; happy to be useful, he obliges for the mere pleasure of
obliging. Many, many times have I seen poachers, cottagers,
charcoal-burners, and wood-cutters, poor as Job, hardly breeched, hungry
as a whole Irish borough, leave their work, their sport, their field,
their tree half down,--abandon in the roads, under the guard