x miles in length, and three
hundred french feet in breadth, and is composed of massy stones and
masonry, which have been sunk for the purpose, and which are now
cemented, by sea weed, their own weight and cohesion, into one immense
mass of rock. Upon this wall a chain of forts is intended to be erected,
as soon as the finances of government will admit of it. The expenses
which have already been incurred, in constructing this wonderful fabric,
have, it is said, exceeded two millions sterling. These costly
protective barriers can only be considered as so many monuments, erected
by the french to the superior genius and prowess of the british navy.

Whilst I was waiting for the packet's sailing, I received great
civilities from Mons. C----, the banker and american consul at
Cherbourg, to whom I had letters from Mons. R----. I rode, the second
evening after my arrival, to his country house, which was about nine
miles from the town. Our road to it lay over a prolific and mountainous
country. From a high point of land, as we passed along, we saw the
islands of Guernsey, Jersey and Alderney, which made a beautiful
appearance upon the sea. Upon our return, by another road, I was much
pleased with a group of little cottages, which were embosomed in a
beautiful wood, through which there was an opening to the sea, which the
sinking sun had then overspread with the richest lustre. As we entered
this scene of rustic repose, the angelus bell of the little village
church rang; and a short time afterwards, as we approached it, a number
of villagers came out from the porch, with their mass-books in their
hands, their countenances beaming with happiness and illuminated by the
sinking sun, which shone full upon them. The charms of this simple scene
arrested our progress for a short time. Under some spreading limes, upon
a sloping lawn, the cheerful cottagers closed the evening with dancing
to the sounds of one of the sweetest flagelets I ever heard, which was
alternately played by several performers, who relieved each other. In
France, every man is a musician. Goldsmith's charming picture of his
Auburn, in its happier times, recurred to me:--

"When toil remitting, lends its turn to play,
And all the village train, from labour free,
Led up their sports beneath the spreading tree."

The cross roads of France are very bad; but, to my surprise, although we
never could have had a worse specimen of them than what this excursion