""Twere well to hear what one so wise

"As he we speak of would advise :
"Or, since perchance, to our intent
"The will may be already bent,
"Rather, 'twere well to lift the veil
"Athwart the future's gloom;
"And know what peril may assail,

"Or pleasure soothe-our doom!"

"Well said," cried Ching," the scheme's a bold one; "One likes to have one's fortune told one. ""Tis new Moon, by-the-bye, to-night, "It can't do any harm to hear him! "To start betimes would be but right;

"We live, you know, by no means near him." Rejoiced to find gay Ching so mettled, Chang nods assent-the' affair is settled.

In those dark climes of farthest Ind

Yet reigns that weird, and wond'rous Science, To which, ev'n here, the illumin'd mind

Hath sometimes quail'd from its defiance. Dread relics of that solemn lore,

From eldest Egypt, haply brought,

And to the Magian Seers of yore

In terror and in mystery taught

By the eternal Stars;-what time
Night deepened to her ghastly noon,

And, paled beneath the muttered rhyme,

Grew faint the pausing Moon.

There, while the sparr'd, and dropping caves
Murmured, as from their depth were called
New Shapes released from former graves,
And the earth's dreader beings--thralled
To grosser ether, by the Power
And the dark Rulers of the Hour!
While Nature sickened into dearth,
The swift winds fell upon the waves
With Fear struck dead; and Silence palled
The torpor of the tomb-like earth ;-
There, by their rocky homes, the Seers
Of the Dark Wisdom lonely sate,
And from no human oracle,

Nor Druid shade, or Delphic cell,
But from the arch untrodden spheres
Drew forth the voice of Fate!

Ye whom the Magian spell'd of old,

The orbed and glorious Thrones of Heaven,

Will ye in truth no more unfold

The lore to Earth's grey Fathers given? What wonderous arts that pierce the deep Of Time, and from slow Nature win

Her secrets, aye, her empire; sleep

Your hush'd and hoarding shrines within!

and yearn,

And still we gaze, and gaze, and

And, with mysterious pinings, feel The soul—perchance your offspring-burn

For what your voices can reveal !— Mute-mute-ye from your height survey Our longings vague, our visions vain ; And, drawn to earth, we turn away, And sicken to ourselves again.

Still linger in the vast abode,
Where once the Magian learning glowed
Fond dreamers wild and self-deceiving,
Feeding strange thoughts in loneliness;
And, in one empty science, weaving

The threads of each unhallowed guess. Gaunt Fast and sternest Penance joined To the great AwE, which is the soul Or demon of all solitude,

Darken the fancies of their mind

Into a grim and gathering mood,
Till madness blackens o'er the whole.

Such is the stuff from which is made
The mould of those in half-lit climes,

Whom hooded millions have obeyed,

Drunk with the lust of fire and scathe,
And mailed to mercy by a faith,

That sprung from Phrensy's densest shade,

A madness modell'd to a trade,
And grown a creed by crimes!

To one of these wild seers the Twins
Are bound, and ere the earliest ray
Of the New Moon* her reign begins,
Behold them on their unwatch'd way.

They pass'd along by the Menam's side,
With its floating streets on the twilight tide,
And laughter and voices echoed afar

From the idle groups in the gilt bazaar;

But the clear smooth note 'mid the din they distinguish, Of the cunning Chinese who are cheating the English.

They have left the city behind them now;

And, along the gladden'd ground,

There stealeth a scent from each purple bough,
In the thousand orchards round.‡

O'er the thin, frail plank, that the deep canal
Bridges, they gliding go;

* The reader will bear in mind, that both in the Boudhic and Hindoo superstitions, the time of the new moon is one of peculiar and mystic power.

+ "On each side of the river (Menam) there was a row of floating habitations resting on rafts of bamboo moored to the shore. These appeared the neatest and best description of buildings; they were occupied by good Chinese shops." --Crauford's Embassy to Siam, p. 79.

Bancok is surrounded by orchards.

And the maw of the crocodile waits their fall,

As he watcheth them from below.

For two-and-twenty comely fanes

In sight, the wealth of the town bespeak;
But the purse of the burgher-man never contains
Enough for a bridge o'er a single creek.*

The night hath advanced; and the sharp, shrill cry
Of the geckot breaks forth from the herbage dark;
And out, o'er the hush of the breathless sky,
Sweeps the Moon in her stately bark,
They see (in Siam a frequent sight—

A drollish sort of a constitution hers!)

A robber, who should have been hang'd that night,
Walking coolly off with his executioners.‡

* "The town (Bancok) is built on a rich tract, &c., intersected by numerous creeks and canals. We had to pass under a bridge, which, after the profusion of expense which we had lately witnessed in the temples, afforded a surprising example of the stupid inattention of a despotic government and a superstitious people, to all objects of public convenience and utility: the value of a very few of the brass images which we saw yesterday, would have been sufficient to build a noble bridge at this place, where it was so much required; but the one which we now saw, consisted of a single plank, and was elevated to the giddy height of at least thirty feet. We proceeded in all about five miles. In our route, we counted no less than twenty-two temples."—Crauford's Embassy, 127-130.

† A sort of lizard of nocturnal habits-made on purpose to disturb Captain Crauford at night.

‡ “A celebrated gang robber, whose apprehension had cost the Siamese government a great deal of trouble, and who was placed in charge of the