St. Martin's, Coney Street.
All Saints', North Street.

More easily studied, because nearer to the eye, are the windows, again by the same hand, in the churches of St. Martin's, Coney Street, and All Saints', North Street. The former has a large west window containing a life-size figure of St. Martin, surrounded by small scenes from his life, the gift of a former vicar, Robert Semer, who has most obligingly recorded the date—1437—in an inscription. This would probably make it just a little later than the St. Cuthbert window, which its arrangement resembles. The glass at All Saints' is particularly interesting. The east window has three lights with large figures under canopies of the type shown in Plates [XXXIV.] and [XXXV.], which, though elaborate enough, have none of the unwieldiness of the fourteenth century type and are properly subordinate to the figures. These are St. Peter and St. Christopher (always a favourite subject in England), and, between them, St. Anne, teaching the Virgin to read. This last is a very beautiful group; the Virgin, a graceful girlish figure in white and yellow stain, with a wreath of white flowers round her head, is pointing with a short stick to the letters in a book held by her mother, who wears a deep ruby mantle over a blue dress, and a most curious red turban-like headdress[17] with ermine stripes, which is one of the most striking things in the window.

Below are the donors, Nicholas Blackburn, twice Mayor of York, and his wife Margaret ([Plate XXXVI.]), facing his son, also named Nicholas, and his wife, also named Margaret. The window has unfortunately been a good deal restored, and the background to the Blackburns is modern and was, I should think, originally blue. Modern, too, is the vivid green of the younger Nicholas's cloak. Margaret Blackburn, the elder, carries a book with the words, "Domine, labia mea aperies et os meum." The same verse occurs also, if I remember right, in a lady's hand at Selby Abbey. Were Yorkshire women, one wonders, so very silent?

Some of those in the north aisle are designed on the same plan as the St. William and St. Cuthbert windows, small subject panels arranged in rows. One shows the Six Corporal Acts of Mercy—Feeding the Hungry, Giving Drink to the Thirsty, Receiving Strangers, Clothing the Naked, Visiting the Sick, and Visiting the Prisoners. The little scenes are full of verve and "go," the fifteenth century artist having regained much of the life and vigour which makes the medallions of the Early Period so delightful, with an even greater power of expression. [Plate XXXIX.] represents the Merciful Man visiting the prisoners in the stocks. I wish Mr. Saint could have found time to have copied the whole of the scene, of which the humour is, I feel sure, not unconscious. Plates [XXXVII.] and [XXXVIII.] are from the bottom of this window, and show the donor and his wife with the priest saying mass for them.

Another window illustrates in a number of scenes the Last Fifteen Days of the World, as described in Richard Rolle's Pricke of Conscience, and is well calculated to make the evil-doer take thought and mend his ways.

PLATE XLVI
HEAD OF ST. CATHERINE,
FROM WINDOW ABOVE ALTAR IN NORTH-WEST CORNER
OF ST. VINCENT'S, ROUEN
Fifteenth Century

Through the energy of the present rector, a full and careful catalogue and description of all the old glass in the church has been prepared and published. I only wish this were done for the Cathedral and other churches in York, which is richer, perhaps, in the quantity of its old stained glass than any other city in the world.