their only child, to Ernest, who might deem himself accessory to her being carried off. Oh! how happy would she be, could he be there to aid her! Scarcely had the last thought struck her mind, when again she heard the harsh grating of the dungeon door, and beheld, not the gaunt form of the robber, but the fine manly form of Ernest! Full of wonder at his sudden appearance-so abrupt, so unexpected-she appeared for some time doubtful of the reality of his presence.

He briefly explained the occasion of his visit; alleging, as time was precious, he could not delay.

"Adela requested he would gratify her by telling her who he was.

"

"If you wish to hear a short story you may learn.

"I am the only son of the late Baron Von Herman, rightful proprietor of this castle. I well remember the attack by the robber, who is called the Wolf of Ehrenbreitstein :' my father, surrounded by his valiant serfs, defended themselves gallantly. An entrance having been obtained, the ruffians mastered the men, and my heroic father was slain by the sword of their brutal leader, in defence of his home and family. My mother, together with me, was taken: I was at that time eight years old, and was confined with her in a distant moss-covered

tower.

"We seldom saw our victor: he did not mind, since he had gained his end. It was said, at least he spread the report, that he was rightful possessor of Ehrenbreitstein, by marriage with the lady of the late lord, my father; but nothing could be more untrue. We passed our days in retirement. A holy man who had been chaplain to the castle during my father's lifetime, by some means had contrived to get into the service of the present cruel occupier, chiefly with the motive of superintending my education; and through his means I have been allowed to leave this castle, when our jailor is on one of his predatory excursions. It was on one of these leaves of absence, that I have been fortunate enough to save you from peril, which I shall ever consider the most fortunate occurrence of my life; and if a second time succeed I shall be supremely happy."

Adela informed him of the dreadful determination of their victor, and his resolve of marriage, and entreated him as he valued her affection to lose no time in communicating with her friends. Ernest, having promised immediate com.

pliance with her request, and exhorted her to support her spirits—that all would yet be well, tenderly bade adieu,

The non-appearance of Adela at the Castle of Drachenfell created an alarm which may easily be conceived; while various dangers suggested themselves to the minds of her terrified parents, as the probable cause of her absence ;-that she had been without the demense was evident, from the circumstance of a veil having been found, which was recollected to have been worn by her on the preceding evening, therefore a party of men were appointed to traverse the country in quest of her,

This vain movement was however frustrated by the arrival of a stranger at the castle; he had been seen from the watch-tower, advancing at a rapid pace; when he approached, he demanded instantly to see the Count, as he had important tidings to communicate: he was shewn into a saloon where the Count and Countess d'Arnstein were silently praying the protection of heaven for their absent child.

When the youth entered, the Count instantly recognised him as their preserver, and having embraced him, presented him to the Countess. "You have heard doubtless of the dreadful disappearance of our beloved child," said the Count.

Yes Sir," replied Ernest," and I have seen her within half-an-hour."

Where, oh! where is my Adela," cried both earnestly, "can we see her?"

"That I am afraid," he said, "will be no easy matter, but we must determine what is best to be done."

He then informed her father, that unless released within four days, his daughter would be wife of the Wolf of Ehrenbreitstein, that it would require a strong force to secure the passes, but that he would engage to facilitate the entrance.

The young

The unhappy parents blessed the youth, and the Count vowed that if his daughter was released from the power of the robber knight, she should become the wife of her gallant defender. man, overpowered with joy, departed with a fixed determination either to set Adela free, or dié in the attempt. He appointed that the friar, his tutor (who lived as a soldier in the service of the robber), should guard the avenue, and have a free passage in that quarter, and resolved that he himself should open the main gate, from whence the other defences might be easily carried.

The third day had already passed in gloomy anticipation, and Adela had retired to rest with a heavy heart, when the shrill and repeated sounding of a horn at the outer gate, announced the arrival of the dreaded captain and his ruffian band, with shouts of savage triumph, that reached even the agonised soul of the lone tenant of the dungeon: they told of many a ruthless deed committed during their excursion, and displayed the spoil to celebrate their chieftain's wedding on the following day; and long and earnestly that dreary night on the cold floor stones of her cell, did Adela entreat the bounteous hand of the Almighty to protect and comfort her.

The following morning, pale with watching, Adela arose; the sun played cheerfully through the massy grating of the prison, and the little birds, fluttering round the ivy-mantled walls, seemed as if trying to divert her, but only increased her melancholy, when she recollected how free as they she sported through the flowery meadows of her native village, or rambled with her companions by the banks of the lovely streams, that bursting with a torrent's flow, sweep from the hills, and gently meandering through her father's domains, and uniting with the majestic Rhine, are lost in the immensity of ocean. Thence what a change! now abandoned to the power of a cruel villain, torn from her friends; and the uncertainty of their being able to proeure any force sufficient to combat him, overpowered her weakened spirits to such a degree that she sank to her wretched couch in a state of insensibility. • When she awoke, she

班

found herself supported between her father and Ernest, while a strange lady was applying restoratives to bring her to her senses. When she beheld her father she uttered a thankful prayer, and requested to be taken to her mother, which was accordingly done.

During her faint, her dungeon door was opened, and entered by the robber and his attendants, who carried their unresisting victim to their profane ceremony, where a burlesque altar stood, ready provided with a mock priest. The sacrilegious marriage had just commenced, when their devotions were disturbed by the clash of swords from the old court-yard, and the chapel was soon filled by the victorious party, in which Ernest was conspicuous.

The robber instantly guessing that it was the rescue of his purposed bride, resolved to have the gratification of

foiling the attempt; and drawing a pistol from his girdle, was in the act of raising it at the breast of the gentle and passive Adela, when with the rapidity of lightning a sabre stroke descended on the ruffian's head, which cleft to his very brain-he fell dead to the ground, and the unused weapon dropped from his hand! The robbers having lost their leader, were easily vanquished, and Ernest Von Herman having revenged the death of his father, on the despoiler of their house, and having released his betrothed Adela from the merciless robber, went with the joyful tidings to his captive mother, who fully participated in all his joy.

In due time the castle was repaired, and Ernest restored to all his hereditary estates and honours; he did not remain long without having a sharer for them, whose name it is needless to mention. Nothing could exceed the splendour of the marriage feast, all the guests of both castles were received with Faus un Braus, and a numerous and distinguished progeny fully testified the panegyric at their death, which states that " They lived happy and died lamented.”

RODERICK.

RETORT OF NAPOLEON.

When Napoleon was only an officer of artillery, a Prussian officer said in his presence with much proudness: "My countrymen fight only for glory, and Frenchmen fight for money.' "You are right," replied Napoleon, "each of them fight for what they are in want of."

ADVICE TO MASTERS.

Mr. D-, wearied at the inattention of his servant, said to him, one day"Valentine, thou shalt dine to-morrow at my table, in this very dining-room." "Sir, you do me too much honour," replied he." Thou shalt dine alone, and I will serve thee."-"Ah, sir, you are jesting with a poor servant, whose zeal and devotedness are well known to you."" Poh! zeal is quite out of the question; I tell thee I will wait upon thee myself, with the napkin under my arm; but mind, if the next day, thou do'st not recollect how I wish to be waited upon, I will turn thee away from my service." As was said, was done, and, since that time, Mr. D- is served as he wishes to be. The saturnalia of the ancients were instituted with that intention. Those were the good old times of masters and servants.

THE LILY OF JERUSALEM.

(Amaryllis Lutea.) Natural Order, Liliaceae. Linnean, Hexandria Monogynia.

IN the wane of the year, while the richest blossoms of autumn are hastening to their fall, we commence the floral illustration of our Parterre, in full confidence that the bounty of nature will furnish a sufficient number of her silken tribes, who love to blossom on the wintry air, to make our progress an agreeable one, till spring will shower a profusion of treasures perplexing to the choice of the florist.

We give deserved precedence to the amaryllis lutea, for, of all the flowers of the field, she has been most highly favoured, being indisputably the lily of Jerusalem, to which our Saviour alluded in his Sermon on the Mount. We have excellent authority for declaring that the amaryllis lutea was really this sacred lily, for these are the words of the late lamented professor of botany, Sir James Edward Smith.

"There is a celebrated text of great beauty, to which I have ventured to apply a botanical elucidation. Our Saviour says to his disciples, Consider the lilies of the field.' This is commonly

applied either to the white lily or the tulip, neither of which grows wild in Palestine. It is natural to suppose that the Divine Teacher, according to his usual custom, called the attention of his hearers to some object near at hand; and as the fields of Palestine are over-run with the amaryllis lutea, whose golden liliacious blossoms afford collectively one of the most brilliant and gorgeous views in nature, the expression of "Solomon in all his glory not being arrayed like one of these," is peculiarly appropriate. I consider the feeling with which this was expressed, as the highest honour ever done to the study of plants; and if my botanical conjecture be right, we learn a chronological fact respecting the season of the year when the Sermon on the Mount was delivered.'

After this explanation there cannot be a doubt as to which of the liliucea is the true lily of Jerusalem. This hallowed blossom is at present in its prime, and those of our readers who require some inducement for taking a healthful country walk, may make a pilgrimage to some of our metropolitan nursery-grounds, in search of this "sweet flower of Palestine." At this season of the year-in this identical week, it is, or ought to be, blooming in the open air. For the small outlay of sixpence, our botanical pilgrim may bring home the floral trea

sure-root, leaves, and blossoms ; examine it at leisure, and compare it with our drawing. Well worth the scrutiny it is. We have given its form and outline: we will now tell the other tokens by which it may be recognised. The amaryllis lutea has long dark-green leaves polished like satin, of a colour and texture very uncommonly seen in bulbous-rooted plants, which usually send forth blue or glaucous green leaves of loose substance, and with lateral veins, very different from the somewhat vascular consistence of those of this amaryllis. This dark verdure is beautifully contrasted by its paly-gold flowers, which are of the most delicate and velvety consistence-they look like canary birds converted into flowers. The habits and form of the lily of Jerusalem bear some resemblance to the crocus; but the class and order, and the spatha situated on the green foot-stalk, and the somewhat sidelong inclination of the petals, point it out as belonging to that family of lilies which are called amaryllis;-yet this lily is certainly the link between the liliacious and the crocus tribes. It appears first above ground nearly at the same time with the autumnal crocuses, at the latter end of September, putting forth several of the said green-ribbon leaves. In the centre of these groups appears a white pouch, that looks as if made of tissue paper;-as this grows higher, about two inches, the green footstalk ascends. The spatha at last rends, and out comes a delicate yellow bud, that soon expands, and lasts several days in beauty. Only one flower abides in each of the pouches, but there is a succession of these receptacles, that push up one after the other through the autumn. If the reader rips up the tube of the flower, beginning at the spatha or paper-like calyx, the following is the appearance that will present itself; Six anthers, which classes it hexandria, and confirms it as belonging to the lily tribe. These anthers surround one triangular headed pistil, which descends through the tube of the corolla till it meets the white spatha-calyx. Having but one pistil, the plant is placed in the order monogynia. In the crocus, the tubular termination of the corolla that encloses the pistil reaches to the ground, and nearly to the root of the plant. In the amaryllis lutea this curious prolongation of the corolla only reaches to the calyx, situated like those of the jonquils -high on the footstalk. Thus we find this beautiful amaryllis partakes of the

form and habits of the crocus and the narcissi, while its botanical construction marks it a lily,—it is among the most interesting occupations of the botanical florist to investigate these affinities.

The corolla, or flower-cup of the amaryllis lutea, is divided into six petals, which are all united at the termination of the blossom in the above-mentioned tube. Like most whole-cupped flowers the petals do not fly off, but wither round the germen. The liliacious nectarism may be observed in the valve, running down the midrib of each petal. In Norfolk and Suffolk the amaryllis lutea is often seen in all sorts of gardens, being cultivated out of love to the memory of Sir J. E. Smith, who first noticed its connexion with Scripture. It was introduced in England as early as the days of old Tradescant; at present it is very rare in the gardens round the metropolis, though it deserves, being very easy of culture, to make its annual autumnal appearance as profusely as the daffodil, the crocus, and hepatica do in our spring borders. In Miller, and other old garden books, it is called the autumnal narcissus-lily. When the blossoms die away, the leaves have scarcely attained their growth; they continue to increase in length and breadth through the winter, till the longest attain the length of five inches, and half an inch in width; they are marked by an indented crease down the centre, and are almost of the firm shining consistence and net-work texture of evergreen leaves; and therefore we deem these plants rather a stumbling-block to the exclusive partizans of the natural system. These leaves of evergreen are very ornamental in winter, when verdure is scarce among herbaceous plants. About April, yellow spots appear on the surface of the leaves; and in May, they die down and disappear. The new root of the plant is then perfectly formed, and they may be taken up and transplanted, or laid by till July. If the roots be disturbed before the leaves die away, like all other bulbs the plant resents such treatment. The amaryllis lutea from which this description was taken did not bloom for three years, because it was transplanted when the leaves were green. When pleased with its situation, it throws up a great number of off-sets, which, if undisturbed, bloom the next year. It does not like the drip of trees nor the shade of a wall, but increases very freely in any sunny situation; and is most beautiful when

many of its bulbs are congregating together, giving a glorious golden glow to the ground for many feet near them, and calling to mind in autumn the beauties that struck the eye of our Saviour when it carpeted the valley of Jehosaphet, and the hollows of the Mount of Olives.

Like many of our bulbous-rooted flowers, particularly the liliaceae, many of whom, as in the instance of the typical queen of the tribe, the stately white lily, are natives of the east ; difference of climate seems to make little variation in the season of flowering; the amaryllis lutea, with us, is a late autumnal flower-in Palestine, an early one. Yet, the later it condescends to bloom in autumn, the more precious is its addition to our list of flowers; and it often sheds its golden beauties on the dismal days of November, realizing the words of Percival, the American poet :

I found that lily's bloom

When the day was dark and chill;
It smiled like a star in the misty gloom,
And it breathed a soft perfume,

Which is floating around me still.

For I'd found out a sweet green spot
Where that lily was blooming fair;
The din of the city disturbed it not,
But the spirit that shades the quiet cot
With its wings of love was there.

A TRUE TALE OF THE COLISEUM.

PART THE SECOND.

EVEN on the day previous to that appointed for the display of the imperial skill in the amphitheatre, the whole city was in motion. Not only the throngs within the walls, but also multitudes from the Campagna, came pouring through the gates.

The establishment of the emperor was, of itself, immense in number, and dazzling in magnificence; the brilliantly arrayed pretorians alone amounting to twenty thousand. These, with courtiers, senators and other officers of the empire, with their household, slaves, etc., were seen, some rolling in gorgeous equipages through the streets-some lounging at the doors and porticos-some reclining in the baths and forums. As the huge sun lay broad and dimmed upon the western mountains, all came forth to breathe the cool freshness of the evening. To the general throngs now abroad in the high, narrow streets, Spain, Egypt,

Gaul, Dacia, and Britain, Syria, Phenicia and Palestine, Cæsariensis and Tingitana, added their tributes.

As the golden hues of the dying day faded from the luminous heavens, it was only to give place to other light more enchanting. One after another silently came forth the soft, burning stars, and the full moon rose above the high edge of the Coliseum, and sent its silver flood over the city. Already a huge crowd had gathered about the amphitheatre, consisting of workmen and slaves preparing for the sports of the morrow; for, in honour of the imperial gladiator, many additions were to be made to the furniture of the fierce and giant temple of pleasure. The ordinary nets, designed as a defence against the wild beasts, were displaced by others of golden wire; the porticoes were to be gilded; the belt or circle which divided the several ranks of spectators, was to be studded with mosaic of beautiful and precious stones, and the other decorations of gold, silver and amber, were not yet quite completed. Then many of the multitudes had acquired permission to see the interior of the wonderful structure, and the crowd was swelled by strangers who had never before been in Rome, and the slaves were conveying the wild beasts to their dens in the edifice; in short, the whole area around the theatre itself, and by the arch of Titus, and even the Forum, and the steps up the Capitoline hill, and all the accessible parts of the Palatine were completely occupied by the people, although not to such a degree as to prevent their wandering about, except in the immediate vicinity of the Coliseum.

Upon the balcony of a marble palace, which overlooked the crowd, the Coliseum, and several adjoining open parts of the city, there sat two individuals alone. They were aged men, and as they reclined on couches upon the marble portico, while the liquid sound of falling water from a near fountain came cool and grateful to their ears, they seemed enjoying the scene, and, at the same time, engaged in conversation. No one was within reach of their voices. The long hall, into which the balcony led, was empty. It was the palace of Claudius Pompeianus, and this venerable lord, with his aged mate, Pertinax, was there-two old Romans- really virtuous, enlightened, and alone.

"I know not," said Claudius, in reply to a remark which his friend had previously made; "it is but lately, as old age crept over my limbs, and my