ith a better bed, and excellent fare,
beginning with a delicious cup of _cafe au lait_ in the early
morning,--that is, if you choose to breakfast and dine at the _table
d'hote_; for, if, like many English travellers, you insist on living in
English privacy, and taking your meals at English hours, all the
resources of the little establishment being expended on the public
meals, you will probably pay the penalty of your patriotic and stoical
adherence to the customs of your country.

In my passage from Weymouth to Normandy, I landed at Jersey. The little,
secluded bays of that island are the most perfect poetry of the sea.
They are types of the spot in which Horace, in his poetic mood of
imaginary misanthropy, wished to end his days.

"Oblitusque meorum obliviscendus et illis
Neptunum procul e terra spectare furentem."

I was told that the scenery of Guernsey was even more beautiful; but the
rough passage between the two islands is rather a heavy price to pay for
the enjoyment. The islands are curious from their old Norman character,
laws, and customs; their Norman _patois_; their system of small
proprietors, whose little holdings, divided from each other by high
hedges, cut the island into a multitude of paddocks; and the miniature
republicanism and universal suffrage which the inhabitants enjoy, though
under the paternal eye of an English governor, who, if the insects grew
too angry, would no doubt sprinkle a little dust. But all that is native
and original is fast being overlaid by the influx of English
residents,--unhappy victims of genteel pauperism flying from the heavy
taxes of England, which the Channel Islands escape; or, in not a few
cases, persons whose reputation has suffered some damage in their own
country. There are also a few exiles of a more honorable kind,--French
liberals, who have taken refuge from imperial tyranny under the shield
of English law,--the most illustrious of whom is Victor Hugo. The
Emperor would fain get hold of these men, and he is now trying to force
upon us a modification of the extradition treaty for that purpose. But
the sanctity of our asylum is a tradition dear to the English people,
and one which they will not be induced to betray. An attempt to change
the English law for the purposes of the French police was fatal to
Palmerston, at the height of his popularity and power.

The French government employs agents to decoy the refugees into
conspiracies, in order that it m