it. Without even returning to his friends, he took his
hat--and in one minute, to my surprise, I found myself in the street with
the Abbe de Mortueux, in the high way to the PUBLIC LIBRARY. In our way
thither our discourse was constant and unrestrained. "You appear here;
Monsieur l'Abbe, to be partial to literature;... but allow me first to
congratulate you on the beautiful environs of your town." "For literature
in general, we are pretty well disposed. In regard to the beauties of the
immediate neighbourhood of Vire, we should be unworthy inhabitants indeed,
if we were not sensible of them." In five minutes we reached the Library.

The shutters of the room were fastened, but the worthy Abbe opened them in
a trice; when I saw, for the first time in Normandy, what appeared to be a
genuine, old, unmutilated, unpillaged library. The room could be scarcely
more than twenty-two feet square. I went instantly to work, with eyes and
hands, in the ardent hope, and almost full persuasion, of finding something
in the shape of a good old Greek or Roman Classic, or French Chronicle, or
Romance. But, alas, I looked, and handled the tomes in vain! The history of
the library is this:--The founder was a Monsieur PICHON; who, on being
taken prisoner by the English, at the capture of Louisburg in 1758, resided
a long time in England under the name of TYRREL, and lived in circumstances
of respectability and even of opulence. There--whether on the dispersion of
the libraries of our Meads, Foulkes', and Rawlinsons, I know not--he made
his collection; took his books over with him to Jersey, where he died in
1780: and bequeathed them, about 3000 in number, to his native town of
Vire. M. du Mortueux, who gave me these particulars, has drawn up a little
memorial about Pichon. His portrait, executed by an English artist, (whilst
he lived among us) adorns the library; with which I hope it will go down to
a distant and grateful posterity. The colouring of this portrait is faded:
but it is evident that Monsieur Pichon had an expressive and sensible
physiognomy.

Wonderful to relate, this collection of books was untouched during the
Revolution; while the neighbouring library of the _Cordeliers_ was
ransacked without mercy. But I regret to say that the books in the
cupboards are getting sadly damp. Do not expect any thing very marvellous
in the details of this collection; The old-fashioned library doors, of
wood, are quite in character with what they p