a awh | 
1828. ] Court of Chancery. 385 
of his judicial functions. With this, and the several other topics we have 
touched on, we think we have glanced at some of the more prominent of 
the measures to be adopted for infusing new vigor into the powers of 
the court, and here we complete our brief sketch of its morale. 
In the first of our papers on this subject, we proposed to lay bare the 
seat of disease, and we trust we have redeemed our pledge. If we have 
truth on our side (and we have spoken as those “having authority,”) it 
is obvious that gentle medicines and soothing palliatives will be about 
as efficacious as breathing over a limb up to which mortification was 
crawling. Indeed such remedies would be productive rather of mis- 
chief than of good ; like opiates, lulling the consciousness of pain, they 
would only leave the disease to acquire fresh strength, and already it bids 
defiance to all but the boldest application of the knife. That a length of 
time, however, will elapse, before this, or any other part of our jurispru- 
dence shall be placed on a system of thorough adaptation to its ends, 
’ the moral aspect of the country bids us too clearly foresee. That the 
time will at length arrive, we may almost as certainly predict. 
THE EVENING STAR. 
Tue chimes have rung from yon church-tower, 
The honey-bee has left the flower, 
The hushed wind sleeps, the leaves are still, 
And, high o’er bleak Llansaddon’s hill, 
Gleams from his watch-tower, faint—afar— 
The hermit-natured Evening Star ! 
Heralding to night’s wizard noon 
‘The coming of the zenith moon. 
Sweet Star! to thee, ’mid ruins grey, 
The owl hoots forth a boding lay ; 
To thee, ‘mid lanes retired and shy, 
The twinkling glow-worm lifts her eye ; 
To thee the wanderer turns, and hears 
The uplifted voice of other years 
Sweep o’er his soul in solemn tone ;— 
Then, sadly-musing, weeps to own 
How hopes have withered, friends have changed— 
Some dead, some distant, some estranged— _~ 
Since last within his native stream 
He marked, sweet orb! thine imaged beam, 
And drew in thought’s attempered power 
A moral from the scene and hour. 
Emblem of Hope and Holiness! ' 
What heart but must thy beauty bless ? 
What eye but recognize in thee 
+ Some germ of unknown deity ? 
A soul divine illumes thy rays, 
Eternity is in thy gaze ; 
Thy smile the first musician fired, 
The first young poet’s muse inspired, 
M.M. New Serics.—Vou. VI. No. 34. 3D 
