The town stands in a bottom, encompassed by high hills, and the largest part of it is built on a neck of land formed by the confluence of two rivers. I have often thought it like Plymouth; but it is not so large, although even now extremely populous. Its streets are narrow, winding, and dirty; and their former names have been changed into others of a revolutionary sound, such as the street of Voltaire, the street of Mably, the square of Liberty, &c. &c. The greatest part of the houses are very ancient and mean; but a few are large and stately, with walls whose thickness seems intended for endless duration. On entering them, I was surprized to see the unfinished state of most of the apartments, which are uncieled, the bare beams and cross-pieces presenting themselves to view. I shall be within the bounds of truth when I assert, that of 1500 houses, which are perhaps in the town, not fifty have each a cieled room, and not ten, or even five, have the whole apartments of the ground and first floor cieled. The bottoms of the rooms are as unsightly as the tops, from the gaping chasms of the planks which compose them; and the dirty state in which the floors and furniture are kept, is disgusting. Nevertheless in some respects the interior of these houses deserves regard. The vast mirrors which adorn their best apartments, and the beautiful plate glass of the windows, far exceed what are seen in English houses, except those of the first fashion. The French engravings I prefer to all others, and a few very good ones are still left here, though defaced, by having their dedications to princes, _maréchaux de France_, and other great men, very clumsily erased. Of plate too it is said they formerly displayed sumptuous side-boards; but these have disappeared, having been either buried or committed to the crucible. Indeed it was become necessary to adopt one or other of these measures; for soon after the 10th of August 1792, the democratic lust of destruction rose to such a height, as to order all family distinctions derived from ancestry, and all heraldic emblems whatever, to be erased, not only from the outsides of the houses, but from every article of furniture. Even the armorial bearings engraved on the most trifling toys, a snuff-box, a ring, or a seal, were obliterated; and the post-office took care to detain all letters, of which the seals were impressed with those shocking emblems of aristocracy. I now eat with spoons whence the family marks are carefully expunged, the observation of which led to my enquiries.