we dismiss this part of our subject. "In the daily eating this was the custom: the steward, with the servants that were gentlemen of the better rank, sat down at the tables in the hall on the right hand; and the almoner, with the clergy and the other servants, sat on the other side, where there was plenty of all sorts of provision, both for eating and drinking. The daily fragments thereof did suffice to fill the bellies of a great number of poor hungry people that waited at the gate; and so constant and unfailing was this provision at my Lord's table, that whosoever came in either at dinner or supper, being not above the degree of a knight, might here be entertained worthy of his quality, either at the steward's or almoner's table. And moreover, it was the Archbishop's command to his servants, that all strangers should be received and treated with all manner of civility and respect, and that places at the table should be assigned them according to their dignity and quality, which redounded much to the praise and commendation of the Archbishop. The discourse and conversation at meals was void of all brawls and loud talking, and for the most part consisted in framing men's manners to religion, or to some other honest and beseeming subject. There was a monitor of the hall; and if it happened that any spoke too loud, or concerning things less decent, it was presently hushed by one that cried Silence. The Archbishop loved hospitality, and no man showed it so much, or with better order, though he himself was very abstemious."

The hall now affords food and hospitality of another kind: it is used as the library of the palace. Along the walls on each side are projecting bookcases, containing some thirty or thirty-five thousand volumes, valuable chiefly for their works on controversial divinity, though not deficient of those belonging to general literature. Persons properly introduced are allowed to borrow from these extensive stores—a circumstance too honourable to the liberality of their owner to be overlooked. The history of this library is somewhat curious. It was formed by Archbishop Bancroft, who, dying in 1610, left "unto his successors the Archbishops of Canterbury for ever a great and famous library of books of divinity, and of many other sorts of learning." Security was to be given for its preservation to the see, by his successors, in failure of which the whole was to be given to Chelsea College, if erected within the next six years after his death (which it was not), and otherwise to the University of Cambridge. On the execution of Laud, in 1644, Selden, fearing for the preservation of the books in such troubled times (already they were in process of dispersion, having been first granted for the use of Dr. Wincocke, then given to Sion College, and many lent to private individuals), wisely suggested to the University to claim them, which it did with success in 1649. On the Restoration, Juxon demanded their return; but it was not until the time of his successor, Sheldon, who repeated the demand, that it was acceded to. An ordinance of parliament had then also to be obtained, to enforce the restoration of the books in private hands; among others, in the hands of John Thurloe and Hugh Peters. Bancroft's original gift was increased by donations, bequests, or purchases of the books of Abbot, Laud, Sheldon, Tenison, Secker, and Cornwallis, which are respectively known by their arms on the covers.

Between the little porch and the great hall is a kind of vestibule, with a staircase leading to the gallery and Guard-room. The gallery is modern, elegant,

and admirably lighted by square lanterns in the ceiling, occurring at intervals along its course. The pictures are chiefly portraits of bishops, including those of Warren, by Gainsborough (unfinished); Burnet; Hough and Loyd, both of whom opposed themselves to the despotic acts of James II.; and Hoadly. The gallery also contains a portrait of the accomplished son of James I., Prince Henry, whose premature death so much excited the sensibilities of the English nation; another, of Catherine Parr, most richly painted and gilded; and a picture, one of the most interesting in the collection, of Luther and his wife, supposed to be the work of Holbein. He has one arm round her neck, and with the hand of the other he holds one of her hands. The expression of the faces is very fine, and the whole so beautifully painted as to leave little doubt but that it is attributed to the proper artist. At all events, we learn that it has always been treasured at the palace as a most valuable work. From the gallery a door leads us into one of the most interesting parts of the palace, the Guard-room, which is also one of the most beautiful chambers we have ever had the good fortune Our readers may in some measure judge for themselves whether the room here shown does not deserve the utmost praise that can be bestowed on it.

to see.

It is very old, for we find it mentioned in the steward's accounts of the time of Henry VI.; and it was a restoration of a former Guard-room. The arms kept here passed, by purchase, from one Archbishop to another. When our readers have gazed sufficiently long upon the fine proportions and most beautiful roof of this room, we would call their attention to the line of portraits extending round the walls, comprising an unbroken series of the Archbishops, from the time of Warham to that of Sutton, the present Archbishop's predecessor, with portraits of one or two others of a still earlier date. What a host of associations rise to the mind as we look upon these suggestive memorials! There are few of our greatest historical events in which some or other of these men have not had an important share. Indeed, a very agreeable-and not remarkably incomplete-History of England would be composed by one who, walking round this room, should pour forth from

the stores of an abundant knowledge all the thoughts and memories that the sight of these silent but most expressive portraits naturally produce. Our notices must be of a less ambitious character.

Among the Archbishops whose portraits are wanting in this valuable collection, there are some who must not be passed without notice. The famous Cardinal Langton, for instance, who extensively repaired the palace; and Sudbury, who was beheaded during the insurrection of Wat Tyler, under such peculiarly cruel circumstances, in the Tower: two days before the insurgents had burned the furniture and all the records and books in the palace. One of the many interesting memories of the place is referred to the time of Archbishop Sudbury, when the most illustrious of our early Reformers, Wickliffe, himself appeared to defend his tenets within the precincts of Lambeth Palace. The following account is from his biographer, Lewis, whose authority was Walsingham. It must be premised that Wickliffe had previously been cited to St. Paul's, whither he went attended by the all-powerful John of Gaunt, his protector, of course to the very great dissatisfaction of the ecclesiastical authorities, among whom were some delegates from the Pope expressly commissioned to inquire into the matter. A new, and what was intended should be a more private council, was therefore held in the Archbishop's Chapel at Lambeth, before which Wickliffe appeared; "when not only the London citizens, but the mob, presumed to force themselves into the chapel, and to speak in Dr. Wickliffe's behalf, to the great terror of the delegates; and that the Queen's mother sent Sir Lewis Clifford to them to forbid them to proceed to any definitive sentence:" with which message the delegates are said to have been much confounded. "As the reed of a wind shaken," says the historian on whose authority this statement rests-Walsingham (Hist. Angliæ)—“ their speech became as soft as oil, to the public loss of their own dignity, and the damage of the whole church. They were struck with such a dread that you would think them to be as a man that heareth not, and in whose mouth are no reproofs." On this occasion Wickliffe delivered in writing an elaborate statement of his views, but which was so little satisfactory to the delegates that they commanded him to repeat no more such propositions either in the schools or his sermons. We shall, however, soon find the obnoxious "propositions" coming in a more multitudinous voice, and attacked by more terrible weapons than verbal condemnation. The earliest portrait the gallery contains is that of Arundel, whose brother was beheaded at the time he was himself banished by Richard II. "The tonsure of his hair," as an ecclesiastic, says Fuller, was alone the cause of "the keeping of his head.” He returned with Bolingbroke, whom he crowned in Westminster Abbey. Archbishop Arundel has the bad reputation of being the first head of the church in England who brought in the argument of the fiery stake to aid the church in its endeavours to convince "heretics" of their heresy. The first victim was William Sawtre, priest of St. Osyth's, London; who, after a preliminary examination, having been adjudged to be a relapsed heretic, was delivered over to the secular power, in accordance with the provision of the famous law passed against such persons in the second year of Henry IV.'s reign. "The primate, Arundel, and six other bishops, assembled in the Cathedral of St. Paul's, arrayed in their pontifical robes, to perform the impressive preliminary ceremonial. Their victim was brought before them in his priestly attire, with the chalice for

holding the host, and its paten or lid in his hands. As the Archbishop solemnly pronounced his degradation from the priestly order, he took from him these sacred insignia, and at the same time stripped him of his casule, or distinctive rule of the priesthood, made in imitation of the scarlet robe of mockery of the Saviour. His degradation from the office of deacon was in like manner effected by putting the New Testament in his hands, and then taking it from him, and depriving him of the stole or tippet worn about the neck in memory of the cord with which Christ was bound. He was next divested of the alb or surplice, and also of the maniple (otherwise called the fanon or fannel), a kind of scarf worn on the left wrist, to denote his degradation from the order of sub-deaconship: after that he surrendered, as acolyte, the candlestick, taper, and small pitcher called arceole; as exorcist, the book of exorcisms; as reader, the lexionary or book of daily lessons; and as sexton, the surplice of that office and key of the church-door. Finally, his priest's cap was removed from his head, the tonsure obliterated, and the cap of a layman put upon him. When he had thus been wholly divested of his clerical character, he was delivered over to the custody of the High Constable and Marshal of England, who were present to receive him, the primate finishing his task by pronouncing the formal recommendation to mercy, with which the church was accustomed to veil, but only with a deeper horror, its deeds of blood. Sawtre was burned in Smithfield in the beginning of March, 1401, a vast multitude of people crowding to witness, with various, doubtless, but all with strong emotions, a spectacle then new in England."* These men were "wise in their generation;" all this ceremony, senseless as it now appears to us, was undoubtedly calculated to deepen the impression made by the execution, which for a time appeared to have accomplished all the objects hoped from it. We have, however, only to look upon this neighbouring portrait of Arundel's successor, Chicheley, who is represented standing within a rich Gothic niche, to remember that within the next twenty years it was found necessary to build new prisons, and to substitute prolonged imprisonment, whipping, and various other punishments, instead of the penalty of death, so numerous by that time were the heretics sentenced by the ecclesiastical courts. Then it was that the famous, or infamous, Lollard's Tower was built by Chicheley. Of the next five Archbishops, Stafford, Kemp, Bourchier, Morton, and Deane, there are no portraits, nor are there any circumstances connected with them requiring notice, except in the instance of Bourchier. During the period he held the see, Reginald Peacock, the learned, able, and moderate Bishop of Chichester, was summoned to Lambeth to answer to the truth of various false opinions attributed to him. Peacock was no Lollard; why then was he attacked? Simply because he wished the church to tolerate a latitude of opinion upon points that had been often acknowledged, even by the church, to be obscure, and in some respects incomprehensible. But this was sufficient to draw down upon his head the hatred and jealousy of the Establishment. On the day on which he was cited he appeared at Lambeth Palace, before twentyfour learned doctors, with his books, who were to report the result to three auditors-William Waynfleet Bishop of Winchester, Chedworth Bishop of Lincoln, and Lowe of Rochester. He was convicted of heresy, and would have been burnt but for his abjuration of the opinions he had promulgated, which also took place

*Pictorial History of England,' Book V. p. 142.

at Lambeth, November 28, 1457. He was then sent to Canterbury, by way of penance, prior to the more public ceremonial that was to take place at Paul's Cross. There he read his abjuration before the Archbishop and others of the clergy, and thousands of spectators, delivering at the same time fourteen of his books to an attendant, who threw them into a fire lighted for the purpose. After all this, the unhappy man was left to die in prison. The finest picture in the whole collection is that of Warham, the prelate next in succession to Morton. It was painted by Holbein, and presented by him to Warham, with the addition of a portrait of Holbein's friend Erasmus. The most remarkable circumstance connected with the palace in this Archbishop's time is the confinement of Latimer in it, most probably for a very brief period, as the fact is mentioned without further particulars. The next portrait in point of time is that of the great Oxford martyr, Cranmer, who, on the 28th of May, 1533, first declared within these walls to the public the marriage of Anne Bullen and the King, and then confirmed it with his judicial and pastoral authority; and who, on the 17th of the same month three years later, having "God alone before his eyes," pronounced in the same place that the marriage of Anne Bullen was, and always had been, utterly null and void, in consequence of certain just and lawful impediments which it was said were unknown at the time of the union, but had lately been confessed to him by the lady herself. Two days after poor Anne Bullen went to the scaffold; and on the third day, her successor, Jane Seymour, to the royal bed.

In the interval between the confirmation and the annulling of this marriage, occurred another interesting, but not, we should presume, very satisfactory event, to Cranmer, who could not but be doubtful of the righteousness of the course he was pursuing. On the 13th of April, 1534, Sir Thomas More and the venerable Bishop Fisher were sent for from the Tower to attend the commissioners then sitting at Lambeth, to administer the oath of succession (which excluded the Princess Mary, the daughter of Queen Catherine, in favour of the heirs of Queen Anne Bullen) to the clergy and others of London who had not already sworn. Neither of these eminent men, it appears, objected so much to the ostensible object of the oath as to the doctrinal points involved in it, and Cranmer had endeavoured to save them by seeking permission to omit the latter. But he failed; and it is highly probable that Cranmer now sent for them in order to try once more to induce them to save themselves by subscribing to the oath in its original state. Both again refused. The following little incident is recorded of Sir Thomas More on this occasion. A certain doctor of Croydon, who had made some difficulty before to the oath, now went up with the rest to be sworn. As he passed More, the latter, turning to Fisher, said, with a satirical smile, "He went to my Lord's buttery-hatch as he passed, and called for drink, and drank very familiarly, whether it were for gladness, or dryness, or that he was known to the Pontiff;”— a remark happily expressive of the doctor's forced endeavours to carry off, with an unconcerned air, what he was doing, and was ashamed of. In 1537 the archbishops and bishops held various meetings here to devise the composition of what has been styled the Bishops' Book ;' but they were obliged to separate on account of the plague then raging at Lambeth, and which was so virulent that persons were dying at the palace gates. A circumstance that shows how sincerely Cranmer participated in the Reformation, although compelled by circumstances and his own