faithful mirror and monitor, which I bestowed upon you at your birth".

"Ah!" cried the Prince sorrowfully, "it was a most irksome gift to me.

"It would not have been so," said Prudentia, "if you had proved yourself worthy of that, and the other gifts with which I accompanied it; but you have perverted the blessings which I intended for you, into curses. Instead of profiting by the beauties both of person and mind, which I have lavished upon you, to render yourself the admiration of the Georgians, you have made them the instruments of their oppression, and they pray to Alla to defer the fatal hour, which is to put them into the hands of such a master."

"When that hour shall arrive," cried the prince haughtily, "I shall know what reliance may be placed on them, and how to punish their disloyalty.”

"Yet, have a care, prince!" replied Prudentia, "A free and brave people are not to be trampled upon with impunity. Their grievances are not ideal, but real; they have just cause for their dissatisfaction with you, and if you should be

weak enough to give way to the baneful and cowardly passion of revenge-it will, as is generally the case with blind vengeance, only recoil with redoubled violence upon your own head."

"Why," demanded the prince angrily, "do you thus force your unasked-your unwishedfor counsels upon me? —When I had got rid of your baneful present the false, treacherous, scandalous mirror, I hoped that you would have left me to myself."

"You wished it then?" "From my soul."

"Then, prince, I am fully convinced of the baseness of that soul. You are unworthy of my care, and, from this moment, your hopes shall be fulfilled. Foolish, headstrong being! I leave you to your fate."

The Fairy Prudentia, and the surrounding flame then ascended into the air, and disappeared, and the prince perceived that he was enveloped by the shades of night, increased by the thick foliage of the forest. He strove to find his way out of the forest that he might return to his palace; but the farther he rode, the more he seemed bewildered. To increase his concern, worn out

VOL. III.

by the length and sharpness of the chace, his horse fell down under him: and he had no other course to take, than that of passing the night where he was, or of pursuing his way in the midst of darkness on foot. He preferred the latter, and walked a considerable way, hallooing at intervals, in hopes that some of his suite might be in search of him, and wiihin hearing; but no friendly voice replied. At length, he fell down at the foot of a tree, exhausted with fatigue, and soon sunk into a sound sleep.

At his awaking, the sun appeared to have made little progress towards the West, and he was astonished to hear, at that time of day, the sounds of music-loud peals of laughter, and all the other tokens of joyous, wanton revelry. His curiosity drew him towards that part of the wood, whence the sounds appeared to'issue, and he arrived at an open place where he beheld two structures, or colonnades, resembling the entrances to palaces. They were

very near to each other; but very different in their style of building. That on his left hand was composed of Corinthian pillars of exquisitely polished marble, with the bases, capitals,

and compartments, loaded with sculptured ornaments. Before the portal, on a pedestal, stood a damsel in loose attire, and with loose flowing hair, playing on a kind of tambour. At her feet, were several persons of both sexes, attired in the same loose manner, some playing on instruments, and others dancing round the pedestal with the most wanton attitudes and gestures. The building, on the right hand, was less plain, but more majestic; it was composed of Doric pillars of rough hewn stone, and void of a single ornament. On one side of the portal there sat an old, but hale, vigorouslooking man, of the most severe and forbidding

countenance.

The prince's increasing curiosity drew him still nearer, until he discerned a large stone over each portal, on both of which were inscribed these words: "THIS IS THE RIGHT ROAD TO THE TEMPLE OF PLEASURE."

"It is odd enough," thought the prince, that there should be two roads to the same place, and both of them, although so very different in the appearance of the entrance, be the right road." As he supposed that all the persons before the

left-hand portal would be too busy to answer any questions, he advanced towards the grim keeper of the right-hand gate, and demanded an explanation of what he saw. "That stone," replied the man, pointing to the one over the portal, "tells you as much as I myself know. If you will not credit that, you are not more likely to believe me." The prince was indig nant at this unusual surliness and want of respect, and was about to bestow some chastisement upon the gatekeeper; but observing his sturdy frame, which, like an aged oak, threatened to crush whoever should have the imprudence to meddle with it; his anger cooled, probably in good time, by recollecting that his rank was unknown to the object of it.

On turning towards the other portal, where he expected to meet with a more polite treatment, he beheld a middle-aged man of very mean appearance, but whose looks bespoke content and innate dignity, advancing towards him, or rather towards the portal before which he stood. The man saluted the prince very courteously and politely, and observed with much respect, that if he was travelling towards