of notice than either the inscription or the crucifix: it was built by
Louis XVIth, for the residence of a sailor, who, by saving the lives of
shipwrecked mariners, had deserved well of his sovereign and his
country. Its front bears, "A J'n. A'r. Bouzard, pour ses services
maritimes;" but there was originally a second inscription in honor of
the king, which has been carefully erased. The fury of the revolution
could pardon nothing that bore the least relation to royalty; or surely
a monument like this, the reward of courage and calculated to inspire
only the best of feelings[2], might have been allowed to have remained
uninjured. The French are wiser than we are in erecting these public
memorials for public virtues: they better understand the art of
producing an effect, and they know that such gratifications bestowed
upon the living are seldom thrown away. We rarely give them but to the
dead. Capt. Manby, to whom above one hundred and thirty shipwrecked
mariners are even now indebted for their existence, and whose invention
will probably be the means of preservation to thousands, is allowed to
live in comparative obscurity; while in France, a mere pilot, for
having saved the lives of only eight individuals, had a residence built
for him at the public expence, received an immediate gratification of
one thousand francs, enjoyed a pension during his life, and, with his
name and his exploits, now occupies a conspicuous place in the history
of the duchy.

Within the piers, the harbor widens into a stone basin, capable of
holding two hundred vessels, and full of water at the flow of the tide;
but at the ebb exhibiting little more than a sheet of mud, with a small
stream meandering through it. Round the harbor is built the town, which
contains above twenty thousand inhabitants, and is singularly
picturesque, as well from its situation, backed as it is by the steep
cliff to the east, which, instead of terminating here abruptly, takes an