for, in the opinion of many tolerable judges, he held a respectable rank among the inditers of madrigals of the period, and was as well qualified to give immortality to his Nancies of the hills or dales, as many a gentle sonnetteer of wit and pleasure about town. He was something of a musician also, and on the present occasion seized upon a sort of lute, and, quitting his victim, prepared the instrument for an accompaniment, speaking all the while that he might lose no time.

"I learned the lute," he said, "from the same man who taught honest Shadwell-plump Tom, as they used to call him-somewhat roughly treated by the glorious John, you rememberMordaunt, you remember—

'Methinks I see the new Arion sail,

The lute still trembling underneath thy nail;
At thy well sharpen'd thumb, from shore to shore,
The trebles squeak for fear, the basses roar.'

Come, I am indifferently in tune now-what was it to be?-ay, I remember-nay, The Lass of Northmaven is the ditty-poor Bet Stimbister! I have called her Mary in the verses. Betsy does. well for an English song; but Mary is more

natural here." So saying, after a short prelude, he sung, with a tolerable voice and some taste, the following verses:

Mary.

"Farewell to Northmaven,
Grey Hillswicke, farewell!
To the calms of thy haven,
The storms on thy fell-
To each breeze that can vary
The mood of thy main,
And to thee, bonny Mary!
We meet not again.

"Farewell the wild ferry,

Which Hacon could brave,
When the peaks of the Skerry
Were white in the wave.
There's a maid may look over
These wild waves in vain,
For the skiff of her lover-

He comes not again.

"The vows thou hast broke,

On the wild currents fling them;

On the quicksand and rock

Let the mermaiden sing them.

New sweetness they'll give her

Bewildering strain;

But there's one who will never

Believe them again.

"O were there an island,

Though ever so wild,

Where woman could smile, and

No man be beguiled—

Too tempting a snare

To poor mortals were given,

And the hope would fix there,

That should anchor on heaven."

"I see you are softened, my young friend,” said Halcro, when he had finished his song; "so are most who hear that same ditty. Words and music both mine own; and, without saying much of the wit of it, there is a sort of—eh-ch-simplicity and truth about it, which gets its way to most folks' heart. Even your father cannot resist it—and he has a heart as impenetrable to poetry and song as Apollo himself could draw an arrow against. But then he has had some ill luck in his time with the woman folks, as is plain from his owing them such a grudge-Ay, ay, there

the charm lies-none of us but has felt the same sore in our day. But come, my dear boy, they are mustering in the hall, men and women bothplagues as they are, we should get on ill without them-but before we go, only mark the last

turn

And the hope would fix there;'

that is, in the supposed island-a place which neither was nor will be

'That should anchor on heaven.'

Now you see, my good young man, there are here none of your heathenish rants, which Rochester, Etheridge, and these wild fellows, used to string together. A parson might sing the song, and his clerk bear the burthen-but there is the confounded bell-we must go now-but never mind-we'll get into a quiet corner at night, and I'll tell you all about it."

CHAPTER XIII.

Full in the midst the polish'd table shines,
And the bright goblets, rich with generous wines;
Now each partakes the feast, the wine prepares,
Portions the food, and each the portion shares ;
Nor till the rage of thirst and hunger ceased,
To the high host approached the sagacious guest.

Odyssey.

THE hospitable profusion of Magnus Troil's board, the number of guests who feasted in the hall, the much greater number of retainers, attendants, humble friends, and domestics of every possible description, who revelled without, with the multitude of the still poorer, and less honoured assistants, who came from every hamlet or township within twenty miles round, to share the bounty of the munificent Udaller, were such as altogether astonished Triptolemus Yellowley, and made him internally doubt whether it would be prudent in him at this time, and amid the full glow