robs the goatherd as a penalty for the offence. Thus, he listens and observes. Thus, he tugs at the chain that festers in their shrinking flesh, to show his countrymen their thral-dom. Anon, a shepherd or a herdsman, he traverses the Valley, or scales the rock, joins the youthful throng that stealthily sport beneath the mountain chesnut, or mingles with the vexed vassals who wait their sovereigns' will, and whispers in the ear of each repining soul, ' The avenger of Manfred holds the vigils of Freedom in the cave of the for-est of Palermo.' At sunset, a traveller, he seeks the ren-dezvous : the husbandman is returning to his cottage, his reaping-hook hanging idly from his arm, the Frenchman has gathered the grain from his fields. The herdsman drives his lowing flocks across the lea—the kine and the goat have been robbed of their young, and their fleecy robes been stripped from the bleating' tenants of the fold. The peasant of Hibla returns mourning the swarm which the wind bore beyond his reclaim, but still more the honied stores which during his absence the hand of the spoiler rav-ished from his unprotected apiary. There comes no voice from the vineyard—the vintagers have trodden the wine-press, but the ruby current flows in the goblets that enliven the banquets of their foreign masters. Oh my people, Sicil-ians ! Listen to him who whispers in the ear of each, ' Carry thy wrongs to the cave of the forest of Palermo.' They come—barbarians, Arabs, Jews, Normans and Germans —those who rejoiced in the tolerant reign of the Suabians, those who have suffered from the tyrant French—Etna groanB with the prescience of coming vengeance, and with her thousand tongues of flame, summons the guilty op-pressor to abide the 'judgment of God' before the altar. ****** a ^ vessel sails from Brundusium, the mariners, hardy Calabrians, spread their sails and bend to their oars with patient purpose ; but there is on* among them who never leaves his post, in calm or in storm-one thought gives strength and vigor to his iron arm ; and' though a scorner of puerile beadsmen, he almost prays tb' God of the wind to speed him on his course. Should tht ELEANORA. 451