"Here's a toast to the lips that first whisper'd of Love, 'Midst tremblings and kisses, Are stars to the soul In a world such as this is." By my troth, a good song-a right merry song-a very good song," interrupted the Baron: "give him wine-more wine: old Glenalvon was pretty choice of his wines, it seems." The minstrel frowned: "And you seem to be making pretty free with them too," was his remark. 66 Right, right. Ha, ha!-but, warder, are the gates fast closed? or while we are listening here to the sound of music, the foe may come in, and, like the Danes, we may be entrapped to our cost." "The Danes are not the last who may be entrapped to their cost by the sound of harp and the voice of music," observed the minstrel drily. "Right again. By my soul, but you are a shrewd lad. Come, Edgar, drink! drink while you may. What did she say? that tomorrow's sun shall shine upon our graves. Ha, ha! Drink then while we may, for to-morrow we shall drink no more— Edamus et bibamus, cras enim moriemur,' as the Priest says, when he reads from that book called the what is it called?-but, never mind: what else does it say?" "Woe to them that drink wine and strong drink," answered the minstrel. "Ha! is it so? Then is there woe in my cup, and in old Glenalvon's too, if one may guess from his wine store. Ha, ha! The minstrel's eyes flashed fire. "You seem to make very free with the name of old Glenalvon, as you call him—may be, if he were here, he would not thank you for your civility." "Ah! what? my pretty youth-thou hast a good spirit, truly; but what is this Glenalvon to thee? Didst thou play to him when his daughter sat upon his knee, and fondled him with her childish caresses?. -was she not a beautiful girl, think ye?" The minstrel's brow was again clouded. "I have seen the Lord of Glenalvon," he replied, "when his daughter sat upon his knee-and have heard him bless her, and pray that her innocence may be always her protection from the wiles of villainy." The Baron answered not; and again the wine, and again the song went round. Ere another hour had elapsed, they were lying fast asleep upon the floor. The minstrel left the room. The three sons of the Lord of Glenalvon were alone in their cheerless dungeon, while the above scene was being transacted in the hall of their father's castle. "Our sister Rosalie!" said the youngest: "Poor girl! if she were but safe from the power of those ruthless tyrants! Would that Arcourt D'Avency were here: his arm is brave, and his sword is strong." "And for the love of Rosalie, he would wield it in our defence." "Fierce and inhuman monsters!" exclaimed the eldest, who partook of the fiery nature of his father. "My brain burns with fury at the thought but no! they dare not harm her-she is too innocent-wretches as they are, they dare not." "Eh! dare they not?" returned the other. "Saw you how they exulted over the corpse of our mother, when she lay bloody and headless upon the turf? Oh, my God! that I could break from this prison. How came Rosalie here but now?" "The keeper admitted her to follow Father Gregory-but the door is fast now; I heard the bolt turn when he went out Hark! it is opened again," continued the speaker, as a harsh grating sound echoed upon their ears. And it was indeed opened, and the noise of footsteps was heard advancing along the passage that led to their dungeon. The being stood at the threshold. "To life or death?" said the elder brother. "To life and freedom!" answered the stranger. "Do ye know me?" "The figure is that of Waltheof, the minstrel, but the voice is not his-it should be that of Rosalie-" "Bravo! bravo! And have I so disguised myself, that even my own brothers do not know me?" "What! Is it Rosalie? Why, how is this?" "Ask no questions, but follow me quickly: you are free!" They waited not for a second invitation: in a few minutes they had reached the court-yard. "For heaven's sake, who has done this?" was their simultaneous exclamation, as they looked towards the mass of building which formed the interior of the castle. The whole was wrapped in volumes of smoke-flames were bursting forth from every window. "For heaven's sake, who has done this, Rosalie? and who has blackened thy face, and disguised thee in the habit of the Saxon Waltheof?" 66 Yffa, the Saxon woman, blackened my face," replied Rosalie; "and she clothed me in her son's garments, and she gave me his harp, and she bade me go forth and give them music and melody. I did so, my brothers, and they knew me not,-knew not the poor girl, who but a while ago knelt at their feet till she was spurned from them -knew me not in the Saxon boy's disguise. I saw the fumes of the wine—our father's wine-render them senseless. Oh, my brothers, we are free now!" "But who kindled yon flames? who fired that building?" "I kindled those flames-I fired that building-I piled up faggots from the court-yard, and without trembling applied the torch. I saw the flames rise higher and higher, till they kindled the beautiful roof and the carved wood-work, upon which our father so prided himself. I saw our enemies fall, even as those scorched and blackened walls shall fall. What of it? said I not, that to-morrow's sun should shine upon their graves? The castle of Glenalvon perishes with fire; the flames which destroy the glory of our ancestors have destroyed our foes! My brethren!-WE ARE FREE!" One year had scarcely elapsed since the destruction of Glenalvon castle, ere a new and splendid building had arisen upon its site. Tower after tower, battlement after battlement, shot up one after another. It seemed almost the work of magic. Nor was this all. On a fine summer morning a bridal procession might have been seen to emerge from the walls of the castle, and pursue its progress till it arrived at the chapel belonging to the fortress and village of Glenalvon. There were youths and maidens with white banners and garlands of flowers, and there was the sound of music, and the melody of the harp. The bridegroom wore a large red cross upon his shoulder, a token that he had fought in the Holy Wars in Palestine. Three brothers followed in the procession: they were the three sons of the Lord of Glenalvon, and, reader-the bride was their sister, Rosalie. W. My Lalage, my Lalage! Aye, there is one that smiles to thee; I see thee weep, I hear thee sigh— On many a night my soul was drear, Yet more than e'er those lips avow, The smile that lightens o'er thy brow; My Lalage, my Lalage! Aye, there is one that smiles to thee; HORATIUS RESTITUTUS. .* LUCIAN. It is not, we believe, generally known, that both the idea of, and many droll incidents related in, the famous history of Baron Munchausen, are directly borrowed from Lucian's "True History." The latter tale a philosopher's recreation, as it professes to be-is one of the most exquisite morsels for a classic tooth to discuss that can be found in the whole range of Greek literature. Though it might appear an anomaly to read Jack the Giant-killer's exploits described in the elaborate style of Gibbon, or the life of Goody-Two-shoes clothed in the most poetic dress with which Mrs. Barbauld or Mrs. Hannah More could invest it; and though it may seem to us ludicrous to apostrophize smoke-jacks and Jack Horners with all the majesty of epic poetry ;* still the reader somehow does not feel any anomaly in perusing the account of the battle between the Sunites and the Moonites, of the gourd-pirates, of the inhabited whale, of the cheeseisland, the ocean-forest, the bridge of water, &c. &c.; couched in the most really poetical, ornamental, and flowery style of the most honied writer of antiquity. We cannot help suggesting-would that our suggestion might be in a single instance acted upon !-that a good deal of birch, and no little trouble, would be saved, were the entertaining, easy, and perfectly classic Greek in which the "True History" is written, substituted in schools for the dry, unconnected, and garbled extracts from the various Greek Historians usually put into the hands of beginners in Greek. We should say, that no better subject than the former could possibly be selected for that purpose. Had Eschylus written "the Babes in the Wood" in Greek Iambics, he would have been more respected by little incipient Hermanns as the author of that than as the author of the Prometheus. Unquestionably he would. More youngsters would have voluntarily plied their Lexicons for an explanation of those long Greek words signifying blackberry," and "Robin-red-breast,' than now ply them by compulsion to fathom the meaning of ὑψηλόκρημνος and κελαινόβρωτος. But we actually have a Baron Munchausen written in Greek! Aye, and that too in the purest, and (what is most important of all,) the very easiest, Greek. Why not then kill two birds with one stone? why not inspire a love for, at the same time that you teach the dry technicalities of, the Greek language? Reader, pardon us if we subjoin one or two short extracts from that most amusing of fictions, the "True History." THE MAN IN THE MOON. "About noon, when we had lost sight of the Island, a sudden whirlwind came on, which caught up the ship, and hurled it with great velocity for about three thousand stadia; not however letting it down into the sea again, but keeping it suspended in the air; where • See Anti-jacobin. the wind, falling on the sails, swelled them, and propelled the ship at a marvellous rate. Having traversed the air for seven days and seven nights, we perceived on the eighth a vast land, which bore the appearance of a round and very bright island, illuminated by some strong light; we approached it, and putting to our ship, landed; when we found, upon examining the country, that it was all cultivated and inhabited. In the day-time, we could descry nothing therefrom; but when night came on, we perceived numerous other islands close at hand, some larger, some less, all of them resembling fire in colour. Below us there appeared another earth, with cities and rivers in it, and seas, mountains, and woods. This we conjectured to be our own inhabited world. We now resolved to proceed further; but were met and taken by what are called there the Horse-vultures. These animals are men riding on prodigious vultures, which they use as horses. The vultures there are of an enormous size, and for the most part have three heads. Of their size a person may form some idea, when he is informed, that each of their wings is considerably longer and thicker than the main-sail of the largest ships! The business of these Horse-vultures is to fly round the land, and bring to the king any stranger who may be found. They accordingly arrested and brought us before the king. When his majesty had seen us, forming his conjecture from our dress, he said, 'You are Greeks, my friends?' When we assented; 'How then,' said he, have you contrived to come hither, having traversed so much air?' We informed him of the matter. His majesty then told us the whole of his own story; how that he was himself a man once, Endymion by name; and that sleeping by chance on our earth, he was carried up to the moon, and on his arrival became king of the conntry; for he informed us that this territory of his was the moon that shone to us below! He bade us take courage, and fear no danger; for that he would furnish us with everything we wanted. And if,' said he, 'I succeed in the war which I am now carrying on against the inhabitants of the sun, you shall live with me in the greatest prosperity.' We asked him who his enemies might be, and the origin of the dispute. Phaethon,' replied he, the king of the inhabitants of the sun, (for the sun is inhabited as well as the moon,) has been making war with us this long time. It commenced from the following cause. I had collected the poorest men in my dominions, and wished them to emigrate in a colony to the Morning Star, which was desert and uninhabited. Phaethon, it seems, was envious, and opposed the colonization, meeting us midway with his Horse-ants. We were then not a match for him; and being defeated, were compelled to retreat. It is now my wish to carry on the war to a termination, and to proclaim the colony a second time. If you are willing, be partners with me in this expedition, and I will furnish you with Vultures from the royal store, one apiece, together with all necessary arms and accoutrements. We shall make our attack to morrow.' 'So be it,' said I, 'since your majesty thinks fit.' "We stayed with him for that day as guests, and in the morning prepared for battle, for we had received information from the scouts of the enemies' approach. Our army consisted of a hundred thousand, |