SONNET FOR YOUTH.

BY CALDER CAMPBELL.

While bees, whose voices in their pinions dwell,
Bazz gladsomely among the summer flowers;
And bright-hued butterflies plunge 'mid the bowers,
Where, bathed in sunshine, thrush and blackbird tell
Their legends musical-in leafy cell

The little crimson lady-bird doth cower,
Defending the young roses in the hour
Of danger, from the cruel flies, whose fell
Attacks destroy their bloom. Oh, children dear,
Protect ye, too, the lady-bird! nor let
Its gentle cares by harshness be repaid.
Admire its beauty-but, with tender fear,
Pause ere ye touch; nor in rash sport forget
That no created thing hath God for torture made

WITCHCRAFT AND THE WITCH-FINDER.

The history of our jurisprudence records in characters of blood the prevalence of the delusions which enabled Mathew Hopkins (the Witch-Finder) to flourish down to a much later period.

In the middle ages the devil was believed to interfere in propria persona with the common concerns of mankind; but as refinement advanced, he was supposed to get into the way of acting by deputy; and witches and wizards were entrusted with the mangement of those affairs which were before under his own immediate superintendence. This persuasion gained ground in England, after many of the greatest minds that ever existed, had shed their light on the land which they ennobled. Age, deformity, and poverty, though it is difficult to imagine that these could be the prizes which satan would offer to encourage sin, were amongst the strongest proofs of guilt. They led to accusation, insured conviction, and were followed by the death of the innocent amidst the execrations of their fellow-creatures. It was not by the foolish, the ignorant, or the cruel, that these proceedings were exclusively sanctioned. The wise, the learned, and the humane concurred in the severities inflicted for crimes which it was not possible for human offenders to commit. The barbarities perpetrated to punish witchcraft were not confined to one country, and exhibit the most awful instances of perverted intellect to be found in the history of mankind.-The Witch-Finder.

THE fact alluded to by our friend, Mr. Gaspey, the author of the above extract, is confirmed by the following sketch, illustrated by an original picture by T. H. Matteson, an American artist, of the private examination of Sarah Good, charged with witchcraft, before Robert Day, Esq., Justice of the Peace, at Salem, Massachusetts, in the year of grace 1601:

'Squire Day was an intelligent and wealthy colonist of that remote period; and although he had his doubts about the truth of all the numerous charges preferred before him against young and middle-aged females, of their flying in the air, bewitching children and young maids, pinching babies, bedeviling cattle, annoying frugal housewives at their churns, by preventing the cream from turning to butter; in short, playing the very devil with whole neighbourhoods of the good and pious Puritans of those ancient days-though, we say, squire Day could not fully credit all these wonders told by the various suitors, yet did he religiously believe that witches actually existed.

It is not strange, then, that when Sarah Good was brought before him, followed by an excited multitude that could scarcely be kept at bay even by the armed officers of justice, he looked upon the gentle girl with an eye of suspicion.

"Who makes this charge against Sarah Good?" quietly inquired the good and pious magistrate.

"It's dame Margery Phillips' baby, whom the foul witch sends nightly into fits!" said one of the constables. The dame will presently be here to show your

honour."

And true enough, dame Phillips did come and tell

her sad story, which moved the heart of 'squire Day, for he himself was a husband and a father. But as he looked at the mild and gentle features of Sarah Good, a doubt still lingered in his mind, and he demanded proof as to how it was known that Sarah was the cause of dame Phillips' baby's nightly anguish.

A number of the town gossips, both male and female, were now examined; but the 'squire saw little in their testimony to convince him of the truth of the awful charge against the fair prisoner.

Owing to the excited state of the people assembled, 'squire Day did not deem it prudent to divulge his present opinions; but he began making out a temporary commitment for Sarah Good, thinking thus to protect her from violence without, when a cry broke upon his ear from out of doors-

66

Goody Samuels, the Witch-finder!" ""Tis her, 'tis her," exclaimed a dozen voices. "Make way for Goody Samuels!" And presently an ugly and malicious-looking old hag presented herself before the worthy magistrate.

'Well, my good woman," said 'squire Day, "do you purpose to examine this young creature? It's scarcely worth while, I think. She had better be taken to the lock-up."

"Humph!" exclaimed the grinning old hag; "I know more about the little minx than you suspect, 'squire. I can show you unmistakeable marks on that fair skin of her's that'll make your blood boil with indignation! She'll not be content, now she's begun, until she drinks the heart's blood of dame Phillips' poor little baby! I am certain of it, your honour. That mild and innocent look of hers this moment bodes revenge; yes, foul revenge. If you, 'squire, knew as much about the habits of these witches as I do, you'd have little pity for the wicked husseys."

“Come,

"Poor girl, indeed!" said Goody Samuels. my innocent, let us take a look at that pretty delicate skin of yours. Let's see what you've got just below your shoulder."

But Sarah shrank from her touch as though some poisonous reptile had threatened her, and burst into tears. The remorseless old hag nevertheless seized her by the arm, and commenced undoing her dress. At this moment a sudden shriek from the poor girl startled the whole court. But still the old woman continued her occupation without noticing it.

"Dear, good Mrs. Samuels," cried the terrified girl, "do not, pray do not take off my dress here!"

"Hold your tongue, wicked witch that you are!" cried Goody Samuels. "If you don't want I should put a few pins and needles into your delicate little back, just you keep still and say nought. The business, too, will get sooner over, and you'll then be all ready for the gallows."

The unfortunate girl sobbed in silence, while her tormentor carefully removed each article of dress, displaying the skin white and delicate as alabaster, which contrasted strangely enough with the dirty, brown, bony fingers of Goody Samuels.

Here, 'squire Day," exclaimed the old hag, pointing to a black and blue spot under the shoulder-blade of the fair prisoner-"here is a devil's mark so plain that a child could not mistake it. It is just in the place I told you. And here! and here! (pointing to other places) are similar faint prints of the devil's fingers. Why, I truly believe this young wench is a great favourite of his satanship."

"Pray don't say so, Mrs. Samuels," said Sarah, imploringly; "for truly that mark is where you pinch-"

The old hag suddenly stopped Sarah's mouth with her hand. "Will you deny it, you mistress of Satan?" said she. "I see I shall have to try the effect of my pins and needles on your delicate skin. Here, good Thomas Flynt, can you heat me half a dozen needles?" A guardsman at once came forward.

"No! dear Mrs. Samuels, no!" exclaimed the miserable girl. "Pray let me go to prison. Pray do. I'll not say a single word more."

"Well, if the 'squire wants the red hot needles, he'll have them. He will truly do as he thinks best;" said the hag, now well satisfied that her victim would not expose the pinching trick practised at the commencement of the examination.

Squire Day expressed himself perfectly satisfied. The witch-mark found was occular proof to his prejudiced mind that she had dealings with the devil; and he did not hesitate to commit the unhappy girl to prison to take her trial for her life at the next sitting of the court.

At length the time arrived for the court to assemble which was to pass judgment upon the case of the unhappy young girl. Twelve good and lawful freeholders were selected from the town at large; and, being placed in the jury-box, they took the oath that they would a true verdict render according to the evidence, and that with out favour or prejudice.

The prisoner was placed at the bar, and the evidence of dame Phillips was clear and conclusive, so far as related to the fact that her baby was afflicted with fits. But whether the little sufferer was bewitched with the fits, we leave for the reader at this late day to determine.

After the close of dame Phillips' testimony, other witnesses were introduced, who declared in the most solemn manner that poor Sarah was indeed a witch; for that she had appeared to them dressed like a lady, with wings like a bat, and had tormented them, and promised worse treatment if they ever disclosed the fact to their friends. While one of these witnesses (an illfavoured girl of the neighbourhood) was on the witness stand, a circumstance occurred which, though hardly noticed at the time, led at last to scenes of horror and suffering never to be forgotten by that part of the world.

While the face of Sarah Good was turned away from her, the girl suddenly gave a loud scream, and fell upon the floor. Being lifted up, she declared upon oath that she had been stabbed with a knife by the shape or spectre of the accused, while she (the accused, Sarah Good herself) was pretending to hide her face; for a part of this drama consisted in the fact that when Sarah Good was looking at her victims, even at the glance of her eye only, the wretched sufferers would go distracted, as it were, and foam at the mouth, and tear themselves; and then again, at her touch, they would instantly recover. For proof, the accuser plucked forth from her flesh the blade of a knife, declaring that when the blow was made by the spectre the blade broke off as it was on the way to her heart. All the judges were thunderstruck-the people mute with terror. The poor girl herself, who had been locking her hands and bowing her head in prayer, started up with a cry of anguish, and flung her arms abroad, and looked about her on every side as if she had no longer any earthly hope. The accuser echoed her cry, as if struck to the heart anew, and fell forward her whole length upon the floor of the court-room, and lay there for a while as if entirely overcome with sleep or approaching death. Not a breath could be heard in the whole house, not a murmur-there was a dead preternatural quiet everywhere, till she stirred of herself; they were even afraid to touch her. The trial was over, the evidence gone through, the charge itself had been made; and the foreman of the jury stood up to render the verdict of death. But before he could speak, a

tumult was heard afar off, growing louder and louder every moment, and nearer and nearer; the multitude swayed this way and that a bustle followed at the very door, and straightway appeared an elderly swarthy man, with a fierce look, dragging in a large boy by the shoulder, lifting him along as if he were a shadow, and making his way through the crowd like a giant.

"What ho!" cried he to to the judge. "What ho!" to the foreman of the jury, as they quailed and trembled at his approach. "Why speed ye thus in the work of death? And you, the bailly, and you, Judge Mather, and you, Captain Sewall, who are sitting there to judge the quick and the dead, how dare ye? Who gave you power to measure and weigh such mystery? Are ye of the gifted and the powerful-specially gifted from on high-with power to see spirits, and able to take the Prince of Darkness himself by the horns ?" "Who is it ?-who is it? Whom have you there?" said Captain Sewall.

Master Burroughs, I believe," replied one of the judges.

Burroughs continued, "Am I to be fooled, and thwarted, and betrayed at every step of my life, that you may be left free here to lord it over the church, and waste the heritage of the widow and the fatherless?"

"Who is that boy?" said the judge.

"Ask him behold his beauty. Set him face to face, if you dare, with her that told the story of the knife."

"And wherefore?" asked one of the judges.

Wherefore, Andrew Elliot! wherefore !-wait, and you shall know. There is no hurry. It may be time enough a week hence, or a month, or a whole year, for such as you to throw away again immortal hopesyour very souls--by spilling the blood of the innocent?"

"Oh, sir, sir!” cried the miserable Sarah Good. "God for ever bless you! Why did you go away from those who knew you, and loved you, and trusted you? Why did you ever leave us? and why, to the tender mercies of men who have no compassion, even for their own mothers; nay, even for their own offspring?"

"Be of good faith, Sarah. The Lord thy God shall be nigh to thee, and comfort thee. Have courage, Sarah, and put all thy trust in Him that hath power to deliver thee."

"Ah, sir, I have; I do. And pray that His will may be done, sir-on earth as it is in heaven."

"Have courage, Sarah." And then turning to the judges, he asked if the boy might be heard."

"If he knows aught of this matter, certainly. What say you, brother Willard?" asked Judge Sewall, turning to a minister of the church on his right.

"Certainly, Captain Sewall, certainly, by all means. We are never too late, I hope, for mercy and truth. Let the boy be sworn."

The boy having stepped forth, uplifted his right hand, according to the law of that people, with his fine yellow hair blowing about his head like a glory, and swore to the everlasting God, the searcher of hearts, to speak the truth. All eyes were upon him; for he stood face to face with her who had sworn to the spectre-knife; and his beauty was terrible. Near him, with her young eyes lifted up to his, and her lips apart, stood Bridget Pope (a bosom friend of the prisoner), leaning forward as if holding her breath and just ready to fali-such was the eager intensity of her attitude, the passionless, motionless, and statue-like expression of her countenance.

After a short pause the boy declared that, only the day before, he had broken a small knife and threw away a part of the blade while the accuser was with him; that he knew her well, and that being outside the door when he heard the story, he suspected how the matter was, and strove to get in, but was prevented by

4

the pressure, and would not have had courage to speak out, when he saw the people so quiet around him, and so wedged together, but for the help of the stranger, whom he saw afar off, and to whom he told the story. Whereupon," said the boy," he lifted me up with one hand, as if I had been a little child, and brought me here, making his way through the people there with only two or three sweeps of his arm. Here is the other part of the knife," he added, reaching up to one of the judges who was nearest a handle with a part❘ of the blade. "You may see, Mr. Judge, it's the very same. Bridgy Pope, there-you may ask her, if you don't believe me; she knows that are knife well enough, don't you, Bridgy?"

"That I do," she whispered in reply, the tears running down her pale cheeks. "That I do, Robert Evelett; but I never expected to see it again, nor you either, after you were cast away."

The two parts of the blade were diligently compared by the judges, and found to agree; the boy was treated with favour; the accuser, a little fat girl, was rebuked for lying-but this did not avert the fate of poor Sarah Good. A multitude of other witnesses were brought against her, some of whom swore that Sarah Good was in the habit of appearing to them and putting them into fits similar to the fits of Dame Phillips' baby-that when the fit was on, they were distorted and convulsed in every limb; that they were pinched black and blue; that pins were found stuck in their flesh by invisible hands; that they were scalded as with hot water, and blistered as with fire; that one of the afflicted was beset by a spectre with a sharp spindle, which nobody could see, till in her agony she snatched it away from the spectre, when it instantly became visible to everybody about her; that another was haunted by a shape that wore a sheet, which none but the afflicted were able to see till she tore a piece of it away, on which everybody was able to see it; that poison was offered by invisible creatures, which poison, if but a drop of it touched the lips, or even the flesh, made the body swell up to bursting

And this juice of hell,
Wherever it fell,

To a cinder burned the floor;

that burning rags were forced into their mouths, leaving incurable sores; that they were branded with a hot iron, so that marks were left upon their foreheads for life, that the spectres were careful to personate such as were known to the afflicted; and that, if in such case, the shape or spectre was hurt by the afflicted, the person represented by the spectre was sure to be hurt in the same way.

All these, and even more, charges were brought against Sarah Good. One Dorcas Hoare testified that oftentimes she had been bitten with a peculiar set of teeth, which she knew to be the identical teeth of Sarah Good. She described these teeth, and true enough the description was correct. She had also seen Sarah in company with a tall black man, who carried a book and tried to get her to touch it, but she refused; because she had heard that touching it would be virtually acknowledging the power and authority of the said black man over her. All this was the truth, and she (Dorcas) “would declare it even if she were herself on the gallows."

IANTHE.

Homeless beside a thousand hearths.

Wreathe the glossy bay and laurel, twine the holly's clus ters red,

With the sacred mistletoe, and the ivy worshipped! Wildly is the tempest howling, fiercely beats the pelting hail,

Closer draw the damask curtains, heed not now its fearful

wail.

Gather round the hearth in gladness, with the merry laugh and song;

Joyous are the fleeting moments!-will ye not the mirth prolong?

Far away be grief and sadness! hence the discord of the mind!

In the world of tempest yonder leave all warring thoughts behind.

Hark! a low and feeble wailing 'tween each fearful tempestpause

Who is this, with hair dishevelled, gasping in the whirlwind's jaws?

She hath known a better portion, she hath dwelt in lordly halls,

And the sun-light of her spirit brightened to affection's calls. Vanished pomp, and gold, and splendour, vanished e'en a

homely hearth

What hath she to chain her spirit to the dark and changeful earth?

On she speedeth-onward, onward!-whither do her footsteps tend?

At yon lighted hall she pauseth-hath she there an only friend?

In the days of youth and gladness she hath trod that velvet floor,

Fairest of the fair who glideth through its gilded foldingdoor:

What bath changed her?-crime or sorrow? Now amid that circle bright,

None may listen to her pleading, on such gay and festive night!

What hath changed her? More than sister! thou who shar'dst her childhood's dreams,

Blent thy spirit with her spirit, drank with her of friend

ship's streams,

Hast thou not one word of welcome? one sweet smile of

earnest love?

Is the past a vision only, radiant with the light it wove? Brother! O far more than brother! thou who sought'st

her heart of hearts,

Whispered'st burning words of passion, breath'dst of love's tormenting darts,

Dost thou slight her? Unforgotten are thy vows of deathless truth,

youth!

But the unhappy prisoner did not notice the verdict. She had fainted on hearing the fearful denunciations of Dorcas Hoare. In just four days from that time the beautiful Sarah Good perished on the gallows.