through the doorway of the close oaken wainscot which separates the vestry from the south aisle.

The east window of the north aisle, known as the Hulton window, from its having been put up at the cost of a gentleman of that name resident in the neighbourhood, has illustrations of the Adoration and the Transfigura tion. Amid the variegated tracery which adds to the expression of this window are also noticeable the heraldic bearings and name of the generous-minded donor, by whom, together with a full, handsome silver gilt service of plate for the altar, it was offered as a further enrichment to the

church.

The adjoining window on the north side of the same aisle is, from the name of its donor, likewise a gentleman resident in the vicinage, called the Spedding window, and engages attention for the gracefulness of its drawing, and the chaste richness of its colouring, It is of three lights: the first is adorned with the figure of the Virgin Mary, holding her emblem, the lily, in one hand, and a bible in the other, with this text at her feet: "Ecce ex hoc beatam me vocant omnes generationes;" the second light has the Saviour of the world, bearing the sceptre and the globe, surmounted by a cross, with this sentence underneath: "Ego sum resurrectio et vita;" and in the third light is Saint John, with the eagle and a reed in his hands, and the words "Ecce filius tuus" at his feet. Beneath the figure of the Saviour is a circle, bearing on its outer rim an inscription, setting forth by whose generosity this handsome and im

pressive addition to the fenestral decoration of the hallowed fane was given.

The sixth or remaining stained glass window, called "The Memorial Window," is the second from the east end of the south aisle. It was put up at the charge of the parishioners, as a testimonial to perpetuate their grateful appreciation of the liberality and estimable qualities of the restorer of the church; and the story its pictorial imagery tells, is by the subscribers felt to be not less truthfully applicable than worthily merited. The window is of three lights, each adorned with two subjects taken from the sacred page. Those in the first light are illustrative of the following sentences in Matthew, chap. xxv. 35: "I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink." The second light displays subjects from the same Evangelist, verses 35, 36 of the same chapter: "I was a stranger, and ye took me in; I was naked, and ye clothed me ;"—and in the third light are illustrations from the same chapter and verse: "I was sick, and ye visited me; I was in prison, and ye came unto me." Running underneath the whole, the following text from the same inspired writer, verse 40,—“ Verily I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me,"-forms a significant and fully acknowledged enumeration of the virtues and benevolent disposition of the individual to whose honour this window was set up. Affixed on the ledge of the window beneath is a brass tablet, on which the following record is engraved :

own affecting expression, under the soul-touching truth "that they who are wise unto salvation know feelingly when they have done best that their best works are worth nothing." With a reverence therefore for intellectual greatness, especially when devoted, as its mighty powers ever were, to the advantage and instruction of mankind, Mr. Stanger was further desirous that an appropriate memorial should be placed inside the church, to perpetuate the resemblance of one to whom we owe so much, and who, as characterized in the heartfelt panegyric of one of his noble admirers, was so 66 splendid an instance of a poet, a philosopher, an historian, and even a statesman, chastened and yet elevated by the spirit of the gospel." This, it was especially felt, would be a dignified tribute of regard in the place where his genius, by giving to the things and objects around an interest beyond their own, had sanctified the locality in the associations of his sympathetic and admiring fellow-countrymen. With this object a subscription was opened for the purpose of defraying the cost at the estimated expense of 4007. in Caen stone of a tomb and effigy. Subsequently, however, it was decided upon that the figure should be sculptured in the beautiful though more costly material of Carrara marble, at the increased charge of 1,1007. A numerous list of subscribers, (whose subscriptions, however, being far from sufficient to cover the entire expense of the monument, have left a considerable deficit, which, it is understood, will fall upon the munificent restorer of the church,) anxious to mark their sense of the genius and virtues of the man, having been obtained, the execution of the memorial was confided to the celebrated sculptor Mr. Lough, whose liberality of feeling, under the circumstances, has entitled him to no little applause, and from his hand has thus proceeded the monument of one who occupies so prominent a place in the history of the literature of his

country. The situation selected for it is in the south aisle of the chancel, opposite the door, and close to the oaken screen which separates the chancel from its southern aisle. The altar tomb is of Caen stone, the sides of which are divided into five square compartments or panels. Four of these have their centres enriched with carved leaves of different kinds, surrounded by double foliated circles, and the corners of each panel are likewise decorated with ornaments of the same description on a smaller scale. The centre of the middle panel alone displays a vacant shield, intended for the armorial escutcheon of the deceased, and the ends of the tomb, devoid of other embellishment, are filled only with the inscription and lines hereafter recorded. On the top reclines upon a couch, the head and shoulders supported on double tasseled cushions, the full-length effigy, clad in academic robes, of the late laureate. The left hand rests upon the bosom, and the face, turned towards the spectator, wears an expression of meditation, as if musing on the contents of the open volume, which, in the intensity of mental abstraction, has, together with the hand that held it, dropped listlessly by the side. The position best adapted for viewing the figure is in the first seat next the wall, on the left-hand side after passing the chancel door. From thence, in the judgment of those relatives and friends by whom he was most intimately known, the features and character of expression are beheld with the most truthful effect, and this is especially the case when the lowarched door that leads into the aisle is opened, and a ray from the sun, streaming in upon the gloom, casts a brilliancy across the chancel and its aisles, and, bringing into bold distinctness and relief the prominent lineaments of the face and figure, a picture is displayed, which for concentrated beauty and effect is eminently affecting. The west end of the tomb bears this inscription:

with his son-in-law, Mr. Quillinan, stood in sorrow by the grave of their brother poet in the north side of the cemetery.

During the celebration of that portion of the funeral service which is appointed to be read at the grave one of those trivial yet moving incidents occurred which fall with such creative effect upon a feeling and poetic mind. It was wild and dreary weather in the early spring, before the trees had yet ventured to shew their tender leaflets, or the heather on the tall fells to protrude its first green tufts above their crests of snow. All was bleak, and chill, and desolate, as the hearts of the mourners who drooped in sadness above the minstrel's bier. The day, both before and after the obsequies, was full of gloom and tempest, yet, during that part of the solemn rites alluded to, the storm seemed suddenly to lull, and die away in sobs of fitful quietude. The rain ceased to beat, the clouds to threaten, and a deep stillness fell over the whole scene. A cheering ray of sunshine struggled through the murky atmosphere, and two small birds perched upon a tree which then overhung the retired corner selected for the last house of mortality, unscared by the presence of the sor

rowing train, warbled with tiny pipe their "wood-notes wild." The requiem of genius thus chanted by those

blossoms of the air," as some sweet bard has so poetically called them in his own melodious strain, was a fact every way too graceful in sentiment for the imagination of a poet to overlook, and it consequently gave occasion to some verses by Mr. Quillinan, which, it is to be regretted, the limits assigned to this paper preclude introducing here.

When "all the work that had entered into the heart to make for the house of the Lord was so ended," the church, displaying more than the beauty of its early days, was rendered not only worthy to rank among the most splendidly restored monuments of ecclesiastical antiquity in Cumberland, but a more suitable temple for the public worship of Him who inhabiteth eternity, than the dilapidated structure from which it had arisen.

Having been in all things completed, and rendered a lasting memorial of the zeal and piety of its restorer, a plate of brass, commemorative of the under

taking, was affixed into the third pier in the south aisle, on which is engraved the following record :—

"On the 22nd day of June, 1844, a faculty was granted in the consistory court at Carlisle to the Rev. James Lynn, vicar of Crosthwaite, and James Stanger, of Lairthwaite, esquire, for the restoration of the chancel, the roof, and other portions of this church, according to certain plans thereof exhibited, and for the erection of a tomb and sculptured monumental figure of the late Robert Southey, poet laureate, in accordance with which faculty these restorations were completed under the direction of George Gilbert Scott, architect, and the church was re-opened for divine service on the 3rd day of August, 1845, and the monument erected A.D. 1846."

To a grave and recondite antiquary, this description of Crosthwaite church, and the objects of interest connected with it, will appear deficient in that fulness of information which a sedulous research through our national and diocesan archives alone can unfold. It is briefly mentioned in some of those valuable records whose pages illustrate the annals of our older churches. As such documentary evidences however, besides lying beyond the opportunities for research of the writer of these pages, are chiefly of a statistical and financial nature, which, though useful in themselves, would swell this sketch beyond reasonable limits, they are omitted without more than this concise allusion to their existence.

The vicarage house, seated upon an eminence between the church and the town, commands that beautiful view of the Lake of Derwentwater, and the surrounding mountain scenery, with which the poet Gray, who visited this country in 1769, was so much enraptured. "From hence," says he, in those delightful letters which were the medium of giving to his fellow-countrymen the first familiar account of the romantic loveliness of a region then so little frequented, "I got to the parsonage a little before sunset, and saw a picture, which if I could transmit to you, and fix it in all the softness of its living colours, would fairly sell for one thousand pounds." The point of view from which Gray beheld this fasci

nating prospect was from the horsing stone which then and for long after stood without the right hand side of the garden gate, in front of the house. It was removed several years ago, much to the regret of Mr. Southey, who used often playfully to reflect on the little sympathetic feeling shown in the destruction of a memorial so intimately associated with the author of "The Elegy."

As this memoir of the venerable parish church of Crosthwaite was in the commencement graced with a quotation from one of the most instructive works of that eminent writer whose spirit pervades the scene, and every spot on which the eye can rest is vocal with the associations of his life, so it cannot be more fitly concluded than with another extract borrowed from the same delightful book, after which, it would be sacrilege to add one word more. "I was walking alone in Howrah looking upon the church and upon Skiddaw behind it, which was then in all the glory of a Midsummer sunset. The weight of time and eternity was on my spirit; I had been also thinking of the change in human institutions, a thought naturally connected with any permanent monuments of nature or art. The shadows glide over that mountain, and the clouds collect there, and the sun glorifies it, as they did when the Druids performed their rites within yonder circle of stones, when the Romans and romanised Britons erected altars to Jupiter and Belatucadrus, and when the Danes offered up victims to Thor and Woden. The church too has undergone its changes. The roodloft has disappeared; not a bell rings on Saint Kentigern's Day, and not a trace of the saint remains in his own parish. I was contemplating that church and yonder mountain. Seven centuries have gone by since the church was founded; and there Skiddaw has stood since the foundations of the hills were laid. My years will presently be like a tale that is told. These will remain; the one unchangeable, the other, I trust, never to be changed in its destination and uses, whatever renovations the structure may require."