f

THE INDIAN COTTAGE,

A TALE.

Continued from page 111.

"EVER since that time I have frequented only the suburbs of Delhi. Thence I saw the stars enlightening the abodes of men, and confounded with their fires, as if the sky and the city were only the same domain. When the moon poured her beams upon the scene, I perceived other colours than those of the ay. I din red the towers, the houses, and the trees, once silvered and covered with fhades, which I saw reflected to a great distance on the waters of the Gemma. I traversed at liberty the solitary and silent quarte of the city which then seemed wholly my own. Meanwhile mankind would have refused me a handful of rice, so odious had religion rendered me. Not being able therefore to find the means of subsistem among the living, sought it among the dead; I went to the tombs to eat the victuals presented by the pious relations at the graves of the deceased.

"In those places I loved to meditate. I said to myself, "Here is the city of peace here power and pride disappear; innocence and virtue are safe here all the cares and fears of life are dead; even the fears of death are forgot. This is the inn where the traveller takes up his lodging for ever; and here the paria finds a place of repose." During such meditations, I despised the world, and thought death a thing to be desired. I considered the fast, where each moment a multitude of stars were rising. Although their destinations were un known to me, I perceived that they were connected with those of the human race, and that nature which had caused to afsemble, for the relief of their wants, so many objects that they never see, had no lefs attached to them those that the presents to their view. My soul therefore ascended the skies with the stars; and when Aurora began to join to their sweet and eternal brightness, her rosy tints, I believed myself at the gates of heaven. But as soon as her fires gilded the spires of the pagodas I vanished like a fhade; I went away to repose myself far from men, in the fields, at the foot of a tree, where the birds with their songs lulled me asleep."

'Sensible and unfortunate man, said the Englishman, your story is very affecting. Believe me the most part of cities should be seen only

by night. After all nature has beauties belonging to the night, which are not lefs charming than those of the day; a famous poet, à coun✦ryman of mine, has made them his sole theme in one of his works. But tell me, how did you find means to render yourself happy during the day.'

"It was a good deal gained to be happy during the night, replied the Indian. Nature resembles a fine lady, who during the day exhibits the beauties of her face only to the public, and who during the night unveils all her charms to her lover. But if solitude has its enjoyments, it has also its privations. To the unfortunate, solitude seems a calm harbour, whence he can view the passions of other men blow over without being disturbed by them; but while he congratulates himself on his own unruffled tranquillity, time hurries him along its current. We can never cast anchor in the river of life; it carries along with equal rapidity, the man who struggles against the stream, as it does him who suffers himself to be carried along, the wise as well as the foolish; and both arrive at the end of their days, the one after having abused life, and the other without having known how to enjoy it. I did not wish to be wiser than nature, nor to find my happiness beyond the limits fhe has prescribed to man. I wished above all things to gain a friend to whom I might communicate my pleasures and my pains. sought one long among my equals; but I found only persons actuated by envy. Meanwhile I found one, sensible, grateful, faithful, and inaccessible to prejudice; indeed he was not one of the human species,- it was this dog that you see. They had exposed him, when a little whelp, at the corner of a street where he was ready to die of hunger. I was touched with pity for the poor creature; I reared him, he attached himself to me, and became my inseparable companion.-That was not enough, I wanted a friend more unhappy than a dog; one acquainted with all the evils of human society, and who might afsist me in supporting them; one, who should desire only the blessings of nature, and with whom I might enjoy them. It is only by fheltering each other mutually, and uniting their branches, that two tender young trees resist the storm. Providence crowned my desires in giving me a virtuous wife. It was in the source of my misfortunes that I found that of my happiness. "One night that I was at the burial place of the brahmins, I perceived by the light of the moon, a young female brahmin half covered with her yellow veil. At the sight of a woman of the kindred of my ty fants, I started back with horror; but returned through compafsion

Sept. 25. when I observed how she was employed. She was setting a vessel, with some victuals, upon a hillock, which covered the afhes of her mother, who had lately been burnt alive, along with the corpse of her father, according to the practice of her cast; and he was burning insence there, to recal her fhade. The tears rushed into my eyes at seeing, a person more unhappy than myself. I said to myself, alas! I am bound with the bonds of infamy, but thou with those of glory. At least I live undisturbed at the foot of my precipice; thou still tremblest on the , verge of thine. The same destiny that has carried off thy mother, threatens one day to carry off thee also. Thou hast received only one life, and thou must die two deaths. If thy own death does not cause thee go down to the grave, that of thy husband will drag thee thither though still alive. I was weeping, and he was weeping. Our eyes bathed in tears met each other, and spoke like those of the unfortu. nate; fhe turned away hers, wrapt herself in her veil, and retired

The following night, I returned to the same place. She had set a greater store of provisions on her mother's tomb. She had judged that I stood in need of them; and as the brahmins often poison the victuals they place on the graves of the dead, to prevent the parias from eating, to show me that I needed be under no apprehension of danger in using her's, she had brought fruits only. I was affected by this mark of humanity; and in order to testify the respect I bore to her filial offer. ing, instead of taking away her fruits I added flowers. These were poppies, to express the share I took in her grief. The following night I saw, with joy, that she had approved my homage; the poppies were watered; and fhe had set at a little distance from the tomb a new basket of fruits. Pity and gratitude gave me courage: yet not daring to speak to her as a paria, for fear of shocking and displeasing her; I'attempted, as a man, to exprefs to her all the affection which the caused to spring up in my soul. According to the practice of the Indies, to make myself understood, I borrowed the language of flowers, To the poppies I added marigolds *. The following night I found my poppies and marigolds weli watered: The night after, I became still boider; I added to the poppies and marigolds, sumach, which tanners use to dye their leather black, as the exprefsion of my humble and unhappy passion. Next morning after the dawn, I ran to the tomb; but I saw the sumach quite withered, for it had not been watered

*The same word signifies either marigold or care.

7

She re

The following night trembling I put down a tulip; its red leaves and black heart expressed the fires which consumed mine. Next day I found my tulip in the same state with the sumach. I was greatly dise tressed; however on the morrow I brought a rose bud with its prickles, as the symbol of my hopes, accompanied with many fears. But what was my despair when with the first return of the early dawn, I saw my rose bud far from the tomb! I thought I should have lost my reason Whatever might happen I resolved to speak to her. Next night as soon as the appeared, I threw myself at her feet. But I was quite deprived of the powers of utterance while I presented my rose. plied, "Unfortunate man, thou talkest to me of love, whilst in a fhort time I fhall be no more. Like my mother I must accompany to the funeral pile my husband just now dead. He was advanced in years: I was wedded to him when a child: adieu retire and forget me: in three days nothing will remain of me but a little ashes." While speaking these words the sighed. For my part, pierced with grief, I said to her, Unhappy Brahminess, nature has broken asunder the bands that united thee to society; break instantly those of superstition also.' You can do this by taking me for your husband.'"What, replied the weeping, fhould I escape death to live with thee in thy disgrace! Ah if thou lovest me, leave me to die.” God forbid, cried I, that I should draw you from the evils into which you are about to plunge yourself only to plunge you in mine: dear Brahminefs, let us flee to the depth of the forest, it is much safer to trust to tigers than to men. But that God in whom I trust, he will not forsake us. Let us flee: love, the night, thy unhappy situation, thy innocence, every thing favour 135. Let us make haste, unfortunate widow, already the funeral pile is preparing for thee, and thy dead husband calls thee thither. Poor fallen vine, support thyself on me, I fhall be thy palm tree.' Here sighing the cast a look on her mother's tomb, then towards heaver, and letting one of her hands fall into mine, with the other she took my rose. Instantly I took hold of her arm, and we set out. I threw her veil into the Ganges, to make her relations think that she had drowned herself. We travelled several nights along the banks of the river, concealing ourselves in fields of rice by day. At last we arrived in this part of the country, which war had formerly laid waste. L pierced into the heart of this wood, where I built this hut, and planted a little garden. We live here very happily, I revere my`wife like the sun, and I love her like the moon. In this solitude we are to each other all the world. We are indeed despised by the world, but as

we have a mutual esteem for each other, the praises I give her, or those I receive from her, seem sweeter than the applause of a nation.' Speaking these words he cast a look on his child in the cradle, and another on his wife who was shedding tears of joy.

To be continued.

.

TO CORRESPONDENTS.

THE Communication by Criticus is thankfully received; and fhall be inserted with the first convenience. It is rather longish.

The same thing will apply to Allegorica, with this difference, that it is horter.

The observations of a City Traveller, are also received. It would be well if all travellers would make as good use of their opportunities of observation.

It is a great many months since W. E. sent notice that he was to transmit an essay on a day specified; the day is long since past. Lest it may have been sent and lost by the way, the Editor takes this mode of informing him that it has never come to his hand. It probably often happens that the Editor is thus accused of neglecting correspon dents without any blame on his part.

The elegant translation of Lomonofsof's beautiful oration on Peter the great is received, and fhall appear as soon as circumstances wild permit.

The Editor acknowledges with fhame on his part, that he had very inadvertently mislaid the first communication by H. E. having put it by till he should get an opportunity of making the necessary inquiries; which not having been able to do very soon, it entirely escap ed his notice. His second favour is received. The seeds inclosed are not in the least of the nature of the Botany Bay plant which was mise taken for a pine. Those sent were often brought from India and China before Botany Bay was discovered. They are employed for the purpose of marking linens in the east Indies, and make a very durable black stain that does not burn the cloth. It is an object well wor thy of farther illustration.

It is amazing this fruit in quantities never fhould have been brought to Europe as an article of traffic, for it might certainly be applied to some valuable uses in arts.

* The plate that accompanies this number is the fourth in the series of Russian fheep &c. and is described, Bee, vol. XVI, p. 312. Fig. 1 and 2, horns of ægagrus, or wild goat. Fig. 3, horn of thờ Siberian Ibex.