for ever, from all men. It chanced, my cousin knew of such a den;
deep hidden in a mountain's hoary breast, on which the eagle builds his
airy nest. And thither offered he the saint to guide. Next day upon the
journey forth we hied; and came, at the second eve, with weary pace,
unto the lonely mountain's rugged base. Here the worn traveller, falling
on her knee, did pray awhile in sacred ecstasy; and, drawing off her
sandals from her feet, marched, naked, towards that desolate retreat. No
answer made she to our cries or groans; but walking midst the prickles
and rude stones, a staff in hand, we saw her upwards toil; nor ever did
she pause, nor rest the while, save at the entry of that savage den.
Here, powerless and panting, fell she then.

"JUNIA.--What was her name, my daughter?

"STELLA. MAGDALEN."

Here the translator must pause--having no inclination to enter "the
tabernacle," in company with such a spotless high-priest as Monsieur
Dumas.

Something "tabernacular" may be found in Dumas's famous piece of "Don
Juan de Marana." The poet has laid the scene of his play in a vast
number of places: in heaven (where we have the Virgin Mary and little
angels, in blue, swinging censers before her!)--on earth, under the
earth, and in a place still lower, but not mentionable to ears polite;
and the plot, as it appears from a dialogue between a good and a bad
angel, with which the play commences, turns upon a contest between these
two worthies for the possession of the soul of a member of the family of
Marana.

"Don Juan de Marana" not only resembles his namesake, celebrated by
Mozart and Moliere, in his peculiar successes among the ladies, but
possesses further qualities which render his character eminently
fitting for stage representation: he unites the virtues of Lovelace
and Lacenaire; he blasphemes upon all occasions; he murders, at the
slightest provocation, and without the most trifling remorse; he
overcomes ladies of rigid virtue, ladies of easy virtue, and ladies of
no virtue at all; and the poet, inspired by the contemplation of such
a character, has depicted his hero's adventures and conversation with
wonderful feeling and truth.

The first act of the play contains a half-dozen of murders and
intrigues; which would have sufficed humbler genius than M. Dumas's, for
the completion of, at least, half a dozen tragedies. In the second act
our hero flogs his elder brother, and runs away with his sister-in-law;
in