ons. Cassiodorus and Fortunatus mention the word organ as a musical instrument, but it has been thought to have been a collection of tubes blowed into by the human breath. Muratori has contended that the art of making organs like ours was known in the eighth century only to the Greeks; that the first organ in Europe was the one sent to Pepin from Greece in 756; and that it was in 826 that a Venetian priest, who had discovered the secret, brought it into France. A passage which I have observed in Aldhelm's poem, De Laude Virginum, entirely overthrows these theories; for he, who died in 709, and who never went to Greece, describes them in a manner which shows that he was acquainted with great organs made on the same principle as

our own:

Maxima millenis auscultans organa flabris Mulceat auditum ventosis follibus iste Quamlibet auratis fulgescant cætera capsis. This is literally, Listening to the greatest organs with a thousand blasts, the ear is soothed by the windy bellows, while the rest shines in the gilt chests.' Dunstan, great in all the knowledge of his day, as well as in his ambition, is described to have made an organ of brass pipes, elaborated by musical measures, and filled with air from the bellows. The bells he made have been mentioned before. About the same time we have the description of an organ made in the church at Ramsey. The earl devoted thirty pounds to make the copper pipes of organs, which, resting with their openings in thick order on the spiral winding in the inside, and being struck, on feast days, with the strong blast of bellows, emit a sweet melody, and a far-resounding peal.' In 669 Theodore and Adrian, who planted learning among the Anglo-Saxons, also introduced into Kent the ecclesiastical chanting, which Gregory the Great had much improved. From Kent it was carried into the other English churches. In 678 one John came also from Rome, and taught in his monastery the Roman mode of singing, and was directed, by the pope, to diffuse it amongst the rest of the clergy, and left written directions to perpetuate it. Under his auspices it became a popular study in the Saxon monasteries. We have a pleasing proof of the impressive effect of the sacred music of the monks, in the little poem which Canute the Great made upon it. As the monarch, with his queen and courtiers, were approaching Ely, the monks were at their devotions. The king, attracted by the melody, ordered his rowers to approach it, and to move gently while he listened to the sounds which came floating through the air from the church on the high rock before him. He was so delighted by the effect, that he made a poem on the occasion, of which the first stanza only has come down to us. There are many ancient MSS. of the Anglo-Saxor times, which contain musical notes.'

He thus describes, after Muratori, what is known of their mode of illuminating books

The Anglo-Saxons were fond of beautifying their MSS. with drawings with ink of various colors, colored parchment, and sometimes with gilt letters. The Gospels, Nero, D. 4., exhibit a

The

splendid instance of these ornaments. Franco-theotisc Gospels, Calig. A. 7., are also highly decorated. Many Saxon MSS. in the Cotton Library exhibit very expensive, and what in those days were thought beautiful, illuminations. The art of doing these ornaments has been long in disuse; but some of the recipes for the materials have been preserved. They prepared their parchment by this rule: Put it under lime, and let it lie for three days, then stretch it, scrape it well on both sides, and dry it, and then stain it with the colors you wish.' To gild their skins we have these directions:Take the red skin and carefully pumice it, and temper it in tepid water, and pour the water on it till it runs off limpid. Stretch it afterwards, and smooth it diligently with clean wood. When it is dry, take the whites of eggs, and smear it therewith thoroughly; when it is dry, sponge it with water, press it, dry it again and polish it; then rub it with a clean skin, and polish it again, and gild it.'

Their methods for preparing gold for their gold writing may be mentioned, as they were in fact so many chemical experiments. One method:- File gold very finely, put it in a mortar, and add the sharpest vinegar; rub it till it becomes black, and then pour it out. Put to it some salt or nitre, and so it will dissolve. So you may write with it, and thus all the metals may be dissolved.'

The gold letters of the Anglo-Saxon MSS. are on a white embossment, which is probably a calcareous preparation. Modern gilding is made on an oil size of yellow ochre, or on a water size of gypsum, or white oxide of lead, or on similar substances. For gilding on paper or parchment, gold powder is now used as much as leaf gold. Our ancestors used both occasionally. Another method of ancient chrysography:- Melt some lead, and frequently immerge it in cold water. Melt gold, and pour that into the same water, and it will become brittle. Then rub the gold filings carefully with quicksilver, and purge it carefully while it is liquid. Before you write, dip the pen in liquid alum, which is best purified by salt and vinegar. Another method:- Take thin plates of gold and silver, rub them in a mortar with Greek salt or nitre till it disappears. Pour on water, and repeat it. Then add salt, and so wash it. When the gold remains even, add a moderate portion of the flowers of copper and bullock's gall; rub them together, and write and burnish the letters, Other methods are mentioned, by which even marble and glass might be gilt. These descriptions are taken by Muratori from a MS. of the ninth century, which contains many other curious receipts on this subject.'

Of their architecture Mr. Turner observes, The arts of life are found to flourish in proportion as their productions are valued and required. When the Anglo-Saxons became converted to Christianity, they wanted monasteries and churches. And this demand for architectural ability would have produced great perfection in the art, if the state of the other arts and sciences had permitted a due cultivation of genius in this; but no single art can attain perfection if

every other be neglected, or if general ignorance enfeeble and darken the mind. Patronage therefore, though it called forth whatever mechanical labor and barbarian taste could fabricate, could not miraculously create taste and regular science. The love of sublimity is more congenial to the rude heroism of infant civilisation, and therefore our ancient architecture often reached to the sublime; but while we admire its vastness, its solidity, and its magnificence, we smile at its irregularities, its discordancies, and its caprice.

The chief peculiarities of the Anglo-Saxon architecture, of which several specimens, though in fragments, exist, are declared to be a want of uniformity of parts, massy columns, semicircular arches, and diagonal mouldings. Of these the two first are common to all the barbarous architecture of Europe. But the semicircular arches and diagonal mouldings seem to have been more peculiar additions to the Saxon building. That the round arches were borrowed from Roman buildings, is the prevailing sentiment. It is at least a fact, that the Saxons must have seen them among the numerous specimens of the imperial architecture which they found in England.

The universal diagonal ornament, or zig-zag moulding, which is a very distinguishing trait of the Saxon architecture, is found disposed in two ways; one with its point projecting outwards, and the other with its point lying so as to follow the lines which circumscribe it, either horizontal, perpendicular, or circular. On this singular ornament an etymological remark may be hazarded, as it may tend to elucidate its origin. The Saxon word used to denote the adorning of a building is gefrætwian, or frætwan; and an ornament is frætew; but frætan signifies to gnaw or to eat; and upon our recollecting that the diagonal ornament of Saxon building is an exact imitation of teeth, we can hardly refrain from supposing that the ornament was an intended imitation of teeth. Frætwm and frætwung, which they used to signify ornament, may be construed fretwork, or teeth-work. The teeth which the Saxon diagonals represent, are, I believe, marine teeth. If so, perhaps they arose from the stinging of teeth of the large sea animals. We will mention a few of the ancient Saxon buildings we meet with, and show how they are described.

In 627 Paulinus built the first Christian church, in Northumbria, of wood; it was afterwards rebuilt on a larger scale, and with stone: he also built a stone church at Lincoln. His church at York was not very skilfully erected: for in less than a century afterwards, Wilfrid found its stony offices half destroyed; its roof was permeable to moisture. It had windows of fine linen cloth, or latticed wood-work; but no glazed casements, and therefore the birds flew in and out, and made nests in it. So Bede says of his church at Lincoln, that though the walls were standing, the roof had fallen down.

foundation. At this period glass-makers were not known among the Saxons. But Benedict had heard of them, and he sent to Gaul for some, to make latticed windows to the porticoes and cænaculum of the church. From those whom he employed the Saxons learned the art.

In the seventh century Cuthbert built a monastery, which is described. From wall to wall it was of four or five perches. The outside was higher than a standing man. The wall was not made of cut stone, or bricks and cement, but of unpolished stones and turf, which they had dug from the spot. Some of the stones four men could hardly lift. The roofs were made of wood and clay.

About 709 Wilfred flourished. He, like many others, had travelled to Rome, and, of course, beheld the most valuable specimens of ancient art. He brought thence some masons and artificers. Though he could not imitate these, he sought to improve the efforts of his countrymen. The church of Paulinus at York he completely repaired. He covered the roof with pure lead, he washed its walls from their dirt, and by glass windows (to use the words of my author), he kept out the birds and rain, and yet admitted light. At Rapon he also erected a church with polished stone, adorned with various columns and porticoes. At Hexham he made a similar building. It was founded deep, and made of polished stones, with many columns and porticoes, adorned with great length and height of walls. It had many windings, both above and below, carried spirally round. It was superior to any edifice on this side of the Alps. "In the inside was a stony pavement, on which a workman fell from a scaffold of enormous height.

In 716 we read of Croyland monastery. The marshy ground would not sustain a stony mass. The king, therefore, had a vast number of piles of oak and alders fixed in the ground, and earth was brought in boats nine miles off to be mingled with the timber and the marsh, to complete the foundation.

In 969 a church was built. The preceding winter was employed in preparing the iron and wooden instruments, and all other necessaries. The most skilful artificers were then brought. The length and breadth of the church were measured out; deep foundations were laid on account of the neighbouring moisture, and they were strengthened by frequent percussions of the rams. While some workmen carried stones, others made cement, and others raised both aloft by a machine with a wheel. Two towers with their tops soon rose, of which the smaller was visible on the west in front of the church. The larger in the middle with four spires, pressed on four columns, connected together by arches passing from one to the other, that they might not separate. It is supposed that many specimens of ancient Saxon architecture yet remain; as part of St. Peter's at Oxford, part of St. Alban's abbey church, Tickencote church, near Stamford in Lincolnshire, the porch on the south side of Shireburn minster, Barfreston church in Kent, Iffley church, and some others. But the works and delineations of professional men must be consulted on this subject.'

4. Of England, from the period of the Norman conquest, until the accession of Henry II.Nothing could exceed the terror of the English upon the news of the defeat and death of Harold. As soon as William passed the Thames at Wallingford, Stigand, the primate, made submissions to him in the name of the clergy; and before he came within sight of London, all the chief nobility, including Edgar Atheling himself, came and submitted to the conqueror. William readily accepted of the crown upon the terms offered him; viz. that he should govern according to the established customs of the country. He could indeed have made what terms he pleased; but, though in reality a conqueror, he chose rather to be thought an elected king. For this reason he was crowned at Westminster, by the archbishop of York, and took the usual oath, that he would protect and defend the church, observe the laws of the realm, and govern the kingdom with impartiality. The English historians complain of the most grievous oppression by William and his Normans. Whether the conqueror willingly gave the English opportunities of rebelling against him, in order to have a pretence for oppressing them afterwards, is uncertain; but the beginning of his reign cannot justly be blamed. The first disgust against his government was excited among the clergy. William could not avoid rewarding those numerous adventurers who had accompanied him in his expedition. He first divided the lands of the English barons who had opposed him, among his Norman barons: but as these were insufficient, he quartered the rest on the rich abbeys, until some other opportunity of providing for them should offer. This last step was highly resented by the clergy. The whole nation was soon after disgusted, by seeing all the real power of the kingdom placed in the hands of the Normans. The king disarmed the city of London, and other places which appeared most warlike and populous, and quartered Norman soldiers wherever he dreaded an insurrection. Having thus secured England, as he imagined, from any danger of a revolt, he determined to pay a visit to his Norman dominions. His brother Odo, bishop of Bayeux, and William Fitz-Osborne, were appointed regents in his absence; and to secure himself yet farther, he resolved to carry along with him those of the English nobility in whom he had least confidence. William set sail for Normandy in March, 1067; but his absence produced the most fatal consequences. Discontents and murmurings were every where multiplied; secret conspiracies were entered into; hostilities were commenced in many places; and every thing seemed to threaten a speedy revolution. William of Poictiers, a Norman historian, throws the blame entirely on the English. He calls them a fickle and mutinous race, while he celebrates with the highest encomiums the justice and lenity of Odo's and FitzOsborne's administration. On the other hand, the English historians tell us, that the regents took all opportunities of oppressing the people, with a View to provoke them to rebellion, and to enrich themselves on their submission. Be this as it may, a secret conspiracy was formed among the English for a general massacre of the

Normans, and the vassals of the earl of Coxo actually put him to death because he refused to head them in the enterprise. The conspirators had already taken their final resolution, and fixed on Ash Wednesday, during the time of divine service, for the intended massacre. But the sudden return of William disconcerted all their schemes. Having received intelligence of their bloody purpose, he hastened to England. Such of the conspirators as had been more open in the scheme fled, and this confirmed the accusation against those who remained. William from this period not only lost all confidence in his English subjects, but regarded them as irreconcileable enemies. He raised a vast number of fortresses in the country, until he no longer dreaded the tumultuous efforts of the multitude: and determined to treat the whole as a cor quered nation. One of his most decided steps of this kind was the revival of the tax of Dangelt, which produced great discontents. The inhabitants of Exeter and Cornwall revolted; but were soon reduced. A more dangerous rebellion broke out in the north; but this was also quashed, and the English became sensible that farther resistance was vain. Their easy submission after the battle of Hastings had inspired the Normans with contempt; their commotions afterwards had rendered them objects of hatred; and they were now deprived of every means which could make them either feared or beloved. Many fled into foreign countries; and among the rest Edgar Atheling, who made his escape to Scotland, with his two sisters, Margaret and Christina. They were well received by Malcolm III., who soon after married Margaret, and received a great number of other exiles with kindness. The people at large, though unable to make any open resistance, did not fail to gratify their resentment against the Normans privately. Seldom a day passed, but the bodies of their assassinated conquerors were found in the woods and high-ways, without any possibility of bringing the authors of their death to justice. This made the Normans themselves begin to wish for tranquillity and security and several of those entrusted with great commands, desired to be dismissed from the service of the crown. William was obliged to allure many to his service by the largeness of his bounties. The consequences were, fresh exactions from the English, and new insurrections on their part against their masters. The Norman power, however, was too well founded to be finally shaken, and every attempt of the English to regain their liberty served only to rivet their chains. The county of Northumberland, which had been most active in these insurrections, now suffered most severely The whole of it was laid waste, the houses were burned, the instruments of agriculture destroyed, and the inhabitants dispersed. On this ocasion it is said that above 100,000 persons perished either by the sword or famine. The estates of the English gentry were next confiscated, and bestowed on the Normans. Thus most of the ancient and honorable families were reduced to ruin, and the English found themselves totally excluded from honors and preferments. William thus at last broke their spirit and received no

forward, and bruised on the pommel of the saddle. Being advanced in years, he felt apprehensive of the consequences, and ordered himself to be carried in a litter to the monastery of St. Gervaise. Here his illness increased; and, becoming sensible of the approach of death, he discovered great remorse on the review of his life, and endeavoured to make compensation by presents to churches and monasteries. He also gave orders for the liberation of several English noblemen, and was prevailed upon to restore his brother Odo, against whom he was much incensed. He left Normandy and Maine to his eldest son Robert. He wrote to Lanfranc, the primate, to crown William king of England. To Henry he bequeathed nothing but the possessions of his mother Matilda; but foretold, that one day he would surpass both his brothers in power and opulence. He expired on the 9th of September 1087, in the sixty-third year of his age, in the twenty-first of his reign over England, and fiftyfourth over that of Normandy.

:

The character of William I., given by the Saxon Chronicler, is striking. If any one wish to know what manner of man he was, or what worship he had, or of how many lands he was lord, we will describe him as we have known him: for we looked on him, and some while lived in his herd. King William was a very wise man and very rich, more worshipful and strong than any of his fore-gangers. He was mild to good men, who loved God and slack, beyond all bounds, to those who withsaid his will.-He had earls in his bond, who had done against his will: bishops he set off their bishoprics: abbots off their abbotries: and thanes in prisons: and at last he did not spare his own brother Odo. Him he set in prison. Yet among other things we must not forget the good frith (peace) which he made in this land so that a man, that was good for ought, might travel over the kingdom with his bosom full of gold without molestation: and no man durst slay another man, though he suffered never so mickle evil from the other. He ruled over England: and by his cunning he was so thoroughly acquainted with it, that there is not a hide of land, of which he did not know both who had it and what it was worth: and that he set down in his writings.-But he also set many deer-friths and he made laws therewith that whoever should slay hart or hind, him man should blind.' 'His countenance,' says Dr. Lingard, 'wore an air of ferocity, which, when he was agitated by passion, struck terror into every beholder. The story told of his strength at one period of his life, almost exceeds belief. It is said that sitting on horseback he could draw the string of a bow, which no other man could beud even on foot. Hunting formed his favorite amusement.' The reader has seen the censure passed upon him for his deer-friths, and gamelaws: nor will he think it undeserved, if he remember the circumstance already named of afforesting so much of Hampshire. The memory of this act of despotism has been perpetuated in the name of the New Forest, which it retains at the present after the lapse of 750 years.

William, surnamed Rufus, from his red hair, was in Normandy at the time of his father's

death. He no sooner received the letter from Lanfranc, than he set out for England; where he arrived before the news of that event. Sensible that his brother Robert had a preferable title, he used the utmost despatch in getting himself crowned and established on the throne. The English were so effectually subdued, that they made no opposition, but the Norman barons were attiched to Robert, who was brave, open, and generous. Even his predominant fault of indolence was not disagreeable to those haughty nobles, who affected an almost total independence of their sovereign. William, on the other hand, was violent, haughty, and tyrannical. A strong conspiracy therefore arose against him; and Odo bishop of Bayeux, undertook to conduct it. Many of the most powerful nobility were concerned; and, as the confederates expected large succours from Normandy, they retired to their castles, and put themselves in an offensive posture. William, sensible of his danger, endeavoured to engage the English on his side, by promising the mitigation of their hardships. Robert, in the mean time, through his natural indolence, neglected to give his allies proper assistance. The conspirators were obliged to submit. Some of them were pardoned but most of them fined and their estates bestowed on the barons who had continued faithful to the king. William, freed from this danger, thought no more of his promises to the English. He proved a greater tyrant than his father; and after the death of Lanfranc, who had been his preceptor, and kept him within some bounds, he gave full scope to his rapacity. Not content with oppressing the laity, he invaded the privileges of the church; which in those days were held most sacred. He seized the temporalities of the vacant bishoprics and abbeys, and openly put up many of them to sale. These proceedings occasioned great murmurs, but the terror of his authority for a while preserved tranquillity. In 1090 the king thought himself strong enough to attempt the conquest of Normandy, which at that time was in the greatest confasion through the careless administration of Robert. Several of the barons had revolted, and were encouraged by the king of France. Robert also imagined he had reason to fear the intrigues of his brother Henry, whom for 3000 merks he had put in possession of Cottentin, nearly a third part of the duchy. He therefore threw him into prison; but when he found himself threatened with an invasion from William he gave Henry his liberty, and made use of his assistance in suppressing the insurrections of his subjects. But William was no sooner landed in Normandy, than the nobility on both sides interposed, and a treaty of peace was concluded. In this treaty Henry, finding his interests entirely neglected, suddenly retired to St. Michael's Mount, a strong fortress on the coast of Normandy, and infested the neighbourhood with his incursions. He was besieged by his two brothers, and obliged to capitulate; after which, being deprived of all his dominions, he wandered about for some time in great poverty. The peace between his brothers, however, was of short duration. Hostilities had occurred between England and Scotland, and these terminated in