the known
greatness of the Duke of Guise; but religious fury has no limits, and a
true enthusiast comforts himself that he tortures the body to save the
soul. Thank Heaven, that the days of such infuriate zeal are over: but
Heaven forbid that we should pass to the other extreme. Great as may be
the evils of bigotry, the mischief of religious indifference, or in
other words, of no religion at all, would be infinitely greater. The
one may affect the world as a storm, the other is a perpetual
pestilence, beneath the influence of which every thing that is generous
and noble, morals, and even private honor, must fall to the ground.

CHAP. XIV.

_Lovely Country between Amboise and Blois--Ecures--Beautiful
Village--French Harvesters--Chousi--Village Inn--Blois--
Situation--Church--Market--Price of Provisions._

ON the following morning we resumed our journey for Blois, a distance of
thirty miles, which we proposed to reach the same day.

The country for some leagues very nearly resembled that through which we
had passed on the preceding day, except that it was more thickly spread
with houses, and better cultivated. Windmills are very frequent along
the whole line of the Loire, the wheat of the country being ground in
the vicinity of the river, so as to be more convenient for
transportation. These mills are beautifully situated on the hills and
rising grounds, and add much to the cheerfulness of the scenery. The
road, moreover, was as various as it was beautiful. Sometimes it passed
through open fields, in which the peasantry were at work to get in their
harvest. Upon sight of our horses, the labourers, male and female,
ceased from their work, and ran up to the carriage: some of the younger
women would then present us with some wheat, barley, or whatever was
the subject of their labour, accompanying it with rustic salutations,
and more frequently declining than accepting any pecuniary return. This
conduct of the French peasantry is a perfect contrast to what a
traveller must frequently meet in America, and still more frequently in
England. Amongst the inferior classes in England and America, to be a
stranger is to be a subject for insult. So much I must say in justice
for the French of the very lowest condition, that I never received any
thing like an insult, and that they no sooner understood me to be a
stranger, than they were officious in their attentions and information.

I enquired of Mr. Younge what were the