reduction of duty on the materials from which glass is formed, thereby increasing the facilities of the maker, and diminishing the temptations to smuggling, or the use of illicit glass-furnaces. These, the reader may be surprised to hear, were often in active operation, in cellars and other secret places; for though the production of a first-rate glass requires the nicest care, little knowledge is necessary for making the common material. Here we must end our remarks on this subject, trusting the reader has derived that kind and degree of information from the perusal, which may add increased interest to surrounding objects, and enable him to estimate aright the labours of his fellow-men. A CHRONICLE OF ST. ALBANS. W. D. needed small persuasion to induce the godless northmen to barter the relics of the Saint for the broad pieces of the wealthy churchmen. The penitent Vulnoth flourished in the reign of Athelstan; in that of Edmund the Good, St. Alban's Abbey was ruled by Xedred, its fifth Abbot, of whom the chronicler has little to relate, save that "he was respectable for the elegance and deportment of his person!" Ulsinus, his successor, was a very different character,-pious as a private Christian; beloved and respected as a spiritual ruler; honoured and obeyed as a temporal one, he did good service both to church and crown, and may, moreover, almost be regarded as the founder of the town of St. Albans. Offa, when he had completed the monastery, placed this inscription over the martyr's shrine,-"Here lieth of whom this town took denomination, and from the interred the body of St. Alban, a citizen of old Verulam, ruins of which city this town did arise. He was the first martyr of England, and suffered his martyrdom the 17th day of June, in the year of man's redemption 293." Now from this we should naturally suppose that the town was contemporary with the foundation of the monastery, but the worthy king's "wish was father to the thought," for, with the exception of a few straggling Cottages, no buildings surrounded the Abbey until the reign of Edred, 948, when Ulsinus, its energetic Abbot, built houses and encouraged others to do so; upon which, in a short time, a "town did arise," with mushroom growth, under his able and vigilant direction. His dust has probably long since been cast to the winds of heaven, and at the hands of the Puritans his bones received all conceivable insult and indignity. But what matters? His works (or at least their foundations) still remain; and the sister churches of St. Peter's, St. Michael's, and St. Stephen's, the Lady Chapel, and the market-place, bear testimony to his regard for the weal, both spiritual and temporal, of those committed to his care; they prove, too, the injustice of the charge laid against ALL monks, in selves alone. That many did so is not to be deALL times, of having lived but to, and for, them THE works, under the personal inspection of Offa, progressed with astonishing rapidity, and, ere he was called to his rest, which happened about five years afterwards, he had the felicity of seeing all the buildings necessary to the monastery completed, and Willegod, with one hundred monks, in peaceful occupation of their new and stately home. The king closed his eyes on this mortal scene, in his royal palace of Offley, whence his remains were conveyed to Bedford, and there deposited in a small chapel on the banks of the Ouse. Chapel and tomb were in after years swept from off the face of the earth by the inundations of the river, but, while one lofty arch of the noble Abbey of St. Alban's still remains, Offa, of immortal memory," will need no other monument! The good Willegod did not long survive his friend and patron, for, stung to the quick by the ingratitude of the young king, who refused the monastery the usu u honour of the founder's bones reposing within its walis, he pined and languished, and, ere two months had passed away, he had rejoined him in the land of spirits. The first Abbot of St. Albans died of a broken heart! He lived, however, long enough to have "set his house in order," to have brought his goodly household to conform with regularity and decorum to the stern rule of St. Benedict, and to have seen peace and prosperity upon his Israel. The vows imposed upon Benedictine Monks were those of poverty, chastity, and unquestion-nied, but that all did so, is as untrue as every broad ing obedience to their spiritual ruler, and in the very early ages of the Church they appear to have been, with but few exceptions, religiously observed. But at St. Alban's Abbey-sad to tell-they were speedily broken, and that by the guardian of the flock. The Abbot, third in succession from Willegod, died in a drunken fit, after having (as Matthew Paris indignantly expresses it) "satiated himself with the fat of the public wealth, and excited not only the vengeance of God, but the hatred and curse of the whole convent." His successor, Vulnoth, appears to have been a "mighty hunter before the Lord," a character hardly less suited to the cowled Benedictine than that of the 66 gluttonous man and the wine-bibber:" so true is it that "all hoods make not monks." Being seized, how ever, with a palsy, he believed that the avenging hand of God was laid upon him in wrathful indignation; and, causing his dog-kennels to be demolished, his numerous hawks set free, and his hunter's dress to be consigned to the flames, he became henceforth a man of "admired sanctity." In his time, England was disquieted by the inroads of the Danes, who, hearing of the glories of St. Alban's cell," in 930 paid it a most unwelcome visit, and, meeting with but little resistance from Vulnoth, and his "soldiers of the cross," broke open the martyr's tomb and carried his bones away in triumph to their own far distant land. When, or by whom, the much prized relics were restored to their rightful possessors is not certainly known, but it is probable their restoration formed an article in one of the many treaties entered into by the degenerate descendants of the warlike Saxons with their fierce invaders. Doubtless it (1) Concluded from page 175. without exception found to be. Neither were they and sweeping assertion is, upon examination, almost all ignorant, as many would fain have us believe; and for the instance of a learned monk, we have but to turn to the annals of St. Alban's, and read there the name of the successor of Ulsinus. Aifric was, in very truth, a man of letters and of learning; and works are still extant, in Exeter cathedral, and elsewhere, penned Nor are their contents unworthy of by his hand. attention. From the death of Elfric, the 7th abbot, which took place, A.D. 950, for the space of half a century or more England enjoyed the blessing of peace, and the abbey, sharing in the general prosperity consequent thereon, flourished, and increased in riches. The two abbots, who successively bore rule during that time, being pious and peace-loving men, employed themselves in searching the ruins of Verulam for precious tion of materials of which they intended to build a relics of antiquity, and in superintending the preparamore beautiful church than the one then attached to their monastery. But heaven's will was not as their and Eaduser both slept with their fathers. In the reign will, and, ere the preparations were completed, Ealdred of Ethelred, our country was visited by one of the heaviest judgments of the Lord, and "famine was sore in the land." Happily for St. Alban's there was a refuge for the famishing more hospitable than the workhouse, and those at its portals were ready to distribute with more liberal hand, than are now the guardians of the poor! The gates of the monastery were thrown open, and Abbot Leofrie and his monks were ever ready to welcome the hundreds who flocked to receive their blessing and their alins. Fancy can scarce picture a hand, and, in the year 1066, war's shrill trumpet sounded far and wide through the favoured land of the Angles, called all good men and true to leave the kindly shelter of their "ain fire-side," and to fly to arms in defence of their altars and their homes. scene more heart-stirring than that which each day was enacted at the noble entrance to St. Alban's Abbey. The lordly abbot, in his priestly robes, his train of cowled and shaven brethren, the multitude before them, now pressing forward to receive their share of the "staff of life," so freely given, "without money and without Deeply tolled the alarum bell from the massive tower price," now bursting forth into cries of thankfulness, of St. Alban's Abbey, and troops of the hardy peasantry and now falling on their knees to receive the father's were seen hastening to those gates, at which the hoaryblessing, or to crave his prayers, with the dark back-headed grandsire among them could still remember ground of the noble western porch, form together a having been led a youngster by his mother's hand to picture at once deeply interesting and moving! Day receive the bread which was to save him from starafter day, and week after week, the gates of the monas- vation. The bell has ceased its solemn call-and tery were still thronged by countless numbers of the blessings, "deep not loud," rose from the multitude 'poor destitute," and still the faithful Leofric was at assembled without the monastery, as the porter threw his station each time the great bell sounded; but the open the old oak gates, and the venerable Abbot dole was not so plentiful, and on his brow were marks Frithric came forward with hands and eyes upraised to of care. Truly the good man "suffered with those he Heaven, thence to invoke a blessing on their heads, did see suffer;" and his heart bled, as he viewed the ere he proceeded to make known the objects of the famishing multitude, and remembered that his coffers meeting. Then he lifted up his voice so as to be heard were well-nigh empty. "Meagre were their looks, of all, and told how that he had heard that William the sharp misery had worn them to the bone;" and he had Norman had crossed the channel, and was even then not wherewith to satisfy their piteous cries for bread. preparing to give battle to their rightful Sovereign, in In this extremity he "bethought him what he would order to sieze the "pleasant land," won by their fathers' do," he sold all the precious stores amassed by his sword, and now to be defended by their own. He bade predecessors for the erection and embellishment of a them draw it, ere it was too late, entreated them, fornew and costly church, and gave the proceeds to the getting all past animosities, to join heart and hand in poor. When charged with sacrilegious waste of "many upraising the banners of their Thanes, and fighting goods laid up" for the Lord's service, he gave an beneath its colours for their King and their country, answer worthy the most enlightened Christian of our and their homes. Then he dismissed them with a own day. The "faithful in Christ," he said, "especially father's blessing, and an oft repeated promise that his if they were poor, constituted the church and temple "prayers for ever and for ever should be theirs." of God; and were, indeed, that real and true church which it was his duty to build up and preserve, and that it was the best instance of pure and undefiled religion, to visit the fatherless and the widows in their affliction." But bitter to himself were the fruits of his noble conduct, for all the brethren could not, like him, forget the monk in the Christian, nor the duties of the one in the more important ones of the other; and the dissensions in the monastery rose to a fearful height, almost amounting to absolute insurrection. However, "the night is long that finds no morrow;" and his troubles found their end. The famine was stayed, and the fruits of the earth in their season were restored for the use of man, whilst the noble-minded Leofrie, being promoted to the dignity of the Archiepiscopal See of Canterbury, found, that, though often "lang o' comin'," "duty never yet did want his meed." Hard by the monastery, in "olden time," stood the Palace of Kingsbury, and there the Saxon monarchs often held their courts. But the near proximity of Royalty, with all its train of overbearing courtiers and idle servitors, was found to be prejudicial to the morals and well-being of the monks, and in the year of our Lord, 1006, Alfric, the then Abbot, bought it of the crown, and, demolishing the buildings, made the grounds Church property. King Canute, however, unwilling that every trace of the habitation of his fathers should be swept away, commanded that one tower should be left standing; and standing it is to this our day. When wars were raging, and rumours of wars were rife in England, it served as a conspicuous height on which to raise a telegraph, and, now that peace reigns throughout its length and breadth, it is converted into a clock-house, and from its venerable appearance, and interesting associations, well merits regard as a time-honoured relic of the past! From the reign of Canute to that of Harold, no events of any historical interest took place in which St. Albans bore a part. Its riches and prosperity were daily increasing, and the abbots who in turn bore the pastoral staff, being peace-makers rather than destroyers, under their mild sway both "town and gown" pursued the even tenor of their way, undisturbed by the petty feuds which constantly embroiled their neighbours. But troublous times were at The good old abbot and his monks kept this promise to the utmost-day and night were their knees bent in supplication, and hour after hour through the vaulted roof of their church, resounded the deep-toned voices of the brethren uprising in solemn chant. But the time for prayer was over---that for action come! news were brought, (" and every true heart wept for't,") that on the bloody field of Hastings, with thousands of England's best and bravest sons, lay "Harold the Unhappy," whilst Duke William was in full march upon the capital. seem Frithric, in whom the wisdom of the serpent, the gentleness of the dove, and the boldness of the lion, to have been blended. rose superior to the cowardly fear of those around him which spoke of submission to the stranger; and, knowing that the Norman and his followers, if unchecked, would pass through St. Albans, he determined to intercept his progress, and be the first this side of Hastings to shew resistance to the Conqueror. Causing all the timber on the Church lands to be felled, he so effectually barricaded the road, as to oblige William, chafing at the delay, and still more at the insult, to make a circuit of some miles to Berkleystead, which was then the place of his destination, and afterwards became his favourite residence. Thither, under promise of safe conduct, the Abbot of St Albans went, and the proud Norman demanded, in haughty_tone, how he had dared to intercept his march. Frithric's reply was mildly yet firmly given. "I have done what I ought," said he, "and if all the spiritual persons throughout this land had used their endeavours to have hindered thee, as they might and should have done, it had not been in thy power to have come thus far." "Is the spirituality of England then of such power?" exclaimed William. Well, if I live to enjoy what I have got, I will rule their greatness well enough, and make their power less, and I resolve to begin with thee." To this taunting threat the churchman made no reply his was the courage which loves to show itself in action, not in word; and, leaving the haughty stranger to enjoy the pleasures of the chase, he retired to his monastery; there to form plans for securing freedom to his country, and its throne to the rightful heir. Young Edgar (or Engelonde's Direling, as the Saxons loved to call him) fearing to trust himself within reach of his ambitious foe, had fled to Hungary, and there he dwelt in exile, whilst his faithful subjects, Alfred of York, and Frithric of St. Alban's, raised his standard, the one in the north and the other in the south, and gathered around it hundreds of the true-hearted and the brave, lovers of their country and their king. Hearing of the success attending their patriotic efforts, the Atheling, England's last hope, returned to his native land. But his was a gentle, not a warlike nature; ambition bore no rule within his breast, and foreseeing that the crown of his forefathers, if secured to him, must ever prove one beset with thorns, and being 66 weary with disaster, tugged with fortune," he not long after voluntarily relinquished the "golden sorrow" into his rival's abler hands. Meanwhile, William, startled, if not actually alarmed at the formidable appearance made by the malcontents, invited them to a personal conference at Berkhampstead. Thither the abbot of St. Albans, with a goodly company of nobles and prelates, repaired, and in their presence the duke swore upon the relics of Britain's protomartyr, an oath administered by Frithric, that he "would keep and observe inviolable all the ancient laws of the realm, which his pious predecessors, and especially the holy Edward, had established." But, alas! the sweet singer of Israel knew only too well "what is in man," and how faithless is the son of man, when he said, "put not your trust in princes." Hardly had the relics been removed from the presence of the duke, and restored to their wonted shrine, than he forgot the oath sworn, with his hand laid solemnly upon them,-broke the laws of the confessor he had promised to fulfil, and treated his new subjects as though they were but the "beasts of the field." Seeing that neither faith nor mercy was to be expected from the lawless invader, Edgar Atheling took refuge with Scotland's king, whilst his firm friend and stout defender, the venerable Frithric, called his monks around him, in the chapter-house of St. Alban's Abbey, and telling them that all hope of redress was past, bidding each one see to his own safety, he bid them a tearful and affectionate farewell. Heart-rending was the parting between the abbot and his monks; but "all that a man hath will he give for his life," and, expecting each hour the foeman at their gates, they hastened to quit for ever their loved and noble home.. The shades of evening had closed around the Isle of Ely, when an aged man, bowed to the earth with the "vile blows and buffets of the world," claimed admission to the "camp of refuge." He was received with the tenderness and respect due to his sorrows and his years, by the many bishops there assembled; but he told them he needed no honours, but was come to lay his bones among them," and craved "a little earth for charity." The sun rose once and again, and found the old man on his knees, but ere it was yet "high upon the earth," the way-worn pilgrim was gathered to his fathers, and the passing bell told sadly of the weary spirit's flight. It tolled for the broken-hearted,-for Frithric,the last Saxon Abbot of St. Alban's. Poetry. In Original Poetry, the Name, real or assumed, of the Author, is printed in Small Capitals under the title; in Selections, it is printed in Italics at the end. THE ALBUM. (HENRY J. JOHNS.) WHEN wandering through some region fair,— Should chance disclose-retired and lone, Some mouldering relic of the past, And fond memorial, treasured there! FAR, FAR AWAY! RACHEL L. I CANNOT link my spirit to realities so rife so fine, A VISIT TO THE NEW HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT.1 add that there is a passage in the rear of the throne for the royal attendants; it not being etiquette to pass before the throne while her majesty is seated. In harmony of design and exquisiteness of finish, nothing can exceed this new throne: it is architecturally correct, as well as picturesque; and, although from description, it would appear to be a blaze of enrichment, so artistical is the work that there is no appearance of superfluity or excess of ornament, or frittered appliances in any portion of the design. It is historical, national, and in every respect appropriate as the seat of sovereign power. At present, only one window is filled with stained glass, the effigies of the sovereigns being drawn in the style of the period of the architecture: we believe it idea has been overruled. The other eleven windows are was proposed to substitute correct drawing, but this filled with stained glass, the effect will be brilliant and sparkling, and relieve the somewhat too golden hue of the ceiling and upper walls. The filling of the five remaining archways with frescoes will also aid the pictorial character. THE THRONE Occupies the centre of the southern end | of the House. It is elevated on steps covered with a rich carpet of a bright scarlet ground, powdered with roses and lions, alternately, of gold colour, and fringed with gold colouring. The canopy to the throne is divided into three compartments, the central one much loftier than the others, for Her Majesty; that on the right hand for the Prince of Wales; and that on the left for Prince Albert. The panelling and heraldic emblasonry of the back are indescribably beautiful; and so exquisitely is the brilliancy of the colours blended with the gilding, that the effect is that of perfect harmony; and, notwith-covered with a diapered calico: when they shall all be standing the extreme richness of the materials, there is nothing garish or gaudy, their glitter and glare being chastened by the most skilful combination, into an effect of surpassing delicacy and beauty. The central and side canopies are surmounted by Tudor crowns; and in the former are five niches filled with statuettes of St. George, and Knights of the Garter, the Bath, Thistle, and St. Patrick. Beneath each canopy are the arms of the royal occupant, superbly emblazoned, as well as within the arches of the canopy itself. On each side of the recess for Her Majesty's chair is a pedestal, surmounted by an angel bearing the royal arms. There are corresponding pedestals, with the lion and unicorn; and, stretching out on either side are dwarf wings traceried, and octagonal pedestals, on which are seated the royal supporters, the lion and unicorn holding standards, enamelled with the arms of England. The Queen's chair of state, or throne, in general outline, resembles the ancient coronation chair; the legs rest upon four lions couchant, and have pinnacled buttresses on each side; the front, sides, and back, have quatrefoil panels, with crowns, roses, shamrocks, and thistles, and the royal monogram; and beneath the arms are lions passant. The back of the chair is gabled, and within it is an exquisitely quatrefoiled ornament of eight points, bearing the royal monogram. On the exterior ridge of the gable are boldly carved roses; upon a stem rising from its apex is a richly decorated crown; and upon the flanking buttresses are the lion and unicorn seated, holding scrolls. A broad border surrounds the square part of the back of the chair, on which are, alternately, large and brilliant egg-shaped pieces of rock-crystal, and lions within quatrefoils, enamelled. This gives a character of jewelled magnificence to the regal chair. Within this border are the royal arms of England, superbly embroidered on velvet. The state chairs for the Prince of Wales and Prince Albert are alike in form and general details, the only variations being in the embroidery on the backs, and in the monograms. The backs are circular-headed, and the legs are curved, in the curule, or X shape, and the whole framework is richly floriated. The fittings are crimson velvet and gimp; the embroidery, the ostrich plume of the Prince of Wales, and the arms of Prince Albert, and their respective monograms. To the Queen's Throne is a footstool, carved and gilt, and covered with crimson velvet, gorgeously embroidered in gold, with leaves, roses, fleurs-de-lis, &c. We should (1) Concluded from p. 164. chamber; for, some minutes had elapsed ere we could We lingered for a considerable time in the superb fix attention upon any especial portion of the decoration sufficiently to appreciate its design and genius, so to speak. Here is no unmeaning embellishment; everything contributes to nationality, aim, and purpose. is adopted; it is part of a chain of illustration, or linked You do not ask why this or that symbol or characteristic series; and there are no common-place repetitions; every piece of decoration assists to tell the story-to illustrate in this great chamber of its Legislature the artistic history of the country. It was long ere we had exhausted the decorative perfection of the house, and then, quitting it by one of the side doors, we crossed the corridor and entered THE VICTORIA HALL. This regal apartment has been taken from the long Victoria Gallery, as shown in the original plan. It is an after-thought of the architect, and a happy one; for, if we mistake not, it has found even a larger number of admirers than the house itself, or the peers' lobby. It has a chastened and subdued magnificence, in short, a delightful repose, which the house and lobby may be said to lack. The walls are, to a considerable height, panelled with oak, having a deep frieze and elaborate erecting. On the north and south sides are three compartments, The east and west ends have each three windows above divided by columns, to be hereafter filled with frescoes. the panelling, filled with stained glass, figured with the rose, thistle, and shamrock, royal crowns, diaper work, &c.; and the light streaming through them has an impressive effect. The lower oak panelling is of the napkin pattern; above are spaces to be filled with carvings representing important events in the lives of the Queens of England. There are larger panels over each of the two fire places, and in the western one an experimental basrelief has been placed with admirable effect. Above these compartments is a range of tall panels, to be filled with portraits of the English sovereigns, painted upon a gold ground. The frieze above these panels is enriched with oak leaves and acorns, and shields charged with the arms of the sovereigns of England, and labels bearing their names. The erecting above the frieze consists of Tudor flowers and quatrefoils with roses on pierced tracery. The small doorways leading into the corridors and the House of Lords are slightly recessed. On the north and south sides are larger do rways of lofty pitch, and very much decorated in the deep moulding. The southern door will lead to the Victoria Gallery: the opposite archway being a blank one, a statue of her majesty will be placed on a pedestal in front of it. |