inquire into the
causes of this difference in national manners hereafter.

The Seine narrows at Quilleboeuf, about thirty miles from Havre, to the
width of an ordinary European tide river. On a high bluff we passed a
ruin, called _Tancarville_, which was formerly a castle of the De
Montmorencies. This place was the cradle of one of William's barons; and
an English descendant, I believe, has been ennobled by the title of Earl
of Tankerville.

Above Quilleboeuf the river becomes exceedingly pretty. It is crooked, a
charm in itself, has many willowy islands, and here and there a grey
venerable town is seated in the opening of the high hills which contract
the view, with crumbling towers, and walls that did good service in the
times of the old English and French wars. There were fewer seats than
might have been expected, though we passed three or four. One near the
waterside, of some size, was in the ancient French style, with avenues
cut in formal lines, mutilated statues, precise and treeless terraces,
and other elaborated monstrosities. These places are not entirely
without a pretension to magnificence; but, considered in reference to
what is desirable in landscape gardening, they are the very _laid ideal_
of deformity. After winding our way for eight or ten hours amid such
scenes, the towers of Rouen came in view. They had a dark ebony-coloured
look, which did great violence to our Manhattanese notions, but which
harmonized gloriously with a bluish sky, the grey walls beneath, and a
background of hanging fields.

Rouen is a sea-port; vessels of two hundred, or two hundred and fifty
tons burden, lying at its quays. Here is also a custom-house, and our
baggage was again opened for examination. This was done amid a great
deal of noise and confusion, and yet so cursorily as to be of no real
service. At Havre, landing as we did in the night, and committing all to
Desiree the next day, I escaped collision with subordinates. But, not
having a servant, I was now compelled to look after our effects in
person. W---- protested that we had fallen among barbarians; what
between brawls, contests for the trunks, cries, oaths, and snatching,
the scene was equally provoking and comic.

Without schooling, without training of any sort, little checked by
morals, pressed upon by society, with nearly every necessary of life
highly taxed, and yet entirely loosened from the deference of feudal
manners, the Frenchmen of this class have, in