it of every thing in the shape of a book.  The whole was painted white.  I counted eleven perpendicular divisions; and, from the small distances between the upper shelves, there must have been a very considerable number of duodecimos.  The titles of the respective classes of the library were painted in white letters upon a dark-blue ground, at top. Bibles occupied the first division, and the Fathers the second:  but it should seem that equal importance was attached to the works of Heretics as to those called Litterae Humaniores—­for each had a division of equal magnitude.

On looking out of window, especially from the back part of the building, the eye rests entirely upon what had once been fruitful orchards, abundant kitchen gardens, and shady avenues.  Yet in England, this spot, rich by nature, and desirable from its proximity to a great city, would, ere forty moons had waned, have grown up into beauty and fertility, and expanded into luxuriance of condition.

The day was now, if possible, more lovely than before.  On looking at my instructions I found that we had to stop to examine the remains of an old castle at Delafontaine—­about two English miles from St. George de Boscherville.  These remains, however, are but the fragments of a ruin, if I may so speak; yet they are interesting, but somewhat perilous:  for a few broken portions of a wall support an upper chamber, where appears a stone chimney-piece of very curious construction and ornament.  On observing a large cavity or loop-hole, about half way up the outer wall, I gained it by means of a plentiful growth of ivy, and from thence surveyed the landscape before me.  Here, having for some time past lost sight of the Seine, I caught a fine bold view of the sweep of that majestic river, now becoming broader and broader—­while, to the left, softly tinted by distance, appeared the beautiful old church we had just quitted:  the verdure of the hedges, shrubs, and forest trees, affording a rich variety to the ruddy blossoms of the apple, and the white bloom of the pear.  I admit, however, that this delicious morceau of landscape was greatly indebted, for its enchanting effect, to the blue splendour of the sky, and the soft temperature of the air; while the fragrance of every distended blossom added much to the gratification of the beholder.  But it is time to descend from this elevation; and to think of reaching Duclair.

DUCLAIR is situated close to the very borders of the Seine, which has now an absolute lake-like appearance.  We stopped at the auberge to rest our horses; and I commenced a discourse with the master of the inn and his daughter; the latter, a very respectable-looking and well-behaved young woman of about twenty-two years of age.  She was preparing a large crackling wood-fire to dress a fish called the Alose, for the passengers of the diligence—­who were expected within half an hour.  The French think they can