Let us tread more gently as we pass through the gates of the beautiful chapel. Here at any rate our Junior finds some rest and quiet, and is for a period beyond the reach of the weary call of “Junior, Junior.” I feel that it is a subject that cannot worthily be treated of by my trivial pen. The most indifferent stranger cannot enter its sacred precincts without being struck by the air of peaceful solemnity that pervades it throughout; how much more, then, must he be affected who revisits, for the first time after many years, the spot where as a boy he so often listened to the swelling tones of the organ, or eloquent words of wisdom—often, alas! but too little heeded! What crowds of reflections are called forth as he gazes on the scene! How many resolutions have here been formed, and how have they been kept? Can he flatter himself that he is really more advanced on the narrow path than when he sat on those benches years and years ago?

I will not attempt to describe the edifice. Let the reader imagine a noble choir lighted with large windows of rich painted glass, through which the slanting rays of the sun throw a many-coloured glow over the wainscot and stalls of polished oak. How well I know every feature of those quaint figures of prophets and apostles; and as I sit in my stall and see the boys trooping in, it is difficult to realise that I am no longer one of them.

But time has made many changes in the upper ranks; the clear ring of the melodious tones of the accomplished Head-master’s voice may still be heard, but he alone remains. In vain we look for the stalwart form and genial countenance of the late beloved Warden, Barter, who, having filled his responsible office full thirty years, has gone to his rest. In the long list of his predecessors there has been none who was more universally beloved in life, and whose death has been more unfeignedly regretted.

On our way from Chapel we pass through Antechapel, now somewhat curtailed in its dimensions, the screen which separates it from Chapel having been moved in order to give room for the increased number of boys. The beautiful font, presented by the Head-master, and some mural tablets, (which formerly stood beneath the Tower,) have been removed to a small side chapel, the entrance to which is under the organ; one of these, erected to the memory of a young and lovely wife by her sorrowing husband, bears the following beautiful inscription:—

In the vestibule leading to Cloisters, immediately opposite to the door of Antechapel, is the memorial erected by Wykehamists in memory of their brethren who fell in the Crimean war; it is worthy of its object, being beautifully executed in variegated marble. I have stood by their graves in the dreary Russian Chersonese, yet it seems but yesterday that I heard some of them answering their names at this very door.

The beautiful Tower attached to the Chapel had long been in rather a dilapidated condition, owing to its having been built on a very insecure foundation; it had inclined considerably to one side, a great crack had appeared on the contiguous wall of Chapel, which indeed it threatened to drag down, and it was considered unsafe to ring the bells. For these reasons the authorities determined to pull it down and rebuild it, stone for stone, with the old materials; this was commenced in 1860, and the work is now fully completed. It is called the “Tower of the Two Wardens,” in memory of the late Dr Williams, who was (many years Head-master of Winchester, and afterwards) Warden of New College, Oxford, and of Mr Barter, the late Warden of Winchester; while the work of reconstruction was going on, the opportunity was seized of enlarging the chapel by taking in part of the Antechapel, as described in a previous page. If the school continues to increase as it has done lately, this enlargement must, I think, be carried on further, and the whole of Antechapel be added to the main aisle. Beneath the Tower, on the southern side of the Antechapel, is the following inscription:—

The hours of worship (now, I believe, somewhat altered) used to be as follows:—At six A.M. in summer, at a quarter before seven in winter, at eight and at half-past ten A.M., and at five P.M., on Sundays,[6] Saints’-days, and Founder’s Anniversaries. On Fridays at eleven A.M., and on Saturdays at five P.M. the boys might be seen trooping across the quadrangle on their way to Chapel—on Sundays and on Saints’-days clad in white surplices. Besides this, every evening at nine prayers used to be read by the junior Præfect in Antechapel, who stood on the top of the steps leading up to one of the curtained and barred pews reserved for ladies, one of which was placed on each side of Antechapel; the fair occupants, not being allowed to enter the body of the chapel, were obliged to content themselves with looking and listening through the grating.

Once a year all the boys who had passed the age of fifteen, (and who had not previously gone through the same ceremony,) were marshalled into Chapel, and, under the inspection of “Semper Testis,” (the legal aide-de-camp of the College authorities,) went through the form of taking an oath. I have no distinct recollection of the form of the proceeding, (it is now abolished,) but I think the official above-mentioned read out a Latin document, and we were supposed to say Amen. I believe the gist of it was that we were to defend and befriend the college to the best of our ability, and never tell anybody what went on within its walls. I am sure I should require no compulsion to carry out the former obligation, should the occasion occur, and I had any possible means of fulfilling my duty, and if I have done no more harm in writing this little sketch of our proceedings at Winchester than infringing the latter, my conscience will not be much troubled. Although the making a number of thoughtless boys go through a ceremony of this kind may seem objectionable, yet it is not the part of a Wykehamist to exclaim against it, as, according to well authenticated tradition, Cromwell would have destroyed the College, had he not yielded to the urgent representations of one of his officers, who was a Wykehamist, and, mindful of his oath, succeeded in saving the noble establishment from its impending fate.

I must not take leave of Chapel without noticing the beautiful Cloisters, with a little gem of a chapel standing in the middle, surrounded by smooth green turf. It is now used as the Fellows’ library. I think it a pity that the Cloisters are so little seen, as they are very beautiful. The Fellows, in general, do not reside at Winchester, and I do not imagine that those who do spend any very great part of their time in such absorbing study that the movements of the Præfects in Cloisters on week days, and of the others on Sundays, would disturb them very much; to such an extent I think the boys might be admitted without danger of their injuring the building or the tablets on the walls. At present the extreme stillness of the place is somewhat overpowering.