MR. URBAN,

IN the recent restoration and refitting of the large parish church of Ellesmere, Salop, a work most creditable to all concerned in it, a discovery was made of an ancient sepulchral effigy of a highly interesting character, and of the class of diminutive effigies we sometimes meet with representing persons who had attained to manhood or an advanced period of life. This effigy, which is recumbent, measures three feet five inches in length; the slab out of which it is sculptured is four feet long, one foot eight inches wide at the head, and one foot six inches wide at the foot, and the material is free or sand stone. The effigy is sculptured in relief, the most prominent part being raised three inches only from the surface of the slab. It represents an elderly man, bareheaded, with the hair curled in flowing locks on each side of the face, in the fashion prevalent during the fourteenth century, but the upper lip and chin are close-shaven: the absence of the clerical tonsure evinces the person represented not to be an ecclesiastic, as many notaries were anciently. The head reposes on a double cushion, square in form, and the neck is bare. The dress consists of a short coat or tunic, extending to a little below the knees, with close buttoned sleeves, tunica cum manicis botonatis; over this is worn the surcoat or supertunic, of the same length as the tunic, with short wide sleeves reaching to just below the elbows. The supertunic is belted round about the loins, and the girdle or bawdrick is buckled in front, and both the tunic and supertunic open in front from the edge of the skirt eight inches upwards. From the girdle on the left side of the effigy is suspended by a narrow strap an inkhorn, and by another narrow strap a penner. The hands lie on the breast, with a book compressed between them; the shoes are pointed at the toes, and the feet rest against a dog. The execution of this effigy is rude, and altogether devoid of that elegance and merit so apparent in many of the sculptured effigies of the same era; but that it

was intended to represent a notary, scrivener, or country lawyer of the fourteenth century, I have little doubt, and I believe it to be the earliest effigy of the kind, and the only sculptured one at present known; for, although there are some few incised brass effigies of persons in the same profession, the earliest of those which have hitherto been noticed are not prior to the latter part of the fifteenth century, this effigy being of a period at least a century anterior to that date. This monument was preserved a few weeks

ago in the garden belonging to the vicarage house at Ellesmere and adjoining the churchyard; but I believe it is destined to be placed again, as indeed it should be, in the church.

The few incised brasses which represent notaries are, as I have observed, of a much later date than this effigy. One, in St. Mary Tower Church, Ipswich, without date or name, cannot be earlier, from the costume, than the reign of the fourth Edward. In this the inkhorn and penner, which are connected by a double lace or cordon, are suspended from the girdle on the right side. In the incised brass effigy in Holm Hale Church, Norfolk, of William Curteys, notary, who died A.D. 1490, the inkhorn and penner connected by a single cordon are suspended from the girdle on the left side, the cordon being placed over the girdle with the inkhorn suspended from the outside, and the penner from the inside. This was probably the mode of adjustment or suspension, partially concealed by the sleeve of the left arm, as exhibited on another incised brass effigy in St. Mary Tower Church, Ipswich, of Robert Wymbyll, notary, which brass bears the date of 1506.

The figure of a notary or scrivener, of the reign of Mary or Elizabeth, with the inkhorn and penner hanging from the girdle on the right side by a double cordon, is represented in an engraving in Strutt's "Dress and Habits of the People of England."

With none of these indeed appears the book upheld between the hands, as with the effigy at Ellesmere; but Mr. Waller in his admirable work on brasses mentions a painting by Peter Breughel of the early part of the sixteenth century, in which, amongst other figures, is that of a notary with girdle, penner, and inkhorn, holding a book in his right hand; and the book with the penner and inkhorn is adverted to by Shakspere in his character of the Clerk of Chatham, whom he introduces as a lawyer ordered to be executed by Jack Cade.

It is possible, nay probable, that the person now unknown to fame whom this sculptured effigy was intended to represent, may, like the notary commemorated in the cathedral church of St. Sauveur at Bruges, have been a benefactor to the church of Ellesmere, as the arches which divide the choir from a north aisle or chapel, the external walls of which are of the fifteenth century, may be ascribed to the same period as this effigy, that is, to about the early part or middle of the fourteenth century. However this may be, this effigy adds another example to a class of effigies hitherto almost unnoticed, representing civilians or laymen, not in armour, but in the ordinary and diversified male costume in fashion during the fourteenth century.

MATTHEW HOLBECHE BLOXAM.
Rugby, Sept. 10th, 1850.

springs, and now under the appearance of a hollow crater, sometimes forming a lake of water, sometimes cultivated, and sometimes sheltering in its hollow a village constructed of masses of lava. The general aspect of the country is that of a vast extent of table land undulated with valleys, its somewhat monotonous scenery being occasionally diversified with a conical peak, owing its shape to those convulsions of nature which have stamped so peculiar and marked a character upon this district. Cut off or remote from any of the great channels of communication, civilisation, and the changes which attend upon it, have had scarcely

a perceptible effect upon the inhabitants. Their villages are rudely constructed, and exhibit a wretchedness and want of comfort in their arrangements very striking to an English eye, whilst their vehicles and implements of husbandry are of the most primitive character: their cars, drawn by yoked oxen, not differing in shape from those in use in the same country fourteen centuries ago, when they acknowledged the dominion of the Romans. This is proved by the sculptures on the monument at Igel, near the ancient city of Treves, situated at one extremity of the angle which incloses this wild locality.

It is always interesting to illustrate the past by the present, and especially so when we perceive in any country remains of customs analogous to practices once common in our own. We are thence better qualified to judge of the usages of our ancestors, and of the motives under which they grew. In England much that illustrated the religion of our forefathers was destroyed at the first outburst of the Reformation. Religious indignation buried under whitewash those painted legendary histories which had so largely exhibited the popular faith, and written texts of scripture were substituted for the more universal language of art. The revolution of the seventeenth century completed what had been thus begun, and left but scanty stores for our research to draw upon. On the continent, with some exceptions, it is different. Heavy as was the hand of the great revolution of the last century, it has done comparatively less than our own, because less identified with religious than political changes. Where, indeed, religious emblems were then defaced or swept away they have found successors, perhaps copies of those destroyed, and thus have perpetuated the ancient objects of veneration. This may be noted in many instances by the dates of restoration on crosses and altars frequently met with in the Rhine provinces. But it is only the present intention of this paper to take notice of a few examples in connection with that part of the subject of iconography already illustrated in these pages, and then to give a few miscellaneous examples which, being of a character seldom met with, are worthy of record. The first

instance will be illustrative of the three persons of the Godhead, or the Trinity. An interesting example is to be seen near Remagen, on the Rhine, a small town of Roman origin, near the mouth of the river Ahr, and about twelve English miles from Bonn. On the side of the ascent which leads to the church and shrine of St. Apollinaris, is a niche containing a large crucifix of no early date, and on the soffit of the niche, which also serves the purpose of an altar, is a quatrefoil, containing a piece of sculpture, the execution of which appears to be late in the sixteenth century; but of this one cannot speak with certainty; it cannot however be earlier. It exemplifies the Trinity under one of the very earliest types: the Father is represented as a venerable man, with flowing hair and beard, his head covered with a kind of cap, perhaps a cap of maintenance, his right hand in the usual attitude of benediction; the Son is symbolised by a cross surmounting a globe; this occupies the centre; whilst the dove, with outspread wings, opposite to the figure of the Father, completes the Trinity. This arrangement, it will be at once seen, does not materially differ, if we except the figure of the Father, from the description given by Paulinus bishop of Nola, and followed out in the early mosaics; and there is no reason to believe but what this long obsolete mode of representing the Trinity is yet understood by those who frequent the church of St. Apollinaris, which is in some repute, as a place of pilgrimage, among the peasantry for many miles around. But the next example is perhaps more remarkable, for it certainly gives us the form of an ancient type executed in the present age, and has just been recently revived by fresh painting. This example is also derived from a roadside altar, and is found at the entrance of a small village named Saxler, in the midst of the Eifel. It represents the Divine Father and Son both seated; the Father holds the orb in the left hand, his right grasping the left hand of the Son, who occupies a seat on his right side, and is distinguished by the cross which he holds in his right hand; both are habited alike, with flowing tunic and mantle, and are not dissimilar in feature; but the workmanship is ex

tremely rude and ill-formed, proving it to be unquestionably executed in the neighbourhood. The Dove, which completes the combination, descends between the two figures precisely as in several examples by M. Didron, from MSS. of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. In the repainting, which was quite fresh, the chief conventionalities were preserved; but there were some deviations, which might have resulted from the painter being unable to distinguish what has previously occupied the same place.

A fine example of early date of the representation of the Deity occurs on the tympanum over the south door of the Cathedral of Mayence. It is of a kind rarely if ever found unmutilated in this country. It consists of a dignified figure seated upon a throne, with its feet upon the basilisk or dragon, a symbol of the evil one; the right hand is uplifted in the act of benediction, the left holds the open book of the Gospels, and the crossed nimbus is ornamented in imitation of jewelled work. The whole is contained within an aureole, supported by two angels; and it must be remarked that the head has but slight indications of beard, which, with other peculiarities, shows that the Almighty is here represented under the type of the Saviour, a form which was prevalent until the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. Above the head of the figure, sculptured on the key-stone of the arch, is the Dove, bearing the consecrated wafer, which we before explained while having under consideration a later but similar example, as indicating the bread sent down from heaven.' The date of this sculpture is probably the beginning of the twelfth century; that of the Arundel MS., which contains the other instance alluded to, is early in the fourteenth. It is somewhat unusual to find a regal throne or seat at this early period placed within an aureole; in general an arc or rainbow transverses it to form the seat of the Deity.

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finely executed for the period, especially the draperies, which are excellently carved, and treated with a skill unknown in works of the twelfth century among us. Beneath this sculpture and immediately over the doorway are the remains of painting, an unusual instance so applied, and of which we do not remember another example, as it is entirely exposed to the air. It is difficult to say in what manner the painting has been executed. It seems hardly likely to have been in distemper, for that would not have resisted the weather. It is not in fresco, for it is painted on the ashlar work. It is therefore most likely to have been in oil, which it is now well known was employed as early as the thirteenth century at least. This painting cannot claim a date previous to the beginning of the fourteenth. The subject, which is the Crucifixion, is thus treated: Christ, extended upon the cross, is bowing the head and giving up the ghost; on his right is the figure of the Virgin, on his left that of St. John, the beloved disciple; crucified, one on each side, are also the two thieves a figure is at the foot of each, apparently in the act of breaking their legs, whilst above, from the mouth of the good thief, an angel receives his departing soul; from that of the bad thief the same office is performed by a demon; this, however, which is on the left side, is much effaced. The figures are very small, less than a foot in height, so that there is but little room for the introduction of much detail, yet there is enough in the style of execution, and the character of the costume, to assign it to the early part of the fourteenth century. It is interesting to observe its connection with the sculpture above it; the one being a symbol of the "Lamb of God that taketh away the sins of the world,” the other a representation of the sacrifice itself, and, in the instance of the good thief, exemplifying the redemption of the repentant sinner. The painting therefore acts the part of a gloss or interpretation, not unnecessary when we consider the minds of those to whom the symbol was addressed. While on this part of our subject, it may not be irrelevant to notice a very curious and ancient crucifix preserved in the church of St. Maria on the Capitol at Cologne. It

seems to have escaped general attention, although the church, being one of the most interesting in that city, is much frequented by tourists in search of the "lions" of the place. It is placed over a side altar, at the northeast angle of the nave, and is covered with numerous votive offerings. The figure of the Saviour is given in the most repulsive form of that period of Byzantine art, which denied beauty to the Son of God. It is bowed as in extremity of suffering, and emaciated to that degree that the limbs assume the form of the bony structure only, such as would be the case in a person having suffered a length of severe sickness. The colour of the figure is a deep brown, almost black. Much of this may be from age; but there is no doubt its primitive hue was not dissimilar to what we now see it, as the indication of the blood proves, by being lighter in tone than the flesh, which would be the reverse if the skin had been fair. The cross, or tree rather, upon which the figure is extended, is peculiar in shape, resembling a Y, and is knotted at intervals. There is a tradition that this crucifix was brought from Jerusalem in the ninth or tenth century: however true this may be, and there is no reason to doubt it, it is certainly proved to be of very great antiquity, by peculiarities of treatment which a late period does not exhibit, and it remains an interesting illustration of that controversy on the personal appearance of Christ which engaged the attention of the Greek and Latin churches in the tenth century. The idea, as above given, was adopted by the Greeks in the eleventh century, and is continued to this day. In the south of France it has passed into a proverb, and one says of a man extremely thin, "he is like a Greek crucifix." The justification of the idea is said to be found in that passage from the Psalms, xxii. ver. 17, "I may tell all my bones." It is most probable, that the crucifix referred to may be as early in date as the eleventh century, which is the date of a portion of the church. It is of unquestionable Byzantine origin.

The wooden carved doors, of a date coeval with the erection of the church, for they do not appear to be later than the eleventh century, are too interesting not to be alluded to when speak

ing of the church of St. Mary; they contain in panels a history of the life of Christ. It would occupy too much space to give a full description of this interesting work, and would require also an engraving to refer to; we shall therefore only allude to one or two peculiarities which are worth being specially recorded. In the representation of the Baptism, our Saviour appears to be standing upon a basilisk, similar to that under the feet of the Deity, before noticed at Mayence Cathedral, and which we explained as typifying the spirit of evil: it is here no doubt introduced as symbolising the accomplishment of the prophecy," that the seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent's head." In the treatment of the subject of the Pentecost, it is remarkable that the figure of Christ is bodily introduced in the midst of the apostles, having a crossed nimbus and holding the gospel in the left hand; the other, now broken away, was probably in the act of benediction. In this also we have an attempt to embody a spiritual idea by visible forms, and to illustrate the teaching of Christ, that "wherever two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." Thus, by the visible bodily presence is attempted to be conveyed the idea of the spiritual presence of the Saviour at that event in which divine power was so remarkably manifested. These are the only two subjects we can find space for in this brief notice, and shall now pass to the consideration of one or two curious facts from another source.

Among the treasures of the public library at Trèves, attached to the Gymnasium, are two manuscript volumes of great antiquity, works of the ninth century. One is the celebrated copy of the gospels called the "Codex Aureus," from its letters being entirely written in gold; the other is a book of the gospels, which formerly belonged to Egbert, an archbishop of Trèves, whose miniature and name appear on the first page of the volume. The former is chiefly remarkable for the fact which gives it its name, and as a fine specimen of the caligraphy of the time. It has but few illuminations, and they are of a Byzantine character, very similar to those in Charlemagne's Bible, now in the British Museum: