Imatges de pàgina
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He listened to the breezes, that now began to arise, as they rustled among the pliant branches of the cypresses, and swayed the lofty heads of the date palms. "Why is it," said he," that all external nature changes from rest to motion, and from motion again to rest, while thy mind, Sadak, abides from sun to sun, in unvaried and monotonous sadness? What avail the varying seasons, the rejoicing spring, and the abundant summer to me, whose life is one long and dreary winter ?".

Scarcely had he spoken, when the wind stayed, and the trees no longer rustled. They ceased not gradually, softening away into calmness; but at once, as if arrested by some magician's hand. A strange silence came on. The mellow song of the late birds was hushed. loud humming bees and buzzing flies were still. The atmosphere was unaccountably oppressed, and nature seemed to stand in 2e of some approaching phenomenon.

The

Sadak sprung on his feet. His restless mind had busied itself in wide researches into the secrets of nature; and he knew much of the occult powers of the universe, though he had holden no communion with them. A dim expectation was on his mind: it was fulfilled when the ceiling of the apartment divided, and the Deev Alfakir stood before him. He stood in the gloomy beauty of majesty degraded and obscured. The earthly lights that illuminated the place were extinguished on his entrance; a dull glow emitted from his body supplied their place, and filled the room with its lurid glare.

"Sadak," said the Deev, "thou wouldst have forgetfulness-of what? and why?"

Of the falsehood of woman, and the treachery of man. Why! because I have suffered by them, and suffer yet."

"I must know more," returned the Deev, 66 ere I grant the boon thou wouldst win. Speak out; make known thy sufferings."

"I will not," replied Sadak, "why should I rend open the veil for thee, enemy of my race and of me? why comest thou hither; say quickly, and depart."

"Rash mortal!" answered Alfakir, ́ ́ I

am not thine enemy, but thy friend. Bethink thee ere I go, I have the power to serve thee, and the will."

"The power thou mayst, the will when did a Deev will well to man ?" "Foolish Sadak, ask rather, when did man will well to himself? The friend that betrayed thee had not done so but for thy blindness, that would madly trust when temptation was beyond the power of man to resist. The woman that was loved and was false, deceived thee, because thy confidence was blind, weak, absurd; loathsome from its imbecility, even in the eyes of its object. Thou wonderest that I, thine enemy, should wish the well; but not that thyself should have laboured to work to thyself evil."

"Enough!" said Sadak, "thou recallest too much; but teach me, if thou canst to forget."

"Listen then," replied the Deev, "far away, in the midst of the ocean, beyond the points were ship has ever sailed, is an island girt with impassable barriers. This island was the dowry of a princess of our race; it holds treasures, to which the riches of the East are but as the dust in a silken purse. Here dwell the rulers of the elements; here are hidden the essences

of life; vion." "Give me," exclaimed Sadak, "give me of these waters, that I may drink and

here flow the waters of obli

be at peace."

"At peace, surely," answered the Deev, "but who would have of these waters must seek them."

"Seek them! and where in thine unapproachable island? I should gain much by my quest."

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"Thus hastily judge the children of ignorance and folly. Trust to me, and the way shall be easy. Seek at thy leisure the nearest port of the Southern Ocean. Thou shalt there learn more, and be brought to the object of thy search. Swear to do this, I promise thee the waters of oblivion shall be thine."

tating whether next to convey himself, his attention was aroused by the approach of a boat. It contained no one, but, selfguided, steered its course in a direct line to the spot were Sadak had stood still to watch it. What was he to do? to trust himself to such a vessel, for such a voyage seemed madness. Yet the power, that guided the boat, in an unerring line to that spot, might equally guard its course across the ocean. Sadak examined the boat; it was beautifully fitted up. A silken awning was suspended over a luxurious couch, and a plentiful supply of provisions occupied a sheltered part of the vessel. On the couch was written in letters of gold: " For Sadak, the searcher for the waters of oblivion."

"I swear, " said Sadak. "Farewell then," said the Deev: ne spread his broad shadowy wings, the roof opened for his passage. It closed after him; and the lamps, self-lighted, burned brightly as before. Sadak heard the rustling of the trees, and the prolonged notes of the nightingale fell mournfully

on his ear.

He no longer hesitated, but seated himself in the boat, which instantly sailed. away, as before, in a straight line, unmoved by wind or wave. It proceeded with great rapidity, and passing the straits of Ormuz, emerged into the Arabian Sea. The shores of Arabia and of Hindostan, speedily vanished from the eyes of the voyager. The sky was above, and the sea around him; land there was none. He was on the vast plain of the Indian

He lost no time in preparing for his journey; and placing his household under the superintendance of a man of rank and probity, who was his friend, he departed, crossed the Lauristan mountains, and arrived at Nabon, on the Persian Gulf. Here, while rambling on the shore, medi

ocean.

Three days and three nights his course continued thus, during which no storm arose, no cloud dimmed the surface of the sky. On the fourth day Sadak discerned afar off, a dim grey speck on the surface of the waters. It came to his strained and wearied eye refreshing as the cool springs to the traveller of the desert.

To this object the course of the boat was plainly directed; and Sadak perceived, that he was carried along with still increased velocity. As he approached, he gazed earnestly on the island, for such he perceived it to be, and was terrified.

It seemed a vast rock, the sides of which, springing from the bosom of the waters, slanted outwardly to a great distance, veiling the waters beneath them in an impervious gloom; clothed in which the unseen waves thundered and boiled with increasing roar. The heart of the wanderer sickened, for escape seemed impossible. Here he must close his voyage and his life, in the conflicting waters of that angry sea.

The boat shot under the black and rug. ged sides of the overhanging precipice. Instead of being suddenly overwhelmed in the circling waters, or dashed against the rock, Sadak perceived that he was carried along softly as before. He heard the din on either side; till his hearing was nigh extinct, but his own course, though rapid was smooth and uninterrupted The gloom by which he was surrounded, the

eye could not penetrate; but it appeared to Sadak, that the darkness was peopled by forms that flitted around him, and he thought he heard their laughs rising amid the roars of the waters; now and then too, a gleam of red light shot from fissures in the rock, but without dissolving the darkness into which it pierced, and serving only to render the horror more hideous.

Åt length, and in a moment, the darkness was changed to extreme light, issuing from the cavern, the boat rushed into a torrent more violent and fearful than the imagination can conceive. Sadak instinctively closed his eyes with terror, when their gaze fell on the edge of a precipice, over which the stream threw the mass of its waters, that fell, and fell, till they broke in mists and thunder in the gulf below; but the vessel, instead of being hurried away by the torrent, sailed calmly across its waters, till it reached the opposite bank. Sadak leaped ashore, and gazed on the scene around him.

First he looked with astonishment on the rocky barrier that surrounded the place, and from beneath which he had emerged. This, rough and jagged with immense indentations, rose, cliff upon cliff, in dizzy grandeur, 'till the cloud-vestured heights of Kaf seemed to loose in the comparison. Dim caverns pierced its base, whence issued the elements in their strength. Volumes of murky and sulphureous flame were vomited forth by some; torrents issued from others, and in some Sadak believed he heard the roaring of imprisoned winds. The midway rocks were bare and black, their summits were the dwellings of the tempests and the storm. The thunder rolled there as in its own regions, and the lightenings vainly shot their fires against rocks coeval with the

heavens.

Sadak turned away to explore some other portion of the island. He stood at the bottom of a declivity, he ascended with labour to its top, what a sight met his eyes. All human splendour, faded into nothingness, by the side of the magnificence that met his view.

Before him were the marble palaces of the Deevs, built before their conquest by Sultan Soliman. Vast as magnificent, they covered hills, one beyond another, rising till lost in distance.

The face of external nature was changed; trees of freshest foilage clustered into spreading screens, excluding from view the barren terrific region Sadak had just left; soft verdure covered the ground and perfumes of the sweetest flowers gushed before every step.

Sadak entered the eternal dwellings dwellings now no more, for they were

desolate and uninhabited. As he roamed through halls paved with the purest marble, beneath roofs of fretted gold supported by pillars of porphyry and adamant. Sadak sighed to think, that all this goodly shew should be lost to its banished fabricators. He looked around and his eye fell on chests of marble, sealed with the signet of the conqueror. Here, century after century, pined the imprisoned Deevs, while nature was changing in successive ages, and the world was fading and reviving again in endless transformation.

Leaving these palaces, and rambling still farther, he arrived at another desolate region, resembling the first in which he had been placed. The same lofty rocks, the same barren soil, and the same display of elemental violence was there; but in the midst of the place a capacious lake extended its coal black waters, till, overflowing their natural basin, they fell down the precipices in rushing torrents. A dim cloud of exhalations arose on the margin of the lake; the sun beams withdrew from its surface on which the volcanic fires shot a wavering and murky gleam; Sadak felt that these were the Waters of Oblivion.

The

He stood on the brink of the wished for flood, yet hesitated to drink. While he deliberated, the noxious vapours mingled with his breathing; at once overcome by their influence, he staggered, reeled and fell. From the state of senselessness, he passed into one of uneasy sleep, disturbed by a thousand painful visions. calamities of the past, the faithless friend, the selfish mistress, rose before him. He awoke from his slumbers, calling aloud on death to free him from the pangs of memory. As he opened his eyes, he found to his horror he was hanging over the edge of a rocky shelf, that overlooked a fearful chasm. With all the energy of self-preservation, he sprung from his situation, and gained a place of safety.

Under the influence of the gloom that oppressed him, he again approached the lake. What a moment was this! to drink of the waters, and lose for ever the world of the past! Sadak trembled, and a cold shuddering pervaded his frame. He felt how dear is the memory even of sorrow that has been; how desolate without it must be the dreary future, until future things have gone by, and in fading createa a new past for the mind to recall and dwel on. As these thoughts passed over his mind, he began to loathe the black and deadly flood that lay before him; he turned hastily away, and beheld the Deev Alfakir.

"Welcome Sadak !" he exclaimed ;

"welcome to all thou hast wished! Forgetfulness is thine-forgetfulness of misery and disappointment. There flow the Waters of Oblivion; drink then, and be blessed!"

"I have thought anew of it," replied Sadak, "and hate the selfish and coward draught."

"Fool?" said the Deev, " ever chang ing and uncertain! but now thou didst call for death, yet fleddest to behold him near as the sparrow from the eagle. Bethink thee that, hereafter thou wilt wish and in vain, for these happy waters: the evils of thy life shall haunt thy remembrance with bitterness unceasing. Then thou wilt long for oblivion; but mortal comes not twice here. Drink, then, and secure peace while it offers."

Sadak paused-for a moment he wavered-It was but for a moment; "No!" he answered, "I will not drink! Thanks for thy offer and thy aid, though I wil not avail myself of it. I will depart as I

came."

"Depart!" shouted the laughing Deev, "how and when? Thinkest thou the boat will bear thee back in safety, who hast mocked its master, and despised his gifts? Trifle not! Did I bring thee hither to return with the memory of what thou hast seen-to prate to clay things like thyself of the fallen splendour of our race ?-Once inore I bid thee drink."

"I will not !" answered Sadak. The Deev bent on him a look of darkness and of rage. His colossal figure shook with fury, as the mountain heaves and swells on the birth of an earthquake, lightening blazed in his eyes, and his voice was nigh choked as he thundered once more "Drink?"

Sadak spoke not-moved not.

"Then perish

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The Deev twisted his hand in his victim's hair, raised him from the ground, and hurled him far aloft into the air. He rose to a fearful height, then turned and fell. The Waters of Oblivion received him-they parted and closed again over

adak for ever.

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cried Lieutenant Clavell one day to some men, who were doing some part of their duty ill; when shortly after, a person touched him on the shoulder, and turning round, he saw the Admiral, who had overheard him. "And pray Clavell, what would you have done if you had been Captain?" "I would have flogged them well, Sir," No you would not Clavell, no you would not," he replied; "I know you better." He used to tell the Ship's Company that he was determined the youngest midshipman should be obeyed as implicitly as himself, and that he would punish with great severity any instance to the contrary. When a midshipman made a complaint, he would order the man for punishment the next day; and in the interval calling the boy down to him, would say, "In all probability the fault was your's; but whether it were not, I am sure it would go to your heart to see a man old enough to be your father, disgraced and punished on your account; and it will, therefore, give me a good opinion of your disposition, if, when he is brought out, you ask for his pardon." When this recommendation, acting as it did like an order, was complied with, and the lad interceded for the prisoner, Captain Collingwood would make great apparent difficulty in yielding; but at length would say, "This young gentleman has pleaded so humanely for you, that, in the hope that you will feel a due gratitude to him for his benevolence, I will for this time overlook your offence." The punishments he substituted for the lash, were of many kinds, such as watering the grog, and other modes now happily general in the Navy. Among the rest was one which the men particularly dreaded. It was ordering any offender to be excluded from his mess, and be employed in every extra duty, so that he was every moment liable to be called upon deck for the meanest service, amid the laughter and jeers of the men and boys. Such an effect had this upon the sailors; that they have often declared that they would prefer having three dozen lashes; and, to avoid the recurrence of this punishment, the worst characters never failed to become attentive and orderly. How he sought to amuse and occupy the attention of the men appears in some of these letters. When they were sick, even while he was an Admiral, he visited them daily, supplied them from his own table; and when they were convalescent, they were put under the charge of the Lieutenant of the morning watch, and daily brought up to the Admiral, for examination by him. The result of this conduct, was, that the

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sailors considered him, and called him their father; and frequently, when he changed his ship, many of the men were seen in tears for his departure. But with all this there was no man who less courted, or to speak more truly, who held in more entire contempt, what is ordinarily styled popularity. He was never known to unbend with the men, while at the same time, he never used any coarse or violent language to them himself, or permitted it in others. "If you do not know a man's name," he used to say to the Officers, "call him sailor, and not you-sir, and such other appellations; they are offensive and improper."-Corres. of Lord Collingwood.

NO' HING BUT HEARTS.

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Ir must have been the lot of every whist player to observe a phenomenon at the card-table as mysterious as any in nature. I mean the constant recurrence of a certain trump throughout the night- —a run upon a particular suit, that sets all the calculations of Hoyle and Cocker at defiance. The chance of turning up is equal to the Four Denominations. They should alternate with each other, on the average-whereas a Heart, perhaps, shall be the last card of every deal. King or Queen, Ace or Deuce, still it is of the same clan. You cut-and it comes again. Nothing but Hearts!" I had looked in by chance at the Royal Institution; a Mr. Professor Pattison, of New York, I believe, was lecturing, and the subject was-" Nothing but Hearts!" Some hundreds of grave, curious, or scientific personages were ranged on the benches of the Theatre;-every one in his solemn black. On a table in front of the Professor, stood the specimens ; hearts of all shapes and sizes-man's, woman's, sheep's, bullock's-on platters or in cloths, were lying about as familiar as household wares. Drawings of hearts, in black or blood-red, (dismal valentines!) hung around the fearful walls. Preparations of the organ in wax, or bottled, passed currently from hand to hand, from eye to eye, and returned to the gloomy table. It was like some solemn Egyptian Inquisition-a looking into dead men's hearts for their morals.

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The Professor began. Each after each he displayed the samples; the words "auricle" and "ventricle" falling frequently on the ear, as he explained how those "solemn organs" pump in the human breast. He showed, by experiments with water, the operation of the valves with the blood, and the impossibility of its

revulsion. As he speke an indescribable thrilling or tremor crept over my left breast-thence down my side-and all over. I felt an awful consciousness of the bodily presence of my heart, till then nothing more than it is in a song-a mere metaphor-so imperceptible are all the grand vital workings of the human frame ! Now I felt the organ distinctly. There it was!-a fleshy core-aye, like that on the Professor's plate-throbbing away auricle and ventricle, the valve allowing the gushing blood at so many gallons per minute, and ever prohibiting its return!

The Professor proceeded to enlarge on the important office of the great functionary and the vital engine seemed to dilate within me, in proportion to the sense of its stupendous responsibility. I seemed nothing but auricle, and ventricle, and valve. Ï had no breath, but only pulsations. Those cussions can alone corroborate this feeling, who have been present at anatomical dishow the part discoursed of, by a surpassing sympathy and sensibility, cause its counterpart to become prominent and allengrossing to the sense; how a lecture on hearts makes a man seem to himself as all heart, or one on heads causes a phrenologist to conceive he is "all brain."

Thus was I absorbed :-my "bosom's lord," lording over every thing beside. By and bye, in lieu of one solitary machine, I saw before me a congregation of hundreds of human forcing pumps, all awfully working together-the palpitations of hundreds of auricles and ventricles, the flapping of hundreds of valves!--And anon they collapsed-mine-the Professor'sthose on the benches-all! all!-into one great auricle-one great ventricle-one vast universal heart!

S

The lecture ended.-I took up my hat and walked out, but the discourse haunted me, I was full of the subject. A kind of fluttering, which was not to be cured even by the fresh air, gave me plainly to understand that my heart was not in the Highlands," nor in any lady's keeping-but where it ought to be in my own bosom, and as hard at work as like the carriages on a birth-night, coming a parish pump. I plainly felt the bloodin by the auricle, and going out by the ventricle; and shuddered to fancy what must ensue either way, from any "breaking the line." Then occurred to me the danger of little particles absorbed in the blood, and accumulating to a stoppage at the valve,-the "pumps getting choked," -a suggestion that made me feel rather qualmish, and for relief I made a call on Mrs. W- The visit was ill chosen and mistimed, for the lady in question, by dint of good nature, and a romantic turn

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