h want, and wild with enthusiasm
and strange sorrows, retained no trace of earlier beauty. This figure
stood gazing earnestly on the audience, and there was no sound, nor any
movement, except a faint shuddering which every man observed in his
neighbor, but was scarcely conscious of in himself. At length, when her
fit of inspiration came, she spoke, for the first few moments in a low
voice and not invariably distinct utterance. Her discourse gave evidence
of an imagination hopelessly entangled with her reason; it was a vague
and incomprehensible rhapsody, which, however, seemed to spread its own
atmosphere round the hearer's soul, and to move his feelings by some
influence unconnected with the words. As she proceeded, beautiful but
shadowy images would sometimes be seen, like bright things moving in a
turbid river; or a strong and singularly shaped idea leaped forth, and
seized at once on the understanding or the heart. But the course of her
unearthly eloquence soon led her to the persecutions of her sect, and
from thence the step was short to her own peculiar sorrows. She was
naturally a woman of mighty passions, and hatred and revenge now wrapped
themselves in the garb of piety; the character of her speech was
changed, her images became distinct though wild, and her denunciations
had an almost hellish bitterness.

"The governor and his mighty men," she said, "have gathered together,
taking counsel among themselves and saying, 'What shall we do unto this
people--even unto the people that have come into this land to put our
iniquity to the blush?' And lo! the Devil entereth into the
council-chamber, like a lame man of low stature and gravely apparelled,
with a dark and twisted countenance, and a bright, downcast eye. And he
standeth up among the rulers; yea, he goeth to and fro, whispering to
each; and every man lends his ear, for his word is, 'Slay, slay!' But I
say unto ye, Woe to them that slay! Woe to them that shed the blood of
saints! Woe to them that have slain the husband, and cast forth the
child, the tender infant, to wander homeless, and hungry, and cold, till
he die; and have saved the mother alive, in the cruelty of their tender
mercies! Woe to them in their lifetime, cursed are they in the delight
and pleasure of their hearts! Woe to them in their death-hour, whether
it come swiftly with blood and violence, or after long and lingering
pain! Woe, in the dark house, in the rottenness of the grave, when the
ch