’T is the bugle- but not for the chase is the call:
'T is the Pibroch's shrill summons-but not to the hall.

”T is the summons of heroes for conquest or death,
When the banners are blazing on mountain and heath;
They call to the dirk, the claymore, and the targe,
To the march and the muster, the line and the charge.

Be the brand of each Chieftain like Fin's in his ire!
May the blood through his veins flow like currents of fire !
Burst the base foreign yoke as your sires did of yore,
Or die like your sires, and endure it no more!

CHAPTER XXIII.

Waverley continues at Glennaquoich.

As Flora concluded her song, Fergus stood be fore them. « I knew I should find you here, even without the assistance of my friend Bran. A simple and unsublimed taste now, like my own, would prefer the jet d'eau at Versailles to this cascade, with all its accompaniments of rock and roar; but this is Flora's Parnassus, Captain Waverley, and that fountain her Helicon. It would be greatly for the benefit of my cellar if she could teach her coadjutor, MacMurrough, the value of its influence: he has just drank a pint of usquebaugh to correct, he said, the coldness of the claret-Let me try its virtues.» He sipped a little water in the hollow of his hand, and immediately commenced, with a theatrical air,

« O Lady of the desert, hail !
That lovest the barping of the Gael,

Through fair and fertile regions borne,
Where never yet grew grass or corn.

But English poetry will never succeed under the influence of a Highland Helicon.-Allons, courage.

O vous, qui buvez à tasse pleine,
A cette heureuse fontaine,
Où on ne voit sur le rivage,

Que quelques vilains troupeaux,
Suivis de nymphes de village,

Qui les escortent sans sabots. »

« A truce, dear Fergus! spare us those most tedious and insipid persons of all Arcadia. Do not, for Heaven's sake, bring down Coridon and Lindor upon us.»

« Nay, if you cannot relish la houlette et le chalumeau, have with you in heroic strains.»

« Dear Fergus, you have certainly partaken of the inspiration of Mac-Murrough's cup, rather than of mine.»

I disclaim it, ma belle demoiselle, although I protest it would be the more congenial of the two. Which of your crack-brained Italian romancers is it that

says,
lo & Elicona niente
Mi curo, in fe de Dio, che'l bere d'acque
(Bea chi ber ne vuol) sempre mi spiacque !

But if you prefer the Gaelic, Captain Waverley,

· Good sooth, I reck nought of your Helicon;
Drink water whoso will, in faith I will drink none.

here is little Cathleen shall sing you, Drimmindhu.-Come, Cathleen, astore, (i. e, my dear,) begin; no apologies to the Cean-kinné. »

Cathleen sung with much liveliness a little Gaelic song, the burlesque elegy of a country. man upon

the loss of his cow, the comic tones of which, though he did not understand the language, made Waverley laugh more than once,

« Admirable, Cathleen!» cried the Chieftain; «I must find you a handsome busband among the clansmen one of these days,»

Cathleen laughed, blushed, and sheltered herself behind her companion.

In the progress of their return to the castle, the Chieftain warmly pressed Waverley to stay for a week or two, in order to see a grand hunting party, in which he and some other Highland gentlemen proposed to join. The charms of melady and beauty were too strongly impressed in Edward's breast to permit his declining an invitation so pleasing. It was agreed, therefore, that he should write a note to the Baron of Bradwardine, expressing his intention to stay a fortnight at Glennaquoich, and requesting him to forward by the bearer (a gilly of the Chieftain) any letters which might have arrived for him.

This turned the discourse upon the Baron, whom Fergus highly extolled as a gentleman and soldier. His character was touched with

yet more discrimination by Flora, who observed he was the very model of the old Scottisb cavalier, with all his excellencies and peculiarities. «It is a character, Captain Waverley, which is fast disappearing; for its best point was a self-respect which was never lost sight of till now. But now, in the present time, the gentlemen whose principles do not permit them to pay court to the present government, are neglected and degraded, and many conduct themselves accordingly; and, like some of the persons you have seen at Tully-Veolan, adopt habits and companions inconsistent with their birth and breeding. The ruthless proscription of party seems to degrade the victims whom it brands, however unjustly. But let us hope brighter day is approaching, when a Scottish country-gentleman may be a scholar without the pedantry of our friend the Baron, a sportsman without the low habits of Mr Falconer, and a judicious improver of his property without becoming a boorish two-legged steer like Killancureit.»

Thus did Flora prophecya revolution, which time indeed has produced, but in a manner very different from what she had in her mind.

The amiable Rose was next mentioned, with the warmest encomium on her person, manners, and mind, « That man,» said Flora, « will find an inestimable treasure in the affections of Rose Bradwardine, who shall be so

a