ateurs of intellectual pugilism: the arena of taste is always crowded with curiosity; for whatever may be the cause of the quarrel, the combat is sure to be productive of sport.

An author's opinion of a Critic.

The critic is the nightmare of Genius, that haunts his imagination, disturbs his dreams, and sits heavy on his hopes. The critic is a despot, that regards originality as an insurrection against established law, and suppresses even the desire of glory in the apprehension of digrace.

Lines worked on a hearth-rug.

Fair one, take heed how you advance,
Nor tempt your own undoing;

If you 're too forward, (fearful chance!)
A spark may prove your ruin !

DETACHED THOUGHTS.

Ir is unpleasant, but useful, to know ourselves; agreeable, but dangerous, not to know ourselves.

The height of ridicule in a presumptuous fool, is the affectation of modesty.

The world pardons our faults when we know them; our good qualities and our virtues, when we know them not.

Labor is a better resource than pleasure, against ennui. Let us be happy to-day, provided it does not prevent our being so to-morrow.

It is nature that makes us happy, not fortune.

Fly all pleasures which may be followed by repentance ;and taste none to satiety. These are the two rules of a wise man, in the choice and use of his pleasures.

There is sometimes as much inconvenience in not following bad advice, as in following it.

LETTERS ON MYTHOLOGY.

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH OF C. A. DEMOUSTIER.

(Continued from page 191.)

LETTER VIII.

RENOUNCING promiscuous gallantry, Jupiter at last grew faithful to Juno, and for eight whole days burnt for her with all the fire of love. In the evening of the eighth day, he was walking in a lonely wood, admiring his own prodigious virtue, when he encountered two young vestals. These were Latona and Asteria, daughters of Titan Coeus. Jupiter accosted them the sisters blushed; but as their characters were dif ferent, Asteria ran away and Latona remained. In similar cases it is very difficult to know what to do; for if you take to flight, beware of a false step! and if you stay, something worse may happen. In effect, Asteria fell into the sea, and Latona soon became a mother.

Outraged beyond all patience, Juno raised against her the serpent Python, who pursued her without relaxation. Latona no where found refuge from the monster: the Earth had promised Juno not to give an asylum to her rival. But while this compact was forming, Asteria, whose corse, wandering in the waves, had been changed into a floating island by Neptune, which he named Delos, heard her sister's complaints. Arrived on the borders of the ocean, Latona could no longer escape from the formidable Python : at that instant the isle of Delos floated towards her, received her in its verdant arms, and glided back from the shore.

Alone in this asylum, Látona made herself a hut of the branches of the palm tree. Far from faithless men, far from jealous women, she lived there in peace. Solitude is precious to the unhappy; it is for them almost happiness; but at that sad moment, in which racking pains warn deceived beauty that she is becoming a mother, in this moment, of tenderness and terror, how cruel is it not to have one friend upon earth to wipe away the starting tears!

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33

Such was the distress to which Latona was reduced; but nature assisted her with strength and reflection: she supported herself against the trunk of a tree, and produced Diana. This daughter of Jupiter, being scientific by intuition, successfully aided her mother in bringing Apollo into the world. Exhausted by bodily anguish, Latona slept: during her repose the isle of Delos reapproached the shore, and the goddess, after awaking, took the road to her father Cous. In this painful and solitary journey, she carried her two infants; the sweet burthen did not fatigue her, for when you become a mother, you are endowed with strength.

..To avoid the fury of Juno, Latona quickened her steps, and was naturally threatened with a milk-fever. Arrived in Lycia, near a lake, she begged some water of the peasants, who were laboring on its shores; they refused it to her, and, in revenge, she changed them into frogs.

Escaped at last from the wrath of Juno, Latona peaceably educated her children. Proud of acknowledging in them the blood of the Thunderer, she exalted her offspring above those of the neighboring princes. This pride was very natural to a mother, and Niobe, daughter of Tantalus, possessed the same weakness: she preferred her children to those of the goddess. Her riches and her power rendered her still more insolent.

Enraged at her scorn and vantity, Latona armed Apollo and Diana with her arrows, "Go," said she to them, " revenge your mother. My injury is yours."

Animated with their mother's fury, they penetrated into the palace of Niobe, and pierced with their fatal darts, even in her presence, her sons, her daughters, and her husband. Sinking under the weight of her grief, Niobe was changed into a statue, from which tears are still seen to flow.

Such were the sorrowful consequences of maternal blindness. When my Emilia becomes a mother, she need not dread a fate like this. Should her children possess, by hereditary right, her features, her heart, her mind, she may love them, she may praise them; no austere censor will then blame

her for idolizing in them all those charms, which to-day we adore in their mother. Adieu !

EETTER IX.

I must now discourse to you of the son of Latona, who was known and adored under the names of Apollo, of Phoebus, and of the Sun. Even in his infancy, Apollo was presented at the celestial court: Jupiter acknowledged him, and Juno gave him a gracious reception. The young deity made the most of this favor, and became the god of Light. It is Apollo, therefore, who guides that car, which, till I see you, my Emilia, rises tardily from the other hemisphere, and when I am with you, returns there too swiftly. Upon the above-mentioned occasion, he took the name of Phœbus; but, like all fortunate courtiers, having abused his power, he was driven away by cabal, recalled by intrigue, and became wise by experience; as I am going to show you.

You know that Apollo is the god of the Fine Arts, and it is for that reason fable represents him under the figure of a young beardless man. Jupiter is somewhat stricken in years; but his son, in defiance of time, preserves the charm of youth, In fact, kings, and even gods, grow old; but talents never. Apollo had invented medicine; Esculapius, his son, and scholar, exercised this miraculous art upon the earth. Nevertheless this Esculapius in spite of his divine science, would have cut a very bad figure amongst our modern physicians. He neither went his rounds in a carriage, nor spoke a jargon that nobody understands; besides which, he always cured and never killed. Nay, his abilities went still further, for he reanimated the dead: but these miracles cost him his life.

It was whispered to Jupiter that Esculapius usurped his prerogative, and the king of gods struck him with a thunderbolt. Desperate with the loss of his son, Apollo flew to the isle of Lemnos, penetrated the inmost caverns of Vulcan, and pierced with his arrows the Cyclops, by whom the thunder was forged. Vulcan ran to Olympus, lame as he was, complaining bitterly of this violence; Venus took the side of her

husband, persuaded every god to be of her party, and, ceding to their importunities, Jupiter cast Apollo down from heaven. The son of Latona, despoiled of his greatness, was reduced to keep the flocks of Admetus, and found in this sweet and peaceable life, that happiness, which he vainly sought in the celestial court. Wandering all day through meadows enamelled with flowers, this ingenious shepherd made the arts flourish in the bosom of study: these brothers of Love are the children of Leisure and Solitude. But the talent which soon became most dear to him, was that of music. He saw Daphne; and then he invented the lyre, to sing his passion. When we love truly, Oh! how feeble seems the expression of sight, speech, music, or poetry! This lyre, composed of a tortoise shell, strung with seven cords, beneath the hand of Apollo emitted the most enchanting harmonies. The walls of Troy were in succeeding times raised by the sound of that divine instrument. Apollo sung, and the stones were seen moving forward, self-impelled, and arranging themselves in proper order. It is said, that one stone, upon which Apollo had frequently rested his lyre, rendered a melodious sound whenever it was touched.

Daphne, alas! was insensible to music; she disdained the sighs and songs of Apollo. Some people say this arose from an excess of virtue; others assert that she was secretly in love with the beautiful shepherd Leucippus; and I honestly confess myself of their opinion. At tender eighteen, when a beauty is deaf to the voice of love, be sure she has always a good reason for her cruelty; and that, if she flies one lover, it is for the sake of another. Upon this principle Apollo should have renounced his pretensions; but hoping much from constancy and time, he pursued Daphne for a whole year. Often did he try to arrest her speed by saying, “ Ah! cruel beauty! stay, stay in pity; I am regent of Parnassus, I am the son of Jupiter, I am a poet, physician, chemist, botanist, painter, musician, dancer, grammarian, astrologer; I am" Unwise Apollo! when next thou wouldst bend the stubborn heart of beauty, speak not of thyself, but of her charms.