THE REPRESENTATIONS OF LIFE, CONTAINED IN WORKS OF FICTION: NOT TO BE CONSIDERED AS HAVING ANY EXISTENCE IN NATURE. [Continued from Page 71] "WHAT I am now going to add," continued M. de Palaise, "is equally applicable to both sexes. We had been remarking the universal prevalence and irresistible power of curiosity, and the importance which trifles acquire when valuable subjects of investigation are wanting. You must have observed, that even in large cities, society is formed into different circles, which, like country villages, have their particular topics of conversation. The trifling incidents which happen among them excite the spirit of inquiry for a moment, and furnish tempor ry subjects of discussion. These, however, are soon forgotten amidst the multiplicity of occurrences which are of a more important nature, and more forcibly attract the public attention. In a large and crowded inetropolis, a variety of interesting objects and incidents successfully excite and gratify curiosity, give expansion to the mind, and animation to the discourse. "In small places the case is different; where society is on a more contracted scale, and the sphere of observation confined within narrower limits, a paucity of ideas must be expected Where the subjects of observation and reflection are few and trivial, the topics of discourse are the same. - The general attention is eagerly turned to insignificant objects; the mind is engaged in frivolous inquiries, and satisfied with unimportant information. It may always be observed, that when the mind is accustomed to amuse itself with trifles, and to confine its researches and reflections within a contracted circle, it seldom directs its attention or inquiries to things which are of greater importance, but placed at a greater distance from the usual but narrow range of its observations. In such a state of intellectual sterility, trifles become interesting; and the occurrences in a neighbour's family, or the petty transactions of the village, engage attention, and excite the spirit of scrutiny as much as the revolutions of empires." "But," said Madame de Clairville, "is there no remedy for this almost universal evil, which, like a pestilential contagion, scarcely affords any exception from the virulence of its attacks?-Can neither the precepts of religion, nor the dictates of philanthropy, check that malignity which delights in wounding the reputation of every one who comes within the reach of its infected breath, which aggravates criminality by the addition of ficticious circumstances, or supposes its existence although destitute of proof>" "The means which you appear to think adapted to this desirable end," returned M. de Palaise," are certainly those which alone can prove effectual. From the observations already made, you will, however, perceive that there are other means of a subordinate nature, the use of which might be extremely conducive to the eradication of this moral contagion, which makes such havoc in society. The love of scandal always prevails in the circles of ignorance and frivolity, and diminishes in proportion to the cultivation of the intellect. To extinguish this spirit of malignity, it is, therefore, necessary to cultivate a taste for reading, in order to furnish the mind with a variety of ideas, and multiply the means of acquiring useful information, which would supply a fund of entertainment more congenial to its sublime nature, and more interesting than that of hearing and relating the anecdotes of human depravity. In spite of the benevolent spirit of Christianity, and the fulminations of its preachers, the demon of destruction still rears its head in almost every neighbourhood, and will never be banished from society while active curiosity is united to sterility of intellect. Topics of discourse must be found, and the want of useful knowledge will generally be supplied by the reports of scandal, and the tattle of the day. "From almost every circumstance of life, however," continued M. de Palaise, "a wellorganised mind will imbibe instruction, and even from the malignant activity of scandal some advantages may be derived. It ought to put every one, young persons especially, upon their guard against every thing in their deportment that can have the slightest appearance of a deviation from the path of moral rectitude, or be susceptible of an unfavourable construction. If, however, after all, they find themselves injured by unjust de. famation, for detraction is not restrained by the boundaries of truth, but often attacks the most virtuous characters, conscious innocence will produce tranquillity of mind, and repel the darts of benevolence." The young Clairvilles were extremely pleased with this dissertation; and promised to remember the important lesson which formed its conclusion. They now began to consider that they had now made all the observations they could possibly make in their present situation, and thought it unnecessary to prolong their stay for the sake of making such as could no longer be new of interesting, or of viewing conditions of life, or modes of society, similar to those which they had already sufficiently contemplated, and with which they were heartily disgusted. They were weary with repeated disappointments, and surprized to find the pleasures of rural occupations, and the charms of rural society, fall so far short of the picture exhibited by poets and moralists, who had contemplated life in idea, not as it exists in reality, and described its scenery from conjecture, and not from experience. They now began to neglect the society which the place of their residence afforded, and amused themselves chiefly in perambulating the fields, making daily excursions into the circumjacent country, and conversing indiscriminately as occasion offered, with persons of every description. The beautiful appearance, however, of the hills and vallies, of the fields covered with waving crops, the meadows enamelled with flowers, and the pastures peopled with herds of cattle and flocks of sheep, presented rich and variegated scenes, which, for some time, amused the perambulators, and compensated the disappointments and dissatisfactions which they experienced in social intercourse. In process of time, however, those rural objects, in losing their novelty, began to lose their charms. The variegated landscapes, which for a while offered to the eye a constant succession of fascinating views, began to appear less beautiful; the contemplation of fields and meadows, of lowing herds and bleating flocks, gave less delight; their perambulations became less frequent, and to enjoy the pleasures of novelty and variety, it was necessary to make more distant excursions. As their eyes now began to be weary of the constant recurrence of the same objects, their minds began to flag through the dull uniformity of the scene, and the want of enlivening society, and varied conversation They resolved, therefore, with unanimous consent, to return immediately to the metropolis. As they travelled without any equipage, the arrangements for their departure were soon made; and after having taken a friendly leave of their neighbours, whom they left busily employed in scrutinizing their reasons for making so short a stay, they commenced their journey. On the third afternoon of it, they entered a district which appeared to them a celestial paradise. The incessant alternation of hill and dale, lawns and groves, diversified the scene with indescribable beauty, and endless variety; and the different appearance of the arrangement of objects from every new position as they passed along the road, displayed, from every point of view, a prospect equally novel and delightful. In these desultory rambles they found an indescribable pleasure in contemplating the beauties of nature, and the magnificent display of her diversified scenery, her prolific opulence, and variegated luxuriance; but on every occasion of conversing with the peasants, of whatever degree they might be, they found that solicitude, care, and anxiety prevailed in their minds; unless when forcibly dispelled, by incessant labour, which left no room for thought; or smothered by stupid ignorance, which extinguished the powers of reflection. The rich variety of productions with which the face of the country was covered, afforded its occupiers no other pleasure than that of calculating how much money the Nearly in the centre of this enchanting spot, crops might produce, and how far that sum would stood a commodious inn; and although it was enable them to answer the demands of the landlord, the expences of cultivation, the payment of early in the afternoon when they reached it, the parish rates, and the urgent wants of their fami- amenity of the place determined them to remain lies. The minds of the labouring part of the all night. They had no sooner alighted and peasantry were engrossed solely with the hopes of taken some refreshment, than they all set out on a ramble into the adjacent grounds, and wandered a diminution in the price of grain, or the fear of from field to field, and from hill to hill, at every its advancement, and their thoughts absorbed in step discovering new beauties; and surprized, on calculating whether they should be able, out of the wages of their summer's labour, to spare ascending each eminence, with the sudden burst of the most delightful prospects, and the view of enough from the expences of daily subsistence to purchase a little coal for the winter season, and opening landscapes, equally fascinating and una little coarse cloathing to screen themselves and expected. The harvest waving on the ground, their children from the severity of the weather.promised the most luxuriant abundance; the The young strangers could no where discover any appearance of that life of philosophy, contemplation, and mental serenity, which they had once expected to find in the midst of rural scenery, and agricultural occupations. charming serenity of the air breathed health, and every thing around indicated the sweets of tranquillity, and the exuberance of plenty. "Per The young people were enchanted. haps," exclaimed young Clairville, we have here found the place where happiness resides, and the fascinating description, and brilliant ideas of the pastoral poets are realised." "This place," replied his sister, "affords, at least a more flattering prospect than any we have yet visited; and it is possible that what we have missed in our search is fallen in our way through accident; at least, it is expedient to decide the point by accurate investigation. Let us, then, remain here a few weeks." The elder Clairvilles readily came into this proposal; but in order to avoid the bustle and inconvenience of an inn, they hired a small apartment in a farm house, situated in a hamlet, consisting only of two farms and five or six cottages. The hamlet was situated on an eminence, in the midst of beautiful fields, and surrounded at no great distance with gently swelling hills. The landscape, on every side, was variegated with the most beautiful scenery; the clumps of trees, interspersed among the meadows, and fields of corn, adorned the face of the country, and afforded shelter to numbers of feathered songsters, whose undulating notes seemed to render the air musical, while roses, violets, and jasmines perfumed it with fragrancy. Every thing that was pleasing seemed here to be collected, and every thing that was disagrecable to be excluded; as if nature had formed, and choice selected, this situation for the abode of tranquillity, contentment, and happiness. The house, of which they occupied a part, was old, very ill contrived, and inconvenient; and although their apartments were by far the best part of the edifice, they were neither commodious nor agreeable. "I wonder," said Mademoiselle de Clairville to the mistress," that you have not a better house in so fine a situation." bourers' wages, and a variety of other demands, and felt the anxiety of mind which I and my husband often experience, from the difficulty of raising money for these purposes, you would easily perceive that we had better be content with our old house, even if it was worse, than to have a new one upon such conditions." "But," said Mademoiselle de Clairville, "I should think that so comfortable a house, in so charming a situation, might be a considerable addition to your happiness, and fully compensate the paying a little more rent." A "You may think so," said the good woman, "but if you had our cards to play you would be of a different opinion. The situation is agrecable enough, but folks in our circumstances think little about such things: we have concerns of greater importance to employ our thoughts. good house would certainly be a conveniency; but our first care must be for a livelihood. You fine folks at London don't know how we country folks are put to it to get a living. Such as you may admire a fine situation; but such as us have something else to think of than such trifles. As soon as one payment is made, we must begin to consider how money is to be procured for another. If you were in our circumstances, you would think as we do, that every situation is a fine one where a livelihood is to be gotten." They had many other conversations on similar subjects; and Mademoiselle de Clairville was soon convinced that they should here meet with the same disappointment as they had done in other places; and, notwithstanding the beauty of the country, and the amenity of the situation, they should not find a realization of their ideas of rural felicity. In effect, the strangers seldom heard, during their residence in this house, any other discourse in the family than scolding the servants for doing too little work, or for doing it the master and mistress frequently asking them, how they thought their wages were to be paid, and if they expected to be kept for doing nothing? and the servants, in their turn, as loudly complaining against the hardness of their labour, and the poorness of their living. ill; The Clairvilles soon began to enter into familiarity with the cottagers; and, by making trifling presents to them and their children, gained their entire confidence. They made frequent inquiries concerning their circumstances and condition of life, and found them far from being desirable, and the people far from being sa tisfied. (To be continued.) S BLIOMBERIS. BLIOMBERIS had begun another stanza of his lay, when he saw a knight approaching, who had no sooner perceived our hero, than he leaped from his horse and embraced him. Bliomberis raised his eyes, and recognized Lionel. "I was on my way to the French court," said he, "I have a letter for you from the noble Palamede." "O Heavens !" exclaimed Bliomberis, " you have then seen him." "I have," replied Lionel, "he came to Gannes, thinking to find his beloved Arlinda: in despair at her loss, he defied the king, my father, and the first blow of Palamede's lance put a period to his existence. I wished to avenge my parent, but was vanquished; and Palamede obliged me to promise that I would deliver this letter into your own hands." Palamede told his son, that he had been for near twenty years kept a prisoner by the king of Aquitaine, and thus excused himself for having so long forsaken his unhappy mother. He assured him of the warmth of his affection, and ordered him to come immediately and join him at the court of king Arthur. Bliomberis, impatient to see his father, took leave of Lionel, reached the first sea-port, and embarked for England. On arriving in this kingdom, he took the road leading to the capital. As he was traversing an extensive forest, he perceived a knight who was pursuing a lady, who appeared to exert every effort to avoid him, but who was nearly within his grasp. Bliomberis hastened forward, and seizing the reins of his horse, cried, "Stop, whoever thou art? the terrors of this lady informs me that thou art committing an outrage, and wherever I am, the weakest shall find a defender."" What right hast thou to interfere?" replied the savage Brehus; "I will punish thy temerity, and teach thee not to trouble knights when they are pursuing their fugitives." With these words Brehus raised his lance to strike Bliomberis; but the latter parried the blow, and with his sword reached his adversary's head, and with the violence of the shock made him bow on the neck of his steed. Furious to have been struck without having even touched our hero, Brehus threw away his lance, took his sabre with both hands, and raising himself in his stirrups, returned on Bliomberis, blaspheining the names of his titular gods. Bliomberis, who only invoked Felicia, perceived that by this action the under part of his enemy's arm was uncovered, and immediately plunged his sword in the part up to the hilt. Brehus gave a horrid scream, fell to the ground, and biting the dust, expired. A knight, clothed in shining mail, now approached, followed by the lady Bliomberis had so nobly defended; his lance was already couched, and his visor lowered; but seeing Brehus on the ground, he dismounted to thank Bliomberis. "This wretch you have just killed," said the lady, "endeavoured to insult me, because I was alone, my knight having quitted me for a moment to stop before the steps of the great Merlin. As soon as your combat commenced I ran to him, and that little time sufficed to deliver England of a villain unworthy of the appellation of a knight. He who stands beside me is Percival of Wales; I am his beloved Blanchefleur, and we shall never forget what we owe your valour." Bliomberis, delighted with the acquaintance of so illustrious a knight as Percival, entreated him to become his guide to king Arthur's court. "I shall not easily quit you," said the Cambrian; you have this day acquired an eternal right over my heart." The two new friends embraced, and then recommenced their route. During their way, Bliomberis imparted the motive of his journey to Percival, and asked him news of Palamede, but the latter could not satisfy him he had often heard of this hero, but had never seen him. He resolved to seek him with Bliomberis, who related to him every event of his life. The brave Cambrian increased in affection towards him, swore to be his brother in arms, and promised when the two years were expired to accompany him to France, in order to relate his atchievements to Pharamond. Blandefleur, who possessed much sensibility, and who took great interest in the affairs of all lovers, wished much to become acquainted with Felicia. "Why is she not here" exclaimed she: "" we would travel all four together; and, that the journey might not end too soon, we would walk from one end of the world to the other." While she was repeating these words, they observed a knight galloping furiously towards them; his armour, covered with dust, no longer glittered in the sun; the sides of his weary horse were torn with the spur, and it appeared to be near falling to the earth with fatigue. The im As Patient knight only spurned it the more. soon as he reached Bliomberis, he exclaimed, "Hasten to dismount, and exchange your courser for mine; I am in a great hurry, do not make me wait." Bliomberis and Percival smiling, looked at each other. The unknown, irritated, cried in a menacing voice, "If my words are ineffectual, my lance will be more ef ficacious; prepare to defend yourselves, and one after the other attack me, or both together, if you please." The proud Percival, sword in hand, would have immediately chastised the rash aggressor, but Bliomberis maintained that the quarrel was his, and quickly couching his lance, galloped up to the unknown, and struck him with such violence, that both knight and horse fell, and rolled for the space of twenty yards in the dust. Our hero, as humane as brave, rushed to his assistance; but the fall had been so violent, that the unknown remained without motion. Bliomberis took off his helmet to give him air, seated him on the grass, and felt an irresistible || interest in his recovery, which he was totally at a loss to define. Blanchefleur seconded him in the attentions he bestowed on the vanquished knight, while the haughty Percival, who had not yet pardoned his temerity, declared he experienced nothing more than he deserved. Bliomberis, incited by a supernatural power, was using every effort to recover the vanquished knight, when a letter fell from beneath his armour, the superscription of which was, "To Prince Clodion."-Scarcely had he read these words, wheh, detesting the victory he had gained, he would no more be separated from the brother of his beloved Felicia: he ran and fetched water in his helmet, and, assisted by Blanchefleur and Percival, at last succeeded in recovering the sorrowful Clodion. He, scarcely returned to life, said, in a melancholy voice, "Alas! this unfortunate adventure has made me miss a rendezvous."-"Ah! Prince," exclaimed Bliombe ris, at a tournament, the prize of which I disdained, because my adversaries seemed unworthy to combat with me. "Seated among the ladies, who were witnessing the joust, I waited till one of the combatants should vanquish all the rest, that I might, with one blow of my lance, rob him of his glory and his laurels; but love also awaited me, and I was conquered without engaging. tion. "The beauty of a young lady, called Celina, attracted my looks. I approached her-I spoke to her and her mildness, her grace, and her modest demeanour, completely won my affecDuring the three days which the tournament lasted, I was constantly by her side; and I have no hesitation to declare to you, that after the second day, a mutual flame burned in our breasts. "Celina soon instructed me respecting her birth and expectations:- I am,' she said, ' the daughter of the late Earl of Suffolk; I had the misfortune to lose both my parents in my infancy; I am the sole heir to all their estates, and the law has given me for guardian a distant cousin, who pretends to make me his wife.This man, whom I detest, is named Brunor; that is he who is just now entering the lists. He drags me every where with him; and tomorrow I shall be compelled to return with him to his horrid castle, where I am condemned to pass my days with Brunor, and one of his friends called Danain, who never leaves him, and is equally unamiable.' "This recital gave me the desire of immedidiately depriving Brunor of the fair Celina. I instantly meditated the project of gaining admittance into the friend's castle. I entered the lists, and defied the ferocious Brunor. Scarcely did I feel the touch of his lance, yet I let myself fall upon my horse, pretended to have fainted from the force of his blow, and slowly recovering the use of my senses :-"Sir knight,” said I, in expiring accents, "I need help, I am a stranger, and am not known by any one in this kingdom; your courage assures me of your courtesy, and is to my conqueror that I address myself, to entreat him to preserve my days." Brunor, proud of his victory, and of the confidence I placed in him, with dignity re-assured me, and consulting his friend Danain, they both agreed that they could not do otherwise than cause me to be carried to the castle, and there await my recovery. you are supported by one of the most ardent of your friends: I am ready to undertake every thing to repair the injury I have unknow-it ingly done you." Clodion thanked him; and Blanchefleut inquired what could have induced him to attack two knights from whom he had received no provocation? Clodion turned towards her, and forgot his sufferings to look at her. "I trust my imprudence," said he, "will, in your opinion, admit of some excuse, when you know that love was the cause. Deign to hear my adventures, and my misfortunes will interest you." The handsome Prince then, with some embarrassment, in a weak voice, begun thus his relation: "I was immediately placed on a litter; the warmest attentions were lavished upon me, and Brunor, Danain, and Celina were my escorts to the castle. During our route, my eyes were almost incessantly turned on Celina; and when I perceived those of Brunor on me, I uttered "About three months ago I happened to be piercing shrieks, complaining of my bruises. |
