cter.
"Perhaps," said M. Le Prevost, "the last efforts of Roman art previous to
the relinquishment of the Romans." Among these capitals there is one of the
perfect Doric order; while in another you discover the remains of two Roman
eagles. The columns are all of the same height; and totally unlike every
thing of the kind which I have seen or heard of.

We descended the hill upon which _St. Gervais_ is built, and walked onward
towards _St. Paul_, situated at the further and opposite end of the town,
upon a gentle eminence, just above the Banks of the Seine.[59] M. Le
Prevost was still our conductor. This small edifice is certainly of remote
antiquity, but I suspect it to be completely Norman. The eastern end is
full of antiquarian curiosities. We observed something like a Roman mask as
the centre ornament upon the capital of one of the circular figures; and
Mr. Lewis made a few slight drawings of one of the grotesque heads in the
exterior, of which the hair is of an uncommon fashion. The _Saxon whiskers_
are discoverable upon several of these faces. Upon the whole, it is
possible that parts of this church may have been built at the latter end of
the tenth century, after the Normans had made themselves completely masters
of this part of the kingdom; yet it is more probable that there is no
vestige left which claims a more ancient date than that of the end of the
eleventh century. I ought just to notice the church of _St. Sever_,[60]
supposed by some to be yet more ancient: but I had no opportunity of taking
a particular survey of it.

Thus much, or rather thus little, respecting the ECCLESIASTICAL ANTIQUITIES
of Rouen. They merit indeed a volume of themselves. This city could once
boast of upwards of _thirty parish churches_; of which very nearly a
_dozen_ have been recently (I mean during the Revolution) converted into
_warehouses_. It forms a curious, and yet melancholy melange--this strange
misappropriation of what was formerly held most sacred, to the common and
lowest purposes of civil life! You enter these warehouses, or offices of
business, and see the broken shaft, the battered capital, and
half-demolished altar-piece--the gilded or the painted frieze--in the midst
of bales of goods--casks, ropes, and bags of cotton: while, without, the
same spirit of demolition prevails in the fractured column, and tottering
arch way. Thus time brings its changes and decays--premature as well as
natural: and the noise of the car-