Meanwhile the Sun had set, and as the ture. The old Woman and her husband seized darkness increased, not only the Snake and the old Man's Lamp began shining in their fashion, but also Lily's veil gave out a soft light, which gracefully tinged, as with a meek dawning red, her pale cheeks, and her white robe. The party looked at one another, silently reflecting; care and sorrow were mitigated by a sure hope.

It was no unpleasing entrance, therefore, that the woman made, attended by the two gay Flames, which in truth appeared to have been very lavish in the interim, for they had again become extremely meager; yet they only bore themselves the more prettily for that, towards Lily and the other ladies. With great tact, and expressiveness, they said a multitude of rather common things to these fair persons; and declared themselves particularly ravished by the charm which the gleaming veil* spread over Lily and her attendant. The ladies modestly cast down their eyes, and the praise of their beauty made them really beautiful. All were peaceful and calm, except the old Woman. In spite of the assurance of her husband, that her hand could diminish no farther, while the Lamp shone on it, she asserted more than once, that if things went on thus, before midnight this noble member would have utterly vanished.

the Basket, whose mild light they had scarcely observed till now; they lifted it at both sides, and it grew still larger and more luminous; they lifted the body of the Youth into it, laying the Canary-bird upon his breast; the Basket rose into the air and hovered above the old Woman's head, and she followed the Will-o'wisps on foot. The fair Lily took Mops on her arm, and followed the Woman; the Man with the Lamp concluded the procession, and the scene was curiously illuminated by these many lights.

But it was with no small wonder that the party saw, when they approached the River, a glorious arch mount over it, by which the helpful Snake was affording them a glittering path. If by day they had admired the beautiful transparent precious stones, of which the Bridge seemed formed; by night they were astonished at its gleaming brilliancy. On the upper side the clear circle marked itself sharp against the dark sky, but below, vivid beams were darting to the centre, and exhibiting the airy firmness of the edifice. The procession slowly moved across it; and the Ferryman who saw it from his hut afar off, considered with astonishment the gleaming circle, and the strange lights which were passing over it.

No sooner had they reached the other shore, than the arch began, in its usual way, to swag up and down, and with a wavy motion to approach the water. The Snake then came on land, the Basket placed itself upon the ground, and the Snake again drew her circle around it. The old Man stooped towards her, and said:

The Man with the Lamp had listened attentively to the conversation of the Lights; and was gratified that Lily had been cheered, in some measure, and amused by it. And, in truth, midnight had arrived they knew not how. The old Man looked to the stars, and then began speaking: "We are assembled at the pro-"What hast thou resolved on?" pitious hour; let each perform his task, let each do his duty; and a universal happiness will swallow up our individual sorrows, as a universal grief consumes individual joys."

At these words arose a wondrous hubbub† for all the persons in the party spoke aloud, each for himself, declaring what they had to do; only the three maids were silent; one of them had fallen asleep beside the harp, another near the parasol, the third by the stool; and you could not blame them much, for it was late. The Fiery youths, after some passing compliments which they devoted to the waiting-maids, had turned their sole attention to the Princess, as alone worthy of exclusive homage.

"Take the mirror," said the Man to the Hawk; "and with the first sunbeam illuminate the three sleepers, and awake them, with light reflected from above."

"To sacrifice myself rather than be sucrificed," replied the Snake; "promise me that thou wilt leave no stone on shore."

The old Man promised; then addressing Lily: "Touch the Snake," said he, "with thy left hand, and thy lover with thy right." Lily knelt, and touched the Snake, and the Prince's body. The latter in the instant seemed to come to life; he moved in the basket, nay he raised himself into a sitting posture; Lily was about to clasp him; but the old Man held her back, and himself assisted the youth to rise, and led him forth from the Basket and the circle.

The Prince was standing; the Canary-bird was fluttering on his shoulder; there was life again in both of them, but the spirit had not yet returned; the fair youth's eyes were open, yet he did not see, at least he seemed to look on all without participation. Scarcely had their admiration of this incident a little calm

The Snake now began to move; she loosened, when they observed how strangely it had ed her circle, and rolled slowly, in large rings, forward to the River. The two Will-o'-wisps followed with a solemn air; you would have taken them for the most serious Flames in na

Have not your march-of-intellect Literators al

ways expressed themselves particularly ravished with any glitter from a veil of Hope; with "progress of the species," and the like ?-D. T.

Too true: dost thou not hear it, Reader? In this our Revolutionary "twelfth hour of the night," all persons speak aloud (some of them by cannon and drums!) "declaring what they have to do;" and Faith, Hope, and Charity (after a few passing compliments from the Belles-Lettres Department,) thou seest, have fallen asleep!-D. T.

fared in the meanwhile with the Snake. Her fair taper body had crumbled into thousands and thousands of shining jewels: the old Woman reaching at her Basket had chanced to come against the circle; and of the shape or Structure of the Snake there was now nothing to be seen, only a bright ring of luminous jewels was lying in the grass.t

*Well he might, worthy old man; as Pope Pius, for example, did, when he lived in Fontainbleau!--D. T.— As our Bishops, when voting for the Reform Bill?-0. Y.

+ So: Your Logics, mechanical Philosophies, Politics, Sciences, your whole modern System of THOUGHT, is

The old Man forth with set himself to gather said the mixed King." We shall see," replied the stones into the basket; a task in which his the Man; "for the time is at hand." wife assisted him. They next carried the Bas- The fair Lily fell upon the old Man's neck, ket to an elevated point on the bank; and here and kissed him cordially. "Holy Sage!" the man threw its whole lading, not without cried she, "a thousand times I thank thee; contradiction from the fair one and his wife, for I hear that fateful word the third time." who would gladly have retained some part of She had scarcely spoken, when she clasped it, down into the River. Like gleaming twink- the old Man still faster; for the ground began ling stars the stones floated down with the to move beneath them; the Youth and the waves; and you could not say whether they old Woman also held by one another; the lost themselves in the distance, or sank to the Lights alone did not regard it.

bottom.

"Gentlemen," said he with the Lamp, in a respectful tone to the Lights, "I will now show you the way, and open you the passage; but you will do us an essential service, if you please to unbolt the door, by which the Sanctuary must be entered at present, and which none but you can unfasten."

You could feel plainly that the whole Temple was in motion; as a ship that softly glides away from the harbour, when her anchors are lifted; the depths of the Earth seemed to open for the Building as it went along. It struck on nothing; no rock came in its way.

For a few instants, a small rain seemed to drizzle from the opening of the dome; the old The Lights made a stately bow of assent, Man held the fair Lily fast, and said to her: and kept their place. The old Man of the Lamp "We are now beneath the River: we shall went foremost into the rock, which opened at soon be at the mark." Ere long they thought his presence; the Youth followed him, as if the Temple made a halt; but they were in an mechanically; silent and uncertain, Lily kept error; it was mounting upwards.

at some distance from him; the old Woman And now a strange uproar rose above their would not be left, and stretched out her hand heads. Planks and beams in disordered comthat the Light of her husband's Lamp_might|bination now came pressing and crashing still fall upon it. The rear was closed by the in, at the opening of the dome. Lily and the two Will-o'-wisps, who bent the peaks of their Woman started to a side; the Man with the flames towards one another, and appeared to Lamp laid hold of the Youth, and kept standbe engaged in conversation.

They had not gone far till the procession halted in front of a large brazen door, the leaves of which were bolted with a golden lock. The Man now called upon the Lights to advance; who required small entreaty, and with their pointed flames soon ate both bar

and lock.

ing still. The little cottage of the Ferryman, for it was this which the Temple in ascending had severed from the ground and carried up with it, sank gradually down, and covered the old Man and the Youth.

The women screamed aloud, and the Temple shook, like a ship running unexpectedly aground. In sorrowful perplexity, the PrinThe brass gave a loud clang, as the doors cess and her old attendant wandered round the sprang suddenly asunder; and the stately cottage in the dawn; the door was bolted, and figures of the Kings appeared within the Sanc- to their knocking, no one answered. They tuary, illuminated by the entering Lights. All knocked more loudly, and were not a little bowed before these dread sovereigns, especially struck, when at length the wood began to ring. the Flames made a profusion of the daintiest

reverences.

After a pause, the gold King asked: "Whence come ye?"-" From the world," said the old Man." Whither go ye?" said the silver King. -"Into the world," replied the Man.-" What would ye with us?" cried the brazen King. "Accompany you," replied the Man.

By virtue of the Lamp locked up in it, the hut had been converted from the inside to the outside into solid silver. Ere long too its form changed; for the noble metal shook aside the accidental shapes of planks, posts, and beams, and stretched itself out into a noble case of beaten ornamented workmanship. Thus a fair little temple stood erected in the middle of the large one; or if you will, an Altar worthy of the Temple.*

The composite King was about to speak, when the gold one addressed the Lights, who had got too near him: "Take yourselves away By a stair which ascended from within, the from me, my metal was not made for you." noble Youth now mounted aloft, lighted by the Thereupon they turned to the silver King, and old man with the Lamp; and, as it seemed, clasped themselves about him; and his robe supported by another, who advanced in a glittered beautifully in their yellow brightness. white short robe, with a silver rudder in his "You are welcome," said he, "but I cannot hand; and was soon recognised as the Ferryfeed you; satisfy yourselves elsewhere, and man, the former possessor of the cottage. bring me your light." They removed; and The fair Lily mounted the outer steps, which gliding past the brazen King who did not seem led from the floor of the Temple to the Altar; to notice them, they fixed on the compounded but she was still obliged to keep herself apart King. "Who will govern the world?" cried from her Lover. The old Woman, whose he with a broken voice." He who stands up- hand in the absence of the Lamp had grown on his feet," replied the old Man.-"I am he,"

to decease; and old ENDEAVOUR, "grasping at her basket," shall "come against" the inanimate remains, and "only a bright ring of luminous jewels" shall be left there! Mark well, however, what next becomes of it.-D. T.

Good! The old Church, shaken down "in disordered combination," is admitted, in this way, into the new perennial Temple of the Future; and, clarified into enduring silver, by the Lamp, becomes an Altar worthy to stand there. The Ferryman too is not forgotten.D. T.

still smaller, cried: "Am I then to be unhappy | During this progress, the old Man had careafter all? Among so many miracles, can there be nothing done to save my hand?" Her husband pointed to the open door, and said to her: "See, the day is breaking; haste, bathe thyself in the River."-"What an advice!" cried she; "it will make me all black; it will make me vanish altogether; for my debt is not yet paid." "Go," said the man," and do as I advise thee: all debts are now paid."

waiting-maids of Lily; but the fourth, more beautiful than any of the rest, was an unknown fair one, and in sisterly sportfulness she hastened with them through the Temple, and mounted the steps of the Altar.*

"Wilt thou have better trust in me another time, good wife!" said the man with the Lamp to the fair one: "Well for thee, and every living thing that bathes this morning in the River!"

The renewed and beautified old Woman, of whose former shape no trace remained, embraced with young eager arms the man with the Lamp, who kindly received her caresses. "If I am too old for thee," said he, smiling, "thou mayest choose another husband to-day; from this hour no marriage is of force, which is not contracted anew."

He was walking straight to the door of the Temple, when all at once in the middle of the court, he halted, and was fixed to the ground. He stood there like a strong colossal statue, of reddish glittering stone, and his shadow point ed out the hours, which were marked in a circle on the floor around him, not in numbers, but in noble and expressive emblems. Much delighted was the King to see the monster's shadow turned to some useful purpose; much astonished was the Queen; who, on mounting from within the Altar, decked in royal pomp with her virgins, first noticed the huge figure, which almost closed the prospect from the Temple to the Bridge.

Meanwhile the people had crowded after the Giant, as he ceased to move; they were walking round him, wondering at his metamorphosis. From him they turned to the Temple, which they now first appeared to notice,† and

"Dost thou not know, then," answered she, "that thou too art grown younger ?"-" It delights me if to thy young eyes I seem a hand-pressed towards the door. some youth: I take thy hand anew, and am well content to live with thee another thousand years."+

The Queen welcomed her new friend, and went down with her into the interior of the altar, while the King stood between his two men, looking towards the bridge, and attentively contemplating the busy tumult of the people.

At this instant the Hawk with the mirror soared aloft above the dome; caught the light of the sun, and reflected it upon the group, which was standing on the altar. The King, the Queen, and their attendants, in the dusky concave of the Temple, seemed illuminated by a heavenly splendour, and the people fell upon their faces. When the crowd had recovered and risen, the King with his followers had descended into the Altar, to proceed by secret passages into his palace; and the multitude

curiosity. The three Kings that were standing erect they viewed with astonishment and reverence; but the more eager were they to discover what mass it could be that was hid behind the hangings, in the fourth niche; for by some hand or another, charitable decency had spread over the resting-place of the Fallen King a gorgeous curtain, which no eye can penetrate, and no hand may dare to draw aside.

The people would have found no end to their gazing and their admiration, and the crowding multitude would have even suffocated one another in the Temple, had not their attention been again attracted to the open space.

But his satisfaction did not last; for ere long he saw an object which excited his displeasure. The great Giant, who appeared not yet to have awoke completely from his morn-dispersed about the Temple to content their ing sleep, came stumbling along the Bridge, producing great confusion all around him. As usual, he had risen stupified with sleep, and had meant to bathe in the well-known bay of the River; instead of which he found firm land, and plunged upon the broad pavement of the Bridge. Yet although he reeled into the midst of men and cattle in the clumsiest way, his presence, wondered at by all, was felt by none; but as the sunshine came into his eyes, and he raised his hands to rub them, the shadows of his monstrous fists moved to and fro behind him with such force and awkwardness, that men and beasts were heaped together in great masses, were hurt by such rude contact, and in danger of being pitched into the River.+ The King, as he saw this mischief, grasped with an involuntary movement at his sword; but he bethought himself, and looked calmly at his sceptre, then at the Lamp and the Rudder of his attendants. "I guess thy thoughts," said the man with the Lamp; " but we and our gifts are powerless against this powerless monster. Be calm! He is doing hurt for the last time, and happily his shadow is not turned to us." Meanwhile the Giant was approaching nearer; in astonishment at what he saw with open eyes, he had dropt his hands; he was now doing no injury, and came staring and agape into the fore-court.

Mark what comes of bathing in the TIME-River, at the entrance of a New Era !-D. T.

And so REASON and ENDEAVOUR being once more married, and in the honey-moon, need we wish them joy-D. T.

Thou rememberest the Catholic Relief Bill; witnessest the Irish Education Bill? Hast heard, five hundred times, that the "Church" was "in Danger," and now at length believest it 1-D. T.-Is D. T. of the Fourth Estate, and Popish-Infidel, then ?-O. Y.

Unexpectedly some gold-pieces, as if falling from the air, came tinkling down upon the marble flags; the nearest passers-by rushed thither to pick them up; the wonder was repeated several times, now here, now there. It is easy to conceive that the shower proceeded from our two retiring Flames, who wished to have a little sport here once more, and were thus gaily spending, ere they went away, the gold which they had licked from the members of the sunken King. The people still ran eagerly about, pressing and pulling one another, even when the gold had ceased to fall. At length they gradually dispersed, and went their way; and to the present hour the Bridge is swarming with travellers, and the Temple is the most frequented on the whole Earth.

Bravo!-D. T.

+ Now first; when the beast of a SUPERSTITION-Giant has got his quietus. Right:-D. T.

It is the Temple of the whole civilized earth. Finally, may I take leave to consider this Mährchen as the deepest Poem of its sort in existence; as the only true Prophecy emitted for who knows how many centuries 1 -D. T.-Certainly: England is a free country.-O. X.

DIDEROT.

[FOREIGN QUARTERLY REVIEW, 1833.]

THE Acts of the Christian Apostles, on which, as we may say, the world has now for eighteen centuries had its foundation, are written in so small a compass, that they can be read in one little hour. The Acts of the French Philosophes, the importance of which is already fast exhausting itself, lie recorded in whole acres of typography, and would furnish reading for a lifetime. Nor is the stock, as we see, yet anywise complete, or within computable distance of completion. Here are Four quite new Octavos, recording the labours, voyages, victories, amours, and indigestions of the Apostle Denis: it is but a year or two since a new contribution on Voltaire came before us; since Jean Jacques had a new Life written for him; and then of those Feuilles de Grimm, what incalculable masses may yet lie dormant in the Petersburgh Library, waiting only to be awakened and let slip!-Reading for a lifetime? Thomas Parr might begin reading in long-clothes, and stop in his last hundred and fiftieth year without having ended. And then, as to when the process of addition will cease, and the Acts and Epistles of the Parisian Church of Antichrist will have completed themselves; except in so far as the quantity of paper written on, or even manufactured, in those days being finite and not infinite, the business one day or other must cease, and the Antichristian Canon close for the last time,we yet know nothing.

of both sexes; or else, what were far better, sweep their Novel-fabric into the dust-cart, and betake them with such faculty as they have to understand and record what is true,— of which, surely, there is, and will for ever be, a whole Infinitude unknown to us, of infinite importance to us! Poetry, it will more and more come to be understood, is nothing but higher Knowledge; and the only genuine Romance (for grown persons) Reality. The Thinker is the Poet, the Seer: let him who sees write down according to his gift of sight; if deep and with inspired vision, then creatively, poetically; if common, and with only uninspired, every-day vision, let him at least be faithful in this and write Memoirs.

On us still so near at hand, that Eighteenth century in Paris presenting itself nowise as portion of the magic web of Universal History, but only as the confused and ravelled mass of threads and thrums, ycleped Memoirs, in process of being woven into such,-imposes a rather complex relation. Of which, however, as of all such, the leading rules may be happily comprised in this very plain one, prescribed by Nature herself: to search in them, so far as they seem worthy, for whatsoever can help us forward on our own path, were it in the shape of intellectual instruction, of moral edification, nay of mere solacement and amusement. The Bourbons, indeed, took a shorter method, (the like of which has been often recommended elsewhere;) they shut up and hid the graves of the Philosophes, hoping that their lives and writings might likewise thereby go out of sight, and out of mind; and thus the whole business would be, so to speak, suppressed. Foolish Bourbons! These things were not done in a corner, but on high places, before the anxious eyes of all mankind: hidden they can in nowise be to conquer them, to resist them, our first indispensable preliminary is to see and comprehend them. To us, indeed, as their immediate successors, the right comprehension of them is of prime necessity; for, sent of God or of the Devil, they have plainly enough gone before us, and left us such and such a world: it is on ground of their tillage, with the stubble of their harvest standing on it, that we now have to plough. Before all things then, let us understand what ground it is; what manner of men and hus

Meanwhile, let us nowise be understood as lamenting this stupendous copiousness, but rather as viewing it historically with patience, and indeed with satisfaction. Memoirs, so long as they are true, how stupid soever, can hardly be accumulated in excess. The stupider they are, let them simply be the sooner cast into the oven; if true, they will always instruct more or less, were it only in the way of confirmation and repetition; and, what is of vast moment, they do not mis-instruct. Day after day looking at the high destinies which yet await Literature, which Literature will ere long address herself with more decisiveness than ever to fulfil, it grows clearer to us that the proper task of Literature lies in the domain of BELIEF; within which "Poetic Fiction," as it is charitably named, will have to take a quite new figure, if allowed a settlement there. Whereby were it not reasonable to prophesy that this exceeding great multi-bandmen these were. For which reason, be tude of Novel-writers, and such like, must (in a new generation) gradually do one of two things either retire into nurseries, and work for children, minors, and semi-fatuous persons

1. Mémoires, Correspondance, et Ouvrages inédits de Diderot; publiés d'après les manuscrits confiés, en mourante, par l'auteur à Grimm. 4 tom. 8vo. Paris, 1831.

2. Euvres de Denis Diderot; procédées de Mémoires historiques et philosophiques sur sa Vie et ses Ouvrages, par J. A. Naigeon. 22 tom. 8vo. Paris, 1821.

all authentic Philosophe-Memoirs welcome, each in its kind! For which reason, let us now, without the smallest reluctance, penetrate into this wondrous Gospel according to Denis Diderot, and expatiate there to see whether it will yield us aught.

In any phenomenon, one of the most important moments is the end. Now this epoch of the Eighteenth or Philosophe-century was pro