that all I had has been wasted away in grieving for my son's sickness; and mind you make haste back again, for I have to be at a meeting of the gods to-day."

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Psyche now saw that it was all over with her; and, considering that if she was to go to the Infernal Regions, the shortest way thither would be, by throwing herself from a neighbouring tower, she prepared accordingly. But the tower suddenly found a tongue, and admonished her that if she went to Orcus by that road she would never come back again, it being contrary to Pluto's laws for the soul to travel unless in company with the body; "wherefore," said the friendly tower, go to Lacedæmon, and seek out the hill Tænaros close by, where you will find a cavern that leads to the palace of Pluto. Mind, however, that you do not go emptyhanded, but carry a cake in either hand, made of barley and honey, and a couple of farthings in your mouth. The first you will want to stop the jaws of Cerberus, and the latter to pay old Charon, for dead or living he will ferry no one over the Styx till he has got his fare. When you have gone some way you will meet a lame ass* carrying wood, driven by a fellow who is also lame, and who will ask you to pick up some of the sticks for him, but pass on and say nothing. Next you will come to Charon; let the covetous old rogue take one of the farthings from your mouth himself, and when you are in his boat you will see an aged spectre floating on the water, who will hold up his mouldering hands and cry to be taken in; but yield you not to a compassion that is forbidden. The river being passed, you will come upon some old women spinning,† and they also will pray

None of the commentators have been able to explain this, or the following allusion; they evidently refer to some superstition of which we nowhere else find mention.

†The Parcæ, or Fates.

of you to help them; but do nothing of the kind, for all these are snares set for you by Venus, in the hope that you may drop one of your cakes, which if you should do, you will never see the light of day again, since you will have nought left wherewith to bribe the three-headed dog Cerberus upon your return. Arrived at the palace of Proserpine, she will receive you kindly, and invite you to sit and feast with her; but do you seat yourself on the ground and eat of nothing save brown bread, after which you must tell her the purpose of your coming, and having received her gift for Venus come back directly. Then, as you gave one cake to Cerberus before, so now you must give him the other that he may let you pass freely, and the remaining farthing to Charon. One thing, however, I must particularly caution you against; on no account open the box, or be curious to know what it contains.

Up to a certain point Pysche followed the advice of the prophetic tower with great punctuality. She found Tænarus, passed the ass and his driver in silence, paid the ferryman his fare, took no note of the swimming spectre, fed Cerberus, refused to help the spinners, would eat nothing but brown bread, and came away safely with her box. Once again in the light of day the old curiosity of her sex began to stir within her, and to whisper that she might as well take a little of the beauty for her own use, and thus become more pleasing in the eyes of Cupid; why should she give it all to Venus, who had treated her so cruelly ? So she opened the box, when lo! there was nothing visible within it; but a Stygian sleep-the sleep of death-arose from it, felt though not seen, and invaded all her senses, and she fell to the earth, and lay there a slumbering corse.

But the trials of Pysche were destined to have a fairer end than could have been expected. Cupid, who had by

this time recovered of his burn, and who could no longer endure the absence of his wife, slipt through his prisonwindow, and flew on the wings of love to her assistance. Carefully brushing the fatal sleep from her eyes, he enclosed it again in the box, and waking her with the blunted end of an arrow, said, "Ah Psyche! again has thy curiosity well-nigh destroyed thee. But now arise, and fulfil the hests of my mother, and in the meantime I will provide for the rest."

While Pysche, thus encouraged, set out to fulfil her mission, Cupid, who feared the anger of his mother, betook himself to the footstool of Jove, and there pleaded his own cause so well, that the god-king granted all he desired, and immediately summoned a general congress of all the deities under a penalty of a thousand pounds to whomsoever should be absent. A fine so heavy produced immediate obedience, and when they were all assembled Jupiter in an excellent speech, full of morals and fine sentiments, enlarged upon the peccadillos of Cupid, to which he said it was high time to put an end by giving him a wife who would look after him. Then, turning to Venus, he added, "and you, my dear daughter, trouble not yourself about the bride being only a mortal; I will myself take care that the marriage is all right and proper according to the canons of the civil law." Herewith he commanded a splendid banquet to be spread, at which order the countenances of all his guests began visibly to brighten up, and Pysche being fetched to him by Mercury, he held out to her a sparkling goblet of ambrosia, saying at the same time, "Drink and be immortal; may Cupid never fly from your embraces, but may your nuptials last for ever."

This short speech was mightily applauded by all the gods and goddesses, who now sate down to the feast in high good humour. Ganymede ministered the cup to

Jove; Bacchus served the rest of the company; Vulcan cooked the supper; the Hours crimsoned all around with roses; the Graces scattered perfumes; the Muses sang, while Apollo accompanied them on his harp; Venus, now reconciled to the match, or appearing to be so, danced, as only Venus can dance, to the sweetest music; Satyrus played the flute, and Paniscus recited verse to the sound of the pipe.

Thus was Pysche lawfully married to Cupid, and their first child was Pleasure.

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* According to Pliny (Lib. 35. c. xi.) a certain painter, by name Tauriscus, 'pictured a little Pan, whom he called Paniscus, in manner of an antick." Cicero, however, telis us that the Panisci were inferior deities who presided over woods and fields. They were in fact little Pans, and were much the same as the Satyrisci, or little Satyrs.

THE MONTHS-MARCH.

MARCH the bleak !-March the boisterous!—and what is worse, March who brings that ugly rascal, QUARTER DAY, in his train-" post equitem sedet atra Cura,”and of all the forms which CARE puts on, probably that of QUARTER DAY is one of the blackest. But nevertheless March has his good qualities. He is the harbinger of Spring, though a rough one, and his gales, when most furious, are only helping to dry up the excessive moisture of the earth, so that according to the old proverb, “a bushel of March dust is worth a king's ransom." This applies particularly to the heavier and more productive lands, which, from their marly nature retain the dew and rains of the preceding months much longer than the lighter soils.

In regard to his birth and parentage, he was at one time the year's eldest son, but, somehow January has contrived to snap up his inheritance, although well-nigh the youngest of the family. He was called by the Saxons Rhedmonath, which some have derived from the deity, Rheda, to whom sacrifices were offered in this month; but others maintain that it comes from the Saxon ræd, i.e. council, March being the time when the