Quite independently of the age of the writer, we cannot but think this a really fine burst of passion.

All young ladies, as the master of Sherburn truly remarks in one of his editorial notes, do not understand Greek; but his accomplished grandniece (we do not use the word boarding-scholastice) did, it seems -like Lady Jane Grey, and quite as earlyunderstand that noble language. At the

age of sixteen, she produced a trans-
lation of a Chorus in the Hecuba of
Euripides, which the highest boy at
Eton or Winchester in the race of
emulation might well have coveted;
but we rather prefer citing her still
better translation of the noble Hymn
of Cleanthes; and that the rather, be-
cause we have already, in a former
number, given a version of it by Mrs.
James Gray:-

"Most glorious of immortals! Many-named!
Great and all-powerful ever! Jupiter,
Author of nature, universal king,
Hail; for by right thou rulest mortal men!

We are thine offspring: unto us alone
Among the dwellers on the earth, is given
The mimic gift of speech. Therefore to thee
We will sing praises, and extol thy might.

Round, in its place, the universe thou rollest ;
And, by thy sovereign will, guidest each orb
As it revolves. In thine unconquered hand
The double-pointed arrows of the lightning,
Thy fiery, ever-living minister,

Thou wieldest; and all Nature at the stroke
Trembles. O Thou, the all-pervading Mind,
Mingled with great and small; thou, Lord Supreme,
Nought is without thee-or in the divine
Etherial heaven, or in the sea, or earth-
Save the blind actions of the wicked man!

'Tis thine to order what things are confused,
Prune the redundant, th' adverse reconcile;
For thus thy law with evil mixes good.

Thrice happy they who love and follow it-
The virtuous! But the wicked, woe to them,
For they abhor and break it! They nor see,
Nor will obey. From what alone can give
Life to their souls, madly they turn away:
Some eager climbing the steep path of glory;
Some, aye unsated, craving after gain ;]
Some eftsoon lulled, by pleasure's syren voice,
To sloth and soft repose. But oh, do thou,
All-giver, dwelling 'midst the clouds in darkness,
Ruler of lightning, hear: and free the minds
Of men from fatal ignorance; and teach
To follow thine all-just, all-guiding will;
That we, since thou hast honoured us in much,
May, as befitteth us, return thee honour,
Ever thy works extolling! For what gift,
On mortals or on gods, can be bestowed,
More excellent than this ?-FOR EVERMORE,
RIGHTLY TO PRAISE THINE UNIVERSAL LAW!"

Among the minor poems, though considerable praise is due to The Athenian Torch-race, and others that might be mentioned, we prefer Contancy and Ivy in a Wreath of Flowers.

We transcribe the former; though,
instead of the single ambiguous word
Constancy, we would recommend, as
its title in a future edition, Constancy
under Trials :-

"Man's mind should be of marble, not of clay-
A rock-hewn temple, stern, majestic, bare!

Oh that man's spirit ever thus could be,
Firm and all noble. But how oft we see

It doth resemble some Etruscan tomb,

Where, when you pierce the stillness and the gloom
Which ages have enwrapt it with, you find

A wondrous pile indeed, built strong, secure,
As if, unmoved, eternal to endure;

Bright wreaths of golden leaves and gems entwined,
Rich armour, graceful vases, jewels rare,
And sculptured figures more than mortal fair;
While aye, in radiant hue and flowing line,

Are pictured forms of beauty, mirth, or woe.
Entranced awhile you gaze; then seek to know
For whom these gathered treasures brightly shine-
But all is silence. Raise the massive lid
Of yon sarcophagus. See what is hid
Beneath the cover of its carven stone.
There is the answer-DUST, And dust alone."

The two first lines of this beautiful little poem, which serve as a sort of motto to it, are acknowledged by the authoress to have been borrowed from Sir Aubrey de Vere.

But our limits require us to hasten to her undoubtedly principal poem, Lethe, which is judiciously placed the first of the collection, and which gives to the entire volume its title.

The editor, whose taste, albeit a controversialist, we have learned duly to appreciate, calls, in his note, this production an exquisite poem, and we are not inclined to dispute the propriety of his expression. It is an exquisite poem, both in rhythm, and in imaginativeness, and in well-sustained, though happily-diversified energy through 126

thither, the party falls into an ambuscade, and, after a desperate action, the hero, who had been left for dead upon the field, awakes to consciousness only to learn, that the affianced of his sister is slain, and that his consort has fallen into the hands of the Persians. Despair benumbs his faculties-a despair carried to the verge of madness by the speedy tidings of her death. In the depth of his wretchedness he seeks consolation from the schools of the philosophers; but miserable comforters he finds them all. The death of Evanè leads him anxiously to inquire into the state of the disembodied soul; and learning nothing certain in the schools, he successively, in a fine and varied strain of agonised eloquence, adjures the wind, the ocean, the pri meval night, and those

"Holy watchers of the midnight gloom,"

the stars of heaven, to give him the desired information. At length, in utter misery, he prays the invisible powers to grant the boon of forgetfulness:

"'Twas thus I prayed, and long in vain. At length
My prayer was answered. 'Twas a stormy night-
The fierce winds shook the cedars in their strength,
And crushed the forest oaks; the forkèd light

In lurid glances through the tempest flashed;

And o'er the sounding rocks the furious billows dashed.

"I stood alone upon the mountain's brow,

My spirit in one thought absorbed; nor heard

Thunder, or foaming wave, or crashing bough.
And I stood thus entranced, until a word

Fell on my ear, and startled me. I turned,

And dimly through the gloom a formless shape discerned.

"Long have lived together siuce that time;

And, day by day, fresh beams of light have burst
Upon my spirit from the source, sublime,

Of all true light. My soul has quenched her thirst
With living waters. Now I know and praise
The hand that led to truth by such mysterious ways."

"Nature I loved. To hear the pine-boughs crashing,
When, black with storms, came on the deep midnight:
To watch the lightnings, in their fitful flashing,
Scathe the tall firs and cedars in their might;

While through heaven's vault the pealing thunders rolled,
Echoed by every cave an hundred fold;

"I loved the ocean onward still to float,
In calm or tempest o'er its vast expanse.
I loved the desert, boundless and remote,
Where nought presents itself to keenest glance
But burning sand and cloudless sultry sky,

Save where the treacherous lake recedes before the eye.

"Once, as I wandered o'er the desert plains,
Afar I saw a green and palmy wood.

I hastened on; and there, with all its fanes
Bathed in the evening light, a city stood,
Glorious as 'twere a city seen in dreams,

Tower, arch, and column bright with rainbow gleams.

NARRATIVE OF A TRIAL FOR WITCHCRAFT.

FROM SOME FAMILY PAPERS.

In the year of our Lord 1679, I, being one of his majesty's justices of the peace, was present at the assizes, held according to law in the town of Leicester.

For many years the realm had been grievously afflicted by the diabolical crime of witchcraft, and great numbers of witches were, about the time of which I speak, convicted of dealing with evil and familiar spirits, and accordingly suffered the just penalties of our righteous laws.

On the second day of the assizes, there was a woman to be tried for this deadly sin, who, inasmuch as she differed from those poor and decrepit hags who had before been proven guilty, did cause that people would talk and think of nothing but her case; and as it was both wonderful and uncommon, I have judged fit to preserve a full and true account of all that then and there happened.

This suspected person was in the second year of her widowhood; her husband had been a gentleman of repute, who left her a substantial household and estate.

When she was brought into court, she appeared of very comely and modest demeanour, of some thirty years of age or thereabout, and wore her widow's weeds.

She was charged by the name of Margaret Hubert, "That being reprobate and given over of God, the devil had seduced her to compact and league with him to work evil, and to inflict various grievous torments upon John Burt and his household, more especially his daughter Alice."

And

being called upon to plead, she stood up, and, with surpassing courage and firmness, said "I am not guilty of this great crime. So help me God."

Then they called John Burt, who was some seventy years of age, by trade a cordwainer, and he deposed—

"That he lived in ease, and without any outward cares or vexations, till May last, which was about six months after that William, the husband of the

said Margaret Hubert, died; but from
the same beginning of May till she was
committed to prison, he had no pleasure
of his life, and while these torments
lasted, he had been tempted to pray
God to release him from the wretched
burthen of his days."

And all the people murmured at the prisoner, as the old white-headed man complained thus; but she only smiled a little, and remained silent.

The deponent further said—

"That on the evening of the 5th of May, his family being within, preparing for rest, and the whole house shut up, there came suddenly a violent noise of knocking at the door; that thereupon they demanded who was there, but receiving no answer, the knocking still continuing, they supposed it to be thieves, and winding a horn which was with them in the house, roused the town, and the neighbours coming in, there was no more noise that night. But it came again every evening after dark, in the same way, and they, fearing to open the door, looked out of an upper window, but saw nothing. This piece of trouble did continue till the middle of June, at which time the devil came with new and extraordinary assaults, by throwing of stones in at doors and windows, and down through the chimney head; also at night they wanted liberty to sleep, something coming and pulling their bed-clothes and linen off their bodies; also their chests and trunks were opened, and all things strewed about. However, it was not till shortly afterwards, that they suspected who worked them all this evil and tribulation, and then the witchcraft settled upon his daughter Alice only, leaving the rest of the family free. This damsel was afflicted with strong and violent fits, which lasted often for an hour, during the which time she did vomit small stones, stubble, and various strange things, calling frequently on them who held her to take away Dame Margaret, for she was tormenting her; and ever when the fit was ended, she said it was Dame Hubert who had been there, and that as soon as she went out her pains ceased. Dame Margaret was told by some of the neighbours of these strange passages, and how the girl cried