which often rejoices the Turkomans exceedingly. We also passed through a good deal of the tall jungle previously described, and saw some very large snakes.

At length we arrived at an encampment, where some signs of preparation, on the part of our guide, who was not a hired guide, but a peasant proprietor, who had volunteered his services from friendly motives, and a larger tent than usual, announced the vicinity of the Turkoman chief. In a moment afterwards, the servants had rushed forward to seize our horses' heads, and in another, we were seated at the divan of Ahmed Bey, a handsome young man, who had also, as visitors, one or two officers belonging to the Egyptian army. Our reception was in every respect hospitable, and what might have been anticipated from Turkomans, who are the real aristocrats of tent-life; but as the object of our mission was to express our commanding officer's regret at the little assistance afforded by the chieftain to the expedition, in the loan of camels, &c. (and we saw plenty on the plain in the course of the day's ride), our visit was more ceremonious than it might otherwise have been; and we felt it advisable, our unpleasant duty performed, after taking a little refreshment, to mount our horses, and return the same evening to Göl Báshí.

The stationary tents of the Turkomans, such as we were received in on the present occasion, are large, and made of a goats'-hair canopy, which is stretched upon rows of small poles. The interior is divided into two apartments, both of which are open in front, one for the women, the other for the men, where the carpets and cushions of the divan, or reception-room, are spread, and in the midst of which, in cold weather, there is a fire. The women, however, move about from one apartment to the other, with uncovered faces, and perform their various avocations of making bread, cooking, &c., without any regard or concern at the presence of strangers.

The men have a well-formed, athletic frame, with a taste for bright, gaudy colours, and showy arms. The women are good-looking, but much plainer in their attire than the men. They are particularly industrious in their various occupations, which include the manufacture of tent-cloths of goats' hair, of large double bags, and men's cloaks of the same material, and of fine woollen carpets, renowned throughout the East, and which, on the whole, rival those of Eastern Persia, the blue, green, and red dyes of the Turkomans, being superior to those of Kirman and Yezd. Piles of these carpets were to be seen in almost every tent of these rich, peaceful, and industrious nomades. Burghul, or bruised wheat boiled, rice, cheese, of which they make large quantities, butter, kaïmak, or clotted cream, lebban, and other preparations of milk and cream, with eggs, honey, dried fruits, and occasionally a little chopped meat, constitute their fare, which, like their residences, and condition generally, is much superior to that of the Arabs.

Formerly, at certain seasons of the year, the majority of the Turkoman tribes used to emigrate from Syria into Asia Minor, but at this time, the great tribes of Reï 'Anlú, Jeríd, and Rishwán, did not quit the plains of Syria. About forty-five years ago, Haïda Aghá, one of the Reï 'Anlú chiefs, induced some of his tribe to become cultivators, and having once perceived its advantages, agriculture gradually in

creased among them up to the time of Ibráhím Páshá, who, as the best means of encouraging this desirable spirit, entrusted local power to certain chiefs, as with Ahmed Bey of 'Umk, and Mohammed Bey of Kilís.

When the Turkomans move from one place to another, they observe much order, and a severe ceremony. A certain number of armed men, with shields, precede the procession, others keeping the whole in a definite succession, and others bringing up the rear. The march of a Turkoman encampment, the slow and stately pace of the camel, the bullocks laden with women and children, and the solemn tread of the warriors, only now and then interrupted by the dash of some mounted heads of the tribe amusing themselves by throwing the jerid, or brandishing their tasselled spears, forms a very striking picture, to which a slight tinge of the ridiculous is unavoidably given, by the extreme gravity of all parties, and an air of haughty pride which seems to say that the nomadic life gives to them an immeasurable superiority over all strangers, cottagers, and tillers of the soil. The favourite animal of the Turkomans is a low-set powerful camel, of a cross breed between the double-humped, or Bactrian, and the Arabian camel. Their horses are also in high repute, although inferior to the Arab.

It is almost unnecessary to say, that after the little difficulty which we had experienced in navigating the affluents of the Lake of Antioch, and the gain of distance as well as of labour, which was promised by this line, over that of the iron bridge, that our report, made on our return, was highly favourable; and, accordingly, a first depot was at once formed at the village of Gúzel Burj, or the pretty tower, so called from an edifice now no longer in existence, and situated upon the left bank of Orontes, a little above Antioch, at a point which the wagons could reach without passing the bridge.

Here Charlewood and Fitzjames launched the boats of the expedition, and constructed rafts on pontoons, with many other ingenious devices, to facilitate the transport, and another depot was formed at Murád Páshá, to receive and forward the same objects. About the same time, Col. Estcourt having returned from his mission, Lieut. Cockburn, of the artillery, was dispatched, with a party, to throw up some slight field works, and construct slips at a spot selected for this purpose, one mile and three quarters below Bireh-jík, on the right bank of the river Euphrates, and afterwards called Port William, while the two Lynches were at 'Azáz, doing their best to get assistance in that part of the road from Mohammed Bey of Kilís. Afterwards, Col. Estcourt superintended this portion of the line, and at the same time that Cleaveland and Charlewood were conveying the boilers, sections of steamers, diving-bell, and other heavy weights to Gúzel Burj, from whence the water transport was carried on by Fitzjames; Eden was engaged forwarding light stores, by camels and mules, direct from Amelia depot to Port William, by the iron bridge. Thus, by the latter end of June, the transport may be said to have been in full operation.

TWO POEMS BY ANASTASIUS GRÜN.*

TRANSLATED BY JOHN OXENFORD.

THE EXCLUDED ONE.

NINE friends once I had, and what love was mine,
When I was the tenth to that goodly nine!
One band was entwined around ev'ry heart,
But fate was opposed—we were forced to part.
We went to the banqueting-hall one night,
And nine brimming cups were at once in sight;
Then each of the nine from a goblet quaff'd;
For me, for me only there stood no draught.

Nine wheels in the village in chorus twirl;
By each one is sitting a charming girl,
And each of my comrades has chosen one:
No maiden loves me-I am left alone.

Nine altars are raised, and nine jewels are bright,

Nine bride-songs are sung, and they all breathe delight.
Yes, one is for each of that fortunate nine;

For me there's no song, and no altar is mine.

Nine ships bravely rigg'd all depart from the strand,
My comrades sail off to a happier land;

But ah! there's no boat that will carry me o'er,
Where love, joy, and happiness bloom on the shore.

Now long in deep slumber the nine have laid,
Their bed in the narrow garden is made.
The garden is small-the nine graves fill the space;
O Heaven! canst thou not for a tenth find a place?

DIFFERENT KINDS OF GRIEF.

A GIRL is by a tomb on bended knee,
And close beside it plants a poplar tree:
"Thou slender tree, arise, arise!
As he arose to spangled skies;
As both my hands are lifted now,
To heaven be lifted every bough;
As to the stars my glances wander,
Let every leaf be pointed yonder.
To him! To him! Ascend, ascend!
Your rustling sound must upwards tend.
Thus, poplar, thus beside the grave
An image of my grief I have."

A youth is by a tomb on bended knee,
And close beside it plants a willow-tree:
"Bend down to earth, thou tree of weeping,
For she below the earth is sleeping.
As on the grave these tear-drops flow,
So from thy leaves the dew-drops throw;
And as my hands thus downwards grasp,
And that cold coffin fain would clasp,
So to the grave, ye branches, bend.
To her! To her! Descend, descend!
Thus, willow, thus beside the grave
An image of my grief I have.'

* It is needless to repeat that this is the assumed name of Count Auersperg.-J. O.

46

THE PRUSSIAN PADDY GRENADIER.

BY R. B. PEAKE.

PART I.

FREDERIC THE SECOND, King of Prussia, has furnished, both in his public and private life, a subject for the pens of many authors. We are not about to detail in this little narrative his well-known merits or faults, though we must premise that he professed somewhat of a contempt for religious institutions, which was rendered by his enemies as implying a want of respect for religion itself.

We are told by his historians that he was avowedly an unbeliever in revealed religion, and that his notions of natural religion appear to have been vague and fluctuating, which were doubtless caused by his profound admiration of the writings of Voltaire. But then, as a setoff against this infidelity, Frederic the Second, in the year 1783, published a rescript, signifying his pleasure that no kneeling should in future be practised in honour of his person, assigning for his reason, that this act of humiliation was not due but to the Divinity; and as he expended nearly two millions of crowns about the same period in works of utility, establishing factories, draining marshes, settling colonies, relieving distresses, and in other purposes of philanthropy and policy, posterity must not consider him the immoral character he has been represented by some of his Roman-catholic subjects.

The city of Posen was the see of a Catholic bishop, and contained a university and thirteen convents. A Prussian regiment was on duty in the town. There was a private soldier in this regiment, a native of Killala, county Sligo, by name of Patrick Doyle, a fine, well-formed, strapping fellow, son of a farmer, but who had not sown his wild oats. Patrick had made Killala too hot to hold him, and was obliged to run for it while he had some money in his pocket. He made his way to Dublin, having determined to enlist; but meeting with some Killala boys, he treated them, and they treated him, but advised him to go to London to enter the army, as he would get more money by enlisting there. Pat Doyle was just in the condition to take the advice of anybody; so they all agreed to keep company, and drink away the time until the Dublin and Holyhead packet sailed in the evening.

But as the whisky had made them all very merry, when the hour arrived, the Killala boys determined on seeing their townsman off safe, and they rowed him themselves, with his spare clothes in a bundle, and put him aboard what they imagined to be, in their muddled state, the packet, and noisily bade him "good bye, and good luck." After they had returned to land, Pat Doyle went below to the steerage, to make himself comfortable for the night, and was not long, from the effects of the whisky he had imbibed, before he went asleep. In the morning, the ship was far out in Dublin Bay, when Pat Doyle, waking, and shaking up his feathers, ventured to inquire of one of the mates, what time they would be likely to reach Holyhead.

"Holyhead!-i' faith, honey, what puts Holyhead into your head?" "Och!" answered Mr. Doyle, " and 'ant I going to London?"

“No, my lad, you 'ant," said the mate;-" this vessel is bound to Dantzic!"

“Och, cruel murther!" exclaimed Pat Doyle-" shure this is the packet that Tim Mullins and the two O'Rourkes put me aboard of last night?"

"This here brig is the 'Shelah'-O'Shaugnessy, commander-laden with provisions-beef, pork, and butter-for the Baltic; and we brings back timber.”

Pat Doyle was aghast at that piece of information; but after, in vain, in his simplicity, begging of the mate to explain the matter to Captain O'Shaugnessy, with his compliments, and he would thank him to turn his ship back again to Dublin; which motion being civilly declined, another sort of motion (that of the vessel) caused in Mr. Doyle those very uneasy sensations peculiar to most persons on their first sea-voyage, and he was compelled to yield himself entirely to the influence. Oh, what a prostration it causes, both mental and bodily! and the stronger the constitution of the person afflicted, the more violent is the effect. Poor Patrick suffered a martyrdom!

On the third day, as the mate passed what might be called Mr. Doyle's resting-place, if he could have taken any rest in it-for though it was denominated his "berth," he thought it would witness his "death,” he was so very bad,—Pat inquired, "Where did you say I am going?"

"Dantzic!" gruffly answered the mate.

"What did you say?" faintly asked Mr. Doyle.

"Dantzic!" replied the mate, as he hurried past.

66

Very true!" ejaculated Pat-"d-d sick, indeed!"

At length, the brig Shelah arrived in the river Vistula. Had Patrick Doyle been enabled to have done anything towards working his passage, beyond the malady, the master of the vessel would not have demanded any payment of him for the voyage; but O'Shaugnessy was compelled to account to his employers, partners in the brig, a portion of whom were Prussian merchants, for the amount of the fare of every passenger.

It was in vain that Mr. P. Doyle remonstrated that he had been left on board the wrong ship, and that, by rights, he ought to be conveyed back to Dublin " gratis, free, for nothing." He at last positively refused to pay; in fact, in treating the Messrs. O'Rourke and Mr. Timothy Mullins, he had, with true Hibernian hospitality, miscalled improvidence, expended nearly all the cash he had brought from Killala.

The Prussian agent summoned poor Doyle before the police-court; the judge of which, though he commiserated his case, briefly informed him that he must go to prison, in default of payment.

Oh, how Pat Doyle longed again for "ould Ireland!" and the township of Killala in particular, wherein, if he had only blown a well-recognised whistle between his knuckles, a dozen brave boys, his associates, would have scampered up and rescued him from the hands of the Philistines; but here, in Polish or Western Prussia, he was marched away by a guard of soldiers as tall as himself, commanded by a corporal taller than himself.

When they were all within the court-yard of the prison, and Pat Doyle wondering what they were going to do with him, he observed a