Lanthony Abbey.

ANTHONY ABBEY, in the retired vale of Ewias, in Monmouthshire, prefents in its remaining ruins one of the finest specimens of the Norman-Gothic. It was built in the year 1108, in the reign of Henry I., when the Norman rule, and the Norman tafte in everything, prevailed. All who have seen the Abbaye aux Hommes and Abbaye aux Dames at Caen, in Normandy, built by William the Conqueror and by Matilda his queen, will be at once ftruck by the resemblance, especially in the squareness and maffiveness of the outlines, and of the ample and fquare towers. In these fine old remains we have that mingling of the round arches of the past Saxon and the pointed ones then first introduced. The pointed arches, too, are of differing characters; fome are acutely lancet, others of a more obtuse fashion. The building is divided at every separate height of window by bands running along the whole façade ; and the weft front in particular exhibits those unions of arches, and also blank arches, which marked the progress of Anglo-Gothic from the fingle round arches of the old Saxon, into a greater freedom, airiness and ornament. The northern fide has the least mixture of the Norman pointed arch, and in the east are immense entrance arches of both kinds.

LANTHONY ABBEY.

Lanthony, like Glastonbury and many other monasteries, had its literary monk, who became its historian; and from the monk of Lanthony we learn the following particulars, as preserved by Dugdale in his "Monafticon:"-St. David, uncle of king Arthur, finding a folitary place amongst woods, rocks, and valleys, built a small chapel on the banks of the Honddy, or Black Water; pronounced Honthy. He paffed many years in this hermitage, but after his death it was deserted for several centuries. It ftill, however, retained the name of Lan Dewi Nant Honddu, or the church of St. David on the Honddy, fince corrupted into Lanthony. But its restoration was by one William, a military retainer of Hugh de Laci, a great Norman

baron of the reign of William Rufus, who, whilst hunting, fuddenly discovered the mouldering hermitage of St. David, and was ftruck by a defire to abandon the world, and finish his days there. "He dismissed his companions," fays the monk of Lanthony, "and devoted himself to God. He laid afide his belt, and girded himself with a rope; instead of fine linen he covered himself with hair-cloth, and instead of his foldier's robe he loaded himself with weighty irons. The fuit of armour, which before defended him from the darts of his enemies, he still wore as a garment to harden him against the foft temptations of his old enemy, Satan, that, as the outward man was afflicted by aufterity, the inner man might be fecured to the service of God. That his zeal might not cool, he thus crucified himself, and continued his hard armour on his body until it was worn out with ruft and age."

He was afterwards joined by Ernesti, the chaplain of Maud, the queen of Henry I., and they built a small chapel in 1108. This was soon afterwards augmented by Hugh de Laci, earl of Hereford, the patron of William, into a priory of canons regular of the order of St. Auguftine. Large gifts of money and land were foon offered, but the two brethren declined them, defiring to "dwell poor in the house of God ;" and they were so earnest in defence of their poverty, that they put up conftant public prayers against wealth, and deprecated its acquifition as a dreadful misfortune. But their pious resolution, like that of all other monks, was fpeedily overcome by the arts of a woman. "Queen Maud," fays the monk of Lanthony, "not fufficiently acquainted with the fanctity and difinterestedness of William, once defired permiffion to put her hand into his bosom, and when he, with great modefty, submitted to her importunity, she conveyed a large purse of gold between his coarse shirt and iron boddice, and thus, by a pleasant and

innocent fubtlety, administered fome comfortable relief to him. But oh! the wonderful contempt of the world! He difplayed a rare example that the trueft happiness consists in little or nothing! He complied, indeed, but unwillingly, and only with a view that the queen might employ her devout liberality in adorning the church.”

But the charm was broken; gold had found its way into the priory, and by its inevitable attraction abundance more flowed after it. Splendid buildings speedily arofe, and in the midst of them a magnificent church. For a while fomething of the pristine discipline continued, however, and the monk of Lanthony describes the place and establishment in these terms :-" There stands in a deep valley a conventual church, fituated to promote true religion, beyond almost all the churches in England : quiet for contemplation, and retired for conversation with the Almighty. Here the forrowful complaints of the oppressed do not disquiet; the mad contentions of the froward do not disturb: but a calm peace and perfect charity invite to holy religion, and banish discord. But why do I describe the fituation of the place, when all things are fo much changed since its pristine establishment? The broken rocks were

traversed by herds of wild and swift-footed animals; these rocks furrounded and darkened the valley, for they were crowned by tall towering trees, which yielded a delightful prospect at a great distance to all beholders, both by sea and land. The middle of the valley, although clothed with wood, and sunk in a narrow and deep abyss, was sometimes disturbed by a strong blighting wind; at other times obfcured with dark clouds and violent rains, incommoded with severe frofts, or heaped up with fnow; whilft in other places, there was a mild and gentle air. The large and plentiful springs from the neighbouring mountains fell with a pleasant murmur into a river in the midft of the valley, abounding with fish. Some

times, after great rains, which were extremely frequent, the floods, impatient of constraint, inundated the neighbouring places, overturning rocks, and tearing up trees by the roots. These spacious mountains, however, contained fruitful pastures, and rich meadows for feeding cattle, which compensated for the barrenness of other parts, and made amends for the want of corn. The air, though thick, was healthful, and preserved the inhabitants to an extreme old age; but the people were savage, without religion, vagabonds, and addicted to ftealth. They had no fettled abode, and removed as wind and weather inclined them."

This is a fufficiently lively description of a location amid Welsh mountains at that period. The monks were doomed to feel the effects of the civil ftrife betwixt Maud and Stephen. The Welsh took refuge in the convent, and, in fact, seem to have taken free poffeffion of it. They came with their wives and children, and quartered themselves in every part of it. The women took poffeffion of the refectory. They fang profane songs, and scandalized the holy brethren "by their light and effeminate behaviour." Complaining of this rude invasion to Robert de Betun, bishop of Hereford, he invited the monks to Hereford, and then prevailed on Milo de Laci to grant them ground at Hyde, near Gloucester, where they built a church in 1136. But this proved the ruin of Lanthony. The monks were too much attached to the populous and more civilized city, and refused to return to the old Lanthony when the troubles were over. The new Lanthony, as the Gloucester establishment was called, received ample endowments from King John and other benefactors. The monks were courted by the great, and foon revelled in every species of luxury and worldly pride. They claimed the pre-eminence of the new over the old monastery.

"When the storm fubfided," fays the monk of Lanthony,