The

stowing a blessing upon his daughter, who knelt at his feet. resemblances were perfect. All anger had disappeared from the face of the father, and each feature displayed the deepest love for his child; while that of Ianthe bore an expression of contrition for her error, blended with her joy.

It was now the day before the games. The picture was finished, and despatched to the house of the merchant. It was returned with a cold message of disapprobation.

'Euphranor,' said the slave, 'would have Parrhasius essay his his skill once more. He has exhibited, he says, some invention, but less power of delineation.'

Go,' replied Parrhasius, ' tell your master' He was interrupted by a sob from the adjoining chamber. Begone! - rejoice at your successful villany!' So saying, he strode from the apartment.

Glasiano listened until he heard his step grow faint in the distance ; then seizing the painting which Parrhasius was to present at the games on the morrow, he hastily unrolled, marked and disfigured it with some dark colors that lay on a pallet by the easel. He then carefully replaced the canvass, and with a savage and triumphant joy gleaming on his countenance, departed.

That evening Parrhasius and Ianthe stood gazing from the low and narrow window of their dwelling upon the world without. As each successive hope and project failed, their hearts drew nearer to each other, and were knit to firmer union.

Dear Ianthe,' said Parrhasius, 'one only hope remains: but the Athenians will be just.'

'Yes,' returned lanthe, as she drew nearer to his side, 'yes, I know, I feel you will succeed.'

You speak confidently,' said Parrhasius; but sorrow and misfortune should teach us to expect little where we might hope for much.'

Ianthe gazed upon the countenance of her husband. The impress of a high and noble purpose could be traced in the flashing and dilated eye, and in the proud and haughty bearing; but yet the face wore its accustomed expression of unchangeable affection.

'Do you remember,' she said, (and her voice sank into a whisper as she spoke,) 'the dream you once told me? That same night I, too, dreama dream. The mysterious and shadowy events of the future were revealed to me, and I breathed the air of a world to come. The seeds of many years sprang up, and I beheld, and lo! your name had gone forth; your fame was before the nations; you were blest and happy.'

And you' said Parrhasius, interested in spite of himself at the earnestness of Ianthe, and you ?

'I too was happy,' she continued-but my abode was in Elysium; and the thousand beautiful forms of the blessed were around me. The plants and the flowers breathed a holy perfume, and wore an eternal bloom: the air was music; while in the midst was a lofty throne of precious gems of pearl, of sapphire, and of emerald, and on it was engraved in characters of light, 'Be happy! But I sought other joys. I revisited the world; and with ever-waking watchfulness, in the cares of the day, and in the vigils of the night, I stood by your side — and I too was happy.'

Parrhasius answered not. A chill foreboding crept over his heart.

The streets exhibited a grotesque appearance of bustle and confusion: the old and the young -the high born noble and the busy merchant the slave and the master-the rich in purple robes of Syrian dye- and the poor with their coarse but cleanly garments — the citi zen and artist all were thronging onward to one general scene of amusement and festivity.

It was a noble dome in which they assembled. The gilded roof was supported by a vast colonnade of pillars of the purest marble from the isle of Paros; the walls were decorated with paintings, executed by the most esteemed masters; and the whole scene was one of indescribable splendor. The lower tier of seats was occupied by the officers of the city-the magistrates, the senators, and the more wealthy citizens-while those behind were appropriated to the poorer and meaner classes. They were filled to overflowing.

Among the last of those who sought the place of exhibition was the merchant, Euphranor.

'Look well upon him!' he muttered in the ear of his slave; 'mark each change of countenance.' Glasiâno made no reply, save by a grim smile. They sought their seats.

There was a dead, unbroken silence in the hall.

Parrhasius stood in

the midst of a thousand breathing forms, and a throng of hopes, fears, and recollections crowded thick upon his mind. He had just parted from Ianthe; he had felt her form thrill with agitation upon his breast, as she bade him adieu; and her tremulous voice, praying for his success, was still in his ear. Was he to return to her the victor, or the vanquished? To them, it was life or death!

The heralds now called upon the agonistes to present their paintings. One by one they advanced. Parrhasius saw each form as it moved on, and heard the low buzz of approbation, as each successive picture was exposed to view. It was a moment of dreadful suspense. Hope, life, reputation—all were concentered in this one chance. He was the last summoned. As his name was pronounced, he moved onward. A thousand eyes were riveted upon him, yet he heeded them not. He presented his painting to the judges. They paused for a moment; the picture was slowly unrolled, and an expression of wonder and amazement gradually gathered upon their features. It was turned to the spectators; not a voice uttered an approval. Parrhasius felt his heart stand still, and his brain reel. He grasped the pillar against which he leaned for support, and gasped for breath. At that instant, a burst of savage laughter came upon his ear. He knew the voice; and the tones of its bitter mockery re-strung his nerves. He sprang forward, as the judges dropped the picture on the ground: he seized it, tore open the folds, and discovered the huge blots on its surface. The truth flashed instantaneously upon his mind. He turned calmly to the judges, and pointed to the black and grained-spots' upon the picture. It is the work of an enemy,' said he; grant me permission, noble judges, to supply its place with another. They hesitated, consulted for a moment together, and granted his request.

Again Parrhasius stood and beheld his picture slowly exposed to view; and again he felt the blood rush coldly to his heart, with the intensity

VOL. VII.

63

of his emotions. Before his breath should be twice drawn, a sentence was to go forth of unutterable joy or misery.

The painting which was now unrolled was the one which Parrhasius had wrought for Euphranor, the merchant. Once more he turned his anxious gaze upon the judges. A gleam of satisfaction and high approbation was visible in the countenance of each. It was held up to the multitude. A reiterated, rapturous shout rang through the hall. A solemn silence for a moment ensued, and Parrhasius heard himself proclaimed victor!

In all the vast assemblage now collected to witness the contest, two persons only had not followed with eager interest the fortunes of the young artist. These two were Euphranor and his slave. Both had, with boisterous and ill-suppressed joy, beheld the prostration of his hopes, in the failure of his first attempt, and now, by a revulsion of feeling, proportionably depreciated his triumph. The merchant, when he heard the prize adjudged to Parrhasius, and saw him succeed by the very means he had planned for his destruction, in a tumult of passion made his way hastily through the opposing crowd, and passed to his home.

Fool!' he shouted in the ear of his slave, through you he has escaped me!' and he gnashed his teeth in impotent rage: but youyou, he continued, in a voice of thunder, shall be the victim !

The

He made a signal, and several attendants rushed into the apartment. He pointed to the cowering form of Glasiano, and bade them seize him, and making a sign for them to follow, strode from the hall, into a spacious garden contiguous to the mansion. The path which he took conducted to a vast reservoir, surrounded by a high marble wall. They gained the ascent by a winding stair-case cut out of the solid stone. Far down lay the deep water, on whose surface was extended a monster of the ocean, which had been transported thither, as a rarity suited to the great wealth of the merchant. Euphranor gazed with a savage smile upon the terror-stricken countenance of the slave, and then upon the dread serpent that lay coiled below. Glasiano shrieked for mercy. merchant heard him with a hollow laugh. He made a sign to his slaves. Glasiâno knew a horrid fate awaited him, and with this certainty came a deep longing for vengeance. He struggled no longer: they raised him slowly to his feet, when with a sudden effort he released himself from their grasp, and rushed upon Euphranor. He seized him around the body, and dragging him to the brink, master and slave fell together into the abyss below, and the foaming waters closed over them. At length the two forms arose the slave still clinging to his master with a grasp of undying hatred. Desperately did the merchant struggle! Once- but once his face turned to view, each lineament graven with terror. The glossy neck and quivering tongue of the serpent-the gloating and wan eye, like an expiring flame - and the circle of blood which rested upon the water, told the awful fate of the victims.

PARRHASIUS Sought his home. He had just escaped from the congratulations and importunities of the multitude, who were now as ready and solicitous to employ his skill as they were a few hours before to discourage and slight him. He hurried onward: a high and sure fortune

awaited him. And Ianthe! - she was to share his success. Oh! the unalloyed, the rapturous joy of that thought! His pace grew quicker: he had already passed the wicket which led to his low habitation — and now he reaches the door. Strange that she meets him not there! On he rushed, shouting his glad tidings. No voice responded to his own. He gained her chamber; her form reposed by an opposite window. Again he spake, and again his voice came in an echo from the low and empty walls. He stood by her side. The hands were lightly closed, the head partly raised, while a calm smile rested on the motionless features. Was it slumber? He listened for her breathings. There was no sound! Ianthe slept the sleep that could know no waking save at the summons of the last trump. What to him now were honor ambition fame-life!

YEARS passed. It was Spring. A number of Athenians had collected around the door of an elegant but unostentatious dwelling-house. By their gestures, and the frequent glances which they directed toward it, they appeared deeply interested in the fate of its inmate. They conversed among themselves for a time, until a young man, richly dressed, broke from the circle, and pressed toward the door of the habitation. He was met by an old and gray-headed menial.

'How fares Parrhasius?" whispered the young Athenian.

The slave, with a melancholy shake of the head, pointed to a door which led to the room beyond. The stranger passed with a noiseless step across the corridor, and entered the apartment. It was the studio of the artist, and was hung around with many of the choicest gems of art. A form was reclining upon a low stool in the centre of the room; the head rested upon one hand, and the eye appeared riveted upon a picture that was extended before it. The young Athenian gazed upon the countenance. Parrhasius was before him! The eyes were half closed; the lips compressed the whole face pale and soulless the wanness and torpor of death had dimmed each feature. One hand still grasped that painting the picture of the merchant and his child. The last fond gaze of the dying artist had rested upon that one loved form, until his spirit, released by a welcome messenger, rejoined the loved and lost, in a world that knows neither change nor sorrow.

B.

THE day was well nigh o'er,

The sun, near the horizon, dimly shone;
And the long shadows of the door-yard trees,
Athwart the yard were thrown.

Before our humble door,
Upon the soft, cool grass,

With bosom open to the evening breeze
Which now and then did pass,

Musing, and dreaming of the spirit's birth,
And its relations to this beautiful earth,
I lay alone-

Borne on Imagination's airy pinions,

Far from the world's turmoil, and sordid man's dominions.

And delicate fingers plucked the leaves aloft,
And whirl'd them round and round

In eddies to the ground,

Where I, an humble PAN, with many a wreath was crown'd.