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imitator of Shakspeare, on the length he recollected what Atheta Freneh boards; but Dueis repre- had told him of the great resemsented to him that this species blance between her and her sister. of composition was so much op- That reflection disconcerted all posed to his own, that it was not his ideas, and recalled all his sorpossible for the public to mistake row. All he seemed surprised them, and he proposed in his place at was, that his heart was as mach his Secretary Desfaucheraire, It mistaken in the resemblance as is cold like its royal author, and his eyes. was most probably touched up by He was still lost in thought, Ducis, as it is not deficient as to when a bard, who had been forcomposition. Under the name of merly at the king of East Britain's Morel, he also caused two operas court, knew and accosted himn. to be performed, “ Panurge” and A bard was then what a poet is the “Caravane du Caire,” which amongst us, except that they were owing to the charming music of fewer in number, and more reGretry, succeeded. In 1814 he spected. They were known by wrote several political articles, distinctive and honourable marks, which were inserted in the “ Jour- and were the only historians of nal de Paris," but they were fee- the nation. Their usual employble, and without effect.
ment was to sing the actions of great men. They passed frequently from district to distritt,
and never failed resorting to court. CORAND AND ATHETÀ.
This bard was come to try his An ancient British Novel. fortune at that of the new queen, (Continued from page 262.)
and was surprised that Corand The day after his arrival, the did not appear there in a splenqueen, shewed herself in public, donr suitable to his dignity. The and in all the pomp of royalty. prince, in need of such a confident, . An air of langour seemed to make easily 'prevailed upon him to sesome addition to her charms. Co-cond his views in regard to the rand, mingling with the crowd, queen who had made a deep imsaw her, and was seized with pression on his mind. “My acastonishment. "'Tis Atheta," quaintance with that princess is cried he, the same features, the but slender," replied' the bard, same charms, the same grace; no · having been but twice in ter resemblance was ever so striking, presence. She is, undoubtedly, and the gods are not lavish of the handsomest person of her beings so perfect. He had much court, and, I think, labours under ado not to interrupt the ceremony some uneasiness of mind. But by a lively and tender scene. At she hides, they say, the cause of
this melancholy, and the respect had been robbed of his Atheta. due to her does not permit any He adopted such moving words, one so much as to hint at what she that the whole assembly was deepwould have buried in silence.- ly affected by them, and the queen “ Yet,” pursued he, “ I hope, let drop some tears. It even apwith the help of my art, to clear peared to the bard, that she used up your doubts, and perhaps to violence against herself to refrain mitigate the queen's extreme un- shewing further marks of pertareasiness.”
bation. · Two days after the bard pre- She detained bin when he made sented himself to the queen, and a motion for taking leave, and she was pleased to give him a stepping aside with him, “ You hearing, which was all he wanted must own," said she, “ that you and wished for. He promised her have been representing a child of songs which had never yet been your own fancy, an object that has heard by any one, a promise which no other being but in your song." had made the queen very atten-“ No, great queen,” replied the tive. He began with the portrait of bard, “ my hero really exists: his hero, whom he affected not to even is he in many respects far name; but whoever had seen Co- superior to the picture I have only rand could not be mistaken in the given you the out-lines of." The person ; and whoever had not seen queen at these words remained for him, longed from that time for the some time deeply fixed in thought. pleasure. The queen appeared The bard, quite studious of her suddenly to wander in thoughts looks, judged that she was more of tender emotions. The bard's persuaded of what he averred, song was conceived in nothing of than she would suffer to appear.lowly strain. He sung the exploits At last, she asked him in what of a young warrior, his rapid con- country dwelt the hero whom he quests, his courage in battle, his had so well celebrated. elemency after victory. He re- your's, madan," answered he, vived the idea of the precious mo
66 but I think he has lived in it ment, when subdued by his pri- but a short time.” What!” soner, from a conqueror as he was, | plied she, with emotion, is there he became a slave. He painted nothing in my state worth his acin lively colours the pleasures the ceptance? Your prince loves gloyoung and lovely pair had enjoyed ry, I govern a warlike people, and in their retreat: but the bard sur- have no general : that post does passed himself towards the end of not seem to me unworthy of being his song ; and this was in express - offered to him.” To this invitaing Corand's grief ever since he tion, she added, that there should
be for him the next day a private l'he answered, but by eluding the audience, if he judged proper to offers which had been made him, avail himself of it.
that taken up in searching after a An impulse, not to be told, in- happiness he had lost by his fault, duced Corand to repair to the pa- no object of ambition could divert lace at the appointed time. He him from that care. " Ah !.Com was introduced under the auspices rand,” said she, now I truly of the bard; but on his own ac- find you love Atheta, who shall count was conducted into the ever prove herself worthy of your queen's apartment. She lay re- love.” Instantly they flew into clined on a couch, under the pre- each others embraces, and instanta text of being indisposed, and her ly the gloom of the apartment was illness seemed to grow upon her dispelled. Çorand saw about him at the sight of the prince. The the young priestesses of Isis that queen fetched a cry that brought served him in the Gaulish retreat. all her women about her. She The tears of Atheta flowed, but however recovered, and ordered they were no more the tears, of them to keep at a certain distance sorrow, the tears of distress ; they “Sir,” said she to Corand, “it were the tears of tenderness, the must appear extraordinary to be tears of joy : those delicious tears, thus presented by a sovereign, which the persuasion of an un, from whom perhaps you had doubted happiness inspires, and nothing to ask ; but I have at a happiness such as mutual love heart the good of this state, and a procures, defender, as you are, is not pur
Atheta then recounted to him chased at too high a rate by the that the chief druid dying, had step I have taken.”.
certified that she was really the Corand, less struck by this first-born of Vologeses's daughspeech than by the voice that pro- ters, whereupon the king, her nounced it, found himself incapa- father, had all diligent search ble of making a reply. The sound made after her, and testified at his of that voice pierced his soul; he death his approbation of Corand believed he heard Atheta, and not-as his son-in-law. Her sister was, withstanding the faint glimmer of in lieu of her, consigned over to light kept up in her apartment, he the care of the goddess Isis. believed he saw her ; but the resemblance his mind was prepos- For the Oxford Miscelluny. sessed with, started up anew to
Man's but a vapour, disconcert his ideas. His agita
And full of woes ; tions were besides too great to Just cuts a caper, perceive if the queen sympathised And down he goes." with him in his trouble, At length Among the variety of images which the learned and ingenious "Till July changes all our flowers and bave presented to our view, in
In August we mature, September droop, order to give us an idea of the
And melt on to decay and rotteuess. short duration and insignificancy of human life; I have met with Horace, and Virgil, among the none that have claimed my atten- ancient poets, as well as many of the tion more than what is contained Grecian philosophers furnish us in the lines I have chosen for my with quotations of this kind, which motto,
would far exceed the limits I ap· Doctor Young, in his tragedy prehend, you have prescribed to of Zanga, compares man, to "the a correspondent of your Publicasmallest part of nothing." There tion. I shall therefore con fine is surely nothing in this compari- myself to a few observations, son that can either strike the fancy, which occasionally occur to me or improve the mind, nor will it while thinking on this subject. stand the test of criticism ; truth Surely nothing could be more or reason. Pope seems to have likely to humble the pride and been much more happy than Doc-vanity of mankind, than a retrotor Young, when speaking on spect of their own insignificancy: mankind in general, he says, While viewing the vapours of the “ Like bubbles on the surface born,
earth, which, rarified by the beat They break and to their sea return." of the sun ; soon disappear, and
Pope seems to have been herein are no more, man should recollect, imitated by a learned moralist, that he therein beholds a just re wbo on the same subject, says, semblance of himself; and that “Of what more consequence to all the mighty exploits of his life, this world was the death of an his pursuit of fame, honours, Alexander, or a Cæsar, than a powers, and riches, are but as the single drop of water that falls caper of a stage dapçer, admired from a cloud into the bosóm of or laughed at by the spectators, the mighty ocean?". The author only a moment, and no more of the tragedy of Oliver Cromwell, thought of. The priests of the has extended his comparison of early ages endeavoured to raise life to a summer season ;
the self importance of mankind, This life's a summer season, and no by teaching them to look up to more;
the heavens, and behold the gloAn April shower begins our vegitation; rious luminary, the sun which In May, we bloom, and beautify the animates all nature with its friendly earth
beams, and the pale-faced silver With one of nature's greatest curio
moon, and the firinament bespan. In June we blow, and revel upon sun
gled with stars, which are only for shine,
the use of man, and, we are the
only beings in the universe.' Our
To the Editor of the Oxford Enter,., improvements in the sciences of
taining Miscellany, astronomy, and philosophy, how. ever, have now taught us to hum-ÀR. Editor, ble our pride a little, and with
If you have Pope confess
room to insert the following, you, “That man, who here seems principal will, by doing so, greatly oblige, Perhaps acts second to some sphere
Yours, &c. unknown.”
Were the longest life of man RETROSPECTION AND ASSOCIA.. one continued scene of happiness,
TION, and no worldly crosses ever hap- It was a gloomy day in the pened to disturb his repose and month of Autumn when I reached: tranquillity, yet the infirmities the village of.
Hin Norfolk, which old age brings with it, would the place of my birth, which I had be sufficient to convince him of left ten years back with different, his insignificancy, and, teach him feelings and under different ciran humiliating lesson on human cumstances to those with which b pride and vanity, I mean not now revisited it. I need not give however, to inculcate the doctrine, you an account of the countries that from a sense of our own in- had wandered over during that. significancy, we should pass this period, nor recount the dangers, narrow path of life with sorrow and troubles I encountered, all in, and despair, and strew it with search of happiness-a ,phantom, thorns, and briars, of our own which appeared more distant the seeking ; since it is already suf- faster I followed it. Suffice it to ficiently craggy, and unpleasant. say, that tired at length with a use, All I would contend for is this, less pursuit, dissatisfied with my.. that self pride should not teach self, and wearied with a world, us to think too much of ourselves, the pleasures of which I could or to look down with contempt on never find, I determined, any part of the creation. To love “my long vexations past, virtue, in whatever garb it may
Here to return, and die at home at
last." dressed,—to protect the helpless, who implore our assistance, -to of our birth, some feeling allied to
There is something in the place , do justice and to love
the scenes of our infancy, which the only means by which we can
not the allurements of the world, shew' our sensibility of our own nor any change of time or place can weakness and infirmity.
obliterate or deaden,--imaginaP. P. tion traces every bush, every path,