Here prejudice, not reason, suspended the influence of the
passions; and scholastic learning, mysterious philosophy, and crafty
sanctity supplied the place of wisdom, simplicity, and pure devotion.

At the abbey, solitude and stillness conspired with the solemn aspect
of the pile to impress the mind with religious awe. The dim glass of
the high-arched windows, stained with the colouring of monkish
fictions, and shaded by the thick trees that environed the edifice,
spread around a sacred gloom, which inspired the beholder with
congenial feelings.

As Julia mused through the walks, and surveyed this vast monument of
barbarous superstition, it brought to her recollection an ode which
she often repeated with melancholy pleasure, as the composition of
Hippolitus.

SUPERSTITION AN ODE

High mid Alverna's awful steeps,
Eternal shades, and silence dwell.
Save, when the gale resounding sweeps,
Sad strains are faintly heard to swell: Enthron'd amid the wild impending rocks,
Involved in clouds, and brooding future woe,
The demon Superstition Nature shocks,
And waves her sceptre o'er the world below. Around her throne, amid the mingling glooms,
Wild--hideous forms are slowly seen to glide,
She bids them fly to shade earth's brightest blooms,
And spread the blast of Desolation wide. See! in the darkened air their fiery course!
The sweeping ruin settles o'er the land,
Terror leads on their steps with madd'ning force,
And Death and Vengeance close the ghastly band! Mark the purple streams that flow!
Mark the deep empassioned woe!
Frantic Fury's dying groan!
Virtue's sigh, and Sorrow's moan! Wide--wide the phantoms swell the loaded air
With shrieks of anguish--madness and despair! Cease your ruin! spectres dire!
Cease your wild terrific sway!
Turn your steps--and check your ire,
Yield to peace the mourning day!