man; "it is no wonder that you do not know me, for you have never seen me; but ask Tai, ask his worthy Amiua, and all these little children; there is not one of them but what knows my name. I have been living with them these fifteen years; I am quite at home here; and have been absent only one day, the day on which Amina lost her father; but I returned, and have made up my mind not again to stir a single step from hence. It will entirely rest with yourselves whether you will become acquainted with me. If it will give you pleasure, I shall be glad; if you don't care about it, I can do without it. I am not troublesome; I keep in my corner, never dispute, and detest noise." The three brothers, whose eyes were rivetted on the little old man, wished to embrace him. "O, softly !" said he," I do not like these violent raptures; I am delicate, and pressing me takes away my breath. Besides, before we come to embrace each other, we ought to be friends. If you wish us to be so, do not attend to me too much. I prefer liberty to politeness, and have a repugnance to every thing which passes the bounds of moderation." So saying, he rose from his chair, kissed each of the children on the forehead, made a slight bow to the three brothers, gave a smile to Amina and Tai, and then went to wait for them in their bed room.

Tai sat down again to table with his brothers, and ordered beds to be got ready for them. The next day, he shewed them his fields, his flocks, and his teams, and described to them the pleasures he enjoyed. Bekir wished to begin labouring immediately, and consequently he was the first who became the friend of Bathmendi. Mesrou, who had been prime minister, was head shepherd of the farm; and the poet took upon himself the charge of going to town, to sell the corn, wool, and milk, which his brothers sent to market; his eloquence gained customers, and he was no less useful than the others. In six month's time Bathmendi* grew attached to them, and their numerous and quiet days glided on sweetly in the bosom of happiness. R**.

It is hardly necessary to say, that Bathmendi, in Persian, means happiness.

FOR ARLISS'S POCKET MAGAZINE.

THE MAGIC ZONE;
OR,

ADVICE TO MARRIED LADIES.

Iu a Letter from a Brother to a recently married Sister. JOY to you, my dear Leonora, upon the accomplishment of all your own wishes, and those of a man who I believe is as dear to you as yourself; at least of one whose happiness is necessary to constitute yours. You are now entered into that state from whence, as our great poet says,

"Relations dear, and all the charities

Of father, son, and brother, first were known."

Par. Lost, B. IV.

Give me leave, therefore, as the tie of blood between us may in some measure authorise the freedom, and the friendship we have always had for each other still more, to mix with the unfeigned joy of congratulation the unrestrainable tenderness of a brother, and concern of a friend, in giving my advice to you in this scene of happiness. Nor think it any reflection upon the strength of your heart, that I should imagine I can in any way contribute to your felicity by admonition, which is not concerning your prudence (for, to free you at once from any pain of that sort, I really think it incapable of improvement) but relating to the observation of some inferior excellencies, which with the generality of your sex have past unregarded, but, give me leave to say, are as essentially necessary to preserve a husband's desires, as the more respectable duties of a wife,

'Tis not enough that a woman is a faithful domestic friend; she should daily study to invest herself with a hundred little enchanting graces, suitable to the disposition of the man she marries, if she would still retain those unspeakable charms, conceived only by lovers, with which she originally captivated his heart. This grand secret, my dear sister, lies in this short precept,

Never lose the mistress in the wife;" a text

of bullion sense, which an essay writer would wiredraw into twenty glittering pages. But as my design is, not to gain your applause of my talent as a writer, but to give a hint for the promotion of your happiness; to say more will be unnecessary, to say less would be unaffectionate.

I know some of our friends would rally me for laying so great a stress upon minute embellishments of mind and body; but I would soon stop the laughter of those gainsayers by the following fable, the truth of whose moral is as old and certain as the foundation of the world, though the story is my own invention.

Psyche, a virgin born in the island of Cyprus, grew enamoured of Cupid, the son of Venus. After making some unsuccessful attempts to inspire the little god with a mutual passion, she retired from the world to vent her complaints in melancholy solitude. There dwelt not far from Paphos, the metropolis of the country, a nymph called Taste, the daughter of one of the Graces, to whom the Virtues, Arts, Sciences, and even the goddess of the island herself, often resorted. For, without the assistance of some secret charms which she bestowed upon them, though they might sometimes perhaps coldly satisfy the world, their endeavours to enchant it were always ineffectual. Hither Psyche repaired, and having disclosed the cause of her uneasiness, supplicated the nymph in the most humble manner to relieve her distresses.

Taste, who never refused to comply with the petitions of her sincere votaries, heard the virgin's request with compassion; and having made up a zone of the same materials with which she had formerly composed the cestus of Venus, gave it to her with the following injunctions-"Take," said she," my dear Psyche, this magic zone, and wear it perpetually round you, from whose latent folds such an unspeakable power shall be added to your natural charms, that the disdainful god of soft desires shall not only be captivated with your beauty, as soon as he sees you, but shall be retained in a voluntary and pleasurable bondage as long as you preserve this mysterious pledge of my affection. Take the strictest care therefore of this inestimable treasure; for should you through neglect be so unfortu

nate as to lose it, Cupid has wings, and will make use of them to leave you."

Let it be sufficient to say, that Psyche bound the zone round her waist, and accordingly so far succeeded in her wishes, that Hymen, in his saffron robe, soon pronounced a happy union between her and the son of Venus.

Days, weeks, and months passed on in uninterrupted circles of still increasing raptures. If Psyche went into the meadows and groves to taste the tribute of the returning spring, Cupid was ever ready to wanton before her, and fill her lap with the choicest flowers and blossoms. If she was inclinable in the heat of summer to visit the rivers and fountains, his image was constantly mixed with hers in the floating mirror. Psyche now began to think her zone useless, and a troublesome incumbrance; therefore, being one day fatigued with the usual sports of the country, she loosened the golden studs with which it was fastened round her waist, and threw it disdainfully into the passing river. Very few days passed after this, before she perceived a visible alteration in the affections of her adored Cupid; his eyes no longer languished on her's with ineffable desire; his ears ceased, as they were wont, to be ravished with the music of her tongue; and a civil indifference soon succeeded to the heretofore glowing language of extacy. By degrees her company became more and more displeasing to him, till at length a total disgust having seized his fancy, he spread his rosy wings in air, and for ever left the detested habitation of his once-beloved Psyche.

J.G.C.

THE PERIPATETICS: A FRAGMENT.

ALL those persons to whom genius may have imparted a portion of her celestial fire, and who are in the habit of taking the Cockney voyage to Margate, &c, may perhaps find among the number of their agreeable reminiscences, that of their having been becalmed on the river on a beautiful summer's evening. They may

perhaps recal to mind that sweet tranquillity, that peaceful composure, that sacred calm, that stole over their senses, at the sight of the unruffled waters reflecting the silvery image of the moon, while the vessel seemed scarcely to move, and the fertile shores of the Thames appeared doubly pleasing from their distance, and the partial veil in which they were enveloped by the close of a brilliant midsummer's day; they may perhaps recollect those wanderings of thought, those fanciful musings, those pleasing reveries, which the romantic loneliness of such a situation, and the uniform silence around, engendered in their minds; if so, then will they have a correct idea of those feelings by which Charlotte and myself were influenced, as we quitted our becalmed bark, which had been anchored near to the shore, in order to spend an hour or two amidst the green retreats of Southend.

Those who have visited this place need not be reminded of its picturesque beauties; suffice it to say, that I, and my fair companion, as we traced our devious way, “with wandering steps and slow,” were by no means insensible to them, set off to advantage as they were by the soft splendour of a full and unclouded

moon.

"How beautiful this night!" exclaimed I, after a lapse of about ten minutes, in which we had both been silent,

"The balmiest sigh

Which vernal zephyrs breathe in evening's ear,
Were discord to the speaking quietude

That wraps this moveless scene.

Heaven's ebon vault,

Studded with stars unutterably bright,

Through which the moon's unclouded grandeur rolls,
Seems like a canopy which love had spread
To curtain her sleeping world."

"These," returned my companion, 66 are the ebullitions of a very ardent and youthful mind, that delighted to extend the fairy mantle which enwrapped itself to every object that came within its ken: but can you guess what my thoughts were employed upon when you thus interrupted them with your very poetical ejaculation?"

My dear friend," I answered, "I am indeed no