Unnerved to hurt or help, his alter'd state Thus may some chief, by bribes and promise gain'd, When paltry bridge racks his brain of lead, Thes and —s, give what vote they will. One truth restrains the joy, the grief controls,- But high alike in talents and in place, If learned shews a Janus face, One, fair with smiles, and one with frowning black,- Such dubious conduct fails his name to save- O that a wish that evening could revoke And leave that shame unknown, that speech unspoke; In good old times, when England's Church uprear'd Truth, undefiled, stretch'd forth the blest control, unco good" How changed that joyous scene! The " And rapes, thefts, robberies are trivial things; Is no way left to bring those days again, Some still remain our Church's best defence, These are our hopes. To them and Lords like them To cleanse the Church, and raise her once again Then Peace shall cheer the souls which Cant beguil'd- Apostate Prelates be with scorn displaced, Nor rule the Church their truckling tongues disgraced; Dismitred knaves to build a barn shall club, To enring with living gold Fingers, now beneath the mould, (Woe is me!) grown icy cold. One dear hand hath smooth'd them too, Since their bright abundance fell One dear hand! the tenderest Careful days, and wakeful nights, So a dull, unlovely hue Now again, a shining streak Silent warning! silvery streak! To announce the day far spent ;- Brighten-brighten, blessed light! C. THE FATE OF THE CALIPH MOTASSER. ALL travellers in the Ottoman do- in the verandah. I looked on for some minions, and other eastern countries, time merely as a spectator, for my describe a race of story-tellers who ignorance of the language prevented go about the coffee-houses, and tell me from understanding him. The tales containing perhaps as much appearance of the grave and portly truth, and more entertainment, than old Turks who were smoking and the newspapers of Christendom. listening to the recital, had something Their narratives, like those of the in it singularly simple and primitive Arabian Nights, are chiefly distin--sometimes the dawn of a smile, or guished for fertility of invention, and curious flights of fancy, and every new recital is expected to contain something different from the preceding. These tales do not inculcate any moral, with particular emphasis, the sole object of the author is to interest and amuse; and, if one may judge by the effect on the auditors, it is fully attained. The relation is given with the easy simplicity of conversation, and the language is curiously flexible, sometimes flowing with colloquial familiarity, at others swelling into dignity, and in all cases accommodating itself to the various incidents of the story, with a felicity not excelled in the literature of Europe. Except in the tales of Zadig and Vathek, they have never been imitated with success; even in the former an allegory is too obvious; it diminishes the Arabian characteristics of that beautiful extravagance. One day, when in the town of Scio, I happened to pass a coffee-room where a story-teller was exercising his vocation for the amusement of a number of Turks, who were smoking rather the aurora borealis of mirth, brightened the solemnity of their countenances-at others they rolled their white eyes with marvelling sagacity-anon they seemed moved with sadness, and looked as innocently pitiful as chubby children over a dead robin redbreast. I desired my dragoman to pay attention to the story, that he might tell me to what it related. He was, however, as little of a historian as if he had been a secretary of state, and furnished as imperfect a treatise on what he had heard as any précis of a diplomatician. But he remembered some of the incidents and descriptions; the latter sufficiently adorned with opal and precious stones, and the former not less magical, though tinted here and there with a touch of nature at once true and pathetic. The subject of the tale was either that of the Persian parricide Chosroes, or the still more striking fate of the Caliph Motasser. The following is an attempt to arrange into some sort of consistency the matter repeated to me, applying it to Motasser. The tale told was known among the auditors under the name of ASTROLAB, OR THE SOOTHSAYER OF BAGDAD. ONE evening, while Astrolab the Chaldean was sitting on the flat roof of his observatory in Bagdad, watching an occultation of Aldiboran with the moon, Gules his servant obtruded herself before him, and said that an old woman with a beautiful young maiden was eagerly desirous to speak with him. At that moment Astrolab was studiously engaged in examining the immersion of the star, but, on hearing this, he started up and ordered them to be instantly admitted into his study below, and to tell them that as soon as the phenomenon was over he would be with them. Gules retired, and the astrologer, without resuming his contemplation of the figure, as it appeared on the plate of quicksilver in which it was mirrored, walked hastily about, agitated with emotions greatly at variance with the solemn and contem plative mood from which the message had roused him. After remaining some time thus disturbed, he at last composed himself, and went down to the chamber where the strangers were sitting. On entering the room, he was surprised by the remarkable contrast in the appearance of his visitors. Humanity could not be more uncouth than the aged Barrah. She was more like an Egyptian mummy who had stepped out of a catacomb, than a breathing old woman. She had but one eye, and where the other should have been there was a blind blue blob, like a turquois. It could not be said she had any complexion, for her wrinkled skin was like shrivelled leather, and she had but two teeth in her upper gum, and they resembled splinters of yellow cane-long they were, and seemingly of little use, but her voice was soft and pleasing, and all she said was so discreet and wise, that when she began to speak, her forbidding countenance and deformities were forgotten. Gazelle, the girl whom she had brought with her, was as beautiful as she herself was the reverse. She was not only fair and young, but adorned with an innocency of look and manner uncommon and fascinating. Astrolab was at once surprised and interested at the combined simplicity and splendour of her extraordinary charms. After some interchange of civilities, being seated on his sofa beside the two ladies, he enquired to what circumstance he owed the felicity and honour of their visit at such a time; "for," said he, "no doubt you are aware that a great configuration is at this time going on in the heavens, and that all things done and undertaken under it have influences that reach beyond their proper sphere, and affect the destinies of others." Barrah replied, that really they had not heard any thing of it. "We are," said she, " simple folk, and have only come into Bagdad this evening to have the fortune of Gazelle cast. She is my grand-daughter-her mother is dead, and a great man has been more than once at my house, and has offered a handsome price if I would sell her; now, as she is very beautiful, which you may well see, I would not wish to part with her until I had some assurance from your knowledge, as to what her future fortunes will be: for her mother had a dream in the night before she was born, in which she was told by the vision of an old man with a crown of gold on his head, that the child she was to bring forth would be a dragon, and rule the fate of kings; therefore we have come to you to have her horoscope drawn, and I have brought with me five pieces of gold to pay you for the trouble." While Barrah was thus talking, the rose faded from the complexion of the gentle Gazelle, and her face grew pale and so bright, that it almost seemed to glow with the lustre of an alabaster image in the moonshine, while her eyes became more radiant than ever. Astrolab was awed as he looked on her, thinking that a form so strangely lovely could hardly be of human parentage; and when he looked at Barrah, and observed the shocking contrast which she presented, he could not but dread that there was some undivulged mystery in their visit at such a time; and he had a fearful reminiscence concerning the good and evil genii that govern the fortunes of men. Moreover he was grievously perplexed at the value of the fee, it was so much beyond the gift he commonly received for calculating nativities. However, notwithstanding his fears and his dread, he accepted the money, and taking his tablets, began to question the old woman respecting the astrological particulars necessary to enable him to construct the horoscope of Gazelle; and when he had noted the answers, he requested them to give him time to make his calculations, and to consult the stars and their aspects. This was readily acceded to, and the ladies departed, having agreed to revisit him at the same hour of the same day of the same moon, in the year following. When they had left the sage, and he was on the point of remounting to his observatory, he happened to cast his eyes a little curiously on the notes on his tablets, and beheld with amazement that they did indeed indicate no ordinary destiny. While he was thus looking at the portents, Gules again came in and said, "Hossain, whom I know by sight, an old officer of the palace, is at the door with a stripling, whom I am persuaded is no other than Mo |