Ill 



From those who, like the exasperated Frenchman, 

 " abhor the beauties of Nature," some indulgence is 

 craved. There is a place for everything ; and what would 

 be but sickly sentiment in the more strenuous walks of 

 life comes naturally enough when we enter the silent 

 vistas of untrodden forest and become susceptible to 

 those elemental influences, old as humanity itself, that 

 still exercise some sway over the most civilized mind. 



The critical reader should therefore allow the rustlings 

 of these leaves to draw him within their quiet shade, 

 forgetful of the fact that his guide is neither ' mighty 

 hunter ' nor boasts much wider experience than is 

 sometimes afforded by the earlier years of 'a soldier, 

 therefore seldom rich.' 



