Brief hour of human purity and truth! Malignant Envy, in the bland disguise Of friendship, stole, yea, twined his serpent folds Around fair Wisdom’s consecrated Tree. “Eat, woman, eat—ye shall _not_ surely die!” Thus spake the tempter of mankind. _They ate_— A sudden darkness gathered o’er the sky. _Wild raged the storm, earth’s firm foundations shook,_ _While ocean trembled from her deepest cells;_ _Blue, livid lightnings flashed with lurid glare,_ _Wreathing in flames the blackened arch of heaven;_ While the loud thunder’s deep, continuous roar Proclaimed, in God’s _own voice_, that Man was _lost_! The four verses we have italicised are fiercely grand; more terrible than any we ever saw, except those by which they are succeeded. After the thunder-clap, lions roared, tigers yelled, hyenas cried, wolves howled, leviathans drifted ashore, birds of ill omen shrieked, and there was a dreadful rumpus in general among beasts, such as are usually to be seen in a Zoological Garden. The Arch-Enemy chuckles over this sport, rives his chain, and stalks over the globe, taking the precaution, however, to veil his hideous form and smile demoniac, (why, we cannot well perceive,) and finally speaks. His observations are left to the ingenuity of the reader; but he had no sooner “concluded his remarks,” than “Wild spirits filled the air, the earth, The sea.” These we suppose are the Passions, mentioned in the title. Taking them as they are introduced, they are the most outrageous set of ill-behaved monsters that ever were seen, and are as dissimilar to those polite entities, classified under the same names, and said by the Fourrierists to be easily subjected to the domination of reason and the affections, as can well be imagined. It must be noted, however, that Mrs. Ware is more original in the individuals she recommends to our attention as the Passions, than she is in her figures of speech. First, Murder came, his right hand red With the pure blood of his young brother’s heart, For which his own, in every clime and age, Hath deeply paid. “_Cursed art thou!_” said God, And set his mark upon the murderer’s brow. We were not, until now, aware that _Murder_ was a Passion, considering it rather as a deed, consequent upon some one of the Passions. Next in order comes Remorse, “whose step is followed by Despair.” “Next comes Revenge.” And what _Passion_, reader, do you imagine follows next? “’Tis War, insatiate War.” Another new Passion. Afterwards “pale Jealousy is seen,” in an awful taking because “the treasured ideal of his soul is false;” accordingly, he rushes _blindly_ forth, meets his haughty foe, and, though he is blind, “their _eyes_ have met,” and