indifferently cooked; a large fruit of the custard
apple genus; prawns, párga fish, and oysters;
several fruits of the cactus, called here tuna,
selected for their size by the general; turkey,
prepared in a fashion peculiar to the country,
boned, and the inside filled with a kind of stuffing
redolent of garlic; a plate of cherries; a
fricandeau of some unknown meat; several slices
of pine-apple; a dish, name unknown, the chief
ingredient being the flesh of the land tortoise;
grapes of various kinds; and an infinite
series of other trifles. No speeches were made;
indeed, the meal was too severe for any but the
most languid conversation. The longest meal
must, however, come to an end, and at last,
after a wind-up of coffee and cigars of an
exquisite flavour, we separated. The Sunday
following, the scene was repeated, but on this
occasion it was the acting president who gave
the breakfast. Having determined not to risk
my life any more by undue complaisance, I
refused all offers of fruit, and ate more moderately.
At last the meal reached its termination, and the
president, filling his glass, looked round the
table, and then at me, and said, "Brindo al
señor qui nos ha llevado treinte mil libras."—"I
drink to the gentleman who has brought us
thirty thousand pounds." I was somewhat
disconcerted by the wording of the toast, and
thinking that it spoke for itself, judged it
unnecessary to rise to respond. Presently, filling
his glass again, the old general said, "I drink
now to the English government, which has
always been the protector of Venezuela, and has
set the best example for free states to follow."
This, of course, compelled me to reply, and I
expressed the pleasure I had had in visiting that
beautiful country, in which Nature had been so
lavish of her gifts, and whose inhabitants, by
their gallant struggle for liberty, had shown
themselves worthy of such a fair inheritance.
England, I said, was the friend of all free
nations, and would no doubt support the
Venezuelans in maintaining their independence, as
warmly as she had aided them in acquiring it.
These, and many other things, I was obliged to
say in English, not haying sufficient Spanish at
command for an oration. A friend, however,
translated what I had said into pure Castilian,
and his version seemed to give great satisfaction,
more particularly as he compressed my harangue
into very small compass. Nothing, however,
seemed to please the company so much as my
happening to say "Viva la Amarilla!"—"Hurrah
for the yellow!" which I did when a flower of
that colour was given me, though I had no idea
that yellow was the colour of the party in power.
The next speech was the health of the ministers,
proposed by a red-hot republican, who
discoursed with immense fluency on the rights of
man. Among other things, he assured us that,
as all obstacles to perfect freedom were at length
removed, Venezuela would now enjoy permanent
tranquillity, during which all the blessings of the
golden age would be restored. Ten days afterwards,
one of the ministers and a number of leading
men were arrested and thrown into prison,
while, at the same time, an insurrection with
which it was supposed they were connected,
broke out in several of the provinces.

CROESUS AND ADRASTUS.
(HERODOTUS i. 35.)

FORTUNE, that walks above the heads of men,
I' the rolling clouds, the witless denizen
Of airy Nothing, by Necessity
Among the unsteady Hours with hooded eye,
Subservient to a will not hers, is led:
And, as she passes, oft upon his head
That underneath heaven's hollowness doth stand,
Highest of men, her loose incertain hand
Lets fall the iron wedge and leaden weight.

Crœsus, the lord of all the Lydian state,
Of men was held the man by Fortune best
With her unheedful blind abundance blest:
Because all winds into his harbours blew
Opulent sails; because his sceptre drew
Out of fair lands a majesty immense;
Because, to enrich his swol'n magnificence,
The homage of a hundred hills was roll'd
Upon a hundred rivers; because gold
And glory made him singular in the smile
O' the seldom-smiling world, a little while.

To him, in secret vision, at the deep
Of night, what time Fate walks awake through
      Sleep,
The gods reveal'd that, in the coming on
Of times to be, Atys, his best-loved son,
Untimely, in the unripe putting forth
Of his green years, and blossom-promised worth,
By an iron dart must perish.
Then the king, Long while within himself considering
The dreadful import of the dream,—in fear
Lest any iron javelin, lance, or spear,
Left to the clutch of clumsy chance, should fall
On Atys,—gave command to gather all
Such weapons out of reach of him he loved,
Safe in a secret chamber far removed.
And,—that the menaced prince no more should take
His wont i' the woods, with baying dogs to break
The rough boar's ambush, nor the lion wound,
Nor flying stag, with dexterous darts,—he found,
And wived to Atys, the most beautiful
Of Lydian women: like a white vase, full
Of somnolent odours, sculptured round, and wrought
With bounteous curves of intricate beauty, brought
Voluptuously into one complete
Rich-surfaced shape. Of essence all so sweet,
Contain'd in form so faultless fair, was she
Whose claspèd arms should gentle gaolers be
To Crœsus' chiefest treasure.
This being done,The king was comforted about his son.
But, while the nuptial feast at 'mid of mirth,
O'erflowed with festival the golden girth
Of the king's palace,—while, with fold on fold
Of full delight, the mellow music roll'd
From Lydian harps a heaving heaven of sound
I' the gorgeous galleries, and garlands crown'd
Warm faces in a mist of odours rare,—
There came before the king at unaware
A stranger from beyond the storm-beat sea:
A man pursued by pale calamity,