f 1 ^ssg^ag sS'lB 'f '/'/'sux; sltr.t ■ •> 11 ^) THE GREAT CATHEDRALS OF THE WORLD. TH P J OF THE WORLD. ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY FULL-PAGE PLATES, EXECUTED IN PHOTOGRAVURE; WITH EXPLANATORY AND DESCRIPTIVE TEXT, By FRED H. ALLEN. BOSTON: HASKELL & POST. CONTENTS. Introduction. PAGE Exeter, . PAGE 69 Westminster Abbey, 1 WELLS,. 81 Canterbury, .... 9 DURHAM, . 93 Salisbury,. 21 Antwerp. 105 York, . 33 COLOGNE, . 117 Ely,. 45 Strasburg . 129 Saint Paul’s,. 57 Saint Peter’s. 141 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Westminster Abbey, . Frontispieee • Nave, . T ° « ge 78 From Dean’s Garden, . T6 F#CE AGE \ Composition Plate, ’ 80 Choir and Chaneel, 4 - Wells, West Front, . . . ” ’ 82 Tomb of Henry V., 6 • East, . ’ 84 Composition Plate, . . ” ’ 8 • Choir, . ’ 86 Canterbury, West Front, 10 ■ Nave,.” ’ 88 From Southwest, . 13 - Composition Plate, . . ” ’ 90 Choir, East, .... 14 - Durham, Southwest, ’ 92 Nave, ...... ” 17. From River, . ” ’ 94 Composition Plate, . 18 . Choir, . ’ 96 Salisbury, West Front, . " 20 • Nave, . . ’ 100 From Northeast, . . ” ’ 24 ■ Composition Plate, . . ” ’ 104 Chaneel,. ” 26- Antwerp, West Front, ’. . ” ’ 106 Choir, West, ... ’’ ' 28 - From Rubens’ Monument, ” ’ 110 Composition Plate, 30 ■ Choir,.” ’ 112 York Minster, from Southeast, ’’ 32 ■ Crueifixion a!nd Descent, ” ’ 114 West Front, 36 - Pulpit, .” ’ 116 Nave, East.” 38 * Cologne, West Front, . . ” ’ 118 Five Sisters, ....”’ 40 . South, .” ’ 120 Composition Plate, . . ” ’ 44 - Choir, East, . " ’ 122 Ely, from the South, . . ” ’ 46 ■ Nave,. ’ 124 North,.” ’ 48 • Composition Plate, ’ 128 Choir, East, ....’’’ 50 ■ Strasburg, West Front, . . ” ’ 130 Nave, .” ’ 52 - North. ’ 132 Composition Plate, ” 54 ■ Composition Plate, . . ” ’ 136 Saint Paul’s, Southwest, 56 ’ Nave,. ’ 138 West Front, ....”’ 60 ■ Astronomical Clock, ... ” ' 140 Choir, West, . . . . ” ’ 62 ’ Saint Peter’s, West Front, . ’ 142 Nave, East.” ’ 64 Nave, .” ’ 144 Composition Plate, ” ’ 66 ■ Baldaehino, ’ 146 Exeter, East,.” ’ 70 -. Sepulchres, . ... " ’ 148 West Front, ....”’ 72 ' Composition Plate, ’ 152 Choir, .” ’ 74 ’ INTRODUCTION. “ In larger hearted times , Men stood with nature face to face , and wrought Such love and -passion in each fervid stroke , Their glory , our despair. To us are left But empty wonder, admiration vain. Rternal nature in her pomp goes past; These giants stand up in the very front , And hide her from u$. We live on them , Feed on their thoughts. To our graves we walk In the thick foot-prints of departed men.” A most inestimable advantage to the student of history, is resi- denee in the neighborhood of renowned historieal monuments. To have visited a place where a great event oeeurred, to have seen a statue or . entered the tomb of an illustrious man, is the next thing to have personally shared in the event, or witnessed the seene with our own eyes. Monuments have been ereeted to the memory of prince and noble: pyramids have preserved the remains of mighty kings; arches have repeated the fame of warrior ehiefs; pillars have pierced the heavens to point to the victories of nations—these being raised only for the aggrandisement of human power—possess the least value to him who would read the poetry and tragedy of human life. Far more closely are the threads of history woven into the records of a nation’s faith, its aspirations, and its hope. It is not too mueh to say that if any one would visit the various spots of interest in and around the ehurehes and cathedrals of the world and ask, what transpired here? who was the man for whom this tomb was built? why was he buried here? what influence had he upon the world? a real knowledge of the world’s history would be vi obtained,— especially sinee the dawn of the Christian Era, sueh as the reading of books or hearing of leetures would fail utterly to supply. It is not the object of the present volume to teaeh history, but rather to so present the greatest ecclesiastical structures of the world, that their origin and character may become familiar, and something may be learned of the impulses and aspirations of those generations of men who have left to the eenturies sueh monuments of glorious thought, sublime achievement, and artistic beauty. In making sueh a book, the author is deeply sensible of the diffi¬ culties which attend his efforts and the impossibility of pleasing every class of minds to whieh sueh work appeals. The architect will expect to find abundant entertainment in the details, principles, characteristics, and differences of these varying edi¬ fices, but were the volume devoted to these alone there would be but little to interest the general reader. The archaeologist will doubtless expect stores of antique learning to be revealed by these pages, and turn from them with disappointment; while the historian will note gaps in the historical sequence of events, and other specialists wili be but little interested in that which we humbly hope the general reader will most appreciate. Of each “Great Cathedral of the World” large and wonderful volumes could be written. Their histories are appar¬ ently inexhaustible, so intricately is their story woven into the life of the nations. Some, like that of Milan, have required fifteen generations to build, and a generation yet unborn will be called to complete them. Others, like Orvieto and Siena, present the rise, the glory, and the de¬ cadence of a sehool of art upon their facades —an artistic epoeh of a hundred years. Under the dome of St. Peter's are mosaie workers whose ancestors for ten generations have handed down their craft from father and son, each spending their life-time within the walls of the saered edifice. Stray into a great, dark church at “Ave Maria," where peasants tell their beads in the vast marble silenee, and you are where -the whole city of Florence floeked weeping at midnight to look their last upon the faee of their Miehael Angelo. Who ean con¬ dense sueh histories Into the brief space of a dozen pages? All we vii ean hope to accomplish is to present in a popular way the' salient points of each cathedral’s story, with such variety of information as shall make the impression useful and enduring. The illustrations are all from negatives made by the author or under his supervision, and represent the most striking features and architectural characteristics of each cathedral, while the composition plate combines as far as possible the decorative details, monuments, and objects of interest in the cathedral furnishings. There are few more difficult tasks than that of limiting and well balancing a work whieh must contain a variety of information and illustration, on a subject where both are inexhaustible. The task be¬ fore us is, to produce a popular work, robbed of all technical phrases, architectural terminologies or special pleadings. If in this we are suc¬ cessful, and at the same time succeed in clothing eaeh eathedral with the life and individuality whieh conceived it, erected it, and worshiped in it, the kindly reader who has followed us to the end will be better prepared to enjoy the riehes of these “poems in stone," when he shall read their lustrous syllables beneath their own overarching skies. FRED H. ALLEN. Boston, 1886. WESTMINSTER ABBEY. “ Through the aisles of Westminster to roam Where bubbles burst and folly's dancing foam Melts if we cross the threshold —Wordsworth. HE contradiction involved in admitting Westminster Abbey to a volume on the “Great Cathedrals of the world” can only be met by the question. How ean it be omitted? It has no peer in historic interest to every one who speaks the English language, and for six hundred years the many clustered shafts and pointed arches have covered the dust of England’s sovereigns, warriors, statesmen, poets, and divines. In undiminished graee, in lightness, strength, and grandeur they' still point upward, reminding the observer of aspirations whieh kindled the hearts and fired the energy of those who sleep beneath. Westminster Abbey is a fossilized - epitome of English history, a poem in stone, recounting the steps' by whieh the nation elimbed to greatness. To pieree the mists whieh enshroud the early history of West¬ minster, to unravel legends and traditions whieh still puzzle the antiquarian and the learned, is not our vocation. We are willing to encourage a belief in each and all the legends of the old Minster in the West, at Thorny or Thorn Island, in the Thames. It profits noth¬ ing to prove that the British King Lueius, in 185, did not found a ehureh to the honor of God and St. Peter, or that King Sebert of the East Saxons, in 616, did so found one. The “loco terribili,” or “terrible place, overgrown with thorns and environed by water,” may have been the site of King Lucius’ Church, changed into a Temple of Apollo, and finally overthrown by an earthquake, or waiting for the eoming of 2 Augustine and his brother monks from Canterbury. Mellitus, a noble Roman, was eonseerated first Bishop of London, and Sebert, whose tomb is still shown in the Abbey, built the ehureh upon the thorn set isle. We will not quarrel with the story of the fisherman who relates that, on the night before the dedication of the church to St. Peter, a mys¬ terious stranger was brought from the Lambeth side, who proved to be no other than the fisherman of Galilee, St. Peter himself. The ferryman saw the ehureh lighted with a dazzling illumination and heard the sound of angel choirs. The mysterious stranger, on his return, bade the ferryman tell Mellitus that' he would find all the signs of conse¬ cration already completed. Fanciful as the legend is, we would not attempt to prove it false, or hint a doubt of accuracy. It is interesting from the three-fold claim: Firstly, to an antiquity as great as that of St. Paul; secondly, to an independence of all authority other than St. Peter’s, the reputed first Bishop of Rome; and thirdly, to a tithe in the Thames-eaught-fish, a resource long enjoyed by the monks of West¬ minster. What may be said with absolute eertainty is that the present ehureh was opened for service in the year of our Lord 1269, and was the worthy successor of one completed in 1065. This earlier ehureh was erected by the “Woman-hearted Confessor.’’ When an exile in Normandy, Edward made a vow to go a pilgrim to Rome in honor of St. Peter, should he be restored to his kingdom, but when the time arrived the vow was inopportune, and Pope Leo absolved the monarch on condition that he ereet or restore a monastery to St. Peter, and so Edward “rebuilt with massive circular arehes, the West Minster of London in 1050, said to have been the first ehureh in England in the shape of a cross.” Edward became abstracted from worldly pleasures and performed many miracles, and after his death, his supernatural acts so multiplied that Pope Alexander was compelled to enroll the name of England’s king among the saints. But the question still remains, What is it that gives the Abbey its unequaled historic interest in the eyes of all the world? What called from Nelson the ery, “Westminster or victory”? Why are not historic Canterbury, noble York, or the solemn grandeur of St. Paul’s as invit¬ ing sepulchre? The answer is not far to seek. Edward the Confessor 3 was interred before the high altar in his new ehureh eight days after its dedication. From that time, Norman kings, monks, elergy, and the English people vied with eaeh other in honoring his name. William the Conqueror claimed the erown as the gift of the king, who had long lived in exile in Normandy. To the monastic brothers Edward was dear, not alone for his prineely gifts, but being in life and character like one of them. The Commons of England, groaning under the hand of foreign masters, recalled the peaceful “Saturnian” reign of the gentle Confessor as the golden age. To be crowned beside that grave lent additional sanctity to the rite of coronation; and thus, from the Conqueror to Queen Victoria, every reigning sovereign has received the erown beneath this roof, near the dust of the Confessor. “ Moreover, as time went on a swarm of traditions and legends grew up round the name of the king, who was eanonized by the Pope in 1163. To be buried near those saintly ashes was a privilege that kings might eovet. Accordingly, when Henry III., a sovereign in many points resembling him, had drained the resources of his kingdom to rebuild the church, palaee, and monastery at Westminster, he ehose his own burial-plaee on the north side of the stately shrine to whieh he had ‘translated’ the body of the Confessor. There, in due time, lay his son Edward I. and his queen; there king after king was buried; the children, relations, ministers, and standard-bearers of successive sover¬ eigns ; there the abbots of the monastery; there lay Chaueer, who died hard by; there, nearly two centuries later, Spenser; and it is easy to understand how increasingly the feeling spread that to be laid to sleep in ground sacred with the dust of kings, warriors, churchmen, states¬ men, and poets, was an honor of the highest order. “Up to the time of the Reformation the ‘Chureh of the Abbey' was also not only the scene of coronations, royal marriages, and funer¬ als, but till the reign of Henry VIII. was elosely identified in other ways with the history and feelings both of kings and people. The last- named king, driven by a destructive fire from Westminster Palaee, established himself in White Hall or York Place, whieh he took from Wolsey, and in St. James’s Palaee, whieh he raised on the site of an aneient ‘hospital for leprous maids.' He eonneeted the two by appro¬ priating the meadows that lay between them, now St. James s Park. But up to his reign kings and Commons had lived beneath its shadow. Great victories won by English armies were eelebrated by processions and Te Deums beneath its roof. Parliaments met for three centuries in its stately Chapter House, the cradle of the Parliamentary govern¬ ment of England and of her eolonies. The ehureh, too. though dedi eated to St. Peter, Was practically that of the Royal Saint, Edward, just as St. Thomas became almost the patron saint of Canterbury Cathe¬ dral. Innumerable pilgrims visited his shrine and the various relies exhibited there. ‘Indulgences' of definite amounts were accorded to visitors; and at the great festivals of the Church, when these relics were earned in procession, the building was thronged as on days of great State pageants. Its twofold character is well exhibited in a letter of Edward III., who speaks of it not only as ‘The Monastery Church of Westminster/ but also as the ‘Special Chapel of our Principal Palaee/ The national feeling is expressed in a letter of Edward IV. to the Pope (A.D. 1478), wherein he speaks of the monastery of Westminster, as plaeed before the eyes of the whole world of Englishmen,’ as an insti¬ tution any favor to whieh would be ‘welcome to all of English blood. The interest that is so widely felt in the Abbey is by no means the birth of the last few generations.” Sueh are the general considerations whieh give to the Abbey its unequaled historic interest, and sueh are the reasons whieh have actu¬ ated the writer in introducing the renowned minster among the “Great Cathedrals OF the WORLD." Considering the nature of the church, the antiquity of the edifice, and the character of its monuments, the question would naturally be asked, How could it be omitted? Up to the year 1540, in the reign of Henry VIII., a great society of monks, of the Benedietine order, oeeupied the group of buildings of whieh the now ruined eloisters, the Chapter House, and Jerusalem Chamber formed parts. The monastery disappeared, but not the aneient minster, for the loeal name survives the changes whieh its ecclesiastical character has undergone, and its legal title, “The Collegiate Chureh of St. Peter in West Minster,” is quite unknown. 5 Twiee in its long history has a bishop's throne adorned the ehoir stalls of the Abbey; onee during the reign of Edward VI., when by aet of Parliament the See of London was divided and Westminster de¬ clared a cathedral in the Dioeese of London, and onee on an earlier date it enjoyed the distinction of being the ecclesiastical centre of a dioeese bearing its own name. For a second reason, also, we deem this national Campo. Santa, no intruder among the great religious structures of the world. Were we to eheck the wheels of time and turn them backward two eenturies, we should be greeted on visiting the Abbey by the rollicking troopers of the commonwealth, who, having pawned the organ pipes for wine, are enjoying their earousal above the ashes of Edward the Confessor. The holy Chapels were defiled as barracks, and a loyal, serv¬ ice was considered the mutilation of an ornament, pendant or image, no matter how beautiful, if tainted with any fancied superstition. Turn baek another hundred years, and we see saered arts even more sacrilegiously treated. The blind fury of the Puritan may be for¬ gotten, as the ebullition of a diseased conscience, but when the spend¬ thrift Henry VIII. and his hungry courtiers dissolved the monasteries and appropriated their wealth, there eould not be the slightest excuse for the destruction or dissolution of the eeelesiastieal fabrie, which the ehureh was too weak to defend. To the rough gentleness of Oliver Cromwell we indeed owe the preservation of Raphael’s cartoons, al¬ though he is mueh blamed for rapine and tyranny. The theft of the silver Head from the effigy of Henry V., long charged to Cromwell, has been shifted to the last years of the reign of the merry monarch, who appropriated it to the replenishment of his depleted coffers. The vis¬ itor to the Abbey was in those days a huckstering broker, bartering for the metal chasings of the shrines and the lead of the roof. Should we turn yet further baek the dial plate of eenturies, we should note a strange contrast between the scenes enacted in the first three hundred years of the Abbey’s existence, and those we have just mentioned. Be¬ neath that fretted roof men assembled with reverential awe and pious faith. They gave their worldly goods to the ehureh, saerifieed their 6 lives for it, and were ever ready to bum at the stake those who doubted its perfeet infallibility. Faintly through the ages eame the footfall of her great proees- sions, and the perfume of her smoking eensers. Dimly do we see the gorgeous tapestries and graven images, eovering every superfieial ineh of wall, “Statues of martyrs, king, or sainted eremite,” resplendent with preeious stones, mosaies, and enamels. The bossed capitals, moldings, and every sculptured ornament “ picked out with gold, blue, and rich vermilion." The never-dying fires upon her altars, the black vests of Benedictine monks, the snow-white robes of ineense burners, enriched by contrast with the jeweled and gold embroidered vestments of offi¬ ciating priests, and the swelling voice of the ehoir made the grand arches to resound with the passionate litanies and silver psalms. “ Every stone was kissed By sound, or ghost of sound in many strife ; Heart-thrilling strains, that cast before the eye Of the devout a veil of ecstasy : They dreamt not of a perishable home Who thus could build ! ” In a sketeh of this character it is impossible to indicate even the strange, eventful story of Westminster Abbey. Fourseore of mas¬ sive volumes have not unveiled its untold wealth, nor have genera¬ tions of eareful students, nor years of study exhausted its rich mines of historic lore. But how ean you walk through this building, whieh is so filled with mighty memories, so deep and vast, yet so intensely real, and ex¬ amine it in detail? This is impossible. Glanee where you will, there are histories “writ in stone," at whieh hours might be spent. If you stand with your back to the west door, Little Poet's Corner,” as Dean Stanley called it, is on your right; on the left the “Whig Corner,” above, over the door leading to the Deanery, the “Abbot’s Pew." Walking up the center of the nave, you pass over the dust of Livingstone, guarded on one side by soldiers of many generations, on the other by the great meehanies and architects of the nation. You involuntarily pause over the stone which covers the dust of Sir Isaac Newton, and are pleased as the eye rests upon a wreath of autumn leaves, the gift of America, 7 whieh hangs upon the monument to Andre. Along the south aisle of the ehoir you note the monuments to Thynn, of Isaae Watts and the Brothers Wesley. And now the ''Poet's Corner,” through whieh the monks onee defiled past St. Blaise’s Chapel. Turn to the left and look up. Above you the “lantern” pierees the sky, filled with dim and dusty light. Westward lies part of the ehoir, onee filled with monks and noviees and singing boys, seven times a day. It was not until Spenser was buried near the tomb of Chaueer that any part of the Abbey was looked upon as appropriated to the poets. In time their monuments overflowed into the larger part of the tran¬ sept. In this famous nook are monuments to many who are not buried here. From St. Benediet’s Chapel we see the memory of “Glo¬ rious Old John” Dryden enshrined in marble, the bust of Longfellow, and the epitaph of Cowley whom Dean Sprat called the Pindar, Horaee, and Virgil of England; Chaueer, of the immortal “Canterbury Tales,” and Phillips of forgotten fame: Booth, who succeeded Bellerton, the progenitor of America’s famous actors; “O Rare Ben Jonson," buried standing in his two feet square of ground, while Jack Young (afterwards knighted) stood by while his grave was covering, and gave the fellow eighteen penee to eut his epitaph; Edmund Spenser, Poet Laureate to Queen Elizabeth, the great author of the “ Fairie Queen," vainly asking for bread, for want of whieh his grateful eountymen gave him a stone in Westminster; Butler, passing also from poverty to fame, and John Milton, who, in the seelusion of earthly darkness, dreamed of paradise. Gray is here, and Campbell, Southey, and Coleridge, in com¬ pany with the immortal Bard of Avon. But the enumeration alone of .mighty names would fill the pages of our sketch. No ground of equal size in all the earth contains so much of royal mold: kings, queens,, and princes, mothers of kings, and noble warriors, statesmen and poets fill the yielding earth and crumble back again to indistinguishable dust. Every visitor looks with reverent gaze upon the rude and aneient chair in whieh the coronations have taken place from Harold to Vic¬ toria; the aneient stone of Scone beneath it, brought from Scotland, 8 where It served as Seottish Monarehs’ Chair of State for centuries before. In the Chapter House the English House of Commons met from the time of Edward I. to 1547. This incomparable room was begun in 1250 and stands upon an old crypt, in the centre of which a massive pillar once .contained the treasures of the monks. Here in the famous Chapter House the members of the eonvent held their solemn meetings, and by the centre pillar the floggings of unruly monks took place. The Jerusalem Chamber is near, in which Henry IV. breathed his last, and to which the lawless Prince Hal came grief-struck and con¬ science-smitten to his dying father’s side. From here he went out a noble prince, a valiant warrior, and “every ineh a king.” From the crowning glory of England’s sacred temple we turn, painfully conscious of inability to speak of its beauty or its treasures. Its mail-elad warriors, its royal dead, its never-to-be-forgotten poets, writers, and statesmen sleep in their tombs of marble, while the chant of voices, the wail of the organ, and the prayers of countless wor¬ shipers eddy around their beds of still and never-ending repose. r, by the International.Art Publishing 1.Ports Comer. 2. Coronation Chair. 3 Tomb of Henry m.4NightingahMonument. S.LongfdlowBvst. n. The Screen. 7. Tomb of Mary Quern of Scots. 8. The Cloisters. CANTERBURY CATHEDRAL. ri®iFl|E eannot fix the precise date when the first Chureh of Christ was reared on the little plain in the valley of the Stour, but when the Roman missionaries, in the days of Gregory, came to win baek England to its early faith, Ethelbert gave to Augustine an aneient church, which legend declared had sheltered British Christians in the days of Lucius, that king of shadowy memory. That Lueius ever existed is now considered extremely doubtful, but that a knowledge of Christ and his free worship existed in En¬ gland as early as the second century, is far from improbable. That two small churches stood upon the plains of Canterbury on the arrival of the Saxons in the year 449, is undeniable, and that Augustine re¬ stored, perhaps enlarged, and in part rebuilt these ehurehes in the year 597, is matter of history. The Cathedral of Christ Chureh at Canterbury, now the Metropoli¬ tan Chureh of Great Britain, holds its title to an age more venerable and a history more complete than any other Christian ehureh of the world. No extravagant zeal of a comparatively late age, as at St. Peter's at Rome; no overpowering necessity, as at St. Paul’s in London, has broken its historical continuity or obliterated all traces of the work of former generations. The Centuries may not look down from its gray pinnacled towers as from the Egyptian pyramids, but they look up¬ ward from beneath. Above the ground there is no remnant of any structure earlier than the Norman eonquest, but sinee this epoeh, gen¬ eration after generation has left its mark upon the building, until it appears a history writ in stone, of every age up to and beyond the period of the Reformation. Let us sit down a moment by the little ehureh of St. Martin, on the hill, and review, not alone the scene which lies before us, but the pageant of the centuries as well. Immediately below are the towers of the great Abbey of St. Augus¬ tine, where Christian learning and civilization first struck root in the Anglo-Saxon heart, and where, after a lapse of many eenturies, a new institution has arisen to carry beyond the countries of Gregory and Au¬ gustine the blessings which they gave to England. A little further on, the eye rests upon the magnificent Cathedral, rising high above the hum¬ ble houses of the town, in splendor equal to the noblest temple or ehureh which its founder could have known in ancient Rome. The earliest cradle of English institutions was the little ehureh of Augus¬ tine, and the little palace of Ethelbert. Around them gathered Can¬ terbury, the first English Christian eity, upon the plains of Kent, the first English Christian kingdom. From this cradle has arisen by degrees the constitution of both ehureh and state in England, and by direet eonsequenee the Christianity of Germany, of North America, and we may trust in time of India, Australia, and Africa. But in looking for the far away beginnings of these forees, the mind must journey from the quiet hills of Kent to those seven his¬ toric hills upon whieh the “Eternal City" stood. Scarcely a hundred years have passed since the Roman Empire had been destroyed, the last Caesar put down, and the once conquering eagles had flown back¬ ward across the Alps to fold their wings upon the ruins whieh the Goths had left to remind Rome of its former grandeur. All nations were like a seething caldron, settling themselves after the invasion of the wild barbarians, who, overrunning the civilized world, had tram¬ pled out the arts of peaee, and the security of law. Fierce Saxon tribes had been to Britain what the Goths had been to Italy, and under them England had beeome a savage nation. In the great crash of political institutions, the convulsions of thought and civilization, it was natural that the religion of the old world should keep the firmest hold upon that country and city which had longest been its chief seat. That country was Italy; that city was Rome; that religion was brought . 1 11 by the Asher of Galilee to the throne of the Cgesars. The bishop and elergy were thus invested with a new and unusual importanee, and it is to one of these we direet attention. Conspicuous amongst the Seven Hills of Rome, stands the Caelian Mount marked by its crown of pines, and its monastery of St. Andrew. Down beside the rugged walls of the Coliseum, Gregory the Great— at that time a monk in the Abbey which he himself had founded—one day saw a slave gang driven to the place of sale in the market. Amongst these a group of three boys, distinguished by their fair com¬ plexion, white flesh, and flaxen hair. Gregory followed, and in the market place stood and looked at them. “ From what country come these children?" he asks. “From Britain,” is the reply, “and there all the inhabitants have this bright complexion.” “Are they pagans or Chris¬ tians?” he asks again. “They are pagans,” was the reply. “Alas! More is the pity, that faces so full of light and brightness should be in the hands of the Prince of Darkness,” exelaimed the good Gregory. Many questions he asked, and the replies of the slave dealer filled him with a desire to carry the gospel to this light-haired raee. Years rolled away, but Gregory never forgot the children of the market plaee, and when elected Pope, he sent forth from the convent on the Caelian Hill, its prior, the famed Augustine, accompanied by forty monks, as mission¬ aries to England. Upon the island of Thanet they first touched English soil, and there rested, to hear how the rude king of Kent was disposed to receive them. The name of this king was Ethelbert, a great-grand¬ son of Eric, son of Hengist. To consolidate his power he had married Bertha, daughter of the king of Paris. Like all Saxons, the king was a pagan, but the French princess who became his wife, was a Christian, and brought with her a ehaplain named Luidhard. One of the little churches we have before mentioned was repaired and set apart for her use. In the quaint old ehureh of St. Martin, by the side of which we are sitting, are still to be seen some of the Roman bricks and cement of Bertha’s Chapel, plaeed in order by the pious Britons .of the first three eenturies. Ethelbert, on hearing of Augustine’s arrival, would not suffer him to eome to Canterbury, but stipulated that upon the ■j island he would listen to his message. That meeting must have been remarkable. The Saxon king, “the Son of the Ash Tree, 1 ' with his wild soldiers gathered around him, was seated on the bare ground. Bearing a huge silver eross, and an upright board on whieh was delineated the figure of Christ, painted and gilded after the manner of the times, Augus¬ tine and his monks advanced, chanting a solemn litany for them¬ selves and those to whom they eame. Halting in the presence of the king, Augustine delivered his message. On receiving its interpretation Ethelbert gave this characteristic answer: “Your words are fair and your promises—but because they are new and doubtful, I cannot give my assent to them, or leave the customs whieh I have so long ob¬ served. But as you have come here as strangers.we are anxious to receive you hospitably, and to give you all that is needed for your support, nor do we hinder you from joining all whom you ean to the faith of your religion.” From the island of Thanet the missionaries crossed to the main¬ land, a'nd were received by the king under the overhanging eliff of the Castle of “Retep.” Thence by the way of St. Martin’s hill they entered the rude wooden city of Canterbury, preceded by the silver eross and painted Christ, while the choristers from Gregory’s sehool on the Caelian Hill, ehanted forth one of those grand litanies whieh have borne the name of the great Pope throughout the musie-loving world. Entering the little church of St. Martin’s they were welcomed by the queen, and celebrated their first mass with a splendor whieh produced an instant effect upon the rude barbarian mind. On the second of June, in the year 597, was celebrated the most important baptism England and—with two exceptions—the world had ever seen, that of Ethelbert, the converted, king of Kent. So rapidly did the work progress that Christmas day of the same year witnessed the baptism of ten thousand Saxons. Augustine was formally eonseerated the first Archbishop of Can¬ terbury, and Ethelbert gave his own royal palaee, and an old British ehureh which stood near it, to form the foundation -of a Cathedral, and '' r////s/'/v/sy " 35 death in Rome for refusing to pronounce an oration exculpating Cara- ealla from the crime of his brother’s murder. This was her age of glory, and being the largest and most power¬ ful eity in the province, York felt reasonably secure of continuing its capital. Nearly a century later and the empire was divided. Britain fell to Constantius Chlorus, who fixed his royal residence at York, and established the eivil and religious institutions of Rome upon a firmer and more elaborate basis. Two years after his. arrival, A.D. 306, this sovereign died, his ashes being carried to Rome, as were those of his great predecessor. Hardly had Chlorus died, when the army stationed at York pro¬ claimed Constantine the Great, emperor of the realm. Constantine immediately started for Gaul, and with his departure the glory of York, which had continued with increasing splendor during four hundred years of Roman occupation, passed away. The extent of the Roman eity is easily traeed at the present day. Its walls inelosed an area of about fifty acres, which now form a portion of the modern town. In mediseval days York beeame the seene of most important .strug¬ gles between the Britons, Saxons, and Danes The famous King Arthur, having defeated ninety thousand Saxons, and slain their com¬ manders, on the Baden hills,'took up his residence at York, and with his chivalrous knights and fair ladies, celebrated the first Christmas festival in England. In the year 617, Edwin the Great beeame sole monarch of the Anglo-Saxons, with his eapitol fixed at York, from which time untN the arrival of William the Conqueror, no memorable incident occurred to ehange the eventful fortunes of the eity. In the year 1069, the eity was razed to the ground, as punishment for a revolt against William of Normandy, and by the sword, famine, and disease attendant upon the seige, more than 100,000 persons perished. The once celebrated rival of the mistress of the world is bereft of her magnificence and splendor, and left dishonored and desolate. The diadem of the monarch no longer glitters in her palaces, and the pomp of royalty is forgotten in her streets, but the loss of the old is amply 9 36 compensated for in the new. Carnage and desolation may not enter her gates, the air is no more rent with the eries of vietims sacrificed to the goddess of victory. The rites, of Bellona are no lunger cele¬ brated in her temples, nor do her altars smoke with the blood ot offerings to Woden and Thor. The sword of cruelty is taken from the hand of idolatry by the message of the gospel of peace, and the reign of superstition is sueeeeded by that of truth. Upon the plain, where onee the bloody holocaust was offered, a mountain of stone springs upward, tipped with tower, and cross, and finial — a thousand stony fingers pointing heavenward, suggestive of the aspirations of those generations which worshiped about its feet. The humble dwellings of men appear to eroueh at its base, while its own vastness and beauty of proportion impress the observer with awe and sublimity. For miles around the blanched walls of this gigantie structure may easily be seen, while its towers rising grandly toward the heavens present to the inhabitants of the surrounding country a perpetual memento of the objeet of their existence. Just before twilight, as the rays of the setting sun fall gently from the stately pinnaeles of the Minster to the desolate and crumbling arches of St. Mary's Abbey, one seems to read with startling distinct¬ ness the words of the immortal bard of Avon: “The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, i Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve; And like an unsubstantial pageant, faded, Leave not a rock behind.” The mass of tradition, legend, and cloistered mythology which sur¬ rounds the introduction of Christianity to the North Britons must be passed with a single legend relating to the establishment of the pres¬ ent Episcopal see of York. It is related of Edwin, the rightful king of Deira, that when an infant, he was expelled from the kingdom and found refuge at "the eourt of Redwald. Whilst at the palaee of the monarch he one night learned that his protector was about to be put to death. In the court¬ yard of the palaee where he was sadly trying to decide whether to fly or remain in his present asylum, a venerable figure approached and 37 told him that one day he would regain the throne of his fathers. After receiving a promise from the royal exile that he would listen to the instructions then given him, the mysterious stranger laid his hand upon his head, saying: “When this sign shall be repeated, remember what has passed between us, and perform the word you have given." By a series of remarkable events Edwin was seated upon his throne, and married Edilburger, a Christian prineess. The queen was permit¬ ted the free exercise of her religion, and was accompanied by Paulinus, who was created archbishop of the north. An attempt was one night made on the king's life, whieh was frustrated by a royal Thane, who received in his own heart the poisoned sword. When sacrificing to his gods in excess of gratitude for his deliverance, Paulinus ventured to re¬ mind the king that it was to the God of the Christians that he owed his life. The king promised that, if successful in a war he was about to begin, he would embrace Christianity. Returning victorious, King Edwin was deeply agitated in mind concerning the momentous step he contemplated, when one day Paulinus entered the royal presence and laying his hand upon the king’s head asked him if he remembered the sign. Edwin hesitated no longer; he ealled his ehiefs; all were willing to renounce idolatry, while Coifi, the high priest, mounted and armed as a warrior, hastened to the seene of his former idolatry and hurled a javelin into the breast of his god. An oratory of wood was hastily erected at York, and there Edwin and his whole eourt were baptized on Easter Day, April 12, 627. Of this first ehureh nothing now remains, but the present Cathedral stands upon its site. Immediately following his baptism, Edwin set about the erection of a large and noble basilica, in the midst of which the oratory which he had first built, and in whieh he was baptized, should be included. But the king was killed before its completion, whieh was left for his sueeessor, Oswald, to accomplish. It remained, however, to the greatest eeelesi- astieal architect of Saxon times, Arehbishop Wilfrid, to make the structure worthy of the Christian capital of Northumbria. A new roof was then put upon the Minster, and glass was plaeed in the windows, so that the birds could no longer fly in and out and defile the sanc¬ tuary. The walls were plastered, the altar furnished, and means ap- 38 propriated for necessary repairs and maintenance of ministers. In 741 the basilica was burned, and rebuilt by Arehbishop Albert. During the wars of the Norman invasion the Cathedral and a large portion of the eity was laid in ashes. The architecture of the reconstructed edifiee was so mueh superior, that the loss of the Saxon church is not to be deplored, were it not for the destruction of the famous library of Arch¬ bishop Egbert, which was entirely consumed. In the ehoir erypt a portion of the ancient wall still remains. In the years 1070 to 1100, Arehbishop Thomas, the first Norman prelate, rebuilt the ehureh “ as well as he could " in something of its present form. It consisted of a nave and aisles, transepts without aisles, and a massive tower. Another ehange in the history of the fabrie oeeurs in 1154, and the thirty years which follow, during the archbishopric of the famous Roger, the apsidal choir was removed, and a nobler structure took its plaee, while many important changes were wrought in the external appearance of the building. Little of this structure now remains. In the administration of Arehbishop Walter de Grey the present south transept was added, whieh holds as its chief attraction the tomb of its builder. The con¬ struction of the north transept followed in 1228 to 1256, while John Romanus was sub-dean and treasurer of the Cathedral. The next ehange was the removal of the Norman nave, and its reconstruction in the architectural fashion of the times, followed by the erection of the west front, which was completed by Arehbishop Melton about 1345. The chapter-house had doubtless been erected, although no authentic statement concerning its time or builder is found. Then followed the extension of the Norman choir, the ereetion of the Lady chapel, and the presbytery, after whieh what remained of the early ehoir was re¬ moved, the central tower re-eased, and the present beautiful lantern tower substituted for that of John Romanus. In 1430, the bell tower of the west front was erected, and forty years' later the corresponding tower was completed. The whole structure as it now stands was re¬ consecrated on the third day of February, 1472, by Arehbishop Neville. Thus, through the mutations of eight hundred and forty-five years, through the smoke of battle, the clash of arms, and garments dyed in 39 blood, did the proudest Minster of all England rise into the morning sunlight of peaceful and contented years. The ravages of Reformation days, from which so many saered edi¬ fices suffered spoliation, were barely felt here. What has often been lamented as the fatal error of Rupert in engaging the parliamentary forees at Marston Moor, eight miles from York, probably saved the Cathedral and the city itself, from a wasting and destructive seige. Although the city was surrendered to Cromwell’s forees, the influence of Fairfax was so great that little or no injury was done to the churehes or their contents. In 1786, the old pavement, which was- rich in incised slabs, was taken up, and the stone re-worked to form a new pavement. This was the greatest sacrilege the Minster of York has suffered at the hands of man. Twice, however, during the present eentury the Cathedral has suffered from fire, the great east window being saved with difficulty. The incomparable faeade of York Minster consists of two uniform majestic towers, each 196 feet high, between whieh the front of the middle aisle of the nave is carried up as high as the walls. Above each of the towers rise eroeketed pinnacles, connected by a battle¬ ment. Almost the whole front is filled with niehes, whieh with few exceptions have always remained empty. The large window is an un¬ rivaled specimen of the leaf tracery that marks the style of the four¬ teenth eentury. The figure of Arehbishop de' Melton sits over the centre arch of the principal doorway, while on either side are effigies of Robert le Vavasour and Robert de Percy, one of whom gave the stone and the other wood for the ereetion of the Cathedral. The story of Adam and Eve and their expulsion from Paradise is told in the stone traeery of the arch. The south side, though less elaborately fin¬ ished, is ornamented by numerous decorations and is extremely im¬ posing. The east end bears lamentable marks of the “moldering hand of time." The numerous statues whieh once decorated the niches have crumbled away, and three only are now left to remind us of the mel¬ ancholy fate of their former companions. 40 To enjoy fully the impressions of the great Cathedral, the visitor should enter the western door. If he has never before seen The high embowered roof With antique pillars, massy proof, And storied, window, richly dight, Casting a dim religious light,” an emotion to which he must hitherto have been a stranger will, for the moment, overpower him. Other Cathedrals he may have visited, but every edifiee will seem to shrink into insignificance when com¬ pared with the august and lofty spaees of this interior. An involun¬ tary tremor thrills the frame, as the eye for the first time glances down the incomparable vista of five hundred and twenty-four feet, while the senses appear overwhelmed by the amplitude of the vast expanse. "The immortality that stirs within us” seems to recognize the structure as more worthy of its residence, than as the temple or shrine of mortals. Should, at this moment, the tender and solemn tones of the organ reverberate through areh, and aisle, and groined roof, these reflections would almost ehange into the belief that this mortal had put on immortality." “ Then let the pealing organ blow, To the full voiced choir below, In service high and anthems clear, As may with sweetness fill mine ear, Dissolve me into ecstasies, And bring all heaven before mine eyes.” The “great west window” deserves careful attention. It is of eight lights, fifty-four feet in height and thirty feet in breadth, and competes with the famous one in Carlisle Cathedral for the distinction of being at least the finest deeorated window in England, none of the glass dating later than 1350. Our plate presents the “five sisters,” the glory of the Cathedral, seventy-seven feet high by thirty-two feet wide. This great window has been termed “the finest in the world” al¬ though it can hardly bear comparison with that of the west front of the Cathedral. It is indeed magnificent, and, as the many colored rays of the morning sun drift through the elegant tabernacle work of the . ' . vffrt‘ 41 ehoir stalls, linger upon the pier arehes and play in ever varying har¬ monies upon the mosaics of the floor, one forgives the enthusiastic writer who exelaims, “ Nothing was ever seen like this." A vestibule, which continues the east aisle of the north transept, leads to the chapter-house, which claims to stand unrivaled amongst English chapter-houses. It is supposed to have been founded about 1280, but not completed until 1350. The vestibule is noteworthy as being of later date than the chapter-house, and as containing some re¬ markably fine specimens of stained glass, a wall arcade of great height is' formed below the windows by a pointed arch inclosing two trefoiled arehes. The ehapter-house is octagonal, like those of Wells, Salisbury, and Westminster, while the beauty of its form is much enhanced by the absence of any central pillar, although its diameter is sixty-three feet, and its height sixty-seven feet. Eaeh bay of the building, except that over the door, contains a lofty window of great beauty. Besides the east window, all contain glass of the time of the Edwards II. and III. The forty-four canopied stone stalls present details worthy the closest study, while the beauty of the entire structure is exceeded “by no other sculpture of this period, either in England or on the conti¬ nent.'’ The attendant will not fail to point out to the observer a Latin couplet inscribed in Saxon characters, near the entrance door: “3Ct .fioSa Riorum