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has contained drink or food—friendship's last gift to the dead. This cup is very different from the unshapely hand-made and sun-dried pottery of the Stone Period. It has been rounded on a wheel. It is made of fine baked clay, and is neatly ornamented with a simple pattern. There has been progress, then, in the mechanical arts since the ruder and older time.

23. Let the broken sword next tell its story. The last honour paid to the buried warrior was to break his sword and lay it beside him, ere his companions-in-arms piled over him the memorial cairn. The warrior of the Stone Period was buried with axe, lance, and bow, in barbarian anticipation of warfare beyond the grave; but the warrior of the Bronze Period was laid in his narrow bed with his broken sword, in token of warfare accomplished and of expected rest. This speaks in no obscure language of some better and higher ideas which this ancient race had acquired.


1 Cairn, a heap of stones placed to mark a

grave or where some great event took place. 2 Lochs, lakes. 3 Clyde, a river in Scotland, on which

stands Glasgow.

4 Excavations, cuttings.
5 Alternate, by turns.
6 Barbarian, savage.
7 Equipped, furnished.
8 Civilisation, refinement.
9 Anticipation, expectation



Oh, where is the knight or the squire' so bold

As to dive to the howling Charybdis” below? I cast in the whirlpool a goblet of gold,

And o’er it already the dark waters flow; Whoever to me may the goblet bring, Shall have for his guerdon that gift of his

king." He spoke, and the cup from the terrible steep,

That, rugged and hoary, hung over the verge Of the endless and measureless world of the

deep, Swirled into the maëlstrom that maddened

the surge.

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“And where is the diver so stout to goI ask ye again—to the deep below? And the knights and the squires that gathered

around, Stood silent, and fixed on the ocean their

eyes; They looked on the dismal and savage Profound, 15

And the peril chilled back every thought of

the prize.

And thrice spoke the monarch—"Thecup to win Is there never a wight who will venture in ?” And all as before heard in silence the king, Till a youth with an aspect unfearing but




Mid the tremulous squires, stepped out from

the ring, Unbuckling his girdle, and doffing his

mantle; And the murmuring crowd, as they parted

asunder, On the stately boy cast their looks of wonder.


As he strode to the marge * of the summit, and

gave One glance on the gulf of that merciless

main, Lo! the wave that for ever devours the wave,

Casts roaringly up the Charybdis again ; And as with the swell of the far thunder-boom, Rushes foamingly forth from the heart of the gloom.


And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and

roars, As when fire is with water commixed and

contending, And the spray of its wrath to the welkin 5

upsoars, And flood


flood hurries on, never ending; And it never will rest, nor from travail be free, 35 Like a sea that is labouring the birth of a sea.

Yet, at length comes a lull o'er the mighty

commotion, And dark through the whiteness, and still

through the swell,

The whirlpool cleaves downward and down

ward in ocean A yawning abyss, like the pathway to hell; The stiller and darker the farther it goes, Sucked into that smoothness the breakers



The youth gave his trust to his Maker! Before That path through the riven abyss closed

again, Hark ! a shriek from the gazers that circle the

shore, And behold! he is whirled in the grasp of

the main ! And o'er him the breakers mysteriously rolled, And the giant mouth closed on the swimmer


so bold.


All was still on the height, save the murmur

that went From the grave of the deep, sounding hollow

and fell, Or save when the tremulous sighing lament Thrilled from lip unto lip, “ Gallant youth,

fare thee well!" More hollow and more wails the deep on the More dread and more dread grows suspense' in

its fear.


If thou shouldst in those waters thy diadem $



And cry,“ Who


find it shall win it and wear ; God wot, though the prize were the crown of

a kingA crown at such hazard were valued too

dear. For never shall lips of the living reveal What the deeps that howl yonder in terror conceal.


Oh, many a bark to that breast grappled fast, Has gone down to the fearful and fathomless

grave; Again, crashed together the keel and the mast, To be seen tossed aloft in the glee of the

wave! Like the growth of a storm ever louder and clearer,

65 Grows the roar of the gulf rising nearer and


And it bubbles and seethes, and it hisses and

roars, As when fire is with water commixed and

contending; And the spray of its wrath to the welkin up

soars, And flood upon flood hurries on, never end

ing, And as with the swell of the far thunder-boom, Rushes. roaringly forth from the heart of the



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