ark for all the country round. The other is crowned by a small
Renaissance lantern and roof, the work of the Duchess Anne. The
beautiful west portal is no longer perfect. Its porch or canopy fell in
1824, and has never been replaced; and better so. The porch of the south
doorway is large, and so magnificent that it alone would be worth a
pilgrimage. It is called the Apostles' porch, and is also supposed to
have been the work of the good Duchess. Not far from it are the remains
of what must have been a very lovely cross. The carving of the porch is
of great delicacy and refinement; and, less exposed to the elements than
the west doorway, is in far better preservation. Here are graceful
scrolls and mouldings of vine leaves and other devices curiously
interwoven; the leaves so minutely carved that you may trace their veins
and fringes. The arms of Brittany and France are also cunningly
intertwined. Round the west doorway are wreaths of vines and thistles,
with birds and serpents introduced amongst fruit and flowers. Above the
doorway is an elaborate sculpture of the Nativity and the Adoration of
the Magi. Joseph is represented--it is often the case in Breton
carvings--as a Breton peasant, wearing the clumsy wooden shoes of the
country. He would have found himself somewhat embarrassed in them when
crossing the desert. But the Bretons, behind the rest of the world, had
no ideas beyond those that came to them from practical experience, and
the picturesque dignity of an Eastern dress was far beyond their
imagination. The centre pier of the doorway is formed into a niche
enclosing the basin for holy water, protected by a carved canopy of
great beauty; but time and exposure have worn away much of the sharpness
of the work.

[Illustration: LANDERNEAU.]

The gables of the transept are decorated with open parapets; and at the
east end, below a rose window remarkable for its tracery, an arched
niche protects the water of the fountain of Soloman the idiot: the
actual spring itself being beneath the high altar.

These waters, like those of the lovely fountain of St. Jean du Doigt,
are supposed to be miraculous, and are the object of many a pilgrimage,
though fortunately for the village, the day of its _Pardon_ is not the
chief occasion for the assembling together of the blind, halt, maimed
and withered folk of Brittany. But the pilgrims bathe in the waters,
which are said to possess the gift of healing, and we know that faith
alone