he seems an adept. But let us cast our eye, quoth he, on the overhanging hedges; and with equal enthusiasm and knowledge he descants on the botany of the parish. The following is surely a very beautiful passage : "I wish I could shew that beautiful small red flower that in spring shoots as if ambitious of shewing itself through the green under the unfrequented hedges and Makes so gay the solitary place, Where no eye sees it.'-CowPER. "It is now gone with its sisters, the violets; but we want not beauty, for look, as far as the eye can see, in July, the whole bank is radiant with the purple bloom of a geranium, as beautiful as any of the five hundred of the same species which the Historian of the county in his sumptuous green-house can boast; which smile there in rows, and seem to look consciously on each other like fine gentlemen and ladies, despising the rustic, but beautiful, peasant. flower of the fields. This geranium, so abundant in our hedges, is called botanically, I believe, geranium campestre, and it unites the elegance of the cultivated geranium with the simplicity of the hedgeprimrose. There is also the geranium columbinum vulgare, flore minore cœruleo. And now, reader, ' you are welcome to Maud Heath's stone.' "We will here, at this corner of the road, turn short to the left, and winding a small circuit, cross, by the village path-way, the glebe-lands, which are sprinkled with wood like a small park. From hence we look down on the village, and the church, and parsonage; and from this stile the old massy grey tower of the church is seen most prominently among the elms before us." Here we are, then, in view of the Church and Parsonage ; but before entering the one or the other, let us hear Mr Bowles descant on the character of such edifices. In open and extensive down countries, he remarks, the only spire, seen at a distance in the haze of morning, appears to have had its use in directing the traveller when lost. Salisbury spire is seen in almost every direction, at nearly thirty miles distance. Tilbury, in Gloucestershire, and the various steeples in the levels of Leicestershire and Lincolnshire, present the same pleasing variety in a flat uniform country. Shenstone has sketched such a picture very pleasantly, in his sweet poem, "The SchoolMistress" "In every village mark'd by little spire, Embower'd in trees, and hardly known to fame," &c. The massy square tower, with buttresses and battlements, has a more solemn effect in a rich and cultivated country, and gives a peculiarly interesting character to eminences that are not sufficiently elevated or aspiring, to become picturesque themselves. A slender spire, or battlemented tower, harmonize equally well when partially discovered above surrounding woods. Nothing can equal in picturesque beauty the towers and churches in Somersetshire. Banwell Church, as a parochial edifice, is perhaps the most perfect in the kingdom. "Towers and battlements it sees, "And O, ye swelling hills, and spacious plains! Of bigot zeal madly to overturn; But let Mr Bowles describe, in his own beautiful language, his own beautiful church, "But we can now look nearer at this sacred building before us. Besides the square massy tower, it consists of a large porch, above which, now devoted to silence and the bats, the small village school was held before the Reformation. The ceiling was lately dismantled of two centuries of white-wash, and the figures, which had been so splashed over, that it was impossible to know what was intended, stand out in elegant stone carving, an emblematical lamb among the vines! The united roses of the houses of York and Lancaster, ascertain that the porch was an addition to the church, in the reign probably of Henry the Seventh. The windows of the side aisles, north and south, are of the kind called Tudor arches; the large window, at the end of the chancel, was a mere common square window, looking as if it belonged to a barn rather than to a church. This has been formed into a window more in unison with the rest of the building, by adding Gothic compartments of handsome stone work on the top. "But the elegant small turret with which the church-roof terminates on the top, must not be forgotten; a small opening is left for the bell, which rung the early villager to prayer before he began work. Though the bell has been silent for centuries, and the aperture only remains, the form of the small projection where it hung gives a graceful finish to the roof. This projection was surmounted by a small cross. "Before we enter the building, let us look down on the stone that lies directly under our feet, in the porch. In the year 1818, the Rev. Edward Lambert, of the family of Lamberts of Boyton, who married the eldest sister of the writer of this account, having expressed a wish to be buried at Bremhill, was here deposited. I regretted afterwards that this spot was se lected, for in digging the grave a stone coffin was found lying across the porch, east and west, containing possibly the bones of the founder, or some benefactor. This stone coffin was unfortunately broken, but the bones, of course, carefully deposited in the place of their ancient sepulture. "The old seats of free-stone, on either side the porch, are deeply worn. These seats are therefore evidently of an age long prior to the porch itself. "The door is very old, and surrounded by curious carved work; and, as slowly opens, we remark on either side of the aisle, large pillars, with small capitals, which are probably Norman. These pillars are four on each side, the capitals varying, and apparently coeval with the ancient font. "Between the aisle and chancel stands an entire and elegant rood-loft, beautifully carved with lattice work, bending over in a small arch above, on the centre of which stood, before the Reformation, the rood or large crucifix of wood, with a row of saints on each side, as thus described in the old ballad : "Oh! hold thy peace, I pray thee, So bravely set with saints "The Virgin and St John stood on each side. There is a small stair-case for the priest to ascend; and the under arch, beneath this small gallery, is curiously stud ded by what were evidently intended to represent stars, so that the arch being paint ed blue, and the stars of gold, the coping might represent the firmament, above which appeared the cross.” Mr Bowles then conducts us into the chancel, and points out some remarkable memorials of those long passed away. Before leaving the sanctuary. of the dead, he turns over some leaves of the parish register-then launches into a critical eulogy on the parochial Psalmody, and the Choir Service, exhibiting a thorough knowledge of music and musicians; and concludes with a few chords on the organ, to a verse in one of the most affecting and beautiful anthems of that composer, (Pur cell) whose name on a country church marble occasioned part of his remarks. "Oh, pray for the peace of Jerusalem! They shall prosper that love thee!"' Issuing again into the open air, our poet expatiates on the churchyardmemorials of the dead-ancient tombs by the way-side-ancient inscriptions Jortin's beautiful lines inspired by the representation on the Barbarini vase and churchyard inscriptions. He concludes with a few epitaphs, written by himself for the young and the aged dead among his own parishioners-some of which are exceedingly touching and appropriate. Thus, On an old Soldier, aged 92. "A poor old soldier shall not lie unknown, Though ninety winters on his head had snow'd. Poets, however, are not always greatly admired in their own parish; and Mr Bowles' epitaphs are amenable to the criticism of a modern and rural Aristarchus. An epitaph of his, on an aged father and mother, written in the character of a most exemplary son-the father living to eighty-seven years-ran thus "My father-my poor mother-both are gone, When this was shewn to the stone- critics in his time,) he observed, that the lines might do with a little alteration-thus "My father, and my mother too, are dead, Having thus taken a survey of the parish of Bremhill, and a view of the parish church, we come at last to the Parsonage. But before we allow you to look at it, you must hear Mr Bowles, for a few minutes, on the character of the English parsonage-house and garden. Among the buildings appropriated to residences, which are scattered over the English landscape, and form the chief features of almost every vil lage, may be distinguished, he well says, the nobleman's seat-the old baronial house-the parsonage-the ornamented cottage-and the cottage of the village labourer; to which may be added a non-descript style of building, very aptly designated" a folly." These have all their distinguishing characteristics. Before speak ing of the architectural appearance and character of the parsonage, he says a few words on the modern castle. Here is a very fine passage:abrupt hills, and dark sweeping woods, in"In a wild and picturesque country, with cluding a vast extent of territorial domain, a castellated mansion might appear appro priate, as more picturesque; but in all modern structures of this kind, however picturesque or magnificent in themselves, there appears something not exactly in accordance with our ideas of propriety. The dislike probably arises from this cause. A vast baronial castle, in times of perfect security, appears like a massy fiction. It is the idea of defence which gives any castle its most appropriate interest. Its clustering towers, its shade of buttresses, its range of battlements, as far as mere pictures are concerned, must be the same to the eye, whether the castle be old or new. But take away the associations, which the least thought must instantly do, the ideas connected with appropriateness instantly vanish. "In the next place, massiveness and extent appear so necessary, that, in all modern attempts of the kind, the mind feels that something is always deficient; it is not large, it is not massy enough! But, supposing a castle as large and massy, and magnificent, as that of Windsor were now built, it would not be congenial to our feelings, because all harmonizing associations are cut off. Even Windsor Castle loses a great deal of its architectural impression (if I may use that word) by the smooth neatness with which its old towers are now chiselled and mortared. It looks as if it was washed every morning with soap and water, instead of exhibiting here and there a straggling flower, or creeping weather-stains. I believe this circumstance strikes every beholder; but most imposing, indeed, is its distant view, when the broad banner floats or sleeps in the sunshine, amidst the intense blue of the summer skies, and its picturesque and ancient architectural vastness harmonizes with the decaying and gnarled oaks, coeval with so many departed monarchs. The stately long-extended avenue, and the wild sweep of devious forests, connected with the eventful circumstances of English history, and past regular grandeur, bring back the memory of Edwards and Henrys, or the gallant and accomplished Surrey. On Windsor Custle, written 1825, not by a LAUREATE, but a poet of loyal, old Church-of-England feelings: * "Not that thy name, illustrious dome, recalls I gaze upon your antique towers and pray But that my SOVEREIGN here, from crowds withdrawn, Winding through lawns, and woods, and pastures green,) A KING'S BEST GLORY IS HIS COUNTRY'S LOVE!" "The range of cresting towers have a double interest, whilst we think of gorgeous dames and barons bold, of Lely's and Vandyke's beauties, and gay, and gallant, and accomplished cavaliers like Surrey. And who ever sat in the stalls at St George's chapel, without feeling the impression, on looking at the illustrious names, that here the royal and ennobled knights, through so many generations, sat each installed, whilst arms, and crests, and banners, glittered over the same seat? "But, to leave princely residences, times of social comfort and security demand, we might say, buildings for residence in unison with ideas of comfort and security in society. Some chord within us jars, when a castle, whose primary idea is that of defence, in an age of turbulence, stands in solitary grandeur, as if to awe the country round, when scarce a hen-roost fears nightly invasion. "We have few remaining manorial houses earlier than the times of Elizabeth or James. These are, from their windows and chimneys, picturesque, and commonly built adjoining the church. Other buildings for residence have each their peculiar distinctive features, and we shall, therefore, turn from the residence of the nobleman or country gentleman to 'The village Parson's modest mansion.' "The first idea which such a building ought to excite, is undoubtedly its unobtrusiveness, justly characterised by Goldsmith, who has also so affectionately pourtrayed its retired inmate, by the word modest." "Secondly, it seems obvious that it should, in outward appearance, harmonize with the church. But what can be so remote from the idea of a parsonage house as that Turnham-Green structure, which we The author had been chaplain to the Prince Regent. Surrey's poems. often see, consisting, on each side, of two rooms, sixteen or eighteen feet square, with no appearance, in the character of the edifice, to designate the residence of a clergyman, except its proximity to the church !" We come now to the subject of this article, the Parsonage-house of the parish of Bremhill. Lo! here is a view of the north front, given originally in Mr Britton's Beauties of Wiltshire. How beautiful-how decent-how humble-how elegant-how sweethow solemn, with its tall chimneys, its cool porches, its various-sized win dows, irregular roof, acute-angled gable-ends, graceful turret cross-crowned, the whole parapetted with a simple Gothic ornamental railing, by which unity has been given to the whole exterior, and the long low roofs have put on a truly ecclesiastical appearance! In cathedral towns, the residence of prebendaries and canons are, in general, remote from charac teristic propriety. But here, in this pleasant parsonage, the ideas of consonance and picturesque propriety have been consulted-the house being old, but large and convenient. "The garden contains upwards of two acres, with a gravel walk under the windows. A Gothic porch has been added, the bow-windows being surmounted with the same kind of parapet as the house, somewhat more ornamental. It lies to the morning sun; the road to the house, on the north, enters through a large arch. The garden is on a slope, commanding views of the surrounding country, with the tower of Calne in front, the woods of Bowood on the right, and the mansion and woods of Walter Heneage, Esq. towards the south. The view to the south-east is terminated by the last chalky cliffs of the Marlborough downs, extending to within a few miles of Swindon. In the garden, a winding path from the gravel walk, in front of the house, leads to a small piece of water, originally a square pond. "This walk, as it approaches the water, leads into a darker shade, and descending some steps, placed to give a picturesque appearance to the bank, you enter a kind of cave, with a dripping rill, which falls into the water below, whose bank is broken by thorns, and hazels, and poplars, among darker shrubs. Here an urn appears with the following inscription :— M. S. Henrici Bowles, qui ad Calpen, febre ibi exitiali grassante, publicè missus, ipse miserrimè periit-1804. Fratri po suit. Passing round the water, you come to an arched walk of hazels, which leads again to the green in front of the house, where, dipping a small slope, the path passes near an old and ivied elm. As this seat looks on the magnificent line of Bowood park and plantations, the obvious thought could not be well avoided :When in thy sight another's vast domain Spreads its dark sweep of woods, dost thou com Nay! rather thank the God who placed thy state plain? Above the lowly, but beneath the great; "The walk leads round a plantation of shrubs, to the bottom of the lawn, from whence is seen a fountain, between a laurel sun-dial appears among beds of flowers, arch; and through a dark passage a grey opposite the fountain. "The sun-dial, a small antique twisted column, grey with age, was probably the dial of the abbot of Malmesbury, and counted his hours when at the adjoining lodge; for it was taken from the garden of the farm-house, which had originally been the summer retirement of this mitred lord. It has the appearance of being monastic, but a more ornate capital has been added, the plate on which bears the date of 1688. I must again venture to give the appropriate inscription : To count the brief and unreturning hours, This Sun-Dial was placed among the flowers, Which came forth in their beauty-smiled and Blooming and withering round its ancient side. Mortal, thy day is passing-see that Flower, And think upon the Shadow and the Hour! died, "The whole of the small green slope is here dotted with beds of flowers; a step, into some rock-work, leads to a kind of hermit's oratory, with crucifix and stained glass, built to receive the shattered fragof Stanley Abbey, before spoken of. ments, as their last asylum, of the pillars the rock-work into a large shell, the gift "The dripping water passes through of a valued friend, the author of the Pleasures of Memory; and I add, with less hesitation, the inscription, because it was furnished by the author of the Pains of Memory,' a poem, in its kind, of the most exquisite harmony and fancy, though the author has long left the bowers of the muses, and the harp of music, for the severe professional duties of the bar. I have some pride in mentioning the name of Peregrine Bingham, being a near relation, as well as rising in character and fame at the bar. The verses will speak for themselves, and are not unworthy his muse whose cription is placed over the large Indianpoem suggested the comparisons. The inshell. Snatch'd from an Indian ocean's roar, I drink the whelming tide no more; But in this rock, remote and still, Now serve to pour the murmuring rill. Listen! Do thoughts awake, which long have slept Oh! like his song, who placed me here, The sweetest song to Memory dear, When life's tumultuous storms are past, May we, to such sweet music, close at last The eye-lids that have wept!' 3 |