The next morning we bade adieu to Lyons; on the road from thence, at a place called St. Laurent des Mures, we saw the women as well as the men threshing corn, and this in the open air--a strong proof of fine climate: we afterwards remarked the practice universally. There are many walnut trees about here, but the country was flat and dull for some miles. We now however passed over a heath, (where, as Shakespeare expresses it, "the air smelt wooingly,") enriched by wood, and banks of waving fern, bounded by some near mountains; there was a picturesque view of a castle, upon the summit of a hill, embosomed in trees. These objects were a great relief to the eye, after the eternal stubble fields near Lyons. Here we observed ploughing performed by mules, which I approved of much, when compared with the use of cows for these sort of labours; the latter, poor things, are of such inestimable value in other respects, that surely it is very unfair to require their services as beasts of burthen. The roofs of the buildings in this neighbourhood now first began to assume an Italian character, and to harmonize with the ideas I had formed of the vicinity of the Alps, which were visible in the distance; but the latter did not improve the landscape so much as my hitherto untravelled eyes had expected, for they were so far off, that they resembled clouds, for which I should certainly have mistaken them, had I not been told what they really were. We here encountered a peasant, who was thin enough to have passed for the Death in Burgher's "Leonora:" his face was a mere skull, with a sallow skin strained over it; his black eager eyes deep sunk in their immense sockets. I was quite afraid of dreaming of him.

For several days past, we had taken leave of the peculiar costume of the postillions, which is not much retained on this side of Paris. Cattle now were seen of all colours; the country became more undulating and woody, and the vineyards wore a very different and much more graceful appearance, being trained far higher, not formally planted, (as I have before described) but frequently twined around standard apple and other trees, from which they hung in light and careless festoons, forming altogether a singular effect of blended foliage. They are universally trained in this manner in Italy; the French pretend that the produce is thereby rendered less plentiful, and that what is gained in beauty is lost in value: I cannot pronounce upon the truth of the assertion. The walnut-tree grew here in increased profusion, mixed frequently with the mulberry, forming an agreeable shade to the road.

First Impressions on a Tour upon the Continent — Part 35