Yet folk-lore has still one simple which will alleviate his sorrow. Any night he will, he may taste fasting a root of radish, say our old Saxon forefathers, and next day he will be proof against a woman’s chatter.[21] By growing a large bed of radishes, and supping off them regularly, it is thus possible that he might exhaust after a time the verbosity of his spouse, but we are bound to add that we have never heard of such an easy cure being effected. The cucking-stool was found more to the purpose in past days. But Aphrodite lays her finger on our mouth. Having disclosed so many secrets of her worship, it is time now to be silent. After all this love-lore, supposing any one were to take a tender interest in our welfare, we should hint to her that she had no need of borrowed charms or mystic foreshadowing of the future, in Horatian words, which we shall leave untranslated as a compliment to Girton:— Tu ne quæsieris, scire nefas, quem mihi, quem tibi Finem di dederint, Leuconoe; nec Babylonios Tentaris numeros. Simplicity and openness of disposition are worth more than all affectations of dress or manner. Well did the Scotch lad in the song rebuke his sweetheart, who asked him for a “keekin’-glass” (_Anglice_, “looking-glass”):— “Sweet sir, for your courtesie, When ye come by the Bass, then, For the love ye bear to me, Buy me a keekin’-glass, then.” But he answered— “Keek into the draw-well, Janet, Janet; There ye’ll see your bonny sel’, My jo, Janet.” In truth, the best divination for lovers is a ready smile, and the most potent charms a maiden can possess are reticence and patience. And so to end (with quaint old Burton[22]), “Let them take this of Aristænetus (that so marry) for their comfort: ‘After many troubles and cares, the marriages of lovers are more sweet and pleasant.’ As we commonly conclude a comedy with a wedding and shaking of hands, let’s shut up our discourse and end all with an epithalamium. Let the Muses sing, the Graces dance, not at their weddings only, but all their dayes long; so couple their hearts that no irksomeness or anger ever befall them: let him never call her other name than my joye, my light; or she call him otherwise than sweetheart.”—_Belgravia._ A ROMANCE OF A GREEK STATUE. BY J. THEODORE BENT.