_Henri de Régnier, one of the most distinguished living poets of France, was born at Honfleur in 1864. He has published a number of novels, such as "La Double Maîtresse," in 1901, aimed at reconstructing past eras of society, and a volume of tales distinguished for their originality. His first masters were Leconte de Lisle and De Heredia, but in the beauty of his harmony and tenderness he is original. He is a symbolist, chief of that younger generation of French writers who have set out to enlarge the resources of their national poetry. Edmund Gosse says that "of the number of experiment makers ... he comes nearest to presenting a definitely evolved talent ... a genuine artist of pure and strenuous vision."_ [Illustration] THE SIGN OF THE KEY AND THE CROSS BY HENRI DE RÉGNIER Translated by Sophie Earl. Copyright, 1900, by The Current Literature Publishing Company. As I walked through the streets of the city I kept thinking of one of the stories which had been related to me by Monsieur d'Amercœur. Without having named the place where the circumstances occurred he described it minutely, so that I seemed to recognize everything. The old city, noble and monastic, crumbling in its dismantled ramparts beside the yellowish river, with, beyond, the mountains piled against the horizon; the narrow streets, half shade, half sunshine, the old walled-in houses, the churches and numerous convents, each with its chime of bells--all was familiar. I seemed to find it again exactly as he described it, this city, an old pile of stones, sombre or luminous, wrapped in warmth and solitude, and the dusty ossification, retaining for such of its monuments as were yet standing the skeleton of past grandeur. In the centre the houses were crowded in a compact mass, still vast, outside of which the buildings were scattered, while over all a sleep or torpor seemed to hover, broken suddenly at times by a tolling or a merry clang of bells. The streets, paved with flat stones or hardened with gravel, cut across each other oddly to open into squares where the markets were held. The flocks of the countryside gathered there to go away dispersed, according to their sale. The auction and the church service were, turn about, the sole occupations of the inhabitants. The place remained rustic and devout. The quick trot of the sheep pattered over the pavements, which echoed with the sandals of the monks. Pastor and flock jostled each other. The odor of the shearing mingled with the smell of woolen cloth. The air was redolent of incense and tallow. Shorn and tonsured. Shepherds and priests.