various other ways of vehiculating, and
conveying safe,--what is it? Let the Minerva and other Presses
respond!--But it is time we were in St. Edmundsbury Monastery,
and Seven good Centuries off. If indeed it be possible, by any
aid of Jocelin, by any human art, to get thither, with a reader
or two still following us?

Chapter II

St. Edmundsbury

The _Burg,_ Bury, or 'Berry' as they call it, of St. Edmund is
still a prosperous brisk Town; beautifully diversifying, with
its clear brick houses, ancient clean streets, and twenty or
fifteen thousand busy souls, the general grassy face of Suffolk;
looking out right pleasantly, from its hill-slope, towards the
rising Sun: and on the eastern edge of it, still runs, long,
black and massive, a range of monastic ruins; into the wide
internal spaces of which the stranger is admitted on payment of
one shilling. Internal spaces laid out, at present, as a botanic
garden. Here stranger or townsman, sauntering at his leisure
amid these vast grim venerable ruins, may persuade himself that
an Abbey of St. Edmundsbury did once exist; nay there is
no doubt of it: see here the ancient massive Gateway, of
architecture interesting to the eye of Dilettantism; and farther
on, that other ancient Gateway, now about to tumble, unless
Dilettantism, in these very months, can subscribe money to cramp
it and prop it!

Here, sure enough, is an Abbey; beautiful in the eye of
Dilettantism. Giant Pedantry also will step in, with its huge
_Dugdale_ and other enormous _Monasticons_ under its arm, and
cheerfully apprise you. That this was a very great Abbey, owner
and indeed creator of St. Edmund's Town itself, owner of wide
lands and revenues; nay that its lands were once a county of
themselves; that indeed King Canute or Knut was very kind to it;
and gave St. Edmund his own gold crown off his head, on one
occasion: for the rest, that the Monks were of such and such a
genus, such and such a number; that they had so many Carucates
of land in this hundred, and so many in that; and then farther
that the large Tower or Belfry was built by such a one, and the
smaller Belfry was built by &c. &c.--Till human nature can stand
no more of it; till human nature desperately take refuge in
forgetfulness, almost in flat disbelief of the whole business,
Monks, Monastery, Belfries, Carucates and all! Alas, what
mountains of dead ashes, wreck and burnt bones, does assiduous
Pedantry dig