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the monument. The dust with which l' long ceased to live, I have not yet it was covered, proved that it must been able to fulfil my promise: but have lain there a considerable time. I every thing is now ready; his Carino The guide took it down and put it now reposes in a little box, and I into my hands. On the lid was writ- hope to find an opportunity of unitten, in small characters, Jean Jaques ing him with his kind master, though lored me. This inscription raised he died so far away from poor Roour curiosity to the utmost; it was sine. Whoever you be that find Casoon gratified. The attendant cut rino, despise not the little bird. He the ribbon, opened the lid, and shew-was tenderly beloved by Rousseau ed us a beautiful little canary-bird, and his Rosine. I will relate his stonicely stuffed, and lying upon a bed ry in a few words, and inclose it in of cotton. At this sight he shrug- this box: you will read it; it will inged his shoulders, smiled contemp-terest you, and you will carry Carituously at the trumpery as he called | no back to the grave of his master. it, and without hesitation made me My name is Rosine. My father, a present of it. Overjoyed like a whose only child I was, resided at child by a Christmas gift, I took Chaux de Fondy, in the principality the box, put it out of sight, lest of Neufchatel. He was a skilful my treasure should be demanded mechanic and watchmaker, the partback from me, and hurried home. I ner of the celebrated Jaques Droz, took the pretty bird cautiously out and made with him those figures of its case, smoothed its yellow plu- which, called by them automata, mage, and blew upon it to lighten it were admired by all Europe, and up, set the little animal upon my fin- were the principal amusement of my ger, and fancied that it was alive, so childhood. I was particularly destrong was the illusion produced by lighted with a musical canary-bird the artifical eyes which had replaced which my father made for me, which the natural ones. I expected every whistled three charming tunes, one moment that it would begin to sing. || after another, in the utmost perfecI then examined the box, and foundtion, at the same time turning his under the cotton a sheet of fine pa- head first one way then another, and per, filled with writing by the same hopping for a quarter of an hour tohand as that on the lid. It was su- gether from perch to perch in his perscribed thus: To those who shall cage, and all so naturally that it find my bird. I read farther, and was quite delightful to see him. I was made acquainted with its whole loved this toy exceedingly; and when, history, a copy of which I here com- after my father's death, my mother municate, without the alteration of a went to live at Mottier-Travers, with single word.
a sister of hers who resided there, I
took with me above all things my To-morrow is the day when the pretty automaton, which I called monument erected to my old friend Bibi. My aunt to whom we removin the Pantheon will be completed. ) ed was likewise a widow, and had a I will not lose a moment, but deposit son, who was but five or six years our canary-bird, as he directed, on older than myself, and of whom I his tomb. Though both, alas! have was very fond. Whenever he came
to see my father, he paid a thousand | him. My aunt accepted the propoattentions to his little cousin. Our | sal : her new tenant took possession mothers often talked of marrying us - it was Rousseau. Opinions diftogether; a plan which pleased me fered widely concerning him: some much, for there was nobody I liked represented him as an angel ; others so well as my cousin Armand. I was as a villain, nay a very devil. My eleven years old, and my cousin, who | aunt declared in his favour, because was seventeen, had been sent for he was her tenant; and my mother, edụcation to a relative in Paris, so because she had read a novel of his that when we came to his mother's writing, with which she was much we did not find him there. This pleased. I, being a little girl, thought was a bitter disappointment to me, neither well nor ill of him; but his and nothing but the caresses of my looks pleased and his dress diverted good aunt, whose spoiled child me. He wore a long coat lined with was, and my pretty canary - bird, fur, fastened round the waist with a could console me for it. I wound him broad girdle, and on his head a fur up at least twenty times a day, with cap in the shape of a turban. In out being tired of the repetition of this costume he resembled a Turkish his three songs. They were then automaton which my father had made, quite new: three airs from the De- beating a drum. All the people of vin du Village; namely, J'ai perdu Mottier called him Jean Jaques the mon serviteur-Si des galans de la Armenian, but I always called him ville; and concluding with the sweet Jean Jaques the automaton. Whenvaudeville, C'est un enfant, c'est ever I saw him coming out, I watchun enfant ! I had been taught the ed him from the window. He always words to them, which I sung in cor- | went out a-walking alone, with a rect tune: my canary-bird accom- || large round tin box under one arm, panied me, turning his head to the and a book under the other. Someright and to the left, and hopping times I placed myself in his way and up and down. We thus formed lit- || made him a low courtesy, which heretle concerts, in which to be sure turned with a smile of pleasure and a there was not much variety, but few kind words; for he was fond of which, nevertheless, afforded a great children, and knew how to make them deal of amusement to my mother fond of him. My aunt, who had reand aunt.
ceived him on his first arrival, and We inhabited with my aunt one formed an acquaintance with his gouwing of the house. The opposite vernante, Therese le Vasseur, whom wing was separated from it by a nar- || she frequently visited, said, that he row garden. An old gentleman from was the best creature in the world, Neufchatel proposed to my aunt to simple as a child, but shy of stranlet this wing, which was very small, gers, and eccentric in his way of life. to a friend. He told her that this He botànized in the morning; in the friend was already in years, and ail evening netted scarfs, which he preing, but that he was a man of mild sented to such females as suckled and amiable disposition, still and re- | their children themselves, and amusserved, and had no one about him ed himself in spare moments with a but a housekeeper who waited on canary-bird which he had brought with him, and which was his only , him, he signified his joy to me by companion. This bird, which occa- signs, and seemed to congratulate me sioned an intimacy between us, was that my bird was not such a rover, poor Carino, who is deposited in this | but contented himself to stay quietly box.
at home. The windows of my room looked It was not long before I saw our towards Rousseau's windows. His neighbour coming across the garden bird had liberty to fly about in his towards our apartments. I was preapartment, but was not allowed to go sently called, and found him seated out of it. One day, allured by the notes | on the sofa between my mother and of my automaton, he seized the op my aunt. “ I am come, my dear,” portunity when the window was open- said he to me, “ to thank you for ed, and flew away across the little the kind reception you gave my bird, garden and alighted on Bibi's cage. and at the same time to beg your I had just wound up Bibi, and he pardon for the bad example that he piped his three tunes. It is impos | has set yours: but you have brought sible to conceive my transport when Il yours up better; he is so well off I saw a second bird arrive: at first with you that he will not leave you." he listened to mine, and then began -"No indeed, sir," I replied laughsinging himself; but not regular tunes, ing, “ there is no fear that he will only wild natural strains, quite a new Ay away; I wish he could.”—“Withkinil of music to me, and therefore the out doubt, that you might see him more delightful. I was enchanted. come back again. Will you have He turned his head too like my Bibi, the goodness to shew him to me? but in a much more lively and natu- || He whistles most charmingly to my ral manner, with more grace and a thinking some tunes that I whistle more expressive eye. I held my fin- myself sometimes.” I sprang up and ger to him, he hopped upon it, and fetched the bird ; and the motionless then flew on iny shoulder, and after- state in which it was, because the wards on my head. My Bibi had work was not wound up, soon denever done any such thing. When monstrated to him what sort of anihe had finished singing, he hopped mal it was. “ An automaton!” exup and down from one perch to ano- || claimed he: “ at a distance my eye ther, always on the same spot, till at and my ear were absolutely deceived; length he stood immoveable. The I mistook it for a living bird." He new bird, on the contrary, flew from took the cage in his hands, and exmy finger upon the cage and from amined the figure. I told him that the cage back again upon my finger. it was the workmanship of my deI raised him to my lips and was go- ceased father, whom I had so tening to kiss him, when a whistle, and derly loved and so deeply lamented. the repeated call of “ Carino!" at- | At the same time I shewed bim how tracted his attention. He flew off, to wind it up, and the bird immediperched by the way upon a tree, and ately began his motions and his prethen returned to his master, who | ludes, and then piped the three tunes stood at the window whistling and call. | one after another. My heart throbing him. As soon as he had secured bed with joy, because I could plain
l'ol. II, No. XXXI.
ly perceive with what pleasure Jean || heretofore done. I took up the cage, Jaques the automaton listened to and was about to carry it away, when Bibi the automaton. I ascribed all Rousseau said, “ Many thanks, my due honour to my Bibi, but took a good Rosa! and thanks to your little little to myself; yet without at that automaton too. He occupied you time guessing the reason why Rous- || with me without your being aware seau was so delighted with the bird, of it, and has taught you to sing because I knew not that he was the songs which I am fond of singing; author of the songs, and that every || but I fear that you will get tired of author likes to hear his works read | them at last."-" O no, sir, never; or sung. I could not of course con- they are so pretty!" He seemed afceive why Rousseau's small but dark | fected." My sweet girl," he reand animated eyes sparkled with || sumed, “ may you ever retain this pride and pleasure. Their fire and inestimable innocence, and never tire expression were heightened when of that which has once given you my aunt desired me to sing the same pleasure! Will you love me, Rosa, songs. I obeyed without hesitation, as you loved your good father?” My for it was just what I earnestly wished eyes filled with tears at the mention to do. I think I still see the good of my father. I replied, shaking Jean Jaques listening to me in trans- my head, " I will love you, sir; I do port, beating time upon my hand, | love you already: but to love you as which he held in his, joining me in my father-indeed that is not in my a low tremulous voice, and repeating, | power. I feel that I shall not love C'est un enfant ! c'est un enfant ! - any one again as I did my father.”— “ A child, and an amiable child!" | “ Excellent girl! well then, love me he added, when the vaudeville was as a friend; call me your good old finished. At the same time he press friend. You will, Rosa, will you not ?" ed my hand, which he still held to These last words he pronounced in his lips. He inquired my name. so pathetic a tone, that I threw my" Rosa, sir."-" A very suitable self into his arms. From this moname for you indeed. But do you ment I was his Rosa, and he my dear know my name, my dear?” I cast || old friend. “Intrust your daughter down my eyes and smiled. My mo- to me," said he, turning to my mother, who was tickled with my idea, ther. “I have occupied myself much told him how I had christened him with education, and I can assure you on account of his dress. Rousseau || that your child shall not be the worse laughed immoderately, and observed, || for it.” My mother thanked him 6: Rosą is not so far out as you may with emotion, and said, that she comimagine, madam. Would to God | mitted me entirely to him. “Hencethat I had been but an automaton, | forward then," said he," you are my or that I could yet become one! That daughter, my pupil, my Sophie!" is all I aspire to: besides, it is the clasping me in his arms. “I wish way to please my little Rosa-how your name had been Sophie; but dearly she loved her pretty canary- || Rosa sounds very pretty, and is a bird !" He was right to say, “ she || very suitable name for you: I like it loved;" for, without knowing why, I too." felt as if I loved Bibi less than I had (To be concluded in our next.)
SUPERSTITIONS ARISING FROM OPTICAL PHENOMENA.
The ancient Gael imagined, that || Kircher accounts for the physical the “ airy forms" of their “ awful causes-of the Fata Morgapa as folfathers bung half viewless in the lows: The mountain which is situatsailing mists of coming day to hear | ed opposite to Rhegio extends from their deeds of renown in the mouth | Calabria towards Beloso. The shores of bards;" and this credulity may of the lake, as well as the bed of it, be explained, as Kircher accounts are covered with a vast quantity of for the wild notion of the Maurita very small pellucid mineral particles, nian shepherds, who imagine that they which are drawn up by the intense visibly contemplate in the air an im heat of the sun along with the vamense assemblage of spirits clothed pours of the lake, and form in the in the skins of wild beasts, and mov- air a perfect speculum, with an iining in varied measures to the har- | mense number of angles. In this mony of the spheres. This illusion speculum, the back-ground of which Kircher rationally infers to have been is formed by the mountain, are recreated by the images of the shep- presented images of different objects, herds reflected on dark clouds; and which vary according to the point of the echoes of the mountains, respon- view in which the beholder's eyes sive to their own voices, they ascrib- are directed towards the aërial mir. ed to spectral demons. Schott, a ror. For the row of columns Kirchlearned German, speaking of the er accounts, by directing the reader famous Fata Morgana in the Mamer to make an experiment of multiplytine sound at Rhegio in Italy, re ing images by corresponding mirmarks, “ This wonderful phenome- || rors, which will convince him, that a non shews itself principally when column on the shores of the lake the heat of the sun is most violent, I would be multiplied in the facettes and, as it should seem, makes the of the atmospheric speculum. Thus Mamertian lake boil up; when a co- a single warrior, if his image should pious mass of vapour rises from its be reflected in the clouds, will represurface, which produces the most sent a multitudinous army. singular appearances. The beholder | In our times, it is generally known imagines that he sees fortresses, pa- that the sun attracts, along with valaces, and houses in regular order pours, many other bodies, such as suspended in the air. These gradu- | chaff, hairs, grains of sand, and mially disappear, and make room for a neral particles, not unfrequently found vast number of columns, which also || in hailstones. Herrera, a Spanish vanish in a short time, to be succeed historian, mentions, that in the couned by an equally splendid and asto- try of Guatimala, in America, the nishing spectacle: large forests and pagan inhabitants believed they saw whole alleys of cypresses and other their idol suspended in the air. These trees present themselves, and spa- || people, being entirely destitute of all cious fields covered with a great physical knowledge, were astonished number of people, and small and at that wonderful sight, and fell uplarge flocks of cattle, and similar ób- on their knees to adore the miracujects, in their natural colours."... llous god. This idol was publicly