"True," said the cautious monarch with a smile, "From malt, malt, malt-I meant malt all the while." "Yes," with the sweetest bow, rejoined the brewer, "An't please your majesty, you did, I'm sure." Now did the king admire the bell so fine, And now before their sovereign's curious eye- Exclaimed: "O heavens! and can my swine Be deemed by majesty so fine? XENOPHON'S ADDRESS TO THE ARMY AFTER THE BETRAYED GRECIAN [GEORGE GROTE, the most eminent historian of Greece whom this century has produced, born in Kent, 1794, of German ancestry, died in London, 1871. Mr. Grote was a banker and member of parliament, and from 1823 to the close of his life, an enthusiastic student of Greek history, literature, philosophy and art. A pronounced Liberal in politics, his great history of Greece, (12 vols. 1846-56,) does justice to democratic principles, and throws a flood of light upon the once obscure annals of that marvellous country. Grote also published "Plato and the other companions of Socrates, Aristotle, (1872,) and Minor Works, (posthumous,) 1873."] While their camp thus remained unmolested, every man within it was a prey to the most agonizing apprehensions. Ruin appeared impending and inevitable, though no one could tell in what precise form it The Greeks were in the Heavens! can my pigs compare, sire, with pigs royal?" would come. On which the brewer bowed, and said: "Good God!" Who, bridling in her chin divine, Crossed her fair hands, a dear old maid, For such high honour done her father's swine. Now did his majesty, so gracious, say "D'ye hunt?-hae, hunt? No-no, you are too old; I'll prick you every year, man, I declare; "Whitbread d' ye keep a coach, or job one, pray? Now Whitbread inward said: "May I be cursed Then searched his brains with ruminating eye; DR. JOHN WOLCOT. midst of a hostile country, ten thousand stadia from home, surrounded by enemies, blocked up by impassable mountains and rivers, without guides, without provisions, without cavalry to aid their retreat, without generals to give orders. A stupor of sorrow and conscious helplessness seized upon all; few came to the evening muster; few lighted fires to cook their suppers; every man lay down to rest where he was; yet no man could sleep, for fear, anguish, and yearning after relatives whom he was never again to behold. Amidst the many causes of despondency which weighed down this forlorn army, there was none more serious than the fact that not a single man among them had now either authority to command, or obligation to take the initiative. Nor was any ambitious candidate likely to volunteer his pretensions, at a moment when the post promised nothing but the maximum of difficulty as well as of hazard. A new, self-kindled light, and self-originated stimulus, was required to vivify the embers of suspended hope and action in a mass paralyzed for the moment, but every way capable of effort; and the inspiration now fell, happily for the army, upon one in whom a full measure of soldierly strength and courage was combined with the education of an Athenian, a democrat, and a philosopher. Xenophon had equipped himself in his finest military costume at this his first official appearance before the army, when the scales seemed to tremble between life and death. | them without wetting the knee. Or, indeed, Taking up the protest of Kleanor against the Greeks might renounce the idea of rethe treachery of the Persians, he insisted treat, and establish themselves permanently that any attempt to enter into convention in the king's own country, defying all his or trust with such liars would be utter ruin; force, like the Mysians and Pisidians. “If,” but that, if energetic resolution were taken said Xenophon," we plant ourselves here to deal with them only at the point of the at our ease in a rich country, with these sword, and punish their misdeeds, there was tall, stately, and beautiful Median and Pergood hope of the favour of the gods and of sian women for our companions, we shall ultimate preservation. As he pronounced be only too ready, like the Lotophagi, to this last word, one of the soldiers near him forget our way home. We ought first to go happened to sneeze; immediately the whole back to Greece, and tell our countrymen army around shouted with one accord the that if they remain poor, it is their own accustomed invocation to Zeus the Preser- fault, when there are rich settlements in this ver; and Xenophon, taking up the accident, country awaiting all who choose to come, continued: "Since, gentlemen, this omen and who have courage to seize them. Let from Zeus the Preserver has appeared at the us burn our baggage-wagons and tents, and instant when we were talking about preser- carry with us nothing but what is of the vation, let us here vow to offer the preserv- strictest necessity. Above all things, let us ing sacrifice to that god, and at the same maintain order, discipline, and obedience time to sacrifice to the remaining gods as to the commanders, upon which our entire well as we can, in the first friendly country hope of safety depends. Let every man which we may reach. Let every man who promise to lend his hand to the commanders agrees with me hold up his hand." All in punishing any disobedient individuals held up their hands: all then joined in the and let us thus shew the enemy that we vow, and shouted the pæan. have ten thousand persons like Klearchus, instead of that one whom they so perfidiously seized. Now is the time for action. If any man, however obscure, has anything better to suggest, let him come forward and state it; for we have all but one objectthe common safety." ; This accident, so dexterously turned to profit by the rhetorical skill of Xenophon, was eminently beneficial in raising the army out of the depression which weighed them down, and in disposing them to listen to his animated appeal. Repeating his as surance that the gods were on their side, It appears that no one else desired to say and hostile to their perjured enemy, he re- a word, and that the speech of Xenophon called to their memory the great invasions gave unqualified satisfaction; for when of Greece by Darius and Xerxes-how the Cheirisophus put the question, that the meetvast hosts of Persia had been disgracefully ing should sanction his recommendations, repelled. The army had shewn themselves and finally elect the new generals proposed on the field of Kunaxa worthy of such fore--every man held up his hand. Xenophon fathers; and they would, for the future, be then moved that the army should break up yet bolder, knowing by that battle of what immediately, and march to some well-stored stuff the Persians were made. As for Ari- villages, rather more than two miles disæus and his troops, alike traitors and cow- tant; that the march should be in a hollow ards, their desertion was rather a gain oblong, with the baggage in the centre; than a loss. The enemy were superior that Cheirisophus, as a Lacedæmonian, in horsemen but men on horseback should lead the van; while Kleanor and were, after all, only men, half occu- the other senior officers would command on pied in the fear of losing their seats, each flank; and himself with Timasion, as incapable of prevailing against infantry firm the two youngest of the generals, would on the ground, and only better able to lead the rear-guard. run away. Now that the satrap refused to furnish them with provisions to buy, they on their side were released from their covenant, and would take provisions without buying. Then as to the rivers; those were indeed difficult to be crossed, in the middle of their course; but the army would march up to their sources, and could then pass CHARACTER OF DION. Apart from wealth and high position, the personal character of Dion was in itself marked and prominent. He was of an energetic temper, great bravery, and very considerable mental capacities. Though his nature was haughty and disdainful towards individuals, yet as to political communion, his ambition was by no means purely self-seeking and egotistic, like that of the elder Dionysius. Animated with vehement love of power, he was at the same time penetrated with that sense of regulated polity and submission of individual will to fixed laws, which floated in the atmosphere of Grecian talk and literature, and stood so high in Grecian morality. He was, moreover, capable of acting with enthusiasm, and braving every hazard in prosecution of his own convictions. Born about the year 408 B. C., Dion was twenty years of age in 387 B. C., when the elder Dionysius, having dismantled Rhegium and subdued Kroton, attained the maximum of his dominion, as master of the Sicilian and Italian Greeks. Standing high in the favour of his brother-in-law Dionysius, Dion doubtless took part in the wars whereby this large dominion had been acquired; as well as in the life of indulgence and luxury which prevailed generally among wealthy Greeks in Sicily and Italy, and which to the Athenian Plato appeared alike surprising and repulsive. That great philosopher visited Italy and Sicily about 387 B. C. He was in acquaintance and fellowship with the school of philosophers called Pythagoreans; the remnant of the Pythagorean brotherhood, who had once exercised so powerful a political influence over the cities of those regions, and who still enjoyed considerable reputation, even after complete political downfall, through individual ability and rank of the members, combined with habits of recluse study, mysticism, and attachment among themselves. With these Pythagoreans Dion also, a young man of open mind and ardent aspirations, was naturally thrown into communication by the proceedings of the elder Dionysius in Italy. Through them he came into intercourse with Plato, whose conversation made an epoch in his life. The mystic turn of imagination, the sententious brevity, and the mathematical researches of the Pythagoreans, produced doubtless an imposing effect upon Dion; just as Lysis, a member of that brotherhood, had acquired the attachment and influenced the sentiments of Epaminondas at Thebes. But Plato's power of working upon the minds of young men was far more impressive and irresistible. He possessed a large range of practical experience, a mastery of political and social topics, and a charm of eloquence, to which the Pythagoreans were strangers. The stirring effects of the Socratic talk, as well as of the democratical atmosphere in which Plato had been brought up, had developed all the communicative aptitude of his mind; and great as that aptitude appears in his remaining dialogues, there is ground for believing that it was far greater in his conversation. Brought up as Dion had been at the court of Dionysiusaccustomed to see around him only slavish deference and luxurious enjoyment-unused to open speech or large philosophical discussion-he found in Plato a new man exhibited, and a new world opened before him. As the stimulus from the teacher was here put forth with consummate efficacy, so the predisposition of the learner enabled it to take full effect. Dion became an altered man both in public sentiment and in individual behaviour. He recollected that, twenty years before, his country, Syracuse, had been as free as Athens. He learned to abhor the iniquity of the despotism by which her liberty had been overthrown, and by which subsequently the liberties of so many other Greeks in Italy and Sicily had been trodden down also. He was made to remark that Sicily had been half barbarized through the foreign mercenaries imported as the despot's instruments. He conceived the sublime idea or dream of rectifying all this accumulation of wrong and suffering. It was his first wish to cleanse Syracuse from the blot of slavery, and to clothe her anew in the brightness and dignity of freedom, yet not with the view of restoring the popular government as it had stood prior to the usurpation, but of establishing an improved constitutional polity, originated by himself, with laws which not only secure individual rights, but also educate and moralize the citizens. The function which he imagined to himself, and which the conversation of Plato suggested, was not that of a despot like Dionysius, but that of a despotic legislator Lycurgus, tak ing advantage of a momentary omnipotence, conferred upon him by grateful citizens in a state of public confusion, to originate a good system, which, when once put in motion, would keep itself alive by fashioning the minds of the citizens to its own intrinsie excellence. GEORGE GROTE THE VOYAGE. [HEINRICH HEINE, a German poet and critic, of very trenchant though unequal powers, born at Düsseldorf in 1797, died at Paris in 1856. Heine's Werke have been collected in seven volumes, Philadelphia, 1857. His best productions are the "Reisebilde or Pictures of Travel," and his songs. His style is often brilliant and witty, with a persistent undercurrent of melancholy, and traces of suffering and disappointment.] As at times the moonbeam pierces Through the thickest cloudy rack, So to me, through days so dreary, One bright image struggles back. Seated all on deck, we floated Down the Rhine's majestic stream; On its borders, summer-laden, Slept the peaceful evening gleam. Brooding, at the feet I laid me Lutes were ringing, youths were singing, Swelled my heart with feelings strange; Bluer grew the heaven above us, Wider grew the spirit's range. Fairy-like beside us flitted Rock and ruin, wood and plain; And I gazed on all reflected In my loved one's eyes again. THE LORE-LEI. I know not whence it rises, This thought so full of woe; But a tale of times departed Haunts me, and will not go. The air is cool, and it darkens, And calmly flows the Rhine, The mountain-peaks are sparkling In the sunny evening-shine. And yonder sits a maiden, The fairest of the fair; With gold is her garment glittering, As she combs her golden hair: With a golden comb she combs it; The boatman feels his bosom With a nameless longing move: He sees not the gulfs before him, His gaze is fixed above; Till over boat and boatman The Rhine's deep waters run: And this, with her magic singing, The Lore-lei has done! HEINRICH HEINR THE EMIGRANTS. [FERDINAND FREILIGRATH, a German poet and republican, born at Detmold, 1810, died in 1876. His early poems, full of the spirit of liberty, brought him prosecution, and a long exile, spent in London. Returning in 1848, he shared in the revolution which ran over Europe in that year. He was imprisoned, tried, and though acquitted, forced to leave his native country. Besides his own poems, many of which have a fine Oriental coloring, and exhibit rich imagination, he has made fine translations of Victor Hugo's poems, of Burns, and a selection of the American poets.] I cannot take my eyes away From you, ye busy, bustling band! Your little all to see you lay Each, in the waiting seaman's hand! Ye men, who from your necks set down Of bread from German corn, baked brown And you, with braided queues so neat, Black-Forest maidens, slim and brown How careful on the sloop's green seat You set your pails and pitchers down! Ah! oft have home's cool, shady tanks These pails and pitchers filled for you: On far Missouri's silent banks, Shall these the scenes of home renew. The stone-rimmed fount in village street, That as ye stooped, betrayed your smiles; The hearth and its familliar seat; The mantle and the pictured tiles. Soon, in the far and wooded West, Shall log-house walls therewith be graced; Soon, many a tired, tawny guest Shall sweet refreshment from them taste. From them shall drink the Cherokee, No more from German vintage ye [THOMAS PARNELL, born in Ireland, 1679, a brilliant wit and poet, educated in Dublin, and after a distinguished career in London, determined to revisit Ireland, but died at Chester on his way to Ireland, and was interred there (as the register of Trinity Church states) on the 18th of October, 1718. Parnell was an accomplished scholar and a delightful companion. His Life was written by Goldsmith, who was proud of his distinguished countryman, considering him the last of the great school that had modelled itself upon the ancients. Parnell's works are of a miscellaneous nature-translations, songs, hymns, epistles, etc. His most celebrated piece is "The Hermit," familiar to most readers from their infancy. Pope pronounced it to be "very good;" and its sweetness of diction and picturesque solemnity of style must always please. His " Night-piece on Death," was indirectly preferred by Goldsmith to Gray's celebrated "Elegy ;" but few men of taste or feeling will subscribe to such an opinion. In the " Night-piece," Parnell meditates among the tombs. Tired with poring over the pages of schoolmen and sages, he sallies out at midnight to the churchyard.] How deep yon azure dyes the sky! That steeple guides thy doubtful sight Time was, like thee, they life possessed, The flat smooth stones that bear a name, THE HERMIT. Far in a wild, unknown to public view, Prayer all his business, all his pleasure praise. And skies beneath with answering colours glow; But, if a stone the gentle sea divide, To find if books, or swains, report it right- He quits his cell; the pilgrim-staff he bore, |