But we, who are in search of the picturesque should be the very last to
lament the fact, and we may even join in the sentiment of the Maire of
Granville, and be 'thankful' that the great highways of France are under
the control of a careful Government; and that her valleys are not (as in
England) strewn with the wrecks of abandoned railways--ruins which, by
some strange fatality, never look picturesque.

Granville is a favourite place of residence, and a great resort for
bathing in the summer; although the 'Établissement' is second-rate, and
the accommodation is not equal to that of many smaller watering-places
of France. It is, however, a pleasant and favourable spot in which to
study the manners and customs of a sea-faring people: and besides the
active human creatures which surround us, we--who settle down for a
season, and spend our time on the sands and on the dark rocks which
guard this iron-bound coast--soon become conscious of the presence of
another vast, active, striving, but more silent community on the
sea-shore, digging and delving, sporting and swimming, preying upon
themselves and each other, and enjoying intensely the luxury of living.

If we, _nous autres_, who dwell upon the land and prey upon each other
according to our opportunities, will go down to the shore when the tide
is out, and ramble about in the--

'Rosy gardens revealed by low tides,'

we may make acquaintance with a vast Lilliput community; we may learn
some surprising lessons in natural history, and read sermons in shells.
But, amidst this most interesting and curious congregation of fishes--a
concourse of crabs, lobsters, eels in holes, limpets on the rocks, and a