as a convert, and afterward as a canon, in the abbey of Walsingham, by the name of brother Richardus, of Ely. I may never forget, albeit the remains of the good Chrysostom have long since mouldered away, the spiritual consolation which God willed that I should ever find in him, but specially in his words at this time. They seemed to give unto my famished and enfeebled spirit, the succour which the Hebrews found in the manna, that was wondrously rained around their camp: whilst his example seemed unto me like a voice in the desert, or the pillars of cloud and fire, to guide me through the wilderness of this world. Before becoming a brother of his abbey, the desires which I had heretofore formed of a monastic life often came back unto my memory, and I saw in the interview which I have now recounted, the means of realizing that holy contentment and tranquillity I had ever fondly looked unto; albeit, in the anxious troubles of my changeful life, they had been ofttimes disregarded or forgotten. Yet would I neither deny nor conceal that, even whilst thus resigning the world, some painful remembrances of my former love, and dreams of greatness, hung about mine heart, whereof my fantasy would frame a full gay picture of what might have been, the which vain expectancies 1 had now renounced for ever. Yet had I no merit in thus yielding up mine earthly love or ambitious hopes unto heaven, for conscience whispered unto me, that I had resigned them only when I might never hope to possess them. Howbeit, like too many who bring a seeming rich gift unto the altar, I wished, full weakly, to glorify myself for sacrificing the world unto God: yet de I now shrewdly fear that, had I ever attained unto the wild dreams of my youth, and had been united unto the Lady Bride, neither the blessed content of a holy life, nor a saint's golden palm or starry diadem, nor the unseen and unspeakable joys of heaven itself,-would have led me, weak as I was, contentedly to have resigned them. CHAPTER IX. THE LIFE OF A RELIGIOUS RECLUSE, AND A ROYAL PILGRIMAGE TO WALSINGHAM. Welcome, pure thoughts! Welcome, ye silent groves! These guests, these courts, my soul most dearly lovesA prayer-book now shall be my looking-glass, In which I will adore my Maker's face. Here dwell no hateful looks, no palace cares, SIR HENRY WOTTON. As I went to Walsingham, Met I with a jolly palmér, Clad in a pilgrim's weede. OLD BALLAD CITED BY BISHOP PERCY. FIAT PAX IN VIRTUTE TUA, ET ABUNDANTIA IN TURRIBUS TUIS!" Let peace be within thy walls, and prosperity within thy towers! was insculped above the chief gate of that holy monastery which had now become mine abode. And, in good sooth, it seemed unto me, as if I had suddenly found there the tranquillity which the world giveth not nor takes away;-the quiet rest for which I had long been searching: since the storms and dreariness of mine heart had suddenly passed, the tempest ceased, and there was a great calm. It seemed as if the tumults of the world could now reach me no more; and as though the wild confusion which I had once beheld therein, was but a troublous dream of the night out of which I was happily awakened. Yea, and not only awakened, but called therefrom to think upon the fairest images of celestial glory, which pointed out a heaven hereafter, and almost gave me a revelation of the beatific vision, even whilst I was yet upon earth. I will not here set down how stately and fitting a temple of God was the far-famed abbey of Walsingham, in its days of glory; because, all despoiled and dishonoured as it hath since been, enough of it remaineth to speak somewhat of its wonted magnificence; and to show that he whom holy contemplation or calamity had weaned from the base and fleeting enjoyments of life, might not desire a fairer asylum wherein to give his last days unto devotion, repose, or sacred tranquillity. Yet was not so rich and noted a shrine as this, so retired from the world as to hear no reports of that which was passing abroad; because, through the frequent visitations of pilgrims and others, many tidings of public things found their way even unto this holy retreat, some whereof were written into our own chronicles to keep them in memory. Thus, we heard how the fraudful instruments of the late Henry Tudor's extortion, Sir Richard Empson and Edmund Dudley, in the year 1510, were convicted and executed as traitors; their meaner agents being killed by the people, It was told us how in 1513, the new Pope LED X. entered into a league with King Henry against. Louis XII. of France, sending unto him a barque laden with choice viands and rich wines as gifts, and indulgences and holy symbols for such as should go with him to war against that country. Anon we heard how Henry had gone upon that expedition in person, with much state, having a great power of near 15,000 men; and retaining the famous Almaine Emperor Maximilian and his host, who wore St. George's cross, and had an hundred crowns for their daily payment. There after came the battle of the Spurs, and the taking of Tournay, and then the Earl of Surrey's victory over the Scots at Floddon-field, wherein King James IV. was slain; whereupon Queen Catherine came unto Walsingham, and returned our Lady great thanks for the same: and in 1514 we were told of a treaty of peace with France, and how Henry's younger sister, Mary, was married unto King Louis. About this time, moreover, we heard much of the sudden, yet deserved, greatness of Thomas Wolsey, an especial favourite of the late Henry of Lancaster, who now became Lord High Chancellor; being, at the same time, a cardinal-legate, archbishop of York, and the holder of two bishoprics, with many other great church-dignities in commendam. So powerful and rich a priest was certainly never seen in England, and he was withal fitted for much ho» nour, being a great statesman and a good scholar, though somewhat proud and vain-glorious; but his full sad fall, many years after this, made me to pity him yet more than I had ever blamed him. In the year 1516, I remember me that the Queen VOL. II.-N |