is only by a story skilfully constructed and happily adapted to the purposes it is intended to effect, that this knowledge in its fullest extent can be imparted. In other words, it is an Eastern novel alone which can be made the vehicle of such interesting but minute information, as can lead us to any intimate communion with nations differing so widely from ourselves in everything of thought or circumstance, principle or observance.

Had works of this sort formed any portion of the scanty but precious relics of ancient Greece, how vast would be our increase of knowledge on all those points, which at present admit only of the vague conjectures of the antiquarian! Nay, did we possess but one single story of Athenian fiction, in how great a degree would not the his tory, the philosophy, the poetry, of the most glorious and interesting era recorded in the annals of mankind, have been illustrated and explained! How many doubts would at once be removed, how many false conjectures corrected, how many erroneous conclusions set at nought? As it is, of much which it would be most interesting to know, of the habitudes and modes of thought of a people whose productions have modelled the taste, and ennobled the imagination, of all succeeding generations, we are, and must continue ignorant. Through a medium always obscure, and frequent ly fallacious, we can view them only as a whole, in their collective and external relations, while all the minuter features which would have lent beauty and accuracy to the picture, must remain without the scope of our observation.

It has been said that knowledge is power, and it is true; but surely it is no less so, that knowledge is pleasure; nor, of all the modifications of pleasure, of which our nature is susceptible, is that the least noble and enduring, which is derived from works in which instruction is united to the highest excitement of the imagination, and of all the best and deepest sympathies of the human heart. Such a work is Anastasius; one of the proudest and most successful efforts of contemporary genius, which at once raised its author, previously known only as a dilettante dissertator on chairs, chimney-pieces, and chaises longues, to the very foremost rank of literary distinction. We confess we know of no

work in the whole circle of British Literature which displays greater vigour of conception, or exercises an influence more powerful and despotic over the feelings and the imagination of the reader. In all its delineations, there is a freedom of pencil, and a vividness and splendour of colouring, which mark the hand of a master, while the truth of the picture in its details, its rigid and close adherence to all the lineaments of humanity, modified in their developement and form by the thousand visionary and material influences which affect our nature, has never been surpassed, even by the most unimaginative and prosaic historian. The story of Euphrosyne is a fine specimen of the very loftiest power, somewhat wantonly exercised on matter full of difficulty and danger. The author shews himself on the brink of a precipice, but he does not fall ; and we think our language affords nothing more full of melancholy beauty, than the latter portion of the work, but above all, that which relates to the illness and death of his son. Such descriptions as these will not die. The tooth of time will not injure the pages of Anastasius; they bear the stamp of immortality-μa is å.

Anastasius was followed by Hajji Baba, a work altogether of inferior pretensions, and yet excellent in its kind. The author knew his own powers too well to attempt a fruitless rivalry with his predecessor, and pitched his tone in a lower-we think too low a-key. His model is evidently Le Sage; and Hajji Baba is in truth nothing more than a Persian Gil Blas, equally unprincipled and uninteresting in his own personal attributes, yet affording scope, in the narration of his vicissitudes and adventures, for description of all ranks of society in Persia, and in the other countries of which, in the progress of the story, he becomes a visitor. We are thus furnished with a series of portraits drawn from the life, and animated with all the spirit which the Promethean skill of the artist enabled him to infuse. One advantage of the plan undoubtedly is, that it obviates the necessity of any regularly constructed plot, while it gives ample room and verge enough for introduction of incident and delineation of manners. We wish Mr Morier-for such is the name of the author of Hajji Baba-had thought proper to invest his hero with a de

gree of principle and feeling somewhat greater, which, we trust, would not have injured the truth of the delinea tion.

Altogether, however, the book is clever and amusing, and the manners of the different classes of society in Persia are painted with a graceful felicity of touch, which bears abundant evidence of the skill of the artist. All occasions of deep feeling he avoids, and even when they naturally occur in the course of the narrative, they are slurred over in a manner which shews pretty strongly, that the forte of the author does not lie in the pathetic.

Between these two works below Anastasius, but, in all respects, above Hajji Baba-would we place the Adventures of a Kuzzilbash. It is a work of great talent and originality; full of vivid and vigorous description and spirit-stirring adventure, of perilous escapes by flood and field, of broil and battle, of human passion and human crime.

The word Kuzzilbash, or Redhead, as our readers know-or, more probably, as they do not know-is employed in the present day to designate a Persian soldier, though in former times it was exclusively applied to seven tribes, who, in the reign of Shah Ismael the first, formed a sort of body-guard to their monarch, and were bound by covenant to defend the Sheah faith against the accursed followers of Omar. The hero, whose adventures form the staple of the work, is represented as of distinguished lineage, being the son of a chief of the tribe of Affshar, which occupies a small district in the province of Khorasan. His respectable father, we are informed, was a person of truly moderate desires, and contented with a very limited exercise of the privileges of a polygamist. He had only two wives, of whom the mother of our hero was the favourite. Ismael -for in such name does he rejoice was not born for several years after their union, and his birth was not unaccompanied by fearful omens. His mother, having fallen asleep one day after coming out of the bath, is visited by a dream of fearful import, which is afterwards fully realized in the misfortunes of the family, and the perils by which the life of her son is assailed. The worthy matron is slowly recovering from her accouchement,

having had, what in Scottish phrase is called, "a sair time o't," when she is visited by Roushun-u-deen Sheikh Allee Calunder, a dervish equally cele brated for his profound wisdom, his unrivalled sanctity, and the impenetrable mystery which hung over his character, and the habits of his life. As this personage plays rather a striking part in the story, it may be as well to allow the author to shadow forth his character and attributes.

"The Sheikh was believed to be a native of India, a land fertile in magicians and necromancers, as well as in saints and sages; but though the person and extraordinary attributes of this holy man were well known in Persia, and throughout all the east, no one in all these countries could give any account either of his family, the place of his birth, his age, or even of the way in which he lived and moved from place to place. Strange tales were told of his age, and of the power he possessed of transporting himself to great distances in an incredibly short time:-his appearance was that of a man in the prime of life, yet he had been known to speak of periods and events of very remote occurrence, as from his own knowledge, so that those who heard him were constrained to believe that his mortal span had been preternaturally extended. He was never seen to partake of dates between travellers in countries either of meat or drink, and a comparison widely distant, who each had met with this extraordinary person, reduced them to the perplexing dilemma of attributing to him the power of ubiquity, or of a miraculously rapid locomotion.

"The Sheikh was believed to profess the tenets of that sect of religious sceptics called Sooffees; but the rigid austerity and self-denial of his life, its blameless tenor, and the power of his eloquence in the mosques, when preaching to the people on the sublimer doctrines of their religion, all caused him to be looked upon as a worthy pillar of Islamism ;-even the priests and

Moollahs of the most celebrated shrines, though they hated and feared him for his extraordinary influence and endowments, did not dare to deny his claims to supereminent piety.

"But the Sheikh possessed other and more powerful holds on the minds of the people at large. Intimately acquainted with the motions of the heavenly bodies, and their powers over and sympathies with the animal and vegetable worlds, he was a profound astrologer; he surpassed Aristotle as a philosopher, and Avicenna or Hippocrates in medical skill. The unerring certainty of his predictions, and the accuracy with which he decided upon lucky hours and minutes, together with the mystery in

which much of his life and actions were shrouded, while they raised him almost to, the rank of a prophet in popular estimation, caused him also to be regarded in some de gree as a magician, and one possessing power over the genii and spirits of the ele ments: what wonder then, that my mother's excited imagination should hail the arrival of such a person, at such a moment, as a special interposition of destiny? Men, of such holy stamp have always free access to every part of the household; and woe to that husband, father, or official, who should in any way impede the progress, or oppose the will, of Sheikh Allee Calunder!

"On being informed, by an attendant, of the pregnant lady's wish to see and converse with him, the Sheikh solemnly, and even mournfully, pronounced his blessing. Peace be with thy lady, so long as heaven wills it! the cares of her soul are known to me, and I come to soothe them; lead me straightway to her presence!' So saying, he followed the slave to my mother's apartment.

"The Sheikh, it has already been said, appeared to be a man in his prime; scarce did he seem to have numbered thirty winters his hair, grown to immense length and thickness, was plaited and wreathed around his head like a lofty turban, and partially sprinkled with ashes; a few feathers of a pheasant, with a branch of the Arabian jasmine, were stuck fancifully on one side; two full, piercing, and deep-seated eyes, blazed from under brows of intense thought, above which rose his high and noble forehead; a finely formed and aquiline nose gave dignity to his face, naturally of a graceful oval, but which now, thin and care-worn, betokened the austerities of penance and abstinence; a large and handsome beard hung in undulating curls around his cheeks, and half concealed a mouth, which could fascinate by the sweetness of its smile, or add terror to the dark frown of the brow.

"The figure of the Sheikh was in harmony with his countenance: lofty, graceful, and nervous, it bespoke the power of the mind that animated, yet seemed to prey upon it; for his frame was wasted almost to emaciation. A tattered mantle, of various colours, formed but a scanty covering to the upper part of his body; a thin strip of cloth was wound around his loins ; the skin of a tiger hung over his shoulders; on his feet he wore the wooden slippers common to dervishes; and in his hand he bore a stick of ebony, with a crooked crutchlike handle, on which, when seated in meditation, he could rest his arm, and to which many people attributed much of his supposed magical power.

"The Sheikh, as he entered the room, at the upper end of which my mother was seated upon a cushion, solemnly uttered

the salutation of peace, in the name of God and his prophet; and seating himself opposite to her, remained for more than a minute bending his keen eyes mournfully on her countenance. No one ventured to interrupt this silence, till the Dervish himself at length spoke as follows:- Daugh ter! the angels of good and of evil are alike the messengers of Allah, and both must be received with meekness and humility; learn, then, to bend with resignation to his will, that the blessings which his goodness be stows may not elevate thee unduly, nor the sorrows he permits to assail thee in this vale of tears weigh too heavily on thy soul. Thou hast dreamed a dream, which indeed has in part imaged to thy sleeping mind the future destiny of thyself and of thy offspring. Thy soul shall be gladdened by the birth of a son, but thy joy shall not long endure. He will be lost to thee before his youthful energies have attained maturity; many perils, much of adversity and various adventure, shall he experience, but it will be to surmount them all; for more of good than of evil fortune is writ ten on his forehead, and his star shines, brightly though it be environed with many baleful influences! But here the veil is dropt, and Heaven, in mercy to its creatures, denies the dangerous gratification of perfect foreknowledge. Be satisfied then, my daughter, with the promised good fortune of thy son, and seek no farther to pry into his destiny or thy own: be sure that, if thou dost, evil will result from the attempt. My task is now ended, and, for the present, thou seest me no more. May God protect thee!' So saying, the Sheikh arose, and quitted the apartment slowly as he had entered it, leaving all who had witnessed this extraordinary interview too much bewildered to think of stopping, or even addressing him: and whether the attendants without had held careless watch was never known, but none of them ob served the Sheikh quit the fort, or even the village, nor was he heard of any more at this period."

The lady, as might be expected, disregards the positive injunctions of this formidable person, and determines still further to gratify her curiosity, by applying to a neighbouring astro loger for such information as he cam afford with regard to the future des tiny of her son. But the astrologer confesses himself at fault; he is ruled by a higher influence, and can tell nothing which the mother of Ismael is at all desirous of hearing. She is again visited, however, by the Dervish, who thunders forth a dreadful denunciation on her rashness and obstinacy, and departs. Shortly after, the town is attacked by the Toorko

mans, who slaughter all the men, women, and children, in the place, with the exception of our hero, who excites the compassion of a chief, and is carried off into captivity. The Toorkomans are, to a certain degree, Nomadic, yet do not appear to change their residence so frequently as the Arabs. The Aoul, or encampment to which Ismael is carried, is situated in a beautiful and verdant spot on the banks of a river; and the description given of its appearance, and of the mode of life of the inhabitants, is full of barbaric freshness and interest. The Toorkomans are marked by all the vices and virtues of savage life; and he is treat ed with kindness, and brought up as the companion of Selim, the son of the chief by whom his life had been preserved.

Many years pass over him in this situation, and he grows from youth to manhood, without encountering any further vicissitudes. During this period, he falls in love with the beautiful Shireen, daughter of his master, by whom his passion is returned in all its ardour. A chappow, or predatory excursion against a neighbouring tribe, serves at length to diversify the monotony of his life at this period. We give the description of the attack, which appears to us very finely told.

"The sun had set, and the moon, fast completing her second quarter, shone full upon us before the word was given to mount and set forward. During the daylight, every one had examined his arms; repaired the damages incident to a long march; and fitting his harness and accoutrements for immediate use, had prepared himself, as well as circumstances would allow, for the chances of a desperate struggle: and when we once more resumed our march, every one knew that before we could again seek repose, or dismount from our steeds, the event of that struggle must be decided. Except to myself, however, and perhaps to one or two more raw hands, I do not believe that a reflection of the kind occurred; the rest were all too well inured to blood and danger, and too confident of success from the excellent arrangement of their measures, to think of any thing but victory and revenge; but we, who for the first time in our lives were to measure our strength in earnest against a powerful enemy, could not entirely restrain the yearnings which Nature in such cir cumstances experiences.

"We marched in perfect silence. However disorderly a body of Toorkomans may VOL. XXIV.

be on ordinary occasions, a sense of common interest restrains the most turbulent on enterprises like the present. Nothing was now to be heard but the tread of the

horses, and now and then a faint clash of arms. Every man seemed now to hold his

breath, and grasped his quiver and his bow, that their rattle might not betray them. At length the faint bark of a dog was heard by the horsemen in advance, and the whole party was once more halted. The night was more than half spent, but the plan of our leaders was not to attack the camp till the earliest dawn, that our people might have the full advantage of their enemies' surprise, without any risk of those mistakes which night attacks so often produce. The principal camps were cal

culated to be still four miles distant; so we continued full two hours in this anxious

situation, without daring to advance nearer, for fear of giving the alarm.

1

"About three in the morning, we once more got into motion: the moon was setting, and a deep gloom fell around; but the quick eyes of our leaders could detect the first flush of the false dawn in the east. As we rode along, this appearance vanished; but soon a broader light extended itself gradually from the horizon to became visible. Our band was now sepathe zenith, and objects at a little distance rated into two divisions; one of which filed off to the left, while that with which I re mained kept straight onward. Presently dark lines of low objects could be discern ed, still at a considerable distance; and we moved on in a direction that led us between two of these lines. It soon appeared that they were tents, and beyond them in. closures, containing the cattle spread over a large space of ground.

"A deep bay, or a long howl, had oc casionally given us intimation that the huge dogs which guard every tent as well as the cattle inclosures, were on the alert, though not yet alarmed; but now one or two loud, sharp barks, followed by an uni versal yell from all quarters, told us that we were discovered by these trusty guards. This was the well-known preconcerted signal: Forward! forward!' shouted Omer Khan, who was now at our head; 'Bismillah! Bismillah!'

"Allah! Allah! Tekeh! Tekeh !' answered every man, and dashed forward at full speed towards the tents. Hardly was there time for the alarm given by the dogs to be taken by the still sleeping inhabitants, when our horsemen thundered in among them. The first of the men, as they rushed from their tents to see what was the matter, ran upon our lances or swords; and even those who came from a greater distance, unarmed and confounded, fell unresisting before their ruthless murderers !

H

"Shrieks now rose on all sides :-men, women, and children, finding no safety in their tents, were seen rushing from them half naked, and attempting to fly; the dogs, frightened at the uproar, barked and bit at everything-the cattle, partaking of their terror, broke down their slender inclosures, and scoured over the plain; and the tents, the slight fastenings of which were cut by the horsemen, or burst by the flying cattle, were overturned, and their contents scattered abroad. Fires now burst forth in some, which, blazing abroad, threw a wild red gleam over the scene of tumult and carnage.

"No opposition could be offered to us, for none of our enemies could find arms or horses, nor had they any rallying point to form upon. We had but to slaughter, and mercilessly did we that morning avenge our murdered friends :-men, women, and children, fell indiscriminately in the grey dawn; for all passed so rapidly, that before the light was clear, the whole was nearly over.

"But our task was not at an end. We had, it is true, destroyed the principal division of the camp, while our friends had been as successful with another of nearly equal size; but there were several smaller Aouls in the neighbourhood, and it was soon discovered that the fugitives had gone to join one of these, the inhabitants of which, having taken the alarm, had armed themselves, and were now advancing to ascer tain and oppose the force of their enemy.

"Poor wretches! the effort was worse than useless. Not a man of our party had fallen; not a scratch was received by us in the first encounter; so that, intoxicated with carnage, and undiminished in numbers, we swept on like a whirlwind to meet them. But not a moment did they, withstand the shock: their numbers were small; they had not two hundred men, indifferently armed and mounted; and when they saw us, reeking with the slaughter of their friends, come thundering down upon them, they broke and fled: it was then too late; we overtook them in a moment, and many were at once borne down and trodden under foot. The remainder, however, seeing that nothing was to be gained by flight, took courage from despair, and boldly faced us. This was the first resistance we had met with, and I soon found all my skill called into action. "My friend and master, Selim Beg, was among the foremost of his party in pursuit: he had charged through the enemies' troop, and when they rallied he found himself in advance of his own men, and almost surrounded by five or six of the enemy. In the whole affair I had kept my eye upon him, pressing forward as close as possible to his side; and now we were together, opposed, as I have men

tioned, to some of the stoutest champions of the enemy, rendered resolute by despair. At the first charge, Selim's spear entered deeply into the breast of his opponent's horse, which, rearing upright, caught the blow intended for its rider; unable to recover itself, it fell backwards upon him; but the spear was broken, and while thus disarmed, the lance of another, at full speed, had reached within a yard of Selim's body. I saw the coming danger, and believed him lost, but rushed with my drawn sword upon the fellow, while, almost mad with alarm, I uttered a loud shout; he started at the noise, and swerved from his course the spear but grazed the shoulder of Selim, though the shock almost overthrew his horse ;-but my sword descended on the neck of the foe as he passed, and he rolled from his horse upon the ground. I gazed at his huge body for an instant, as he lay, and drew my long-held breath; but this ill-timed pause was nearly fatal. I was recalled to myself by a blow, which, parried by Selim's sword, whistled harmlessly past my head, and we were instantly and closely engaged with two others of the enemy, who came spurring to support their fellow comrades. Others of our people now joined us, just as Selim had succeeded in cleaving his opponent's head; while I, less fortunate, received a blow on the neck, which, though the wound it inflicted was slight, almost tumbled me from my horse; and I might have fared ill enough, had not my old friend Hamet, who, from the first rencounter had kept me in view, spurred up at the moment, and thrust his lance through the man who dealt it.

"I saw nothing more for some time; but, indeed, the whole was over-the flower of the enemy's force had been destroyed, and the rest in flight fell an easy prey, or escaped by the fleetness of their horses and superior knowledge of the ground. Our men now halted, and stragglers from the pursuit came in to the loud shouting of their comrades. We returned to the scene of our first attack, while a small force was sent to the inferior camps to seize the women and children, and bring the most valuable of the movables to the place of rendezvous.

"To one, like me, unaccustomed to car nage, it was an appalling scene. In the intoxication of youthful spirits, maddened by the shouting and the din of arms, the atrocities that were committed by the uncertain light of early morning, had, in a great measure, escaped my notice :-in the eagerness of doing, I hardly looked at what was done but now, as we returned to the scene of horror, with spirits satiated with carnage, and saw the victims of our fury, cold, silent, stiffening in their blood, with what different feelings did I view it! Life