And armed herself to bear.—
It was a fearful sight to see
Such high resolve and constancy,
In form so soft and fair.

"I speak not to implore your grace,
Well know I for one minute's space
Successless might I sue :

Nor do I speak your prayers to gain;
For if a death of lingering pain,
To cleanse my sins be penance vain,
Vain are your masses too.—

I listened to a traitor's tale,

I left the convent and the veil,
For three long years I bowed my pride
A horse-boy in his train to ride.

That you should wish the fiery Dane
Had rather been your guest again.
Behind a darker hour ascends!
The altars quake, the crosier bends,
The ire of a despotic king

Rides forth upon destruction's wing;
Then shall these vaults so large and deep
Burst open to the sea-wind's sweep;
Some traveller then shall find my bones,
Whitening amid disjointed stones,
And, ignorant of priests' cruelty,
Marvel such relics here should be."

Fixed was her look and stern her air;
Back from her shoulders streamed her hair;
The locks that wont her brow to shade,
Stood up erectly from her head;
Her figure seemed to rise more high
Her voice, despair's wild energy
Had given a tone of prophecy.
Appalled the astonished conclave sate,
With stupid eyes, the men of fate
Gazed on the light inspired form;
And listened for the avenging storm;
The judges felt the victim's dread,
No hand was moved, no word was said,
Till thus the Abbot's doom was given,
Raising his sightless balls to heaven:
"Sister, let thy sorrows cease;
Sinful brother, part in peace!

From that dire dungeon, place of doom,
Of execution too, and tomb,

Paced forth the judges three;
Sorrow it were, and shame, to tell
The butcher-work that there befel,
When they had glided from the cell
Of sin and misery.

An hundred winding steps convey
That conclave to the upper day;
But, ere they breathed the fresher air,
They heard the shriekings of despair,
And many a stifled groan :

With speed their upward way they take,

(Such speed as age and fear can make,)
And crossed themselves for terror's sake,
As hurrying tottering on.

Even in the vesper's heavenly tone,
They seemed to hear a dying groan,
And bade the passing knell to toll
For welfare of a parting soul.
Slow o'er the midnight wave it swung,
Northumbrian rocks in answer rung;
To Warkworth cell the echoes rolled,
His beads the wakeful hermit told ;
The Bamborough peasant raised his head.
But slept ere half a prayer he said,
So far was heard the mighty knell,
The stag sprung up on Cheviot Fell,
Spread his broad nostrils to the wind,
Listed before, aside, behind;

Then couched him down beside the hind,
And quaked among the mountain fern,
To hear that sound so dull and stern.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

Two haggard monks in this awful and melancholy picture are arrayed in "Benedictine dress." The different orders of monks first originated in some religious men who retired from all business and collected about them others disposed like themselves. These persons lived and associated together, possessed the same property, and followed nearly the same occupations. Those who joined their society, one after another, and followed them, generation after generation, took the name of the first founder of the society. This person was afterwards called a Saint. Saint Benedict, Saint Francis, Saint Dominick, were distinguished Fathers of the religious orders in the Catholic Church. The words Benedictine, Franciscan, and Dominican, signify persons severally attached to the orders or institutions of these priests.

Among different orders of the Catholic priesthood, the Jesuits —the order of Jesus—is the most extraordinary. The history of the Jesuits and of their founder Ignatius Loyola, is highly interesting to those who are sufficiently matured and experienced to understand the effects produced by a great genius in designing great things, and the still greater results which numbers of men acting with untiring energy and united wills, can accomplish.

Constance first threatens her judges with the vengeance of Marmion, when "late remorse" should revive his affection for her; and her voice, taking the "tone of prophecy," foretold that yet a "darker hour" than his provoked spirit could hasten, awaited them in "the ire of a despotic King." This despotic King was Henry the VIII.

When the Romans possessed Britain they doubtless brought the Intelligence of Christianity with them, and Christian converts must have been made in Britain, but how much this Christianity prevailed is not now known. The Saxon masters of Britain, who succeeded the Romans, brought with them the tyranny of ignorance and of physical power; and Christianity was so little regarded after the time of the Saxon domination, that the Popes of Rome considered Britain among the waste places of Heathenism, and sent thither one of the first Christian missions upon record.

About the year 596, Pope Gregory I. sent St. Augustine, or Austin, with forty monks, to instruct the people of Britain in the Christian religion. England and Wales at that time were divided into different principalities. Ethelred, king of Kent, was among the first proselytes of Augustine, and became an important aid to his purposes. Augustine was a spiritual governor as well as teacher, and the baptized converts, and established churches and ministers from Kent to Northumberland; he also penetrated into Wales, where he found a form of Christianity more simple than the Romish faith. It had been learned in the second century after Christ from the Romans, and was still cherished.

Augustine was without humility, and expected to be acknowledged by all the inhabitants of Britain, as head of the English church under the Pope. The Welsh, not comprehending the authority of the Pope and Saint Austin, thought fit to reject it, and the saint denounced vengeance upon them. A King of Northumberland took upon himself the accomplishment of this threat, and without affording them time for defence, slaughtered about twelve hundred of the Welsh Christians. Fear, as well as confidence, served to establish the Catholic religion, and after the sixth century was acknowledged in Britain, by the Kings and the people.

From this time large grants and gifts enriched and multiplied monasteries or religious houses, and they continued to increase in power and wealth for nearly a thousand years. Increase of their power, however, received several checks. Reformers at different times lifted up their voices. Wickliffe and Lord Cobham declared for religious liberty. King Henry II, and Ed

ward III. restrained ecclesiastical power, and the scriptures were translated.

At the beginning of the sixteenth century, Pope Leo X. was engaged in building that wonder of modern architecture, St. Peter's diurch at Rome, and in order to obtain money for the accomplishment of that expensive undertaking, he gave a commission to certain Catholic Priests to sell indulgences, and send the profits to him at Rome. These Indulgences were privileges to commit actions forbidden by the laws and the Gospel, without liability to punishment in this world, or another. The impossibility that any human sovereign could discharge his fellow men from the laws of his Maker, made multitudes of almost all Catholic countries distrust the authority of the Pope, and made the religious establishments less venerable in all the countries, which afterwards became Protestant.

Henry VIII. adhered to the ceremonies of Popery all his life, but he was a most powerful enemy to the Pope's authority in Britain. Henry caused himself to be declared by the parliament the Protector and independent head of the church of England. In virtue of this authority, Henry caused a visitation to be made to all the convents, and a report of their condition to be published. This account, perhaps with too little regard to truth, gave a most 'detestable character to the monasteries, so that the public mind was easily reconciled to their suppression. Not long after the visitation, three hundred and seventy-six houses were suppressed, and the lands and other property attached to them were confiscated, or applied by the King to public uses.

The new appropriation of the wealth of the Church did not stop here, for the number of religious houses of different kinds that were suppressed has been estimated to be six hundred and forty-three convents, and more than two thousand small establishments for worship, education, and charity. It is impossible that much distress should not have attended such a sweeping remedy of real or supposed abuses, and well might Constance give that lively personification of the monarch's anger which led to these illustrations.

The altars quake, the crosier bend. The altars which Catholic superstition has erected shall be shaken. The Crosier is a staff surmounted by a cross. It was carried by Catholic bishops as a symbol of ecclesiastical power—those who bore it might dread the time when it should be bent in subjection to the reformed religion.

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