ORIGINAL COMMUNICATIONS.

THE GOLDEN MIRROR;

OR,

THE KINGS OF SHESHIAN :

A TRUE HISTORY, TRANSLATED FROM THE SHESHIANESE.
[Continued from Page 64.]

THE next evening, by command of the Sultan, Danishmende thus resumed his narrative:

locks, and your grey beard, added he, did not bear witness to your progress in the decline of life, one would take you for a man of forty. Explain to me, I pray, this mystery; what secret do you possess capable of working such a mi

"I can tell you my secret in three words, returned the old man, smiling,-work, amusement, and rest; each in small proportions, mingled in equal parts, and interchanged according to the suggestions of nature, work this miracle, as you choose to term it, in the most comprehensible manner possible. A not disagreeable weariness is the hint that nature gives us to interrupt our work for diversion; and a similar hint reminds us to rest from both. Work keeps up the taste for the pleasures of nature, and supplies the means of enjoying them; and he alone for whom her pure and blameless delights have lost all charms, is unhappy enough to seek a gratification in such as are artificial which they can never supply. Look at me, good stranger, how happy obedience to nature makes us; she rewards us with her choicest gifts; my whole life has been a long, rarely interrupted, chain of agreeable moments; for even labour, a labour proportionate to our powers, and not accompanied with any embittering circumstances, is connected with a kind of gentle pleasure, which sheds a benign influence over all our frame; but, for being happy by nature, it is necessary that we preserve the uncorrupt taste, that great

“All was in vain; nothing could procure the emir any rest; he tossed himself on every side in quest of sleep. Short intervals of uneasy slum-racle? ber only served to harass his imagination with frightful dreams; often in bitterness of heart did he curse his harem, his physicians, his cooks, and the young fops by whose example he had been led to adopt a soft luxurious life. He drew a comparison between himself, an old man of two-and-thirty, and the hoary headed youth of fourscore. He at last fell asleep; and on waking a few hours after, he almost thought all that had happened to him since his last sleep had been merely a dream, at least he did his utmost to suppress the recollection of the most disagreeable part of it; and, in hopes that new impressions would best contribute to that end, he threw open a window, which gave him a view of the garden, extending wide on the east side of the house. A pure air, impregnated with a thousand recreating odours dispelled the gloomy vapours still hovering in his brain; he felt himself refreshed; this sentiment now fanned a spark of hope within his breast, and with hope the love of life returned. As he was contemplating this garden, which he could not help admiring for its simplicity and usefulness, in spite of his vitiated and artificial taste, he perceived the old man, half covered with bushes, busying himself in the lighter employments of gardening,est of her benefits, and the instrument of all the of which the emir had never deigned to acquire one idea. The desire of obtaining a solution of all the surprising and marvellous scenes he had beheld in this house, prompted him to go down into the garden, in order to have some conversation with the old man. After thanking him for the obliging reception he had met with in his advanced age, he began to testify his amazement that a person of his advanced age should be still so upright, so active, so lively, and so capable of sharing in the pleasures of life; if your silver

rest; and for having right notions a right way of thinking is indispensably requisite.

"The old man looked full at his guest, and saw by his countenance that he understood but little of what he said. I shall be better understood by you perhaps, continued he, if I relate to you the history of our little colony; for in every other habitation, whither chance might have conducted you in these vallies, you would have found every thing pretty nearly like what you have seen in mine. The emir signified that he

should hear him with great pleasure. He had so much the appearance of fatigue, that the kind old man proposed to him to sit down on a sofa,|| in an arbour of the garden planted about with citrons; though to himself a walk among the trees would have been more agreeable.

"The emir willingly accepted this offer; and, while a beautiful young female slave presented them with the best coffee from Moca, the lively old man thus began his narrative:

manners, the artless wisdom of his discourse, the knowledge he possessed of numberless useful and agreeable matters, joined with an eloquence that insinuated itself into every mind with irresistible force, procured him by degrees a more unbounded authority than a monarch usually has over his native subjects. He found our little nation capable of being happy; and people, said he to himself, who for some centuries could content themselves with indispensible necessaries, deserve to be so; I will make them happy. He concealed his intentions for some time, wisely thinking that he must make the first impressions by his example. He settled among us; he lived in his house just as you have seen us live; he made our people acquainted with the accommodations and pleasures which could not fail to excite their desires; and scarcely was he aware that he had attained this end, when he set about his grand project. A friend who had accompanied him, and was master of all the fine arts to a high degree of perfection, assisted him in accelerating its accomplishment. Many of our youths, after receiving the necessary preparatives from them, worked, under their in

"We are told by an ancient tradition, that our progenitors were of Grecian descent; and by an accident, in the circumstances whereof you cannot at all be interested, were thrown, some centuries ago, into these mountains. They settled themselves in these pleasant vales, which nature seemed to have designed as a refuge for a few happy beings from the ill usage and pestilential manners of other mortals. Here they lived in a contented restriction to the narrow circle of the wants of nature, apparently so poor, that even the neighbouring Bedouins seemed to concern themselves but little about their existence. The greater part of the characters of their origin were gradually effaced by time; their language was lost in the Arabic; their religionspection, with an enthusiasm not to be described. degenerated into a few superstitious observances, for which they themselves could give no reason; and, of the arts which gave the Greek nation an inalienable superiority over all others, they retained only an affection for music, and a certain native propensity to elegance and to social pleasures, which furnished the basis whereon the wise legislators were able to erect their descendants Into a small state of happy persons. Desirous of perpetuating the beauty of forms among them, they made it a rule to admit into their society only the most beautiful of the daughters of the neighbouring yemen; and to this custom (which our lawgiver found worthy of having the sanction of an inviolable duty) it is doubtless to be ascribed, that in all our vales you will find no person, either of our sex or of the other, who would not pass for an extraordinary beauty on the other side of the mountains. In the time of my grandfather, the excellent man to whom we are indebted for our present constitution, the second and proper founder of our nation, by a series of accidents, came into these regions. We know nothing either of his origin, or of the particulars of his life previous to the period of his coming among us. At that time he seemed to be a man of about fifty; he was tall, of a majestic figure, and of such an engaging deportinent, that in a short time he won all hearts. He had brought so much gold with him that it was apparent to all that he had no other motive for living among us than because he was pleased with us. The gentleness and civility of his No. XV. lol. II.

Wild regions were cultivated, fine meads, gar-
dens, and orchards full of fruit trees were seen
flourishing in districts which till now had been
covered with briars and thistles; and rocks were,
shaded with newly planted vines. In the midst
of a gentle eminence, which commands the most
beautiful of our vallies, rose a circular temple,
open on all sides, in the centre of which nothing
was to be seen but an estrade about three steps
higher than the ground, whereon stood three
images of white marble; statues which could not
be beheld without love and gentle transports; a
hedge of myrtle, at some distance, surrounded
the temple, and covered the whole elevation.
This last work was a mystery to all our people,
and Psammis (so this wonderful stranger was
caHed) deferred giving them the solution of it
till he perceived that all the tender reverence they
felt for him was unable to restrain their impati-
ence. At length, on the morning of a fine day,
which ever since has been kept as the most sacred
of our festivals, he conducted a number of our
people, whom he had selected as the fittest for
his purpose, to the top of this little hill, seated
himself with them under the myrtle, and gave
them to understand, that he was come to then
with no other intention than to render them and
their posterity happy; that he expected no other
reward for it than the satisfaction of having ob
tained his end; and that he required no other
conditions from them than a solemn vow to keep
inviolably the laws that he should give them.
"It would be too prolix, continued the old

Q

man, to relate to you what he said for convincing || pleasure, and thus become a benefit; it will be

THE SPECTRE.

A TRUE STORY.

swered him with as much modesty as if she had not contributed essentially to his recovery, and with as much precision as if she had not quitted him a single instant. He was desirous of seeing her who was with so much complacence giving him the particulars he so eagerly sought to know. He drew back the curtain, and was greatly surprised at the sight of a charming female, ap

IN one of those rare societies which are interesting although little known, where one may still be amused without gaming, where one may converse with that liberty which forms the charm of cultivated minds, where no pretensions but those of pleasing are shown, and no eagerness except for the acquirement of instruction, the conversation happened to turn on real objects and fantastic visions. It was attempted to assignparently not above eighteen years of age, near their difference and determine their analogy; to find the relation which exists between a regular dream and a profound meditation, between an ardent contemplator, and a cold observer, between enthusiasm which depicts, and examination which demonstrates.

One of the company then advanced, that a strongly exalted imagination attested the existence of beings with as much energy as the senses could. He was contradicted, grew warm, and continued the dispute, when an Officer said, that he thought a single fact would throw more light on an opinion than a great number of arguments, and he offered to tell them one which would perhaps elucidate the matter. He added, that the fact happened to a Captain in his regiment, that he had himself witnessed it, and that all his comrades could certify its truth.

The company agreed to lend their attention. He promised to recite the story with the greatest fidelity, and begged indulgence for details which he could not omit, as well as for a few reflections which naturally arose from the subject; he then proceeded as follows:-

After a smart engagement, in Italy, during the last war, the wounded French officers were taken to the hospital at Milan. Darville was one of the number; his wounds left but slender hopes of saving his life; he was soon reduced to the last gasp, but the powerful aids of medicine, together with his youth and vigour, united to save him.

He had no sooner recovered his senses, which had been suspended above a month, sometimes with a violent delirium, at others by a lethargic sleep, than he asked numberless questions as to where he was, in what condition he had been, and about all those objects which are so interesting to a man who, as it were, begins to exist anew, who tries new sensations, and who enjoys that pleasure in existing, of which none but those who are recovered from dangerous maladies can have any idea.

The nun whom he was thus interrogating, an

his bed. In examining her with all the attention which she excited, he remarked eyes in which candour and benevolence shone; he surprised a look at once caressing and timid; he perceived one of those tender, ingenuous, and pensive physiognomies, which attracts more powerfully than beauty, and which inspires more interest; he admired a noble and elegant mien, enchanting natural graces, rendered more striking from the necessity of seeking them under a dress which irritated desire, whilst it indicated privations.

Darville, astonished to find such charms in the asylum of sickness, was much more so, after he had learned that this nun, whose name was Mary, had been his sole nurse during the whole of his long illness, that she employed the whole day in attending on him, that she watched him at night, and took only short slumbers, which never had caused any intermission in the care she had taken of him, with tender patience and admirable resolution, and that, in short, he owed his life to

her.

Born with one of those fervent constitutions which renders men so amiable and so unhappy, and which multiply their sufferings by extending their affections, Darville considered gratitude as an act of devotion, and all his sentiments became passions. He immediately abandoned himself to an excessive sensibility; he fancied he should always be able to conceal it from her who was its cause. He no longer dared to accept those services which she still so kindly and earnestly offered him; he said he wished to begin to discharge the immense debts which he had contracted; he would not suffer her to watch at night, but begged her to retire to her repose, as the only means of allowing him any rest. But in a short time he was unable to enjoy any; a passion too violent to be mistaken, invaded his heart. The regard due to the situation of Mary, the respect which her benefits deserved, the reserve which the innocence of her manners inspired, compelled him to silence as a duty, which, however, he never violated more than

whilst he thought himself strictly observing it; the flame raged with greater activity from the painful efforts which he made to concentrate it. He first perceived this effect by the sudden reserve of Mary.

Fearful then of losing every thing, he dared every thing; he risked the avowal which he had promised himself never to make; he expected a repulse, he received it, and was overwhelmed with despair. All the reasons which were given to make him conquer his love, only served to increase it; all the consolations presented to him became as many torments; all the amends which were offered appeared to him an increase of misery. His almost broken-hearted mistress was going to leave him, and to send one of her companions to supply her place: one of Darville's wounds broke out afresh, and she remained.

he condemned his desires, he determined to abstain from any expression; and as soon as his mistress appeared his resolves were all forgotten.

Mary, supported by real piety, by the remembrance of her vows, by a conduct hitherto irreproachable, surmounted for a long time the tenderness which she shared; but her triumph was succeeded by that arid kind of grief which sheds no tears, which loads with an immense pressure, which agitates without distracting; above all, it became impossible for her to bear the idea that she caused the misery of him for whom she would have sacrificed her life. This conviction, against which those who truly love cair find no defence, sealed her doom. She yielded; and the day which to her lover was the height of felicity, overwhelmed her with despair. From that moment she fancied she read her shame in every eye. Religious prejudices, of all the most tyran

She considered that love which had enslaved her, which had cost her so dearly, of which she had proved all the charms without tasting them, as the greatest of crimes.

Whilst she was fulfilling her most noble and useful duties, but the most melancholy and frightful of all those which religious societies could impose on their votaries, and of which be neficent humanity could make choice, the picture of death appearing incessantly before her eyes, froze her senses, increased her terrors, and left that tender and timid soul a prey to the mortal activity of remorse.

In the mean time our regiment arrived at Milan for the winter. I went every day to keepnical, filled her timorous conscience with fears. my friend company; I found Mary, and witnessed her care; sometimes she dressed the wound in my presence, and I perceived her shed a few tears which she vainly tried to retain and conceal. Darville did not speak to her, but his looks darted fire, and his silence was impassioned. An eloquence so powerful, so terrible a situation, so much reserve with so much love, the energy which characterizes a right sentiment, that cry of the soul which proves it, that persuasion which accompanies it, all were united against Mary; all conspired to infuse a devouring flame into her feeling heart. She discovered it with terror; she did not, however, fear to disclose the whole to him who had inspired it; knowing him to be generous, she thought her virtue would never be in danger, unless she were to render him responsible for it; she therefore ventured to intrust him with that sacred deposit; and he swore it should be respected.

He thought he should be able faithfully to keep an oath which nature disavowed, but he soon was sensible of his mistake; he could no longer contain his feelings. Mary reminded him of his promise; a few tender words from her whom he adored suspended his transports. How, said she, must my ruin be the price of my sensibility, and do you seek to disgrace her whom you love?

He fell at her feet, assured her of his repentance, renewed his protestations of respect, and experienced that the repulses of innocence are not always without sweets to an honest man who reveres the object of his love. When he reflected on the multiplied sacrifices made by an unfortunate woman who was to defend herself against the power of her lover and against her own weakness, wherein the so difficult victory was to be obtained by endless trouble and anxiety, he accused himself of being wanting in delicacy,

Mary could no longer resist afflictions which became daily more keen; so much love, so many troubles, regrets, desires, struggles, successive nights passed with her lover, shattered a feeble constitution. She was seized with an inflammatory fever; it was pronounced mortal, and rapidly led her to the grave.

Her lover, who had concealed his passion, was not able to dissemble his loss: his despair broke out in the most inauspicious manner; the first fit was terrible; with great difficulty a stop was put to its effects, a sullen gloominess of mind succeeded. He told us he should soon rejoin her who had carried off his life, he was not to be persuaded to take any food; he slept no longer.

Penetrated with his condition, we neglected nothing which might alleviate it; but our eagerness to relieve him irritated his sorrows. Dismayed at the inutility of our cares, we, in one of our conversations, spoke with a vivacity of which the motive could not displease hin. We gently reproached him with his want of friendship, we conjured him not to reject our entreaties; tears started in our eyes. Ile abruptly interrupted us, saying: "My friends your efforts are fruitless; it is not in the power of any one