his art, and the devotee had repaired to

Breathe a prayer for her soul--and pass on!

What a contrast to the present aspect of things!--to the mixed rubbish and
wild flowers with which every spot is now well nigh covered! The mistress
of the inn having furnished us with napkins and tumblers, we partook of our
dinner, surrounded by the objects just described, with no ordinary
sensations. The air now became oppressive; when, looking through the few
remaining unglazed mullions of the windows, I observed that the clouds grew
blacker and blacker, while a faint rumbling of thunder reached our ears.
The sun however yet shone gaily, although partially; and as the storm
neared us, it floated as it were round the abbey, affording--by means of
its purple, dark colour, contrasted with the pale tint of the walls,--one
of the most beautiful painter-like effects imaginable. In an instant
almost--and as if touched by the wand of a mighty necromancer--the whole
scene became metamorphosed. The thunder growled, but only growled; and the
threatening phalanx of sulphur-charged clouds rolled away, and melted into
the quiet uniform tint which usually precedes sun-set. Dinner being
dispatched, I rose to make a thorough examination of the ruins which had
survived ... not only the Revolution, but the cupidity of the present owner
of the soil--who is a _rich_ man, living at Rouen--and who loves to dispose
of any portion of the stone, whether standing or prostrate, for the sake of
the lucre, however trifling, which arises from the sale. Surely the whole
corporation of the city of Rouen, with the mayor at their head, ought to
stand between this ruthless, rich man, and the abbey--the victim of his
brutal avarice and want of taste.[83]

The situation of the abbey is delightful. It lies at the bottom of some
gently undulating hills, within two or three hundred yards of the Seine.
The river here runs gently, in a serpentine direction, at the foot of
wood-covered hills--and all seemed, from our elevated station, indicative
of fruitfulness, of gaiety, and of prosperity,--all--save the mournful and
magnificent remains of the venerable abbey whereon we gazed! In fact, this
abbey exists only as a shell. I descended, strolled about the village, and
mingled in the conversation of the villagers. It was a lovely approach of
evening--and men, women, and children were seated, or sauntering, in the
open air. Perceiving that I was anxious to gain information, the