164 



AN OCTOBER ABROAD. 



that one wonders what occasion or what ceremony can 

 rise to the importance of not being utterly dwarfed 

 within its walls. The annual gathering of the charity 

 children, ten or twelve thousand in number, must make 

 a ripple or two upon its solitude, or an exhibition like 

 the thanksgiving of the Queen, when sixteen or eight- 

 een thousand persons were assembled beneath its 

 roof. But one cannot forget that it is, for the most 

 part, a great toy — a mammoth shell, whose bigness 

 bears no proportion to the living (if, indeed, it is liv- 

 ing), indwelling necessity. It is a tenement so large 

 that the tenant looks cold and forlorn, and in danger 

 of being lost within it. 



No such objection can be made to Westminster Ab- 

 bey, which is a mellow, picturesque old place, the inte- 

 rior arrangement and architecture of which affects one 

 like some ancient, dilapidated forest. Even the sun- 

 light streaming through the dim windows, and falling 

 athwart the misty air, was like the sunlight of a long 

 gone age. The very atmosphere was pensive, and 

 filled the tall spaces like a memory and a dream. I 

 sat down and listened to the choral service and to the 

 organ, which blended perfectly with the spirit and 

 sentiment of the place. 



ON THE SOUTH DOWNS. 



One of my best days in England was spent amid the 

 singing of sky-larks on the South Down Hills, near an 

 old town at the mouth of the Little Ouse, where I 



