navigation of the ship, particularly was very interesting ;-the nicety with which she was steered between huge lumps that threatened destruction to her bows, notwithstanding the ice-knees with which she was guarded without. The view also from the mast-head was magnificent; sometimes consisting of a number of patches, among which it was necessary to steer carefully, in order to arrive at a spot where a whale was seen blowing; sometimes of an immense floe, by which is meant one complete body of ice of many miles in diameter; and sometimes an ice-field was before us, that is a mass of ice, of which its boundaries could not be traced even from the mast-head. The fishing went on with tolerable success. And a bear was shot, and sometimes a narwhal or sea unicorn was killed. The latter besides giving very fine fat, yielded a species of ivory, its horn being spiral, pure white, and heavy. Some of the horns were even ten feet long; and it was usual to have them polished and made into bed-posts in Hull. Towards the end of the season, a fish had been struck, and took a great deal of killing; the ship had gradually neared the boats, and at length Captain Bunting ordered the topsails to be clewed down, and jumping into the jolly boat, ordered four of us to follow him, and went to assist in lancing. The whale was by this time so weakened, and so nearly dead, that he alternately sunk a little below the surface of the water, and rose again. We pulled for his side-fin, when just as we were nearing him he sunk again, and before we could back off, rose again immediately beneath us, raising boat and men upon his back, and canting us all into the water. There being no other harm done, it created a hearty laugh all round as they picked us up,-still, however, when they came to me it was Ah, P. you unlucky dog, what d-l sent you into the boat? There could be no better luck if you were there." The fish was soon dispatched, and having got him in, Captain B. bore up for the southward, intending to proceed on the homeward voyage. 66 I have omitted to say, that in counting the number of the harpineers in each ship, the master and the mate are each one. But as circumstances may and frequently do arise, which make it improper for both these officers to be absent from the ship at the same time, there is always a person, rated as a boat-steerer, but an aspirant for the office of harpineer, who officiates for either of those principals, and is called the loose harpineer. I mention this, as introductory to the account of my final disaster in the good ship 66 Ilchester," and certainly confirmatory of the impressions received of me. The accident which I have now to describe, separated me for ever from that vessel;-it was the conductor that led directly to all my future adventures,—it was attended with a catastrophe unfortunate enough to some that were included in it, and seemed to be the winding up of my character on board the Ilchester, as an unlucky wight, carrying mischief and misfortune to all who came within the sphere of my action. And here I cannot help pausing, to admire the apparent strangeness of my destiny. I neither do nor ever did believe in luck, yet through a remarkable concurrence of untoward though sometimes unimportant events, most of my acts were attended with either mischief or misfortune,-seldom such a thing took place, in which I was not included, till at length I became shunned, dreaded, deemed either like an evil genius, that blasts and injures wherever he appears, or else a castaway doomed to destruction, and hurtful to any connexion he may form. VOL. I. 21 We had arrived into the latitude of about 74 deg. and were despairing of seeing any more fish, when one afternoon, a loose fall was called, which signifies that all the boats are to be sent out in any direction they think best, but keeping an eye on each other. This is done upon occasions when many fish are visible, and none stationary. Captain Bunting being willing, as he said, to give me one more chance of (luffing up out of the eddy,) sent me into the boat with the loose harpineer;-we were not long before we got into a regular chase, now coming up with our game, then left in the lurch by his plunging below and running a-head; but ever leaving a greasy streak by which we could trace his course. Twice we were so near that the loose harpineer cast his instrument,-the first time he missed him-upon the second occasion it struck, but being so far off, it did not hold,—and away the monster started with redoubled speed. Again we pursued in his wake, with an eagerness proportioned to the difficulty, and for the sake of our harpineer who was much esteemed in the ship, and whose character would be much enhanced by his success. Still the fish ran and stopped alternately, chafing our tempers to the extent of our patience, but never giving a fair opportunity to attack him. Unhappily our over-anxiety caused us to forget both the ship and the other boats, and it was not till we were all nearly worn out, and in despair of success, that we began to look about We were all struck with us. Ship or boat there was none to be seen. consternation,-what was to be done?-which way should we pull to fall in with them again? So devious had been our course in the pursuit, that we knew not how the ship ought to bear from us,-we did not even know how long we had been engaged, for having no night, the time of day was deceptive. We resolved finally to lay on our oars, in the persuasion that we must have been watched from the ship, and that they would drop down to us ;this relieved us for a time; forgetful that the other crews might have been equally intent on their sport, and that she could not pick us all up in different directions. A weft in the ship's ensign was the usual signal of recal, but no one had even thought of recal, or of looking at the ship, during the excitement. After waiting a long time, every minute of which was centupled in our uneasy minds, no ship appeared, but something worse threatened us. A fog began to settle upon the surface of the water, at first thinly, but gradually becoming more and more dense. Our state now became perilous. We were on the wide Arctic ocean, without provisions, without shelter, without a guess as to the route we should take; surrounded by the obscurity of a fog, and liable to be run down by any vessel,-even our own, before we could be aware. Bitter were my feelings under these circumstances, for well I knew that if relief did not reach us before long, the weight of their indignation would fall upon me, and I might even be made a sacrifice, to their prejudices, their rage, or even their wants. Silently but fervently did I pray for extrication from this woful predicament. I avoided making myself noticed by word or deed,--but in vain, a superstitious Shetlander, remarked, that P., the unlucky, was in the boat, and therefore it was no wonder we were in danger of perishing. The cry being raised against me, every throat poured forth vollies of abuse upon me, "unlucky lubber," "d―d cur," "cursed Yankee," fell in torrents upon my devoted head, and I have not a doubt, that the resolution would have been taken, to save their lives by 66 ridding the world of a Jonah, if they had not been obliged to employ the horns and their voices, in hailing continually, to prevent being run down, or to make our distresses known. Gradually hunger and thirst were added to fatigue and apprehension. There were two barekas of fresh water, and a bottle of rum in the boat. The harpineer allowed a little to each, but when I in my turn approached, I was saluted with, no, infernal dog-die and be d-d." I retreated in dismay, for I found not a pitying eye to commisserate my undeserved sufferings. But though they allowed me nothing wherewith to sustain me, they omitted not to make me take my share of the fatigue. I was set to blow the horn, and was reminded that as I had brought the boat's crew into the predicament, the least I could do was to endeavor to get them out of it. I obeyed, though with difficulty, for my strength was nearly gone; but the fear of my own companions, whose savage looks gave power to my lungs, enabled me to blow a few blasts, and shortly after I had commenced, a large dark mass was dimly seen looming through the fog, shapeless in appearance, but close at hand. HER NAME, FROM THE FRENCH OF VICTOR HUGO. THE lily's pure perfume, the brightest glow The Evening's latest sigh of bliss, The grief of friendship mourning, yet consoled, The seven-fold scarf by tempests wrought on high, The thrilling accents of a welcome voice, The distant warblings of some choral lay, Soft should its sounds be heard as secret vow, Kindling the darksome shrine with heavenly flame! In tones that burn with living fire, Nor blend with names proclaimed by wanton pride Unless those notes might catch the hallowed style To the repentant sinner's ear; The air around with solemn voices thrilling As though, sweet music from his wings distilling, W. TURKEY, FROM THE DIARY OF A TRAVELLER. THE following pages having in view no other object, than simply to give a very general outline of Constantinople as a picture, with a delineation of the effects of the late system of reform adopted by its Sultan, have no claim to regularity, or harmonious adjustment of parts. They are intended, simply, to show, how fallacious are the expectations founded on that great commencement, which was the wonder, and I may add, the admiration of the world. Situated on a gentle acclivity, from its point, which stretches into the sea, and forming a triangle, as it retires; one of the sides of which are washed by the Marmora, and another by an arm of the Bosphorus, whilst its surface is gently undulated into those graceful mounds, which, like those of Rome, have given it the proud title of the Seven-Hilled City; it combines beauty, usefulness, and protection. Its site, that of the ancient Byzantium, was selected by its Roman founder-as he himself informs us-by the express command of the Almighty, conveyed to him in a vision! It is impossible to conceive scenery more varied in objects of contemplation, than that of the approach to it through the Propontis. Nature's beauties are here redolent of variety. High mountains, rich vallies, verdant islands, and populous cities, enter into one single prospect, whilst each new presentation of the capital itself seems to excite admiration more powerfully than the last. The snow-clad summit of Olympus rears his hoary crest in the distance, and like the Pythoness of old, seems to revel in the wreck of empire. The novelty of each object in the perspective fills the western eye with wonder; the general aspect of nature herself, the style of building, the gilded domes of the mosques, with the tall pyramidal form of their minarets, all heightened and enhanced by the contrasting height of numerous groves of the graceful cypress, bending their slender forms to each soft breeze, as if in humble submission to the great power which moves them,-ever and anon, sending forth that low plaintive sound, which was the origin of the beautiful couplet of Byron: "Dark tree-still sad when others' grief is fled, Here let the enthusiast pause, and luxuriate to satiety-for the promise of the far approach is never to be fulfilled by the more intimate examination. He enters the city, and a reaction of disgust comes like a blight upon his imagination, from which he never recovers till seated on some of the adjacent eminences, or bounding in his light caique o'er the miniature waves of the Bosphorus, he can recal, in some new form, the pleasing associations of his introduction. The harbor, every way deserving of its cognomen, "The Golden Horn," consists of a branch of the Bosphorus, which extending about a mile westward, receives the tribute of the river of the "Sweet Waters," the ancient Lycus, lending to it a very continuous appearance. On the northern side of this is situated Galeta and Pera, with their suburbs, whilst opposite lies Constantinople proper. The town of Scutari, on the Asiatic side of the eanal, as the Bosphorus is termed, enters also into the estimate as part of the capital itself. Within the walls of the city, the mosques are by far the most conspicuous and attractive objects to strangers; and there are none that require more patience and perseverance, to enable him to accomplish even a casual interior glance of. In those denominated "imperial," it is almost impossible to be admitted by any overt act of license. The entrance is only effected under cover of some secret sanction-a something which is narrowly looked upon, yet not seen. Still, many travellers have found their way thither by bribery, and other indirect means, but most commonly under favor of that reverential abstraction, which is the characteristic of the Turkish devotions, and which no outward act of surprise can disturb-not even the unhallowed tread of the Giaour. There is very little variety or difference in the interior arrangements of their mosques, being entirely without ornament, except indeed certain inscriptions from the Koran on the walls, and as I am informed, (but never witnessed,) some emblematic allusions to the Caaba, the famous temple at Mecca. Of all the mosques, St. Sophia is most difficult of access; from what cause it is not easy to explain. Here it was that the Christian emperors were installed in their dignity and authority; here it was that Heraclius, bound by his patriarch, forswore his flight to Carthage, and prolonged his empire; here it was that the schisms of the Grecian and Roman churches were so violently agitated; and here it is, in the very place where Christians have, at least, a prescriptive right of admission, that the doors are pertinaciously closed against them. The wrath of the Almighty was invoked on the primitive churches of the east, and as if the doom with which they desired to overwhelm others, should be visited on their own after progeny, St. Sophia, instead of witnessing the devotions of the disciples of the cross, is now the temple of an almost Pagan worship and superstition. From the present condition of the Turks, we may see a practical illustration of the condition of our own ancestors, centuries back; making due allowances for the effects of climate and political relations, with their influence on national character in general. The Turks to a certain extent may be considered as still holding a primitive designation. Change and innovation are in complete opposition to their religious creed, and therefore to their national character; and what they were ages back, in the main, they still continue to be. With us, in all the different branches of government, of literature, and of arts, the grand principle has ever been to make the most of past experience. Therefore, under all these heads, the practice has been in conformity with the improved state of science in each age; and our manners and customs, have been undergoing continual revolutions. Let us not, however, condemn the Turks, for only making a sacrifice of temporal, to what they deem spiritual advantages. The injunctions of their false religion require a strict adherence to the early habits and customs of their race; and these are found in almost every page of their Koran. Whilst, then, they pursue the even tenor of their way, strong in the belief of the efficacy of their tenets-however, we may pity the delusions of their creed, they are themselves far from censurable;-for let that religion seem ever so absurd to us—it is the mode by which they hope to gain happiness in a future state, and the best evidence they can exhibit of purity of principle is, |