carried on upon strictly sound principles; funds for church-building amassed; and church artists trained in devotional as well as professional habits. The writer has only to add, that he could have wished to give a list of instances in which sacrilege has been signally punished in this world. But such a list, to be of any value, would have swelled this little volume far beyond his designs. Sir Henry Spelman's works will amply furnish such an one : and it is the writer's hope to publish at no distant period a collection of 'God's judgements on Church Violators,' as well from those, as from other, sources. FUNCHAL, MADEIRA, Ember-Saturday in Lent, 1843. CORRIGENDA. The absence of the writer from England must excuse several errata, of which the following are the most important: Page 4, line 4, for portraietures read pourtraictures 9, 29, 37, 83, 89, 122, 125, 135, 151, 183, 6, insert and after vice 15, for antlers read anthers 5, point thus; some left for ears, some auditors, need. 11, for band read kind 21, for sticketh read skilleth 14, for setting read selling 14, after attached add to you 4, for examiners read examinees 9, for leave read leaving 8, for gay read grey 3, for waiting read writing AYTON PRIORY; OR, THE RESTORED MONASTERY. CHAPTER I. pure and uncompounded beauties blesse The lord and lady of the place delight Rather to be, indeed, than seem in sight. CAREW. THERE are few prettier villages among the lovely hamlets of England than that of Monk Teynton, as it meets the eye of the traveller, when he first gazes on its tall spire and quiet valley. You have the picturesque village street, with the red sandstone of the cottage walls, the well-thatched eaves, the thick chimneystacks, the trellised porches; you see, beautiful even in its ruins, the village cross: and the cot B tagers' gardens, trimmed into quaintly shaped beds with borders of box, are gay with roses, or honeysuckles, or dahlias, according to the time of year, and betoken a kind landlord and industrious tenants. The grey old church, with its steep roof and intricate windows, and glass tinged with all the hues of the rainbow, is a rich prize to the sketch-book of the lovers of architectural beauty; and opposite to it, but half concealed by a shrubbery of birch, and laburnums, and lilac, is the modest parsonage, with its green gate and shady gravel walk. Beyond it, the lane winds on by the side of Teynton Park, a worthy example of what the seat of a country gentleman should be. Here are the sunk fence, the undulating expanse of turf, the giant oaks or chestnuts that stand here and there like solitary sentinels, the red fallow deer that glance in the sun, as they hurry from one glade to another, the old Elizabethan house, with its square-headed windows, stone mullions, and Corinthian doorway, the preserve of game, the silvery river that glides winding through the park. Well might the noble mansion and the broad demesne sometimes force from the passer-by the thought— Sir John Morley must be a happy man. But that which, in the opinion of the good folks of Monk Teynton, was the glory of their village-and they were right-was Ayton Priory. It had been a Cistercian house, and occupied, as such always did, the loveliest spot for miles around. Situated where the river, by a sudden bend, left a "coin of van tage" for such a building, the modest refectory and lofty church tower were reflected in the quiet waters; and the cloister ran across them on a bridge of three fair arches. Many a religious man, sick of the vanity and tumults of the world, had here dedicated the evening of his days to God; many an one, happier than he, had here rested him all his life long; and many, whose labours of love had endeared them to the villagers around, but whose piety and humility were known only to their Maker, slept in the hallowed aisles, and left behind them only their names, and their humble prayer for mercy. The prior and monk were laid side by side; and some, who had borne arms for the cross, and signalized themselves by deeds of valour against the cruel Saracen, craved as a favour to "lay their bones beside the bones" of the ecclesiasticks. The last prior but one, filled as it were with a presentiment of coming evil, caused the words to be added to his brazen legend, "For ye tender mercie of Jhesu let them rest in peace." With a hundred other richer foundations, Ayton Priory was bestowed by Henry VIII. on Lord Cromwell; and the agent whom he employed in turning the estate into money, gloated over the treasure which the abbey church presented to his sacrilegious eyes. "I think," so he wrote to his infamous employer, "that your lordship did never see more curiously wrought work, both of tapestry and hangings, embroidery and vestments, pixes and thuribles, chalicys and lamps, than bee in this place. I have thought fit to make a note of such, to the intent that your honour may know both its riches and my diligence. There were eight great tombes of alabaster, diversely carvyd with cherubim and saints, also with the portraietures of them that were buried in them, all wrought to the life. These, with notable payns, we brake down o' Monday last; and the alabaster I did give to Gregory Digges, the bricklayer, for his trouble, to make lime of. Also ten or twelve brasses, which we tost up, and which bee for the melting pot. Item, five chalicys, silver gilt, set with rubys stones; a reliquary, chacyd very curiously, and inlaid with certain gemmes. Item, two crosses of golde, and three of silver. Now we are a pullyng down the lead from the roof, of which I shall in due tyme advertise your honour. And so," continued the impious wretch, "I commende you to the keepynge of Almighty God." Verily, "it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living GOD": and so both the spoilers of our abbey churches and their inferior agents found, when it was too late. In this world, they for the most part perished by miserable ends, leaving a name clogged with infamy, and a family oppressed by beggary; and in the world to come-but it is not for us to anticipate the judgments of Him to Whom vengeance belongeth. For three hundred years, Ayton Priory passed in rapid succession from one family to another, and seemed, into the possession of whomsoever it might fall, to bring misfortune and ruin with it. It became |