hat these
reposoirs, a few hours after the performance of the ceremony just
described, are indiscriminately broken up: the flowers and the little sand
banks falling equally a prey to the winds and the feet of the passenger.

Opposite to the inn was an hospital for the female sick. It had been
formerly an establishment of very considerable extent and celebrity; but
whether it was originally connected with the hospital of the _Leproserie de
Saint Lasare_, (about which the Abbe Langevin's History of Falaise is
rather curious) the _Hotel-Dieu_, or the _Hopital General_, I cannot take
upon me to pronounce. Certain it is, however, that this establishment does
great credit to those who have the conduct of it. As foreigners, and
particularly as Englishmen, we were permitted to see the whole, without
reserve. On my return from witnessing the ceremony at the church of the
Trinity, I visited this hospital: my companion having resumed his graphic
operations before the Castle. I shall not easily forget the face and figure
of the matron. To a countenance of masculine feature, and masculine
complexion--including no ordinary growth of beard, of a raven tint--she
added a sturdy, squat, muscular figure--which, when put into action, moved
in a most decided manner. A large bunch of massive keys was suspended from
a girdle at her side; and her dress, which was black, was rendered more
characteristic and striking, by the appearance of, what are yet called,
_bustles_ above her hips. As she moved, the keys and the floor seemed
equally to shake beneath her steps. The elder Smirke would have painted
this severe Duenna-like looking matron with inimitable force and truth.
But ... she no sooner opened her mouth, than all traits of severity
vanished. Her voice was even musical, and her "facon de parler" most
gracious. She shewed me the whole establishment with equal good humour
and alertness; and I don't know when I ever made such a number of bows
(to the several female patients in the wards) within such limited time
and space. The whole building has the air of a convent; and there were
several architectural relics, perhaps of the end of the fifteenth
century, which I only regretted were not of portable dimensions; as,
upon making enquiry, little objection seemed to be made to the
gratuitous disposal of them.

The hour for departure, after sun-set, having arrived, we were summoned to
the Diligence when, bidding adieu to the very worthy host and host