hole party; their very existence seemed renewed; the
blood danced about their veins in the liveliest manner imaginable; and
a wild but pleasing titillation ran like lightning through their nerves,
their countenances sparkled with excitement; and they all talked at the
same time. Proserpine was so occupied with her own sensations, that she
did not immediately remark the extraordinary change that had occurred
in the appearance of the country immediately on passing this magical
barrier. She perceived that their course now led over the most elastic
and carefully-shaven turf; groups of beautiful shrubs occasionally
appeared, and she discovered with delight that their flowers constantly
opened, and sent forth from their bells diminutive birds of radiant
plumage. Above them, too, the clouds vanished, and her head was canopied
by a sky, unlike, indeed, all things and tints of earth, but which
reminded her, in some degree, of the splendour of Olympus.

Proserpine, restless with delight, quitted her litter, and followed by
Manto, ran forward to catch the first view of Elysium.

'I am quite out of breath,' said her Majesty, 'and really must sit down
on this bank of violets. Was ever anything in the world so delightful?
Why, Olympus is nothing to it! And after Tartarus, too, and that poor
unhappy Saturn, and his Titans and his twilight, it really is too much
for me. How I do long for the view! and yet, somehow or other, my heart
beats so I cannot walk.'

'Will your Majesty re-ascend your litter?' suggested Manto.

'Oh, no! that is worse than anything. They are a mile behind; they are
so slow. Why, Manto! what is this?'

A beautiful white dove hovered in the air over the head of Proserpine
and her attendant, and then dropping an olive branch into the lap of the
Queen, flapped its wings and whirled away. But what an olive branch!
the stem was of agate; each leaf was an emerald; and on the largest, in
letters of brilliants, was this inscription:

_The Elysians to Their Beautiful Queen_

'Oh, is it not superb?' exclaimed Proserpine. 'What charming people,
and what excellent subjects! What loyalty and what taste!'

So saying, the enraptured Proserpine rose from the bank of violets, and
had scarcely run forwards fifty yards when she suddenly stopped, and
started with an exclamation of wonder. The table-land had ceased. She
stood upon a precipice of white marble, in many parts clothed with
thick bowers of myrtle; before her e