g specimens of ancient painting
upon glass, I longed to fix an artist before every window, to bear away
triumphantly, in a portfolio of elephantine dimensions, a faithful copy of
almost every thing I saw. In some of the countenances, I fancied I traced
the pencil of LUCAS CRANACH--and even of HANS HOLBEIN.

This church has numerous side chapels, and figures of patron-saints. The
entombment of Christ in white marble, (at the end of the chapel of the
Virgin,) is rather singular; inasmuch as the figure of Christ itself is
ancient, and exceedingly fine in anatomical expression; but the usual
surrounding figures are modern, and proportionably clumsy and inexpressive.
I noted one mural monument, to the memory of _Guillaume Tellier_, which was
dated 1484.[86] Few churches have more highly interested me than this at
Caudebec.[87] From the church I strolled to the _Place_, where stood the
caffe, by the banks of the Seine. The morning view of this scene perfectly
delighted me. Nothing can be more picturesque. The river cannot be much
less than a mile in width, and it makes a perfect bend in the form of a
crescent. On one side, that on which the village stands, are walks and
gardens through which peep numerous white villas--and on the other are
meadows, terminating in lofty rising grounds--feathered with coppice-wood
down to the very water's edge. This may be considered, in fact, only a
portion of the vast _Forest de Brotonne_, which rises in wooded majesty on
the opposite heights. The spirit and the wealth of our countrymen would
make Caudebec one of the most enchanting summer-residences in the world.
The population of the town is estimated at about five thousand.

Judge of my astonishment, when, on going out of doors, I saw the river in a
state of extreme agitation: the whole mass of water rising perpendicularly,
as it were, and broad rippling waves rolling over each other. It was the
_coming in of the tide_.... and within a quarter of an hour it appeared to
have risen upwards of three feet. You may remember that, in our own
country, the Severn-tides exhibit the same phenomenon; and I have seen the
river at Glocester rise _at once_ to the height of eight or ten feet,
throwing up a shower of foam from the gradually narrowing bed of the river,
and causing all the craft, great and small, to rise up as if by magic, and
to appear upon a level with the meadows. The tide at Caudebec, although
similar in kind, was not so in degree; for i