6

court was cleared, the Embassy were introduced into the hall where the king sat, and a conversation on business took place, in which the Afghaun, monarch seems to have conducted himself with ability. His person was handsome, his complexion olive, set off by a thick black beard. He appeared to be about thirty. The expression of his countenance was dignified and pleasing; his voice clear, and his address princely.' His dress was most magnificent, having the appearance of armour of jewels,' and in one of his bracelets was the Cohi Noor, known to be one of the largest diamonds in the world.' His crown seemed a mass, or more properly a maze of jewelery, for it was so complicated and so dazzling,' as to baffle inspection in a public` audience. The scene altogether was uncommonly impressive, though the personal appearance of Shuja was the most splendid part of the show; and Mr. Elphinstone sums up his account by remarking, that the whole bore less the appearance of a state in prosperity, than of a splendid monarchy in decay.' In a subsequent and more private interview, the favourable impression' made by the behaviour of the Shah, was confirmed and increased. It will scarcely be believed,' says Mr. E. of an Eastern monarch, how much he had the manners of a gentleman, or how "well he preserved his dignity while he seemed only desirous to ' please.'

At this time Shuja had reigned about six years, and appeared to be firmly seated on his throne; but a series of injudicious measures, and misplaced confidence, had been for some time preparing the catastrophe which defeated the political objects of the Caubul Mission. The vizier had led an army against the rebellious province of Cashmeer, at first with every prospect of success; but he seems to have been deficient in every military quality, excepting that of personal bravery, and he ultimately sustained a complete and irrecoverable discomfiture. At the same time, Shah Mahmood, and the restless agitator Futteh Khan, seized Caubul; while the king's army was disaffected, and the Khauns of his party were at open variance with each other. In this state of things, it will readily be imagined that the situation of the Embassy could not be very pleasant. At one time, indeed, they were in great personal danger. A Hindoo had been seized in the passes on the Caubul road, and it was reported that he was an Emissary from the English to Mahmood, inviting him to hasten his march, and promising to seize the person of Shuja; and to this it was added, that the king had given up the effects of the Embassy to plunder. At this delightful intelligence all Peshawer was in commotion; matches were lighted, arms were got in order, and a mob assembled round the gates of the residence of the mission, where, at the same time, all had been quietly prepared to give them a warm reception. They dispersed, however, on ascertaining the falsehood of the report.

On the 4th of June, the party of troops with the mission, was exercised in honour of his Majesty's birth-day. Akram Khaun and many other persons of all ranks were present. The spot was admirably calculated for a small body; being a green plain confined by hillocks. The Dooraunees were greatly delighted with the exhibition, and even the King viewed it through a telescope from the top of the Balla Hissaur.'

We have quoted this trivial incident, merely as an illustration of that perverse obstinacy with which mankind adhere to old habits, in the very face of unquestionable improvement. Five, or even half five thousand men, disciplined in the European manner, and attached to the person of Shuja, would have put his throne and empire out of hazard; and yet, with this limited but practical proof of Western superiority before his eyes, he persisted to his downfall in the Eastern modes of warfare. Nor, as it appears, did any of his Sirdars, though delighted with the close array, the rapid and sustained fire, the hedge of bayonets, the unbroken charge, the combined and calculated movements of this miniature army, express a wish to substitute this scientific system, for the tumultuous shiftings, the uncertain and wavering formation, the desultory march, the slow and ill-directed fire, and the charge à la débandude, of their own troops.

Shah Shuja took the field in person against his brother, and the Embassy retired for safety to Hussun Abdaul, where it soon received letters of recall from the British Government. But even before the preparations for the homeward march were completed, it was overtaken by the Harem of Shuja, and by the news of his surprise and defcat; from which he would have been effectually protected by an advanced guard, and by the preservation of order in his straggling columns. It was Futteli Khan, with a small force, who had thus routed the army of the king. Some days afterward, the Embassy, while on its return, was again overtaken by the Harem, and introduced to the celebrated Shah Zemaun, whose name once struck terror through all the nations of the East, but who was now a blind and melancholy fugitive, seeking an uncertain refuge among those whom he had twice invaded and subdued. He seemed to be about forty, and had by no means the appearance of a blind man.' While on their return, the party were exposed to various adventures. On one occasion, the vanguard were nearly swept away by a torrent, which, when they began to cross it, was not more than a foot deep; but rose ten feet in a minute, and ran in waves like the sea, rising against 'the bank in a ridge, like the surf on the coast of Coromandel.' At another time, while entangled in a pass, they were attacked by the Siks. One man was killed, and the commander of the escort shot through the arm. In his passage through the Punjaub, Mr. E. had occasion to observe that the accounts of its

fertility are much exaggerated, and that excepting near rivers, it is in this respect far below the British possessions in India.

'On the whole, not a third of the country we saw was cultivated. It, however, contained many fine villages, and some large towns, but most of the latter bore strong marks of decay. Umritsir alone, the sacred city of the Siks, and lately the seat of their national councils, appeared to be increasing; on the contrary, Lahore is hastening fast to ruin, but the domes and minarets of the mosques, the lofty walls of the fort, the mossy terraces of the garden of Shaulimar, the splendid mausoleum of the emperor Jehangeer, and the numberless inferior tombs and places of worship that surround the town, still render it an object of curiosity and admiration.'

[To be concluded in the next Number.]

Art. V. Prescience, or the Secrets of Divination; a Poem, in two Parts. By Edward Smedley, Jun. foolscap 8vo. pp. 138. Price 7s. 6d. Murray. 1816.

THIS is, we think, the most splendid piece of versification

that has appeared since Mr. Heber's Palestine. Although extremely unequal, it is more imaginative and more interesting, than almost any poem we have recently met with of the same school; a school which we cannot better designate, than by comparing its elegant, elaborate, and dazzling productions, to paint ings in enamel. For some classes of subjects, this style of poetry may be esteemed preferable. It would not suit an historic narrative, a tale of sublime or romantic character, an Alpine sketch, or a quiet landscape. But for didactic poetry, or as a vehicle for that metaphysical cast of sentiment, which loves to imbody itself in personification and metaphor, a stately diction and antithetical rhymes may be highly appropriate. They fill the ear in those intellectual pauses which almost necessarily occur in poetry of this description, like an obligato symphony, relieving at intervals the subject of the composition.

Mr. Smedley prefixes to his poem an extract from Lord Bacon, on the subject of Divination, which serves to illustrate the title, and the natural division of his subject.

"DIVINATION hath been anciently and fitly divided into ARTIFI" CIAL and NATURAL: whereof Artificial is, when the Mind maketh "prediction by argument concluding upon signs and tokens: Natu"ral is, when the Mind hath a presentiment by an internal power ،، without the inducement of a sign. Artificial is of two sorts, either "when the argument is coupled with a derivation of causes, which "is rational; or when it is only grounded upon a coincidence of the "effect, which is Experimental: whereof the latter is for the most "part superstitious. But the Divination which springeth from the ، internal nature of the soul, is that which we now speak of, which "has been made to be of two sorts; Primitive, and by Influxion. Pri

"mitive is grounded on the supposition that the Mind, when it is "withdrawn and collected into itself, and not diffused into the organs "of the body, hath some extent and latitude of Prenotion; which, "therefore, appeareth most in Sleep, in Extasies, and near Death, and 66 more rarely in waking apprehensions; and is induced and furthered "by those abstinences and observances which make the mind most to "consist in itself. By Influxion is grounded upon the conceit that "the Mind, as a mirror or glass, should take illumination from the "foreknowledge of God and Spirits: unto which the same regimen "doth likewise conduce. For the retiring of the Mind within itself "is the state most susceptible of Divine Influxions, save that it is ac"companied in this case with a fervour and elevation, which the an"cients noted by Fury, and not with a repose and quiet, as it is in "the other."Of the Advancement of Learning, Book II.

We can well imagine the stir and tumult which such a passage as this would be sufficient to awaken in a mind disposed to those metaphysical fancies which may be aptly termed the poetry of philosophy. We cannot call this passage poetry, but it possesses some of the sublimest attributes of poetry, and strikes the imagination with mysterious force, like the words of an Oracle, that mean, or seem to mean, more than is expressed. If the mood of the poet, and the circumstances in which these impressions found him, were favourable to the indulgence of a suitable train of ideas, his first thought would be, how fine a subject it presented for lofty rhyme; and this would probably be succeeded by a degree of satisfaction in the opportunity of appropriating such a theme for the exercise of his own talents. What a sublime array of cloud-like conceptions would perhaps occupy the whole of his intellectual horizon at that moment. But then-to fix them into definite and expressive forms-to give to such airy nothings' both shape and feature-to translate into expression the deep feelings of excited fancy!—the difficulty of accomplishing this, has induced many a possessor of the highest poetic qualities of mind, to shut himself up in the solitary enjoyment of his own incommunicable thoughts, leaving the drudgery of expression to those who can more easily utter all they feel.

Mr. Smedley has had the good fortune to select a noble subject. We are disposed, on the strength of the ability he has shewn in treating it, to give him credit for feeling his best ability wholly inadequate to do it that justice which, in his first conceptions, he had meditated. We are not sure, however, that had he felt the sublimity of which it was susceptible, and which in the hands of such a poet as Wordsworth it would have gained, he would not have relinquished the theme before he had written half his poem. The passage which approaches the nearest to sublimity, is that which portrays the Druid's circle at Stonehenge. The Author visited this scene on a night which will

be always fresh in his memory;' and he adds, that he has per
haps given but a faint copy of the feelings which were excited
6 by its wild magnificence.'

To gentler scenes the Minstrel may repair
When the soft moonbeam tints the golden air;
There drink the fancies pious cells impart,
And trace their lavish wantonness of Art;
Chaunting in Lay far richer than his theme
The holy pride of Tweed's enamour'd stream,
But would you view the Druid's fane aright
Choose not the stilly season of "Moonlight."
Rather when heav'n's vast face is one black cloud,
And darkness clasps all Nature in her shroud;
When the big rain falls pattering thick and fast,
And the storm howls upon the gusty blast;
Then gather round your cloak-well suits the time
To tread the circle of that haunted clime.
Far o'er the dreary heathsward lies your road,
So far it seems not part of man's abode,
So dreary that in silence you may bless
The friendly gloom which hides its loneliness.
But little needs the torch's ruddy glare

To tell you when your steps have wander'd there :
So bright the lightning's angry glance is thrown
Where frowns that mighty shapelessness of stone.
Huge, and immeasurable; breadth, and height,
And thickness which o'ercharge the wondering sight;
As if the Fallen in his sport had rent
Some rock for his eternal monument;
And hurl'd the shivering quarry where it lies,
Fit emblem of his pride, and might, and size.
Apart from all the rest One seems to stand,
Grim-visaged Porter to the Brother band;
The Brother band, who fix'd for ever there,
In sullen state o'erlook the desert lair.
Few, yet how many! never to be told
Aright by man, or number'd in their fold.
Work, as the peasant fondly frames his tale,
Of him, the Wizard of Cayr-Merdin's vale:
Or sudden, of themselves upsprung from earth,
Convuls'd and shrinking from her monstrous birth.
Erst girt around with everlasting Oak,

Whose broad limbs never felt the woodman's stroke :
Seen but by purer eyes, to which were known
The lustral vervain, and the paddock stone:

Touch'd but by hands which cull'd the golden bough,
Mute to all lips but those which pour'd the vow.
'Such have they stood, till dim Tradition's eye

Looks vainly back on their obscurity.