stament." The Jesuits held the Jansenists in a horror which the
Jansenists reciprocated; the Pope owed almost too heavy a debt of
gratitude to the order of Saint Ignatius and was constrained to repay.
But the Bull, instead of procuring peace, brought the greatest
affliction and desolation of mind to His Holiness, and when later, the
French envoy asked him why he had condemned such an odd number of
propositions, the Pope seizing his arm burst into tears.

"Ah Monsieur Amelot! Monsieur Amelot! What would you have me do? I
strove hard to curtail the list, but Pere Le Tellier"--Louis XIV's last
confessor and a devoted Jesuit--"had pledged his word to the King that
the book contained more than one hundred errors, and with his foot on my
neck, he compelled me to prove him right. I condemned only one more!"

The Cathedral of Senez is an humble village church where frank and
simple poverty exists with the remains of ancient splendour. It is
small, as are all churches of its style, and although it does not lack a
homely dignity, it is a modest work of XII century Romanesque, and the
sonorous title of its consecration in 1242, "the Assumption of the
Blessed Virgin Mary," suggests an impressiveness which the Cathedral
never had.

Two heavy buttresses that support the facade wall are reminiscent of the
more majestic Notre-Dame-du-Bourg of Digne, and on them rest the ends of
a pointed gable-roof. Between these buttresses, the wall is pierced by a
long and graceful round-arched window, and below the window is the
single, pointed portal whose columns are gone and whose delicate
foliated carvings and mouldings are sadly worn away. A sun-dial painted
on the wall tells the time of day, and at the gable's sharpest point a
saucy little angel with a trumpet in his mouth blows with the wind.

[Illustration: THE CATHEDRAL.--SENEZ.]

Entering the little portal, the traveller saw the poor wooden benches of
the congregation massed together, and beyond them, the stalls of
long-departed Canons. In front of these old stalls, stood the church's
latest luxury, a melodeon, and above them hung the tapestries of its
richer past. Tapestries also beautify the choir-walls, and on either
side, are the narrow transepts and the apses of a good old style. There
are also poor and tawdry altars which stand in strange, pitiable
contrast with the old walls and the fine tunnel vaulting, the dignified
architecture of the past.

[Illustration: "TAPESTRIES BEAUT