When the curse is repeated, Prometheus addresses the Spirit of the Earth:

triumph of the same kind, in which, how-equalled by anything in Eschylus or ever, fancy predominates rather than imagi- Goethe. nation; but in which the description of natural scenery is rendered subservient to dramatic purposes, and thus gains tenfold beauty and propriety, in De Vere's noble poem of the "Waldenses." A dignified ecclesiastic finds himself ascending a glen in the valley of Rosa:

"Cardinal. This cloud-heap'd tempest
Roars like a river down yon dim ravine!-
See you! those pines are tortured by the storm,
To shapes more gnarl'd than their roots-fantastic
As are the thoughts of some arch-heretic,
That have no end-aye, self-entangling snares-
Nets for the fowls of air!"

"Were these my words, oh Parent?
The Earth. They were thine.
Prom. It doth repent me; words are quick and vain,

Grief for awhile is blind, and so is mine;
I wish no living thing to suffer pain."

We wish greatly that we had room for the scene in which Asia and Panthea are represented as on their journey to the cave of Demogorgon, a mighty spirit superior to Jupiter, but himself bound by the Fates. In the description of the dreams that suggest the journey, in the songs of Spirits accompanying or welcoming Asia and Panthea as they advance, in the change of external nature and all its objects, animate and inanimate, when breathed on by the spirit of love; every word of Shelley's has its own peculiar beauty. This may be, and no doubt often is, as the author of Philip Van Artevelde has told us, a fault, and poetry should be, in the words of Milton, simple rather than subtle and fine; yet here the language is spiritual as that of Ariel, and the fancy of the hearer already awakened and alive, conjures up images as rapidly as the successive words can suggest them. To

Shelley's Prometheus, though inferior to the Cenci in the concentration of power, is a poem of wonderful beauty. These mythical legends easily mould themselves to any shape the poet pleases. When Shelley wrote Queen Mab he recommended abstinence from animal food, and even doubted the fitness of eating any vegetables except raw. The story of Prometheus then typified to his fancy the cruel man who first killed the ox, and used fire for culinary purposes. In the Prometheus of 1819, he gives the legend another color. Evil is an usurpation and an accident, and is finally to pass away through the effects of diffused knowledge and the predominance of good do anything like justice to this passage, will, to the triumph of man acting in the we should print several pages of the poem. spirit of love. The language of many of The scene in which Jupiter himself is prethe old mythologists represents Jupiter as a sented, is we think altogether a failure. disobedient son dethroning Saturn, and the The change which earth is supposed to unrestoration of Saturnian times is anticipat- dergo in consequence of his actual fall, is ed. On this view is Shelley's drama found-represented in a number of choral hymns, ed. "Prometheus is the type of the highest and this part of the poem is unequal to the perfection of moral and intellectual nature, two first acts. impelled by the purest and truest motives The Prometheus and the Cenci were both to the best and noblest ends." With the written in Italy. "The Prometheus," says exception of a passage which we have before Shelley, was written upon the mountainadverted to as deforming the drama, it is ous ruins of the Baths of Caracalla, among a work of the very highest power. The the flowery glades and thickets of odoriferous opening is in the spirit of Eschylus, and blossoming trees, which are extended in we think equal. În Eschylus the gifts ever-winding labyrinths upon its immense which Prometheus is supposed to have given platforms, and dizzy arches suspended in to man, are somewhat inartificially made the air. The bright blue sky of Rome, the subject of boasting by Prometheus him- and the effect of the vigorous awakening of self; in Shelley they are more naturally and more gracefully related by Asia. The scene in which Prometheus desires to bear the curse which he had imprecated against Jupiter, and the calling up the phantasm of Jupiter himself to pronounce it, because he will not expose any living thing to the suffering consequent on uttering it, is un

spring in that divinest climate, and the new. life with which it drenches the spirits even to intoxication, were the inspiration of this drama.”

KEATS died at Rome in February, 1821, and Shelley's poem on his death is perhaps the poem of all others of his, which, carefully studied, gives the truest notion of his mind.

It is scarce possible that it should ever be At no period of Shelley's life did he enpopular in the ordinary meaning of the word, joy good health; and when he and Byron or should excite admiration in the same lived in the same neighborhood," he was way as the "Cenci," or some scenes of the too much broken in upon and distracted by "Prometheus." As in the case of Mil- society to concentrate his mind on any one ton's "Lycidas," the reader has to trans- subject." To him the society of Byron pose himself into an imagined position, must have been in every way injurious. without the aid which dramatic forms give Indeed, Moore's "Life of Byron," and to produce that effect. "Lycidas" was not Medwin's "Conversations," give abundant only not understood when it was first pub-proof that it was so in every higher point of lished, but the reader has only to look at view; and even intellectually its effect was any of the editions of Milton, with illus- to prevent his writing. Byron did not read trative notes, to see that it is still misunder- Shelley's poems; at least so one of his stood, even by his best commentators-so letters says; and Shelley describes himself gradually and so slowly is it that the class as the glowworm which ceased to emit its of poetry which would overfly common light in sunshine. Whenever Shelley, then, sympathies, and address itself to any peculiar state of feelings, is appreciated. In the Adonais among the mountain shepherds -the imagined mourners for the deadShelley describes himself; and it is some evidence how little the poem is understood, that we have repeatedly seen the lines quoted as Shelley's description of Chatter--which were the consequence of his early

ton.

"'Midst others

Of less note-came one frail form
A phantom among men: companionless
As the last cloud of an expiring storm,
Whose thunder is its knell; he, as I guess,
Had gazed on nature's naked loveliness
Actæon-like, and now he fled astray
With feeble steps o'er the world's wilderness,
And his own thoughts, along that rugged way
Pursued, like raging hounds, their father and
their prey.

"A pard-like spirit, beautiful and swift,

A love in desolation mask'd-a Power
Girt round with weakness:-it can scarce uplift
The weight of the superincumbent hour;
It is a dying lamp, a falling shower,
A breaking billow; even whilst we speak
Is it not broken?

"All stood aloof-well knew that gentle band Who in another's fate now wept his own."

The poem closes-as Mrs. Shelley has remarked-with words almost prophetic of his own approaching fate.

"The breath, whose might I have invoked in

song,

Descends on me: my spirit's bark is driven
Far from the shore, far from the trembling throng,
Whose sails were never to the tempest given;
The massy earth and sphered skies are riven!
I am borne darkly, fearfully afar;
Whilst, burning through the inmost veil of
heaven

The soul of Adonais, like a star,

was not supported by dramatic forms, which compelled him to assume the language and the passions of men, and thus to appeal to our common sympathies, he shrank from the contemplation of his own sufferings, and of the wrongs-as he supposed them to be, and as they perhaps were

alienation from his family and natural friends and retired into a world of dream and mysticism. In this spirit, "The Witch of Altun," "The Triumph of Life," and the "The Epipsychidion," are written. In these we think he exhibits more thoughtful appreciation of the powers of language than is apparent in his greater works; but in all these there is an almost morbid life, as if each particle lived and were releasing itself from the vital action of imagination that ought to have animated all. From this fault, his strong good sense-the disin all his later letters-would have untinguishing attribute of his mind as proved doubtedly rescued him. From these poems of more subtle woof, of which the colors seem to exist only in particular dispositions of light and shade, it would be idle to give any extracts. They are often of consummate beauty.

There is no great English poet who has not at times exercised himself in translation. It is spoken lightly of only by those who know nothing whatever of the subject on which they are speaking; but none more than the poets who have best succeeded, know how "miserably inadequate" translation must always be. Yet there are circumstances in which this exertion of mind is possible when works properly original are out of the question. Carey's Dante, Cowper's Homer, perhaps Coleridge's Wal* See Shelley's Essays and Letters from Abroad,

Beacons from the abode where the Eternal are." I vol. ii., p. 249.

lenstein, are instances of this. Shelley, in semblance of a meaning. Metaphors are one of his letters, says he will not allow dangerous things, and "looms" bring with himself to be seduced into translation; and them the thought of "weaving;" but "inthere can be little doubt that powers of the terwoven looms" defy all interpretation. same kind, that in moments of happiness This Mr. Medwin thinks very admirable. would be better employed in original" The fragment leaves on the mind an inworks, are required for this task. What extinguishable regret"-such is his absurd Shelley, however, shrank from at first, was language-" that he had not completed it; at last assumed by him from the prompt- nay, more, that he did not employ himself ings of a generous spirit. He could not in rendering others of the finest passages.' assist the periodical work which Byron and Can the "interwoven looms" have been Leigh Hunt projected, by original contribu- Shelley's? Is it not probable that there is tions; and it occurred to him that Hunt some mistake in the transcript? might be served by a few specimens from Calderon and Goethe. This originated his "Scenes from Faust," and "The Magico Prodigioso." Some inaccuracies have been pointed out in the translations from Goethe, which so far injure their effect. The translations from Calderon are, we think, in every way superior to his "Scenes from Faust," with the wild song chanted by Mephistopheles, Faust, and Ignis Fatuus, as they ascend the Hartz Mountains.

Shelley, in sending his " Prometheus" to a friend, observed that poets are a cameleon race, and in their colors exhibit the ground over which they are travelling, and he expresses fears lest he may have unconsciously imitated Faust. It is more certain that in translating "Faust," he adopts his own former language of "Prometheus," and heightens the effect by a line or two scarcely altered from the songs of Asia and Panthea. Of his translations, the best indeed we think the best translation in the language-is Homer's Hymn to Mercury. Its power, too, is of a kind which no other work of Shelley's would prepare us for. We cannot but think that his " Peter Bell the Third," and "Edipus Swellfoot," which Mrs. Shelley has given in her last edition of his works, and which we hope she may feel herself at liberty to omit from every future one, are exceedingly heavy. Were it not for his translation of this hymn, we should have thought that he had no appreciation of true humor.

" And earnest to explore within, around,
That divine wood, whose thick, green living woof
Temper'd the young day to the sight, I wound
Up a green slope, beneath the starry roof,
With slow, slow steps, leaving the mountain's
And sought those leafy labyrinths, motion-proof
Against the air that in that stillness deep
And solemn, struck upon my forehead bare
Like the sweet breathing of a child in sleep.

steep,

Already had I lost myself so far
Perceived not where I enter'd; but no fear
Amid that tangled wilderness, that 1
Of wandering from my way disturb'd, when nigh
A little stream appear'd; the grass that grew
Thick on its banks impeded suddenly
My going on. Water of purest dew
On earth would appear turbid and impure
Compared with this, whose unconcealing hue
Dark, dark, yet clear, moved under the obscure
No ray of moon or sunshine would endure.
Of the close boughs, whose interwoven looms
My feet were motionless; but 'mid the glooms
Darted my charmed eyes contemplating
The mighty multitude of fresh May blooms
That starr'd that night, when even as a thing
That suddenly for blank astonishment
Charms every sense, and makes all thought take
She went
Singing, and gathering flower after flower,
With which her way was painted and besprent.

Appear'd a solitary maid.
wing,

Bright lady! who, if looks had ever power
To bear true witness of the heart within,
Unto this bank-prithee, oh! let me win
Dost bask under the beams of love, come lower
This much of thee-oh, come! that I may hear
Thy song. Like Proserpine, in Enna's glen,
Thou seemest to my fancy-singing here,
And gathering flowers, as that fair maiden, when
She lost the spring, and Ceres her-more dear!"

In Mr. Medwin's book we find a passage from the Purgatory of Dante, translated by Shelley, which we have not before seen. It perhaps deserves preservation; but it is not, we think, equal to the corresponding passage in Carey. The fantastic image of With these lines we close our notice of the interwoven looms" in Shelley has no Shelley. There are some subjects connectwarrant from anything in the original. Weed with it, at which we have not had time can imagine the exigencies of rhyme suggesting the word "looms" and the poet deceiving himself with assigning to it the

to glance. As far, however, as they connect themselves with the philosophy of language, which an examination of Shelley's

works almost forces on the mind, future, promote the happiness of all with whom he opportunities of considering the way in was in any way connected-there are none which the words in which thought is ex- more entirely satisfied than we. And the pressed re-act on the mind itself, will no evidence-which we have been the first to doubt arise. As far as the speculations on produce-given by his Pamphlet on Iresociety are concerned, and on the awful land, of the young reformer calling on those subjects which, in his earliest youth, Shelley whom he addresses to begin by reforming ventured to discuss, we think that we should themselves, may prove that ardent as was be guilty of actual irreverence in introduc- the passion for reforming society with ing any rash discussion on them in a paper which he was reproached, it was tempered devoted to a subject purely literary. In with discretion. Mrs. Shelley has led us to the course of our paper, it was impossible hope that at some future time a detailed that we should not have expressed strongly account of Shelley's life may be published our feelings that Shelley was throughout by herself, or with her sanction. We trust wrong in all his speculations on religion and that such purpose, if still entertained, may morals. But of himself-of his own purity not be interrupted or interfered with by of views-generosity of conduct-gentle- Captain Medwin's unreadable and preness of disposition, and unwearied efforts to sumptuous book.

From the Dublin University Magazine.

MADEMOISELLE LENORMAND.

MANY of our readers, no doubt, are familiar | about her, even then, unlike other children, with the name of the extraordinary person and calculated to give the impression that who, since the year 1789, has practised the the little king's charity-scholar was not alarts of chiromancy and astrology in the together "canny." She remembers," French capital, and who, in the most scep- writes one who was much in communication tical epoch, and among the most sceptical with her between the years 1811 and 1813, people of modern times, has been able to having a singular power of observation maintain, for more than half a century, the and imagination since she was seven years reputation of an almost infallible interpre-old, and an expression she often uses, in ter of the decrees of fate. Some anecdotes reference to that period of her life, is-I of this Pythoness of our own days, derived was a waking somnambulist." At an early from sources which we have reason to be-age, Paris became her abode, and here we lieve authentic, are offered in the following find her, in her seventeenth year, already pages to those who take interest in such things. Of what may seem to verge on the marvellous, in the circumstances we have to relate, it is not our task to supply the rationale; we leave that as a problem for our psychological friends, to whose ken there is no mist impenetrable, no millstone opaque. He that can fathom animal magnetism may try his plummet in the mysteries of the palm and of the stars: we go not into matters that would take us out of our depth.

embarked in the profession of a fortuneteller, and applying herself with ardor to the study of astronomy and algebra, the knowledge of which she believed indispensable to the perfection she aimed at in the divinatory art. She rose rapidly into note The persons who came, led perhaps more by curiosity than by credulity, to test her prophetic powers, were confounded by the acquaintance she displayed with the most secret details of their past history, and learned to place a reluctant confidence, at Mademoiselle Lenormand was born in variance with all their habits of thought, in 1772, at Alençon, in Normandy, and re- her predictions of the future. Meanwhile, ceived her education in the Benedictine the revolution proceeded, and it was the convent of that place, at the royal expense. lot of our Pythoness to become involved in The good nuns were far from dreaming one of the countless plots which the diswhat an embryo sorceress their cloister tracted times were hourly bringing forth. nursed in its bosom; though by her own It was a project for the liberation of the account, there must have been something queen, then in the Temple prison, which