going such affliction the heart must either break with grief or rise superior to it.”

BELISARIUS replied, "You have in the composure of your soul many resources against calamity, and I promise before we part to give you a further consolation."

Early the next morning Gelimer found his guest with stick in hand ready to set out upon his journey. He begged him to pass a few days longer with him. BELISARIUS replied, “I have a wife and daughter inconsolable during my absence. Farewell! but hear unmoved what I have to reveal — BELISARIUS, though old and blind, will never forget the reception you have given him.”

"Merciful Heaven!" exclaimed Gelimer; "BELISARIUS blind, and in his old age' abandoned?"

"Yes; my enemies, before they reduced me to poverty, put out my eyes."

"Oh, just Heaven! who were the monsters?

“The envious,” said BELISARIUS. "They accused me of aspiring to the throne, when I thought only of the grave. They had the power to ruin me. I was placed in irons, but the people clamored for my deliverance. It was impossible to resist them; but, in restoring me to liberty, I was deprived of my sight; and Justinian ordered it. It was that that most pained me. You know with what zeal, with what love, and with what fidelity I served him. Even now I feel no anger toward him, and I deeply regret that he is surrounded by wicked men to darken the evening of his days. When I heard that he had pronounced the fatal sentence, I must confess that my constancy failed me. My executioner melted into pity and fell prostrate at my feet. Thanks be to Heaven! it is over now, and I have but a little while to be blind and poor."

Gelimer now asked BELISARIUS to pass the remainder of his life with him.

BELISARIUS replied: "It would indeed be consoling, but I owe a duty to my wife and children, and I go to die in their arms."

Gelimer embraced him with tears. He at last parted from him with the utmost difficulty; but watched him with longing eyes, and exclaimed, “O prosperity! O prosperity! who can confide in thee?"

VATHEK.

THIS celebrated Oriental story was written at one sitting, in French, by Sir WILLIAM BECKFORD, of Fonthill, England, when about eighteen years of age.

It abounds in scenes of surpassing beauty and magnificence. Its splendor of description, varied liveliness of humor, gorgeous richness of fancy, and wild and supernatural interest, are perhaps unequaled in the whole range of fictitious literature. It seems as if all the sweets of Asia are poured out upon it. It is full of glittering palaces, and temples and towers, of jewelled halls, tables of agate and cabinets of ebony and pearl; of crystal fountains, radiant columns, and arcades and perfumes burning in censers of gold.

Lord Byron says, that "even Rasselas must bow before it, and the Happy Valley will not bear a comparison with the Hall of Eblis."

It is pervaded by an awful spirit of mockery and derision, which contrasts strangely with the author's reflections at the conclusion of the story.

The history of the author's life is scarcely less wonderful than his book. He was the son of Sir William Beckford, a prominent English statesman in the time of George III. The elder Beckford distinguished himself by a speech

addressed to the King, in which he dared to upbraid hist counsellors, and to denounce them as enemies to the constitution and laws of the country. The city of London erected a statue to his memory, with the speech engraved upon the pedestal.

The fortune he left his son was of the largest in England. His income was more than half a million dollars per annum. Young BECKFORD early displayed talents of the highest order. His education was conducted by some of the most eminent men of the nation. The Earl of Chatham and Lord Camden directed his studies in literature and philosophy, and Mozart instructed him in the science of music. He was not only versed in the classics, but was enabled to speak and write in nearly all the living languages of the earth, including the Persian and the Arabic. He endeavored to make himself familiar with every branch of science. He studied not only the natural, but the supernatural, the possible and the fantastical. wrote, when but seventeen years of age, "The Memoirs of Extraordinary Painters," a work in which the richest humor and the keenest powers of sarcasm are displayed. He is also author of a brilliant series of letters entitled,

He

Italy, with Sketches of Spain and Portugal," and a work called "Recollections of an Excursion to the Monasteries of Alcobaca and Batalha.”

In 1794 he removed to Portugal and constructed a magnificent palace at Cintra, which was allowed to go to destruction on his return to England. It suggested the following reflections in Childe Harold:

"There, thou too, Vathek! England's wealthiest son,
Once formed thy paradise, as not aware,

When wanton wealth her mightiest deeds hath done,
Meek peace voluptuous lures was ever wont to shun;
Here didst thou dwell, here schemes of pleasure plan,
Beneath yon mountain's ever beauteous brow.

But now, as if a thing unblest by man,
Thy fairy dwelling is as lone as thou ;
Here giant weeds a passage scarce allow,
To halls deserted, portals gaping wide;
Fresh lessons to the thinking bosom, how
Vain are the pleasurances on earth supplied,

Swept into wrecks anon by Time's ungentle tide."

He seemed to live only to "realise the dreams and fictions of his fancy." He had as great a passion for building palaces and towers as VATHEK himself. It is said that he embodied in his residence at Fonthill much of the splendor of the Hall of Eblis. The magnificent mansion erected by his father at a cost of nearly a million dollars failed to satisfy his fastidious taste. He had it pulled down, and built upon its ruins a palace famed throughout the world for its architectural beauty and costly magnificence. This wondrous structure seemed to spring into existence as if by enchantment. He employed four hundred and sixty men to work upon it by day and night. It is said that at one time every cart and wagon in the district were pressed into service, and that even the royal works of St. George's Chapel, Windsor, were abandoned in order to supply carpenters and masons to work upon it. The top of the building was inclosed in immense sweeps of plate glass. The central tower was two hundred and sixty-seven feet in height. It was indeed a palace of pleasure. Its decorations seemed to surpass the wildest dreams of Oriental splendor. The building was pushed forward with such rapidity that the foundation became insecure, and during a gust of wind the main tower fell to the earth.

Mr. BECKFORD was gifted with the most extraordinary vision. He gazed upon the sun with the eye of an eagle. He observed from a distance of forty miles, while on au eminence at Bath, that his tower had disappeared, and made known the fact to his friends before the news of its destruction arrived from Fonthill.