the danger which had threatened them Friedbert followed them with his eyes, and, certain that his plan had succeeded, determined to assume the appearance of sanctity; and lighting his lamp, in order to attract the beautiful nightly wanderer, knelt in his grotto and seemed to count his beads with religious attention. A few months after this, father Bruno was laid flight, as though full of terror, and conscious of in the silent grave by his adopted son. All the inhabitants of the neighbouring mountains deeply lamented his loss, and performed frequent pilgrimages to the spot where he was interred.Time, however, diminished the crowds that resorted to this holy sepulchre; but solitude suited Friedbert's romantic disposition, and he rejoiced at the liberty he enjoyed. At length the summer solstice appeared, and the young hermit never failed to repair every morning and evening to the cabin of reeds, and attentively contemplated the smooth surface of the lake. Long did he wait in vain, but at last he perceived, about noon, three handsome swans, that wheeled their majestic flight at an uncommon elevation above the glassy waters, as though desirous to ascertain whether any mortal were lurking in ambush. The reeds effectually screened Friedbert from their glances, and they descended slowly into the bosom of the lake. || When, in a few minutes, three young virgins, holding each other by the hand, appeared sporting amidst the cooling waves, and presented the loveliest group which ever greeted the sight of man. He presently heard a slight noise, like that of a timid footstep, which feared to betray itself while treading on the yielding sand. The wily hermit appeared still more wrapped in prayer; but, at length, perceiving he was observed, he slowly arose, and cast his eyes towards the door. He then beheld his lovely prisoner, decked in all the charms of her age and sex; with a countenance that expressed the liveliest sorrow, and the pangs of alarmed modesty. The first glance captivated the affections of the tender Friedbert; and when her delicate lips opened to address him, he listened enraptured to her melodious voice, but could not understand the words she spoke, her language being quite unknown to him. He, however, guessed that she was entreating him to return her the plumage which he had stolen, but feigned not to comprehend her, and only sought to make her sensible that her virtue had nothing to fear while under his protection. He shewed her a neat and comfortable bed in a separate part of the grotto, presented her some excellent fruits and preserves, and attempted by every means in his power, to win her con After having displayed the beauty and elegance of their shape in a thousand playful attitudes, the ravishing strangers began to sing.But though filled with the liveliest sensations of delight, Friedbert did not yield to the pleasing intoxication; and recollecting Bruno's advice, softly quitted his shelter, and stealing unperceived to the shore, snatched the dazzling plu-fidence. mage, which the agitation of the water had rolled at his feet. Near it he perceived habits of seagreen and flesh-colours; but as the plumage was But the afflicted maiden seemed unconscious of all around her, and abandoning herself to grief sobbed aloud. The good-natured hermit was so affected at witnessing the sorrow which he had occasioned, that he could not refrain from tears; and played his part so well, that the lovely stranger seemed to feel some consolation from the sympathy which he expressed. She no longer suspected him of having taken her plumage, but mentally entreated his forgive- || ness for having accused him. She now wished to discover some means by which she might make her benevolent host comprehend the cause of her grief. The first night was spent in sadness; but at the first dawning of the morning Friedbert performed his usual devotions, which the young stranger was not displeased to observe. She even partook of some breakfast with him, and then hastened to seek, on the banks of the lake, for her lost plumage, which she at last fancied had been carried away by the light breath of the evening gale. The officious hermit seemed as active as herself in searching for her treasure, which he knew very well was not in her power to discover. This employment renewed in some degree the grief of the beautiful descendant of the fairy race; but the blood which warms their veins flows more cheerfully than that of mortals; sorrow is soon effaced from their hearts, like the shades of night from the surface of the earth. By degrees she became accustomed to her situation, and her countenance brightened like the sky after a summer's shower. She likewise felt reconciled to the companion of her solitude, and her eyes sometimes rested with pleasure on the animated and pleasing countenance of the young hermit. He observed this with internal joy;|| and, by every attention that love could suggest, sought to deserve and increase the favourable sentiments she already evinced for him. Love had metamorphosed the common good sense of the soldier into a refined understanding, and had given him the faculty of fathoming all the bidden recesses of the female heart; it also inspired them with the means of comprehending each other. It was, however, long before Friedbert's curiosity could be gratified respecting the young stranger's country, name, and condition in life; but by the assistance of their new language, he learned at length that the fair maid was a Grecian, but his pleasure and surprise greatly encreased when he discovered that she owed her birth to Prince Zeus and the lovely Zoe, of Naxos, so long the object of Bruno's attach ment. "And now, my good father," continued she, "tell me how you came acquainted with the virtue of the lake; and why my mother warned me and my sisters to avoid the western bath? Had she met with a similar misfortune? We were sent every year to the sources of the Nile, but my mother never accompanied us; for my father, tormented by jealousy, strictly confined her, preferring the loss of her charms to the possibility of her preserving them for any one but himself. This prohibition has entirely deprived her of her youth and beauty. My father is now dead, and my mother spends her widowhood in cheerless solitude; we lived with her, far removed from my uncle's court, who has succeeded our father in the government of the Cyclades, and never quitted her but during our journies to the fairy baths. My eldest sisters took, a few years ago, the imprudent determination of steering their flight towards the west, against my mother's advice. During this journey, which we carefully concealed from her, we met with no accident; and as we were less incommoded by the heat of the sun than when we crossed the Desarts of Egypt, we continued to repair to this lake until I be came the victim of my sisters' folly. "Where does that wicked magician conceal himself," continued the maid, "who watched the nymphs in the bath, to steal a plumage which can prove of no utility to him? Conjure him, holy man, to descend from the regions of the sky, if they be his dwelling, or rise from the bosom of the earth, and command him to restore. me that invaluable treasure which distinguishes my race from the rest of mortals." Pleased with Calista's error, for such was the name of the fair Grecian, Friedbert related to her the wild frolics of the Prince of the Genii, who, he affirmed, took a malicious delight in tormenting the bathers. He told her also that he had no power over spirits; but he had heard of a certain sylph, who had likewise lost her feathers, but found a faithful lover, who dispelled every feeling of regret. Comfort seemed to drop from the lips of the youth; yet, notwithstanding the beauties which nature had strewed around, their solitude appeared tiresome; but no sooner had the complaisant hermit been made acquainted with the wishes of her heart, than he declared his readiness to for. sake the lonely grotto; but at the same time in. formed her that nothing could indemnify him for this sacrifice, but domestic happiness in the arms of a virtuous wife. While uttering these last words, he fixed his eyes on her with such expressive tenderness, that his meaning was no longer doubtful. She blushed and looked down, but Friedbert understood her answer. From that moment he exerted himself in making the necessary preparations for their departure; and after having resumed his military garb, set off with his lovely companion for Suabia. In this province there is a small town called Eglisau, there Friedbert's mother resided. Not having heard from her son for so long a time, she concluded that he had been killed in battle; and never failed to bestow a trifle on every maimed soldier who stopped before her door on his return from the army. She asked a thousand questions about her dear Friedbert; and often did an artful invalid impose on her some story respecting her son,-told her how bravely he had fought and honourably fallen, and how many blessings he had sent her with his dying breath. She then never failed to set before him a bottle of her best wine, while tears fell from her eyes, and her heart throbbed with grief. A messenger on horseback at last announced one day that the brave Friedbert had not perished in the wars, but was returning to his native land crowned with riches which he had won in the east, from which place he had brought back a bride of exquisite beauty, the Sultan of Egypt's daughter, with immense treasures for her por tion. Such were the modest reports of fame, yet they were not without some foundation; he had found in Bruno's grotto a sum large enough to support the rank of a knight, and augmented his suite as he approached the place of his nativity. He had purchased horses superbly caparisoned, and wore, as well as the lovely Calista, the most splendid apparel. When the inhabitants of Augsburg saw the cavalcade passing through their streets, they hailed their brother citizen with shouts of joy. || His relations, even to his tenth cousins, as well as a large party of his townsmen, headed by the magistrates, advanced to meet him, with the city flag unfurled, while bagpipes and hautboys proclaimed his arrival. Joy and pride sparkled in the eyes of Friedbert's mother as she embraced her son. She gave a great entertainment, to which all her friends were invited, and distributed among the poor the whole contents of her purse. The town resounded with the praises of the beautiful Grecian; and many knights, who were great admirers of beauty, eagerly sought Friedbert's acquaintance. One called him his fellow-soldier, another his old friend, a third his cousin, and all were profuse in his protestations of friendship. The object of his former passion had been for some time married, and therefore her family was no longer exasperated against our young soldier; and since he had acquired riches, he also found means of palliating his conduct towards his captain. The fair stranger alone occupied all his thoughts; and as she saw so prospect of ever returning to her own country, she felt no reluctance in becoming the bride of a young man in the bloom of youth, and who appeared now to much advantage since he had changed the hermit's cloak for the dress of a knightShe, therefore, overlooked the difference of their rank, and consented to bestow her hand upon him. The wedding clothes were purchased, the hour fixed, and the good mother had superintended all the preparations for the festival, when the day previous to the ceremony the bridegroom went on horseback, according to the custom of the country, to give invitations to his friends. Calista, meanwhile tried on her splendid dress, but perceiving something which required to be altered, sent for her mother-in-law to ask her advice. When the old woman approached, she burst forth into exclamations of praise upon the beauty, elegance and grace of her daughter, and at last on the habit itself, but when she perceived that Calista's opinion differed from hers, she immediately changed her tone, lest she should betray her ignorance of the prevailing fashions. The young Grecian's chief objection rested on the aukward form of her head-dress. "Why," said she, sighing, "have I not on my wedding day my beautiful feathers, as light and dazzling as flakes of descending snow. I should have proved an object of envy to all the young maidens of the city, and then indeed you might have praised my beauty. This ornament of my country women is no longer mine, and I have lost the jewel which spreads resistless charms over its possessor, and captivates the heart of every beholder." A tear, the child of painful recollection, stole down Calista's check as she spoke these words, and the kind heart of her mother-in-law was melted, and she could no longer refrain from betraying a secret, which had been entrusted to her, and which she had long wished to reveal. Her son had related to her how he had acquired the plumage without telling her its properties, and had consigned it to her care as a pledge of affection, enjoining her to conceal it from every eye. Pleased with this opportunity of communicating her secret; "weep not, my dear child," she exclaimed, "the brightness of your eyes must not be dimmed with tears, and regret spoil the joys of your wedding day. Your feathers are perfectly safe, they are in my possession, and since you long so much for them, I will instantly restore them to you, provided you promise not to betray me to your husband." Calista remained mute with astonishment; she felt the most lively joy at finding her lost plumage, and the bitterest resentment at the deception which Friedbert had practised upon her. She had, however, recovered in some degree from her surprize, when the old woman returned, and hastily snatching the snowy feathers from her || panding her silver wings, took her flight and hands, she opened the window and fixed them bade adieu to Friedbert's abode. on. No sooner had they touched her shoulders than she resumed the form of a swan, and ex [To be concluded in our next.] FAMILIAR LECTURES ON USEFUL SCIENCES. ON THE POWER OF MUSIC UPON ANIMALS; With an Account of the Concert given to two Elephants at the Botanic Garden in Paris, on the 29th May, 1798. In a Letter to a Friend, dated the 7th of August following. "Natura ducimur ad modos." You wish to be informed particularly what effects music produced on the Elephants, those animals whose social instinct and habitudes are at all times very apt to pique our curiosity. You think that the experiment of giving pleasure to a sensible being is certainly better than that of giving it pain: I am of your opinion; and, under favour of the learned Haller, and all those physiologists who have worked like him, I believe it is more rational, and above all more humane, to study the springs and functions of life, in life itself, than to seek them in death, or in the convulsions of an expiring animal. Be this as it may, I thank those artists, who, armed, not with scalpels and instruments of torture, but with hautboys, flutes, and fiddles, came to exercise the charm of their art, on two beings endowed with sentiment; to loosen their natural faculties which slavery holds in chains; to excite and calm them alternately; to revive in their wild mind the instinct of their native country; and at last to conduct them, by means of the accents of joy and tenderness to the illusions of that love, which to be fully satisfied will bear no witnesses; in truth a deceitful enjoyment, but which, at least give a glimpse of the manner in which those animals fulfil the functions to which nature calls them for the multiplication of their species. For this lively demonstration, such as can never be seen on anatomical theatres, we are indebted to the talents of thirteen of the most distinguished musicians in Paris, chiefly attached to the conservatory of music. The orchestra was placed out of sight of the Elephants, in a gallery above the place they were kept in, and round a large circular trap door, which was not opened till the moment the concert began. In order to give more liberty to the motions of Hans and Margaret, for so they are called, the enjoyment of both the apartments which compose their habitation was left to them, so that they being ready, and the instruments in tune, all was silent, and the trap-door was lifted up without noise, whilst to improve the effect of the surprise, their cornace or keeper gave them cakes and other dainties, to prevent their attending much to what was doing. The concert began with a trio for two violins and a bass, in B major, consisting of short airs with variations of a moderate character. No sooner were the first sounds heard than Hans and Peggy, lending an ear, left off eating; they soon ran towards the place from whence the sounds proceeded. The opening over their heads, the instruments of a strange form, of which they only perceived the extremities, the men floating as it were in the air, the invisible harmony, for which they attempted to feel, with their trunks, the silence of the spectators, the im. movable attitude of their cornac, all at first appeared to them subjects of curiosity, wonder and apprehension. They went round the trap-door, directing their trunks towards the opening, rising from time to time on their hind legs; approached their cornac, sought his caresses, returned with more uneasiness, gazed at the assistants, and seemed to examine whether there was not a snare laid for them. But those first emotions of fear were soon appeased, when they found every thing remained peaceable round them: then giving way without any mixture of dread to the impulse of sound, they seemed to feel no other sensations but what proceeded from the music. This alteration in their temper was particularly remarkable at the end of the trio, which the performers terminated with the famous Scythian dance in B minor, in the opera of Iphi genia in Tauride, by Gluck; music of a savage character strongly propounced, and which communicated all the agitation of its rhythmus to the Elephants. From their gait, sometimes precipitated, sometimes slackened, from their motions sometimes sudden, and at other times slow, it appeared as if they followed the undulations of the song and the measure. They often bit the bars of their cells, wrung them hard with their trunks, pressed them with the weight of their body, as if they wanted room to play in, and that they wished to enlarge the boundaries of their prison. Piercing cries, and whistlings escaped from them at intervals; is this from pleasure or from anger? was asked of the cornac: they not angry, answered he. This passion was calmed, or rather changed its object with the following air: O ma tendre Musette, performed in C minor, on the bassoon alone, without any accompaniment. The simple and ender melody of this romance, rendered still more plaintive by the melancholy accent of the bassoon, attracted them as it were by enchantment.-They marched a few paces, stopped to listen, returned and placed themselves under the orchestra, gently agitated their trunks, and seemed to respire its amorous emanations It must be remarked that during the performance of this air, they did not emit a single cry, nor received any determination extra neous to the music. Their motions were slow, measured, and partook of the softness of the tune. But the charm did not operate equally on both. Whilst Hans contained himself with his usual prudence and circumspection, Peggy, impassioned, caressingly flattered him with her long and flexible hand, which she passed and repassed over bis back, and on his neck, then over her own, touched her breasts with the finger at the extremity of her proboscis, and, as if that finger was imprinted with a more pressing and tender sentiment, she instantly carried it to her mouth, and afterwards into the ear of Hans, who did not attend to, or perhaps was still ignorant of that language. This dumb scene took all at once a character of transport and disorder from the gay and lively accents of the air Ca Ira, performed in D, by the whole band of musicians, and of which the effect was singularly heightened by the piercing sound of the small flute. From their transports, from their cries of joy, sometimes grave, at other times shrill, but always varied in their tones; from their whistlings, their goings and comings, it might have been supposed that the rhythmnus of that tune, which marches in i doubled time, pressed them hard, and forced them to follow its mood. The female redoubled her solicitations; her caresses were more demonstrative, her allurements more poignant; she often ran rapidly away from the male, and returned backwards, kicking him gently with her hind feet, to acquaint him she was there; but poor Peggy lost her labour. Happily for her the invisible power which troubled her senses, was likewise able to appease them The ins ruments were no longer playing, and she still followed their impulse, when like those refreshing rains which temper the summer heats, the soft harmony of two human voices descended from the orchestra like a cloud to calm her delirium. In the midst of her most lively transports, she was seen to moderate herself suddenly, to suspend gradually all her desires; and lastly to stand still, letting her trunk rest on the floor. The repose of which she reflected the in ge, was in an Adagio of the opera of Dardanus, "Plaintive Manes," sung by two voices, with all its accompaniments in B flat. These effects, however marvellous they may appear, have, notwith-tanding, nothing which ought to surprise us; if we reflect that the pas sions of animals, like human passions, have naturally a rhythmical character, absolute, independent of all education and habitude. In marking the movements which are suitable to those passions, and joining to them the proper accents, music revives and excites them; it changes and calms them at will, by combining the measure, the order, and the succession of those movements. To which we add, that the passions of animals owning no other law than nature, are always simple, and consequently more easily moved, directed and ruled than those of mankind, which are for the most part com posed, and participate more or less of cach other But nothing more strongly proves those relations, those intimate correspondencies of rhythmus and melody with the motions and actions of the passion than the indifference in which both our Elephants remained whilst the band was for the second time playing the air of Ca Ira, immediately after that of Dardanus, only changing the key from Do F. It was still the same tune, but it no longer re ained the same expression: it was still the same harmony, but it had lost its first energy; it was still the same relative duration of the measures, but those measures were less marked, and no longer indicated the same rhythmus. I pass rapidly over the following pieces, such as the overture of the Derin du Vulage, which excited them to gaiety; the song of Henri IV. |