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poses a pilgrimage to Mecca, which Kais performs : but, instead of returning home with his friends, he escapes to a desert bordering on the habitation of Leila. Intelligence is brought to Leila of the Mejnoun Kais, by a hunter who met him in the desert. The faithful mistress sets out to meet him, and finds him. Their interview is short, for Leila was forced speedily to return, but it is finely and affectingly described. In the midst of his solitude, Mejnoun is visited by Noufel, the Iman of Sana, who was a warm admirer of his poetry, and strongly interested in the success of his passion. He is taken by this prince to his court, and caressed with every mark of distinc
War is made on the Green-turban's Emir, the imperia ous father of Leila : the despot is overcome ; and his daughter is given in marriage to her faithful lover.
From this height of happiness, he is suddenly dashed into his former despair.
The Iman Noufel, though generous in his friendship for Mejnoun, was too frail to withstand the growing passion which he cherished for the beautiful captive. After a dreadful struggle between his duty and his desires, he yields to the latter in despair, and prepares a poisoned cup
for Mejnoun at the marriage: but, by mistake, he drinks it himself. A terrible consternation ensues, and the marriage ceremonies are delayed: a new Iman succeeds; who, enraged that his predecessor had made war for the sake of a woman, sends back the Green-turban’d Emir, and replaces him in his former dignity.--The father of Leila now dooms her to the embraces of a new lover, whose name is Ebn-selan. · The stern commands of the Emir have no power over the faithful mistress of Mejnoun: but affection prevailed when force was ineffectual; and she yields in despair to the melancholy intreaties of her mother, who seemed unable to support her disobedience. The nuptial day arrives. Ebn-selan approaches Leila, lifts her veil, and beholds tears on her cheeks, and frowns on her brow. Stay thy hand (exclaimed the virgin, in a tone more resolute and awful than ever virgin spoke): well thou knowest that Leila is Mejnoun's Leila, and can be the Leila of no other.' -Ebn-selan was the mild inmate of a mild climate. He had merited Leila, had Leila to chuse a Jover.' Out of respect for the passion of Leila, he did not insist on the privileges of a husband ; and his generosity won her friendship: but her love was in the desert with Mejnoun. The news of her marriage reached the ears of the latter by the reports of travellers. At first, he was incredulous : but, day after day, the circumstantial narrative, in all its terrible minuteness, afflicted his memory. Jealousy and indignation aug-. mented his delirium. He sends to her, by a hunter, a letter full
of reproaches and despair : she replies in the language of ardent and eternal though disappointed passion, which yields a gloomy consolation to the distracted wanderer. From his retreat in the desert, he is suddenly summoned by the Effendi Lebid, his aged tutor, who calls him to come to be the spectator of his father's death. He returns home; and after haying witnessed that afflicting scene, he flies once again to solitude, leaving the care of his mother and tribe to the Effendi Lebid. He then dispatches a messenger to ask an interview with Leila. Day after day elapses, and no messenger returns : at last, the completion of his sorrow is accomplished ; and the melancholy looks and faultering answer of his returning friend announce that his beloved Leila had died of a broken heart. His own death, which quickly succeeds, is pathetically deścribed; and indeed the whole of the concluding scene is highly pathetic.
• He sat upon the point of a rock, that he might discover the expected friend, before he reached him. At length he descries one approaching : he ran down the rock and met him on the plain. It was his friend, who, when he perceived Mejnoun, approached him with slow steps and heavy looks. The lieart of Mejnoun was chilled at the aspect of so melancholy a messenger, and with a bewildered air ho enquires the fate of Leila. His friend replied but with a profound sigh. “ Thy silence will byccomes thy tule,” said Mejnoun : « why is sint all for me an cternal silence? Here I have waited day after day but to hear of the death of Leild. Could that heart, that tender heart, "Pove as she loved, and live ? A thousand times already have I mourned ter death, and when the world told me she yet lived, often was I incred'ulous.”—“ Alas!” replied the friend, rejoicing to observe the calmnese with which the Mejnoun spoke," a fixed grief preyed on her soul atid.com"_"Talk not, talk not, (quickly the Mejnoun replied, with cyes that emitted sparks of passion, while his hand rudely repulsed his friend,) “ did I not commend thy silence ? Away! it is dangerous to commend a fool's silence! he will speak at last, were it but to give a fool's thanks. Away! I am sick of all foolery: away to thy world, to thy world, fvol.”
le paused his troubled heart was busied with gloomy imaginations: his rapid lips muttered low and inarticulate accents: his eyes were fixed on the earth : he sighed and said, “ It is completed! it was born, and it has died ! the flower is gathered, let the leaves, which the lovely stem supported, fall and rot on the earth !" He mused--terrible thoughts were in his mind, and the blood forsook his face. He olarieks---le rolls himself on the burning sands : his friend approaches, and would cmbrace him, but hic hurls him to the earth. lie flies up the perpendicular rock. He howls, and the echo multia plies his terrific voice. Some hunters join his friend.' Three day's ibey patiently watch at the foot of the rock. On the second day, the voice of Mejnoun was only heard at intervals. On the third nicht, in the gleam of the moon, they perceived a spectre-man descending.
The dying form paced slowly with tottering steps every step was audible in the vast silence. Their hearts shuddered. The Mejnoun looked not of this earth, and they dared not approach him. He reached a hillock of sand and stretched himself in silence. They hasten to the Mejnoun. On his murmuring lips they listened to the name of Leila, and slowly and hollowly they heard one vast and feeble sigh, and it ceased to respire. His friend placed his hand on the bosom of Mejnoun, and his heart no more palpitated
The last solemn office of friendship was paid by the hands of his unhappy friends and the grieving hunters. Returning to the tents of Ebn-selan, he summons the tribe, and tells a tale often interrupted by his moaning auditors. Even the obdurate Emir, in whose subdued breast no human passion now beat, but that of pity, vows a long sad pilgrimage to Mecca, and thanks the prophet that he is old, and will soon die. The gentle Ebn-selan rose, and wept, and spoke.
" Sad messenger of disastrous love! Another and a final duty still remains. Thou knowest not that the dying Leila predicted the death of Mejnoun. He lives, she said, but because I live; and he will die because I shall have died.
It was their last prayer that their ashes should be united. Lead us to his grave : they shall meet, though they meet in death ; and over their extinct ashes let me pour my
liv. inġ tears.”
The tribe of Mejnoun unite with the tribe of Leila. At the foot of the rock which the Mejnoun haunted in his delirium, they raise a tomb to the memory of the lovers, and there depositing the bodies, they plant around them many a gloomy cypress tree. Lebid lived to compose the verses which were embossed with golden characters on the black marble. Lebid lived to lament his own fostering of their loves, Ahmed's austerity, and the Emir's haughtiness.
· For many successive years, the damsels of the two tribes, in sympathizing groupes, annually assembled at the cemetry, and planted in marble vases around the tomb aromatic flowers and herbs. One night in every year, each bearing a taper, they wailed till morning the fate of the lovers ; and in parting prayed their parents to be merciful in love. The caravans of Syria and Egypt, which traverse the desert, in their way to Mecca, once stopped near the consecrated spot. The tender pilgrim once leant over their tomb, and read, and wept : the spot is now only known by tradition. The monument has left no vestiges and the trees no more wave their melancholy boughs : nothing renains but the memory of the lovers.'
We have principally noticed the story of Mejnoun and Leila, because it is the most important in the volume. In perusing this production, however, we have to lament a palpable deviation from Arabian manners, whịch ought to have been sedulously preserved by the author. Leila is sent to school, in a country where females of all ages are kept in severe seclusion from the other sex; and the loveșs are taught to design, an accomplishment forbidden by the prophet, and never publicly taught in Mohammedan seminaries.
Love and Humility, a succeeding Romance, is elegant and pleasing The third, called the Lovers, or the Birth of the Pleasing Arts, is very ingenious : it traces up the source of music, painting, poetry, architecture, &c. &c. to the attempts of an Arcadian lover to please his mistress; and the gradual progress of the artist in refinement, if not philosophically true, is at least well imagined. Our limits do not permit us to extract from, nor circumstantially to analyse, these little pieces: but we think that they, as well as the former, will materially add to Mr. d'Israeli's already established ree putation.
ART. II. Voyages to the East Indies ; by the late John Splinter
Stavorinus, Esq. Rcar Admiral in the Service of the States-Ge. neral. Translated from the original Dutch, by Samuel Hull Wil. cocke. With Notes and Additions by the Translator. The Whole comprising a full and accurate Account of all the present and late Possessions of the Dutch in India, and at the Cape of Good Hope. Illustrated with Maps. 8vo. . Boards. Robinsons. 1798. TH His publication contains the account of two voyages which
the author made to the East Indies, as commander in the service of the Dutch East-India Company. The first, which is comprised in volume I. of the translation, was printed in the original Dutch in two volumes, 1793; and an account of it was given in the Appendix to our xiith vol. N. S.
The second voyage, which occupies the second and third of the present volumes, was performed between the beginning of March 1774 and the month of July 1778. To the information communicated in the narrative, great additions have been made by the translator, particularly respecting circumstances of more recent date. In a preface, he acquaints the reader that,
• With respect to the notes and additions which he has made, they are collected from every authentic source within his reach ; from the accounts of other travellers, from other Dutch writers, from authentic documents, manuscripts, and statements, and, in a few instances, from oral information: the work, together with the additions, he flatters himself will be found to contain much new information re. specting the actual and late possessions of the Dutch in India, which, in the present situation of affairs, cannot fail of being extremely interesting He had, for some time previous to the publication of these voyages, collected the materials whence his additions have been made, with an idea of forming them into a general account of the Dutch Indian settlements; but meeting with these voyages, and thinking an English version of them could not fail of being accept
able, he coneeived himself more adequate to the task of giving a translation, with the additional information required, to render the whole as complete an account of the Dutch settlements as his materials would admit of, in notes, than to that of composing an original work himself upon the subject.'
We shall make no addition to the account which we formerly gave of the first voyage, otherwise than as we may see occasion to remark on the notes subjoined by the translator,
On the oth of March 1774, the author sailed from Europe on his second expedition, in the ship Ouwerkerk. In the outset of this voyage, we have a strong instance of that negligence for which the Dutch have been so remarkable in the conduct of their marine; and which is extraordinary in a people so high in maritime reputation, and who had attained to so great a degree of wealth and power almost solely by means of their naval exertions and foreign commerce. So ill-prepared were they to encounter the hardships of a long voyage in unhealthy climates, that between 70 and 80 of the ship's company were in the sick-list, and incapable of duty, when they quitted their native country. The translator has given an account of the adherence of the Dutch seamen to many practices, which, by other maritime powers, have been discarded for more than a century past. The great mortality, so frequent in the Dutch East-India ships, is the natural consequence of this indolent management.
In the course of the narrative, the author frequently complains of the little pains bestowed by his countrymen on the improvement of navigation. He appears to have been more than commonly attentive and anxious to preserve the health of his seamen ; but, being provided in the beginning with a crew in so sickly a state, it was not to be expected that his ship should escape the common lot. They stopped at the Cape of God Hope, but for so short a time that, in their passage thence to Batavia, the scurvy broke out among them, and was followed by a malignant putrid fever ; by which in one month they buried 42 men, and above 100 of the remainder were in the sick-list.
M. Stavorinus relates many particulars concerning the cultivation of the soil, &c. at the Cape, and he gives the following description of a farm which he there visited :
• About four o'clock in the afternoon, we came to the farm of Melk, which at a distance, and indeed close by, appeared like a whole village. It lies among the mountains, upon the gentle declivity of a high ridge, and on the banks of an ever-running stream, which he has led, along his farm, between two brick walls, like a canal, and which'turns a watermill, for the purpose of grinding his corn,