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A SCENE IN THE STAR CHAMBER. 11 lords,” wound up the chancellor, “shall not all that hear these things, think that it is the mercy of the king that Mr. Prynn is not cut off? This book is in print, it tendeth to bring magistrates into dislike with the people, and yet, my lords, it pleaseth his majesty to let the writer have a trial here! If it do agree with the court, I do adjudge Mr. Prynn to have his book burned by the hangman. I do adjudge Mr. Prynn to be put from the bar. I do condemn Mr. Prynn to stand in the pillory and lose both his ears; and lastly, I do condemn him in 15,000 fine to the king, and perpetual imprisonment. “A trifling nota bene, that!

The next, in course, who spoke, was the lord chief justice Richardson.

“We are troubled here with a book, a monster (monstrum horrendum, informe ingens!) -For the book I do hold it a most scandalous, infamous libel to the king's majesty, a most pious and religious king; to the queen's majesty, a most excellent and gracious queen. I protest unto your lordships it maketh my heart to swell, and my blood in my veins to boil, (so cold as I am) to see this or any thing attempted which may endanger my gracious sovereign. It is to me the greatest comfort in the world to behold his prosperity.— Not to hold your lordships any longer, my lords, it is a most wicked, infamous, scandalous, and seditious libel. Mr. Prynn, I must now come to my sentence, wherein I agree with my lord Cottington as he began very well the burning the book and putting its author from the profession of the bar. And for the pillory I hold it just and equal; so do I agree too to the 50007. fine; and perpetual imprisonment I do think fit for him, and to be restrained from writing, neither to have pen, ink, nor paper; yet let him have some pretty prayer book to pray to God to forgive him his sins.”

Then spake the earl of Dorset, the queen's chamberlain; and as his speech was twice as  long as that made by any of his associates, so was it more thickly strewn with the roses of court flattery, and the thistles of reproach against the prisoner. “If any,” said the lord chamberlain, “casts aspersions on his majesty's dear consort, our royal queen, and my gracious mistress, silence would prove impiety in me that do daily contemplate her virtues. Were all such saints as she, I think the Roman church were not to be condemned; the candour of her life is a more powerful motive than all precepts; no hand of fortune or of power can hurt her; her heart is full of honour; majesty, mildness, and meekness are married in her soul; and so, when I have said all in her praise, I can never say enough of her excellency, in the relation whereon an orator nor a poet lie. Mr. Prynn, your iniquity is full, it runs over it is not Mr. Attorney that calls for judgment against you, but it is all mankind.-Mr. Prynn, I do declare you to be a schismmaker, a sedition sower, a wolf in sheep's clothing; in a word, omnium malorum nequissimus. 1 shall fine him ten thousand pounds. I will no more set him at liberty than a mad dog. He is

not a sociable soul he is not a rational soul he is fit to live in dens with beasts of prey like himself. Therefore I do condemn him to perpetual imprisonment. Now for corporal punishment, whether should I burn him in the forehead, or slit him in the nose? I should be loth he should escape with his ears, for he may get a perriwig, which he now so much inveighs against, and so hide them, or force his conscience to make use of his unlovely love locks on both sides. Therefore I would have his ears cropt too.”

And, in the course of a few days, that part of the sentence which related to the bodily butchery, was carried into effect; but, with so little converting influence upon Prynn's opinions, that we find him, about three years afterwards, brought before the star chamber to receive sentence for fresh libels, fashioned during his abode in prison. The second sentence added branding to cutting his ears yet closer to the cheek. Good old times! THE ARCTIC DOVE. BY BOWRING.

Ride on;-the ark, majestic and alone On the wide waste of the careering deep, Its hull scarce peering through the night of clouds, Is seen. But, lo! the mighty deep has shrunk! The ark, from its terrific voyage, rests, On Ararat. The raven is sent forth Send out the dove-and as her wings far off Shine in the light, and streaks the sev'ring clouds, Bid her speed on, and greet her with a song—

Go, beautiful and gentle dove, But whither wilt thou go? For though the clouds ride high above, How sad and waste is all below!

The wife of Shem, a moment to her breast Held the poor bird and kiss'd it. Many a night When she was listening to the hollow wind," She pressed it to her bosom, with a tear; Or, when it murmur'd in her hand, forgot The long loud tumult of the storm without She kisses it, and, at her father's word, Bids it go forth.

The dove flies on! In lonely flight She flies from dawn till dark; And now amid the gloom of night, Comes weary to the ark. Oh let me in, she seems to say, For long and lone hath been my way; Oh! once more, gentle mistress, let me rest, And dry my dripping plumage on thy breast.

So the bird flew to her who cherished it,- She sent it forth again out of the ark; Again it came at ev'ning fall, and, lo, An olive leaf plucked off, and in its bill; And Shem's wife took the green leaf from its bill, And kiss'd its wings again, and smilingly Dropp'd on its neck one silent tear for joy. She sent it forth once more; and watch'd its flight, Till it was lost amid the clouds of heaven; Then gazing on the clouds where it was lost, Its mournful mistress sung this last farewell:-

Go, beautiful and gentle dove, And greet the morning ray; For, lo! the sun shines bright above, And night and storm are pass'd away! No longer drooping, here confined , In this cold prison dwell: Go, free to sunshine and to wind, Sweet bird, go forth, and fare thee well.

Oh! beautiful and gentle dove, Thy welcome sad will be, When thou shalt hear no voice of love In murmurs from the leafy tree; Yet freedom, freedom, shalt thou find, From this cold prison's cell; Go, then, to sunshine and the wind, Sweet bird, go forth and fare thee well.