MADAME ROLAND.

“ Occupying myself with the happiness of the man SCENES AND CHARACTERS FROM THE

whose fate I had associated with my own, I perceived FIRST FRENCH REVOLUTION. that there was still something wanting to complete my

own happiness. Never for a single instant have í Translated for “ Ilowitt's Journal.”

ceased to recognize in my husband, one of the most From LAMARTINE's “Histoire des GIRONDINS.", estimable men living, and one to whom I felt it an

honour to belong; still I have often felt that there was (Continued from p. 297.)

a certain equality wanting between us, that the ascendancy of a domineering spirit united to the twenty years which made bim my senior, redered the disparity

too great. If we lived in retirement, I had sometimes ROLAND, horn in an honest citizen family which en- painful hours to endure. If we went into the world, joyed magisterial offices and asserted pretensions to no

Í found myself beloved by persons whose affection I bility, was the youngest of five brothers. He was perceived might cost me too dear. I absorbed myself destined for the church. To fly this destination, which in my husband's literary labours; I became the tranwas most repugnant to him, at nineteen he left the pa- scriber of his MSS.; the corrector of his proofs ; I ternal roof and took refuge at Nantes. Having entered fulfilled my task with an unmurmuring humility, which the house of a ship-owner, he was preparing to embark strangely enough contrasted with a spirit as bold and for India, there to connect himself with commerce, when practised as my own. But this humility sprung from he was detained by illness at the moment of departure. the heart; I respected my husband so much, that I One of his relatives, an inspector of manufactures, re- loved always to believe him my superior ; I was so ceived him in Rouen and made him enter his bureau, fearful of a shadow on his brow, and he so firmly mainThe administration of that epoch, animated by the tained his own opinions, that it was long before I acspirit of Turgot, was peopled with philosophers. Roland quired the strength to contradict him. "To all these distinguished himself, and the government sent him to occupations I united the cares of my household, and Italy to study there the progress of commerce.

perceiving that his delicate health could not support He quitted his young friend with regret, and regularly every kind of diet, I undertook to prepare all his food wrote to her scientific letters destined to serve as potes myself. I remained four years at Amiens, and there for a work he proposed writing upon Italy, letters in became a mother. We worked together at the new which sentiment revealed itself beneath science; rather Encyclopædia, the articles of which relative to com. the studies of a philosoper than the epistles of a lover.

merce had been entrusted to him. We only left our Upon his return she recognized in him a dear friend; studies to take quiet country walks.” his

age, his gravity, his manners, his laborious habits, Roland, absolute and selfish, had insisted from the inade her look upon him as a sage whose sole life was commencement of their marriage, that his wife should that of the intellect. In the union they contemplated, cease all intercourse with the young friends she had so and which resembled love less than one of those antique tenderly loved in the convent, and who then lived at associations of the time of Socrates and Plato, one Amiens. He appeared jealous of the least share of her sought a disciple rather than a wife, the other espoused affections being bestowed upon another. After several a master rather than a husband. M. Roland returned years passed at Amiens, Roland was employed in his to Amiens. From thence he wrote to the father de former capacity of Inspector of Manufactures at Lyons, manding the hand of his daughter. The father drily. The winter was spent in the city, the rest of the year in refused him. He feared in M. Roland, whose austerity his paternal home where his mother still lived, venerable was distasteful to him, a censor for himself, a tyrant from age, but irritating and weary domestic, interfor his daughter. Informed of this refusal by her course. Madame Roland, in all the bloom of her youth, father, the daughter, filled with indignation, entered beauty, and genius, thus found herself condemned pa

There she lived upon the coarsest food tiently to endure the domestic miseries of an implacaprepared by her own band. She plunged once more

ble mother-in-law, a violent brother-in-law, and a do. into study, and strengthened her heart against adver- mineering husband. The most enthusiastic love would sity. In order to merit happiness she avenged herself scarcely have sufficed to render such a position endu. upon Fate who seemed determined to deny it her. Still rable. Alleviations, however, she had in the sense of a sentiment of inward bitterness poisoned her very sacri- her duty, in her work, her philosophy, and her child. fice. She said to herself that this sentiment was not These sufficed, and she ended by transforming this deserved by its object; she had flattered herself that austere retreat into an abode of harmony and peace. M. Roland, upon learning her resolution and retreat,

At the foot of the mountains of Beaujolais, in the would have hastened to tear her from the convent and wide basin of the Saône, in face of the Alps, extends unite their destinies. Time passed on; Roland came

a series of low bills like waves of sand, upon which the pot, nay, bardly wrote. However, at the end of six patient vine-grower of these districts has planted vines. months he did appear. His imagination was again in- Oblique valleys and narrow and winding chasms along flamed upon beholding his friend behind the grate of a which extend little green meadows intersect these hills. convent; he determined upon offering his hand to her Each meadow has its little streamlet, flowing from the himself, and it was accepted. But so much calcula- mountains. Willows, birch, and poplars trace its tion, hesitation, and coldness, had destroyed all the course and veil its bed. The only trees growing on illusion which the young captive might still retain, and the sides and summits of the hills themselves, are reduced her sentiment to severe esteem. She devoted, wild peach-trees, which rise above the low vines withrather than gave herself to him. It seemed a beautiful out affording them shade, and great walnut-trees in the thing to her to sacrifice herself to a high-minded man; orchards near the houses. It is upon the side of one but she accomplished this sacrifice with all the gravity these sandy hills that La Platière stands, the paternal of reason and no enthusiasm of heart. Her marriage heritage of M. Roland; a low house, not very extenwas an act of virtue which she enjoyed, not because it sive, with long rows of regular windows, and an almost was sweet, but because it was sublime.

flat roof of red ciles. This roof somewhat overhangs The enthusiastic disciple of Rousseau may again be the walls of the house, forming a protection to the traced in this decisive action of her life. The marriage windows in summer from the sun, in winter from the of Madame Roland is an evident imitation of Heloise rain. The walls unornamented with architectural de. marrying M. de Volmar. But the bitterness of reality coration, are covered by a white cement, cracked and is not long in revealing itself beneath the heroism of stained by time. You ascend to the vestibule by a flight her devotion.

of five stone steps, surmounted by a rustic balustrade

a convent.

the sea.

of rusty iron. A court-yard surrounded by barns, and before she had quitted the unobserved, unknown young containing wine-dresses, cellars, and a dovectoe lies in girl, now re-appearing as a flame to animate a party, front of the house ; behind extends a small kitchen gar- found a republic, reign a moment and Jie! den, the square beds of which are bordered with box, Madame Roland and her husband allied themselves pinks, and fruit-trees cut low. At the end of each intimately with several of the most fervent apostles walk' stands an arbour. Farther on is an orchard, of the popular ideas, with men who appeared in love whose trees, bending in a thousand forms, throw a the Revolution for its own sake, and to devote themscanty shade upon an acre or so of short herbage; selves with a sublime disinterestedness to the progress beyond the orchard lies an extensive vineyard, divi- of humanity. Brissot was one of the first; with ded into right lines, by numbers of narrow green him Madame Roland had been some time in corpaths. Such was the platière. Your eye wanders respondence. Brissot brought with him his disciple by turns from the severe horizon line of the Beaujeu and friend Péthion, already member of the Conmountains, their sides dotted over with black oaks, stituant Assembly. Bazot and Robespierre, two or covered by immense sloping meadows, on which other members of the same assembly, also were in. fatten the oxen of Charolais, to the valley of the troduced. Brissot, Péthion, Buzot, and Robespierre, Saône, an ocean of verdure, a spire and tower rising arranged to meet four evenings a week is Madame here and there. The chain of the high Alps covered Roland's drawing-room. The object of these re-unions with snow, and the dome of Mont-Blanc, which was secretly to confer upon the weakness of the Con. rises majestically over all, form the frame-work to the stituant Assembly, upon the snares laid by the aristolandscape in which lies something of the infinity of crats for the fettered Revolution, and to concert what

measures should be taken to consolidate a republican Such, during five years, was the horizon of this re- triumph. markable woman. Her time was spent in the cares of Thus Madame Roland found herself, from the very her household, the culture of her mind, and in active commencement of her political life, thrown into the centre charity, that culture of the heart. Adored by the pea of the revolutionary movement. Her invisible hand sants, to whom she was a very Providence, she applied touched the first threads of the woof which should bring to the relief of their poverty that superfluity she en. about such tremendous consequences. This privilege, joyed through the strictest economy, and to the cure of the only one permitted hy ber sex, at once flattered her their various ailments, the knowledge she had acquired woman's pride, and her passion for politics. She of medicine. She was frequently sent for from a dis- managed all with that modesty which had it not been the tance of three or four leagues to visit a sick person. gift of nature, would have been a chef d'ouvre of tact On Sundays the steps of her house might be seen co- in her. Seated at a little distance from the circle, near vered with invalids who sought relief, or of convales- a work-table, she employed her fingers, or wrote letters, cents who came to express their gratitude, bringing of- listening all the cime to the discussions of her friends, ten baskets of chesnuts, cheese from their goats, or ap- with an apparent indifference. Often tempted to take ples from their orchards. It rejoiced her to find these part she would bite her lips to repress her thoughts. country people just, intelligent, and grateful. But the Ofan active an energetic mind, the length and wordiburning of the chateaux during the September massa ness of these discussions, inspired her with a secret cres, taught her at a later time, that the human ocean, contempt. Action evaporated in words, and the hour then so calm, may be agitated by the most fearful passed, carrying with it opportunities which would no storms, and that social institutions are as necessary to the world, as a bed to the ocean, that power is as in The victories of the Constituant Assembly soon enerdispensable as justice in the governments of the peo- vated the conquerors. The chiefs of this very Assembly ple.

recoiled from their own work, and agreed with the arisMeanwhile the Revolution of '89 had sounded, and tocracy that the constitution should be revised in a more surprised Madam Roland in the depths of this petreat. monarchial form. The Deputies, who met at Madame Intoxicated with philosophy, enthusiastic for the ideal Roland's, were filled with discouragement. There reof humanity, a worshipper of antique liberty, she be- mained alone this little knot of steadfast men who were lieved that this Revolution would bring about the re- attached to their principles independent of success, and generation of the whole world, and terminate the misery all the more attached to the cause of liberty since forof the labouring classes, which so painfully excited her tune seemed ready to betray her. compassion. There is imagination in the very com There is a melancholy curiosity and interest in obpassion of great souls. The generous illusion of France serving the first impression made upon Madame Roland was at this epoch equal to the work France had to hy the man, who in the beginning warmed in her bosom accomplish. Had she not boped much, she would have and conspiring with her, should one day overturn the dared little. Her faith was her strength.

power of her friends, sacrifice them en masse, and send From this day forth Madame Roland felt within her, herself to the scaffold. No repulsive sentiment appears a fire which was alone extinguished in her blood. Alí to have at this time forwarned her, that in conspiring the latent love which slumbered in her soul was con- the fortune of Robespierre she was conspiring her own verted into enthusiasm for the good of humanity. She death. If ever a vague fear presents itself it is instantly loved the Revolution as a lover.. She communicated changed into pity, which almost resembles contempt. this flame to her husband and her friends. Happy and Robespierre appears to her an honest man. Still she beloved, she would have remained the mere noble wo had remarked that he was ever concise and guarded in man, unhappy and isolated, she became the head of these committees, that he listened to every one's opinion a political party.

before giving his own, and never gave himself the trou. The opinions of M. and Madame Roland, had, in the ble of explaining his motives. Like every imperious first moment excited against them all the commercial man his own conviction appeared to himself reason sufaristocracy of Lyons. Yet through the irresitable cur- ficient. Yet the next day he would mount the tribune, rent of ideas these very people were borne along the and profiting by the private discussions he had heard the stream of opinion; M. Roland was raised to the night before, would get the start of his friends, and thus Municipality at the first elections, and was despatched disconcert their plan of conduct. He would excuse himto Paris as deputy, by the Municipal Council to defend self at Roland's on the plea of youthful indiscretion. the commercial interests of Lyons in the committees of After the massacre of the Champ-de-Mars, Robespierre, the Constituant Assembly.

accused of having been concerned in the proceedings of It was thus on the 20th of February 1791, that the day, and menaced with the vengeance of the Na. Madame Roland returned to Paris which five years tional Guard, was forced to conceal himself. Madame

more return.

4

Roland, accompanied by her husband, hastened, at “ And this as if with pleasure,” added the woman.
eleven at night, to his retreat in the Marais, to offer “ The dear child, she was grown very frail ; and yet at
him a safe asylum in their own house. He had alread fifteen she was a very roge-bud-80 pretty--so fresh-
fled. Madame Roland then hastened to Buzot, their Her light hair was soft as silk; but she perished
mutual friend, and conjured him to exert his influence slowly, her trade of wool-comber, killed her. She has,
with the Feuillants, and get Robespierre exculpated so to say, been poisoned by the dust of the wool —her
before the decree of accusation was issued against him. business being all the more unhealthy and dangerous as
Buzot hesitated a moment, then said, “I will do all in she worked for the poor, whose bedding is always made
my power to save this unhappy young man, although of refuse material.'
I am far from concurring in the opinion of many people She had the courage of a lion and the resignation of
concerning him. He thinks too much about himself an angel. She used to say to me in her sweet, low,
truly to love libery. But he is useful to liberty, and voice, interrupted by a frequent dry cough-..
that is enough. I will be there to defend him. Thus “ I shall not have long to breathe vitriol all day and
did three future victims of Robespierre's, in one night, lime dust; I spit blood and have sometimes cramp at
conspire to preserve that man who should one day de the chest whick makes me faint."
stroy them. Destiny no less extends its snare to men “But change your business!” I have said to her.
through their virtues than through their crimes. Death « And where shall I find the time for a fresh appren.
is everywhere, but it is virtue alone which repents not, ticeship?" she would reply. “And even then it would
In the dungeons of the Conciergérie, Madame Roland be now too late, I am already attacked. It was not
recalled this night with satisfaction. Jf in his power my fault”-added the good little creature—“ for I did
Robespierre recalled it, it must have fallen colder upon not choose my trade; it was my father; happily he
his heart than the axe of the executioner.

does not need me. And when one is dead-one has
After the dissolution of the Constituent Assembly, nothing to trouble oneself about, one does not fear to
M. and Madame Roland, their mission ended, re- be idle."
turned to La Platière. The most trifling pretext, bow Victoire spoke this melancholy common-place with
ever, sufficed to recall them. In the month of De- the greatest sincerity, and with a kind of satisfaction.
cember, we again find them in Paris. It was the hour She died also saying-
of their friends' advancement, Péthion had been just “ At last! at last !"
nominated Mayor of Paris ; Robespierre, excluded How sad it is to think that labour, by which the poor
from the Legislative Assembly by that law which pre- must gain their bread, is frequently a long suicide!
cluded the election of former deputies had raised a tri I said this to Agricol the other day, and his reply
bude for himself among the Jacobins. Brissot bad was that there are many other trades which are mortal,
taken the place of Buzot, and his renown as a publicist the workers in aqua-fortis and white and red-lead,
and statesman had rallied round his doctrines the among others, are attacked by incurable maladies
young Girodists. The Girondists arriving from their which they have foreseen, and of which they die.
department with all the ardour of their youth and the “Dost thou know." added Agricol, “dost thou know
impulse of a revolutionary wave, threw themselves im- what they say when they leave home for these mur:
mediately into the plans prepared by Robespierre, Bu- derous work-shops ? We are going to the abattoir !”
zot, Leclos, Danton, and Brissot.

This word of fearful truth made me shudder. Roland, the friend of all these men, but occupying “ And such things happen in the present day!” ex. a second grade, and hidden by their shadow, enjoyed claimed I, touched to the heart. “And people know one of those unobtrusive reputations, all the more pow. of them! 'And among so many powerful men, no one erful through its very want of éclat; he was spoken remembers this mortality among his brethren, who are of as possessing antique virtue concealed beneath a forced to earn a homicidal bread!” rustic simplicity. It was the genius of his wife alone “ What dost thou mean, my poor Mayeux ?" rewhich drew observation upon him, As he was feared plied Agricol," whilst people are formed into ranks to by no one, he was brought forward by every one ; by be slaughtered in battle, there will be thought enough Péthion as a shield; by Robespierre as a prey; Brissot expended upon that kind of organization.-But an orsought to conceal the disgrace of his owo bad reputa-ganization for life ;-no one thinks of that! They say, tion hehind a proverbial honesty; Buzot. Vergniaud, Bah! the hunger, misery, and sufferings of the artisan, Louvet, Gensonne, and the Girondists exalted him what are they ? - they are not politics.'—But they dethrough respect for his scientific acquirements, and admiration and friendship for his wife ; the very Court, through confidence in bis honesty and contempt of his influence. Thus this man acquired power without • The following details may be read in the Ruche Populaire, striving after it, through the favour and self-interest of an excellent publication edited by artizans, and of which we one party, the contempt of his enemies, and the genius have already spoken. of his wife.

MATTRESS WOOL-COMBERS.—The dust which escapes from
(To be continued.)

the wool renders the carding of it a most injurious business,
the dangers of which are augmented by the falsities of trade.
When a sheep is killed, the wool upon its neck is stained with

blood : and to sell this wool it is necessary to remove the EXTRACT FROM THE DIARY OF LA stains. To do this the fleece is steeped in quick-lime, partiMAYEUZ.

cles of which remain behind in the wool after bleaching. It
is the workwoman who suffers from the lime, which, detach-
ing itself in form of dust, attacks her lungs, generally pro-
ducing violent cramp at the chest, and vomitings which re-
duce her to the most deplorable condition.

The greater
Translated for Howitt's Journal, from Le Juif number abandon their trade; whilst those who continue in it
Errant.

are seized-even those who suffer least-with a catarrh or

asthma; which only leaves them at death. And if in horseI HAVE just returned from the interment of this poor hair, the superior kinds called “ samples," are impure, you little Victoire Herbin, our neighbour. Her father, a

may judge what the inferior must be. They are called by

the workwomen “ Vitriol-hair," and are the refuse of goat's working upholsterer, has gone away from Paris, to hair

and hog's bristles, and are first

passed through vitriol

, work by the month. She died at the age of nineteen, and then dyed to burn and conceal the refuse matter, such without a relation near her. Her death was without as straws, thorns, and pieces of flesh even which they have agony. The good woman who watched over her till not taken the trouble to remove, and which are frequently the last moment, told us she only pronounced these recognized in working the

hair. From this hair rises a dust

which causes ravages as fearful as those caused by the wool words,—" At last ! At last !”

A DEFORMED NEEDLEWOMAN.

dust.

ceive themselves," added Agricol, “ THEY ARE MORE MIGHTY THAN POLITICS."

As Victoire left nothing with which to pay for the funeral service, there was merely the presentation of the body in the church-porch ; for there is not for the

Literary Notices. poor even a simple death-mass -- and then, as there were no eighteen francs with which to fee the Curé, no priest accompanied the bier of poverty to the common grave.

If such simple brief funeral ceremonies suffice in a Judas Iscariot, a Miracle Play. By R. H. HORNE. religious point of view, wherefore imagine other cere London : C. Mitchell, Red Lion Court. 1848. monies? Is it from cupidity ? If, on the contrary, they are insufficient, why render the poor the victims The present revolutions of the world are not confined of this insufficiency ?

to political institutions; wonderful changes are also But wherefore trouble yourselves about this pomp, taking place in opinions. Various estimates of men this incense, these chauntings, of which the priests are and things which were supposed to be settled in the more or less prodigal or avaricious ? What matter world's judgement, are now undergoing important mothey ?—what matter they? They are only vain and difications ; and in like manner, various new views on terrestrial things, and of such, the soul will have no all matters are rising round us, and if not insisting longer need, when radiant, it ascends towards the upon being well-founded, at least claiming to be heard. Creator."

Of this class is the character of Judas Iscariot-dark and repulsive under any view, but fairly open to argument on the score of its mysteriousness and incongruity as commonly understood. A new view (but avowedly not originated by himself) is taken of this character in the work before us, by Mr. Horne. On this new view

he has built this “ Miracle Play," which, independent CHILDREN IN EXILE.

of its genius as a dramatic production of that originality

and power wbich characterize all the productions of the Two Indian boys were carried to London not long author of " Orion.”' is at the same time one of the most ago for exhibition, and both died soon after their ar extraordinary works that ever issued from the press. rival. It is related, that one of them, during his last we shall be much mistaken if all the press do not agree moments, talked incessantly of the scenes and sports of with us in this opinion. his distant home, and that both wished earnestly to be

" It had frequently occurred to me." says the author in his taken back to their native woods.

preface, “that the story of Judas Iscariot contained elements

of a tragedy of a more terrible kind than could be dereloped Some say that herea murder hath been done.—WORDSWORTH. tempting it, I am indebted to an ordination sermon delivered

from any other event in history; but for the first idea of at

by his Grace the Archbishop of Dublin.” Their wigwam opened on the vine That o'er its rafters hung,

The following quotation from the Archbishop's serAnd busy robins, building near,

mon is subjoined in explanationAbove the threshold sung

“In contemplating the case of Judas Iscariot, you should Far in the dark old forest glades,

first remark, that there is no reason for concluding, as unreWhere violets bloom around,

flecting readers often do, that he was influenced solely by the They had their place of youthful sport,

paltry bribe of thirty pieces of silver (probably equal in sil.

ver to about sixty shillings; and in value to perhaps twice Their childhood's hunting ground.

that sum in the present day) to betray his master, and to betray him designedly to death. That Jesus possessed mira

culous powers, Judas must have well known; and it is likely Each morn their little dusky feet

that, if he believed Him to be the promised Messiah, who was Sprang down the sparkling lea,

about to establish a splendid and powerful kingdom (an exTo plunge beneath the glowing stream

pectation which it is plain was entertained by all the apostles) Beside the chesnut tree;

he must have expected that his master, on being arrested and

brought before the Jewish rulers, would be driven to assert his And when the hiding squirrel's nest

claim, by delivering himself miraculously from the power of They sought for up the hills,

his enemies; and would at once accept the temporal kingdom They bathed their reeking foreheads cool

which the people were already eager (and would then have

been doubly eager) to offer him. That if our Lord had done Among the mountain rills.

this, he would have been received with enthusiastic welcome,

as the nation's deliverer from Roman bondage, there can be They saw the early golden moon

no doubt; since He would thus have fulfilled the fondly che

rished hopes of the multitudes who had just before brought Peep through her wary bower,

him in triumph to Jerusalem. And it was most natural for And in her beams they chased the bat

Judas to expect that Jesus would so conduct himself if deAround his leafy tower

livered up to his enemies. As for his voluntarily submitting And when the stars, all silently,

to stripes and indignities and to a disgraceful death, no such

thought seems ever to have occurred to Judas any more than Went out o'er hill and plain,

it did to the other apostles. But the difference between Is. They loved to hear the merry chime

cariot and his fellow-apostles was, that, though all had the of summer evening rain.

same expectations and conjectures, he dared to act on his conjectures, and departing from the plain course of his known

duty, to follow the calculations of his worldly wisdom, and These haunts they missed--the city air

the schemes of his worldly ambition; while they piously subNo healthful music brings,

mitted to their master's guidance,"even when the under

stood not the things that He said unto them." They longed to roam green woodland dells,

Preface p. p. III-IV. Where Nature ever sings, – And drooping 'mid the noise and glare,

This is a great subject. Within the range of tragedy They pined for brook and glen,

there is none so great-80 terrible. We find ourselves And dying, still looked fondly back,

concerned in the motives of that man who became the And asked for Home again.

instrument through whom our GREAT MASTER was Boston, U, s.

JAMES T. FIELDS. brought to the consummation of his mission, in that

tor.

stage of bis being which he accomplished on earth ; a Could silence their revilings and their taunts,
man too, who was one of the twelve chosen friends of Set aside their doctrines and harsh laws

Wither the soldier's hands-cast down their walls
Christ, dignified in especial, by the name of Apostles. And in the place a mighty Templo erect
The very greatness of the theme indeed renders it To the True Spirit even to his father, God-
startling at first view. “Is not this dangerous ground ?" Behold instead he wandereth by the way

Even as an outcast, and the wicked sit
we say.
“Is it not daring to venture upon this as a

In the high places, as of old.
subject for dramatic poetry ?"

Peter.
We search the work itself for a reply, and we find
in the mode of its corstruction a satisfactory solution Nay, Judas;
of our doubts. We find that while the great interest Not as of old, with all the future their's-
clings around the person of our Lord, while his spirit For so it seemed--but as things doomed to die.

Since the bright star of Bethlehem arose.
pervades every scene, while every incident hangs upon
his words, bis acts, his sufferings, yet he Himself never

John.
appears in any one scene. He is the subject of the
dialogue, bat He does not mix in it. He is the centre and all who now sit crowned shall fade in air,

Their nights are numbered. Jesus can breathe one breath-
of the action, yet He does not revolve before our eyes. While from the misty silence to the sweetness
We hear him through other mouths, we see Him through of psaltery, dulcimer, and angel quire
other eyes. We feel that on two or three occasions He His own great Kingdom burneth into view.
moves behind the divine veil that separates the scene

Judas.
from the background--but He is never visible. Thus
it is that He passes crowned with his bloody thorns; I say this to myself most constantly!
and He hangs pale on His cross to our mental eye,

I know this—this I strongly feel.

Act I., &c. III. seen througb the agonized vision of the wretched trai

This mode of construction, arising out of the Even in this short extract, the admirable working of deep-felt reverence of the poet, inspires us, as we read, the other characters of the drama will be perceived. with a like emotion, and excites the frame of mind They include, besides the Apostles whom we have enusuited to the study of the work.

merated in the extract, Mary the mother of Christ. In like manner, the treatment of the character of Mary the sister of Lazarus, and Mary Magdalene, Judas is true to the correct instinct of a great drama- Pontius Pilate, Caiaphas and Annas, Nicodemus, Jotist. Though raised out of the mire of deprarity, seph of Arimathea, and arus of Bethany, also which in the common version of his crime clings around Claudia the wife of Pilate. him (as one who could betray his Master for thirty Among these, the Apostle John is a lovely person. pieces of silver), he is not elevated into a hero. He is ification; presenting in poetry an image such as in represented as of character too gross to comprehend painting is given us by Raffaelle. The Mother of the teaching of Christ, or enter into its real meanings ; Christ, though appearing in two scenes, speaks only as a man of fierce passions, revengeful, ambitious, a once, but her silence is more expressire than all words, seeker of his own glory through the glorification of his and when she speaks, she thrills us with an emotion never LORD; presumptuous, and careless as to his means to to be forgotten, uttering words that comprehend all the accomplish his end; and that end—the elevation of his height and the depth of the emotions awakened by Master to a triumphant kingdom, His fiery, ven- that solemn moment of anguish and of faith in the acgeance on His eneniies, and his own high place in the complished work, and all this in one line. Mary Magnew dynasty. At the same time he is represented as dalene is given truly with the fervent love that washed of ardent faith, of devoted adherence to Christ, and the feet with her tears and wiped them with the long of unbounded belief in his power; this very faith and tresses of her hair, and that was to lead her to the sedevotion galling him with a sense of intolerable impa- pulchre “early in the morning of the first day of the tience, and making him rush upon the means which he week." conceived would hurry on the consummation he desired,

But the two characters which are worked out in the viz., that of the Messiah's kingdom upon earth. The

most masterly manner-always excepting the principa! “ kingdom of heaven," whether to be spiritually accomplished on earth or in another state, formed no part the very emboliment

of priesteraft; an epitome of the

one--are Caiaphas and Pontius Pilate. Caiaphas is of the thoughts of Judas. The following short portion vices into which that institution has plunged its funcof a discourse among the Apostles will illustrate our stionaries. There is a scene in which, it is artfully meaning :

managed, that he should profess and enunciate as the

truth every error in certain sciences, which modern Peter.

knowledge has exploded. How finely done too is the If his word move all hearts, where'er he goeth,

following, and, alas! how strangely like the way in As doth the sun who looketh on the waves, Call'st thou the light too slow! The divine word

which those who, in this our 19th century, sit in high He preacheth, and the spirit of his life,

places, and are called Masters and Teachers among us, Are they not quick to reach the multitude,

yet speak. Caiaphas is arguing with Pilate, who would Daily!

save Jesus:-
Judas.
But since our days are but a span,

Caiapkas.
Or we may suffer death by martyrdom,

He hath taught the people that all men are brothers, and
For us it seemeth slow.

should be equal; that no man should be master and rabbi; and that he is greatest who serveth most. What is this but

evil speaking, and false doctrine, and lying and slandering! No time is slow,

For do we not very well know, 0 Pilate, that the people are When love goes with it; wherefore our Lord's good time not the brothers of those who sit in high places, nor have Let us abide in full faith.

they any equality except among their fellows who dwell with

Are there not kings upon the earth, and high priests, James.

and governors of great dignity and many slaves ? Why an

swerest thou not a word ? What are we

Act I., sc. III. That we should question him?

Pontius Pilate equally with Judas Iscariot, is raised Judas.

out of his “ monster” character, and represented as he But while his power

truly was—a Roman magistrate of average, or rather

John.

them.