ect-arising from simplicity or breadth of architecture. The
pillars to the right of the nave, on entering from the western extremity,
are doubtless old; perhaps of the beginning of the thirteenth century. The
arches are a flattened semicircle; while those on the opposite side are
comparatively sharp, and of a considerably later period. The ornaments of
the capitals of these older pillars are, some of them, sufficiently
capricious and elaborate; while others are of a more exceptionable
character on the score of indelicacy. But this does not surprise a man who
has been accustomed to examine ART, of the middle centuries, whether in
sculpture or in painting. The side aisles are comparatively modern. The
pillars of the choir have scarcely any capitals beyond a simple rim or
fillet; and are surmounted by sharp low arches, like what are to be seen at
St. Lo and Coutances. The roof of the left side aisle is perfectly green
from damp: the result, as at Coutances, of thereof having been stripped for
the sake of the lead to make bullets, &c. during the Revolution. I saw this
large church completely filled on Sunday, at morning service--about eleven:
and, in the congregation, I observed several faces and figures, of both
sexes, which indicated great intelligence and respectability. Indeed there
was much of the air of a London congregation about the whole.

From the Church, we may fairly make any thing but a digression--in
discoursing of one of its brightest ornaments, in the person of Monsieur
LANGEVIN:--a simple priest--as he styles himself in an octavo volume, which
entitles him to the character of the best living HISTORIAN OF FALAISE. He
is a mere officiating minister in the church of Mons. Mouton; and his
salary, as he led me to infer, could be scarcely twenty louis per annum.
Surely this man is among the most amiable and excellent of God's creatures!
But it is right that you should know the origin and progress of our
acquaintance. It was after dinner, on one of the most industriously spent
of my days here--and the very second of my arrival,--that the waiter
announced the arrival of the Abbe Langevin, in the passage, with a copy of
his History beneath his arm. The door opened, and in walked the
stranger--habited in his clerical garb--with a physiognomy so benign and
expressive, and with manners so gentle and well-bred,--that I rose
instinctively from my seat to give him the most cordial reception. He
returned my civility in a way