. He moved a few paces gently forwards, and turning
round, with hands and eyes elevated, exclaimed, in a tremulous and
heart-stricken tone of voice, "Ah, mon Dieu!" I will not dissemble that I
took leave of him with tears, which were with difficulty concealed. "Adieu,
pour toujours!"--were words which he uttered with all the sincerity, and
with yet more pathos, than was even shewn by Pierre Aime Lair at Caen. The
landlord and landlady of this hotel are warm in their commendations of him:
assuring me that his name is hardly ever pronounced without the mention of
his virtues. He has just entered his sixty-second year.[173]

It remains only to give an account of the progress of Printing and of
Literature in this place: although the latter ought to precede the former.
As a literary man, our worthy acquaintance the Comte de la Fresnaye takes
the lead: yet he is rather an amateur than a professed critic. He has
written upon the antiquities of the town; but his work is justly considered
inferior to that of Monsieur Langevin. He quotes _Wace_ frequently, and
with apparent satisfaction; and he promises a French version of his beloved
_Ingulph_. Falaise is a quiet, dull place of resort, for those who form
their notions of retirement as connected with the occasional bustle and
animation of Caen and Rouen. But the situation is pleasing. The skies are
serene: the temperature is mild, and the fruits of the earth are abundant
and nutritious. Many of the more respectable inhabitants expressed their
surprise to me that there were so few English resident in its
neighbourhood--so much preferable, on many accounts to that of Caen. But
our countrymen, you know, are sometimes a little capricious in the objects
of their choice. Just now, it is the _fashion_ for the English to reside at
Caen; yet when you consider that the major part of our countrymen reside
there for the purpose of educating their children--and that Caen, from its
numerous seminaries of education, contains masters of every description,
whose lessons are sometimes as low as a frank for each--it is not
surprising that Falaise is deserted for the former place. For myself--and
for all those who love a select society, a sweet country, and rather a
plentiful sprinkle of antiquarian art,--for such, in short, who would read
the fabliaux of the old Norman bards in peace, comfort, and silence--there
can be no question about the preference to be given to the spot from which
I send this my