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THE THESPIAN SYREN.

But ever and anon of grief subdued

There comes a token like a scorpion's sting,

Scarce seen, but with fresh bitterness imbued.

I.

Byron.

Ir was towards the close of a cool but delightful autumn evening, in Milan, the best part of which I had vainly spent in searching for a friend. All at once it occurred to me that he might beat the opera ;—yet, thought I, F— is very fastidious, and there is no particular attraction tonight. Thus weighing the matter on my mind, I came within sight of the Scala, and I was soon at the door of Count G―'s box, where F— was generally to be found. The orchestra was performing an interlude, and the footlights beaming upon the beautiful classical groups depict. ed on the drop. My friend was not visible, and I should instantly have retreated, had not a side glance revealed to me the figure of a young man, seated in the shadow of the box curtains. Count G― was partial to Americans, and I scrutinized the stranger, thinking it not impossi

ble he was a countryman, but soon recognized the countenance of a Scotch student, with whom I had exchanged a few words at our table-d'hote in the morning. It was several minutes before I satisfied myself of his identity, so different was his aspect and demeanor. He sat opposite me, at the table, and was engaged in a most lively conversation with a flaxen-haired daughter of Vienna, who appeared delighted with the opportuuity of reciting the story of her travels to a new acquaintance, which she persisted in doing, notwithstanding the obvious displeasure of her father, a military character, who morosely devoured his dinner beside her. Her auditor repaid the lady's condescension with an account of the customs and traditions of the Highlanders, in doing which the keen air of his native hills seemed to inspire him; for from a constrained and quiet, he gradually glided into a free and earnest manner, and evolved enthusiasm enough to draw sympathizing looks even from a coterie of native Italians, his opposite neighbors. Frank Graham was now in a totally different mood. He sat, braced in his seat, as if under the influence of some nervous affection; his lips when released from the restraint imposed upon them, quivered incessantly, and-it might have been fancy-but I thought I saw, in the dusky light, several hasty tears fall upon the crimson drapery. There is something in the deep emotion of a man of intellectual vigor—and such, Graham's table-talk had proved him—which interests us deeply. The very attempt to check the tide of feeling, the struggle between the reason and the heart, the affective and reflective powers, as a phrenologist would say,

awakens our sympathy. I forgot the object of my visit to the Scala, and silently resolved to lead off my fellowsojourner from the memory of his disquietude, or draw from him its cause, and, if possible, act the comforter. With this view, I approached him carelessly, as if I had not noticed his emotion, and proffered him the greetings of the evening. He looked at me vacantly, a moment, but soon rejoined with cordiality. Then rising and drawing his cloak around him, he seized my hand and exclaimed-Let us leave this place, my friend.' There was confidence implied in his tremulous tones, yet I was half in doubt as to the propriety of alluding to his obvious depression. It was a fine moonlight night, and we walked side by side for several minutes, in silence. How long since you left home, Mr. Graham ?' I inquired by, way of beginning a colloquy. ago, or thereabouts,' he replied huskily. prise, and gazed upon him in wonder. He stopped also, and observing my astonishment continued in a clearer voice, Do not be alarmed my friend; I am perfectly sane; literally speaking, I left Scotland five years since, but just now your voice aroused me to a consciousness of where and what I am. I have been carried back not only to my country, but to my youth, to its richest hour, to its most vivid epoch; you, by a word, dissolved the spell:

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Five minutes

I halted in sur

there is the famous cathedral, this is Milan, and I am nothing now but Frank Graham; but one memento of my recent fairy land remains and he pointed to the

moon.

Oh what mistaken kindness we sometimes practice!'

I replied; you seemed brooding over some sorrowful subject. I thought to divert your attention. Forgive my intrusion, for many, many injuries are fanciful and unworthy the name, compared with that which drags a happy idealist from his ærie in the heavens, down to life's common and desert shore.'

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'Say you so, my friend?' returned Graham, then you will not laugh at an incident in the life of an enthusiast. Come, come,' and he drew my arm within his, and quickened his pace. The window of my room at the Albergo, reached to the floor, and overlooked a small garden; as we entered, I placed the lamps in a distant corner, threw open the curtains and admitted the full light of the moon. 'Now, Heaven grant,' said I, as Frank Graham esconced himself in a corner of the sofa, and filled his glass from a flask of red wine- Heaven grant that your's is a tale of love and chivalry, for such a scene ill befits an unromantic legend.''It is, indeed, a glorious night; but who ever heard, in these days, of a poor Scotch student essaying at tournament or holy war, except in the field of fiction, as here,'-and he lifted Ivanhoe' from the table yet remember that this lovely orb smiles equally upon the love-vigils of the Highland chief, as upon those of the knights of old, and her beams must seem as roman. tic to you, while I improvise a chapter of my autobio. graphy, as they did to Rebecca the Jewess, daughter of Isaac of York, when the wounded knight related, at the same witching season, his adventures in Palestine.'

II.

The vivid impression which our first play' leaves upon

favorable for their display. Cellini, anticipating the effect, affixed a torch to the arm of a statue of Jupiter; and while his female enemy and the monarch were regarding his studies, in the dusky light, he suddenly ignited the torch, and wheeled the Jupiter into the centre of the room. The effect was most vivid, as the light was placed at exactly the right angle to show the figure to the best advantage. Francis received a new and powerful impression of the genius of Cellini, and Madame's design was completely counteracted. The versatility of talent in the character of Benvenuto was not more surprising than his boundless self-confidence. How much are we indebt. ed to this quality for the fruits of genius! Gifts of mind, unaccompanied by a vivid sense of their existence, are of little benefit to the world. Consciousness of power, firm and unwavering, is the best guarantee for its appropriate exertion. How much of the cool decision of great men is attributable to confidence in their destiny! When Napoleon was urged to leave a dangerous position, during an engagement when the shot were flying thickly around him, and calmly replied, the ball is not yet moulded which is destined for me,' who does not recognize one secret cause of his intrepidity?. No combination of cir. cumstances seemed adequate to shake Cellini's faith in himself. He spoke as certainly of the issue of an exper iment in his art, as if it had been repeatedly proved. Again and again he reinstated himself in the favor from which the machinations of his rivals had removed him, by the clear earnestness of his bearing. Whether discussing the merits of a work of art, defending himself before a tri

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