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can apparently never be extended beyond zling to our young Templar, is that that tongue, which the House seems since which regards the personal identity of to have abandoned in despair. But the pub- the ingenious author. His name, he lic require to be undeceived in an opinion, says, is Nicholas Thirning Moile, and long traditionary, and formerly perhaps cor- his habitat is 11, Crown Office Row, rect, but, though lately inculcated by some

Temple. Our friend, wishing to make very popular publications, altogether at

his acquaintance with a view, no variatice with the universal advancement of doubt, to the crack article-proceeded, the age,—the opinion, that your special one rainy day, to call at No. 11; but, pleader is a creature without imagination, afier an hour's hunting, gave it up in refinement, or sensibility ; whom no arts

despair. He ought not to be dismay. delight, no muse illumines, no grace can inspire ; who, by the sterility of an intricate ed; for how seldom has it happened

to any man that he found the desired and ungrateful profession, that always ex

number on the first day's voyage of hausts and never enriches the intellect, has been placed beyond the pale, alike of polite discovery, either in the most regular society and of elegant literature ; and being

of squares, or the simplest of streets ? therefore condemned to either an affectation

That 11, Crown Office Row, Temple, of what he never can attain, or a sullen

exists, why in unmanly despondency contempt for what he does not understand, disbelieve? See the immediate consefinds a life of study has filled his mind quence of such scepticism—that there with only a species of learning, which, out is no Nicholas Thirning Moile. That of the limits of his own country, or the gentleman, of whose existence we have sphere of his own business and associates, no more doubt than our own, attri. is every where either utterly rubbish, or butes the chief authorship of the State valuable for the most sordid motive alone. Trials to a pupil of his now dead. Such is by no means the classic pleader of The poor youth was drowned, we are the present moment. The themes of his told, on his passage from the Isle of reflection and discourse will be found to Man," having first duly made and blend whatever is subtlest in the learning published his last will and testament, of his profession, or choicest in its phrases, by which I was appointed his execuwith all that is polite in music, painting, tor; an office, for once, of no great travel, literature, and science; and with all that is elegant in amusements, sports, his debts less.

trouble, as his assets were small, and and fashion,-even to the nicest apprecia document, together with the keys of

On receiving this tion of an opera ballet. And I am free

his cliambers, I found in his library to confess, that the older I grow the more do I appreciate that most graceful and

a row of large quartos, ranged under retined spectacle, which the youth, beauty,

Wentworth's Pleadings, and lettered and gaiety of human kind can ever exhi

on the back · Precedents.' Within, bit ;—ihat vague and elegant expression instead of Pleas, I found it entitled of the relations of the sexes, their desire

State Trials ;' nor had I read far to please, and pride to display their before I discovered it was written in charms;-tbat imitation of sentiments, metre and rhyme. What was this abstracted indeed from their ordinary but my own design of combining the modes, and impersonated in new phases learning of the law with the melody and combinations, of measured motions, of verse ; a design I had before commusical attitudes and harmonious positions, municated to my late pupil in frequent -adorned with all that fancy in costume, conversations ? It was evident he had taste in grouping, cheerfulness in features, been working upon my ideas, which I health, love, and festivity, can add to the considered no less my own property fairest of human forms. The apprecia than even my very books themselves. tion of this is undoubtedly the more pecu- Let it not be supposed that these liar property of the learned profession, things are now mentioned in aud by traditionary right; as the ballet is

of complaint, or to intimate the charge evidently borrowed from the ancient revels

of plagiarism in my poor friend. He, of the Inns of Court, in whose stately

I doubt not, either always intended to dances perhaps the art-now Jost-- was

contribute his assistance to my work, then practiced, of representing by solemn gestures and measures, and with their

or may even have been utterly unfeet in walking, the intricacies of law

conscious of any such trespass ; insuits, and the reasonableness of their decis deed, he has too much mistaken the sion."

object, or departed from the conduct

of the original design, to leave me any The part of the Preface most puz- regret, but that I can derive so little

any spirit


aid from labours which might have to walk in the footsteps_and close been turned to some account, could I at the heels, of some one or other of have directed their pursuits." There the ordinary children of men. is an air of truth and sincerity in all The poem opens with a picturesque this which must satisfy, one might description of the Sacrifice of the think, every not over-incredulous mind. Mass in “ St Paul's,” which is fol

But our friend is not satisfied, and lowed by a Sermon as supposed to mentions in his letter another cause of have been preached by an eloquent disquiet. Mr Moile having spoken of Clerk, in conclusion of the service. his poor pupil's chambers, says, in a The usual effects produced by a sernote:-“Now vacant, consisting of mon on the audience are pithily exthree rooms and a dark closet, up four pressed—at the close, pair of stairs, at a reduced rent-mine.

" And some approved, some censured, ty-two guineas and a half. Apply at

others slept, Danby's, bair-dresser, Cloisters." To ,

Or dreamt awake ;” Danby's our friend repaired-thinking the chambers would suit his purse and and so is the “ scalin' o' the kirk". love of privacy-when, to his astonish- the dismissal of the congregation ment, Danby declared that he knew of

“ The poor to labours and the rich to no such chambers! Many applica- cares.' tions, he added, had been made to him about them, within the last six months; the South-in procession—“paired in

But the brethren move out towards and he did indeed mostearnestly desire

long order"-vergers, monks, canons, to know where they were situatedand if any body could give any

pr lates

information about Mr Moile. Further, our

“ Stern Arundel, their sovereign, follow

ing all,” friend has received letters, he tells us, from the gentlemen respectively and enter the chapter-house, in which inhabiting Nos. 10 and 12, Crown remains to be done the chief business Office Row, Temple, demanding if he

of the day. be the person who has been perpetually But before we proceed to that'stern disturbing their doors since the sum. assize," let us listen to some of the mer of 1833 with enquiries about a Mr loftier strains in the preparatory serMoile—and threatening legal proceed- mon. The Clerk does not preach from ings against the individual guilty of any specific text, nor does his discourse the nuisance. We can only repeat our consist of many separate heads, termiadvice in one word-Persevere.* nating with “practical conclusions."

So much for Notes and Preface. It is, in truth, the Poet himself who now for the State Trials themselves breaks forth into an impassioned adreported in verse. They are three in dress to the surrounding sanctities, number— Trial of Anne Ayliffe for

" Before an altar crown'd with every heresy-of Sir William Stanley for

worth; high treason—and of Mary Queen of The gate of Heaven to suppliants on earth; Scots. They may be called Poems- Where all the arts reflect their Author's and three fine ones; and that we may

grace; do ample justice to the mind that pro- Where priests supreme in polity and place, duced them, we shall give as many With solemn march, in robes of radiant lon, extracts as possible from the first dyes, and perhaps the finest-assisting you O'er sainted relics, dress the sacrifice.” all-kind friends—to comprehend and feel the spirit of the whole, by means

The silence and the song, the whis. of such connecting links as our own pered and the spoken prayer-flowers, few words may supply. After all, such banners, censers, and ascending smoke articles are the most delightful of any

-the sculptured and the limned de. and it may prove more difficult to signimitate than to depreciate them, to “ Dread pageantries, for which man's soul any moonstruck transcendentalist who

was made, may come down from his clouds, some- And every charm that brings devotion what fretful on account of the cold, aid”

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* We have just heard that Mr Moile resides--not at 11-but at 111, Crown Office Row, Temple.

by them he is inspired, and to them • Lord God of Sabaoth'-burst the Fane's he speaks--while


Then peal’d Hosannahs, Hallelujah rung, “ He, The Word,

Deep organs shouted with a trumpet's Unseen, yet present to ethereal sight,

tongue ; Broods o'er the whole, and consecrates

Through nave and transept rollid the the rite."

bellowing sound, And ere the Poet, in the character And swell'd and Hooded aisles and arches of “ a Friar of Orders Grey,” stands round; up to preach, the congregation has Each pillar trembles, kneeling statues nod, been stilled--thus,

And walls with men re-echo-thanks to

God!" " Alone the Friar in accents clear and lowly

At that moment, when with one heart Pursued the chant-For only Thou art all ages and degrees are mingled in holy,

devotion, the Preacher, glorifying Thou only wise, thou only the Most High!' Tue Word, exclaims

“ For him, ye columns, rear your brows on high !

Lift up your heads, great portals of the sky!
What fairer dome, save that which heaven expands,
What worthier seat of temples made with hands,
Than builders sage here pillar'd for his throne ?
For nature's God a work like Nature's own :
Or where unlike the form her hands produce,
Still like in grace, magnificence, and use.
In new designs her fair proportions shown ;
Her likeness traced in structures not her own;
Her measure follow'd, harmonies bestow'd
On strange materials, in an unknown mode ;
And balf her influence o'er the mind imprest
By different means, and thence with livelier zest;
And half her charms to fascinate the heart,
Oh, noblest work of imitative art !
To pite columnar trunks from marble mines,
Embower their boughs and interlace with vines ;
Pile higher still, and arch a vault on high,
To shield the storm, and emulate the sky;
Cross aisles to vistas of her sylvan bower ;
Rear for the sun in heaven a lantern tower ;
Adapt each limb with various height and length,
And bind the whole in unity and strength;
Copying, abstracted, in a different plan,
The grace and order of the world and man:
And scarce with rapture less, and awe, confound
And list to God the wight who gazes round,
Than who beneath a cliff sees capes and bays
Far tinged with sunset's red and yellowy rays ;
Or nightly wandering hears the hills accord,
And heavens declare the glory of the Lord -
When winds and waves through shadowy woods intone,

And ghastly moonlight chills the glimmering zone.” What would they in the dust? Ap- of the Saints—and your souls shall pease offended Heaven. And by what live. Thus it shall be till the end of sacrifice ?

time-thus it has been through every “ Blood must atone ; A Saviour inter- clime and age. Behold this grand cedes !”

truth darkly shadowed « in all reliAway with fruits and fatlings ! Be- gions, liturgies, and codes" — here HOLD THE Host ! Have faith-do only brought to light ! penance-believe in the intercession

“ Hark from on high The WORD again hath spoken

This is my body, which for you was broken l'
This is my blood ! the miracle is done :
The mystery closed : Hosannah to the Son !

God has received his sacrifice for sin,
And all are ransom'd who partake therein :
As signs by faith received from Heaven attest.

Ye, who believe, depart, repentant, shriven and blest.” Thus it has been through every age and clime-said the Preacher and thus he illustrates the awful meaning, “ in each tradition solemnly enshrined."

“ Ere shepherds hail'd the choir in heaven descried,

Or kings to Bethlehem traced their starry guide:
Alike, where Egypt raised gigantic piles,
Where Greece with Dorian porches graced her isles,
Where Tuscan temples crown'd the hills of Rome,
Or Sion's courts enclosed the holiest dome :
Where reign'd the God whose service thrills these towers ;
Or where mankind had analysed his powers,
Impersonated each, with fancy warm,
Enshrined, and imaged in an idol's form.
When fears, or thanks, or man's insatiate love
To fathom fate and question Heaven above,
On marble steps bow'd supplicating knees;
Where ranks of columns reared on high a frieze,
Which crown'd the temple with a bossy zone,
Of white-robed priests and warriors horsed in stone,
And scenes of opening heaven in pediments were shown.
In front an altar blazed : and hark! with drums,
And clarion's sound, and song, a victim comes :
Some spotless lamb, or heifer white as milk,
Or bull with golden horns array'd in silk,
High peals the choral hymn-responses swell-
Maids quire with youths; and, issuing from the cell,
Stoled in procession, priests descend the stairs,
With garlands, wands, and sacramental prayers;
And compassing the altar, hail, and lead,
With slacken'd cord, the offering up to bleed.
Till then the victim seem'd a thing of earth,
For God's and man's communion nothing worth :
But, silence, all! and hence! profaners, hence !
The oblation now begins, the rites commence.
Bright censers swing! sweet incense mounts the sky,
Vows follow after a Heaven is summon'd nigh.
Lo! when, with ritual works, the girdled priest
Has veil'd his brow, and fronting toward the East,
With hands, first bathed, above the victim spread,
Devoted, hymning as he smites, the head-
. I hallow thee by incense, wine, and bread :'
And mingling blood with incense, bread, and wine,
Transform'd their essence to a sacred sign,
And made all consecrate-made all divine :
Then, then, an expiation came to pass,
An host was shown, a mystery, and a mass :
Death's agonies were witness'd-cups imbued
With blood were tasted, and a feast ensued.”

" And thus it was through every clime and age.

But why? but whence ? Interrogate the sage !
Whence these opinions ? Man's ? Who first conceived,
Where preach'd, how made by other men believed
Opinions, man's self-interest so restricts,
Pity abhors, and reason contradicts ?
Confess ! each source, each origin, ye trace,
Is lost in high primordials of our race :
Devolved from fountains far beyond our reach,
Profound as malter's - dark as those of speech :
Yet spread like them, the same in various modes,
Through all religions, liturgies, and codes;

Famed through all climates, stamp'd on every breast.
How came it thither? Why and whence imprest ?
Sprung forth these rites spontaneous from the sod ?
Then whence? Who placed them here? Who made them ?-God.
Yes, these--blest heritage of all mankind,
In each tradition solemnly eashrined-
These have come down from human nature's birth,
Relics of Heaven's first testament to earth ;
Ruins whose structure proves them used to deck
Some primal temple_fragments of a wreck,
Which witness, drifting o'er the seas of time,

A fabric lost,- how spacious, how sublime!" When time gave Christ incarnate birth, Tue Word wrought a twofold work on earth --revived that lost Apocalypse, and perfected its rites—and thus cries the fervent Preacher

" And thus it shall be through each clime and age,

Let scorners mock it, let the scorning sage
Dispute, let Heresy, let Hell assail
Against this rock, their gates shall not prevail.
This shall endure through every age and clime,

Till the last angel soar and sound the doom of time." These extracts will, of themselves we But ere we enter that dark Divan, think, go far to justify the high opin- our attention is directed to one young ion we have already expressed of the monk, who, while others approved, or author's powers, and they will have censured, or dozed, or dreamed, during prepared you to expect something the sermon, wept! Who was he, and extraordinary in the Chapter-House. whence his tears?

“ And some approved, some censured, others slept,

Or dream'd awake ; but one there was who wept.
Alas! young monk, what withering loss or sin
Has struck that gentle cheek, so pale and thin ?
And oh! what dire misdeed, or dread mish
Yoked to thy neck the collar of La Trappe ?
With vows, on bitterest roots to make thy fare,
Thy night half vigil, all thy morning prayer;
With bloody scourge to discipline thy breast,
To clothe in thorny shirt and steely vest,
To use no lodging but a darksome cave,
No labour but to dig thy daily grave,
And never more give words with man a breath,

Save these, ' Memento mori !-think of death!'
“ Can this be he whose forehead bram'd as day?

Whose heart's high sallies Heaven alone could sway?
Who vied alike to cheer the sport of fools,
Grace pilgrim choirs, and triumph in the schools ?
At moot, no voice with deeper thought could roll;
In song, none sweeter thrill to woman's soul,
Whose snowy breast beat measure to his strain,
And glancing eyes shot after him, in vain :
Whether pride fenced his bosom from their dart,
Or mask'd unworthy flames that wrapt his heart.
For high his birth, though youth obscurely past;
Till haughtiest kinsmen own'd his worth at last;
Earl Esher's towers his nephew's entrance hail'd-
But, ah! Heaven call’d him, and its voice prevail'd!"


His birth, we are told, was high, converted during a night of dreadful though his youth obscurely passed ; and and mysterious tempest. in some lines, hardly intelligible, (light “ From that dread night, he changed in is thrown on them afterwards,) we are voice and brow, given to understand that he had been Christ all his hope, the cloister all his vow:

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