"François, my friend, here is a lady come to pay you a visit."

He raised his eyes quickly upon the person so introduced, slightly contracted his brow as he resumed his occupation, and murmured to himself, "Yes! you do resemble Younette; but she is young, and you—like myself— very old; besides, Younette is yonder beneath ths cypress trees, waiting for me to come."

At this name, the actress started: “It is very strange !" she remarked, "what can he mean? Younette is no common name! yet I know him not. Do, pray doctor, be good enough to inform me the name of this unfortunate young man ?"

"Mademoiselle, I know no name of him than that he is called François, and from his accent, is a native of Brittany." The doctor then related the event that first led to his being taken under his care. He has a singular trait in his mania, that of imagining an interesting little girl, recently deceased, was the object of his infantine love, whom he calls Younette; but in fact, her baptismal name was Rosette."

Some further explanation ensuing, Mademoiselle Aline B......... discovered that Rosette was the daughter of her washerwoman, who had frequently praised the philanthropic friendship of the doctor in taking upon himself to provide for her daughter, had it pleased Providence to have spared the child. "It must be so," exclaimed the lady; "tis a strange retribution of HeavenI would I had been spared the pang this interview inflicts, or that memory slumbered, as it does with yon poor maniac. May I be permitted to visit his chamber and that of his imaginary Younette? I am extremely curious to collect every particular, so well authenticated, of a man whom love has really driven mad." The first thing that struck her notice was a little bouquet of dead herbs placed in a crystal vase of water.

“Alas!” said she, "I have not so carefully preserved the youthful gift of love, the medal you gave me at parting I gave as a plaything to the little Rosette,-it long since has doubtless been lost; but thy constancy, François, has preserved the very fragments of my present, though crumbled into dust. Thou hast not forgotten me; but well might repeat, "Forget me not',' when last we parted. The feelings that now crowd upon my heart are almost too painful to endure; what would I not give never to have deserved them, or to restore to that poor man those early vows of fidelity which time and circumstances have made me treat so lightly in after years!"

"You perceive, mademoiselle," observed the doctor, as he pointed towards François, 66 'my patient is perfectly gentle; hark! he is singing a I Breton ballad as he waters those dead sticks, similar to some which

found carefully sewn within his waistcoat, when he was conducted to my house. I wish his mania had exhibited itself in a more violent manner,my hopes of his restoration to reason would have been greater; for I now fear no lucid interval will again return. Madness, that assumes the extreme of melancholy, or that of settled content, has rarely, by any treatment I could adopt, ever rewarded my exertions with a perfect cure.”

"Oh! doctor, never attempt it; in this instance to cure him would be cruelty. You cannot read my heart, and may possibly think me somewhat mad myself; but do not cure him, he is now happy, and reason would render him most wretched. I thank you sincerely for your kindness in permitting me to visit this scene; and in any way that I can con tribute to render François' situation more comfortable, do not feel offended at the offer of my purse, and best exertions in any way to attain that object. I feel an interest in him I cannot express; but I at once abandon all idea of copying from nature, à part that is to represent human nature degraded into imbecility by the effects of the noblest feeling that man can boast of, that of TRUTH and fidelity to the early impressions of innocent affection."

CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL.

The principal public building at Canterbury is the Cathedral, which stands on the north east part of the city, and which with the various edifices that belong to it occupies a very large extent of ground. It contains specimens of the style of architecture of almost every age from the arrival of the Normans to the time of its dissolution, and is equally remarkable for the magnificence of its general appearance, for the splendour of its architecture, and for the excellence of its monumental sculpture. The general form of this noble pile is that of a double cross, with a circular termination at the east, and two massive towers at the west end, while a third tower, which is still more elegant than the other two, rises from the intersection of the nave and the west transept. The whole of it was newly paved with plain Portland stone in the year 1788. The principal parts of the cathedral, or those the most deserving of notice, are, the west front with its large and elegant window between two towers, the south porch, which forms the chief entrance to the fane; the chapel of the Virgin, which is à fine specimen of the pointed style of architecture; St. Michael's chapel; the choir, which is reckoned the most extensive in the kingdom, and is fitted up in a very handsome manner; the chapel of the Holy Trinity, which contained the shrine of Becket; the treasury, the audit room, the library, the chapter house, and the cloisters.

332

THE KNOUT.

(Concluded.)

These punishments were unhappily too frequent in noblemen's establishments to be long remembered, even by the sufferers themselves; and all resentment was readily drowned in brandy, between the executioner and the culprit, as well as between the culprit and the cause, where the parties were Russians. But Gregery was a Greek-cunning, revengeful, dissimulating. The words he had muttered after his punishment contained a threat he was fostering in his heart against the countess. He only waited a fit occasion to carry it into effect. He had again resumed his functions about the general's person, and in his capacity of barber, like others of his fraternity in all parts of the world, enjoyed moro familiarity with his master than would have been tolerated from any one else. While gently removing the count's superfluous beard, the conversation turned upon some act of bravery performed by Foodore during the Italian war. "Yes, your excellency, Captain Romayloff is doubtless brave as his sword; except his pride, I should think him faultless."

"His pride!" answered the count.

"I beg pardon, your excellency, I should have said Captain Romayloff's ambition."

"Ambition? Master Gregory, that is a worse word still, for he way pretend justly from his bravery to the highest honours of his country."

"Pardon me, your excellency, I am not quite understood; there is an ambition that sometimes leads a man to forget his gratitude to those who have raised his fortunes from the dust, and induces him to sting the breast that nurtured him ;-there is an ambition that teaches a man to become a traitor to every honourable feeling.”

"Gregory !"-angrily remarked the count, "you are getting upon dangerous grounds, and have already said too much to retract your words. I insist upon your giving me instantly some explanation of the ideas that seem to float so strangely in your head against Captain Romayloff. With the cunning that marks your nation, sir,-you have repeatedly insinuated before, that Captain Romayloff loves my daughter, and would now imply he does so contrary to her known engagements.

"I have not said so,-but if I had, a Greek knows how to suffer punishment with patience when he speaks the truth."

"And most severe shall the punishment be, sir, if you do not give me certain proof of what you dare to call the truth. Answer me frankly, if