I had now to travel through a part of the country I had never seen: and a rich and splendid land it was. No armies had passed for several years along the exact track which I took; and as I compared the smiling abundance of everything around me with the scenes of devastation and ruin I had so often seen, new estimations of many things on this earth began to present themselves to my mind, and I got even as far as to admit that--whatever charms a military life might have--it would be a sad and terrible act, to change such prospects of beauty and happiness to scenes of ruin and desolation. The gradual progress of all these slow alterations in my own mind and feelings, working themselves out one after another through life, has been a subject of curious investigation to myself; and as I write for my own amusement, I shall still continue to put them down as they occur to my remembrance. The first feeling that in my bosom tended most certainly to soften all the rest, was a growing taste for the beauties of nature, of every kind and description; and as I approached Virmont, the warm and luxuriant banks of the Loire struck me with the same pleasurable sensations as I had experienced on seeing the deep shades and tranquil stillness of the Prés Vallée. Crossing the Loire at Gien, I turned to the right, and a little beyond Blénau was directed by the peasantry to the château de Virmont, which was situated in a dry and sandy soil, and surrounded by some rich but rather wild scenery. The house itself was not a very large one, but it possessed various advantages which were not to be found at either Dumont or the Prés Vallée, and, especially in my eyes, was preferable to either of them, from being totally unconnected with the dark and gloomy remembrances that hung like a boding cloud over both the others.