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soul she, well born and pure, entered a rescue home and put on the garb of a penitent among the women gathered in out of the streets. Along with this went the example of life offered by Father Tracey, the old priest before spoken of, who had resigned a parish and was now chaplain to this Good Shepherd convent. The other causes are different in kind. One was a return to England, where in Aylesbury he visited his former parishioners. In some of the English homes respectable shopkeepers remembered his name vaguely, and he turned to Primrose Lane, the Latin and Celtic quarter, to see if here too he was dead and forgotten.
• He became aware of loud whispering behind him from the open doors.
"Tis him.” “'Tis n't.” “I tell you 'tis him. Wouldn't I know his grand walk anywhere ?” “Yerra, not at all. Sure, he's away in the ould counthry!” “But I say it is, 'uman! I'd know him if he was biled!” And with that they fall upon him, in their demonstrative, affectionate, unprogressive way-un progressive, because a proper attention to the important business of life passes a wet sponge over the memory of the affections—and Luke found in this sentimental trait a value which obscured his sense of its economic cost. The third cause which completed his severance from the Anglo-Saxon camp and fully reconciled him with his own people was at once economic and political. Here we must say that Father Sheehan puts a case somewhat extravagantly fictitious : for the notion of an Irish landlord raising his rents to-day has come to be unthinkable. However, here is the story. Canon Murray had stood effectually between his people and their absentee overlord, and there had never been evictions in his parish. One must suppose also that he had kept them out of the Land Court. The industries which he had organised among them had made them prosper, and he was mightily proud of the fact, which he stated one day to a stranger in the local post office, that the exports of butter, eggs, poultry, and honey from the place represented a profit of some 3,0001. a year. The stranger turned out to be the absentee landlord, who promptly ordered his rents to be put up by that figure ; the result was resistance and wholesale evictions, in the course of which Luke saw his father's house burnt down, and a riot happened which put him in the dock and in gaol for resisting the military. After that, of course, he might do and say what he liked in Ireland-he could do or say nothing wrong in the eyes of the Irish. Father Sheehan's case, as
the rest which Lahich put him that, of
we have said, seems to us not only fictitious, but impossible under the existing order. But Father Sheehan is entitled to say that he represents only what would certainly happen were it not that Ireland's importunity has prevailed over the principles of efficiency and free competition to establish in Ireland a special order which defies all the doctrines of political economy and prevents land from letting as it did before the last twenty years at its true, that is, its competitive value. The Irish peasant, recalcitrant to progress, has procured exemption from the action of those laws which regulate the housing problem in London or Chicago. An arbitrary legislation has interfered with the great natural process which was forcing him either into the manufacturing districts of England or Scotland, or, better still, overseas to the United States, where he would gradually adopt a higher standard of living, gain the chance of amassing money, and probably disembarrass himself of his superstitious beliefs.
We should be sorry to argue with Father Sheehan, and indeed it is unnecessary. The Anglo-Saxon ideal is unquestionably the right one, as is admitted by the more candid even among the Latin races—for example, by M. Demolins-and Father Sheehan himself allows that the Irishman living in England is automatically converted to it. If it should be urged by him or by another that the ideal of material progress, as an indispensable preliminary to the higher spiritual civilisation, or we may say, Anglicisation of the world, is an ideal which cannot well be reconciled with all the doctrines of Christianity, we would reply that this only holds good of the literal, or, as Swift said, “real Christianityto establish which would indeed be' (again in Swift's words) a wild project; it would be to dig up foundations—to destroy at one blow all the wit and half the learning of the • kingdom—to break the entire frame and constitution of things, to ruin trade, extinguish arts and sciences with the professors of them; in short, to turn our courts, exchanges, ‘and shops into deserts, and would be full as absurd as the
proposal of Horace when he advises the Romans all in a body to leave their city, and seek a new seat in some remote part of the world by way of cure for the corruption of their manners.' And of this impossible ideal, this preposterous and unprogressive religion, it is as true to-day as in Swift's time that it has been for some time wholly laid
aside by general consent' (of the Anglo-Saxon world) 'as • utterly inconsistent with our present schemes of wealth • and power.'
ART. VII.-1. The Old Royal Palace of Whitehall. By
EDGAR SHEPPARD, D.D. London: Longmans, Green, &
Co. 1902. 2. The Secret History of Whitehall. By W. Jones, gent.
London : 1697. 3. Memorials of St. James's Palace. By EDGAR SHEPPARD,
D.D. London: Longmans, Green, & Co., 1894. 4. The History and Survey of London. By B. LAMBERT.
London: T. Hughes, 1806. 5. The Old Court Suburb. By LEIGH Hunt. London: Hurst
& Blackett, 1855. 6. Kensington Palace. By ERNEST LAW. London: George
Bell & Sons. 1899. The royal palaces of London have a special interest this
year, when the English monarchy and its historic associations are vividly recalled to men's minds by the coronation of King Edward VII. Of these palaces only one, and that the least interesting-Buckingham Palaceis the residence of the King. St. James's still remains the official court and the scene of levees and investitures. But the glories of Kensington and Whitehall are wholly of the past.
Little or nothing is left of Whitehall, if we except the magnificent banqueting hall. Yet the palace of Whitehall was for centuries the chief London residence of our monarchs, and no review of the royal palaces of London would be complete which did not take it into account. The original building of Whitehall was erected in the reign of Henry III. by Hugo de Burgh, Earl of Kent and Chief Justiciary of England. At his death it passed either by will or sale into the hands of some Preaching or Black Friars, and they sold it in 1248 to Walter de Grey, Archbishop of York. From that time to the fall of Cardinal Wolsey, nearly three centuries later, it served as the London residence of the northern primates, and was called York House. As an archiepiscopal palace, York House was for long the centre of much ecclesiastical pomp and state. But it was Wolsey who raised it to its zenith; he rebuilt a great part of the palace, and added a ball and chapel. At York House this prince of the Church entertained with sumptuous magnificence; the splendours of his equipage and liveries, the costliness of his entertainments, and the profusion and extravagance of his household were never before equalled by any English subject, peer or prelate. But Wolsey's day at York House, though brilliant, was brief. Anne Boleyn was prejudiced against him, and King Henry VIII. attributed to him the failure of the negotiations for the divorce of Catherine of Arragon; perhaps too the pomp and display affected by the Cardinal aroused the King's jealousy. Wolsey was ignominiously turned out of York House; the palace was seized by the King, and henceforth called Whitehall. Some authorities say that the unfortunate Cardinal handed the palace over to his rapacious master as a peace-offering in vain, others that the King took it without ceremony. However that may be, it is certain that Henry VIII. got Whitehall for nothing, and could therefore afford to enlarge and beautify it. This he did in many ways, notably by obtaining land from the Abbot of Westminster, and enclosing it with a wall as a park ' for his Grace's singular pleasure, comfort, and com'modity,' as Strype has it, to the great credit of the
realm. The King also added to the palace a spacious room for entertainments, a finer chapel, galleries, a cockpit, and a tennis court. When all was completed Henry VIII. came to Whitehall with his Court, and the palace henceforth became the principal London residence of our English monarchs until it was destroyed by fire more than a century later.
The succeeding Tudor sovereigns did little or nothing for Whitehall. James I. on his accession found the palace sadly out of repair, and resolved to rebuild it on a regal scale. He consulted Inigo Jones, who prepared elaborate plans, far beyond his royal master's means or needs. They were only in part carried out, but the superb banqueting hall remains to this day a witness of the magnificence of the architect's designs. For the rest, it has been well said that the Whitehall of Inigo Jones is an unrealised dream.'
Charles I. at one time thought of carrying on the work begun by his father, and employed Rubens to paint the ceiling of the banqueting hall, and commissioned Vandyck to paint the walls, but political troubles came all too soon, and Vandyck's commission was never executed.
After the Restoration Charles II, commanded Sir Christopher Wren to draw up plans for the improvement of Whitehall, but through lack of money nothing was done, and until the end Whitehall remained much as Inigo Jones had left it. Even so it was a truly regal palace, chiefly in
the style of Tudor architecture, a large rambling building, or rather group of buildings, extending far along the river.
Whitehall is rich in memories; they crowd in so fast that it is difficult to enumerate them. Memories of Wolsey quitting it for ever, all his pride laid low, and the thought already in his mind to which he later gave utterance : * Had I but served my God as diligently as I have served smy king, He would not have given me over in my
grey hairs; ' of Henry VIII. entering upon possession of the palace he had robbed from the Church and hurling defiance at Rome and its thunders; of the great Queen Bess, who held here in the early days of her glorious reign many masques and revels; of James I., “the modern • Solomon, listening to the disputes of learned doctors of divinity, and occasionally lecturing them himself; of his son and successor taking counsel with Laud, who came over by water from Lambeth, as they paced beneath the trees of the privy garden. But chief of all is that tragic scene on a bleak January morning two and a half centuries ago when King Charles I. showed his people that if he did not know how to reign at least he knew how to die.
In his recent interesting work, The Old Royal Palace of 'Whitehall,' Dr. Sheppard enters at length upon the vexed question of the exact site of the scaffold and the precise position of the window, or hole in the wall, of the banqueting hall through which Charles I. passed to his execution. The controversy is unnecessary, for the main evidence is clear, The warrant for the execution expressly prescribed that the King was to be beheaded in the open streete before · Whitehall,' and Sir Thomas Herbert, who attended his royal master in his last moments, in his Memoirs says: "The King was led along all the galleries and banqueting 'house, and there was a passage broken through the wall ' by which the King passed unto the scaffold.'
The glories of Whitehall were never greater than in the years immediately following the Restoration. Here the merry monarch held high court; the halls echoed with laughter and song, and the sound of music and the dance; gay courtiers and fair ladies flitted along the innumerable galleries and corridors, Chiffinch was busy on the back stairs, and Pepys and Evelyn came and went, and noted all they saw. The King, the Queen, Prince Rupert, and the Duke of Monmouth were lodged at Whitehall, and others too, among them Lady Castlemaine, who had hardly
Things was to boa Sir Thomoments, inebies and banue mali