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There only now remained the medicine-chest.to be examined, but, seeing what had happened, every one appeared but little anxious to pursue the investigation, fearful of some new disaster. However, when Bogos had explained that it was to this the Frank had recourse when he required medicine, at that moment every Turk present seemed impelled with a desire to take some; and, indeed, they would have proceeded to help themselves, had not the Mufti interposed, who, still with the fear of some satanic influence before his eyes, entreated them to refrain. But an expedient occurred to him which he immediately put into practice. He sent for as many Jews as could be found upon the spur of the moment, and ordered them to appear before the pacha. A few of these miserable outcasts lived at Kars, under the severest of tyrannies, and if ever any misery was to be inflicted, were sure to come in for the first share. Very soon after the order had been given, some half-a-dozen of them were collected, and marshalled in a row at the end of the room. The bottles were taken out separately from the chest, and a certain quantity, ad libitum, of every medicine was administered to each of the Jews. They were then conducted into an outer room, where they sat in doleful mood, watching their approaching doom, like men condemned to some severe punishment, bewailing their misfortune, and in their hearts wishing for the destruction of their tyrants. The effects produced were as various as they were effectual: the Turks looked on in horror-the Jews were absorbed in disgust. Allah, Allah!" was exclaimed by every lookeron; and by the time the whole ceremony had drawn to a close, they became all seriously convinced that their town had been visited by the great Evil One in person; the medicine-chest was put on one side with caution, and everything which related, directly or indirectly, to Osmond, was treated with becoming suspicion.'-vol. ii. pp. 37-49.

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In another style we have been much struck with the description of Osmond's first encounter with the Khurdish captain, Cara Bey, and his little host of freebooters. The English gentleman has, during the latter part of the day, seen the castle of this redoubted Scoundrel perched on a huge crag in the horizon. Night comes. before they reach it; their road carries them through that deserted city of Auni, which Sir Robert Kerr Porter describes in his travels through Armenia:

On a sudden, as they turned the abrupt angle of a defile, Osmond's eye was arrested by the vision of what he supposed was an immense city. Walls, houses, towers, cupolas, and battlements, arose before him in massive groups, exhibiting to his astonished mind not the small and insignificant structures of a common Asiatic town, out the severe and well-defined masses of ancient times, such as one fond of classic illusions might imagine to have been the residence of Greeks or Romans. Although some of its angles were glanced upon by the moon, its principal outlines were in deep shade; the whole bearing so dark, awful, and mysterious an appearance, that a poet might, without much exaggeration, have called it "The Spectre City." It

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It was not long before the travellers, having passed the first broken outskirts, began to wind through the desolate streets. There was not sufficient light to exhibit every detail of ruin, and an ignorant observer might have mistaken what he saw for a flourishing city, the inhabitants of which had suddenly been smitten by the plague, or with one consent had abandoned their homes and fled. The silence which prevailed was fearful, and struck involuntary horror. House succeeded house in sad array, and not a sound was heard. A magnificent structure, looking like a royal palace, lifted up its walls and towers, cutting the clear blue vault of heaven with its angular lines, and lighted up by the moon in its splendour. The travellers paced along at the foot of its walls; the only noise which broke the still air was that of the reverberating hoofs of their horses, heard in echoes throughout the long deserted courts. . . At length, very distant and indistinct sounds, as if from the beating of a small drum, accompanied by strange screams of voices of men, either in pain or in frenzy, or in outrageous merriment, stole upon the ear, and broke the silent spell which seemed to have arrested every tongue.

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They had not proceeded far before they caught glimpses here and there of men's heads darkly peeping from behind the ruins; and occasionally groups of horses, with indications of troops on a march, were seen. These objects increased as they advanced, and it was evident that some predatory excursion was on foot. Men in the picturesque Kurdish costume, some on the watch, armed from head to foot, wielding the characteristic lance of that people-others asleep in recumbent attitudes-others, again, seated round fires, were now plainly seen, and bespoke the vicinity of their chief. A more striking moonlight scene could not well be imagined: overhanging turrets, broken battlements, lengthened walls, arose on all sides. Parts of the fragments, overgrown with wild vegetation, were lighted up by the pale gleaming of the moon, whilst the deepest shade concealed the remainder, and presented a series of outlines which became mysterious from being undefined.

At length they reached the front of a large building, evidently the remains of a Christian church. Built in the form of a cross, one of its sides, in the centre of which was the principal entrance, was terminated by a lofty pediment, and opened upon the square in which the building was situated. A triangular steeple rose from the summit of the roof, and presented to the eye a form of architecture so like a European place of worship, that Osmond could scarcely believe that he was far away from the blessings of his own Christian country, and in the midst of ruthless barbarians. The whole square was full of armed men, evidently ready, at a moment's notice, to obey the call of their chief, who was now close at hand. Presently Hassan, with a look of agitation, casting his eyes behind him, and looking at Osmond, said, "In the name of Allah! let us dismount: the chief is here."

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sented to the sight of Osmond, as he approached it, an immense glare of torchlight, which fell upon the ruined and dilapidated ornaments of its interior, as well as upon a large crowd of variously-dressed people. The scene was as strange as it was impressive. In front was the ancient altar, backed by a recess of highly-wrought fretwork in stone, in the centre of which stood conspicuous the sacred emblem of the cross; the high ceiling, supported by heavy pillars with grotesque capitals, received the rays of the brilliant light, and disclosed many details of sculpture which would be interesting to the scientific traveller; whilst the walls, broken into heavy compartments, engraved with Armenian inscriptions, and diversified by carved window-frames of stone, showed, by the cracks and fissures which intersected them, that the hand of time was not to be cheated of its slow but certain labour.

'Osmond's eye could not rest upon objects which at another time would have absorbed his attention-but fell upon a figure recumbent in a half-indolent, half-animated attitude, on carpets spread on the ground, and against cushions which rested upon the very steps of the altar. To describe the countenance of this person, or give an idea of the sensation which his appearance produced in Osmond, would be 'difficult. His countenance seemed, as it were, the rallying point of every evil passion: he looked the very personification of wickedness. He was rather inclined to be fat and bloated; but his cheeks were pale and livid, his forehead of a marble whiteness, whilst the lower part of the face was dark and blue. The nose was strongly arched, the mouth drawn down and full, with two strong lines on either side, and the cheek-bones broad. But it was the eyes which gave the look of the demon to the whole. Their brilliancy was almost superhuman: it might be said, "they flashed intolerable day;" they shone through the shade of an overhanging brow, like torches within a cavern. There was an obliquity in their look which produced deformity, and gave a cast of villany to their expression-had they been well matched, they would have been accounted beautiful;—and, withal, the settled tone of the features was a fixed smile. He was remarkable for a scowl on the brow, and a smile on the lip--a smile denoting contempt of everything good, which did not vanish even at the sight of inflicted tortures and agonizing death. Such was the man before whom Osmond stood and this was Cara Bey. In his person he was tall and muscular, and the breadth of his shoulders, and the deepness of his chest, spoke for his strength.

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Every object by which he was surrounded, showed him to be a voluptuary. He was waited upon by richly-dressed attendants; dancers, fantastically decked in brocades, velvets, and silks, with flowing ribbons, and a profusion of pendent hair, were doing their utmost, by studied contortions and measured attitudes, to draw forth his approbation; whilst all the ingredients for excess in wine and gluttony were placed before him.

"Osmond was allowed to stand unnoticed for some time, before

Cara

Cara Bey took heed of him, or seemed to be aware of his presence. At length, Hassan having ventured to announce his arrival, whilst he made his obeisance, the monster cast his eyes upwards, and eyeing Osmond and his attendants in silence, scrutinizing them from head to foot, and looking too suspicious not to throw doubt upon the sincerity of his greeting, he said doggedly," Khosh geldin-you are welcome!"" -Ayesha, vol. ii. pp. 80-86.

The whole character of this Cara Bey is drawn out with no ordinary skill and vigour; it is not, however, equal to the eunuchking in Zohrab-that, we suspect, will always be considered as Mr. Morier's chef-d'œuvre.

ART. XI.-History of the Revolution in England in 1688. By the Right Honourable Sir James Mackintosh. 4to. pp. 784. London. 1834.

WE E commenced the examination of this volume with the intention of considering merely its literary merit, and of giving some account of the life and writings of the amiable and accomplished author; but as we proceeded in the perusal, we have found the facts and sentiments so strangely exemplary of, and appropriate to, the prominent circumstances of the Revolution in which we are now struggling, that we feel ourselves irresistibly led to consider the work rather in the light of an important, and perhaps salutary, political lesson; and to postpone, for a season, our design of examining the merits of Sir James Mackintosh, as a mere historian and speculative moralist.*

There can be nothing, in the great features of the Revolution of 1688, new to us or any well-informed reader. We have already indicated, in former Numbers, the analogy between the unconstitutional proceedings of the government of James II. and those of the existing ministry; but in the present crisis, in the prospect of a national peril which absorbs all other considerations and seems to require every honest attempt to suspend and mitigate, even if it be impossible wholly to avert it, we feel it to be our conscientious duty to take every fair opportunity of awakening the public mind to an adequate sense of our danger. There is no other solid use in history-and statesmen have

We are the more willing to adopt this course, because an authentic account of Sir James's personal career is expected shortly from a member of his own family, and the biographical sketch prefixed to the volume now before us has been drawn up by one who evidently possessed no access to any private documents, and who has, on various occasions, adopted a tone of disparagement and censure, such as ought not to have been hazarded without the exhibition of solid proofs.

This editor, by the way, is himself the author of a large part of the History now published. Sir James left his MS. unfinished; and the continuator, though a clever man, appears to have been oddly selected for this task-as he is not of Sir James's school.

VOL. LI. NO. CII.

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counselled,

counselled, and patriots have bled, and historians have written, in vain-if their posterity is not to take example by their acts and lessons from their counsels. But there is something in the peculiar circumstances of this work which appears to us to render it peculiarly authoritative at this crisis. Sir James Mackintosh began life as the advocate of the French revolution; his last act was to take a share in the present administration; and his last vote* was in favour of the Reform Bill. He was a Whig and a minister-and his evidence, when it is reluctantly, or, we should rather say, unintentionally, given against his party, will probably have more weight than the testimony of an ordinary historian, and infinitely more than anything which we might urge on our own judgment or authority.

It is not on the general principles of the Revolution of 1688 that Sir James Mackintosh can instruct the present generation : the opinions of moderate Whigs and enlightened Tories were always the same on that subject. The intolerable illegality of the measures of James-the painful duty of resistance the ultimate expediency, not to say necessity, of calling a new sovereign to the throne—and the wisdom of deviating in that call as little as possible from the old line of succession are, we suppose, universally admitted. In all that Sir James says of the imperative causes and of the salutary consequences of that Revolution, it were idle to say that we agree-because every writer and every thinker is of the same opinion; and if we were now criticising the work itself, we should perhaps observe, that he has taken superfluous pains in proving that which nobody (except the Jacobites) ever denied, and which-since the extinction of that political sect has never been questioned:-to use his own simple but expressive admonition to Auguste de Staël, who was elaborately proving some uncontroverted axiom,- We take all that for granted.'

The lesson which the history of that Revolution can give to the present race of men is of a different, and of a more important, because more applicable and practical kind. The conduct of James and his cabinet shows, in the strongest light, how easily despotism can put on the abused mask of liberty, and bigotry and persecution make their approaches under the fraudulent pretences of toleration and charity! We there see that many, -almost all of the patriotic professions, the liberal innovations, the popular reforms of the present day,-are copies or close imitations of the insidious practices of that rash, weak, hypocritical, and profligate administration. And when Sir James Mack

His last speech we cannot say-for that speech, like all his later writings, exhibited strong symptoms of doubt as to the soundness and salutary practical effects of the measures of his political friends.

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