architects, and still existing in some of our old churches. There is one of exquisite beauty in the south aisle of Regensburg Cathedral, and at Coutances there are two in the transepts. S. Germain des Prés also had its miraculous well, but it is now closed up. There is yet another one at the corner of Rues S. Jacques and S. Séverin, which formerly bore the name of Julien, but is now re-christened S. Séverin. It was re-constructed in the 17th century and bore the following inscription by the poet Santeuil: DUM SCANDUNT JUGA MONTIS ANHELO PECTORE NYMPHÆ, HIC UNA E SOCIIS VALLIS AMORE SEDET. Which is prettily rendered by d'Amaury Duval: "Tandis que les nymphes, haletantes, montent vers le sommet de la montagne, l'une d'elles, éprise de la beauté du vallon, y fixe sa demeure." The third saint who disputes the patronage of this particular church is S. Julian Hospitator, who watches over travellers, ferrymen, boatmen and travelling minstrels. He was a nobleman much given to the chase, and one day, while pursuing a deer, the frightened creature turned round, and cried out, "Thou followest me, thou who wilt one day kill thy father and mother."[93] Thereupon Julian rushed away to a far country, where he was made a knight, and much honoured by the king. But his parents, grieved at his loss, set off to try and find him, and coming to his castle, they made themselves known to his wife, who put them in their son's chamber, and left them for the night. In the morning she went to early mass to give thanks for this great mercy, and during her absence, Julian, finding the old people in his room, and not recognizing them in the dim light of dawn, turned upon them and slew them, as it seems, somewhat hastily. Then Julian resolved to depart and devote himself to some good work; but his wife would not let him go alone, so they journeyed until they came to a great river, where many people were drowned in trying to ford it, and there they set up a hermitage and a hospital, and a ferry boat for travellers free of charge. One day, when a leper presented himself, Julian not only ferried him over, but carried him in his arms to his own bed, and tended him with the aid of his good wife. And in the morning the leper arose, transformed, and saying, "Julian, the Lord hath sent me to thee; thy penitence is accepted, and thy rest and that of thy wife is near at hand," vanished out of their sight. And shortly after, both Julian and his wife fell asleep.[94] The Cathedral of Rouen possesses a window presented by the company of _bateliers-pêcheurs_ in the 14th century, upon which this legend of the ferry is represented. [Illustration: BAS-RELIEF OF THE FERRY.]