n' lingered in the minds of men for generations. It was the
first cruciform church in England, from which all the rest of like
shape were copied--an expression of the increasing hold which, in the
tenth century, the idea of the Crucifixion had laid on the imagination
of Europe. The massive roof and pillars formed a contrast with the
rude wooden rafters and beams of the common Saxon churches. Its very
size--occupying, as it did, almost the whole area of the present
building--was in itself portentous. The deep foundations, of large
square blocks of grey stone, were duly laid; the east end was rounded
into an apse; a tower rose in the centre, crowned by a cupola of wood.
At the western end were erected two smaller towers, with five large
bells. The hard strong stones were richly sculptured; the windows
were filled with stained glass; the roof was covered with lead. The
cloisters, chapter-house, refectory, dormitory, the infirmary, with
its spacious chapel, if not completed by Edward, were all begun, and
finished in the next generation on the same plan. This structure,
venerable as it would be if it had lasted to our time, has almost
entirely vanished. Possibly one vast dark arch in the southern
transept, certainly the substructures of the dormitory, with their
huge pillars, 'grand and regal at the bases and capitals,' the
massive, low-browed passage leading from the great cloister to Little
Dean's Yard, and some portions of the refectory and of the infirmary
chapel, remain as specimens of the work which astonished the last age
of the Anglo-Saxon and the first age of the Norman monarchy."

Hitherto I have read to you with only supplemental comment. But in
the next following passage, with which I close my series of extracts,
sentence after sentence occurs, at which as I read, I must raise my
hand, to mark it for following deprecation, or denial.

"In the centre of Westminster Abbey thus lies its Founder, and such is
the story of its foundation. Even apart from the legendary elements
in which it is involved, it is impossible not to be struck by the
fantastic character of all its circumstances. We seem to be in a world
of poetry." (I protest, No.) "Edward is four centuries later than
Ethelbert and Augustine; but the origin of Canterbury is commonplace
and prosaic compared with the origin of Westminster." (Yes, that's
true.) "We can hardly imagine a figure more incongruous to the
soberness of later times than the quaint, irres