lly without
a chance of restitution. If he can come forwards, and prove, in a court
established for the purpose, that he has merely been absent; that his
absence was not without sufficient reasons; that he has not taken up
arms against France; and finally, had returned as soon as he possessed
the means--under these circumstances, the lands are restored. Even his
children may succeed where himself shall fail. Upon proof of infancy at
the time of emigration, and that they have at no time borne arms against
the empire, the lands are not unfrequently decreed to them, even when
the father's claim has been rejected.

I reached Bernay to breakfast, and, for the first time in France, met
with a surly host and a sour hostess. The bread being stale, salt, and
bitter, I desired it to be changed. The host obeyed, so far as to carry
it out of the room and bring it in again. It was in vain, however, that
I insisted upon the identity, till I desired him to bring what he had
removed, and to compare it with what he had brought. He then flatly told
me, that I must either have that or none; that it was as good bread as
any in France, and that he intended to eat it for his own breakfast.
His wife came in, hearing my raised voice, and maintained her husband's
assertions very stoutly. For the sake of peace, I found it necessary to
submit. He is a true hero who can support a contest with a man and his
wife. The girl who waited on me seemed made of kinder materials. She
laughed with much archness when I shewed her the bread, and its vigorous
resistance to the edge of my knife. She was born in Musilius, and told
me, with true French coquetry, that her sisters were as handsome as
herself. She mentioned some English name (that of a valet, I suppose),
and asked me if I knew him in London. If I should hereafter meet him, I
was to remind him of Bernay. The charges, contrary to my expectations,
were as moderate as the breakfast was indifferent; and the host did me
the honour to wish me good morning. The hostess, however, was inflexibly
sour, and saw me depart without a word, or even a salutation.

I had a most unpleasant ride to Abbeville, the heat of the day being
extreme, and the road totally without any shelter. I imagined, however,
that the heat was less oppressive than heat of the same intensity in
England; but I know not whether this difference was any thing but
imaginary. In foreign countries, we are so much upon the hunt for
novelty, and so