with the momentous days when England was being released from the toils
of pagan ignorance became known as "the Old Palace Tea-gardens." The
popular mind had seemingly forgotten the original uses of the place
they were desecrating with fireworks and variety shows.

At last, in 1844, Mr. Beresford Hope rescued the half-destroyed
remnants of the abbey-palace, and through his generosity the present
missionary college was founded, and the buildings restored or
reconstructed. A more happy idea could scarcely have been suggested
than that of associating the abbey founded by the first missionary of
Christianity to England with modern efforts to carry the light into
the dark places of the earth. The much-restored gateway, built by
Abbot Fyndon at the beginning of the fourteenth century, the
guest-hall, and part of the memorial chapel, are the chief portions of
the old structures incorporated into the buildings that surround three
sides of the college quadrangle. Standing apart to the south is one of
the huge walls of the nave of the abbey church, and to the east are
the extensive excavations of the east end of the crypt and other
fascinatingly early remains of the historic churches mentioned in an
earlier chapter (p. 17).

Leaving the Abbey grounds, and continuing to the east, one reaches in
a few minutes the little church of St. Martin set on the knoll to
which Queen Bertha directed her steps. It is, however, a
disappointingly familiar type of Early English village church to the
casual glance, and until the fabric and the remarkable font have been
examined and discussed in the light of modern scientific archæology it
is difficult to appreciate the hoary antiquity of at least parts of
the structure. To understand the indications of the Saxon, or possibly
Roman, work in the fabric, and to know the reasons for considering the