These structures are generally supposed to have been built with astronomical allusions, especially the noble temple at Stonehenge. Circular temples existed among the Israelites. In Exodus, c. xxiv. v. 4, it is written that "Moses rose up early in the morning, and builded an altar under the hill, and twelve pillars." Again in Joshua, iv. 9, Joshua set up twelve stones; and it is well worthy of remark, that the twelve pillars of Moses and Joshua correspond with the number of stones of the inner circles at Abury. It is possible that these stones were plastered over, and probably highly ornamented, as in Deuteronomy, xxvii. 2, we read, "Thou shalt set thee up great stones, and plaster them with plaster;" and there is a large, upright stone in Ireland, which, according to the legend of the country, was once covered over with gold. On some of these pillars it is likewise probable that certain characters were traced, as among the Israelites words of the law were written upon similar obelisks or columns.

The earliest temples in Greece were formed of obeliscal columns; and in some parts of Africa the custom obtains to this day. Hence the pillars of our present temples are the most ancient; and subsequent builders of holy sanctuaries filled up the intercolumniations till the temples were constructed as we now see their ruins in Athens and elsewhere. But many of the early temples were round; and it is a curious fact, hitherto unnoticed, I believe, that the altar end, the sanctum of our earliest Saxon churches, is circular.

JAMES SILVESTER.

ST. OLAVE.—A MANX LEGEND

(For the Mirror.)

[Magnus, King of Norway, having committed sacrilege, by opening the grave of St. Olave, he was commanded by the spirit of the offended saint to perform the voluntary penance of quitting the kingdom in thirty days. He obeyed this intimation, and immediately left Norway. Having conquered many of the Western Isles, at length he established himself in the Isle of Man. Afterwards attempting the reduction of Ireland, he was surrounded by the natives and slain, with the whole of his followers.]

Olave, of rocky Norway's saints, the holiest and the best, Entomb'd in tumulus, enjoys a calm and peerless rest; By all of heav'ns votaries in saintly rank renown'd, As high in blessedness, and chief in holy missal crown'd. The dead—in holy, stilly peace, the sacred dead repose, Afar from earth's turmoil and grief, and all of sick'ning woes; From racking pain, and withering pride, and avarice's care, Secure they rest in solitude, unaw'd by sin or snare. To sack the gloomy sepulchre of lately living clay, From cheerful day and life remov'd, by dreaded death away, Is crime indeed of blackest hue, deserving exile's fate, From native climes ordain'd to feel an outlaw's dreary state. Could Norway's priest-despising chief, deem sacrilege a crime Fitting for absolution,—or dark penance of set time That daring such all dreaded sin, he gazes on the grave, And tramples o'er the hallow'd dust of canoniz'd Olave. Lone sepulchre in holy earth—sure wickedness so dire, Of holy man, and sacred place, incenses heaven's ire; Can less than ever banishment from Norway's ice bound land, Stay sure revenge—pursuing fate—and justice' awful hand? Away he sails—the foaming seas as Corsair now he laves, Dauntless—heroic—daring winds, and man-entombing waves, To visit other lands afar,—to combat chiefs of fame; In battle-field to spread around the dread of Norway's name. Lone Mona's sea-girt isle he dares with spear and flashing sword, Usurping regal rule and right by power of pirate horde; Yet vengeance drear, and dark desert of direst actions, crave A bloody death, a justice clear, and dark usurper's grave. On Erin's lovely land he falls—awarded darksome doom, When, ruffian-like, he dared profane the saintly Olave's tomb: He leaves his conquests, kingdoms, crowns, and all of earthly state, To sleep in loneliness, and fill his dark predicted fate.

Kirk Michael, Isle of Man. A B.C.

THE ANECDOTE GALLERY

A LIVING ALCHEMIST

(From Sir R. Phillips's Tour.)

At Luton, Beds. Sir Richard hears of an ALCHEMIST, who lives at the village of Lilley, midway between Luton and Hitchen. The whole of his interview with this eccentric personage, will doubtless be interesting to our readers.

It was four miles out of my road, but I thought a modern alchemist worthy of a visit, particularly as several inhabitants of Luton gravely assured me, that he had succeeded in discovering the Philosopher's Stone, and also the Universal Solvent. The reports about him would have rendered it culpable not to have hazarded anything for a personal interview. I learnt that he had been a man of fashion, and at one time largely concerned in adventures on the turf, but that for many years he had devoted himself to his present pursuits; while for some time past, he had been inaccessible and invisible to the world, the house being shut and barricadoed, and the walls of his grounds protected by hurdles, with spring-guns so planted as to resist intrusion in every direction. Under these circumstances, I had no encouragement to go to Lilley, but I thought that even the external inspection of such premises would repay me for the trouble. At Lilley, I inquired for his house of various people, and they looked ominous; some smiled, others shook their heads, and all appeared surprised at the approach of an apparent visiter to Mr. Kellerman.

The appearance of the premises did not belie vulgar report. I could not help shuddering at seeing the high walls of respectable premises, lined at the top with double tiers of hurdles, and on driving my chaise to the front of the house, I perceived the whole in a state of horrid dilapidation. Contrary, however, to my expectation, I found a young man who appeared to belong to the out-buildings, and he took charge of my card for his master, and went to the back part of the house to deliver it. The front windows on the ground-floor and upper stories were entirely closed by inside shutters, much of the glass was broken, and the premises appeared altogether as if deserted. I was pleased at the words, "My master will be happy to see you," and in a minute the front door was opened, and Mr. Kellerman presented himself.—I lament that I have not the pencil of Hogarth, for a more original figure never was seen. He was about six feet high, and of athletic make; on his head was a white night-cap, and his dress consisted of a long great-coat once green, and he had a sort of jockey waistcoat with three tiers of pockets. His manner was extremely polite and graceful, but my attention was chiefly absorbed by his singular physiognomy. His complexion was deeply sallow, and his eyes large, black, and rolling. He conducted me into a very large parlour, with a window looking backward, and having locked the door, and put the key in his pocket, he desired me to be seated in one of two large arm chairs covered with sheepskins. The room was a realization of the well-known picture of Teniers' Alchemist. The floor was covered with retorts, crucibles, alembics, jars, bottles in various shapes, intermingled with old books piled upon each other, with a sufficient quantity of dust and cobwebs. Different shelves were filled in the same manner, and on one side stood his bed. In a corner somewhat shaded from the light, I beheld two heads, white, with dark wigs on them; I entertained no doubt therefore, that among other fancies he was engaged in re-making the brazen speaking head of Roger Bacon and Albertus. Many persons might have felt alarmed at the peculiarity of my situation, but being accustomed to mingle with eccentric characters, and having no fear from any pretensions of the black art, I was infinitely gratified by all I saw.

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The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 12, No. 342, November 22, 1828

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CIRCULAR TEMPLES

(For the Mirror.)

ST. OLAVE.—A MANX LEGEND

(For the Mirror.)

THE ANECDOTE GALLERY

A LIVING ALCHEMIST

(From Sir R. Phillips's Tour.)

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