e wonderful description of that
"unaccountable sort of expedition," in the twelfth chapter of _Edwin
Drood_, must have been written from imagination.

As it is Sunday, and as the summer is nearly over, Mr. Miles, with a
feeling akin to that which George Eliot has expressed regarding
imperfect work:--

"but God be praised,
Antonio Stradivari has an eye
That winces at false work and loves the true,"--

apologetically explains that one-half the choir are absent on leave, and
perhaps we shall not have the musical portion of the service conducted
with that degree of efficiency which, as visitors, we may have expected.
Nevertheless we attend the afternoon service; and Mendelssohn's glorious
anthem, "If with all your hearts," appeals to us with enhanced effect,
from the exquisite rendering of it by the gifted pure tenor who takes
the solo, followed by the delicate harmonies of the choir, as the sound
waves carry them upwards through and around the arches, and from the
sublime emotions called into being by the impassioned appeal of the
Hebrew prophet.

We study "the fantastic carvings on the under brackets of the stall
seats," and examine the lectern described as "the big brass eagle
holding the sacred books upon his wings," and in imagination can almost
call up the last scene described in _The Mystery of Edwin Drood_, where
Her Royal Highness, the Princess Puffer, "grins," and "shakes both fists
at the leader of the choir," and "Deputy peeps, sharp-eyed, through the
bars, and stares astounded from the threatener to the threatened."

Upon being interrogated as to whether he knew Charles Dickens, our guide
immediately answers with a smile--"Knew him! yes. He came here very
often, and I knew him very well. The fact is, they want to make me out
to be 'Tope.'" And indeed there appears to be such a relevancy in the
association, that we frequently find ourselves addressing him as "Mr.
Tope," at which he good-humouredly laughs. He further states that
Dickens was frequently in Rochester, and especially so when writing
_Edwin Drood_, and appeared to be studying the Cathedral and its
surroundings very attentively.

The next question we put is:--"Was there ever such a person as Durdles?"
to which he replies, "Of course there was,--a drunken old German
stonemason, about thirty years ago, who was always prowling about the
Cathedral trying to pick up little bits of broken stone ornaments,
carved