back several paces, as though he had trodden on a noxious reptile; and the monarch, observing his confusion could not forbear suspecting that there was something evil at work. He sum

He therefore withdrew into an unoccupied room. moned a spirit, with whom through life he had held a constant intercourse, and desired he would make him acquainted with the truth or falsity of his suspicions. The spirit of virtue answered, by disclosing what had been meditated, and what done; which the other no sooner heard, than he commanded him, on his son's falling asleep, to send the vision I am on the point of describing.

After the mid-day meal, the young prince was seized with an unusual drowsiness, and soon fell asleep. He dreamed himself to be in full possession of that which he was desirous of obtaining, the sovereignty of his father's kingdom. He had constituted the hermit second in the state; and thought him. self seated at the table of luxury, satiating his taste with the most exquisite viands. His goblet, as soon as emptied, was again replenished with wines the most delicious. Months, he thought, passed away thus, till, at length pleasure palled upon his appetite. The affairs of state also harassed his mind incessantly; and he looked on every one who approached him with an eye of distrust. His life now seemed burthensome e; and what tended to make him feel it more so, was his receiving information that Ishamar, the former hermit, having gained over a strong party to his interest, was meditating an insurrection, to place himself upon the throne. A confused train of ideas, natural in a dream, now followed. He at length thought himself labouring under the affliction of numberless diseases, brought on by his intemperance. He cursed the tardiness of time, and, in despair, implored that every hour might be his last. In this state, how often would he look back on the pure feelings he had formerly enjoyed. How great was the contrast!

His distress of mind awoke him; and so like reality were the vivid impressions of his dream, that instead of regarding the hermit as formerly, he looked upon him with disgust and horror. He arose and left the house, pensive and sad. would seem," mused he, "that some superior power watches over my welfare, and has favoured me with this latter vision, as a timely warning."

Just then his father, who had followed at a distance, came up with them. The prince, in the moment of conviction, threw himself into his arms, and made a full confession, stating the hermit's determination to have the crown placed upon the

head of the lawful heir, and the scenes which had haunted his slumbering senses.

"I know it all," replied the monarch; "it was by the power of that hypocrite, that you were deluded by the first dream; and it was through my means that the last vision was presented to your mind to counteract its effects. You are now in a state productive of real happiness. You know no cares,

and enjoy health, which will still be your lot, if you continue to lead the same quiet and regular life you have ever done. But if you follow the instructions of your enemy, the hermit, even granting you could ascend my throne, the consequences may be inferred from your last dream. It is my intention, provided you abandon your former rash resolution, to pass here the remainder of my life. My only companion shall be yourself; for that traitor shall be buried in the grave which he destines for me."

After some further conversation, the prince agreed to his father's proposals. At night, the king lay down and feigned to sleep. His son, furnished with the instructions, prepared everything, and pretended to be ready to take his departure. No sooner did the hermit perceive the prince's back turned from the door, than drawing a dagger, he approached the monarch, with the intention of destroying him. The instrument was already elevated, when his intended victim started up, wrenched it from his grasp, and plunged it into his own bosom. The villain dropped, and breathed his last.

Some time elapsed before the youth could reconcile himself to the absence of one whom, through his whole life, he had been accustomed to look upon as a protector; but time, that powerful medicament, and the exhortations of his parent, gradually brought him to contentment with his present situation, and they continued to dwell together in peace in that humble valley.

MARGARET: A FRAGMENT.

She was not very beautiful-perhaps
It is not the most perfect form that wraps
Always the loftiest soul, and her's was high
And bright, and stainless, as yon azure sky
Yet she was lovely!-'t was that loveliness
That cometh from the spirit's pure excess
Of ardent feeling-such her face had caught,
And every feature glowed with the sweet thought
That ever freshly from her heart would mount
To her fair cheek, like to a ceaseless fount,
That bubbles up amidst tair summer flowers,

And keeps them sparkling still with its sweet showers;
And those who saw her once, could ne'er forget
The smiling face of that dear Margaret!

422

SPECULATIONS ON ASTRONOMY.

"ASTRONOMY, geography, and the use of the globes." Every card or circular of every schoolmaster or schoolmistress, advertiseth the willingness and capability of the said master and mistress, for a reasonable stipend, to infuse the aforesaid particles of knowledge, with innumerable other particles, together with all sorts of classical information, to say nothing of morals, manners, and accomplishments, into the head of every juvenile of whatever capabilities, that may be consigned to their charge. This is undoubtedly desirable, and the only drawback is its utter impossibility. Indeed the professions of this species of the human race have always appeared to me as wildly extravagant as those of a romantic lover partially intoxicated, and their undertakings about as feasible as those of the worthy knight of La Mancha. Did they propose to give the merc sketch or outline-the technicalities of those sciences, one o two of which it takes the life of man to master-it would make the thing appear more probable, more decent, more conscientions; but perhaps their familiarity with the arithmetic may have the effect of expanding the imaginative faculty in an orrageous degree, and hence the riotous and unchecked flights of fancy in which they indulge in their advertisements and other lucubrations for the cajolement of soft-hearted mothers and softer-headed fathers. Ay, cajolement! I fearlessly repeat the word. What care I for them? I am 66 grown up" now-free, emancipated-" they shall never whip me more!"

I cannot say that I ever liked or felt attracted toward the, par excellence, sublime study of astronomy; at least not further than was barely necessary for the comprehension of its more attractive neighbour, geography. It is too vast, too stupendous a study for a mind of moderate caliber, requiring one of a somewhat Miltonic cast and dimensions to thoroughly comprehend its grandeur and its glories. I get (like Robert Montgomery) out of my latitude amid infinite space, and experience a puzzling and uncomfortable feeling of vasty vagueness which I cannot possibly mistake for the essence of the "true sublime." I can admire and feel the beauty of the quiet night with her multitudes of stars or worlds, and our world's lampthe moon, hanging in the midst. I can invest them with kindly influences and attributes, imagining how they are gladdening the route of the way-worn wanderer over the solitary waste, or glittering on the path of the home-bound mariner. I

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can imagine the thousand lovely dells, and silent streams, and peaceful cottages "embowered in trees," that they are complacently looking down upon, making beauty still more beauteous; I can imagine the manifold tribes of lovers they are surveying walking in quiet happiness, or tremulous joy, or pouting coyness, or sheepish bashfulness, beneath their beams, engaged in all sorts of speculations, from plans for the realization of the most extravagant bliss down to the most feasible and economical means of purchasing household furniture. I can imagine the multitudinous race of youthful poets who are standing on innumerable balconies, with folded arms and upturned eyes and upturned hair, with a mixture of hazy inspiration inflating and leaden dulness pressing upon their pericraniums, jumbled up with confused notions of power and Byron, and might and majesty, until the chilling night-dews check the formation of incipient sonnets to Venus, Jupiter, or fiery Mars," by hinting that they may catch a cold; and they walk into their chambers, and stalk from the contemplation of immensity unto their pier-glass, to contemplate how they may have looked should any young ladies from adjacent windows have made them the object of their terrestrial speculations while they were picturesquely gazing on things celestial. I can imagine all this and much more, while lolling lazily out of the window, on a moonlight night, in a speculative mood; but when I come to view those heavenly bodies scientifically-astronomically-arithmetically-touching their size, distance, density, specific gravity, &c., together with considerations respecting the centripetal and centrifugal forces by which their motions are regulated, my imagination, as the sailors say, is "taken all aback !" It is making mere matter-of-fact work of it, subjecting the objects of one's love, wonder and unbounded admiration at once to "cold, material laws," to weight and measurement, and divesting them of all their beautiful and poetical properties.

Mythologically considered, I love the planetary bodies well. Literature cannot do without the gods and demi-gods, and full and half-bred divinities of former times. Beautifully has Schiller said, in his Wallenstein

"The intelligible forms of ancient poets,
The fair humanities of old religion;
The Power, the Beauty, and the Majesty.

That had their haunts in dale or piny mountain,
Or forests by slow stream, or pebbly spring,

Or chasms, or wat'ry depths; all these have vanish'd,
They live no longer in the faith of reason!

But still the heart doth need a language, still
Doth the old instinct bring back the old names,
And to yon starry world they now are gone,
Spirits, or gods, that used to share this earth
With man as with their friend; and to the lover
Yonder they move-from yonder visible sky
Shoot influence down: and even at this day
'Tis Jupiter who brings whate'er is great,
And Venus who brings everything that's fair."

No more need be added on this point. "The words of Mercury are harsh, after the songs of Apollo.'

I entertain another quirk or notion against astronomy, except when studied for practical purposes. Though humility be a good thing, a sense of extreme littleness is not; and when we turn from the tremendous-the astounding study of astronomy, to consider what we are in connexion with what is, we become ludicrously small, even when viewed through that powerful magnifier-our own estimation. In the study of natural history, when we read of thousands of insects inhabiting a drop of water, or colonizing a green leaf, we are Brobdignagians, the least of us. But when we come to consider that this "great globe" itself, with all its storms and tempests, its thunder and fierce lightning, is, as regards size, a mere trifle to that of surrounding bodies, and, compared to them in quantity, as a grain of sand to its brethren of the sea-shore, the consideration has a depressing and not an elevating effect. In such a case, what are we who strut and fret about, and take upon us "pride, pomp, and circumstance?" What is our glory or grandeurour wit, or wisdom-or civic, literary, or military fame? Why, we are comparatively smaller than we can possibly comprehend. Shakspeare is a midge, and Napoleon a thing too diminutive to be thought of. Our virtues and our vices sink into insignificance, as, who should trouble themselves about the virtues of a grasshopper, or the vicious propensities of a caterpillar, or enter with interest into the humours, whims, foibles, and eccentricities of a mite? We lose our distinctive qualities as men and women, and become a mass of animalcules. It is discouraging to think of it.

Again, to a certain class of minds, such as have never thoroughly been able to master the perplexities of the multiplication table, the billions, trillions, quintillions, and so on, with which astronomy abounds, is perfectly incomprehensible. They read of a billion or so of miles, but have about as clear an idea of the distance implied, as they have of the occult mysteries of duodecimals. They have a vague idea, perchance, that it may be as far as China and back again, but nothing