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® if his affairs are indifferent now, they will prosper better hereafter, and 'tis the end only that we are to attend to." " True, but in my opinion," cried Xarifa, “ a good beginning always make a good end.”
" That, I deny," returned Fatima, " and I make no doubt but you will also; I reason from this simile :-You must have both heard and seen the gallant at the commencement of a new amour, endeavour to serve his lady with the utmost attention, giving her daily fetes and serenades, and al. most idolizing 'her, he makes her a thousand promises of eternal constancy; that the sun shall sooner cease to gives its light, that his hand shall strike the moon from the heavens, or remove mountains, before he will forget her, and a thousand more such impossibilities; that all his intentions are honourable, and that he designs to marry her. At length the poor innocent is deceived, and falls a prey to his desires."
" Fine beginnings indeed,” cried Xarifa!« Well, what ensues? He has enjoyed the lady, and the first day that some cavalier passing through the street happens to bow to her, my gentleman cries out that he is her gallant, and that the maiden who forfeited her honour to him, would in like manner stoop to others, forgetting his own false oaths that first betrayed the unhappy fair one. Do but observe their treachery, Xarifa, if a ray of the sun even shines in at the window, they leave the fond believing woman a laughing stock, disho. noured and forgotten; a fine end this after so fair a beginning! you cannot call it a good one ?”.
“ No, certainly !" replied Xarifa, " and I confess you have represented nothing but truth; I know at this very time several young ladies of great beauty, but small fortune, who have been deceived
in this manner by gentlemen, and because they were poor, left to misery and disgrace. Young ladies of our age should not be over-confident ja their own judgment, and rather leave these matters to the better experience of their parents. But if you please, we will now cast a look towards the contending cavaliers."
Abenamar had, by this time, chosen another horse and lance; and vexed at his past failure, he spurred him briskly, and holding his lance steadily in his hand, quicker than thought filed it through the ring, and bore it away. The acclamations were now on his side.
Sarracino gallantly made his second attempt, and proceeded with great caution, but unfortunately he struck the side of the ring only." There is yet another lance to run," cried Abenamar, “ let us therefore, if you please, sir knight, finish our contest immediately.” Seizing a lance, therefore, Abenamar galloped towards the ring, and again dexterously bore it away.
Galiana was now highly disconcerted, seeing the little prospect her beloved Sarracino had of success, who in his last careet touched the top of the ring only with the point of his lance, and bore it not away.
Having alighted from his horse, the judges called Sarricano and pronounced that he had lost the por. trait of his lady and the rich scarf, Sarracino replied, “ if he had lost in sport, in manly combat he knew how to conquer.” Abenamar, highly piqued for the motives we have already expressed, replied, " that if he had any thought of recovering a part of his losses in manly combat, he should be glad to know it, as he was ready to do him all the justice he wished.” The judges and the umpires now interfered, and pacified the cavaliers,
not suffering so unreasonable a debate to proceed any further. Sarracino, therefore, withdrew from the square with the gentlemen of his train, and Abenamar commanded the rich spoils to be laid at the foot of Fatima's portrait, whose joy for the victory was extremely great, especially when she beheld the trophies of the challenger's dexterity, though she endeavoured as much as possible to prevent her satisfaction from appearing, not chusing that Abenamar should imagine himself entirely secure of her affection, wherein she did not in the least imitate other ladies of the court, whose whole delight was the pleasure of public admiration.
To the Editors of the Monthly Visitor.
V ou have, with much candour, interested your
x readers in behalf of a poet who has lately retired to the lonely grave, hut whose works will, like those of Ramsay, live till Scotland is no more. Thus much do I say with sincerity, although I will, ere long, take a wider survey of Burns' merits and demerits as a poet. I may just observe, that my strictures have not escaped reprehension--but it is the reprehension of a friend, and being such, it is for friendship's sake entitled to my protection, and to your's for its ingenuity. You have indecd donc ample justice to the luneful Burns ; there is another of Scotia's sons that calls for your ad. miration, your mead of praise-Ramsay-and there is another, an English bard, that seems with joy to court your smiles of welcomc, Bloomfield, than wbom a sweeter muse was never heard. I may be an enthusiast! and methink I was, when in my seven. teenth year I composed these observations, without being intimately acquainted with the Scottish dialect I submit them to your decision, and hope that decis sion will be favourable.
Act I. Our poet's prologue at once preposseses us in his favour. Can any thing he more engaging and descriptive than the following lines?
“ Beneath the south-side of a craigy bield, Where crystal springs their halesome waters yield; I wa youthfu' shepherds in the gowans lay, Tending their fiocks a'e boony morn of May!".
How impressive is Patie's exclamation, when he says
" This sunny morning, Robert, cheers my blood,
6 A mind thats scrimpt ne'er wants some care, is founded on truth-again
66 He that has just enough can soundly sleep;
The o'ercome only fashes fowk to keep" at once defines the absurdity of avarice, and displays the beauty of competence in livelier colours than the bewildering doctrine of volumes. · Roger's simple confession is truly characteristic of the little artifice so bashfully practised by village lovers. Sure it is, that this all-powersul passion is no where to be found, in its genuine nature, but in rural retreats, where innocence still takes delight to dwell. · Patie's advice to Roger cvinces a knowledge of the human character: and this, with the song that fol. lows, speaks indeed the language of the female heart.
There is in those amiable shepherds a frankness we cannot help admiring, and when they make re'spective presents, we feel a kindly vibration thrilling as it were in our bosoms. The poet must have been well acquainted with the impulses of friendship ; otherwise he would not have represented the two swains as feeling a glowing inclination to offer tokens of this cementing principle. .
This imagery is simple, just, and highly picturesque. Our attention is powerfully attracted by rustic simplici. ty, and soon are we endeared to the two rural nymphs. Even at first acquaintance with Peggy, our very heart is interested, and leels a warm anxiety for her happiness. O! how soon her innocence and frankness of heart evinces itself:
“ And when the day grows hot, will to the pool,
And swcetly cauler on sae warm a day.”
Daft lassie, when we're naked, what'll ye say,
In thc whole, this dialogue between Peggy and Jenny, is replete with jocular sentiment, and, if we mistake not, expresses the young maiden's thoughts not as they appear, but as they really are. Peggy's · 'vindication of the marriage-state is lively and sweetly persuasive. She pictures the joys accompanying it with an artless ingenuity, and with firmness shews Jenny the misery so connected with celibacy. It must, nevertheless, be admitted Jenny's scars are too well grounded.--Ah! this deplorable picturc is toq, too frequent'y realised