ompany of three notable divines, Maurice, Kingsley, and Keble. The
entrance is blocked by two huge eighteenth-century erections, the one to
Cornewall, a valiant sea-captain, put up by Parliament, the other to
Craggs, a young statesman, whose posthumous fame was sullied by his share
in the South Sea Bubble. The elder Craggs committed suicide {29} when
the Bubble burst, but the son died first, and Pope wrote a wordy epitaph
and superintended the erection of the monument. From this side we turn
to the other tower, but make no exhaustive survey of the "Whig Corner,"
for statesmen galore are to be found in the north transept, and we
mention the chief of these in connection with their contemporaries there.
The latest name here is that of General Charles Gordon, a bronze given by
the Royal Engineers seven years after the fall of Khartoum, but before
the fall of the Mahdi wiped out England's dishonour. It is not likely
that a Chinaman has joined our party; were one with us we would point out
Gordon's services to the Chinese government and the honours he received
from the Emperor. There is only one other memorial connected with China
(in the north choir aisle), put up a century ago to Sir George Staunton,
who went as Secretary on our first embassy to China. His son, a boy of
eleven, accompanied him, and actually learned enough Chinese on the
voyage to interpret for the party; he afterwards became a learned Chinese
scholar. We linger yet a moment to point out one of the few German names
in the Abbey, William Horneck, whose father, a Westminster Prebendary,
was a German {30} by birth; he was himself one of the earliest of our
Engineers, and won honour in the Duke of Marlborough's campaigns. When
we reach the south transept we shall see a more familiar German name on
the bust of Grabe, the well-known Oriental scholar.

We pass out now by the statue of a modern philanthropist, Lord
Shaftesbury, who fought as energetically for the freedom of the white
slave as did Zachary Macaulay, whose tablet is behind us in the tower,
for that of the black. Shaftesbury's efforts on behalf of the overworked
women and of the children in mines and factories will never be forgotten,
nor is the distinguished statesman Charles James Fox, whose connection
with the abolition of slavery is marked by the tasteless monument before
our eyes, in any danger of oblivion. The life-size group represents
Fox's dying agony in the arms of Liberty; a negro sla