mouths of exhausted coal-pits; and the gentle murmur of the stream
was subdued by the loud rattle of the loom. Sometimes M. ---- and his
friend halted amidst all that is delightful and soothing; and after
a short advance, found themselves amidst barrenness, deformity, and
confusion. The remoter scenery was not less impressive. Behind them
were the rugged mountains of Puy de Dôme; the lofty Tarare lifted
its majestic head beside them, and far before appeared the brilliant
summit of Mont Blanc.

[Footnote 1: An American gentleman then residing in that capital.]

In this state of mind he arrived at the skirts of a hamlet placed on
the declivity of a mountain; and being desirous of finding a shorter
and more retired track, he stopped at a decent-looking dwelling-house
to inquire the way. From the windows several females were watching the
movements of a little child; and just as M. ---- inquired for a road
across the mountains, the infant was in danger of being crushed by a
coal-cart which had entered the street. The cries and alarms of the
females were met by the activity of the travellers, and the companion
of M. ---- set off to snatch the infant from danger, and place him in
security. An elderly female from the second story, gave M. ----, who
was still on his horse, the directions he desired; and, at the same
time, expressed her uneasiness that the gentleman should have had the
trouble to seek the child.

"Madam," interrupted M. ----, "my friend is only performing his duty:
we ought to do to another as we would that another should do to us;
and in this wretched world we are bound to assist each other. You are
kind enough to direct us travellers in the right road, and surely
the least we can do is to rescue your child from danger. The Holy