thou lookest down

upon

It touches thee.

.:

this earth,-thou hearest my moan. But thy compafsion hath nothing

of dolorous. It is altogether celestial. Yes, thou livest! . It is I who am dead

blandifhments of pleasure

Dead to the

Dead to the love of

glory which formerly excited me to wake in silence by the light of the nocturnal lamp, surrounded by the writings of those immortal sages, who still, even after their decease, instruct the earth.-They still live, and I am no more. When! O when fhall come that dread hour; the hour of verité, which fhall free my soul from this body of dust! Vast solitude! then I fhall gently repose upon thy bosom, forgotten in the peaceful earth.-May no inscription warn the traveller who I was! but may some young man, whose heart is susceptible of the most tender emotions, one day shed a tear upon my grave

Let the rest of mortals remain ignorant of the value of my heart; the soul enlarged from its prison fhall take its flight into the heavens.

Inhabitants of the celestial spheres! invisible companions of men ye whom heaven has destined to watch over virtue! Angels! Genii! what name should I give thee? Perhaps touched with my grief, at this moment you surround me.-You count my tears,-you communicate one to the other the emotions with which they inspire thee-Etherial substances! speak,-Is not Serena among you? That tender friend whom death hath snatched from me, is the not now charged by heaven to be my tutelar Angel? Celestial spirit! O divine Serena, no longer refuse to unvail thyself to my impatient desires. This earthly and mortal eye, cannot, it is true, perceive thy aerian body. Come, nevertheless, render thy beauty visible to my perception. Appear in this desert; and let thy presence beCome to me a heaven.

But cease! O my soul to bewilder thyself-Let not a rafh flight carry thee into the regions of delirium! It is enough to agitate and deceive thyself.-Useless desires, disappear. May tranquil wisdom descend and take thy place in my afflicted heart! . . Repose accompanies wisdom. Thou, whom the hearts of celestial spirits callest by a name unknown on the earth, but whom men formerly called Serena! Happy soul! thou no longer feelest the disappointments of humanity. Separated from us by an immense interval,-placed above the inconstant scenes of this life, thou livest now in a world where the limits of joy and of grief never interfere,-where vice and virtue are never confounded,-where tears never mix with pleasure, where the excefs of voluptuousnefs no more becomes a poignant grief.

O world! what art thou? A deceitful theatre. What are the different states of man? Parts which providence has distributed to them as if to try them. Happy is he who has well performed his part! Death draws the curtain. A new theatre awaits us, where the greatest parts will be acted by those who have worthily filled the lesser ones on this earth. The world has not known thee, O Serena nor what ought to be the greatnefs of thy part!

To be continued.

SIR

To the Editor of the Bee.

Prosessor Anderson

I AM neither scholar nor a collector of curiosities; but as I have often, in the course of my travels through Scotland, which I usually visit once a year, been entertained and instructed by your Miscellany, which frequently falls in my way; I am willing to contribute my mite

for the entertainment of others, in return for the favours I have received from them. If you think the following inscription, which pleased me from its plain simplicity, will be agreeable to your readers, it is much at your service; and in that case I fhall think the trouble I have taken in transcribing it abundantly repaid. It is written on a plain slab of white marble placed in the front of a building erected by a taylor for charitable purposes in Stirling. What struck me as a singularity in this case, is that I am informed the gentleman who wrote the inscription has dedicated a great part of his time to the perfecting military engines of destruction. How he can reconcile his theory with his practice I. pretend not to say. He is not a clergyman as I am afsured; for if he had, the ase, you know, would not have been uncommon. Above the inscription is the figure of a large pair of tailor's scifA RIDER.

sars.

INSCRIPTION.

[Place of the scifsars.]

In order to relieve the distrefs of useful members of society, the ground within this wall, with the adjoining hospital and lands for supporting it, were given to the tradesmen of Stirling, in the year 1530 by Robert Spittal who was taylor to king James the fourth of Scotland. He likewise gave part of his wealth for building useful bridges in this neighbourhood. Forget not, reader that the scifsars of this man do more honour to human nature than the swords of conquerors!

THE INDIAN COTTAGE,

A TALE.

Continued from page 38.

When the Englishman had done eating, the paria presented him with a coal to light his pipe, and having also lighted his own, he made a sign to his wife who brought, and set upon the mat, two cups made of the shell of the cocoa nut, and a large calabash full of punch, which she had made during supper, of water, arrack, and the juice of the sugar cane.

While they smoaked and drank alternately, says the doctor to the Indian, I believe you are one of the happiest men I have ever met, and consequently one of the wisest. Permit me to ask you some questions. How are you so calm in the midst of such a terrible storm? You are sheltered only by a tree, and trees attract lightening." "Never, replied the Indian, has the lightening struck the banian fig tree.""

That is very curious, replied the doctor; the reason must be, that this tree, like the laurel, is pofsefsed of negative electricity." "I do not understand you, rejoined the paria; but my wife believes it is because the God Brahma one day sheltered himself under its foliage: for my part, I think that God having given the banian fig tree in these stormy climes, a very close foliage, and arched branches to fhelter the húman species from the tempest, he does not permit them to be struck with lightening under its covert.” • Your answer is very pious, replied the doctor; thus it is your trust in God that gives you tranquillity of mind. A good conscience gives more courage and calmnefs of mind than the most extensive views of science. Tell me, I pray you, of what cast are you; for you are not of any of those of the Indians, since no Indian will have any intercourse with you. In my list of the learned casts that I was to consult on my route, I never observed that of the parias. In what district of India is your pagoda ?' Every where replied the paria: my pagado is the universe. I adore its author at the rising of the sun, and I bless him at its setting. Instructed by misfortune, I never refuse my afsistance to any one more unhappy than myself. I endeavour to render happy my wife and child, and even my

66

cat and my dog. I await death at the termination of life as a sweet , sleep at the close of day." 'From what book have you drawn these principles?' said the doctor. "From that of nature, replied the Indian; I know no other." Ah! that is a great book, said the Englishman! but who taught you to read it?' Misfortune, replied the paria; being of a cast reputed infamous in my own country, unable to be an Indian, I have made myself a man; rejected by society, I have fled for refuge to nature." But in your solitude you have at least some books?' replied the doctor. "Not one, said the paria. I can neither read nor write." 'You have saved yourself the uneasiness of many a painful doubt, said the doctor, rubbing his forehead: for my part, I have been sent from England, my native country, in search of truth among the learned of many nations, with a view to enlighten them, and to render them happier; but after many vain researches, and very grave disputes, I concluded that the search for truth is folly, because when one has found it he knows not to whom he can impart it, without making himself many enemies. Speak to me with sincerity, are not you of my opinion.'" Though I am only an illiterate person, replied the paria, since you permit me to give my opinion, I fhall give it frankly; I think that every man is obliged to seek the truth, for the sake of his own happiness; otherwise he will be covetous, ambitious, addicted to superstition, wicked, and worthless; nay even'a cannibal, according to the prejudices, or the interest of those with whom he has been bred up."

The doctor, who was still thinking on the three questions which he had proposed to the chief of the pandicts, was charmed with the paria's answer. Since you believe, says he to him, that every man is obliged to seek the truth, tell me what means one ought to use in or der to find it; for our senses deceive us, and our reason bewilders us still more. Reason is quite different in different persons; and, I believe, it is at bottom only the particular interest of each of them : this. I take to be the cause why it is so variable in the world. There are not two religions, two nations, two tribes, two families; what am I saying? there are not two individuals that think exactly alike. With what sense ought one then to search for truth, if even the understanding cannot be of service in the investigation.' "I believe replied the paria, that it is with simplicity of heart. The senses and the judge. ment may be beguiled; but a simple, a sincere and honest heart, though it may be deceived, never.deceives."

'Your answer is profound, said the doctor. One must search after truth with his heart, not with his understanding. Men all feel in the