Besides these Chapels, there are Hastings, Aldworth, and Beaufort Chapels, which received their names from the persons interred within their walls. The last mentioned is perhaps the most worthy of observation. A spacious tomb, enclosed within a screen of strong brasswork, gilt, supports the figures of Charles, Earl of Worcester, and Elizabeth his wife, of the time of King Henry the Seventh, both splendidly apparelled.

overwhelmed with sorrow. The subject represented above this affords a striking contrast to the scene of death and mourning. The spirit of the departed Princess is represented ascending from a tomb and supported by two angels, one of whom bears her child towards heaven.

-All, all of worth, That warmed the tenants of yon silent bier, Hath thither fied: her soul of heavenly

birth,

And his who sought at once a brighter sphere, And left this world unseen, nor sinned, nor sorrowed here.

We now proceed to mention the parts below the building.

In the royal vault in the choir, near the altar, are the remains of King Henry the Eighth and his Queen, Lady Jane Seymour, King Charles the First, and an infant nch child of Queen Anne, when Princess of Denmark. A doubt having ex isted respecting the real place of King Charles's interment, a search was made in this spot, by the Prince Regent, in 1813. An interesting narrative of the investigation was published by Sir H. Halford, Bart, one of the eye-witnesses. The body of Charles the First was discovered in a coffin bearing his name. The head, which was separated from the body, bore a strong resemblance to the pictures of the unfortunate king. The skeleton of Henry the Eighth was also found, but the remains of Lady Jane were not disturbed.

Opposite to Beaufort Chapel, and at the west end of the north aisle, is a monument which, above all others in the place, claims the attention of every visitor to St. George's Chapel, and indeed may be considered, in reference to the event it records, one of the most affecting memorials that this country can produce. The cenotaph of the lamented Princess Charlotte occupies the space formerly called Urswick Chapel. It was designed and executed by Sir Jeffery Wyatville, and is a national tribute to the memory of one, who before she descended to an early grave, had given bright hopes of the future, and by her moral worth had cemented the affections of the whole people. Many of those who now view this inonument doubtless retain much of the impression occasioned at the time by the awfully sudden dispensation of her death; for the grief was as universal as it was deep. But there is something unusually solemn and touching in the tale told by the storied marble, even to those who are not usually influenced by such recollections. The body of the departed Princess is represented in white marble, lying on a bier, at the moment when the immortal spirit had quitted its earthly tenement; it is covered with drapery, from beneath which a part of the right hand only is seen. At each corner an attendant female appears

The more modern royal vault, in which some of the illustrious members of the present reigning family have been buried, is under an an cient stone building, formerly called WOLSEY'S TOMB-HOUSE, at the east end of St. George's Chapel, and was constructed by King George the Third. The entrance to the ce metery is in the choir of St. George's Chapel, near the altar, from which an under-ground passage leads to this silent sepulchre of the great. In it have been deposited the re

mains of the Princess Amelia, the Princess Charlotte, Queen Charlotte, the Duke of Kent, King George the Third, the Duke of York, King George the Fourth, and King William the Fourth. The bodies also of two young princes, Alfred and Octavius, sons of George the Third, were removed to this vault from Westminster Abbey.

IMPRESSIONS OF ENGLAND,

BY AN AMERICAN.

proprietors fill the mind with images of ease and luxury, the mouldering ruins that remain of former ages, of the castles and churches of their feudal ancestors, increase the interest of the picture by contrast, and associate with it poetical and affecting recollections of other times and manners. Every village seems to be the chosen residence of Industry, and her handmaids, Neatrious parts of the island, her operaness and Comfort; and, in the vations present themselves under the most amusing and agreeable variety of forms. Sometimes her votaries are mounting to the skies in manufactories of innumerable stories in height, and sometimes diving in mines into the bowels of the earth, or dragging up drowned treasures from the bottom of the sea. At one time the ornamented grounds of a

the fabled Elysium; and again, as you pass in the evening through some village engaged in the iron manufacture, where a thousand forges are feeding at once their darkred fires, and clouding the air with their volumes of smoke, you might think yourself, for a moment, a little too near some drearier residence.

No country in Europe, at the present day, probably none that ever flourished at any preceding period of ancient or of modern times, ever exhibited so strongly the outward marks of general industry, wealth, and prosperity. The misery that exists, whatever it may be, retires from public view; and the traveller sees no traces of it, except in the beg-wealthy proprietor seem to realize gars, which are not more numerous than they are on the continent,-in the courts of justice, and in the newspapers. On the contrary, the impressions he receives from the objects that meet his view are almost uniformly agreeable. He is pleased with the great attention paid to his personal accommodation as a traveller; with the excellent roads, and the conveniences of the public carriages and inns. The country everywhere exhibits the appearance of high cultivation, or else of wild and picturesque beauty; and even the unimproved lands are disposed with taste and skill, so as to embellish the landscape very highly, if they do not contribute, as they might, to the substantial comfort of the people. From every eminence extensive parks and grounds, spreadfar and wide over hill and dale, interspersed with dark woods, and variegated with bright waters, unroll themselves before the eye, like enchanted gardens. And while the elegant constructions of the modern

The aspect of the cities is as various as that of the country. Oxford, in the silent, solemn grandeur of its numerous collegiate palaces, with their massy stone walls, and vast interior quadrangles, seems like the deserted capital of some departed race of giants. At Liverpool, on the contrary, all is bustle, brick, and business. Everything breathes of modern times, every body is occupied with the concerns of the present moment, excepting one elegant scholar, who unites a singular resemblance to the Roman face and the dignified person of our Washington, with the magnificent spirit and intellectual accomplishments of his own Italian hero.

At every change in the landscape | Most of their castles, have, however,

you fall upon monuments of some new race of men, among the number that have in their turn inhabited these islands. The mysterious monument of Stonehenge, standing remote and alone upon a bare and boundless heath, as much unconnected with the events of past ages as it is with the uses of the present, carries you back, beyond all historical records, into the obscurity of a wholly unknown period. Perhaps the Druids raised it; but by what machinery could these half-barbarians have wrought and moved such immense masses of rock? By what fatality is it, that, in every part of the globe, the most durable impressions that have been made upon its surface were the work of races now entirely extinct? Who were the builders of the Pyramids, and the massy monuments of Egypt and India? Who constructed the Cyclopean walls of Italy and Greece, or elevated the innumerable and inexplicable mounds, which are seen in every part of Europe. Asia, and America; or the ancient forts upon the Ohio, or whose ruins the third growth of trees is now more than four hundred years old? All these constructions have existed through the whole period within the memory of man, and will continue, when all the architecture of the present generation, with its high civilization and improved machinery, shall have crumbled into dust. Stonehenge will probably remain unchanged, when the banks of the Thames shall be as bare as Salisbury Heath. But the Romans had something of the spirit of these primitive builders, and they left everywhere distinct traces of their passage. Half the castles in Great Britain were founded, according to tradition, by Julius Cæsar; and abundant vestiges remain, throughout the island, of their

and forts, and military roads.

been built upon, and augmented at a later period, and belong, with more propriety, to the brilliant pe= riod of Gothic architecture. Thus the keep of Warwick dates from the time of Cæsar, while the castle itself, with its lofty battlements, extensive walls, and large enclosures, bears witness to the age when every Norman chief was a military despot within his own barony.

To this period appertains the principal part of the magnificent Gothic monuments, castles, cathedrals, abbeys, priories, and churches, in various stages of preservation and of ruin; some, like Warwick and Alnwick Castles, like Salisbury Cathedral and Westminster Abbey, in all their original perfection; others, like Kenilworth and Canter bury, little more than a rude mass of earth and rubbish; and others, again, in the intermediate stages of decay, borrowing a sort of charm from their very ruin, and putting on their dark green robes of ivy to conceal the ravages of time, as if the luxuriant bounty of nature were purposely throwing a veil over the frailty and feebleness of art.

BOLTON PRIORY.

THE picturesque remains of this once magnificent monastic estab lishment are situated in Yorkshire, on the banks of the river Wharfe, about six miles from Skipton. The melancholy event that led to the foundation of the monastery is related by Dr. Whittaker, in his He tory of the Deanery of Craven, and is likewise the subject of a short but beautiful poem by Wordsworth

A priory was founded at Enbassy, about two miles from Bolton, by William de Meschines and C cilia his wife, in the year 1121, för" canons regular of the order of St

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thrown over another arch, which | Bridge, is perfectly enchanting. Imcrosses a tremendous chasm.