nothing. Aurelian, becoming aware of the fact, despatched his light-horse in quick pursuit. They overtook the fugitive just as she was entering a boat to cross the Euphrates, and led her back in captivity. When brought into the presence of Aurelian, he peremptorily demanded "How she had presumed to rise in arms against the Emperors of Rome?" Zenobia's answer was at once proud, respectful, and politic. “Because I disdained to consider as Roman Emperors those who have lately worn the purple. You, alone, I acknowledge as my conqueror and my Sovereign." Such was the submission of the Queen of the East. The capture of Zenobia was speedily followed by the surrender of her capital, including "arms, horses, and camels, with an immense treasure of gold, silver, silk, and precious stones." Palmyra was treated with great lenity. Aurelian was content to leave a garrison of six hundred archers to preserve his authority in a city which had so long resisted his arms, and which had been, in reality, independent since the reign of Valerian. With Zenobia and her leading counsellors and friends, the emperor retired to Emesa, where, in the name of justice, he inflicted those barbarities which tarnish whatever glory he had acquired in this campaign. the stern Roman could not discern had calmed and elevated the soul of Longinus. He was above the fear of death. He submitted himself to the fate the tyrant had decreed him to suffer, with a fortitude that honored his high thought; and while the executioner prepared him for the fatal stroke, he calmly counselled his fallen sovereign, and comforted his afflicted friends. History has charged Zenobia with the ingratitude of having purchased her own life by the sacrifice of her instructor and her friends. The charge is so inconsistent with her character, that I have taken some pains to investigate its authority. It seems to rest on the assertion of Zosimus, an historian whose veracity is none of the best, and whose statements Gibbon declines to adopt in many instances, though he seems to credit this accusation against the queen. I can only say that the charge is in utter violation of the generous disposition and intrepid bravery which are known to have characterized Zenobia above most of her contemporaries; and that the sacrifice of her counsellors to her own safety may be plausibly attributed to the policy of Aurelian, who might well be proud to retain such a personage to adorn his impending triumph. X.DOOM OF PALMYRA. We must now behold Zenobia in the captive train of the conqueror, making her humiliating journey to Rome. She has crossed the straits that divide Europe from Asia, and taken the last glance of her subjugated dominions. But her pride as a princess and her affection as a woman are destined to a new outrage. A swift courier arrives from Palmyra, with information that the citizens have massacred the Roman governor and garrison which Aurelian had left in charge of his conquest, and filled the provinces with revolution. No sooner was the Queen of the East arraigned before his judgment-seat, than the brutal soldiery clamored loudly for her instant execution. It required all the stern authority of Aurelian to restrain their pitiless fury. To atone, however, for the clemency which he extended to Zenobia, and to appease the bloody desires of the troops, he doomed her captive nobility to instant death. Prominent among these was Longinus, the disciple of Plato, and the queen's highest counsellor. The ignorant and sanguinary Aurelian was incapable of appreciating the lofty qualWith a fixed resolution of vengeance, ities of the philosopher; he knew not the indignant emperor turned his face that the life which he inconsiderately ex- back toward Syria. Antioch, which had tinguished was a mine of intellectual exhibited symptoms of rebellion, humilwealth to the world, infinitely more pre-iated itself at his approach; and defencecious than all the crowns that Rome had less Palmyra, as though generously rewon. But that mental greatness which solved not to survive her sovereign, was der. The ambassadors of the most remote parts of the earth,—of Ethiopia, Arabia, Persia, Bactriana, India, China, extinguished in Aurelian's bloody retribution. The pitiless barbarian made no distinction between the armed soldier and the defenceless woman; but immolated all remarkable for their rich and sinboth sexes and all ranks and ages to his gular dresses, displayed the fame and inhuman resentment. Only a meagre power of the Roman Emperor, who exremnant of that proud and cultivated posed likewise to the public view the population survived. The city was de- presents he had received, and particularly spoiled of its architectural grandeur and a great number of crowns of gold, the artistic beauty. It never recovered from offerings of grateful cities. the calamity. The spring of its energy was broken; the flower of its enterprise was withered. Aurelian, repenting too late his destructive vengeance, gave permission to rebuild the city, and lent his personal influence toward restoring a temple of the sun; but "it is easier to destroy than to restore;" and Palmyra declined more rapidly than it had risen, until, in the course of centuries, it became too obscure a town for recognition. A miserable village, consisting of thirty or forty families whose mud cottages are pitched within the court of a ruined temple, is all that now marks the site of Palmyra, once the seat of commerce, the home of letters, the refuge of Grecian art, and the pride of Zenobia. Such are the solemn changes wrought by the hand of Time, aided by the madness of human passion, on all that man cunningly contrives and laboriously constructs! XI. - ADORNS AURELIAN'S TRIUMPH. The crisis of Zenobia's destiny approaches. The triumphal procession of Aurelian makes its stately entrance into Rome. Never, since the foundation of the city was beheld a more imposing spectacle. Gibbon tells us, in one of his finest paragraphs, how "the pomp was opened by twenty elephants, four royal tigers, and above two hundred of the most curious animals, from every climate of the north, the east, and the south. They were followed by sixteen hundred gladiators, devoted to the cruel amusements of the amphitheatre. The wealth of Asia, the arms and ensigns of so many conquered nations, and the magnificent plate and wardrobe of the Syrian Queen, were disposed in exact symmetry or artful disor "The victories of Aurelian were attested by the long train of captives, who reluctantly attended his triumph,-Goths, Vandals, Sarmatians, Alemanni, Franks, Gauls, Syrians, and Egyptians. Each people was distinguished by their peculiar inscription; and the title of Amazons was bestowed on ten martial heroines of the Gothic nation, who had been taken in arms. But every eye, disregarding the crowd of captives, was fixed on the Queen of the East. The beauteous figure of Zenobia was confined by fetters of gold. A slave supported the gold chain which encircled her neck, and she almost fainted under the intolerable weight of jewels. She preceded, on foot, the magnificent chariot in which she once hoped to enter the gates of Rome. It was followed by two more chariots, still more sumptuous, of Odenathus and of the Persian monarch. The triumphal car of Aurelian” came next in order, and "the most illustrious of the Senate, the people, and the army, closed the solemn procession." Such was the manner in which Zenobia, the noblest and most renowned woman of her age, entered the capital of the Roman Empire. Such was the reward which Roman justice meted out to her whose courage in war, wisdom in government, and proficiency in learning, had contributed to the empire its most enduring glory! With the triumph of Aurelian, Zenobia ceases to be an historic character. The last time that she is present to the eye of the world is when she walks, amid the splendid wrecks of her kingdom, in that mournfully brilliant procession, and ornaments, with her fettered charms, the imposing pomp that ascends the capitol. The sequel of her history demands but a moment. In exchange for the kingdom which he had wrested from her, "the emperor presented Zenobia with an elegant villa at Tiber, or Tivoli, about twenty miles from the capital. The Syrian queen insensibly sunk into a Roman matron, her daughters married into noble families, and her race was not yet extinct in the fifth century." In closing the history of Zenobia, I am reminded that an American woman, parting hour, We should see each other nevermore in life! Oh, my darling, you will miss me, and your tears will fall like rain; But in heaven, when life's over, we shall meet and love again. with a genius kindred to that which the Ah, Mary! little thought we, in that last sad fair Syrian loved to foster, has sculptured her beauty in the pliant marble, and contributed to immortalize her glory and her misfortunes. It is pleasing to think that, in the immortal fellowship of fame, the genius of Miss Hosmer, reaching back, from America, through sixteen hundred years of history, locks hand with Zenobia, in the last decay of the ancient empires, and binds the new with the old, That my courage never faltered, when I faced in the kindred glory of illustrious womanhood. "Tell them, comrade, if you see them, that I dearly loved them all, And I ever strove to do my duty well; the rebel host; That for freedom and our starry flag I fell. And tell them not to mourn me, for I died as soldiers die; And that, when life is over, we shall meet beyond the sky. THE VISIONARY. By J. K. Fisher. BLAKE, the artist, was a visionary. He did not distinguish between what he saw and what he imagined. Many anecdotes of him used to be told among the artists when I was a student in England. Some of these artists are his acquaintances; and many of their reports concerning him have not yet found their way into print. Hoby called him the gentle visionary Blake, on account of his extraordinary amiability and inoffensiveness. All who knew him loved him, as they might have loved a child; and many were the comforts received from friends, without whose aid he and his wife might have suffered from hunger and cold. As an instance of Blake's habit of mixing fancies with facts, Hoby gives a letter which he received from him, describing a cottage that had been provided by a few friends, who asked him to have the benefit of the country during the hot season. The letter begins by a tolerably correct description; followed by expressions of gratitude to the friends whose kindness had given him the comfort, eulogizing them as among the few who were to make up the glorious and delightful society in the happy state to come; and gradually rises into the realm of imagination, and winds up the description of the cottage as a gorgeous palace, full of beauties that existing palaces could not rival. One day a friend called on him, and found him in his little parlor. "How happens it that you are not painting this clear day? I always have found you at work, in all weathers. Are you unwell, Blake?" "No; I'm well as ever; but my angel told me this morning that I must not work to-day. I remonstrated; he insisted; I dodged under his wing, and ran up to my painting-room; but when I got the door open, there he stood before me with his arms spread out. It's of no use, Blake,' said he, 'you must not work today;' so here I am." "Ah! well, I suppose angels know more than we know. Perhaps a day's rest may keep you from an ill-turn; I hope so, my dear Blake." "Thank you, my dear Antiquity" (the visitor was usually called Antiquity Smith, to distinguish him from other artists named Smith). "I have no doubt he had good reasons, which he might have told me if he had not known that I would not appreciate them; so I try to content myself, although it is hard to remain idle on such a fine day." Why, Blake, you sport a very dashing pair of boots, for you! I thought you eschewed such vanities as whitetops." "So I do, or did; but what could I do in this case. You must know that there is a man of the right sort, - one of the millennium men, - round in the third street; Richards is his name, a first-class bootmaker. He is in the habit of calling to look at my pictures and apologizing for not buying any. Last week he was looking at my picture of St. Peter and the penitent woman, and regretting that he could not afford to buy it. You smile; you think such blarney is not uncommon. Well, you are wrong. He is a man of great feeling, and uncommon love of art; I believe he is sincere in all he says. Well, he went away; and as soon as he had gone I dressed to go out; but when I looked for my boots, I found only one of them; so I could not go out, as I had not another pair. I thought, of course, I wasn't to go out; the weather was bad, and it might hurt my health. So I contented myself for four days, four mortal days. Kate and I looked everywhere for the boot, and gave it up, supposing that the angel had put it out of the way. But on Saturday in came Richards, and said, Blake, you and your wife must go to church with us to-morrow, and then take potluck with us.' I explained that I was to keep at home for the present. Pooh,' said he, your angel didn't hide your boot; I borrowed it. Here it is; and here's a pair that will last you for the winter. I was afraid to ask you to let me take your measure, lest you might refuse; but you won't refuse the boots, after giving me so much delight with your pictures. That's how I came to sport such boots. Of course I couldn't tell the good fellow that I disliked the stylish white-tops." "Certainly not. He's a true fellow; and the boots are capital. As for the queer fashion, we artists must submit to it, and not make ourselves disagreeable by telling what we think of it. But let me see your Peter and the Penitent.' Ah! here it is! Why, Blake, this is one of your best!" "My very best. What do you think Faseli says of it? Vell, Blake, dis is extraordinary; but you don't tink St. Peter looked like that old-clothes man?' "Yes, he did,' I replied, promptly; 'the Virgin Mary told me it is a capital likeness of him. What do you think of that?' "Vell, I tink her ladyship has not an immaculate taste,' said the learned professor. What a strange talker is Faseli!" "Faseli aims to be a smart talker," replied Smith. "But come, Blake; now that you have such fashionable boots, I think I can invite you to meet some of my fashionable friends at a little junket to-morrow evening. You know I don't pretend to ask people to dine. Northcote, Mulready, Hilton, and Constable will be there; and that ghost-and-goblin painter, Faseli, also; and I'll blow him up for his criticism on your Peter, for I think it fine. Now you'll come, and bring Kate? We want her to help keep us in order." “Kate, my dear, answer for yourself, and I'll answer just as you do," said Blake. borg was sincere, and believed in the reality of what he professed. Visionaries generally make religion the subject of their imaginings; at least, this appears to be the case; but a closer scrutiny might discover that there is a vein of the visionary in many whose minds do not turn upon religion, nor even on spiritual manifestations, or ghosts, witches, sea-serpents, and the like. Some, in relating facts, so distort and vary them that their accounts are as unlike the realities as the visions of Swedenborg and Blake were unlike what sceptics hold to be the truth in their cases. We inconsiderately, if not uncharitably, deem them exaggerators, if not liars; but it may be questioned whether they are not in the mental condition which made Blake believe that he saw Robert Bruce and others, when he painted, and Swedenborg believe that he saw the apostles and others long ago removed from the present state. I know a man who is regarded by some as half lunatic, by others as half knave, and by all as an excessively odd person. He never tells a story correctly, always varies the details, and generally, though not always, makes his accounts essentially improbable, while they are so plausible that an inattentive person might not distrust them. What this man's name is would not be proper to say publicly; but he is called Dozentongue by those who listen to his stories of men and things. This nickname has a general resemblance to his true name, which is German. Half the celebrated beauties in town are in love with him; half the men of talent, wealth,. political rank, or other distinction, are intimate with him; and you can hardly name a person of whom he will not give a private history. Emanuel Swedenborg relates that he wanted to inquire of Leibnitz about certain writings of his that were not so clear Not long ago, Dozentongue intimated as might be desired; so he prayed that to me, for the hundredth time, that he he might have an interview with him. would bring in a gentleman who will furHis prayer was granted. Leibnitz and nish money to introduce a public: improveanother distinguished philosopher appear- ment which I advocate. There are such ed, and the explanations were given. men, however the uncharitable and the Whether he saw and heard more than his unhopeful may deny and doubt it. He own imagination bodied forth may be had just been told of a munificent act, doubted by the sceptical reader; but it done in the most delicate way,, by a man is not doubted, by those who have care- who is generally supposed to be as nigfully considered the case, that Sweden-gardly as he is wealthy. He had enjoined |