and beneath is a narrow ledge, which it has been presumed was a contrivance to relieve the old monks from the fatigue of standing, during the parts of the service where that position is prescribed by the rubric; they were supposed to lean upon these ledges in a half-sitting posture; but a much more reasonable conjecture is, that they were intended as rests for the elbows and missal when kneeling in prayer; a glance at them when turned up instantly suggests the idea of a prie dieu, which they closely resemble. The lower parts of these misereres, as they were called, are decorated in a most elaborate manner with carving, and supported by bosses, sometimes of one or more figures, often foliage, fruit, and flowers, or shields. Among them may be found the figures of a lion and dragon biting each other; owls and little birds fighting; Sampson in armour (?) slaying the lion; monkeys fighting, one holding a rod, another in a wheelbarrow; the prodigal son feeding swine; a monk tearing a dog’s hind legs; another flogging a little boy, amid a group of other urchins; and numerous other equally inexplicable designs. If, indeed, such objects did occupy the place under the eyes of the monks at their devotions, they must have served admirably to train the risible muscles to self-command.

It is among these carvings that the presumed satires are to be found, that are attributed to the dissensions

existing between the secular and regular clergy, about the period of the building of the Cathedral; they would have us interpret them as something akin to liberty of the press, with all its caprices, sarcasms, and ironical sneers; but as the self-same subjects have been found to range over the works of the carvers from the thirteenth century down to the Reformation, and on the Continent as well as in this country, it is much more probable that they were copies from the illustrations of books, at that time popular, or from the illuminations of fanciful legends, upon which the monks were continually engaged, and which were always at hand to serve as patterns for the workmen. The Bestiaria, a work very celebrated, has been suggested as the source of many of the figures; among its pages figured mermaids, unicorns, dragons, &c.; and the calendars also, in which the agricultural pursuits of each month were depicted on the top of the page, might form another copy to be modelled from. Such is the most probable way of accounting for the presence of such objects, although it is possible that in an age when the church offered scope for every talent to display itself, so, obscure recesses were found for the offspring of these original, though not very refined, creations of fancy, often, however, executed by the hands of skilful craftsmen.

One look at the antique specimen of the reading

desk—a pelican supporting it with the clot of blood on its breast, symbolizing, we are told, the shedding of the blood of Christ, as that bird sheds its blood for its young. It may, or may not be so—but if it be, it is indeed a gross substitute for the eagle, a symbol that has at least poetry and spirituality to recommend it.

Beyond this, and behind the high altar, in the recess of the apse, once stood the bishop’s throne, a plain stone chair, in the days when the priests did occupy their places in the church. The seat may still be seen in the aisle, at the back of this spot, by any one adventurous enough to climb a ladder, and peep into a niche they will find high up in the wall.

We let pulpits and thrones of the present day speak for themselves, and leaving the choir, take a brief look at the fine old chapels of St. Luke and Jesus, on the north and south side of the apse. The former still remains in good preservation, and is used as the parish church of St. Mary in the Marsh, destroyed by Herbert, the founder of both these chapels, as well as the Cathedral. The only font within the precincts is here; it is an ancient affair, brought hither from the demolished church, and is decorated with carvings, representing the seven sacraments, the four evangelists, and divers figures of popes, saints, confessors, &c. Over this chapel is the treasury of the dean and chapter, from amongst whose

stores, hid up where moth and rust do corrupt, a beautiful and curious painting of scenes in the life of Christ, has been of late years rescued, and promoted to the honour of a place in the vestry room (the ancient prison of the monastery), where it has been placed under a glass case. It appears to have served originally as some part of the decoration of an altar, and was set in a frame, the mouldings of which are richly diapered and ornamented with gilding, with impressed work and fragments of coloured glass inserted at intervals, a mode of enrichment of which specimens are very rare in this country. The corners of the frame had been removed to adapt it to the purpose of a table, at the period of the great “dissolution,” where it had remained with its back serving for the top of the required table, until accident revealed it to the eyes of archæological research.

The painting is divided into five compartments, each on a separate panel, the subjects being the Flagellation of Christ, Christ bearing the Cross, the Crucifixion, and the Ascension. The entire back-grounds of the paintings are gilded and diapered in curious patterns, and the ornaments, such as the bosses of the harness on the horses of the soldiers, the goldsmith’s work on the cingulum or belt, are in slight relief. This mode of painting is described as being executed upon a thin coating of composition, made of whiting and white of egg, laid on the

oaken panel; upon this the outline of the design was traced with a red line, and the spaces designed to receive gilding were then marked out with fresh whitening and egg; the stems marked with a modelling tool, and leaves added by filling moulds with the paste, and fixing them by pressure on the surface of the picture; the puncture work and little toolings were then produced, and the modelling finished. The gilded portions were next covered with gold leaf, and the artist proceeded with his pictures, using transparent colours liquefied by white of egg.