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wife's infidelities never provoked his enemies to fasten his own ridicule upon himself.

Besides, the whole tale of Molière's domestic mischances, and of the liaison with one of his former mistresses by which he consoled himself, our readers will find in M. Taschereau's volume some extremely interesting particulars of the dramatist's connection with the court; of his intimacy with Boileau, La Fontaine, La Chapelle, and other distinguished men of the day; and of the rupture between him and Racine, which might occupy a chapter in the long and lamentable chronicle of the quarrels of authors.

By John Carne, Esq., of Queen's 18s. London. Colburn. 1826.

ART. V. Letters from the East. College, Cambridge. 8vo. pp. 593. NOVELTY in a book of travels, especially of travels through Greece, Egypt, and Palestine, is a qualification which at this day one has scarcely any right to expect. Almost every portion of the globe which the sun illumines, has been already traversed by our countrymen, or by our emulous neighbours, and their researches have been pursued with so much diligence and accuracy, that little has been left for succeeding tourists to add, or to correct. Yet it is, and always will be, in the power of an ingenious and imaginative writer to invest with new attractions his details even of those customs and places which are best known, by mixing them up with his personal adventures, and representing them through the medium of his own feelings. No two men will look at the same object from the same exact point of view, and even if they should, the impressions which it may produce upon their minds will seldom coincide in every particular. One merely glances at a part of the picture upon which the other bestows his chief attention; one glides smoothly and coldly over the surface, while the other introduces us into the interior of the scene, and makes us familiarly acquainted with all its peculiarities.

Mr. Carne is a traveller of the latter description. His object seems uniformly to be, to place his reader as nearly as possible in the situation in which he stands himself, and this purpose he frequently effects by his brief yet circumstantial and luminous sketches of the different nations which he visited. He is indeed sometimes seized with an ambition for fine writing which leads him into affectation and extravagance, but his faults in this respect are scarcely deserving of notice, when they are compared with the better portions of his volume, which are written in an agreeable style, and occasionally with a degree of elegance that merits unqualified praise. A gleam of romance also appears now and then through his sentiments, which when it is not carried too far we confess we generally like to see in a traveller, because it assures us that he

will not pass unnoticed any of those objects that are pleasing to the eye, or interesting to the heart.

We observe that Mr. Carne intends to give, in a future work, some account of his journey through Switzerland and Italy, and he, therefore, at once commences the collection of letters now before us, with his passage from Marseilles to Constantinople, where he arrived soon after those shocking massacres of the Greeks in that capital of which every one has a painful remembrance. Every thing that is remarkable about this ancient city is so well known that from the letters concerning it, we shall only select the general and well drawn sketch which the author gives of the appearance of the Turks.

The various costumes of the Turks have much interest for a stranger. They are certainly, in personal appearance, the finest people in Europe, and their figures are much set off by their magnificent dress. During the feast of Beiram, when every man, from the prince to the peasant, puts on his best apparel, nothing could be more striking than the infinite variety and splendour of their dresses. The beauty of the Turks is peculiar; the features have a general bluntness, without "points or angles." The thick and heavy eyebrow covers a full, round, and dark eye; the nose straight, and the chin round, with a very handsome mouth. They walk extremely erect; and their large limbs, their slow pace, and flowing garments, give them a very majestic air. They will sit on benches spread with soft carpets, in the open air, a great part of the day; and you see some of them reclining so moveless, with their head and noble white beard resting on their bosoms, and clothed in a light pink or white drapery, that they bring to mind the scene of the ancient Roman senators, when the Goths first rushed into the Forum and took their tranquil forms for statues. But nothing can exceed their indolence they hold a string of beads in their hands of different colours, to play with like children, from mere inanity of thought, during the intervals of smoking.'

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'Love can have little power on the mind with a people among whom the free association of the sexes, or the knowledge of each other, is forbid by custom. For ambition, or the restless desire to rise in the world, whether to riches or fame, the Turk certainly cares less than any other being. The pride of family, or the trouble of sustaining it, affects him little, there being no orders of nobility amongst them. Give him his Arab horses, his splendid arms, his pipe and coffee, his seat in the shade, and the Turk is in general contented with the state which Alla has assigned him. The pleasures of the table have few charms for him, for no other nation can equal his temperance at table. But his idol, his ruling passion, is beauty; for this he will pay any price. He will procure this from every nation: when the first wife of his fancy begins to lose the freshness of her charms, he will seek another more seductive; no matter whether Persian, Circassian, Greek, or Armenian. How admirably the prophet has adapted his paradise to the passions of his countrymen! The banks of roses on which the true believer sinks down, the palm, the orange, and the trees of perfume waving their eternal shadows over him, the fountains which gush away with a sound as of melody- all would be tame and unavailing, but for the maids of immortal beauty, who await him there.' - pp. 10-13.

We add the following summary to complete the sketch: the reader will observe that it is coloured a little by the imagination of the writer, but not so much so as to affect its accuracy.

The habits of an Oriental are very simple; the absence of every kind of public amusement and dissipation, with his rigid adherence to all the usages of his fathers, makes one day the picture of every other. A Turk of good condition rises with the sun; and as he sleeps on soft cushions, divesting himself but of a small part of his dress, it costs him little trouble at the toilet. He offers up his prayer, and then breakfasts on a cup of coffee, some sweetmeats, and the luxury of his pipe. Perhaps he will read the Koran, or the glowing poetry of Hafiz and Sadi; for a knowledge of the Persian is the frequent accomplishment of the upper ranks of both sexes. He then orders his Arab horse, and rides for two or three hours, or exercises with the jerrid, and afterwards dines about mid-day on a highly seasoned pilaw. In the afternoon, the coffee-houses, whither the Eastern story-tellers resort, are favourite places of entertainment; or seated in his cool kiosk, on the banks of the Bosphorus, he yields to his useless but delightful habit of musing. But the decline of day brings the Turk's highest joys: he then dines on a variety of seasoned dishes, drinks his iced sherbet, enjoys probably a party of his friends, and afterwards visits the harem, where his beloved children are brought him; and his wife or wives, if he has more than one, with their attendants and slaves, exert all their powers of fascination for their lord. The Nubian brings him the richest perfumes; the Circassian, excelling in her loveliness, presents the spiced coffee and the rare confection made by her own hands, and tunes her guitar or lute, the sounds of which are mingled with the murmurs of the fountain on the marble pavement beneath.' pp. 31, 32.

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Mr. Carne informs us, that the habit of eating opium is not so general among the Turks as is commonly believed. He gives, however, a striking description of a class of people at Constantinople who take this drug to excess, influenced evidently by the same wretched passion for intoxication which in our own country leads to the in ordinate use of spirituous liquors. Those people are called Theriakis, and they are known by a hollow and livid aspect,' by the fixed dulness of the eye at one time, and its unnatural brightness at another.'

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They seldom live beyond thirty; lose all appetite for food; and as their strength wastes, the craving for the vivid excitement of opium increases. It is useless to warn a Theriakee that he is hurrying to the grave. He comes in the morning to a large coffee-house, a well-known resort for this purpose, close to the superb mosque of Suleimanieh. Having swallowed his pill, he seats himself in the portico in front, which is shaded by trees. He has no wish to change his position, for motion would disturb his happiness, which he will tell you is indescribable. Then the most wild and blissful reveries come crowding on him. His gaze fixed on the river beneath, covered with the sails of every nation; or on the majestic shores of Asia opposite, or vacantly raised where the gilded minarets of Suleimanieh ascend on high :- if external objects heighten, as is allowed, the illusions of opium, the Turk is privileged. There, till

the sun sets on the scene, the fancy of the Theriakee revels in love, in splendour, or pride. He sees the beauties of Circassia striving whose charms shall most delight him; the Ottoman fleet sails beneath his flag as the Capitan Pacha: or seated in the divan, turbaned heads are bowed before him, and voices hail the favoured of Alla and the Sultan. But evening comes, and he awakes to a sense of wretchedness and helplessness, to a gnawing hunger which is an effect of his vice; and hurries home, to suffer till the morning sun calls him to his paradise again. - pp. 39, 40.

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From Constantinople Mr. Carne proceeded to Alexandria, where he encountered a very different scene. The plagues of Alexandria are its excessive heat, and its enormous swarms of musquitoes, which are particularly annoying to a stranger. It is absolutely impossible for any one who has not encountered their mischievous and obstinate hostility, to form the least idea of the torment which it inflicts. The ancient Alexandria is a mere mass of ruins, and the modern city is one of the most cheerless places of residence in the world. It has been lately strongly fortified by Mahmoud Ali, the Pacha of Egypt. Our author fully confirms the view which we gave in a former Number* of this Journal, of the sort of relation which exists between this ambitious Prince and the Porte. The time will soon come,' observes Mr. Carne, when he (the Pacha) will throw off his dependence on the Porte, and erect Egypt into a sovereignty. We entertain little doubt on this point, and therefore it is that we think the assistance which he affords nominally to the Sultan in the Morea is intended solely for his own aggrandisement, or for that of his immediate successor, and that consequently it ought to be looked upon with very jealous eyes by this country. If the growth of the Pacha's power in Egypt be of itself a circumstance not to be neglected by those who have possession of India, the augmentation of that power, by adding to it the Morea, and perhaps some of the most valuable of the Greek islands, seems still more imperatively to demand our vigilance. Mr. Carne justly describes him as a wily politician, yet daring and bloody in the execution of his plans.' A good deal of his time is devoted to the improvement of his country.

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The great canal of Cleopatra, which he has lately made, or rather revived, forty miles in length, connecting the Nile with the sea at Alexandria, is an extraordinary work: for a considerable time he employed a hundred and fifty thousand men about it, chiefly Arabs of Upper Egypt; of these, twenty thousand died during the progress of the work. Having ridden out early one morning in the neighbourhood of the city, and entered an elegant house which Ali was building for his son, we suddenly heard the sounds of music from without, and perceived it was the Pacha himself, with his guard, who had just arrived from Cairo. He was on foot, and stood on the lofty bank of a new canal he

* No. I. of this Series, p. 11.

was making, earnestly observing the innumerable workmen beneath. He was of middle stature, and plainly dressed; his age appeared between fifty and sixty; his features were good, and had a calm and thoughtful character; and his long grey beard fell over his breast. The bed of the canal below presented a novel spectacle, being filled with vast numbers of Arabs of various colours, toiling in the intense heat of the day, while their Egyptian taskmasters, with whips in their hands, watched the progress of their labour. It was a just and lively representation of the children of Israel forced to toil by their oppressive masters of old. The wages Mahmoud allowed these unfortunate people, whom he had obliged to quit their homes and families in Upper Egypt to toil about this work, were only a penny a-day, and a ration of bread. Yet such is the buoyancy of spirits of the Arabs, that they go through their heavy toil with gaiety and cheerfulness. By moonlight I took a walk round the spot where they were encamped: they were seated under their rude tents, or lying down in ranks without any covering but the sky, eating their coarse meal of bread: yet nothing was heard all around but the songs of their country, unmelodious enough, mingled with the loud clapping of hands in concert, which is always with them a sign of joy.'- pp. 71, 72.

Mr. Carne, after remaining a short time at Alexandria, proceeded to Rosetta, which he speaks of as the most agreeable residence in Egypt, and from thence to Damietta, and down the Nile to Cairo. He gives due praise to the celebrated river, and to the villages and towns which adorn its banks. Entering one of these towns at an early hour of the morning he heard, to great advantage, the cry of the Muezzin from the top of the minaret, summoning the people to prayers. This cry,' he very happily observes, in so still a country as Egypt, and heard at the dawn or at night from a distance, has an effect the most beautiful and solemn that can be conceived. The Orientals choose those who have the most powerful and melodious voices for this service. Often on the Nile in Upper Egypt, when the silence of the desert has been around, that cry has come from afar: "There is but one God, God alone is great and eternal, and Mohammed is his prophet,”— like the voice of an undying being calling from the upper air.' The thought is highly poetical and well expressed.

The beauty of the nights in Egypt has been the theme of every traveller's eulogy. The sky is so cloudless, and the brightness of the moon so intense, that the natives who sleep in the open air, as they are much accustomed to do, usually cover their eyes in order to save them from being injured by the rays. This fact, as Mr. Carne observes, seems to illustrate that passage in the Psalms, "the sun shall not strike thee by day, nor the moon by night," although even in this northern country the supposition that one may be affected by the moon-beams is by no means uncommon. Their effect in Egypt upon the sight is said to be more violent than even that of the sun. The colour which they lend to the scenery of the country, particularly at Cairo, must be enchanting.

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