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So shall we feel thy Spirit's power,
And so our meeting prove
Faint emblem of that happy hour
When we shall meet above.

Then, in that glorious garment drest
To all the faithful given,
May we partake an endless feast
With thee, our God, in heaven.

HENRY DOWNTON.

Miscellaneous.

Madonna degli Angeli. There we saw a fine church, which is built over a small brick house, rough in its exterior, but deemed most sacred, having been inhabited by San' Francesco at the time he first formed the rules of the order of friars who were afterwards called by his name. Over the door was a fresco by Overbeck; a German artist of great talent, now resident in Rome. I had seen many engravings from his paintings, and been charmed with the beauty of the composition, and the grace and expression of his figures: my expectations as to his paintings had been raised by the extravagant praise which I had heard bestowed upon them, but I confess that to me his colouring seemed cold and feeble.-Miss C. Taylor's Letters from Italy.

CHURCH RESTORATION*.-But the magnitude of the object before us demands a proportionate exercise of judgment and self-restraint, lest by our indiscretion, we prejudice the very cause we have at heart. It is not by lavish expenditure, showy decoration, or the revival of obsolete usages, that we shall promote the real welfare of our church, or the restoration of her altars: on the contrary, any appearance of extravagance, or of a superstitious tendency on our part, will alarm prejudice, and furnish selfishness with pleas for withholding what is due to God. Matters of taste are unduly magnified when they are allowed to put a stumbling-block and an occasion of offence in a brother's way. In all such cases the apostolic precept should be followed: "That we that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please ourselves." The arguments urged in aid of a cause, itself so noble, are not always suitable. For instance, the cost and sumptuousness of the Jewish temple are sometimes put forth as examples to modern churchbuilders. Yet the cases are surely not analogous. The religion of the Jews was ceremonial and emblematic, intended to strike upon the senses, and suited to a people too carnal to bear a more spiritual revelation. But its forms were to be done away, and the glories of its temple eclipsed by the clearer manifestation of Christ himself. And it is by a too close imitation of a worship thus symbolical, and in its nature transitory, that we believe the Romish church to have erred from the simplicity that is in Christ. The very essence of the Christian worship is its spirituality; the distinction of our own church, that she neither unduly magnifies nor rejects or decries the help furnished to devotion by outward appliances. And her architecture should be like her ritual-calm and holy, devout and reverential; as remote from what is gorgeous or gaudy, as from bald and penurious nakedness. There should be no danger of mistaking one of her churches for either a Romish chapel or a dissenting Lacry-meeting-house. The language of her ceremonial and Lord, for ever." And we shall best impart this sense of her services is," Holiness becometh thine house, of sacredness to her structures by the use of solid and durable materials, by just proportions, and a rigid adherence to architectural proprieties in their construction and arrangements, and by that personal awe for places so holy which appears in guarding them from profane uses, in devoutly frequenting them, in cherishing them as set apart for the worship, and especially consecrated by the presence, of the Lord Almighty.

Assisi. Having been advised by a friend in Rome not to leave Assisi unvisited, and as our road led us within about two miles of that town, we determined to walk thither while our horses baited, for we again travelled with Vetturino horses. Leaving the carriage, therefore, at La Madonna degli Angeli, we set forward. We had a steep hill to climb, and the day was intensely hot; but the church and convent of San' Francesco were in sight, and, forgetting our fatigue, we pressed on. These buildings stand on the edge of a lofty rock, and are seen for many miles around; I do not remember to have read any account of this church, and yet few objects have struck me more. There are, in fact, three churches, built one over the other the lowest is hollowed in the solid rock the second is supported on arches, which viewed at a distance have a fine and singular effect; and the whole is crowned by a semi-Gothic building, surmounted by a tower. We first visited the upper church, a spaeious aisle spanned by a single arch: the walls are covered with frescoes by Cimabue and Giotto: I regret that time did not permit us to examine these celebrated remains of early art". Descending to the second church, we were awe-struck as the door opened: the interior was perfectly dark to us, coming from the full blaze of an Italian noon-day sun. In the far distance we heard the solemn chanting of the requiem, which the friars were performing over the body of a departed brother. We descended a long flight of steps. Our eyes gradually became accustomed to the faint glimmering of light which the funereal tapers shed around, and by degrees we discovered the friars in their dark dresses, and the priests officiating at the altar. There was an awful and almost fearful solemnity in the scene: those unearthly voices, now dying away in the plaintive strain of the " mosa," now swelling loud in the tremendous" Dies Iræ." Sweet female voices, mingling from time to time with the harsher chanting of the friars, filled the subterranean arches with rich and beautiful harmony. I could scarcely breathe it was as if a spell were on me. Soon, however, the sounds ceased; the last rites were performed; and, as we stood, a long train of nuns, all closely veiled, passed us. Then friars flitted past, and soon the church was silent as the grave. We were then conducted to the lower church, where repose the bones of San' Francesco of Assisi, the founder of the order of Franciscans. This church is comparatively modern, and not very interesting. Finding that the hour we had appointed for our return was long past, we descended the hill quickly to La An account of them will be found in "Kugler's Hand-Book of the History of Painting."

From "Parochialia; or Church, School, and Parish," by the rev. John Sandford, M.A., vicar of Dunchurch, chaplain to the lord bishop of Worcester, and hon. canon of Worcester, Longmans, 1845.

London: Published for the Proprietors by EDWARDS and HUGHES, 12, Ave Maria Lane, St. Paul's; J. BURNS, 17, Portman Street: and to be procured, by order, of all Booksellers in Town and Country.

PRINTED BY

JOSEPH ROGERSON, 24, NORFOLK-STREET, STRAND, LONDON.

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CHURCH OF BOSHAM.

BOSHAM, anciently Bosenham, in the county of Sussex, four miles west of Chichester, was at one period a place of great importance. In the reign of Edward the Confessor it was the occasional residence of earl Godwin, whose son Harold, after wards king of England, sailing from thence, was driven by a storm upon the territory of Guy, count of Ponthieu, by whom he was made prisoner, and conveyed to the castle of Beauvain. He was liberated by William, duke of Normandy, on condition that he should promote the duke's interests and further his advancement to the English throne. But, after his return, he secured the crown to himself, which led to the battle of Hastings, where he was slain*. There are some vestiges remaining of the castle.

It will be borne in mind that many curious legends are extant respecting Harold's fate; some stating that he was removed VOL. XVIII.

The church of Bosham is supposed to have been built about A.D. 1120, by William Warlewast, bishop of Exeter. It was collegiate; consisting of a dean and five prebendaries. It was a royal free chapel, exempt from ecclesiastical jurisdiction, until the dissolution, when it was made parochial. It was invested with many privileges, deemed at the period most valuable, which raised it in dignity and importance.

The church itself is chiefly in the early English style. In a niche in the north wall is the recumbent effigy of a female. The Norman font is still preserved. There are some remains of the prebendaries' stalls, and a few vestiges of the conventual buildings There was a small monastery founded here, by Adelwach (see Lewis's Top Dic., &c.

from the battle-field still breathing, and ended his days at a cell near the abbey of St. John, at Chester, where he lived as an anchorite; others affirming that his corpse was conveyed to Waltham abbey, which he had founded.

L

Biography.

CHURCH OF ENGLAND MAGAZINE.

RICHARD FOX, BISHOP OF WINCHESTER.

RICHARD Fox was born at Ropesley, near Grantham, in Lincolnshire. He was first a member of Magdalen college, Oxford, which, however, he was obliged to leave on account of the plague. He then went to Pembroke hall, Cambridge, of which he was elected master A.D. 1507, and held the situation until 1517, though during that period he filled the see of Winchester. He was elected chancellor of the university the year in which he was translated from the see of Durham to Winchester. Henry VII. advanced him to the highest honours, and chose him one of the sponsors of Henry VIII.; in whose reign, however, not finding his influence great, he retired from court with archbishop Warham, A.D.

1515.

built and endowed by him at Taunton, and another at Grantham. The abbey of Netley also shared his munificence.

Bishop Fox died 14th October, 1528, and was buried with great solemnity beneath the floor of his own chapel. The exact place of his sepulture was for some time uncertain; but, on investigation being made, the tomb was discovered and opened.

The account of the state in which the remains ment from Dr. Nott, one of the prebendaries, is were found is peculiarly interesting: the statecollege:kindly supplied by a late fellow of Corpus Christi

DEAR SIR,-I much lament that a long and painful illness has prevented my fulfilling earlier the promise which I made to you some time ago, of describing the state in which we found the tomb of bishop Fox, the venerable founder of your college, when we were obliged to replace the stone that covered it (the old stone having fallen in), and the singular remains of what seems to have been an old painted altar piece, discovered lying in it. necessary to remove the earth which had accumulated On the 25th of January, 1820, we had found it at the back of the altar screen to the height of about three feet. To do this, it was requisite that the steps should be lowered which led through bishop Fox's chantry from the southern aisle to the back of the altar screen.

Hume says: "The ministers whom Henry most trusted and favoured were not chosen from among the nobility, or even from among the laity. John Morton and John Fox, two clergymen, persons of industry, vigilance, and capacity, were the men to whom he confided his affairs and secret counsels. They had shared with him all his former dangers and distresses, and he now took care to make them participate in his good fortune. Morton was restored to the bishopric of Ely Fox was created bishop of Exeter. The former, soon after the death of Bouchier, was raised to the see of Canterbury. The latter was made privy seal, and successively bishop of Bath and Wells, Durham, and Winchester.' Henry," as lord Bacon well observes, "loved to employ and advance prelates; because, having rich bishoprics to bestow, it was easy for him to reward their services. And it was his maxim to raise them by slow steps, and make them first tionably affords one of the most extraordinary examples of depass through the inferior sees.

In lowering the steps, we took up a small part of the paving of the floor adjoining to them, and were surprised at finding very near the surface what looked like a ledger stone. We naturally inferred if this

"Passing through the iron gate in the south aisle, we be"Forhold with admiration the sumptuous and elaborate monumental chapel of bishop Richard Fox, the founder of Corpus Christi Kellow, mason, of this city; and it now appears with all that college, Oxford, which has recently been restored by Mr. James

"The chief competitors for favour and authority," says Hume, "under the new king, were the earl of Surrey, treasurer, and Fox, bishop of Winchester. This prelate, who enjoyed great credit during all the former reign, had acquired such habits of caution and frugality as he could not easily lay aside; and he still opposed by his remonstrances those schemes of dissipation and expense which the youth and passions of Henry rendered agreeable to him." Surrey's conduct was far more suited to the monarch's tastes.

It would appear, however, that bishop Fox did not retire from public political life without seriously and solemnly warning the monarch to beware of the encroachments of Wolsey, his aim at unlimited authority and supreme power, nor to suffer the servant to be greater than his master. It had been well for the haughty cardinal and the licentious monarch, had these monitions been attended to.

He was a great promoter of architectural improvements, as the cathedral of Durham and the episcopal castle bear witness. At Winchester his chapel remains as a lasting monument of his taste and munificence.

During the last ten years of his life bishop Fox was entirely deprived of his sight. It does not appear, however, that the time was spent by him in idleness. Corpus Christi college, Oxford, owes its foundation to this prelate. A school was

freshness and perfection which it had when first erected. In this magnificent chapel every effort of ingenuity and skilful workmanship has been exerted to its utmost; and it unques

sign and sculpture in existence. Four equal divisions compose the architectural design of the front, the elegance of which corresponds with the ornaments that enrich it. These divisions are formed by octagonal turrets, rising from the pavement, and exceeding the height of the surmounting parapet, where they are from the ornamented course below the parapet, are smaller larger and more decorated. Between these turrets, and rising finials, each supporting a pelican, the favourite device of Fox. The height of the chapel is divided into two stories: the lower, of solid masonry, is enriched by a series of canopied niches and panelled compartments of elegant design and exquisite workmanship. In the western division is the door of entrance to

the chapel; and in the third division eastward, which projects a little on the basement, is an arched recess, containing a sculptured effigy of the bishop, who is represented as an emaciated corpse, clothed in a winding sheet. The divisions of the upper story are composed of large arches: the spandrils are charged with pelicans; and the arches are subdivided into two open compartments by ornamented mullions, forming inner arches terminated by crocketed finials. These are also divided into surmounting cornice and its parapet are very elegant: the protwo openings, and, in their height, by embattled transoms. The jecting course is enriched by a very beautifully designed and

sculptured band of entwined vine leaves, with fruit and tendrils delicately under-cut, and marked with the initial letters 'H.W.' in one part. The parapet is composed of lozenge-shaped compartments, enclosing quatrefoils in open work, and terminated by large and small leaves alternately disposed on the summit. Between the octagonal turrets and the outer mouldings of the

arches on windows of the upper story are canopied niches, which, together with those on the lower story, make the whole number of niches, which originally contained statues, thirtyeight. Their canopies are nearly alike, the difference being only in the detail of the ornaments. The pedestals, intended to sustain the figures, are remarkably elegant, particularly those rising from the base of the chapel. The whole of the open work

between the arches was originally filled with stained glass of the tirely demolished by the soldiery in 1642. Behind the altar of most exquisite colours and design, the whole of which was en

this chapel is a small oratory, to which the founder resorted for devotion. It has no other ornament than a large niche. The ambries belonging to this little vestry are still remaining in their original position."

was really a ledger stone it could belong only to bishop Fox's tomb; though it had been generally believed that the tomb lay much deeper. To ascertain the point, we removed more of the paving, and soon found that the stone in question was really the ledger to bishop Fox's tomb. But we found at the same time that it was broke in three pieces; that those pieces, instead of being placed in close contact, were separated five or six inches one from the other; and that the earth was constantly falling in upon the coffin, through the interval between the separated portions of the ledger. This was ascertained by introducing a candle at the open interval. The light thus admitted enabled us to observe that the coffin was entire, and that the lid lay upon it in the manner it had been originally placed, though it seemed evident that it had never been fastened down with nails; and the coffin itself appeared to have been loose planks fastened lightly together, rather than of the usual compact construction. We remarked also that, besides the earth which had fallen in upon the coffin from the fissures of the ledger, there were four or five large pieces of stone laying edgeways between the coffin and the side of the tomb. We at first thought that they might have been broken pieces of the ledger; but, on removing them (which was done easily by the hand on lifting up one of the broken portions of the ledger), we found them to be of a very different sort of stone, and covered with painted figures. These fragments were carefully removed to the chapter-room, and the tomb closed up, as well as the state of the then existing ledger permitted.

The dean and the prebendaries present then considered what was best to be done towards preserving the tomb and the remains of your venerated founder secure from injury; and it was resolved immediately to remove the broken ledger, supply a new one, and take out carefully the dirt and rubbish that had fallen in upon the coffin, fastening the stones with strong cement when they should be laid down again, and providing a proper inscription to note when these reparations were made.

A stone being prepared by the 28th, in the morning of that day the prebendaries in residence, and myself as treasurer, attended to see that everything was done with care and decency. The dean would have attended, but his health did not permit him to do so. All the broken pieces of the old ledger being removed, and an imperfect piece of arching that covered the lower end of the tomb, the whole lay open to view. Our first care was to take out gently by the hand all the earth that had fallen in. A large quantity of earth was so removed; but it was evidently no more than what had fallen in in the course of years through the fissures of the ledger, for, when the whole was cleared, it became manifest to all observers that the tomb and coffin had never suffered injury either from sacrilegious profanement or rude curiosity. There was only one circumstance which authorized a suspicion that the tomb had ever been opened, which circumstance was this. On removing the lid of the coffin, the remains of the venerable figure lay exactly in the form in which they must have been placed when the coffin was closed: the right hand rested on the bosom; the glove which covered it was entire, though the colour was fled; but there was no ring observable either on the thumb or any of the fingers. To be certain of this, the person who had gone into the tomb to clean it out was directed to feel whether any ring was covered by the glove. He satisfied us fully that there was none: had there been one fallen off from the hand it must have been seen, for the figure lay undisturbed, and in many places the folds of the robes were entire. We were all convinced, therefore, that there was no ring remaining, which leads us to suppose that the tomb had once been opened; for in former days it was,

I believe, invariably the custom for bishops to be buried with some ring on the right hand: religious notions were even attached to the observance of it.

The

There was no other circumstance whatever that could justify the belief that the tomb had ever been visited before. On each side of the coffin lay the pieces of the wands of the officers who had attended the funeral; for on solemn occasions it is customary for the officers, before the grave is closed, to break their wands and lay them beside the coffin. bishop's head rested, gently inclined, upon his bosom: the features were destroyed; but there was enough of the dried flesh remaining to give a general, though an indistinct, appearance of a human face. The mitre, in great part remaining, continued on the head. It had been of velvet: the plush was quite destroyed, but the web was nearly entire. On the left side lay the crozier: the hand, bent round, still seemed to hold it. The hand was covered with a glove, which was perfect, though colourless, and preserved all the bones in their places: the articulations of the joints were distinctly visible. The crozier was of wood, very neatly carved at the top part: at the bottom there were marks of a ferule having been once attached; but it had fallen off. The crozier did not appear to have been covered with velvet, as was usually the case; indeed, the carved work upon it was of a nature not to have been hid. The appearance of the crozier was altogether so interesting that we deemed it worthy of being taken up, for the purpose of having an accurate drawing made of it. Two were made by Mr. Cave, an artist of considerable merit at this place. One of those drawings is preserved by the dean and chapter, the other is forwarded, at your desire, for the president of your college.

The feet of the figure were in boots, a well-known part of the customary dress of ecclesiastics in those days, in which they were generally buried. Between the feet lay a small leaden box, very carefully fastened up: it was about two inches and a half long by two inches wide. It had no inscription on it except the initials "R. F." This box was taken up and was afterwards opened in the dean's presence. I will describe its contents presently.

The tomb contained no further object of curiosity. It was about seven feet long, and two feet nine wide at the widest part: the extreme ends were proportionally narrow it was about four feet deep, and was very neatly built of stones nicely squared and jointed. The stone was left of its natural colour: we observed no trace either of painting or engraving on its sides: there was no date on any part of it.

The only additional remark I shall trouble with is, that the nearer inspection we had of the coffin this morning confirmed the conjecture which the first view of it had led us to form, of its having been made of planks very loosely fastened together; such as might have been used either for the sake of great humility, or from circumstances that required haste.

Every thing having been carefully examined and placed in decent order, the ledger, which had been previously prepared, was laid over the tomb, and neatly fastened with cement. On the ledger the following inscription was engraved :-"The stone that covered this tomb having become dilapidated, it was replaced by a new one, January 28, 1820. Thomas Rennell, D.D., dean."

Such are the particulars which I have to communicate respecting the causes that led to the opening of your founder's tomb, and what occurred in the doing of it. It remains now to speak of the contents of the small leaden box, and to describe the fragments of the painted stone taken out of the tomb.

The box contained a small piece of vellum, carefully folded together, on which were written very neatly, in gothic characters, the following words (the ink was uncommonly good and black):

"Quinto die Octobris, anno domini millimo quin- | gentesimo. vicesimo octavo, obiit et sepultus est Ricardus Fox, hujus Ecclesiæ Epūs. qui hanc rexit ecclesiam septem et viginti annis integrè."

This inscription is interesting on two accounts: First, it gives us the true date of Fox's death. Godwin mentions none. Richardson, in his edition of Godwin, gives the date the 14th of September, but this is evidently an erroneous date. Secondly, the inscription seems to imply that the good bishop was buried the day on which he died. There are some circumstances that make this event by no means improbable. Fox had long contemplated his approaching end with such complacency that he is said to have wished for it earnestly. He was of an extremely humble mind, and avoided pomp and parade, as far as his own person was concerned. He was aware also of Wolsey's impatience to become possessed of the see and its treasures, which had been promised to him at his death. If we suppose that Fox was buried on the same day in which he died, we shall be able to account for the appearance of the coffin, which seems as if it had been hastily and inartificially put together. A fac-simile of the inscription is annexed to the drawing of the crozier.

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Width at the feet 1 6 The coffin was of oak. There was no appearance of a single nail having been used about it.

It may be satisfactory for yourself and the college to be informed that, when the tomb was cleared and the lid replaced on the coffin, and every thing was arranged previous to the putting down the ledger, there was an air of peace and repose in the whole which it was soothing to the mind to contemplate. It assimilated itself to the firm belief we are permitted, through God's mercies in Christ, to encourage, that the good are blest, and that their works follow them, that they are more than at rest, that they are in joy and felicity as soon as they ccase from their labours. The sacred calm that seemed to hover round the remains of your venerable founder operated on me powerfully to subdue that dread of death in which sometimes we indulge irrationally and even improperly, seeing that a Christian's hopes are brightest on the other side the grave. I did not quit the spot until all was secured; and, when the stone closed upon the good bishop's tomb-not to be removed, I hope, till the last day-I fervently ejaculated within myself, "O, may my latter end be like his." respects to the president and the

I beg my best college, and am,

Respecting the pieces of stone which had been found in bishop Fox's tomb, nothing but conjecture can be offered concerning them; and those conjectures will be, I fear, far from satisfactory. We joined the pieces of stone together with the utmost care, and were enabled to make out the figures painted on them with accuracy. A drawing was made of them for the dean and chapter by a gentleman well versed in antiquities, and an admirable draftsman, who chanced, fortunately for us, to be at Winchester at the time: his name is Mr. Shipster. As to the subject of the painting, I apprehend there can be little doubt of its being the coronation of the virgin Mary. This was a favourite subject among the Roman catholics of former days. I have seen it represented in a variety of ways; sometimes on corbel stones, sometimes as apitals of columns, sometimes over the entrances of doors, sometimes as ornameuts in chapels, and in one instance as the finishing of a crozier. In many in- SHORT stances the mode of representing the coronation of the virgin is similar to that of the painting in question. On this head, therefore, I apprehend there can be no doubt. How it came to be preserved in Fox's tomb, and when it was painted, it must be very difficult to ascertain. That it was painted long anterior to Fox's time seems to me clear, from the dress of the personges, the tressure which forms the frame, as it were, of the picture, and the gothic ornaments on the seat. I think that these may be safely referred to the early part of the 13th century.

If I were to offer any conjecture as to the stones being preserved, mutilated, in Fox's tomb, it should be the following:-Fox's chantry stands on the site of an old chapel; for a range of chapels, including St. Swithin's shrine, stood, it is now clearly ascertained, behind the high altar screen: it is not improbable but that Fox, in building his chantry, might have destroyed a chapel, of which the painting in question might have formed the ornament over the altar. The stone we may suppose to have been broken in taking down; which is rendered probable by the nature of it, for it is Purbeck marble, which, when it is long exposed to the air, is very liable to break. The stone being broke, it is far from improbable that Fox, to show his veneration for a relic once hallowed, might have ordered it to be inclosed in his tomb, to secure it from profanation, being no longer fit for religious purposes. If we do not suppose the fragments to have been placed in the tomb by design, it will be difficult to conjecture how they could have come there, especially as they were placed in an artificial manner. If they were placed there by design, it must have been

My dear sir,
Very faithfully, yours,
GEO. FRED. Nott.

Close, Winchester, Sept. 3, 1821.

READINGS FOR FAMILY PRAYERS.

No. XXVII.

BY THE REV. HENRY WOODWARD,
Rector of Fethard, Tipperary.

WANDERINGS IN PRAYER.

THERE is no complaint more frequent amongst those who care for their salvation, than that of wanderings in prayer. And it has been doubted by some whether any, even of the holiest saints, have their thoughts so fully in subjection as to be quite free from this infirmity.

When we enter into our closet, and shut to the door, and kneel down in solitude and stillness, to realize God's presence and hold communion with heaven, such is the moment at which the great adversary most anxiously and actively plies his warfare against the soul. Now it is that he makes his most subtle and vigorous assaults, not upon the outworks of our more exterior life, but upon the citadel of thought itself. We have now withdrawn from the bustling and seductive world around us. He has now no alluring objects to place before our eyes, no siren's songs with which to charm our ears, no scenes of busy life to shift before us, no succession of visitors or intruders whom he can bring in, and set to talk about this world, and make the heart forget that there is another. No: from all these the man who betakes himself to prayer is now removed, and would

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