HURCHES, abbeys, and magnificent specimeus of ecclesiastical architecture every where abound in our metropolis; but none is more worthy the research of the antiquarian than the venerable church of St. Mary Overie, or St. Saviour, in Southwark. Its architectural elegance and unique beauty are so attractive, as not to be passed over even by the casual passenger, who is frequently induced to explore its interior, which in harmony of design and strict keeping, rivals its interesting exterior. Indeed so curious is its history, and so important are the epochs to which it refers, that a brief sketch must prove an acceptable source of amuse-. ment to every lover of research.

Neither the dilapidations of time, nor the still more ruinous innovations of modern improvements, have been able to efface that beautiful character of what is called gothic architecture, by which the style of this church is distinguished. Externally it has suffered much more than internally, yet it still preserves the gloomy grandeur of its original features.

The etymology of its ancient name of St. Mary Overy is involved in obscurity. When written Overee, Mr. Pennant and some others say it meant over the ree, or river. Stow says the name was from Mary Audery. This might very easily be corrupted into Overy; but Mary Audery was never canonized; though she might have builded the house of sisters at the end of St. Mary Overy's church above the choir.' In some ancient records this church is called 'St. Mary at the Ferry,' afterwards, very common in those times, St. Mary o'Ferry.'

The body of the church it is supposed was built by Bishop Gifford, about the year 1106. It is erected in the form of a cathedral, with a nave, side aisles, transepts, a choir, with its side aisles; and the chapel of St. John, now the vestry; and chapel of the Virgin Mary. The chapel of St. Mary Magdalen is connected with the south aisle of the choir, though distinct from it.

6

There are twenty-six massy pillars, thirteen on each side, which support the roof of the nave. The four nearest the western door, which now form the principal entrance to the church, are denominated the massy round Saxon.' The second on each side had formerly a semi-octangular pillar, with clustered columns on each side; the other pillars are octangular, with slender clustered columns, like those in Salisbury cathedral, added at the four cardinal points. From corresponding clustered columns of a similar character, but with Corinthian and Doric capitals, spring the arches of the aisles; and here it has been remarked that we have a specimen of the conversion of the Saxon into sharp pointed arches, those springing from the round pillars, as well as all the others being of that form.

Entering from the western door, up the north aisle, was formerly a magnificent window, with plain mullions, consisting of a large sharp-pointed arch in the centre, and two semi-arches on each side. This is now walled up. At the entire western extremity of the aisle, there was formerly a large window without mullions. This is also blocked up. Here is the tomb of Gower, whom Johnson has dignified as the father of English poetry.

Having re-crossed the transept, we pass under portions of the north west gallery, the back of which is supported by slender pillars, greatly disfiguring this part of the church, and again enter the nave. Here are exhibited the richly groined ceiling, the screen, and the back of the organ loft, which divide a large portion of the nave from

the choir, and cut off the view of the highly ornamented ceiling over the choir. From this part are seen two of the semi-drops, or corbels, from whence the ribs of the cieling spring; and these corbels are not placed immediately over the clustered pillars, on which, before the year 1469, they doubtless rested. In that year, the roof of the nave fell in, and was rebuilt of wood, as well as that of the north transept; in which state they now are.

Over the western door is a very large window, modernized into two compartments, each having a range of five plain mullions. The upper division is lancet shaped; the lower has cinque foil arches. Its slender mullions, and want of decoration, are unworthy the massy character of this ancient fabric; and deteriorate greatly from those ideas which are formed by a mixture of the Saxon and Norman grandeur of other parts of this church. In the year 1703, the rich and beautiful tracing, and other remains of its ancient grandeur were cut away. The south side of the nave differs very slightly from this described. The carvings by which the corbels are ornamented, consist of figures having large wings, bolding their arms in various positions, and somewhat grotesque.

The font is inclosed in an oak railing, and consists of a neat white marble bason, on a pillar of the same, formed out of one solid block, over which is suspended the model of a temple made of oak. The noble and highly commanding Doric columns are partially hidden by the pulpit on one side, and the royal arms on the other. At the extremity is the magnificent altar piece, and window over it.* The gallery, in the window story, is continued from the western end of the nave over the arches in the choir to the screen, dividing it from the Virgin Mary's chapel.

A corbel, or boss, representing a female head, projects from the end of the outside moulding. Immediately before we come to this arch, we pass under another, extending entirely across the body of the church, at the extremity of the nave; the ribs from whence this arch springs having heads of human figures-an aged man's head, crowned, having long hair in ringlets; on the other a female head: supposed to be king John and his queen. Passing through the eastern end of the south aisle, a pair of gates leads into the Virgin Mary's chapel, where are many interesting monuments. Here we must close our description of the interior, which has recently undergone much alteration and repairs at an enormous expense.

Connected with this beautiful structure are many bistorical reminiscences of early times. Its monuments would fill a large volume. Adjoining are the Bishop of Winchester's palace; the old Globe Theatre; and many other relics of ancient interest. By the repairs the octangular towers at each corner, cased about half way from the top with brick, do not by any means, add to the beauty or grandeur of the building, not being in keeping with the venerable character of the gate and window below. Each side of the window is formed of flints, curiously inlaid. The slender pillars, the mouldings of the pointed arch which they support, the small niches at the sides, with their trefoil arches; and the quatrefoil ornaments, and the ornamental tracery in circles at the corners, are all in tolerable preservation.

Our engraving represents a south west view, in the road leading from the Borough market to Bankside. From the burial ground the whole side may be seen at one view, but a great part of the original building has been concealed by alterations and additions. Some flying buttresses, the windows of the south aisle, and the south porch exhibit its ancient grandeur. A door and three windows of St. Mary Magdalen's chapel remain; but the present door is of modern construction. Near the west end of this side there is a grand and beautiful porch, with double entrance, made by columns, with highly enriched capitals and other ornaments, circles, trefoils, and tracery. A range of small pillars forming niches, the centre one with a bracket, supposed, once supported the blessed virgin, to whom the church was originally dedi

cated.

This end of the building has lately been repaired at a considerable expense, Here is a screen of rich tracery, which has been for several years past hidden by a spacious allegorical painting or entablature. It should be mentioned that this accurate description was written in 1819. In an early number we intend to present our readers with an account of the celebrated Gower, the poet, and

his mouument.

ELLEN FITZ-ARTHUR.

A Metrical Tale.

AH, there was one for whom the sun
Went down in clouds and sadness,
For whom uo heart, when day was done,
Look'd out with smiles of gladness:
For whose return no eye was gazing,
For whom no cheerful hearth was blazing,
Whose dreary and forsaken home,
Was dark and silent as the tomb.

The rising moon's unclouded ray
Streamed on his locks of silver gray,
And from the hearth a dying beam
Shot upward, and with sickly gleam,
Lit his pale face: revealing there
The furrowed lines to time and care.
With head reclined in mournful thought
The old man sat, as memory brought
Fresh o'er his mind, the faded train
Of blissful hopes, indulg'd in vain ;
Of joys, that shed o'er life's decay
A mellow tint, an evening ray.

And was she gone, his only child,
His darling Ellen! she who smil'd
So artlessly, could she deceive him?
And could she have the heart to leave him?
Should be no more behold her?

Never!

She was the sun-beam of his age,
The star of life's dark pilgrimage;
And was she gone, and gone for ever!
Still in its burnish'd frame, behold
Her pictur'd likeness, as of old
She used his widowed arms to bless
In days of infant loveliness :
One dimpled arm, encircling prest
Round Carlo's neck, and shaggy breast,
On his broad head, so soft and sleek,
The other props one rosy cheek,
Years, since the artist's cunning skill

Those playmates drew, have passed away,

And Carlo keeps his station still

By that same hearth, grown old and grey: His spotted head, no longer sleek As when it propt that rosy cheek,