d, it is amongst the peasantry
alone that you now find the ancient music of France. Those airs which
are so deeply associated with all the glory and gallantry of the old
monarchy; those songs of olden times, which were chanted by the
wandering Troubadours, as they returned from foreign wars to their
native vallies, and whose simple melody recalls the days of chivalry in
which they arose: these, and all others of the same aera, which once
composed in truth the national music of this great people, are no longer
to be found amongst the higher classes of the community. But they still
exist among the peasantry. The vine-dresser, as he begins, with the
rising sun, his labours in the vineyards; or the poor muleteer, as he
drives his cattle to the water, will chant, as he goes along, those
ancient airs, which, in all their native simplicity, he has heard from
his fathers; and which, in other days, have echoed through the halls of
feudal pride, or have been sung in the bowers of listening beauty. Of
the prevalence of this refined taste in poetry among the lower orders of
the peasantry, the following fragment of an old ballad, still very
commonly sung to the ancient Troubadour air by the peasantry of
Provence, may be given as a familiar instance:

LE TROUBADOUR.

Un gentil Troubadour
Qui chant et fait la guerre,
Revennit chez son Pere
Revant a son amour.
Gages de sa valeur
Suspendus en echarpe,
Son epee et sa harpe
Croisaient sur son coeur.

Il rencontre en chemin
Pelerine jolie
Qui voyage et qui prie
Un rosaire a la main,
Colerette aux longs plies
Gouvre sa fine taille,
Et grande chapeau de paille
Cache son front divin.

"Ah! gentil Troubadour,
Si tu reviens fidele,
Chant un couplet pour celle
Qui benit ton retour."
"Pardonnez mon refus,
Pelerine jolie,
Sans avoir vu m'amie,
Je ne chanterai plus."

"Ne la revois tu pas--
Oh Troubadour fidele,
Regarde la--C'est elle,
Ouvre lui donc tes bras.
Priant pour notre amour
J'allois en pelerine
A la vierge divine
Demander son secours."

I believe no apology need be made for subjoining here, another very
favourite song in the French army: One of our party heard it sung by a
body of French soldiers, who were on their return to their homes, from
the campaign of Moscow.

LA CENTINELLE.

L'Astre de nuit dans son paisible eclat