Mr. Matthew Arnold’s remark to a like effect in his admirable essay on translating Homer was curiously anticipated by Tickell in the preface to his (or Addison’s) version of the first book of the _Iliad_, where he says the double epithets of the _Iliad_, “though elegant and sonorous in the Greek, become either unintelligible, unmusical, or burlesque in English.” He adds: “I cannot but observe that Virgil, that sunge in a language much more capable of composition than ours, hath often conformed to this rule.” Footnote 7: Mr. Morris here unaccountably sacrifices an opportunity. _Decurrens aureus arce_ the Latin is, and yet he gives us “castle” instead of “burg,” which, in his own translating dialect, is the true meaning of _arx_. To such shifts will rhyme reduce the ablest translators! ST. CUTHBERT. Behold the shepherd lad of Lammermuir Tending his small flock on the uplands bleak. Alone he seems, yet to his young heart speak Voices that none may hear except the pure. His dreaming eyes—where duller souls, secure Of earth alone, see naught—are quick to seek Angels howe’er disguised; and week by week The higher call within grows clear and sure. Now see him, humbly clad, with staff in hand, Thread the wild vales of Tweed and Teviot, To bear God’s Word through a benighted land, And bless with prayer each peasant’s lonely cot. Brave soul wert thou, though few thy worth may sing, Thou chosen saint of England’s noblest king. PILATE’S STORY. Caligula was reigning, C. Marcius was prætor at Vienne, in Dauphiny, when a litter, escorted by a number of cavaliers, one evening entered the triumphal gate of this metropolis of Gaul. Many gathered together at the unusual display. On the door of the modest little house before which they stopped, and which stood close by the Temple of Mars, was the name of F. Albinus in bright red letters. An old man, tall in stature, but now bent with age and fatigue, alighted from the litter, and, preceded by two of his attendant Hebrew slaves, entered the reception-room, where he was greeted by his friend, the master of the house. After having bathed and received the usual attentions at the hands of the slaves, he proceeded with his host to the supper-room to enjoy the evening meal. The lamps were lighted, and Albinus was alone with the new guest, with whom he entered into conversation as soon as the dish of fresh eggs was placed before them. “Many years have passed since we separated,” said Albinus; “let us empty a cup of Rhone wine to your return.”