IT

can rarely happen that a subject of such extensive and varied interest as Westminster Abbey is in all its aspects-historical, constitutional, ecclesiastical, and biographical, should be handled by a writer so peculiarly fitted to do it justice, not only by his position but by his powers of description and turn of thought, as the present learned and accomplished chief of its Chapter. For all who are concerned to know the manner of the foundation of the great church, which even more than the sister edifice in London proper, represents the religious centre of the metropolis; for all who wish to learn how its life has been, from the beginning and through all the centuries of its existence, interwoven with the political life of England; for all who love to dwell on the memories of the distinguished men whose monuments crowd the aisles and chapels of the ancient pile; for all who would like to be informed of the personal history of those who have been officially connected with it-this book of Dr. Stanley's will possess a value of no common order.

Nothing could be more fresh and picturesque than the introduction to the volume, in which the site of the future edifice is, as it were, plotted and laid out for its reception. To do this we are carried a long way hack through the centuries, to the days when the important stream, on whose banks the Abbey, in common with all London, stands, was a river winding at its own sweet will, more so than when Wordsworth gazed on it from the bridge, and ages before it was drilled to march between embankments of stones, or vexed by the paddles of countless steamboats, and only recently and

still imperfectly to be delivered from performing the base offices of a common sewer. Forests full of the noblest game stretched from the river shore to the heights of Hampstead and Highgate; Tower Hill, Corn Hill, and Ludgate Hill marked by their names the slight eminences chosen for the earliest occupation; while the lesser tributaries to the great river live in the names of Longborne-the long burn; Holbornthe old burn; Tyburn; Wall Brook; and others.

And so the future metropolis of England grew along the banks of the Thames; the kings had their occasional palace at Westminster, and some chronicles have even placed there the scene of Canute's voluntary wetting by the rising tide in rebuke of his courtiers. Surrounded by the water of descending streams stood Thorn Ey, or the Isle of Thorns, so wild and dreadful in its desolation that it was known as locus terribilis, yet not without its attractions for habitation in its seclusion, its fine soil, and the fish to be easily obtained for food from the neighbouring river. It was a place after the heart of monks. Ely, Croyland, Glastonbury in England, Notre Dame at Paris, rose in similar places. Dunstan is traditionally said to have established twelve monks of the Benedictine order in the island, which from that time took the name of the Western Monastery,' 'Minster of the West.' But Edward the Confessor is the true founder of Westminster Abbey. In Dean Stanley's account of him we have displayed all that power of bringing into life and reality the characters of by-gone times, which has been exercised by him so often

or

and with such never-failing charm. In his description we seem to see the very man. His complexion almost that of an Albino: the milky white and waving hair and beard, the eyes always fixed on the ground, the thin white hands and long transparent fingers, the strange mixture of grave and playful in his manners, childish in his kindliness, not reliable, spending his time equally between devotional exercises and hunting. He was the last of the Saxons, and also the first of the Normans, and in the foundation by him of Westminster Abbey, may be noted the earliest of the numerous political coincidences and relations which seem to connect the building indissolubly with the history of the edifice of the English constitution. When in Normandy and in exile, Edward had vowed a pilgrimage to St. Peter's Shrine at Rome if he returned in safety. Immediately came the news of the departure of the Danes, and of his own election as king. With his new duties and position, the fulfilment of the vow became impossible. The king desired it, but state policy forbade it. He was released from the vow by the Pope, on condition of founding or restoring some monastery dedicated to St. Peter, and thus vicariously supplying the abandoned journey to Rome. The existing establishment near the king's residence at Westminster fulfilled the necessary condition, and became the chosen spot for the future honour of the Saint. Nor was the dedication unaccompanied by legendary miracles. St. Peter appeared to a hermit of Worcester and expressed his satisfaction at the method proposed for redeeming the king's vow. The keeper of the keys of heaven was also manifested to a fisherman engaged in his calling upon the Thames, and angels were seen, with incense and candles, dedicating with the usual solemnities the newly risen fabric. Edward

lived more than any previous king in the palace close to the church of his vow, and so the Abbey and the royal residence became linked together, and thus was fixed what is rightly and felicitously described as the local centre of the English monarchy and nation-of the palace and legislature, no less than of the Abbey-a centre from which both Church and State have spread, in which each has received much from the other, and where the former must always find its true and only real independence, and its national support.

The 'painted chamber' or 'chamber of St. Edward' was the oldest part of the palace of Westminster, and this evokes a crowd of historical and political recollections. It was in it that conferences took place between the Houses of Lords and Commons, and it was in it that the House of Lords sat, while the House of Commons occupied their former chamber during the building of the present Palace of Westminster after the great fire of 1834.

Edward's Abbey was the first cruciform church in England, and occupying as it did nearly the whole area of the present building, must have been a marvel of the age. There was a tower in the centre and two at the west end. A rude representation of it is given in the Bayeux tapestry. In it and before the high altar was laid the body of its founder, but it was removed to its present position in the shrine of St. Edward by Henry III.

In pursuing the connection of the Abbey with the English constitution, and the relation of the liberties of the Church to its bond with the State, a characteristic story is introduced. The constant illustration of this union is, indeed, the key-note of the book, and adds to it much of its value. Wulfstan, bishop of Worcester, was the only Saxon prelate left after the Norman conquest.

At

The barons of the Cinque Ports first appeared to carry the canopy over the king at the coronation of John, in acknowledgment of assistance rendered by the then most important maritime towns of England to the king in his voyages to and from Normandy.

Henry III. was first irregularly crowned at Gloucester, in 1216, but was again crowned in due form at Westminster by Stephen Langton in 1220. A delicious anecdote is here introduced. The king asked the great theologian of the age, Grostete, Bishop of Lincoln, the difficult question, 'What was the precise grace wrought in a king by the unction ?' and was an swered, with truly episcopal discretion, 'The same as in confirmation.' Edward I. and Eleanor were the first king and queen jointly crowned, at a long interval after his accession, owing to his absence in the Holy Land, and there was a magnificent scramble among the crowd for five hundred horses let loose in honour of the occasion. At this coronation appeared for the first time the famous Stone of Scone, whose many peregrinations were brought to an end by Edward's deposit of it in the Abbey, who encased it in the wooden chair which still holds it, the very chair in which Richard II. sits in his portrait now in the Jerusalem Chamber. Since then it has rested at Westminster as one of the most interesting material documents of history to be found in any country. Its early history partakes of the marvellous. It was the pillow of stone on which Jacob slept at Bethel. Cecrops, king of Athens, who married a daughter of Pharaoh, alarmed at the rising power of Moses, carried it with him to Spain, from which it went to Ireland, and on it sat the kings of that country when crowned on the Hill of Tara. Fergus bore it off to Dunstaffnage, and its final Scottish habitat was

at Scone, where the kings of Scotland were placed upon it at their coronations. An appendix contains a most full and curious account of the progress of the legend of the stone by the late learned and much lamented Joseph Robertson; while Professor Ramsay brings modern geological science to bear upon the question of its identification. He reports that the stone may have come from the formations in the neighbourhood, either of Scone or Dunstaffnage; that it is not likely to have been derived from the rocks of the Hill of Tara, or of Iona; and he pays so much respect to the earliest legends of its origin as to say that, being a sandstone, it could not have come from Bethel, where the strata are of limestone, or from Egypt, where no similar rock is known to exist. The stone has all the appearance of having been squared for building purposes, and may now be considered as typically fulfilling its original destination, as a sort of symbolical foundation stone of the edifice of the British monarchy.

The coronation of Richard II. was magnificent, and first saw the cavalcade from the Tower, which continued in use until the time of Charles II. Then, too, began the

Knights of the Bath' as a special, and not a permanent institution, of knights created for the occasion, who after due ablutions rode with the king along the streets from the city to Westminster. Then, also, first caracoled the Champion, who appears to have been not so much triumphant as (in modern slang) sat upon, by being told to wait for his perquisites until the king had begun to eat his dinner.

Henry VIII. was crowned with Catherine of Arragon, and again, as we may learn from our Shakspeares, with Anne Boleyn, but no other of his queens was afterwards crowned.

Elizabeth's coronation was abnormal, as were the times in which she

succeeded to the throne. The coronation mass was celebrated, and the abbot of Westminster officiated for the last time. But the Litany was read in English, the Gospel and Epistle both in English and in the ancient language of ecclesiastical services. The whole bench of bishops but one were absent. Canterbury was vacant; York would not come; London was in prison: but Oglethorpe, bishop of Carlisle, and dean of the Chapel Royal, borrowed his robes, acted for him, and as was said, afterwards died of remorse a warning to solitary dissidents from prevailing episcopal opinion. No man can expect to maintain himself in the face of an overwhelming opposition from his own order. He loses his independence and freedom of speech and action by entering it, and must be content to abide that result, or to hazard the uncertain issues of violating what may be almost described as a natural law.

We admire Anne of Denmark's scruples at the coronation of James I. She refused to take the sacrament; 'She had changed her Lutheran religion once before for the Presbyterian forms of Scotland, and that was enough.' But more important matters are to be noted on this occasion, and are rightly indicated by Dean Stanley as showing the grasping tendencies of the Stuarts. The words in the ritual whom we consecrate' were substituted for 'whom we elect,' and for the laws which the Commons have chosen' were used the words 'the laws which the commonalty of your kingdom have chosen.'

The coronation of Charles I. was not without its presages, and, as might be expected, was distinguished by the passions and prejudices of the stormy time. There was a commission in which Laud was most active to prepare a service according to the rules of the Church of England. 'With a pas

sion,' says Dean Stanley, 'for the Royal prerogative, curiously contrasted with the antipathy to it manifested by his spiritual descendants, he introduced the prayer (omitted since the time of Henry VI.) that the king might have Peter's keys and Paul's doctrine.' The king wore a white robe instead of the usual purple velvet one. The dove of gold among the regalia was broken, and had to be replaced. During the solemnity there was an earthquake.

Oliver Cromwell was installed as Lord Protector in Westminster Hall; but the coronation-stone was brought from the Abbey on that occasion only, and on it sat the gloomy brewer,' when he took his place among English sovereigns. To him was presented for the first time a Bible.

The Restoration brought with it the splendid coronation of Charles II. The procession from the Tower was renewed; and there was a bran new set of regalia to replace those which had been sold in the late troubles. But all the care taken to examine records and precedents did not suffice to prevent some unseemly disputes, and among others, the king's footmen and the barons of the Cinque Ports had a desperate struggle for the canopy.

William and Mary were crowned together, and both (as was fitting on the occasion) duly invested with the symbols of sovereignty. The princess Anne, standing near the queen, said: 'Madam, I pity your fatigue.' The queen turned sharply with the words, 'A crown, sister, is not so heavy as it seems.' For the first time the Commons of England sat assembled in the Abbey during the solemnity.

At George I.'s coronation, the Order of the Knights of the Bath was founded as a permanent body. The honours of the Garter were not enough to satisfy all claimants, and Walpole desired to let the royal