e approached; we turn to the left, and commence our
journey in good earnest. Previously to gaining the first considerable
height, you pass the village of _Bapeaume_. This village is exceedingly
picturesque. It is studded with water-mills, and is enlivened by a rapid
rivulet, which empties itself, in a serpentine direction, into the Seine.
You now begin to ascend a very commanding eminence; at the top of which are
scattered some of those country houses which are seen from Mont Ste.
Catharine. The road is of a noble breadth. The day warmed; and dismounting,
we let our steeds breathe freely, as we continued to ascend leisurely. Our
first halting-place, according to the instructions of M. Le Prevost, was
_St. George de Boscherville_; an ancient abbey established in the twelfth
century, This abbey is situated about three French leagues from Rouen. Our
route thither, from the summit of the hill which we had just ascended, lay
along a road skirted by interminable orchards now in full bloom. The air
was perfumed to excess by the fragrance of these blossoms. The apple and
pear were beautifully conspicuous; and as the sky became still more serene,
and the temperature yet more mild by the unobstructed sun beam, it is
impossible to conceive any thing more balmy and genial than was this lovely
day. The minutes seemed to fly away too quickly--when we reached the
village of _Boscherville_; where stands the CHURCH; the chief remaining
relic of this once beautiful abbey. We surveyed the west front very
leisurely, and thought it an extremely beautiful specimen of the
architecture of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries; for certainly there
are some portions more ancient than others. A survey of the chapter-house
filled me with mingled sorrow and delight: sorrow, that the Revolution and
a modern cotton manufactory had metamorphosed it from its original
character; and delight, that the portions which remained were of such
beautiful forms, and in such fine preservation. The stone, being of a very
close-grained quality, is absolutely as white and sound as if it had been
just cut from the quarry. The room, where a parcel of bare-legged girls and
boys were working the respective machineries, had a roof of the most
delicate construction.[79]

The very sound of a _Monastery_ made me curious to examine the disposition
of the building. Accordingly, I followed my guide through suites of
apartments, up divers stone stair-cases, and along sundry corrid