The interior consists of a nave and aisles, a short transept with two chapels, a choir and aisles elevated above the level of the nave; another transept, more easterly, of larger dimensions than the former, with two semicircular recesses on the east side and two square towers to the west; a presbytery east of these, with steps to the altar and aisles continued; two chapels on the north and south sides of the altar, flights of steps behind the altar to the Trinity chapel which has aisles, and a circular building at the east end, called Becket's crown. On the north of these buildings is a cloister and a chapter house, also a small octangular structure called the baptistry. Between the latter and the cloister is a long passage, connecting the cathedral with certain very ancient buildings to the north. The principal entrance into the cathedral is by the south porch, at the base of the Chicheley steeple. After advancing into the nave, the perspective of the whole interior, from the west to almost the eastern extremity, is very fine. The choir, indeed, raised above the level of the nave, is separated from it by a magnificent flight of steps, and a stone screen; still, as the organ does not surmount this screen, but has been, in the course of repairs recently made, judiciously removed and placed on the south side, out of sight, the view of the vaulted roof is not interrupted. On each side of the nave are nine clustered columns, separating it from the aisles; and at the western end is a large painted window, containing full-length figures of saints, apostles, and sovereigns. In the lanthorn of the great tower are eight lofty windows, and the vaulting of it is adorned with elaborate tracery. The screen, which was erected by prior Henry de | Estria at a cost of 8397., consists of an arched doorway, with three niches on each side, having a pedestal, canopy, and statue to every niche. These statues are those of monarchs; but there is some uncertainty as to whom precisely they represent. In the north and south ends of the transept are painted windows. It was before the altar of St. Benedict, in the northern part -hence called the "martyrdom❞—that Becket was murdered, A. D. 1770. In the pavement is yet shown the place from which a piece of stone, sprinkled with his brains, was taken out and carried as a relic to Rome; and some larger stones, stained with blood, were conveyed to Peterborough, and made into an altar by the abbot of that monastery. Here king Edward I. was married to Margaret of France, in 1299. The choir, with its aisles, is dissimilar in style and character to the rest of the cathedral. It is bounded on the north and south by a series of six columns, alternately circular and octagonal, with screens between. The capitals of these columns somewhat resemble those of the Corinthian order; but an exact counterpart of them does not seem to be found elsewhere. East of the choir is the presbytery, corresponding nearly in style of columns and arches with the choir. The wings of the eastern transept display some interesting features, and may be referredthe lower parts at least-to Lanfranc's time. Behind the altar and the choir aisles are three flights of steps leading to the Trinity, or St. Thomas's chapel. This is a most remarkable specimen of architecture. Double columns separate the centre from the aisles, with the foliage of the capitals beautifully sculptured. The windows retain some of the finest specimens of early painted glass in the kingdom. They were probably executed in the reign of Henry III., and are chiefly composed of what is called pot-metal, glass stained in the manufactory, the outlines and shadows being formed by the lead divisions, and the faces only painted. A tesselated pave ment remains in this chapel, the only indication of the shrine of St. Thomas à Becket; but his tory can tell us of the gorgeous splendour which once here surrounded his tomb. Erasmus describes "a coffin of gold, together with inestimable riches, gold being the meanest thing to be seen there; it shone all over, and sparkled and glittered with jewels of the most rare and precious kinds, and of an extraordinary size, some of them being larger than a goose's egg." The chief other parts of the cathedral are the crypt, the cloisters, and the chapter-house. The crypt is the largest and finest in England. In one part was a chapel of the Virgin, which Erasmus describes as laden, when he saw it, with riches. The cloisters are on the northern side of the cathedral, having an enriched door-way leading from the martyrdom. In the vaulting are sculptured the shields of the benefactors to the church, to the number of 811. The chapterhouse is a lofty apartment, 92 feet by 37. THE NEW MONTHLY BELLE ASSEMBLÉE. NOVEMBER, 1846. AN EPISODE OF THE FRONDE. CHAP. XI. By Madame Léon Du Parcq. (Continued from page 206.) Lorsque nous arriverons au degré de science qui nous permettra de faire une histoire naturelle des cœurs, de les nommer, de les classer en genres, en sous-genres, en familles, en crustacées, en fossiles, en microscopiques, en que sais-je ? Alors mon bon ami, ce sera chose prouvée qu'il en existe de tendres, de delicates, comme des fleurs, et qui doivent se briser comme elles, par de légers fuissemens auxquels certains cœurs mineraux ne sont même pas sensi had acted on the banks of the Rhone: it was well for her that she dreamt not that he contrived, even in the midst of his many avocations, to be continually hovering near the residence of her aunt, in the hope of even yet catching a glimpse of her form. Though Madame de Rochemart moved in the same circle as De Retz, he had not been able to ascertain what relationship Coralie bore to her. Though Coralie's beauty had created a sensation in her introduction, still that event had been followed by others of such vital importance to the state, and to all parties, that her very exAlas! our young affections run to waste, or water istence was soon forgotten, hence her name was but the desert." bles."-De Balzac. BYRON. Oh! how hard it is for the young to learn to suffer! ful heart! Coralie de Flarigny recovered, but never again to Mariette breathed the name of him she had loved as << Paul." Poor Mariette fondly hoped that Coralie was not deeply attached, and that she would soon forget him who had so cruelly trifled with her affections. Not so was Father Vincent deceived; he knew that love, in natures like Coralie's, is not so easily eradicated. It is not in extreme youth that we have either sufficient skill or experience rightly to analyze our feelings, and Coralie herself deemed her love crushed by the indignation which she felt towards De Retz for the shameful deception he had practised. Happy was it for Coralie that she knew not that De Retz, in the midst of his political intrigues, was himself torn between the contentions of love and remorse for the part he | never mentioned by the persons of his acquain tance. 66 Madame de Rochemart was much delighted at Coralie's recovery, and failed not to inform her that the Duke de Baudricourt had called every day, and sometimes had sent his servants three or four times a day to inquire how she was. "Yes, yes, dearest," she said, "I must tell you how anxious he was, and often the tears stood in his eyes when I told him how ill you were. Well, I have also written to your father about the proposal which the Duke has made for you, and my brother replied that nothing would make him so happy as your acceptance of him, but that he left the decision entirely to yourself. So, Coralie, it is for you to determine-think what a splendid match! You will have the right of a tabouret" at court, and take precedence of us poor countesses." 66 For some time longer Madame de Rochemart continued to enumerate all the advantages likely to accrue to Coralie from such a marriage; but she listened to her with an abstracted air. At length Madame de Rochemart remarked the absent manner of her niece, and pettishly said, "What are you thinking about? What answer shall I send your father?" S Mariette was sitting, knitting, in a corner of the room, and Father Vincent was reading in an oriel window: but neither the nurse nor priest lost a word of the conversation, and both listened breathlessly for Coralie's answer. What shall I tell your father?" again inquired Madame Rochemart. After a minute's pause, Coralie said, "Tell him that I will-marry the Duke de Baudricourt." Coralie's voice did not falter as she thus sealed her fate. But an expression of intense pain overshadowed Father Vincent's countenance as he rose up and left the room. His retiring was, however, unnoticed by either Madame de Rochemart or Mariette, who were loud in their expressions of delight. Madame de Rochemart threw her arms round Coralie's neck, calling her "her dear sweet niece," and Mariette cried for joy to think her "child" would after all become "a Duchess." The Countess then ran out of the room to write to her brother, and Coralie said to her nurse," Mariette, leave me alone for a short time." Mariette kissed her cheek, and left the room to go and communicate the good news of Coralie's marriage, to the domestics of Madame de Rochemart. Coralie reclined on a couch near a window which opened on a terrace filled with orange trees: the sky was blue and light; the birds sung sweetly, and a gentle breeze wafted around the delicious perfume of the orange flower; but to Coralie all was dark and drear. "How bitter is life!" she cried; "but I have done what I ought to do. It will show the perjured priest how I scorn him! Yes, when I am Duchess de Baudricourt, with what triumph will I meet him! He will see how completely I have banished him from my heart! Yes, I know it will astonish, and perhaps grieve him to see me another's bride! And I will triumph in his pain." Her pale cheek flushed, and her sunken eye beamed for a moment with something of their former brightness. But suddenly she beheld from her window a peasant girl selling flowers; by her side walked a handsome youth, evidently her lover-they looked so happy. Coralie gazed at them, then burst into a bitter flood of tears. part Vincent refrained from courting her com fidence; he saw too well into that innocent b inexperienced mind. With deep grief he heard her give her consent to her marriage, but fe his utter inability to prevent such a measure. Besides, he conceived her honour, as well as that of her family, now engaged in her fulfilling her promises to the Duke de Baudricourt. The only alternative he had left was earnestly to pray to heaven for Coralie, to hope that he had been mistaken in her character, and that she would shortly forget a girlish fancy in the duties and brilliancy of her high position; riches, pomp, equipages, and splendid dress, he hoped would dazzle Coralie as they would most other young persons of her age. Strange to say, he now wished his darling pupil less perfect, less regardless of external splendour. But it is to those who are least accustomed to them that rank and riches possess such fascination. Coralie had been bred up in the lap of luxury, and surrounded from her infancy by all the glittering appendages of high station. It was therefore with indifference that she viewed a ducal coronet laid at her feet. The Marquis de Flarigny was rejoiced at hearing that Coralie had consented to receive the Duke de Baudricourt as her suitor, and the young Duke was now a daily visitant to the Hotel de Rochemart. The Countess was too delighted at the brilliant prospects of her niece to keep secret her engag ment to the Duke, hence the report soon cir lated that the beautiful Mademoiselle de F rigny was the aflianced bride of the young and wealthy Duke de Baudricourt. About this time Mazarin gave a fête, to which the Queen and Count were invited. On the evening appointed, the gardens of the Hote! Mazarin were brilliantly illuminated with various coloured lamps depending from the trees, and reflecting their lustre in the sparkling waters of the many fountains interspersed through the grounds. Birds of gay plumage were attached by silver chains to the branches of the orange trees, and exotics of every hue exhaled their fragrance in the long galleries, adorned with statues and pictures by the first masters. The ball-room was like a fairy palace, so light and bright it looked. The walls were hung with large polished mirrors, a luxury at that period extremely rare and costly; but Mazarin spared There was not one connecting link of sym- no expense to impose by the magnificence of pathy between Coralie and her aunt. It is said his establishment. Crystal vases, loaded with that many live, marry, and die, without ever the most exquisite flowers, were placed on pe having really known what love is. "Happy destals of marble, and everywhere the rested eye they, the happiest of their kind!" So was it on rich and glittering decorations. with Madame de Rochemart; she was, happily At the moment when Madame de Rochemart for her, quite destitute of imagination, and of and Coralie entered the room, the d'œvil coup a nature essentially "positive," mindful of the was enchanting. The splendid pierpoints and realities, not the illusions of life; a well in-just-au-corps of the gentlemen were many tentioned but weak-minded woman, who would them embroidered with pearls and precious have been as utterly unable to comprehend as stones, and aigrettes of diamonds looped up the to direct Coralie, had she opened her tortured feathers of their hats, or rather caps. heart to her. But ere Coralie avowed her love, her heart must break; she shrunk even from Father Vincent's scrutinizing eye. On his The dress of the ladies was, if possible, still more brilliant; many had long-waisted corsages of cloth of gold, with petticoats of velvet or of |