The Argosy — page 171: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

154 Far Normandy. in the neighbourhood are full of charm. The views from the heights are wonderful. Rouen lies sleeping in a hollow, her tall factory chimneys rising like a small forest about her. A blue atmosphere hangs over her. ‘The broad Seine winds her silvery course, and may be traced far away, hurrying to the sea. ‘There is life and movement on her surface, for craft of all sorts and sizes are passing to and fro. You may take the steamer to Havre every day, or to Elbeuf, and you will be charmed with the journey. ‘The banks of the Seine offer a rich variety of scenery. It is, indeed a laughing and smiling land- scape: more charming and English in its aspect than will be found in any other part of France. Throughout Normandy will be found the beautiful flower-gemmed hedgerows which are so peculiar to Eng- land, and give to English scenery its rich distinctive character. It was with the greatest reluctance that we prepared to leave the old town, with all its ancient and historical associations. Here one lived another life, breathed another atmosphere. It was sufficient charm to wander to the cathedral, and feast one’s eyes upon all that beauty of architecture, time-worn and refined to the delicacy of lace work. It was a delight to pass through the portals of St. Ouen, and gaze upon all that free expanse of perfect Gothic architecture. One felt raised and elevated above the ordinary world. It had the effect upon one of some sweet-toned instrument; of grand harmonies poured forth in anuninterrupted stream. ‘The spirit felt soothed and refreshed ; one’s physical condition gained by the experience; the nerves that perhaps were recently all ajar were immediately calmed as if lulled by a narcotic. ‘The mind fell into repose. Visions and dreams of a higher life and a better world took possession of the fancy. The mantle of care and sorrow—that unseen but very real garment that we most of us have to wear, though it may be invisible to mortal eyes other than our own—falls from the shoulders on these occasions, and we rise free and unshackled above our ordinary selves. We felt equally out of the world when wandering about the ancient streets that still remain to tell of what has been. Half a century ago, Rouen was quite a medizeval city: a city of gables, of dormer windows and latticed panes and red roofs. Her pinnacles rose upwards in countless numbers. Her churches seemed fitting guardians of so much antiquity. The silver curfew rang out nightly over one of the fairest and quaintest scenes of earth. Her people went to and fro in their curious costumes, fulfilling their simple annals. ‘The power of steam had not as yet been heard or seen, hurrying men to and fro upon the earth. Paris was still far off, and the outer world was a dream. Theriver flowed onwards to the sea, and people occupied themselves little with its rise and fall. Lives were primitive, even half a century ago. It is since then that the world has awakened and things have changed. It cannot all be for the better, even in an age of progress. For progress also means transition ; and in every state of transition someone must suffer. Gomichbooks.¢co () m