552 



NOTES AND QUERIES. 



[No. 163. 



staple topic the author thus further alludes to his 

 blindness, and to his extensive " forren travaile:" 



" Dark in a closet all alone, 



But not to muse on pelf, 

 Nor no man's business but my own, 



Bewail I with myself. i 



I who have seen, and likewise gon 



As far ('tween shore and shore) 

 As most have done, except the sun, 



I'm like to see no more." 



Such, verbatim et literatim, are a few jottings 

 from a class of books usually styled by the dealers 

 "Privately Printed," but which I would introduce 

 to your readers as specimens of the beggar- books 

 of the period. I cannot at this moment recall to 

 mind any allusions to this tribe of literary mendi- 

 cants in our earlier essayists ; but it is evident, 

 from these examples, that Messrs. II. A. and H. W., 

 if not one and the same firm, were active members 

 of a fraternity who made a trade of foisting their 

 bastard literature upon the unwary ; and when we 

 look at the superior style of binding (all the copies 

 of the Court Convert, in their pristine state, being 

 uniform, and creditable specimens of that art), and 

 special dedications, it is not to be wondered at 

 that they found a ready sale for their article, par- 

 ticularly among the country squires of the day, who 

 would probably look more to the compliments and 

 externals of the ware offered, than to its literary 

 merits. J. O. 



THE CHURCH OF ST. BAKTHOLOMEW THE LESS 



MILES COVERDALE. 



Most of your readers will remember that, 

 about ten years ago, the church of St. Bartho- 

 lomew, at the corner of the busy lane to which 

 it has bequeathed its name, was condemned, with 

 other adjacent buildings, to make room for those 

 improvements which of late years have revolu- 

 tionised the topography of not only the city, but 

 the metropolis at large. When the church was 

 closed, awaiting the hand of the destroyer, I was 

 courteously entrusted with the keys for the pur- 

 pose of making a record of the monumental me- 

 morials it contained, and many an hour I spent in 

 contemplating the solemn and impressive scene. 

 There are few persons who have not experienced 

 the undefinable thrill which creeps through the 

 veins on finding oneself, alone, the living among 

 the dead ; but in most cases the effect is relieved 

 by the appearance of comfort displayed in the 

 simple but appropriate furniture which meets the 

 eye ; here, however, was " no foreign aid of or- 

 nament," but all was bare, desolate, ghastly. 



There the depopulated gaping pews, once filled 

 ■with earnest faces and beating hearts, eager to 

 catch the sound of pardon and of peace issuing 

 from the lips of " heaven's ambassador," who had 

 80 long and so faithfully dispensed the glad tidings 



from yonder pulpit, now tenantless, and from 

 whence the last warning has been urged, the last 

 invitation given, the last benediction implored! 

 And there, too, stands the huge organ, from whose 

 marvellous mechanism no more, 



" Through the long drawn aisle and vaulted roof. 

 The peeling anthem swells the note of praise." 



Just beneath this noble instrument is seen the 

 enamelled dial, whose index no longer trembles 

 under the pulsation which regulated its daily 

 movement, and the iron tongue now hangs listless. 

 and mute, which once rang out the hourly reproof 

 that — 



" Man takes no note of time but by its loss ! " 



Rousing myself from this reverie, I took a closer 

 survey of the building, one of those erected by 

 Sir Christopher Wren after the Great Fire of 1666. 

 The style is plain and heavy, but as it was about 

 to be swept away, I made two rough sketches of 

 its architectural design as mementos of the past,, 

 and then betook me to the task originally pro- 

 posed, that of copying the inscriptions, as well 

 those engraved on the tablets which encumbered 

 the walls, as those still legible on the grave slabs 

 which formed the pavement of the church. 



One memorial I sought for in vain, viz. that to 

 the learned and laborious Miles Coverdale, who 

 translated the Bible into English. The old chro- 

 nicles of London agree that this benefactor to his 

 country was buried in the cemetery of this church ^ 

 it is therefore probable that, if any memorial ex- 

 isted, it perished in the general conflagration 

 which destroyed the structure in which, it was 

 erected. The following Queries naturally occur ; 

 whether, in removing the ashes of the dead from 

 their ancient resting-place, the remains of this 

 " Man of God " were discovered and identified ; 

 if so, whence were they conveyed, and how dis- 

 posed ? These Queries are historically and indi- 

 vidually interesting, and I look with confidence to 

 some of your numerous contributors for their so- 

 lution. M. W. B. 



MAUDLIN — SAPPHO — GOING TO SKELLIG. 



Will you allow me to offer you a handful of 

 small archaiologies — pepper-corns of acknowledg- 

 ment, as it were, for the pleasure I have received 

 from " N. & Q.," so full of all curiosities and feli- 

 cities ? The idea of your publication was a happy 

 one, and it has fallen in with the tastes and needs 

 of thousands everywhere. This catching the eels 

 of science by the tail is not so trifling as Plutus 

 Millionaire, Esq., supposes. It is highly interest- 

 ing to the philosopher, the historian, and to all 

 literary men in general. 



The spirit of a great revolution may be disco- 

 vered in a slang phrase, such as " hocus pocus," or 

 " my eye, Betty Martin." I wish to know if I am 



