While these pages were passing through the press, the dearest and best earthly friend of one of the authors passed on to "the city which hath foundations," that "house of God not made with hands, eternal in the heavens." By a strange and interesting coincidence, while this particular chapter was under consideration, there was found in her small pocket-book the appropriate poetic thought of another, which we here append:-- I do not know what sea shall bathe My tired and earth-worn feet, When they lay life's soiled sandals off, And enter rest complete; But I shall call that still sea, Peace! And in its limpid tide Lave all the dust of travel off, And find me purified! I do not know what sounds shall greet My soul's awakening sense, Nor what new sights await me when I take my journey hence. Though folded be my earthly tent, My soul hath where to stay, And she shall not be shelterless One moment of the way! And I fear no bewilderment, No shock of sudden change; To journey to one's home and friends Will surely not seem strange! And peace is on the waiting sea, And rest is on its shore; And further on--I dare not dream Of all that lies in store. How sweet and divine the influence,--in what sublime accord with our theme and place! To her dear memory, who--with a companion-mother yet in the flesh--of all friends most encouraged our proposed adventure; who more deeply and sincerely than any other mortals were solicitous for our safety and happiness while wandering among strangers and historic shadows in foreign lands; and who welcomed us with inexpressible gratitude on our return,--to them both, with filial affection, we inscribe this chapter; and among the world's great we erect shrine and monument to our own revered dead,--greater, to our hearts, than the monarchs or heroes who beneath cathedral pavements sleep. We return to the material aspect of the abbey and speak of its history. How full of incident! How long the catalogue of devotees and prelates and crusaders, of monks and nuns, of heroes both of the very old time and of the new.