CHAPTER XI.
To give implicit credence to each tale
Of monkish legends,—relics to order;
To think God honored by the cowl or veil,
Regardless who, or what, the emblem wore,
Indeed is mockery, mummery, nothing more:
But if cold Scepticism usurp the place
That Superstition held in days of yore,
We may not be in much more hopeful case
Than if we still implored the Virgin Mary's grace.
Some days since, I left the metropolis to fulfil a few engagements to visit provincial towns; and after a ride of nearly eight hours, we were in sight of the ancient city of York. It was night, the moon was in her zenith, and there seemed nothing between her and the earth but glittering cold. The moon, the stars, and the innumerable gas-lights, gave the city a panoramic appearance. Like a mountain starting out of a plain, there stood the cathedral in its glory, looking down upon the surrounding buildings, with all the appearance of a Gulliver standing over the Lilliputians. Night gave us no opportunity to view the minster. However, we were up the next morning before the sun, and walking round the
