Alas! how little did I then suspect that I had met with a prophet in my path! The animal was now at my back, foaming and fuming. I heard and fancied that I felt his hot breath behind me, just as I reached the margin of the bog. There was no time to hesitate so I made a leap, and lighted on the quaking quagmire, in which I sunk to the knees. Having reported my arrival at head-quarters, and waited upon the Colonel, I was forthwith introduced to my brother officers, with whom I dined at the mess; and the following day I was given over in charge to a drill My enemy having an instinctive feeling that he was sergeant, in order to receive my first lessons in military treading upon tender ground, suddenly came to a halt; education. From that day I date the commencement of but, by scraping the earth with his feet, and eyeing me my troubles. My progress, I must say, was slow. I with orbs of flame, gave manifest symptoms of unabated went through my facings with reluctance, and but indif- fury, and showed no disposition, by retiring, to release ferently. The manual and platoon exercises seemed al- me from "durance vile." together too low and mechanical for a gentleman-and the goosestep I considered a downright insult to human nature. "Little things might be great to little men;" but a genius like mine, I conceived, was meant to command armies. The sergeant thought differently; and declared that he had more trouble with me than with the whole awkward squad together. But this I considered a compliment, having heard that your great generals had been, for the most part, but indifferent subalterns. At length, I was attached to a company, and took my post upon parade, where I was completely bewildered dressing my company from the wrong flank—and at every movement committing a blunder. "Rear rank, take open order," exclaimed the Colonel. "What am I to do now, Sergeant?" exclaimed I. "Step out to the front, sir." Col." What are you about there, Mr Gay?—you are out of the line altogether-dress by the right." "Rear rank, take close order-march."- "What am I to do now, Sergeant?" "Face to the right, sir, and step to the rear." (Laughter among the men.)—“ Some of the men are laughing, Sergeant. Mark them down for drill; and, in the meantime, tell me who they are."- "The whole regiment, sir, including the Colonel." In this way did I struggle through the difficulties of my profession, until the regiment received orders to hold itself in readiness for foreign service, when I obtained a month's leave of absence, to pay a farewell visit to my friends. Great was the attention which I received upon arriving at my native village. I was adored by the women, and envied and hated by the men. My red coat was too much for them. However, I was not satisfied with being the first man in the village, but resolved to extend my conquests to the neighbouring towns-at one of which, about six miles distant, I had promised to open a ball with the then reigning belle of the place to which, having forwarded a pair of snow-white inexpressibles, and some other ball-room requisites, (reserving my red coat to walk in,) I proceeded towards the scene of elegant gaiety in the evening. I had travelled about half the distance, when, at a solitary turn of the road, which winded along the foot of a hill, I suddenly popped upon a bull, who, far from being infected with the general partiality for scarlet, no sooner beheld the colour of my coat, than, setting up a wild roar, he instantly gave chase, and came after me at full gallop. I had fancied myself a hero. I thought I could march up unshrinking to the cannon's mouth; but, like many other gentlemen of the sword, though proof against a charge of cavalry, I could not stand a charge of horning; so, leaving the main road, I dashed along the foot of the hill towards a swamp, with the recollection and geography of which my good genius at that moment supplied me. Meantime, the bull came roaring after, and was rapidly gaining ground, while I, (oh, humbling thought to the pride of valour!) the love of the ladies, and the envy of the men, was running in mortal fear, like a hare before the hounds. The bog was now close before me, and the bull close behind my bane and antidote and yet the swamp might be soft enough to drown me-(what a death for a soldier !)—so, betwixt the bog and the bull's horns, I felt myself betwixt the horns of a dilemma. Alas! what we suffer for our country! (thought I, as I stood cold and wet, without prospect of release ;)—my fair partner will now be in the ball-room-all smiles and blushes, and gentle tremors-waiting for my arrival, and wondering at my delay. Anon, her young heart will palpitate with fears of illness, or some fatal accident; but, could she see her Lothario, in full uniform, stuck kneedeep in a bog, with a bull standing sentry over him, it were death to romance, and could call forth no tears but those of laughter. At length I was observed by some pedestrians, passing along the road, who came to my assistance, and succeeded in driving away the bull, and relieving me from my ludicrous misery; but the story got abroad in the neighbourhood, and, embellished with numerous facetious additions, became the subject of village mirth ;-my rivals gloated on it, and the old maids, whom I had incautiously neglected, caught the echo, and carried the tale from house to house. I was saved, however, from the agony of encountering the public gaze and mock sympathy, by being suddenly recalled to the regiment, then about to proceed on foreign service from Dublin, where I arrived a few days previous to embarkation. Among the many ways in which I had paid for the pleasure of wearing a red coat, I had, somehow or other, neglected the trifling one of paying my tailor; and one day, while sporting my figure, and escorting a fashionable beauty along Dame Street, just at the most interesting moment of a most tender and interesting conversation, I received a somewhat unceremonious slap on the shoulder, and turning round, in no very gentle mood at the impertinent interruption, was thus accosted by the vulgar intruder:-" By your lave, sir, and begging your pardon, I arrest you at the suit of Mr Tick, the tailor, for a regimental coat,-the same, I suppose, at present on your back.” To have knocked the fellow down would, doubtless, have been my first impulse; but of all power of action and thought I was, for the moment, utterly deprived by the shock of such a dreadful exposure. A flash of fire shot through my brain, the sight forsook my eyes, and the last sound of which I was conscious, after the words of the accursed dun, was a loud burst of laughter, amidst which my fair friend vanished like a witch in a clap of thunder. Upon recovering my senses, I made the tipstaff call a coach, in which we proceeded to the barracks, where my debt was discharged, pro tempore, by the paymaster, and the following day saw me fairly afloat upon the wide ocean. Once more behold me restored to my country, after being baptized with fire, of which I bore a certificate in the shape of a bad wound. Upon arriving at my native village, I received a friendly visit from the doctor, who made many kind enquiries after my health, and expressed a curiosity to look at my wound, which had only just healed. He gazed upon it in mysterious silence, and upon being asked what he thought of it, replied, that a gun-shot wound was a very complex thing, combining in itself the nature of three different mischiefs, viz. a cut, a tear, and a bruise; and before he could give any opinion, it would be necessary to lay it open from the bottom-a piece of kindness on his part which I begged leave to de cline. He put in an account, however, charging an ex- Far out the doctor's large eyes lolling If bleeding good for health thou deemest, Such, reader, are a few of the miseries arising from my red coat. Its brightness has now faded like the hopes to which it gave rise, and is, indeed, so very dark, that I fancy it is going into mourning for all the ills of which it has been the cause. THE ALEHOUSE PARTY. The next is Tam Watt, who is grieve to the Laird,― But Grierson the cobbler's a happity leg, And nae man that hobbles need come here to woo. And there's Murdoch the gauger, wha rides a blind horse, I wonder if then he'll be coming to woo. "It's your turn now to sing, Tammy," said Robin, "although I dinna ken that ye are very gude at it." "Me sing!" cried Tammy," I canna even sing a psalm, far less a sang; but if ye like, I'll tell you a story." "Come awa then, a story is next best; but haud a' your tongues there, you chiels,” cried Robin, giving the wink to his cronies, 66 we a' ken Tammy is unco gude at telling a story, mair especially if it be about himsell." "Aweel," said Tammy, clearing his throat, "I'll tell you what happened to me when I was ance in Embro'.I fancy ye a' ken the Calton hill?" "Whatna daftlike question is that, when ye ken very "Weel then," began Tammy, "I was coming ower A Chapter from an unpublished Novel, by the Authors of weel we hae a' been in Embro' as weel as yoursell?" the 66 Odd Volume," "Tales and Legends," &c. "The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter: And aye the ale was growing better." BURNS. the hill-" "What hill ?" asked Jamie Wilson. hill ?" "Corstorphine "Corstorphine fiddlestick!" exclaimed Tammy; "did ye no hear me say the Calton hill at the first, which, ye ken, is thought there the principal hill ?" "What's that ye're saying about Principal Hill?” On the evening of that day which saw Mrs Wallace enter Park a bride, Robin Kinniburgh and a number of his cronies met at the village alehouse to celebrate the happy event. Every chair, stool, and bench, being occupied, Robin and his chum, Tammy Tacket, took posses-asked Robin; " I kent him weel ance in a day." sion of the top of the meal girnel; and, as they were elevated somewhat above the company, they appeared like two rival provosts, looking down on their surrounding bailies. "It's a gude thing," said Tammy," that the wives and weans are keepit out the night; folk get enough o' them at hame." "I wonder," said Jamie Wilson, "what's become o' Andrew Gilmour." "Hae ye no heard," said Robin," that his wife died yesterday?" "Is she dead?" exclaimed Tammy Tacket: "faith," continued he, giving Robin a jog with his elbow," I think a man might hae waur furniture in his house than a dead wife." "That's a truth,” replied Jamie Wilson, " as mony an honest man kens to his cost.-But send round the pint stoup, and let us hae a health to the laird and the leddy, and mony happy years to them and theirs." "that's aye what When the applause attending this toast had subsided, Robin was universally called on for a song. "I hae the host," answered Robin; the leddies say when they are asked to sing." "Deil a host is about you," cried Wattie Shuttle; come awa' wi' a sang without mair ado." "Weel," replied Robin, "what maun be, maun be; so I'll gie ye a sang, that was made by a laddie that lived east-awa; he was aye daundering, poor chiel, amang the broomie knowes, and mony's the time I hae seen him lying at the side o' the wimpling burn, writing on ony bit paper he could get haud o'. After he was dead, this bit sang was found in his pocket, and his puir mother gied it to me, as a kind o' keepsake; and now I'll let you hear it, I sing it to the tune o' I hae laid a herrin' in saut.'" SONG. It's I'm a sweet lassie, without e'er a fau't; For his first wife was puishioned, if what they say's true. "Now, Tammy," cried Willie Walkinshaw, "can ye no gang on wi' your story, without a' this balwavering and nonsense about coming ower ane o' our Professors; my faith, it's no an easy matter to come ower some o' them." 66 Very well," said Tammy, a little angrily, "I'll say nae mair about it, but just drap the hill." "Whare, whare?" cried several voices at once. "I'm thinking," said Robin, drily, "some o' the Embro' folk would be muckle obliged to ye if ye would drap it in the Nor' Loch." "Ye're a set o' gomerils!" exclaimed Tammy, in great wrath," I meant naething o' the sort; but only that I would gie ower speaking about it." "So we're no to hae the story after a'," said Matthew Henderson. "Yes," said Tammy, "I'm quite agreeable to tell't, if ye will only sit still and haud your tongues.-Aweel, I was coming ower the hill ae night—” "Odsake, Tammy," cried Robin, "will ye ne'er get ower that hill? ye hae tell't us that ten times already; gang on, man, wi' the story." "Then, to mak a lang story short, as I was coming ower the hill ae night about ten o'clock, I fell in—” "Fell in!" cried Matthew Henderson, "where? was't a hole, or a well?" "I fell in," replied Tammy, " wi' a man"Fell in wi' a man!" said Willie Walkinshaw; "weel, as there were twa o' ye, ye could help ane anither out.” "Na, na," roared Tammy, "I dinna mean that at a'; I just cam up wi' him—” "I doubt, Tammy," cried Robin, giving a sly wink to his cronies, "if ye gaed up the Calton hill wi' a man at ten o'clock at night, I'm thinking ye'll hae been boozing some gate or ither wi' him afore that." "Me boozing?" cried Tammy; "I ne'er saw the man's face afore or since; unless it was in the police office the next day." "Now, Tammy Tacket," said Robin, gravely, "just tak' a frien's advice, and gie ower sic splores; they're no creditable to a decent married man like you; and dinn be bleezing and bragging about being in the police office; for it stands to reason ye wouldna be there for ony gude." "Deil tak' me," cried Tammy, jumping up on the meal girnel, and brandishing the pint stoup, " if I dinna fling this at the head o' the first man wha says a word afore I be done wi' my story :-And as I said before, I fell in-" Poor Tammy was not at all prepared for his words being so soon verified, for, in his eagerness to enforce attention, he stamped violently with his hobnailed shoe on the girnel, which giving way with a loud crash, Tammy suddenly disappeared from the view of the astonished party. Robin, who had barely time to save himself from the falling ruins, was still laughing with all his might, when Mrs Scoreup burst in upon them, saying, “ What the sorrow is a' this stramash about?"-but seeing a pale and ghastly figure rearing itself from the very heart of her meal girnel, she ejaculated, "Gude preserve us!" and, retreating a few steps, seized the broth ladle, and prepared to stand on the defensive. 66 At this moment Grizzy Tacket made her appearance at the open door, saying, "Is blethering Tam here?" "Help me out, Robin, man,” cried Tammy. "Help ye out!" said Grizzy; "what the sorrow took ye in there, ye drucken ne'er-do-weel ?" "Dinna abuse your gudeman, wife," said Jamie Wil son. "Gudeman!" retorted Grizzy; "troth, there's few o' ye deserve the name; and as for that idle loon, I ken he'll no work a stroke the morn, though wife and weans should want baith milk and meal." "Odsake, wife," cried Robin, "if ye shake Tammy weel, he'll keep ye a' in parritch for a week." "She'll shake him," cried the angry Mrs Scoreup; "cocks are free o' horses' corn; I'll shake him," making, as she spoke, towards the unfortunate half-choked Tam my. "Will ye faith?" screamed Grizzy, putting her arms akimbo; "will ye offer to lay a hand on my gudeman, and me standing here? Come out this minute, ye Jonadub, and come hame to your ain house." "No ae fit shall he steer frae this," cried Mrs Scoreup, slapping to the door, "till I see wha is to pay me for the spoiling o' my gude new girnel, forby the meal that's wasted." "New girnel!" exclaimed Grizzy, with a provoking sneer, "it's about as auld as yoursell, and as little worth." "Ye ill-tongued randy!" cried Mrs Scoreup, giving the ladle a most portentous flourish. "Whisht, whisht, gudewife," said Robin, " say nae mair about it, we'll mak it up amang us; and now, Grizzy, tak Tammy awa hame." "It's no right in you, Robin," said Grizzy, "to be filling Tammy fou, and keeping decent folks out o' their beds till this time o' night." "It's a' Tammy's faut," replied Robin; "for ye ken as well as me, that when ance he begins to tell a story, there's nae such thing as stopping him; he has been blethering about the Calton hill at nae allowance." A MODERN EPICUREAN'S HINTS FOR AN ADDITIONAL RELISH. By Derwent Conway, Author of " Solitary_Walks through many Lands," "Personal Narrative of a Journey through Norway, Sweden, and Denmark," &c. Ir surprises me that I have found courage to commit to paper my " Hints" upon this subject, because I have lived long enough in the world to have discovered how illnatured a world it is, and how difficult a matter it will be to get through this article, and speak my mind as I go along, and, at the same time, avoid the charge of sensuality. I have considerable hopes, however, that my real motive and character will be discovered by some grave, reflecting old gentleman, who is anxious to enjoy life as much as possible, and who, sitting perhaps with his pint of pale sherry before him, may silence any such impertinence as meets his ear, in some such words as the following :-" Excuse me, gentlemen, but I really think you have mistaken the character of the author of the Hints, and his motive in making them public; he seems to me to be more of a philanthropist, than either an epicure or a sensualist ;" and the old gentleman would speak nothing but the truth. I have communicated my Hints to the world, from a conviction that one-half of the world bid adieu to it, without having once partaken of any enjoyment with the highest relish of which it is susceptible. It is true, indeed, that the varieties which exist in the mental and corporeal capabilities of mankind, fix precisely as many limits to the powers of enjoyment; but my desire is, that every man should have the power of filling his own measure to the brim ;-if this be not a philanthropic desire, then God help the abolitionists; they stint their philanthropy to the "poor Blacks," including the "climbing boys," but mine embraces in its design the whole human race, it is neither limited to sect nor colour; Jew, Christian, and Infidel, Whites and Blacks, are alike capable of enjoyment, and therefore may equally profit by my " hints for an additional relish." This, I think, forms a very pretty introduction to my subject, upon which the good-natured reader is now, I daresay, disposed to enter, with a prepossession in favour of me and my philanthropy: as for the censorious, I leave them to the chastisement of the old gentleman, who has ordered another pint of sherry, and has taken up the cudgels for me very warmly. I incline to refer the contempt which is sometimes expressed for the pleasures of the table to one of three things ;-a morbid state of the moral judgment, which looks upon the enjoyments of this life, and the powers which can make them our own, only as so many temptations to be resisted, and so many enemies to be vanquished; or, an imperfect organization of certain of the senses, which hinders the individual from perceiving the enjoyments which he affects to perceive, and yet to despise; or, lastly, hypocrisy, which parades an indifference that is not felt, and probably not acted upon. I think I am quite warranted in concluding, that no man, in the full possession of his reason, with the perfect use of his senses, and with sincerity in his character, will either despise, or affect to despise, the pleasures of the table. The last words seemed to strike on Tammy's ear; who hiccuped out," As I cam ower the Calton hill—” "Will naebody stap a peat in that man's hause!" exI have now reached a most important part of my subclaimed Matthew Henderson; "for ony sake, honest wo-ject. I shall suppose the company blessed with a reasonman, tak him awa, or we'll be keepit on the Calton hill the whole night." "Tak haud o' me, Tammy," said Robin; "I'll gang hame wi' ye." "I can gang mysell," said Tammy, giving Robin a shove, and staggering towards the door. "Gang yoursell!" cried Grizzy, as she followed her helpmate; "ye dinna look very like it :" and thus the party broke up ; And each went aff their separate way, ably good appetite, for I have no concern with dyspeptics, and that no one is either too warm or too cold; dinner is served,—and the question I put is, are you all prepared to enjoy it? Ay, and there are few questions more important. If a man dies at seventy, he has lived forty years, during which the question might be put to him every day,-(for it is absurd to speak to a man much under thirty about stuffing for a roast pig, or sauce for a pheasant) forty years, in the course of which he has eaten fourteen thousand six hundred dinners. Prince of gods and men, what happiness ought to be ours! Fourteen thousand six hundred opportunities of enjoying one self!! I ask of every man who has finished his toilette, and who is descending to the dining-room, if he be prepared to enjoy the good things that await him? I recollect to have once heard a greenhorn say, "If there be a good dinner, there can be little question about the enjoyment of it ;" but nothing can be more erroneous, as applied to mankind in general; though to such men as Dr Johnson, a good dinner, and the enjoyment of it, were indeed inseparable, because he knew the secret of making them so. There are, in truth, so many things indispensable to the highest enjoyment of a good dinner, that, for greater clearness, I shall throw my Hints into sections. § 1. AN UNOCCUPIED MIND.-To throw off our cares with our surtout, is not indeed in the power of every one; but, with very few exceptions, it is possible for every one so to arrange the day, that when the dinner-hour arrives, nothing that presses upon the mind shall be left undone. The most trifling matter will mar the enjoyment of the most delicious feast; an unanswered letter,-a dun, unattended to, the prospect of an unpleasant duty, things, ten times more insignificant than these, will neutralise the flavour of the finest turbot that ever was slid into the fish-kettle. The citizen drives to his retreat at Clapham, and recollects, at the moment he cuts into the sirloin, that he has neglected to provide for a bill for £1000; the lounger saunters into the Claremont, and remembers, just as he immerses his spoon in his turtle soup, that he has forgotten to leave a card for my Lord This or That; and thus the appetite of the one and the other is equally ruined; A card forgotten, or a bill to pay, But not only must we approach the dinner table with an unoccupied mind, we must give to it, as to any other piece of important business, that which I shall insist upon in § 2. UNDIVIDED ATTENTION.-Every body has read Boswell's Life of Johnson, and therefore every body remembers that profound remark made by the great moralist, that, “in order to enjoy a good dinner, we must talk about it all the while." It is certain, at all events, that conversation must not be too excursive; for be it a work of business, or a work of pleasure, in which we are engaged, it will be best done, and most enjoyed, if the mind be wholly given up to it. There is not one reader who is not conscious of this truth; not one upon whom the pleasures of the eye, the ear, or the palate, have not, upon some occasions, been lost, through the pre-occupancy, or abstraction, of the mind;-and I have no doubt that Clarke and Leibnitz might have discussed a brace of woodcocks, without being conscious of their good fortune, if they had, at the same time, discussed the question of liberty and necessity. My philanthropy is not confined to the living; it grieves me to think, that want of attention to so simple a precept as that which I have laid down in this section, should, for ages, have stinted the enjoyment of the most frequent of all the pleasures which lie on the highway of life. Dr Johnson properly makes use of the word "talk," in contradistinction to the word conversation; for, if undivided attention be given to the employment of the table, it is impossible that there should be any such thing as conversation. There must be nothing argumentative,-nothing that involves much difference in opinion,-nothing that rouses the attention, or awakens interest,-for it is impossible to "lend your ear," without also admitting a claim upon the sensibility of the palate; table-talk, if not rigidly confined within the horizon of the table, must, at all events, make but short excursions beyond it. The philosophy of this section may be thus summed up: There is no such thing as a corporeal pleasure, independent of mind; the external organs of sense are but media of communication; the mind it is that takes cognizance of the qualities of objects; and it is undeniable, that a state of mental abstraction might exist, in which no object brought in contact with the external organs of sense would create any perception of its quality; and if this be true, it must necessarily follow, that the more intently the mind is fixed upon any animal enjoyment, the keener will that enjoyment be. § 3. REGULATION OF THE APPETITE.-The man who is in too great haste to be rich, sometimes misses his object; the gambler who throws down all his gold on the first stake, runs a risk of coming away penniless; the jockey who makes too much speed at the beginning of the race, has little chance of winning the plate; and in every pleasure and every pursuit in which mankind is engaged, precipitancy is the neutraliser of enjoyment, and the enemy of success. Keep this truth especially in mind, when you take your seat at a feast. He who is desirous of extracting the essence from it, will be as wary as an old trout that nibbles at the bait-the young things only gulp hook and all; he will dally with his delights, and never swallow a second mouthful until judgment has pronounced her verdict upon the savour of the first. Sip and enjoy: even the most arrant bungler would not gulp a glass of Maraschino, as he would a basin of camomile tea. The non-gulping principle may be carried with advantage into all our pleasures. A man who is ignorant of it, may gulp a new novel without tasting it; it is possible to be so great a gulper in sight-seeing, as to leave nothing behind but headach; and the man who should perform a journey on a race horse-and who might well be classed among gulpers-could not tell, when he came to the end of it, whether the road was skirted by fruit or forest trees. For the present I shall leave the reader to the important work of digestion, concluding with this single observation, that nothing can be sillier than the common and specious morsel of morality, so dogmatically levelled against the pleasures of the table, that they are short-lived, and perish in the using. I should be glad to know what pleasure does not. We have, indeed, agreeable reminiscences of a fine poem which we have read,—of delightful scenery which we have passed through,-or of sweet music to which we have listened; but the pleasure of these reminiscences is faint, in comparison with present enjoyment. My recollections of Winandermere and its surrounding beauties are, indeed, of the most agreeable kind; but can they be compared with the rapturous feelings with which I have watched, from the bosom of that lovely lake, day die upon the rosy mirror, and the hills fold themselves in their dusky mantle? And so is it with all pleasures, be they pleasures of a moment, a day, or a lifetime-they perish in the using. [The following spirited and original lines are the production of a popular living poet, whose name we regret we are not at liberty to mention.-Ed. Lit. Jour.] WHEN Spring with her girdle of roses comes forth, By Dugald Moore, Author of "The African, a Tale; How man's heart bounds with gladness his gay bosom and other Poems." AND have I thus outlived the brave Who wreath'd this wrinkled brow?— And has earth nothing but a grave To shield her conqueror now? Ah, glory! thou'rt a fading leaf,Thy fragrance false-thy blossoms briefAnd those who to thee bow Worship a falling star-whose path Is lost in darkness and in death. Yet I have twined the meed of fame Our battle's bloody mound, When thy proud eagle on the wing Fell to the earth, a nerveless thing! Yes, mid thy vast and fair domains, While this old heart, and these shrunk veins, Have one scant drop to spill; Even in the glory of thy fame Thou shrinkest still at Afric's name,— 'Tis not a joyous thrill; Thou hast not yet forgotten quite Though chased from shore to shore, I yet through, At her charms, and the song of her merry cuckoo; Cuckoo, and cuckoo, and cuckoo! We have gazed on bright forms, such as angels above Might leave heaven, and come down on this dull earth to love; But no face is like Nature's to man's longing view, When she laughs out in Spring with her joyous cuckoo ; Cuckoo, and cuckoo, and cuckoo ! We have felt-who has not?-as we clasped the fair hand, How the pulse bounds to bliss at the dear one's command; But are those warm pulsations more thrilling or new Than sweet Spring's when she dances, and warbles cuckoo? Cuckoo, and cuckoo, and cuckoo ! Though we've look'd in their eyes, until feeling arose, cuckoo ? Cuckoo, and cuckoo, and cuckoo ! Who could swear-I would not-that their voices are clear We have drank of the wine-cup-who has not?-in mirth, |