among which conspicuously appears the placid but intelligent countenance of him to whom these pages relate. But who, seeing the cathedral, still in its solemn and venerable splendour, uplifting its grey battlements, uninjured by time or vicissitudes — having escaped the havoc of the day of fanatical puritanism - with each statue unmutilated in its niche and who, afterwards pensively pacing this gallery of distinguished characters, from Bishop Still to the present possessor, and contemplates, at the same time, the desolation of the most ancient and most august of the edifices of monastic Rome, now prostrate and in dust-can fail to think he hears the voice of God"I AM AGAINST THEE, because thou hast left thy first love!"* The thought is, indeed, obvious. The feelings of the poet have been already expressed on the subject, in the interesting Records of Glastonbury Abbey, by my valued friend Mr. Warner. In excuse for occasional verse-variations in the narrative, let the reader remember it is not always that versemen write prose! I have therefore sought variety, and hope I may have given some additional interest, by occasional poetical interspersions, par * Revelations, chap. ii. v. 4. + What splendid exceptions, in the present day, are Southey, Scott, Moore, and Wilson! and let me add my most respected friend, if I may not say relative, Caroline Bowles. ticularly when the sentiments poetically expressed may be thought more impressive. No one can see the fine cathedral at Wells, and hear the pealing anthem within, and remark those singular relics of monkish ingenuity, the clock, and the bell-man striking the hours,* without thinking on the different fates of Glastonbury Abbey, in its desolation, and this beautiful cathedral. With these lines, now corrected, I conclude this chapter of the Life of Bishop Ken, the once honoured possessor of this episcopal palace. GLASTONBURY ABBEY AND WELLS CATHEDRAL. Glory and boast of Avalon's fair vale, How beautiful thy ancient turrets rose, Or more majestic in the eve's repose, With richer hues, when the west window glows, Came sounding on the airs of that still tide, When thro' the glimmering aisle faint AVE-MARY'S died! But all is desert now!‡ silent the bell That heard, at dawn, from yon sole turret high, * The clock and bell-man, called Blandifer, were transferred from Glastonbury. † Insula Avalonia was surrounded at that time by water. What an affecting description of the deserted Nunnery is that of Markham's, in the Quadragesimalia: Pallentes nocturna ciens campana sorores, Hinc matutinam sæpe monebit avem. Silent the Virgin's Hymn-the Litany, As if to mourn the shrines long rent away, And e'en the hallow'd tomb where BRITAIN'S ARTHUR lay.* And such is Glastonbury!-what of Wells? + And Heav'n the venerable pile shall spare, * See Warton's beautiful poem, "King Arthur's Grave!" "When he fell, with winged speed His champions, on a milk-white steed, Bore him to Joseph's tower'd fane, In the fair vale of Avalon There, with chaunted orison, And the long blaze of tapers clear, The stoled Fathers met the bier." ↑ The Palace and Hall at Wells are thus described by that antique but faithful topographer, Leland: "On the south side of this area is the Bishop's Palace, dichid brodely, and watered about by the water of St. Andre. This palace is strongely waulled, and embateled, castelle-lyke. The Haul of the Palace is exceeding faire." This magnificent Hall was built by Bishop Burnell. It has remained unroofed since the reign of Edward the Sixth. CHAPTER VIII. CONDUCT TO THE FUGITIVE SOLDIERS AFTER THE BATTLE OF -ACCOUNT OF THE FLIGHT SEDGEMOOR-SEDGEMOOR OF THE DUKE OF MONMOUTH-KEN ON HIS SCAFFOLD -EXECUTION-OPEN DESIGNS OF KING JAMES. "For tho' it could its King forget, 'T was true and faithful still to her." BALLAD. THE situation of a faithful Bishop of the Church is that of an anxious watchman on the towers of Sion. At every period, either in the night of ignorance -or exposed to the storms of superstitious or fanatic persecution-or when open infidelity, like an armed man, advances and cries, "Down with her battlements, for they are not the Lord's!"— the post of the ETIσкOTOS is most conspicuous, and to him who, like Ken, reflects on the awful responsibility, most arduous. "WATCHMAN, WHAT OF THE NIGHT?" the Christian might anxiously ask, when the destinies of the civilized world seem trembling on every side, and the darkness and danger of the hour increases. Puritanic fanaticism, before Ken was on the watchtower, had passed by like a cowed lion:- yet in high places, equally averse to the Church of England, appeared "Dira Superstitio, Terribili super aspectu mortalibus instans." * * Lucretius. When Ken stood on the watch-tower, for a few years, he was as vigilant as resolute. In the mean time, the points of episcopal concern in his diocese, which more especially called on his superintending care, were these "to lay hands suddenly on no man"-to encourage and prefer, as far as his ampler means extended, learning and scriptural piety. We shall see how far these and other peculiar objects of his paternal and pastoral care were in his heart, both whilst the transient crozier was in his hand, and when his last sands were ebbing. We have followed the life of the blameless Ken, as it appeared at Winchester, in Holland, at the death-scene of his libertine and imperial patron, and in his diocese. In the midst of these pastoral solicitudes and active duties, the rebellion of the Duke of Monmouth broke out (1685), only one year after his entrance on this new scene of spiritual cares. The hopes of this ill-advised and unfortunate youth were scattered by the issue of the battle of Sedgemoor, and he was abandoned to his fate. The episcopal palace was within a day's distance of the disastrous scene. Hundreds of fugitive soldiers sought for refuge and protection, every day. Bishop Ken received them with charity, in his palace-gates, reckless whom he offended. He prayed to them-he exhorted them he fed them. Now it will be recollected that the poor old widow Lisle, for only concealing |