become an English country town, with many of its peculiarities, and a
few, it must be added, of its rather unenviable characteristics.

The buildings at Avranches are not very remarkable. The cathedral has
been destroyed, and the houses are of the familiar French pattern; some
charmingly situated in pleasant gardens commanding the view over the
bay. The situation seems perfect. Built upon the extreme western
promontory of the long line of hills which extend from Domfront and the
forest of Audaine, with a view unsurpassed in extent towards the sea,
with environs of undulating hills and fruitful landscape; with woods and
streams (such as the traveller who has only passed through central
France could hardly imagine) we can scarcely picture to ourselves a more
favoured spot.

No district in Normandy (a resident assures us) affords a more agreeable
resting place than the hills of Avranches, excepting, perhaps, the
smiling environs of Mortain and Vire. Mortain is within easy distance,
as well as Mont St. Michael (which we have sketched from the terrace at
Avranches, at the beginning of this chapter), and Granville, also, on
the western shore of the Norman archipelago; to the extreme south is
seen the Bay of Cancale in Brittany, and the promontory of St. Malo; to
the north, the variegated landscape of the Cotentin--hills, valleys,
woods, villages, churches, and châteaux smiling in the sunshine,--the
air melodious with the song of the lark and innumerable nightingales.'

True as is this picture of the natural beauty of the position of
Avranches, we will add one or two facts (gathered lately on the spot)
which may be useful to intending emigrants from our shores. Within the
last few years house rent, though still cheap, has greatly increased;
and the prices of provisions, which used to be so abundant from