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imitator of Shakspeare, on the length he recollected what Atheta
French boards; but Ducis repre- had told him of the great resem-
sented 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 sor-
possible for the public to mistake row. All he seemed surprised
then, and he proposed in his place at was, that his heart was as much
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 for-
composition. Under the name of merly at the king of East Britain's
Morel, he also caused two operas court, knew and accosted him.
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 re-
Gretry, 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 employ-
ble, and without effect.

CORAND AND ATHETA.

An ancient British Novel.

(Continued from page 262.)

ment was to sing the actions of great men. They passed frequently from district to district, and never failed resorting to court. This bard was come to try his fortune at that of the new queen, and was surprised that Corand The day after his arrival, the did not appear there in a splenqueen, shewed herself in public, dour 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 her 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

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this melancholy, and the respect had been robbed of his Atheta.—

He adopted such moving words, that the whole assembly was deep

due to her does not permit any one so much as to hint at what she would have buried in silence.-ly affected by them, and the queen "Yet," pursued he, "I hope, let drop some tears. It even ap

with the help of my art, to clear up your doubts, and perhaps to mitigate the queen's extreme uneasiness."

peared to the bard, that she used violence against herself to refrain shewing further marks of perturbation.

She detained bin when he made a motion for taking leave, and stepping aside with him, "You "that you must own," said she, have been representing a child of your own fancy, an object that has no other being but in your song."

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. Two days after the bard presented himself to the queen, and she was pleased to give him a hearing, which was all he wanted and wished for. He promised her songs which had never yet been heard by any one, a promise which 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, madam," answered he, vived the idea of the precious mo"but I think he has lived in it ment, when subdued by his pri- but a short time.” What!" resoner, 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 song; and this was in express-offered to him." To this invitaing Corand's grief ever since he tion, she added, that there should

his

66

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be for him the next day a private [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! Cowas 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 instanttext of being indisposed, and her ly the gloom of the apartment was illness seemed to grow upon her dispelled. Corand 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 unfrom 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 purchased at too high a rate by the step I have taken.”

Atheta then recounted to him that the chief druid dying, had certified that she was really the first-born of Vologeses's daugh

father, had all diligent search made after her, and testified at his death his approbation of Corand as his son-in-law. Her sister was, in lieu of her, consigned over to the care of the goddess Isis.

Corand, less struck by this speech than by the voice that pro-ters, whereupon the king, her nounced it, found himself incapable of making a reply. The sound of that voice pierced his soul; he believed he heard Atheta, and notwithstanding the faint glimmer of light kept up in her apartment, he believed he saw her; but the resemblance his mind was prepossessed with, started up anew to disconcert his ideas. His agitations were besides too great to perceive if the queen sympathised with him in his trouble. At length

For the Oxford Miscellany.

"Man's but a vapour,
And full of woes;
Just cuts a caper,

And down he goes."
Among the variety of images

which the learned and ingenious "Till July changes all our flowers and

have presented to our view, in order to give us an idea of the short duration and insignificancy of human life; I have met with none that have claimed my attention more than what is contained in the lines I have chosen for my

motto.

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Doctor Young, in his tragedy prehend, you have prescribed to of Zanga, compares man, to "the a correspondent of your Publicasmallest part of nothing." Theretion. I shall therefore confine 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 Doctor Young, when speaking on mankind in general, he says,

"Like bubbles on the surface born, They break and to their sea return.”

Pope seems to have been herein imitated by a learned moralist, who on the same subject, says, "Of what more consequence to this world was the death of an Alexander, or a Cæsar, than a single drop of water that falls from a cloud into the bosom of the mighty ocean?" The author of the tragedy of Oliver Cromwell, has extended his comparison of life to a summer season:

vanity of mankind, than a retrospect of their own insignificancy: While viewing the vapours of the earth, which, rarified by the heat of the sun; soon disappear, and are no more, man should recollect that he therein beholds a just resemblance of himself; and that all the mighty exploits of his life, his pursuit of fame, honours, powers, and riches, are but as the caper of a stage dancer, admired or laughed at by the spectators, only for a moment, and no more thought of. The priests of the early ages endeavoured to raise the self importance of mankind,

This life's a summer season, and no by teaching them to look up to

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the heavens, and behold the glorious luminary, the sun which animates all nature with its friendly beams, and the pale-faced silver moon, and the firmament bespan. gled with stars, which are only for the use of man, and, we are the

only beings in the universe. Our improvements in the sciences of astronomy, and philosophy, however, have now taught us to humble our pride a little, and with Pope confess

To the Editor of the Oxford Enter, taining Miscellany,

MR. EDITOR,

If you have

room to insert the following, you

"That man, who here seems principal will, by doing so, greatly oblige,

alone;

Perhaps acts second to some sphere

unknown."

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Yours, &c.

N.

TION,

It was a gloomy day in the month of Autumn when I reached: the village of Hin Norfolk,

Were the longest life of man RETROSPECTION AND ASSOCIA, one continued scene of happiness, and no worldly crosses ever happened to disturb his repose and tranquillity, yet the infirmities which old age brings with it, would the place of my birth, which I had be sufficient to convince him of his insignificancy, and, teach him an humiliating lesson on human pride and vanity, I mean not however, to inculcate the doctrine, that from a sense of our own insignificancy, we should pass this narrow path of life with sorrow and despair, and strew it with thorns, and briars, of our own seeking; since it is already sufficiently craggy, and unpleasant. All I would contend for is this, that self pride should not teach us to think too much of ourselves, or to look down with contempt on any part of the creation. To love virtue, in whatever garb it may be dressed, to protect the helpless, who implore our assistance,-to do justice and to love mercy, are the only means by which we can shew our sensibility of our own weakness and inârmity.

left ten years back with different feelings and under different cir-. cumstances to those with which I now revisited it. I need not give you an account of the countries I had wandered over during that period, nor recount the dangers and troubles I encountered, all in, search of happiness-a phantom, which appeared more distant the faster I followed it. Suffice it to say, that tired at length with a use-› less pursuit, dissatisfied with my-1/ self, and wearied with a world, the pleasures of which I could never find, I determined,

P. P.

"my long vexations past, Here to return, and die at home at last.-"

There is something in the place of our birth, some feeling allied to the scenes of our infancy, which not the allurements of the world, nor any change of time or place can obliterate or deaden,-imagina-" tion traces every bush, every path,

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