AL OF COUTANCES. ENVIRONS.
AQUEDUCT. MARKET-DAY. PUBLIC LIBRARY. ESTABLISHMENT FOR THE CLERGY.

I send you this despatch close to the very Cathedral, whose spires, while
yet at Bayeux, were already glimmering in the horizon of my imagination.
The journey hither has been in every respect the most beautiful and
interesting that I have experienced on _this_ side the Seine. I have seen
something like undulating pasture-lands, wooded hills, meandering streams,
and well-peopled villages; and an air of gaiety and cheerfulness, as well
as the charm of picturesque beauty, has accompanied me from one cathedral
to the other.

I left the _Hotel de Luxembourg_, at Bayeux, in a hired cabriolet with a
pair of horses, about five in the afternoon, pushing on, at a smart trot,
for ST. LO: which latter place I entered by moon-light. The road, as usual,
was broad and bold, and at times undulating; flanked by beech, elm, and
fir. As I just observed to you, I entered St. Lo by moon-light: the double
towers of the great cathedral-like looking church having a grand and even
romantic effect on approaching the town. An old castle, or rather a mere
round-tower relic of one, appeared to the left, upon entering it. Passing
the porch, or west end of the church, sometimes descending, at others
ascending--midst close streets and overhanging roofs of houses, which cast
a deep and solemn shadow, so as to shut out the moon beams for several
hundred yards--and pursuing a winding route, I at length stopped at the
door of the principal hotel--_au Grand Coq!_ I laughed heartily when I
heard its name; for with the strictest adherence to truth the adjective
ought to have been _petit!_

However, the beds seemed to be in good order, and the coffee, with which I
was quickly served, proved to be excellent. I strolled out, on a
_reconnoissance_, about half-past nine; but owing to the deep shadows from
the moon, arising from the narrowness of the streets, I could make out
nothing satisfactory of the locale. The church, however, promised a rich
treat on the morrow. As soon as the morrow came, I betook myself to the
church. It was Sunday morning. The square, before the west front of the
church, was the rendezvous both of townsmen and countryfolks: but what was
my astonishment on observing in one corner of it, a quack doctor vending
powder for the effectual _polishing of metals_. He had just beaten his
drum, in order to collect his audience; and having got a good as