parish church should stand so close beside the stately Abbey, which dwarfs into insignificance its smaller, yet not insignificant, proportions. We are often told that the mediæval builders, in almost every cathedral city, delighted to erect smaller churches besides the huge masses of these minsters, to serve as a scale whereby to measure the size of the larger edifices. Certainly the result is effective. The would-be lovers of the picturesque who glibly talk about pulling down St. Margaret's to improve the view of the Abbey, talk ignorant nonsense. Many years ago a Government Committee, following all the best artistic advice of the age, decided that the aspect of the Abbey is in every sense improved by the vicinity of the smaller building. St. Margaret's, perhaps, saved the Abbey itself from destruction. Lord Protector Somerset wanted to pull down the church, in order to use its material for the building of his huge palace-Somerset House; and it was shrewdly suspected that,

if he had succeeded in this, he would next have laid sacrilegious hands upon the Abbey also. But the inhabitants of St. Margaret's parish rose in fury, and drove away his workmen, so that his evil designs were perforce abandoned. London could never be guilty of so gross an act of barbarism as the destruction of a church which has a larger, more varied, and more interesting history than any parish church in England, and which is connected with associations of some of our greatest worthies—among others of Caxton, of Raleigh, and of Milton.

The church was originally built-as far back, certainly, as the days of the Confessor, and, perhaps, even earlier—for the worship of the population. The Abbey was not intended for parochial services. Its choir was the daily chapel of the Benedictine monks. Its nave was not a place for worship, but was set apart for great national and ecclesiastical processions. St. Margaret's is the most ancient, and was at one time the

only church west of Temple Bar. It served as the religious centre of a district which was then but sparsely inhabited, but now numbers myriads of inhabitants. It is only during the course of centuries that the parishes of St. Martin's-in-the-Fields, St. George's Hanover Square, St. John's Westminster, and multitudes of others have been cut out of its original extent.

But to turn to the Abbey itself, let us pause before the exterior of the east end of Henry VII.'s chapel, with the end of the south transept, one of the flying buttresses, and a corner of the Chapter House, projecting behind the private house of one of the Minor Canons. The name, "Henry VII.'s Chapel," has entirely superseded the name of "Lady Chapel." In mediæval minsters the chapel at the east end was invariably dedicated to the Virgin Mary, who was commonly referred to as "Our Lady." The position of the chapel, in the symbolism which ran through the minutest