The elder brothers, satisfied with the result of their savage scheme, returned home to the island. The youngest, when the day appeared, repeated his thanks to Theodore for the asylum he had afforded him, and departed soon afterwards. The news was spread about, first through the castle, and afterwards all over the island, that Malgherita Spoletina was nowhere to be found. The hypocritical and sanguinary brothers affected to be greatly afflicted at this event, which they had themselves caused, and at which they were infinitely rejoiced.

On the third day after this most unhappy lady's fatal death her body was cast by the sea upon Theodore's rock. The wretched man was walking along the narrow shore, meditating, and endeavouring to guess what fatal accident had deprived him of his tender Malgherita, when her dead body was washed to his feet. The moment his eyes fell upon it he recognised it, and his horror was so great as almost to deprive him of life.

At length, summoning up his courage as well as he was able, he took hold of the inanimate body, and drew it out of the water, and carried it into his hovel. His grief now became uncontrollable; he cast himself upon the corpse, and kissed the pale lips, lamenting and mourning, while the rapid tears fell from his eyes upon her heavenly bosom, as white-and now as coldas the mountain snow. He called upon her in vain, and the echo of his desolate abode repeated his passionate exclamations.

When his grief (by being indulged unchecked) had spent itself, he thought of the necessity of performing the last rites of sepulture to his beloved Malgherita. He took the spade with which he usually laboured in his little garden, and dug a grave near his hovel : then, with many tears, he closed those eyes and that mouth-once his greatest joy and pride, now dimmed and cold in death-and made a garland of roses and violets, which he put upon her head. This being done, he kissed her for the last time, laid her in the grave and covered her with earth.

Published March 1,1827, by James Robins & Co Ivy Lane, London.

CONCETTI.

I SAID, My heart, how is't you still
Speak truth whene'er you speak of sorrow;
But when a song of joy you trill,

You're forced a fair false smile to borrow?"
'Because when you for heart's-ease long,'
It said, 'you steep the heart in lies;
As boys, to hear the linnet's song,
Put out the linnet's eyes!'

I said to Pleasure, Changeful fay,
Who can put hope or trust in

you, Scarce known before you flee away,

Scarce seen before you fade from view?' Praise the Gods, praise them,' Pleasure said, For that, ye foolish mortal elves;

If they had me more constant made,

They would have kept me for themselves.'

I said to Cupid,' Little boy,

You've stol'n my heart, so don't deny it; Give it me back, or I'll employ

Some harsher method to come by it.' 'Alas,' he said, 'I gave it to

A lady, who's a sad deceiver;
I stole it-I'm the thief, 'tis true,
But black-ey'd Myra's the receiver.'

I said to Beauty, Flee, oh! flee

The cup that sweets with poison tips;
Nor let each trifler, like the bee,
Steal honey from those rosy lips.'
Nay, nay,' said Beauty, all that bliss
gave it not, I but repaid it ;

I

The bee that doth the flow'ret kiss,
Deserves the honey, for he made it.'

HENRY NEEle.

154

THE ORIGIN OF THE WORSHIP OF HYMEN.

THE origin of the worship of Hymen is thus related by Lactantius. The story would furnish matter for an excellent pantomime. Hymen was a beautiful youth of Athens, who for the love of a young virgin disguised himself, and assisted at the (Eleusinian) rites: and at this time, he, together with his beloved, and divers other young ladies of that city, was surprised and carried off by pirates; who, supposing him to be what he appeared, lodged him with his mistress. In the dead of the night, when the robbers were all asleep, he rose and cut their throats. Thence making hasty way back to Athens, he bargained with the parents that he would restore to them their daughter, and all her companions, if they would consent to her marriage with him. They did so, and this marriage proving remarkably happy, it became the custom to invoke the name of Hymen at all nuptials.

THE USURIOUS LOVER.

FROM THE FRENCH.

You owe me, Iris, thirty kisses,
Two years have they been over due;
So pay me now those well earn'd blisses,
The principal and interest too.

To the first thirty we must add

Five more for each year, which will mount

To forty. Madam, I'd be glad

If you'd discharge my small account.

So pay me what you owe me, these
Sweet kisses, you dishonest elf;
Else, as the law provides, I'll seize
Your body, and so pay myself.

HENRY NEELE.