With her babes, on England's throne. Come to try thee MR. URBAN, May. ALLUDING to E. I. C.'s request (in your Minor Correspondence of February last) for information as to the situation of those places in monasteries appropriated to "outward confession," I am of opinion that a certain small aperture, now walled up, but formerly communicating from the cemetery through the lower part of the chancel wall of Hurley Priory church, and those low-silled windows often found near the western end of chancels-were the places for that "confession of all comers' denominated by Bedyll "uttward," (from the circumstance of the penitent being placed outside the church during confession,) to distinguish them from places more within the church or monastery where the priesthood privately confessed to one another, as your correspondent J.R. states. Hagioscopes, as we now term them, were also I think confessionals, although perhaps not what Bedyll would have called uttward confessionals. At Lenham, in Kent, attached to the southern side of the chancel, is a handsome stone arm-chair, having at its western side a low step-like base, as if for a person to kneel on at confession, and there is something like it in the northern porch of Redcliff church, Bristol. A reverend friend has just informed me that at about four feet from the ground, through the lower part of the southern wall of the chancel at Coombe in Sussex, was a circular hole, about eighteen inches in diameter, having splayed sides, and apparently coeval with the old wall, but certainly not made for a window, and therefore probably a confessional. In paper read to the Oxford Architectural Society, last May, it was stated that" on both sides of Garsington chancel, under the westernmost windows, are low side openings which retain the old iron work, and have evidently been glazed, though long blocked up within." At the outside of the northern wall *Noticed by Plantagenet in our Magazine for March, 1839. G of the tower of Trumpington Church is a recess, having its base level with the ground, about 6 feet high, and 1 feet wide and deep, and at the back of which is a loop-hole, now closed up, but once communicating with the inside of the tower. And in St. Michael's church at Cambridge I lately saw at the back of the central sedile a small loop-hole, now glazed, but formerly opening into the eastern part of the south aisle. This hole is about 4 feet from the pavement of the aisle, but there are no remains of any step for the penitent to kneel on, as at Lenham. In Elsfield church, Oxon, is a low side window now walled up, at the inside of which is an original stone seat; and I believe there is something like a confessional in Gloucester cathedral-not to mention the socalled confessionals enumerated in the tenth volume of the Archæologia. Confessionals are not necessarily closed like those wooden latticed closets now commonly used on the continent; for I once saw on a hot Sunday in Bavaria a priest seated in the church-yard receiving the confessions of his parishioners, as they one by one reverentially passed him. The term "uttward" may also have been used in contradistinction to certain small chambers, probably sacristies, behind the altar, such as exist at Crewkerne and Hensdridge, in Somersetshire, and which have two doors, one for the entry, and one for the exit of penitents; each with an appropriate symbol and inscription over it. Outward Confessionals-originally I presume in the porch or galilee-are now only permitted to be in the nave or other generally accessible parts of the church; and I much doubt whether we ought to infer, as E. I. C. would seem to do, from Bedyll's use of the term outward, that any other kind of confessionals existed, (except for the priesthood as above mentioned,) and more especially since such must in Bedyll's opinion have, "a fortiori," been more objectionable than open confessionals. Yours, &c. PLANTAGENET. Mr. Dyce's Remarks on Collier's and Knight's Editions of Shakespeare. MR. URBAN, MR. DYCE has accumulated so many proofs of the absurd incompetency of these two editors of Shakespeare that very little is left for any one else to say; and even that little may possibly have been rejected already by Mr. Dyce, along with the other notes, which want of room has (most unfortunately) compelled him to omit. I must venture, however, to contribute my mite. There are two cases in which Shakespeare appears to have had reference to the works of others, which certainly merit mention among the many quotations of that description which have been brought together by his various editors. 1. In The Merry Wives of Windsor, the jest of Pistol, "Then did the sun on dunghill shine," is a caricature of a line in Robert Southwell's S. Peter's Complaint (1595) "As spotlesse sunne doth on the dunghill shine" (p. 15, ed. 1599). It is possible that an expression in Fletcher's Queen of Corinth (Works, vol. v. p. 438, ed. Dyce) may be an imitation from Shakespeare; but it seems far more certain that Shakespeare himself was, in this passage, unconsciously joining Bp. Hall in throwing unmerited ridicule on Southwell. 2. In As you Like it, the line "Sans teeth, sans eyes," &c. is copied from Garnier's Henriade, 1594. See Censura Literaria, ix. p. 337, second edit. As Mr. Dyce (p. 107) has taken the trouble to set Mr. Collier right about the meaning of "Lady, my brach,” I wonder that he did not give him a hint on "Ay, Sir Tyke, who more bold?" (Collier, vol. i. p. 258.) Mr. Collier's note,-"Falstaff calls simple Sir,' and then corrects himself in order to give him a derogatory appellation," &c. is one of the most entertaining pieces of folly I ever read. Mr. Collier's life of Shakespeare is left untouched. But fairness is so great a virtue, that I heartily wish some one would give him a little advice on the proper way of treating former editors and biographers. Any one who compares his remarks on pp. lxix. and cxix. with the original passages in Malone's Shakespeare, by Boswell, vol. ii. pp. 63 and 169, (as well as 168,) will fully understand what I mean. But Mr. Collier is so systematic in his blunders, when he has occasion to give a reference to Malone, that one can scarcely help suspecting him of a desire to avoid comparisons. Thus, on p. lxxvii. he refers to "ii. 90,” meaning ii. 95; on p. xci. he refers to "ii. 266,” meaning ii. 566, as he elsewhere gives it rightly (viz. on pp.clxiii. and ccxi.); on p. clxxxii. he refers to "ii. 585," meaning ii. 485; and on p. cclxvii. he refers to "i. 601,” meaning ii. 601. Of course all these (and many like them) may be mere misprints, just as in his note on p. lxvii. "Mary Arden" is a misprint for "Agnes Arden;" but, if so, what becomes of Mr. Collier's character for correctness? or how can we trust him where we cannot trace him, if he is found to be so unsafe a guide where we can? Mr. Dyce (p. 294) has referred to one emendation (!) in Mr. Collier's reprint of Armin's Nest of Ninnies. Let me call your attention to another; on p. 7, line 23, of the reprint, we read, "loude of any," i. e. of course "loved of any." Mr. Collier (p. 58) suspects a misprint; otherwise he would ex " I will just add that another instance of the misprint, "away" for "awry,' mentioned by Mr. Dyce, p. 212, may be found in Davison's Poeticall Rhapsodie, p. 301, ed. Nicolas, where Sir Egerton Brydges (vol. i. p. 118) had silently corrected it; and that a specimen of another misprint, also mentioned by Mr. Dyce, p. 220, that of "yet" for "yt" or "it," occurs in the Appendix to Laud's Troubles and Tryal, p. 561, where it has been lately remarked that " yet being his first visitation" is a misprint for "it being," &c. Yours, &c. A COUNTRY PARSON. When will Mr. Dyce give us an edition which may hereafter be regarded as the textus receptus of Shakespeare? RETROSPECTIVE REVIEW. Salt upon Salt. By George Withers, Esq. 1659. Withers mentions the rule of his own obedience to the government. The principle I own is to adhere To that power which supremacy doth bear, And, whether he comes in by right or wrong, To him what I may fear he knows too well, If not, yet, when my duty I have done, I have preserved this rule inviolate, Though some think not; when one power was made two, For, so far as my conscience would permit, I served that power which in the throne did sit I did accordingly employ my force To keep what might be naught from being worse, I did so far forth as it would consist With God's praise, with the public interest, All these obstructions to remove away, Have made his dangers and our mischiefs more, &c. After enlarging on the interment and obsequies of Cromwell, which is the chief subject of his poem, and animadverting with censure on its magnificence, the author proceeds, (p. 18,) Philip of Spain, the second (as 'tis sayd), Did of a funeral pageant thus arrayd, A patern leave; which is resembled much By this; one circumstance, and some few such For Pater-Nosters they should there have said, If they that ceremonie had observed We are already drawing very nigh To superstitions and idolatrie, And at the back door that is coming in Which at the fore door hath expelled bin. Who would have thought that we who do neglect One of the goodliest piles of architect In all the Christian world, because long since It seemed profane, by things which gave offence, And with exploded vanities defile The palaces and temples of the isle ? In pulling down of crosses, painted glass, Old altars, images of saints and kings, Who can believe that he who vilifide Should thither with more vain pomps be attended Than any English prince that heretofore A soveraign sceptre in these islands bore? He then speaks of the offence given by this pomp of funeral rites, and of the consequences that may follow; and, alluding to the storm which was the subject of so much attention, anxiety, and remark, he says, it is the storm of God's anger and punishment that he most fears and anticipates, from the vices, flatteries, and avarice of the times. God hath made known to us in some measure, The earth which bears us too, for our offences The heavens withdraw. Death, when unlooked for, seizes More oft than formerly by new diseases, And they to give accompt are called upon * * But hear me further, and relate I shall With those bones whereupon our gallants rode, Those leggs likewise which are our second strength, With such success as they were wont to do. Sone whose new honours bloomed but last spring An bition is, and let them understand Who flourish yet, their winter is at hand. |