Avranches, I saw before me a vast bay, now entirely deserted
by the tide, and consisting partly of sand, partly of slime, intersected
by the waters of several rivers, and covered, during spring tides, at
high water.--Two promontories, the one bluff and rocky, the other sandy
and low, project, one on either hand, into the sea; and in the open
space between these two points are two small islands, from around which
the sea ebbs at low water: one of them is a desert rock, called the
Tombelaine, and the other the Mont St. Michel.[3] The space thus covered
and deserted alternately by the sea is about eight square leagues, and
is here called the Greve.

The Mont St. Michel, which is about the same height as the Great Pyramid
of Egypt, and now stood, as that does, upon a vast plain of sand, which
is here, however, skirted in its whole length by the sea, has a very
striking and extraordinary aspect. It appeared, as the water was so
close behind it, to rise out of the sea, upon the intense and dazzling
blue of which its grey rocks and towers were relieved in a sharp and
startling manner; and, as I descended lower and lower on the hill-side,
and drew near the beach, its pinnacles seemed to increase in height, and
the picturesque effect was improved.

At length I emerged from the shady road upon the naked beach, and saw
the ferry-boat and the Charon that were to convey me and my charger over
the first river. My Avranches guide here quitted me; but I had been told
that the ferryman himself usually supplied his place in piloting
strangers across the quicksands, which, owing to the shifting of the
course of the rivers, are in constant change, and of the most dangerous
character. Horses and their riders, venturing to select their own path
over the sands, have been swallowed up together, and vessels, stranded
here in a tempest, have in a short time sunk and disappeared entirely.
The depth of what may perhaps be termed the unsolid soil, is hitherto
unknown, though various attempts have been made to ascertain it. In one
instance, a small mast, forty feet high, was fixed up in the sands, with
a piece of granite of considerable weight upon the top of it; but mast,
granite, and all, rapidly disappeared, leaving no trace behind. It is
across several leagues of a beach of this nature that one has to
approach the Mont St. Michel.

The scene which now presented itself was singular and beautiful. On the
right the land, running out boldly into