A cathedral tour now lay between me and Scotland, to which I began to make my way rapidly. All that I had yet seen of architecture, promised to be the mere preface to what was still before me, in the splendours of Ely, of Peterborough, of Lincoln, of York, and of Durham. To my reader it will be impossible to convey the idea of variety and ever-novel delight with which these successive miracles of the builder’s art impressed me, as I passed from one to the other, from day to day; but I will touch on the more special characteristics of each, in full confidence that what is most striking in old historic monuments, like these, can never tire the head that is furnished alike with eyes and brains. The train took me swiftly to Ely, over a fenny district, which supplied nothing of interest, except the distant view of the towers, which loomed up, more and more, as we drew nigh the little city. How different this railway approach from that celebrated by Wordsworth:— “A pleasant music floats along the mere, From monks in Ely chanting service high, Whileas Canute the king is rowing by!” I found this magnificent work partly in ruins—partly undergoing a beautiful restoration; and as the pavement of the choir was torn up, I beheld a stone-coffin, in which, perhaps, lie the bones of one of those very monks, who were singing in the days of King Canute. At my request, one of the workmen raised the lid of the coffin, and there lay the skull and bones of an old ecclesiastic, the former quite entire; or, perhaps, it was St. Ethelfreda herself, who began her building here in the seventh century. If so, they are repairing her works, in the nineteenth, in a spirit of nobler art, than she ever imagined. The restorations are truly superb, and a future visitor will find the choir of Ely one of the most impressive temples in Christendom. What an age of restorations this is, in the Church of England! ’Tis a nobler reformation than that of three hundred years ago—for that was, necessarily, one of haste and of overthrow. Now a calm constructiveness is at work, holding fast all that was gained before; but giving it the finish, which was impossible then. And these material restorations are but the symbol of a great spiritual awakening, concerning which, there is one painful thought which no student of English History should ever forget. It is this, that but for the Puritans, all this would have been done in the seventeenth century! Greater and better men were then on the stage than any that are now living, and all that the age of Victoria is doing for Christ, it was in the heart of King Charles to do. It is impossible to say what might not have been the blessed results for the Universe had the Church of England been in a condition to tempt the Church of France to an alliance in 1682. All we can say on the other hand, is that, let Macaulay declaim as he may, progressive freedom would have been established in England