And if man tread not with as proud a mien,
Still woman's eye as bright, her cheek as fair,
Her voice as sweet, her forehead as serene,
On Misraim's land,-'tis not the same, for there
Time has e'en wasted that which he is wont to spare.

The change is not in Nile; upon his breast
The lotus cradles still as pure and white,
And still the date-palm is as gaily drest,
And the gold-flower'd acacia still as bright;
But where the garden and the waste unite,
Is not the place where they were wont to meet :
O'er Goshen's pleasant land has pass'd a blight;
The desert has encroach'd with stealthy feet,
And cover'd o'er the vale as though its winding-sheet.

And what her children now?-the trav'ler meets
Slave in the land where once his sires held sway;
The cringing Copt in Cairo's narrow streets
Condemn'd to serve the stranger of to-day,
And lick the dust for tyrant's petty pay,
Nor less his mind degraded. How has all
The splendour of his genius pass'd away!
He stands within his fathers' mightiest hall,
No pride inspires his eye-no glory gilds his fall.

In Memphis' halls the tones of sweetness flow'd,
Where mingle now harsh voices o'er the plain;
On Memphis' halls the form of beauty glow'd,
Such as her land shall never see again;
The cerements of the tomb alone contain
The form like hers of symmetry sublime :*
Athor, whose fair face shines on Dendra's fane,

The brighter Venus of a brighter clime,

These locks were raven once-the rust is that of time.

Yet time hath spared that which he doth destroy;
Spared-even as the caged lion spares

One victim-one to serve him for a toy.
With him his daily board and bed he shares,
And grown at last familiar, no more cares

A hungry eye towards him to allow

It is so here; and time no longer dares

To crumble down one fragment from that brow;

For he hath spared so long, he may not touch it now.

*The proportions of the mummy of a female being taken, were found to correspond closely with those of the Venus de' Medici, whence it is supposed that the ancient inhabitants of Egypt were of Caucasian descent. Athor, according to Wilkinson, was the Egyptian Venus.

Eternal rocks, that in the torrent stand!
The flood of ages howling at your feet;

What though the tide heave forth his boundless sand,
In vain attempt to conquer by deceit;

Serene ye stand, and smile at his defeat,
And man would place his image on this throne,
And thought to make it his abiding seat,*
Thereon surviving from the wreck alone,
To be, perhaps, a god to nations then unknown.

But time would not permit that man should ford
The stream of ages thus, and from its seat
Dash'd down the image of earth's haughty lord,
And trampled it to dust beneath his feet,
But left the noble pedestal complete.

Enough, vain man-enough-the mountain bears
Thy chisel on its brow-the storms that beat

Will soften, not efface, the scars it wears,

And men shall know for ever that the mighty work is theirs.

THE JANIZARY'S BRIDE.

BY J. ROSS.

AMURATH, the first of his name who wielded the Turkish scimetar, was a bold and vindictive prince, firm in his resolves, and devotedly attached to his country. Under him, the laws were respected, his dominions increased; and by him was formed the invincible body of the janizaries, who, by his successors, have been termed the "nerve and sinew" of the Ottoman Empire. By the sacred laws of Mohammed, the reigning prince, amongst other advantages, was entitled to the fifth part of the spoils and captives. This the prince perceived, and it was this which first directed his attention to the troops, and which afterwards tended to such beneficial results. In 1389, an edict was proclaimed throughout the empire, demanding that the stoutest and most beautiful Christian youths should be selected for his use. The natives, accustomed to obey their sultan and their laws, resigned without a murmur their hard-earned prize; and in a few days, thousands of the European captives were submitted to his care, to be educated in the Mohammedan religion and arms. This new militia was shortly after consecrated, and named by a celebrated dervish, who, whilst standing in the front of their ranks, stretched the sleeve of his gown over the head of the foremost soldier, and delivered his blessing in these swords :-"Let them be called 'janizaries;' may their countenance be ever bright—their hand victorious; their swords

* According to Herodotus, each of the principal pyramids was originally surmounted by a statue of its founder.

keen; may their spear always be upon the heads of their enemies; and, wherever they go, may they return with a white face."

Such was the origin of those haughty troops, the most firm and faithful supporters of Ottoman greatness; the terror of surrounding nations, and, sometimes, of sultans themselves. The whole body was divided into four squadrons, each containing a certain number of troops or ortas; and each orta, besides the standard and horsetail, raised before the tent of the agar, had its own particular ensign; but the most important distinction, in their estimation, was the caldron attached to each division, and placed under the care of the subaltern officers; the loss of this was considered the greatest misfortune that could befal the regiment; and if it was taken in war, all the officers were immediately cashiered; in many cases, the regiment was publicly disgraced. In these caldrons, the broth was carried from the barracks to the different guard rooms.

In 1826, these brave troops, after a glorious career of 437 years, were inhumanly destroyed by fire and sword; and that too, in the immediate presence of their Sultan. In the same year, June 17th, a proclamation was issued, abolishing the corps for ever, and laying a curse upon their name. Few escaped the dreadful massacre which surrounded them; so rigorous was the pursuit, and so faithfully was the royal mandate obeyed; and even those few were compelled, through fear of immediate death, to hide themselves in the most obscure parts of the empire, until opportunities might offer, when they could with secrecy be wafted to some foreign power, and beyond the reach of their persecutor. Amongst the number of these forlorn refugees, was a young man who had attained to great honours in the troop, and had fought with a lion's heart the battles of the Ottoman Empire. In his person he was tall and finely formed, of a noble appearance, and possessed of features of the Grecian mould. A smile seemed continually to play about his exquisitely formed lips, whilst his eyes sparkled with a fire and vivacity, which immediately prepossessed one in his favour; and his voice being soft, bland, and encouraging, seemed to add a delicacy of finish to the whole, rarely met with in more refined courts; indeed, he was a model for a warrior or a grace.

On the evening of the slaughter, he was pacing slowly and measuredly at his accustomed post, when he was suddenly startled by a vivid flame rising from the barracks at the left wing, followed by a heavy discharge of musketry into the centre of the square: ere he had entirely recovered from his surprise, the groans of his dying companions, the ear-rending shrieks of the wounded, and the disordered and dismantled state, in which they traversed the area under a deadening discharge, too plainly convinced him of the horrid slaughter, which would terminate only in the annihilation of the whole. Here and there he beheld a mounted horseman, spurring on to the various outlets, but these had been already secured, and whilst the discomfited rider was searching for some other aperture, he too shared the fate of his companions. This was the work, the sight of a moment, and as Abd-ul Hamid became fully aware of his danger-a desire of life, a desire which in honourable danger he had never known, rushed upon his mind, and seemed to be his only thought. Suddenly seizing

N. S.-VOL. VI.

2Q

the reins of his already caparisoned steed, he sprung into the saddle, and without a moment's hesitation, rushed forward to where the wall was at its lowest, for he had already seen enough to convince him that the gates were now in charge of the opposing troops. The shots spattered around him as he advanced, but he proceeded undaunted, and apparently heedless of his danger. As he neared the wall, conscious that his life rested upon the virtue of his steed, he touched him briskly with his spurs, then threw the reins upon his neck, leaned gently forward, and seemed prepared to trust his fortunes to the leap; it was a hazard which upon ordinary occasions would be shrunk from, but destruction was around him, and this appeared the only barrier between life and death the noble animal, too, seemed as if willing to fly from the massacre, and with an energy and swiftness which bespoke his Arabian blood, sprung forward, and mounted at a perpendicular above the wall; but his progress had been marked, and as he was descending from his elevated post, a ball, sent from a too certain hand, lodged at an angle from the eye; the noble beast, deserving of a better fate, plunged, with a dying yell, and fell to the earth a lifeless mass. Luckily for Abd-ul-Hamid, he secured himself from injury in the descent, and disengaging his legs from his faithful steed, was about to proceed upon his path, when a rustling noise above him attracted his attention, and looking up he beheld a horseman, descending from the leap which he had before tried, and apparently upon his track; the glance sufficed to show him he was one of the party of insurgents. The means of escape was thus unexpectedly presented, and drawing his oft-tried blade, he plunged it to the hilt in the breast of the unconscious soldier; as he received the blow, he gave a sudden cry of pain mingled with surprise at the unexpected attack, then seized his heavy musket with both hands, and aimed it at his opponent; but ere he could discharge the fatal weapon, the hands relaxed their hold, and he fell from his saddle a senseless being. Abd-ul-Hamid regarded him not, but mounting to the unoccupied seat, urged on in his intended route.

At the suburbs of the city and their very extremity, resided Mustapha, a powerful noble of the court, and who secretly aided in the destruction of the Janizaries. Abd-ul-Hamid, unconscious of this, and partly too for the love he bore his beautiful daughter, (for be it known, their troths, though privately, had long been plighted,) directed thitherward his steed, and arrived, without further molestation, about two hours after the catastrophe before described. The beauteous Ada, ever happy in his arrival, rushed forward at his entrance, and clasping him to her breast, exclaimed, whilst the tears rolled down her faded cheeks,-"He is safe, he is safe, Alla be praised! my Hamid, did they spare thee, and thee alone, in their anger? or hast thou escaped from their power, and must now fly beyond their reach?Speak! tell me true!"

"My Ada," he replied, in soothing accents, "appease your agitated mind; thus far have I escaped, but still I am not yet safe, for ere now the remorseless hinds may be upon my track; firmly do I believe they have sworn that their cimeters shall not find rest, until not a Janizary can be found to tread the earth."

"Then fly stay not to be basely murdered !-You go not!

Hamid, 'tis your Ada! your betrothed! who bids thee fly, and seek some refuge to guard thee from their rage-Go! go!" said she in a supplicating attitude, " methinks I could pray for thy absence-do not loiter thus."

“Ada, I cannot lull you into a false security,-what I have said is but too true; but should my life be the price of my temerity, still can I not leave you without acquainting you of my intended plans.-Ada, oft hast thou asked me of my birth, but until now have I eluded an answer; know then, beloved of my heart, I am a descendant of the noble family of Chatois, and am the nephew of the present Lord. My father, when young, undertook a voyage to the Dardanelles; but ere they had completed their route, they were seized by an Algerine corsair, and he, becoming the captive of a pirate, was sold as a slave. Years rolled on, and he looked forward with anxiety to the time of his freedom, but when he had regained it, so closely was he connected to the country, that he but little desired to abandon it; he had wedded a native. I was thus, though born upon the soil, considered as an European, and was selected as one of the invincible troops. Gladly would I have foregone my pretensions to the foreign name, and considering myself a son of the soil, have carved mine own greatness. Gladly would I have resigned my own life to preserve the noble troops,-but they are gone, and this last act frustrates my long cherished hopes, and obliges me to fall back upon my hereditary land as my last rescurce; to France then I go to assert my right to that which I may legally claim; and should I succeed-I need not tell thee, who shall be a participator."

"I believe it all! but we must part, for although your profession of arms has made you careless of danger, still I feel a gloomy foreboding that danger is nigh; smile not, you know I am not wont to speak thus,-Go! go! and seek your safety; should my father arrive, what would then your Ada suffer?"

"Your fears are too great,-your father would prove our friend." "Not so, Hamid; I know his thoughts; and if he styles himself your friend, it is false,—he is your enemy, your bitterest foe, and would now betray you to your death; and what would then be my fate?-Oh! Hamid, I conjure you by your love-your honour, to fly for your own safety and for mine."

"Your happiness, Ada, has and ever shall be my care, and if my absence is necessary I will go; but your last words have sunk into my heart as its knell, and make me distrust the friendship of the most devoted. Adieu, Ada! adieu-whatever may happen I will still be true."

"Hamid, my beloved! can you doubt my truth?-has my fear for your safety urged me to say that which is false?-Ah! then, stay-rest thee here; and should they come, I will die with thee to prove my love; I will follow thee to the dungeon, to your fate, whatever it may be; but do not doubt me."

"I cannot," said he, clasping her to his breast, "and would not, if the world should vouch its truth; I am hasty, but you can forgive. Ada, your words were true, and I should begone; but there is a charm which ties me here, and makes me laugh at mine own fears.

I must