you this assurance: you shall be restored to your family; be at liberty from this moment. I presently provided some pieces of the richest gold stuffs of Bagdad, and begged him to present them to his wife: depart immediately, added I, presenting him with a purse of a thousand sequins: haste to rejoin those precious pledges of your affection which you left at Damascus; let the caliph's indignation fall on me; I dread it not, if I am happy enough to preserve you.

What a proposal do you make me! answered my prisoner; and can you think me capable of accepting it? What! shall I, to avoid death, sacrifice that same life now which I formerly saved? Endeavour to convince the caliph of my innocence: this is the only proof I will admit of your gratitude: if you cannot undeceive him, I will go myself and offer him my head: let him dispose of my life at his pleasure, provided yours be safe. I again intreated him to escape, but he continued in flexible.

"I did not fail to present myself the next morning before Mamoun. The prince was dressed in a crimsoncoloured mantle, the symbol of his anger. As soon as he saw me, he inquired where my prisoner was; and at the same instant ordered the executioner to attend. My lord, says I, throwing myself at his feet, something very extraordinary has happened with regard to the per son you yesterday committed to my custody. Will your majesty permit me to explain it? These words threw him into a passion. I swear, cried he, by the soul of my ancestors, that thy head shall pay for the prisoner, if thou hast suffered him to escape. Both my life and his are at your majesty's disposal: vouchsafe to hear me, Speak, said he. I then related to the prince in what manner that man had saved my life at Damascus; that, desirous to discharge the obligation I lay under to him, I had offered him his liberty; but that he had refused it, from the fear of exposing me to death. My lord, added 1, he is not guilty; a man of such generous sentiments cannot be so. Some base detractors have calumniated him to you; and he is become the unfortunate victim of their hatred and envy. The caliph appeared affected, and, having naturally a greatness of soul, could not help admiring the conduct of my friend. I pardon him, said Mamoun, on thy account: go, carry him this good news, and bring him to me. I threw myself at the prince's feet, kissed them, and made my acknowledgments in

the strongest terms my gratitude could suggest: I then conducted my prisoner into the caliph's presence. The monarch ordered him to be clothed with a robe of honour, presented him with ten horses, ten mules, and ten camels, out of his own stables; to all which favours he added a purse of ten thousand sequins for the expenses of his journey, and gave him a letter of recommendation to the governor of Damascus."

CHARACTER OF THE TURKS AND GREEKS.

BY MR. SEMPLE.

If two stout Greeks be fighting in the street, a Turk comes between them, pushes each a different way; and adds kicks and blows, should they still linger near each other. They look upon the life of an infidel as of little more value than that of a brute; and indeed do not seem to estimate their own at a very high rate. They have some traits of the true military character; are fond of Horses and arms; and detest the sea. They delight in the pomp, and noise, and glitter of war, and they can blind themselves for a short time in the hour of battle to its dangers; but its incessant fatigues soon dishearten them; and although they insult the Christians at Constantinople and Smyrna, they have learnt to tremble before them on the banks of the Danube, and the borders of the Euxine. This, then, betrays the whole secret of their haughtiness. It is founded on the conquests of their remote ancestors, not on their own tried strength.

In a word, deluded by the semblance of war, and really enervated by long habits of peace, and by religion, the rewards of which are entirely sensual, the Turk is willing to have a foretaste in this world of the cooling shades, the pure running streams, the soft slumbers, and the Houris of Paradise. Tents adorned with fringes, horses gaily caparisoned, and splendid arms, serve only to wake him gently from these luxurious dreams, that he may fall to slumber again with a better relish, and dream that he is a soldier. So much of war as consists in that, he does not dislike. But long and tedious marches, painful wounds, above all, the profound study and science of war, are wholly unsuited to his temper, at once impetuous and indolent. Where it is possible by a single violent exertion to obtain his end, the Turk may succeed; but,

disappointed in that first effort, he retires, like the tyger who has missed his spring, and requires a long interval of repose to recruit his scattered ferocity.

The radical and incurable defects of the Turkish character proceed in my opinion from their religion. All attempts of a legislature to define exactly, not merely what is vice and what is virtue, but also the daily and hourly duties of the man and the citizen, may form a peculiar and separate people, a nation of Jews or of Turks; but, once formed, that nation remains for ever incapable of improvement. Such is the defect of the Koran. Its simple precepts, its strict prohibitions, were well calculated to bind together the wandering tribes of the desert, but become too minute in some instances, and too desultory in others, when considered as the sole code of laws for an immense empire. Swathing-clothes may strengthen the child, but, if not timely removed, effectually prevent its becoming a man. Mohammed fixed at once the moral limits of his people. He sketched no faint outline; but, on the contrary, marked it with so strong a hand, that the line of distinction is for ever drawn, not merely between the Turk and the Christian, but between the Turk and the philosopher. It is impossible to be a true Mussulman and a lover and cultivator of those arts and sciences which adorn and exalt mankind. The Koran must be laid aside before the sources of real knowledge can be opened; the Englishman, the Gaul, the German, and the Russian, may each preserve the characteristic manners and customs of his country, and be a Christian; but the Jew or the Turk must be absolutely the same in all climates.

It is impossible to survey the present condition of the Greeks without pity, or their character without some contempt. Like their ancestors, they are still fond of throwing the disc or quoit; like them, the olive still forms a material article of their food. But the pleasing delusion can be carried no further. On longer and closer intimacy, we find the modern Greek smooth but deceitful; boasting but cowardly; vain yet abject, and cringing under the most insulting tyranny; light and capricious without invention; talkative without information; and equally bigoted with the Spaniard or Italian, but without the same real warmth of devotion to excuse it.

"There is no doubt but that the glories of his ancestors serve, by the contrast, to render his vices more pro

minent. Had we not been early taught to admire Grecian courage, wisdom, and talents, we might look upon the meaLuess of the present race with less emotion. But who can think, without regret, that the descendants of, the conquerors of Marathon are cowards and slaves; that for so many centuries not a single poet has arisen in the country of Homer; and that the place of Plato and the philosophers is supplied by ignorant priests; and of their scholars, by a still more ignorant people? The Greeks of this day present, in their moral character, the same spectacle as that of a man to whom Heaven has granted the doubtful blessing of very long life. But, however debased in a moral point of view, the Greeks still retain much of what we may suppose to have been their former physical character. Few amongst them are deformed or ugly; but, on the contrary, those from the Morea and the western islands of the Archipelago are in general remarkably stout, with broad shoulders and thick necks; whilst those of the other islands, and from Constantinople, Smyrna, and the coasts of Asia, supply by the elegance what is deficient in the strength of their make. Their physiognomies are expressive, but still less so than those of the Turks; and the women, when young, are generally beautiful and sprightly, but their beauty is of short duration. They are fond of wearing flowers on their head; and a robe sitting close to the body, and flowing loose behind, form the Asiatic part of dress, the remainder being very similar to that used by women in England or France. The men dress in short jackets and vests, with loose trowsers, which come just below the knee; and the commou people, like the Turks, have their legs bare, with only a pair of slippers on the feet. They seldom shave the upper lip; which, with their bushy hair, and a little red cap on the crown of their heads, serves often to give them a wild look, but never a dignified or martial air,

Even Turkish oppression, however, cannot entirely destory the natural cheerfulness of their dispositions inspired by the fine climate under which they live. They are fond of songs and dancing; and there are few, even of their smallest vessels, which have not on board at least one musician, furnished with a small violin or rebeck, and sometimes the Spanish guitar. Upon these, when becalmed amongst the islands, or sailing with light breezes along the coast of Greece, they play wild, and often not

unpleasing, airs; when a favourite tune is touched, the mariners join their voices in concert. The first part of the English tune of God save the King' is very popular with the Greeks at Smyrna; but the second is either beyond their abilities, or not suited to their taste. It is said, indeed, that they seldom retain the second part of any European tune."

LOVE IN MANY MASKS.

Ir is difficult, in every period of life, to inspire a real passion: but it is easy to make most women conceive a momentary one: many things contribute to this: a fine figure; the appearance of strength and vigour; the graces; wit, or the reputation of it; complaisance; and, often, a decided tone, and light manners; ambitious ideas; and, finally, interested views. With so many resources, it is almost impossible that every one should not find means to gratify his inclinations during his youth; but, in a riper age, it is necessary to fix the affections. If we will not renounce every species of gallantry, it is necessary to accustom ourselves early to the sweet habitude of living with one whom we love and esteem; without which, we fall into the most gloomy apathy, or insupportable agitation. The habitude of which I speak is more agreeable and solid when founded upon the permanent affections of the mind; but this is not so absolutely necessary as not to be dispensed with. It is certain that the cares of a woman are always more agreeable to an old man than those of a relation or friend of his own sex; it seems to be the wish and intention of nature that the two sexes should live and die together.

We become insensible of a settled habitude; and, as we do not perceive that a mistress grows old, and becomes less handsome, we do not observe that her way of thinking becomes our own, and our reason subjected to hers, though sometimes less enlightened. We insensibly sacrifice our fortune to her; and this is a necessary consequence of the resignation we have made of our reason.

Men sometimes pass over the infidelities of women, because they are not perfectly convinced of them, and that a blind confidence is a necessary consequence of their seduction but if, unfortunately, they come to the knowledge of them, it is impossible for a man, sincerely