pictures, whistles a tune if one chooses, and then walks out again. They have not spoilt the architectural beauty (!) of S. Roch's by pews and galleries. The walls are adorned splendidly with paintings; and here and there are groups of statuary, and the altar being finely gilt and illuminated, looks magnificently. When I build a church I shall decorate it somewhat in this manner. It is good to imitate nature as much as one can in all things; and she has set us the example in this. She has adorned her great temple, the world, with green fields, and fragrant flowers, and its superb dome the firmament with stars."[121] The trotting about at S. Roch is the same to this day, which makes it the least restful of churches. SAINT-SÉVERIN. The church of S. Séverin is particularly interesting as showing a gradual development from the 13th to the 16th century. Founded upon the site of an oratory by Henri I. in 1050, it was first rebuilt at the end of the 11th century. [Illustration: SAINT-SÉVERIN FROM THE TOWERS OF NOTRE-DAME.] There were two saints of this name; one, the founder of the Abbey of Châteaulandon, who miraculously cured Clovis I. of some sickness by placing his chasuble upon him; and the other, the patron of this church, a monk, or rather a hermit, who lived during the reign of Childebert I., in a cell near Paris, and was of course much given to prayer and supplications, and other pious exercises. Considering the brutal manners and customs of the early sovereigns and their companions, it is a blessed sign that human nature, even in those dark ages, was not completely diabolical; and to find that some men and women cared for other matters than fire and sword and pillage. S. Séverin was one of these more peaceful souls; and so well did he preach his pacific faith, that S. Cloud, or Clodoaldus, the grandson of Queen Clotilde, became one of his disciples, and received the religious habit of the Benedictine order from him. S. Cloud was the youngest of the sons of Chlodomir, one of three brothers who suffered from the murderous inclinations of wicked uncles. What brigands they all were! Imagine a woman being asked in all seriousness whether she preferred death or the tonsure for her grandchildren. No wonder monasteries and convents flourished, for where else was there any culture, enlightenment, civilization, or even safety to life and limb? And yet Clotilde must have had some reason for her passionate answer, "Better they were dead than shaven monks!" for she must have foreseen that such an exclamation could only lead to assassination, and thus we find that S. Cloud alone of the brothers escaped death, and became a shaven Benedictine.