rage, unable, as we trust, any longer to avert the chastisement which so deservedly must overtake sooner or later the patrons of wrong and robbery-the stiflers of "the sick man," after the fashion of Russian royalty— the slaughterers of the wounded at Inkermann, and, more than all, the cowardly fautors and abettors of the cruel massacre at Hango :
"Proof no more 'gainst vengeance' arm,
Broken by the bitter blow,
Grimly laughs the robber swarm,
Grinning o'er the fallen foe.
Round their ships, with death-fires rife,
Lo! they run the race of life:
While the tall pines round them burn,
They to Jove the Router pray
That the sting of death he turn-
From the broken-turn away.
Vain the breastwork, vain the fosse,
Spiked with serried stakes across.
Vain shall in that hour be found
Rampired fleet and leaguered mound.
Stem and stern, and half-deck o'er,
Lo! the tumblers leap amain-
Leap, and with their gushing gore
Wave and wall in death distain."
LYCOPHRON, Cassandra, 284.
P.S.-Since the immediately foregoing paragraphs have been passing for the last time through the press, the all-important events therein foreshadowed from Lycophron, with such exactness, and anticipated with so much earnestness by the nation at large, have been in a great measure accomplished; to the unfeigned satisfaction of every patriot, and amidst the thankful rejoicings of all Englishmen, save one, throughout Her Majesty's dominions.
DATE OF THE REPRESENTATION OF THE DRAMA.
Olympiad 80, 2nd year 458 B.C.-the seventh year of the Messenian war-towards the end of Archonship of Philocles.-Cf. Fynes Clinton, Fasti Hellenici,' sub anno supradicto, p. 45.]
NAMES are immortal, like the men that bear them,
Living for good or evil. Evermore
The self-same voice re-echoes, calling up,
Through openings of the present, memories
And visions of the past, forewarning men
Of what may be hereafter, when the great
And glorious of our time their work have done,
And lived their earthly life out, and uprising
Have cast their mantle on the age to come.
That age to come may reverence them, as we
Revere the bygone; as we carry on
The mystery of their being through all time,
By quickening things before us, with the name,
The living name, that quickened them of old,
And, with its twofold being, yet shall live,
To stir all coming generations
With the great thought it feeds :-the double thought
Of what it is, of what it was, the fulness
Of a wide-linking and accordant one.
Three thousand years agone, one name was heard
Threading the straits and narrows of a sea
Far bruited for its beauty, and "the Loves "*
That since that night its purple waves have tinged
With a lone watchtower's streak of signal-light,
Now all unseen, yet burning brightening still,
A torch that, long as Love shall last, burns on.
One name there was that thrilled that narrow stream,*
And, issuing out into the world of waters,
Was syllabled in sound, and strait, and bay,
Where'er, amid the mainland and the isles
Of Greece, men landed on the marble mole,
Where'er men gathered in the busy mart,
Where'er men gave their greeting in the porch,
Or piled their spear-staves in the column-flutes,
Or banqueted in halls of royalty,
Or in hypothric temple met and mused,
Or paced at eventide down the dim street,.
And out into the ilex-grove, beyond
The walls Cyclopean and the giant gate
Of Tiryns or Mycenae, fences old
Of those hoar warriors who lived before
The king of men, Mycenae's Agamemnon.
Name of renown! well might men talk of thee,
And utter thee, as his great name, who ruled
Lord of the Isles and Argos' broad domain;
The old sea-king-ploughing the Ægean field
With keel sharp furrowing, Taker of Troy-Town,
Priam's Antagonist and Conqueror,
The Princely Marshal of a Ten years' leaguer;
Whose going out in hope, whose coming in
With triumph and ovation, was a gift
Of Gods-the glory of the land of Hellas,
The joy of many a raptured singing man,
* The renown of Agamemnon and his arms before Troy had, without doubt, spread beyond the Troade, over the entire north-western coast of Mysia, and along the whole south-eastern shore, and indeed down both sides, of the Hellespont.
The theme of the great masters of old song,
As of the maiden, who with urn upon
Her arm, at nightfall when the merry stars
Sang the day's lullaby, went forth to draw,
At the green hamlet's wellspring, water for
Her home and household, whiling the dim path,
Betwixt the fount and doorstep, with a hymn
Telling of the great prowess of the father,
With lamentation of his old stout heart
And eye, that could not staunch the starting tear :
What time for Greece he gave his daughter up
Into the hands of the sacrificers;
A father every whit, yet less a father
Than a right-royal, self-devoting king :
A name-yea more than name -a Tower of strength
To Hellas and her chivalry built
Of huge stones hewn from out the natural quarry
Of their "great greatness," and all freshly cut
And shaped and graven by his marvellous hand,
"The Blind old Bard of Chio's rocky isle."
Nor dies that name forgotten-now, even now,
In these the latter days of earth-that name,
-Whose bearer in the olden times so oft
Had stood the war-brunt valiantly in face
Of wall and rock and breastwork, foeman-lined,-
For us, beyond the silver Hellespont,
Beyond the channelled Bosphorus, hath awakened
The roarings of an iron-girded shore,
And filled all hearts with pride, all ears with tales
And tidings of great power and deeds heroic,
Unparalleled, if not successful all,
Wrought, in the cause of truth and loyalty,
On the grim sea-board, ever consecrate
To the memorial of that sea-king's child,
Iphigenia, rescued deer of Aulis,
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