It is believed that the learned dissertation of Lord
Brougham on the Origin of Evil, which is annexed
to this work, will need no commendation to ensure
its careful perusal.
PeterEckler.
by E. L. Bulwer
And the Stars sat, each on his ruby throne, and watched
with sleepless eyes upon the world. It was the
night ushering in the new year, a night on which every
star receives from the archangel that then visits
the universal galaxy, its peculiar charge.
The destinies of men and empires are then portioned
forth for the coming year, and, unconsciously to ourselves,
our fates become minioned to the stars.
A hushed and solemn night is that in which the dark
gates of time open to receive the ghost of the dead
year, and the young and radiant stranger rushes forth
from the clouded chasms of eternity. On that
night, it is said that there are given to the spirits
that we see not, a privilege and a power; the dead
are troubled in their forgotten graves, and men feast
and laugh, while demon and angel are contending for
their doom.
It was night in heaven; all was unutterably silent,
the music of the spheres had paused, and not a sound
came from the angels of the stars; and they who sat
upon those shining thrones were three thousand and
ten, each resembling each.
Eternal youth clothed their radiant limbs with celestial
beauty, and on their faces was written the dread of
calm, that fearful stillness which feels not, sympathizes
not with the dooms over which it broods.
War, tempest, pestilence, the rise of empires, and
their fall, they ordain, they, compass, unexultant
and uncompassionate. The fell and thrilling crimes
that stalk abroad when the world sleeps—the
parricide with his stealthy step, and horrent brow,
and lifted knife; the unwifed mother that glides out
and looks behind, and behind, and shudders, and casts
her babe upon the river, and hears the wail, and pities
not—the splash, and does not tremble!
These the starred kings behold—to these
they lead the unconscious step; but the guilt blanches
not their lustre, neither doth remorse wither their
unwrinkled youth.
Each star wore a kingly diadem; round the loins of
each was a graven belt, graven with many and mighty
signs; and the foot of each was on a burning ball,
and the right arm dropped over the knee as they bent
down from their thrones; they moved not a limb or
feature, save the finger of the right hand, which ever
and anon moved slowly, pointing, and regulated the
fates of men as the hand of the dial speaks the career
of time.
One only of the three thousand and ten wore not the
same aspect as his crowned brethren; a star, smaller
than the rest, and less luminous. The countenance
of this star was not impressed with the awful calmness
of the others; but there were sullenness and discontent
upon his mighty brow.
