Shah Gebal was no warlike prince; but he loved to see his body-guard finely dressed, to hear his emirs talk of battles and sieges, and to read the odes wherein his poets extolled him above a Cyrus or an Alexander; if he had by chance bought over the commandant of a fortress, or if his troops had gained a doubiful victory over enemies still more dastardly and worse headed than his own. It was one of his chief maxims, that a good prince should keep peace, so long as the honour of his government did not absolutely require him to take up arms. But this was no benefit to his subjects. He was not the less perpetually engaged in war. For if a difference had happened between the man in the moon and the man in the polar star, Shah Gebal, by the help of his itimadulet*, would have found means to believe the honour of his reiga concerned in it. Never did any prince give more away in presents than Gebal. But, as he would never take the trouble to examine, or to bestow one minute in considering, who had the greatest right to his benefits, so they always fell on those that were nearest him; and, unfortunately for the most part, they could not have fallen worse. sembled the ruins, and the inhabitants the ghosts of an ancient city, wandering around its desart walls. But how agreeably were these strangers all at once surprised at the sight of the artifical creations which Shah Gebal, to flatter his pride and to please the eye of his fair Circassian, had called, as it were, from nothing! Whole regions through which they had passed lay waste; but here they thought themselves transported in an extatic dream into the enchanted gardens of the Hesperides. Nothing could be worse than the roads, on which they often went in danger of their lives; but how amply were they recompenced for this inconvenience! the road to his pleasure house was paved with little variegated pebbles. With all this, Shah Gebal was perpetually talking of economy, and the best of all possible regulations of finance was a subject on which he was ever refining throughout the whole of his reign, and which actually cost him more than if he had been looking for the philosopher's stone. A proposal of some new speculation was the surest way to gain his favour; accordingly, he received so many of them within the space of a few years, that they lay heaped up in rows in his cabinet, where he sometimes amused himself with reading the titles and preambles of them. Every year a new system was introduced, or some useful alteration made, that is, an alte ration which at least was useful to some who had a hand in them, and who visibly reaped the fruit of them. No monarch in the world had a greater revenue on paper and less gold in his coffers. This, under certain conditions, may be the masterpiece of a wise administration. But in Shah Gebal's it was doubtless a defect, since the greater part of his subjects found themselves nothing the better for it. However, he was not disposed to become wiser by his mistakes. He was perpetually deceiving himself about causes. The first who approached him with a new project, persuaded him that he was more knowing than his predecessors; and thus the evil was perpetually increasing, without his ever being able to discover the source of it. In general he was fond of expence. His court was undoubtedly the most splendid in all Asia. He had the best dancers, the best buffoons, the best hunting horses, the best cooks, the wittiest court-fools, the handsomest pages and female slaves, the tallest halberdiers, and the shortest dwarfs that were ever possessed by a sultan; and his academy of sciences excelled all others in ingenious introductory speeches and polite returns of thanks. It was undoubtedly one of his most honourable qualities, that he was a great admirer of the fine arts; but it is also not to be denied, that he indulged this pro- | pensity more than was compatible with the good of his empire. It is confidently asserted, that he desolated one of his finest provinces, in order to convert a certain wilderness, which seemed to bid defiance to every effort of art, into an enchanted region; and that it cost him at least a hundred thousand men in peopling his garden with statues. Mountains were overthrown, rivers turned out of their course, and numberless hands taken from useful labour for executing a plan in which. nature had never been consulted. The foreign-subjects was but very moderate. Indeed this is ers who came to see this wonder of the world, travelled through ill-built and depopulated provinces, through towns whose walls were tottering to their fall, in whose streets skeletons of horses were grazing, and in which the houses re * The general appellation of the prime minister of the kings of Indostan, in the times of which we are writing. If we take these features of the character and the government of Sultan Gebal together, we shall be apt to imagine that the happiness of his the gentlest that can be said of it. But his subjects were abundantly revenged on him, in this, that their sultan, with all his glory, was not happier that the most discontented of them. The experience of this was to him a problem, on which he often fell into deep reflections without ever being able to find its solution. In the method which he sought it, he might have looked for it everlastingly in vain. Fer the thought of seeking it in himself was exactly the only one that among all possible methods never came into his mind. One while he thought the fault was in his omrahs, then in his chief cook, and then again in his favourite lady; he got other omrahs, other cooks, and other mistresses; but all would not do. It occurred to him that he should have done this or that which he had hitherto neglected. Well, thought he, this must be it? He set about it, amused himself with it till it was finished, and then found himself disappointed. This was cause enough for a sultan to become heart-sick. But he had still others which might have thrown a wiser man than he off the balance. The tricks played him by his priests, the intrigues of his seraglio, the quarrels of his ministers, the jealousy of his sultanas, the repeated ill success of his arms, the exhausted state of his finances, and, what is commonly worse than all the rest, the discontents of his people, which threatened at times to break out into dangerous tumults, all combined to embitter a life which appeared so enviable to the distant specShah Gebal passed more sleepless nights than all the day-labourers of his empire together. All the dissipations and amusements that had been devised to remedy this misfortune, were no longer effectual. His fairest female slaves, his best singers, his most surprising rope-dancers, his wits, and his monkics, all tried their arts in tator. vain. At length a lady of the Seraglio, a decided votary of the great Sheherezade, proposed the tales of the thousand and one nights. But Shah Gebal had not the talent (for indeed it is a true gift of nature) of acquiring a taste for the marvellous lamp of the tailor Aladin, or to find any amusement in the white, blue, yellow, and red fish, which, without saying a word, suffered themselves to be fried in a pan till they were done enough on one side; but as soon as they were to be turned, and a wondrous fair lady, dressed in flowered brocade of Egyptian manufacture, and with large diamond ear-rings, a necklace of great pearls and rubies, and golden bracelets, sprung out of the wall, touched the fish with a myrtle wand, and said to them, "Fish, fish, do your duty!" all at once the heads rose up in the pan, answered the idlest stuff in the world, and then were suddenly burnt to a coal. Shah Gebal,|| instead of hearing with great delight and credulous astonishment the like stories, as his glorious ancestor had done, was so absent, that it was necessary to break off in the middle of a story.An attempt was therefore made with the tales of * See Arabian Nights Entertainments, vol. i. page 147, vol. v. page 198. tures. the Visir Moslemt, in which undoubtedly a great deal more wit, and infinitely more intelligence and wisdom lie concealed under the veil of extreme frivolity. But Shah Gebal hated the obscure passages in it, not because they were obscure, but because they were not still more obscure; for he had really too sound a taste to find uncleanness agreeable, however covered and dressed up; and in general he thought the more voluptuous than tender fairy All or Nothing, with her prudery and her experiments; the pedant Taciturn, with his geometry; King Ostrich, with his silly politics and his barber's bason, and the monstrous compound of gallantry and finery, the Queen of the Crystal Islands, with all she said, did, and did not, were insupportable creaHe declared that he would have no stories unless they were moral and decent, without be ing the less entertaining on that account; he also required that they should be true and drawn from authentic records, and (what he held to be an essential quality of credibility) that they should contain nothing miraculous, of which he was at all times the declared enemy. This led the two omras, of whom we have already made mention as sensible persons, to cause a sort of story-book to be compiled from the most memorable transactions and occurrences of a formerly neighbouring kingdom, out of which somebody should read to him when he was gone to bed, till he fell asleep, or was no longer disposed to hearken. The plan appeared to them the more beneficial as it afforded an opportunity to communicate to the sultan, in an agreeable way, truths which peuple, even without being sultans, do not chuse directly to be told them. The plan was therefore immediately put in execution; and as the best heads in all Indostan (which indeed in comparison with the European heads, is not saying much) were employed about it. The work was completed in a short time, which Hiang Fu-Tsee, an author but little known, in the latter years of the Emperor TaiTsu, thought worthy of being translated into Chinese, under the title of The Golden Mirror,the reverend father J. G. A. D. G. T. from the Chinese into moderately good Latin; and the present editor, from a copy of the Latin manuscript, as well as he could, into the language of the children of Teut, as it is at present the custom to speak. From the preface of the Chinese translator it may be concluded, that his book is properly nothing more than a kind of extract from the chronicles of the Kings of Sheshian, compiled for the + See Ah quel conte, &c. par M. de Crebillon, le fils. as a remedy) may gulp them down with pleasure. purpose of amusing Sultan Gebal, and of lulling || latter as a preservative, no less than to the former him to sleep. He made no secret of it that his principal aim therein was, to be of service to the As to the interruptions and episodes interprinces of the house of the Emperor Tai-Tsu, mingled here and there with the narrative, espe thinking he might communicate to them, under cially the remarks of Sultan Gebal, we are asthe appearance of a pastime, ideas and maxims sured by Hiang-Fu-Tsee, that he had them from on the use or disuse whereof the welfare of the good hands, and was fully convinced that the Chinese provinces might in a great measure de- || latter actually proceeded from the sultan. This, pend. Old as these truths are, said he, it seems, however, need not prevent the gentle reader from however, as if they cannot be too often repeated. thinking as he pleases of them. They seem at They are like a specific in medicine, but of such a least perfectly consistent with the character of a nature that they can only operate by frequent Shah Gebal, and therefore it would be unreause. Every thing depends on the ingenuity of per-sonable to require that they should be as ingepetually inventing a fresh vehicle, that as well the nious and entertaining as the reflections of Shah sick as the whole (for they may be of use to the Baham the wise. THE LADIES' TOILETTE, OR ENCYCLOPEDIA OF BEAUTY. It does not absolutely consist either in colour, in forms, or in proportions. "Toi, que l'antiquité fit eclore des ondes, It is into his Poem on the imagination that Delille has introduced this tribute to beauty, and assuredly no place was fitter for it. Indeed, if beauty so often exalts our imagination, and causes it to produce chef d'auvres, it must be admitted that the imagination is in return extremely grateful, and that this enchantress, who repairs even to an ideal world in quest of pleasures for us, never manifests greater generosity than when we are desirous to confer charms on an adored object. The man, who is the captive of a powerful passion, discovers every possible perfection in the idol of his heart. But should love fly away, her charms suddenly lose a portion of their brilliancy; she is still the same person, but how she is altered! The prism of the imagination is broken, and the ray of beauty, which once shone with such lively colours, being no longer refracted by this magic crystal, now presents to the disenchanted eye nothing but a lurid and monotonous light. The analysis of beauty cannot be subjected to cold calculation. In vain Hogarth attempted to fix its fugitive forms; his undulating and serpentine lines teach us not what is beauty. How many of our handsome women would be at a loss what answer to give to this question. And those youthful lovers, if any such still exist, burning with a pure and lively flame, breathing only for the beauty that enchants them, describing in their impassioned letters, or in their inspired verses, the charms of the fair, how astonished would they be if they had to reply to this simple question-What is beauty? And those artists, who talk of nothing but la belle nature, who lose themselves in fantastic reveries on imaginary beauty, without reflecting that their art is still far below the standard of visible beauty, what would they answer were I to ask them this question-What is beauty? Some person one day asked Aristole what is beauty? The question of a blind man, answered he. Aristotle's answer was not much to the pur pose: It is sufficient, it is true, to have eyes in order to be sensible of beauty, to perceive it where it exists; but does this enable a person to say in what it consists?by no means. For this something more is necessary than the mere material organ of vision; this requires the whole penetration of the understanding, a distinct perception of relations; and it may be said, that if the question put to Aristotle was that of a blind man, his answer was the answer of a deaf one. Poets, artists, philosophers, people of every description, who are not blind, have frequently asked themselves this question, and have frequently endeavoured to give a correct delineation of beauty; but it is an undertaking in which almost all of them have failed. And wherefore? Every one knows the history of the celebrated tooth which so long engaged the attention of all the literati of Germany. It was announced that a child had come into the world a gold tooth: the whole empire was instantly in commotion; philosophers, physiologists, physicians, natu ralists, anatomists, all racked their learned brains to discover in what manner it was possible for a child to come into the world with a gold tooth. Numerous works appeared on this rich subject. It may easily be conceived to how many extraordimary systems, strange ideas, and ridiculous hypotheses this singular discussion gave birth; in short, our literati demonstrated (for, thank God, every thing is capable of demonstration) that it was very possible to come into the world with a gold tooth. But if these sages were unanimous as to the result, they by no means agreed con- cerning the means which could have enriched the human jaw with such a precious implement. Each of them ascribed it to a different process, which proves how extensive are the resources of science. All these discussions were finished, when some one took it into his head to examine whether the tooth actually was a gold tooth; and this attentive observer, who, probably had not written any memoir on the subject, discovered that this famous tooth was nothing but a very ordinary tooth, which an impostor had nicely covered with leaf gold, that he might make money by exhibiting it as a prodigy. May it not be with beauty as with the gold tooth? and after so much has been said and written on beauty, may it not be necessary to examine whether there actually exists any such thing as beauty. Methinks I hear the fair exclaim, what blasphemy!-what! deny the existence of beauty! upon it, will end to your advantage, and when you have read the first chapter of my work, your charms will appear doubly valuable in your eyes. I ask if there be any positive physical beauty, if what is called beauty depends on forms that can be described, on proportions that can be laid down, on colours that can be classed; we shall presently see that none of all these can constitute beauty. If there exist an invariable physical beauty, why has no philosopher ever been able to determine its essence? Why has no artist been able to prove or to teach what constitutes it? If there be a real and positive physical beauty, why do men of different countries entertain such various sentiments concerning this quality? Why has even the same nation sometimes different tastes at different periods? Why is the same man', at different ages, liable to variation in his sentiments on what constitutes beauty? Let us examine these different questions. Some authors have advanced that the colours, the regularity, the order, and the proportion of forms constitute beauty; but this assertion is not correct. It is very certain that, in beautiful objects, we are pleased with the colour, the form, and the proportions, "Colour," says Winkelmann, "contributes to beauty, but does not constitute it-it merely sets off forms, and displays them to || advantage." But is there any colour, any form, any proportion to which a preference can be given? Are there not beautiful women with a pale complexion, and others with a fresh colour? Is light hair less handsome than brown? Have not blue eyes their admirers as well as black? Is there any colour which by itself can appear beautiful to us? Shall we say, for example, that red is the colour of beauty? The vermillion of coral delights us, I admit, on lips half closed, but convey that colour to the end of the nose, and it becomes ridi culous; see it on the borders of the eye-lids, and it creates a sentiment of pain and disgust. Colour, then, does not constitute beauty, since the same colour alternately produces delight and horror. Have a moment's patience, ladies; let us first come to an understanding about words, that we may afterwards have no disputes concerning things. I request your attention for a few minutes; this little dissertation you may depend || No. VI. Vol. I. We cannot learn what beauty is from form any more than from colour. Notwithstanding what certain philosophers and certain artists may have said, no form is in itself more beautiful than another. All are equal in this respect, and we shall soon know the reason. Some admirers of nature, contemplating the apparent rotundity of the universe, the real rotundity of all the globes that traverse the boundless expanse, and perhaps also the rotundity of certain globes that are more accessible, have decided that the circular form is the most perfect, the most beautiful. All that has been said on that subject tends only, in fact, to shew that the great artist has skilfully made all that he has made, and that the circular RR agreeable with different proportions, and this is actually the case. "Artists have determined the proporticus which constitute beauty," says a disciple of Winkelmann. I admit it, but let us not confound terms. They have measured, for exam form is the ms perfect for what ought to be || circular. How many philosophical systems end like this, in a position completely ridiculous! No, it is not form that constitutes beauty. The form which makes a man handsome, would make a woman ugly. The circular form ravishes us when designed beneath the light neck-ple, the most beautiful women in a country rehandkerchief of a youthful beauty; give the same form to her foot, and then say with the philosophers," the circular form is the most beautiful." markable for beauty; they have therefore given us the actual proportions of a beautiful woman? but are these the exclusive proportions of beauty? Do we not see beautiful women who have neither the proportions nor the forms of the Grecian style. I could mention many women of Paris, the climate of which is not the most favourable to beauty, who surpass the far-famed Venus de Medicis. You must not, say some artists, admit of any deviation from the forms and proportio.s If form constituted beauty, why casnot that formi be determined? An old author very justly observes, "Every one is capable of giving his opinion whether a nose is too long, too thick, too little; whether a mouth is large or small; but I know not who can describe the exact figure of a perfectly beautiful nose, month, or fore-of the Greeks. So much the worse, is my reply; head. The number of each is a still greater secret, which the great Creator of all things has kept to himself." Let us pass on to propertions. Undoubtedly some of my readers will be surprized if I venture to affirm that beauty does not depend on proportions. What a paradox! they will exclaim. I confess this position may appear extraordinary, especially if an extension be given to it which it does not possess. Let us examine to what it may be reduced. for you thus introduce into the art a monotony and uniformity which exist not in nature. "It is with great justice," says Camper, "that an anonymous author has attacked Winkelmand, who is incessantly presenting to us the works of the Greek artists as true models of every species of beauty, and asserts that this kind of admiration borders on madness, and that it is habit alone which creates this blind admiration." Artists themselves have not always entertained the same ideas relative to forms and proportions. I admit that in all beautiful objects there ex- During the reign of Louis XIV. the French ists an established order, regularity, and propor-painters and sculptors thought fit to relinquish tions; but is it in consequence of such propor- the Grecian style, in order to adopt another kind tions that those objects appear beautiful? or ra- of beauty, a national beauty. It was then the ther is it not because those objects are beautiful fashion to paint French portraits; for fashion that these proportions give us pleasure? insinuates itself into every thing. Beauty, therefore, depends not on any inva If there are invariable propertions which deter mine beauty, all the objects which have those||riable colours, forms, or proportions. Is it then proportions must be beautiful, and those which a creature of the imagination? And if it actudeviate from them must be the contrary; ally exist, what is its nature, what is its essence? but this is not the fact. If, on the contrary, it This subject we shall investigate in the next is the beauty of objects that renders their propor- || chapter. tions agreeable, different objects may appear [To be continued.] CHARACTER OF THE ATHEIST WOMAN. BY CHATEAUBRIAN. IF the whole system of morality depend entirely on the doctrine of the existence of God and the immortality of the soul, a father, a son a husband, a wife, cannot have any interest in being infidels. How is it possible, for example, to conceive that a female can be an Atheist What shall sustain this reed if religion does not support her frailty? The feeblest creature in nature, even on the verge of death, or of the loss of her charins, who shall sustain this being who smiles and expires, if her hopes extend not beyond an ephemeral existence? For the sake of her beauty alone, woman ought to be pious. Gentleness, submission, tenderness, constitute a portion of the charms bestowed by the Creator on the mother of men, and to attractions of this kind philosophy is an inveterate foe. Shall woman, naturally endued with the instinct of mystery, who takes delight in concealment, who never discloses more than half of her |