ing for it; and many comparisons, disadvantageous to their own country, are made with the practice on the Continent. This is especially the case with regard to exhibitions of pictures and works of art; yet what is the fact? To say nothing of the numerous noble collections which may be viewed with the very slight trouble of calling for a ticket before the visit, there is the National Gallery, at No. 100, Pallmall, always open, with a matchless collection of pictorial gems, amongst which the productions of our own countrymen, Hogarth and Wilkie, displaying, in addition to exquisite execution, a profuse store of that quality so unattainable to a foreigner, humour, are proudly pre-eminent over the masterpieces of the artists of Italy and Holland. In addition to this the Bourgeois Gallery at Dulwich is as easily accessible; and the most curious specimens of ancient art, and the most exquisite pieces of sculpture ever executed, are freely shown to any one who may choose to see them at that unequalled repository the British Mu seum. It may seem hypercritical, but I cannot help thinking that the effect of Wordsworth's affecting little piece, "Poor Susan," is injured, in the minds of Cockneys at least, by the making of "bright volumes of vapour down Lothbury glide," since it is impossible, from "the corner of Woodstreet" (the scene of the ballad) to catch a glimpse of that place, especially if "a river" is to be seen "flowing through the vale of Cheapside" at the same time. Does not Lothbury too, sound in unaccustomed ears as something pleasant and countryfied? -I know of nothing so exquisitely pathetic as the short piece in question in the whole range of British poetry, except a song in the "Life of Mausie Wauch," entitled "There's nae hame like our ain hame." I would rather be the author of that one little poem, than of all the fashionable novels that have followed one another into oblivion for the last fifty years. The Old Queen's Head at Islington, (engraved in your Vol. for 1794, p.513,) -by far the most complete and interesting specimen of an ancient hostelry lately remaining in the suburbs, which was pulled down, to the regret of every lover of antiquity and of the pictu It is pleasant, just before the beginning of hay-harvest in the environs, to observe the monotony of some "long dull strect" of dingy houses, broken by the simple music of the pipe and tabor, and the ringing of bells on the legs of the morris-dancers. It tells of the country and its delights to the dull ear of the Londoner, while, moreover, there seems a patch of old-time merriment in the active but not mincing motions of the ruddy and sun-burnt countrymen who thus endeavour to gain a few pence by the exhibition of their own peculiar pastimes to those "pent up in populous city." They generally perform three (perhaps more) different dances, one with sticks, the rattling of which, struck against one another, keeps time to the music; another with handkerchiefs, which are gracefully waved in various directions; and a third, in which the hands are clapped in unison with the pipe and tabor. All are pleasing, when executed with precision. I have often wondered that Mr. Hone never devoted a plate and one of his own heart-warming descriptions to this custom of morris-dancing in spring, in his delightful volumes of the Every Day Book and Table Book, works which, from their amiableness of feeling, interest of contents, and richness of illustration, deserve a place in the heart and on the shelves of every lover of literature. It is customary with the present ephemeral race of “light” Magazines, to despise what they call their "heavy" predecessors, especially on the ground that the latter, instead of being exclusively devoted to the entertainment of the passing moment, also contained articles of "dry" information. Yet it is now found that periodicals all froth will not do, and numberless works of a more solid character, "Family Libraries," "Cabinet Cyclopædias," "Libraries of Voyages and Travels," &c. &c. &c. are monthly sent forth to sup ply the deficiency. Their contents being precisely the same as those of the articles sneered at in the old magazines, and carefully excluded by their conceited successors! Truly "Truth will prevail!" Lord Byron, it appears, was so puzled at the verb "read" being spelt precisely the same both in its present and past tenses, although pronounced dif. ferently, that, in his journals, &c. he invariably spells the latter "redde." This is very ridiculous, and there is no precedent for the innovation. As an alteration is certainly required, I think it would be much better to substitute "reed" in the present tense, which would answer the purpose quite as well. J. W. Mr. URBAN, Yorkshire, May 3. lar bells lately inserted in your Magazine, I venture to enlarge a little upon the subject, in order to make the communication more perfect. My object, it may be remembered, is to show the uses to which these bells were appropriated in ancient times, and the sta tions they occupied. Your Magazine abounding in plates of our old churches, (especially since about 1787) discover to us some very curious structures, the peculiarities of which, as I before hinted, deserve more comment than has been bestowed upon them. For the present I shall confine myself to the bells and their receptacles. in In your volume for 1800, p. 25, for 1803, p. 305, for 1804, p. 9, for 1806, p. 793, for 1820, p. 393, and for 1820, P.577, we have five instances of the Greater "Saint's Bell," once suspended in its little open gable immediately over the Roodloft, but which every plate appears to have been removed. Again, in other instances, as at Skelton church, co. of York, and Bishopton, co. of Warwick, engraved in your Magazine for 1810, p. 313, we perceive it once hung with another in separate recesses over the roodloft; and here it is worth remarking that the Saint's Bell is gone, while at Bishop ton one of the two remains. Another class of churches (as regards architecture), discovers to us in similar GENT. MAG. July, 1830. 25 angular capped, open gables at the west end, the same two bells, the smaller of which, on the authority of your learned correspondent in vol. LXXVI. p. 525, and note, was evidently the Saint's Bell; of this description are the churches in your vols. for 1797, p. 377, 1789, p. 772, 1804, p. 113, 1805, p. 793, and 1820, p. 113; to which I may add the church of Crossthwaite, in Cumberland, where one bell remains, but the other has disappeared. But besides these there are churches having towers, in which the "Saint's Bell" has formerly hung. Of this we have a fine instance in Tong Church, Shropshire, mentioned in your Magazine for 1800, part ii. p. 934, and more especially in your vol. for 1763, p. 162. A church having six bells, besides a very large and a small one in another chamber; certainly the Saint's Bell, and possibly the pass ing bell. Another instance occurs at your vol. for 1819, p. 297. These references make good the quotation in Nares's Glossary: "Whose shrill Saint's Bell hangs in his louverie, While the rest are damned to the plum- Indeed, I am very credibly informed that in Catholic countries, upon the Continent, the Saint's Bell always hangs in a solitary or separate recess.* Of these bells in the interior of a church, see a very singular account in vol. xcv. p. 525. Bells, it is well known, were a great object of superstition with our ancestors. Each of them was represented to have its peculiar name and virtues. Your Magazine for 1818, p. 307, and Hone's Every Day Book, vol. ii. p. 136, have much general and entertaining information respecting them, but my thoughts are now directed to points which have been less frequently noticed. It has been remarked that we seldom or never find the Saint's Bell in its proper recess, and I have further to observe, we seldom find more than one' bell of higher antiquity than Charles," or James the First's reign, (in any country church, at least,) and that is generally the smallest bell in the new peal. The singularity of this discovery See Gent. Mag. vol. xçıv. p. 530. is well accounted for by Dr. Whitaker, in his History of Richmondshire, p. 296, vol. ii., who observes, "One of the injunctions given by the Council of Edward VI. to the Commissioners sent about the kingdom, for the purpose of reformation, was this- That all ringing with holy bells (and before the Reformation, all church bells, save one, were baptised or consecrated) to drive away devils, and all ringing or knowling of bells, save one, should be utterly forborne. This prompted the avarice of churchwardens, or parishes at large, to dispose of all their bells, save one, (which, for the same reason, was sure to be the least) as useless and superstitious.' But the fondness for the cheerful sound of a peal of bells gradually returning upon the people, the ancient complement was restored." At this period, or under Elizabeth, therefore, I date the destruction of all the Saint's Bells in the kingdom of the larger kind—that is, such as were not hand bells. I have hinted at one bell often found in our ecclesiastical structures, and which was not consecrated. This bell, I have reason to think, never hung among the peal in the tower, but in a lone recess like the Saint's Bell, and had no such inscription around it as others had. It was the bell used upon all secular occasions; was the alarmbell in cases of fire, or approach, peradventure, of an invading enemy, From Stow's Annals, p. 286, and other works, it seems there was such a bell in London, before Henry III.'s reign, and I am well assured that such a bell was very common throughout the kingdom. The large bell in Tong Church, heretofore mentioned, was, perhaps, more likely to have been this bell than the passing bell. The latter had commonly "ora pro nobis," inscribed upon it. Were this without inscription, I should certainly pronounce it the secular bell, used upon various occasions of festivity, or rather parish business. Yours, &c. N. S. advice and admonition on various subjects of " architectural innovation," I hope you will give publicity to the following appeal to the subscribers for rebuilding the Choir of that Church. Its lamentable conflagration excited a strong sympathy, and very painful emotions in every admirer of that sacred, splendid, and truly national edifice. It was one of the most memorable events in the modern history of our Cathedrals; for, although these noble piles were frequently destroyed, or greatly injured by fire; by the wanton battery and varied spoliation of the Pagan Danes, and by other ruthless warriors, in former times, they have suffered little, but from neglect and misdirected improvements, since that horrid epoch of civil warfare during the Cromwellian era. Some of our modern innovators, the officious and tasteless improvers on genuine Christian architecture, have certainly inflicted severe injury on 100 many of our sacred piles: but it is generally believed that better feelings and better taste now prevail-that even those who neither know much of, or care much about the real beauty and true spirit of ecclesiastical architecture, pay some deference to public opinion, and are more influenced by dread of censure, than solicitous to deserve praise. I am induced to make these remarks, in consequence of hearing that, among the projected alterations in York Cathedral, it is proposed to take down and remove the organ screen. The bare mention of such a deedsuch a misdeed-is almost enough to call up the ghost of the late John Carter. Were he living, he would buckle on his armour and poise his lance in defence of that most beautiful, most interesting, most sumptuous piece of architectural design and sculptural adorn ments. He, like a Knight Templar of old, would desert his home, his domestic health, and all its comforts to guard the sacred temple of his adoration and devotion. He would watch it by day, as well as night, and attack any Saracen, Turk, or Goth, that dared to violate its holy shrine. Alas! "the days of chivalry" are fled—fanaticism prevails, and one of its high priests has fired the Cathedral now alluded to. He is pronounced mad by a jury, and sentenced to linger and rant in a vulgar crypt. Other fanatics, however, still roam at large, to the annoyance of good sense and good taste. Some of these, for nothing less than fanaticism, 1830.] On removing the Screen in York Cathedral. or folly, can dictate it-propose to take down, and thus destroy, the screen referred to. If this was a commonplace piece of masonry, or carpentry,if it was even a handsome piece of workmanship of Grecian or Roman architecture, as formerly at Winchester,-if there were palpable defects, either in its construction or application, we could easily part with it, in the hopes of having a new and more appropriate design: but in the present instance we have an architectural façade of unrivalled beauty-rich to excess, replete with interest, charged with historical sculpture of the highest class, as relates to the annals of the arts and the monarchy of England. Surely, therefore, the prudent, the good, the wise, will pause ere they commence such a work of useless, wanton sacrilege. I would further entreat them not only to pause, but enquire what end, what good will be effected by the removal? If the advantage be not great and palpable, why run the risk of injuring or of destroying this splendid screen? Why incur a great expense-speculate where the dangers are imminent, where no public or prirate advantage is likely to ensue, but where injury and consequent disgrace are likely to arise. It seems the infatuation of wantonness. The late Mr. Archdeacon Eyre, who not only admired the Cathedral, but was well qualified to appreciate all its merits and manifold beauties, addressed a letter to me, a short time before his decease, stating, that he had earnestly advocated the preservation of the screen in its present and rational state; that he believed, and hoped, his brethren of the Chapter would agree with him, and preserve its inviolability. The opinion and wishes of such a man deserve the most respectful attention; for he was not only well informed on most subjects of art and antiquity, but possessed a genuine, unaffected love for all that was good and excellent. He justly and properly reprobated all innovation and affected improvements in the ancient part of the fabric: he also, in unison with the late Dean, Dr. Markham, strenu ously urged the necessity of timely and substantial repair and renovation. These advisers the true advocates and friends of antiquity, would never have given a vote in the Chapter for the taking down this screen. In expressing myself thus strongly on the sub 27 ject, I am influenced by a sincere wish to preserve this interesting piece of architecture, not only from destruction, but from every injury. I would appeal to the good sense and integrity of the architect, Mr. Smirke, to forego all consideration of commission on such a job," advocate its protection, and even refuse to lend his aid, or give his advice, if it be resolved to remove it. I think it wholly unnecessary to enter into any thing like argument, or refer to the many examples of organ and other screens, in aid of my remonstrance and appeal. The mere frivolousness and inutility of removal, and the many risks attending it, are quite sufficient with every admirer of this exquisite morceau In my History of York Cathedral, published in 1819, I was precluded from giving a view, with full illustrations, from the difficulty of obtaining accurate drawings, and also from the expense attending the engraving of the whole. A plate of the central doorway, engraved by H. Le Keux, from an elaborate drawing by Mr. Blore, cost above fifty guineas, and to this I would direct the eye and fancy of him, who, without full deliberation, is silly enough to advise the removal. In conclusion, (for the present) I will appeal to every gentleman, who has advanced money towards the rebuilding and correct restoration of York Cathedral, not only to refuse his sanction, but to raise his voice against the work now projected, to enter his protest against it, and to demand a faithful and full statement of the works that have been done, at his and the public expense. J. BRITTON. Yours, &c. P. S. Since writing the above, I have seen a pamphlet, entitled, 66 A letter addressed to the subscribers to the restoration of the Choir of York Minster, on the subject of the removal of the Organ Screen," by a Subscriber. This very well-written pamphlet is a temperate but zealous appeal to the subscribers to resist the threatened work of destruction or removal. It also contains a full review of all the proceedings that have been adopted since the lamentable fire, and is calculated to produce a powerful and proper effect on every impartial reader. See Mr. Smirke's remarks on this Screen, in his Report on the Repairs of York Cathedral, in part. i. of this volume, p. 632. CLASSICAL LITERATURE. The call we made a few months since on our learned Correspondents, requesting them to oblige us with Classical Communications, has been favourably received; and several valuable articles have already appeared; more particularly those by our old and highly respected Correspondent R. S. Y. It gives us pleasure to insert, in our present Number, under the head of CLASSICAL LITERATURE, a volunteer Review, by a very learned friend, of a work of an eminently Classical character. And we take this opportunity of remarking, that we hope this good example will be followed by other Correspondents, as reviews of new works of a decidedly Classical nature would form welcome communications for this department of our Magazine. Life of Richard Bentley, D.D. Master of Trinity College, and Regius Professor of Divinity in the University of Cambridge, with an account of his Writings, and Anecdoles of contemporary Public Characters. By J. H. Monk, D.D. Dean of Peterborough (now Bishop of Gloucester). TO recount the various advantages attendant ou biography, were a work of supererogation. It was the pithy and just remark of our great moralist and critic, that "there is scarcely any person, however obscure, the story of whose life might not, if faithfully recorded, be made instructive to his fellow men." And although this will not excuse the excessive minuteness with which it has been long the custom to record the lives of even comparatively insignificant persons, yet few will deny that Biography, in order to be useful, must be circumstantial; and all must grant that the lives of men who were the most eminent of their class, whether as literati or persons eugaged in the active pursuits of life (especially if their existence was long, and passed in intercourse with other eminent persons) must be written in considerable detail, being in some measure the history, literary or civil, of the time when they lived. Now no persons were ever more decidedly the first of their class than Newton and Bentley; and yet, though we have long since had biographies of the former in some degree commensurate with his unrivalled fame, yet of the latter, until the present work, nothing worthy the name of a Biography had ever appeared. It is true that to competently accomplish such a work powers of no ordinary calibre are required. Yet when we consider that our own country has since the time of Bentley produced several who had the requisite endowments, it does seem not a little strange that such a work should never have been accomplished until the present time. Of those who were preeminently qualified for such a work, there have been Samuel Johnson, Richard Porson, Samuel Parr, and C. J. Blomfield. But besides these, there have been, and are, other persons, who, though ranking one degree below the above, have had and have the power of executing it to the satisfaction of the learned world. Among these is the distinguished scholar to whom we at length owe the present learned and most able and highly interesting piece of Biography. And when we consider that with his other eminent endowments, he unites that of being of the same college with Bentley, and having occupied highly important stations in the University of Cambridge for twenty years, we can with truth say that the work has fallen into the very hands which of all others we could have wished, and we cannot but congratulate the writer on having been, at length, (most worthily indeed) raised to the Episcopal Beuch. Now, to so considerable an addition to the literature of our country, it is alike our duty and our wish to bestow an attention, if not proportioned to its importance, yet as great as the nature of our Journal will admit. We shall therefore assign far more than the usual limits to our critique, and in forming it we shall not follow the custom of our quarterly essayists, but pursue a plan which shall let the Author stand prominent, and the Reviewer be kept in the back ground. We shall consult, if not our own fame, the instruction of our readers, by giving (as a sort of foretaste of the literary banquet in the work before us), a brief but correct outline of the Life of Bentley, formed chiefly from the present work, and comprehending such extracts as shall present a fair sample of the performance. We shall add such remarks as may strike us on some of the more important circumstances as they arise, and which may be not wholly undeserving of the notice of the learned and candid Biog rapher, who may, we can augur, anticipate an early opportunity of making use of the suggestions which may be offered by any of our fraternity. The illustrious subject of this biog |