le
and human, and there is hardly a poem in the volume that English lips
might not have uttered. Sounds of the Temple has much in it that is
interesting in metre as well as in matter:--

Then sighed a poet from his soul:
'The clouds are blown across the stars,
And chill have grown my lattice bars;
I cannot keep my vigil whole
By the lone candle of my soul.

'This reed had once devoutest tongue,
And sang as if to its small throat
God listened for a perfect note;
As charily this lyre was strung:
God's praise is slow and has no tongue.'

But the best poem is undoubtedly the Hymn to the Mountain:--

Within the hollow of thy hand--
This wooded dell half up the height,
Where streams take breath midway in flight--
Here let me stand.

Here warbles not a lowland bird,
Here are no babbling tongues of men;
Thy rivers rustling through the glen
Alone are heard.

Above no pinion cleaves its way,
Save when the eagle's wing, as now,
With sweep imperial shades thy brow
Beetling and grey.

What thoughts are thine, majestic peak?
And moods that were not born to chime
With poets' ineffectual rhyme
And numbers weak?

The green earth spreads thy gaze before,
And the unfailing skies are brought
Within the level of thy thought.
There is no more.

The stars salute thy rugged crown
With syllables of twinkling fire;
Like choral burst from distant choir,
Their psalm rolls down.

And I within this temple niche,
Like statue set where prophets talk,
Catch strains they murmur as they walk,
And I am rich.

Miss Ella Curtis's A Game of Chance is certainly the best novel that this
clever young writer has as yet produced. If it has a fault, it is that
it is crowded with too much incident, and often surrenders the study of
character to the development of plot. Indeed, it has many plots, each of
which, in more economical hands, would have served as the basis of a
complete story. We have as the central incident the career of a clever
lady's-maid who personifies her mistress, and is welcomed by Sir John
Erskine, an English country gentleman, as the widow of his dead son. The
real husband of the adventuress tracks his wife to England, and claims
her. She pretends that he is insane, and has him removed. Then he tries
to murder her, and when she recovers, she find