86 A MONTH IN THE FORESTS OF FRANCE. 



CHAP. VI. 



" When Bishop Berkeley said, ' there was no matter/ 

 And proved it — 'twas no matter what he said. 

 They say his system 'tia in vain to batter, 

 Too subtle for the airiest human head ; 

 And yet who can believe it ? I would shatter 

 Gladly all matters down to stone or lead, 

 Or adamant, to find the world a spirit, 

 And wear my head, denying that I wear it." 



Byron. 



On the following morning, when Frangois came in to 

 call me, he uttered an exclamation of surprise at the 

 state of my room, when on looking over the side of 

 my pillow, I beheld, on the floor by my boots, as many 

 oak-leaves as would make a forcing-bed for a little 

 hothouse — the said boots, from coming up only to the 

 knee, having been filled with them as Coco rushed 

 through the narrow paths of the overhanging copse, 

 or forced his way through the young spring. Hunt- 

 ing boots for such a woodland as this, and for leaves 

 as well as dew or rain, ought to come quite half-way 

 up the thigh. Those that stand up in front, only 



