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of a doctrine which Wordsworth preached but was wise enough rarely to practise. It is prose several degrees beyond proof. It is double-distilled, concentrated essence of prose.

If Mrs. Browning had erred only in this respect, she might perhaps have been forgiven. Unfortunately this is not the case. She is so de

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termined to be original and forcible
that she becomes offensive. The
ear, the taste, the feelings of her
readers are by turns sacrificed to
this desperate determination. Things
sublime are made ridiculous, things
sacred profane, and things refined
and delicate coarse and vulgar, for
the sake of it. Take the following in-
stances, among innumerable others:

He cross'd the hills on visits to my Aunt
A book in one hand, mere statistics (if
You chanc'd to lift the cover), count of all
The goats whose beards are sprouting down to hell
Against God's separating judgment-hour.

While tragic voices that clanged keen as swords,
Leapt high together with the altar-flame
And made the blue air wink :-

I never envied Graham his breadth of style,
Which gives you, with a random smutch or two
(Near-sighted critics analyse to smutch),
Such delicate perceptions of full life.

The lion in me felt the keeper's force
Through all its quivering dewlaps.

Waldemar,

a

rival, the gentle

What analysing to smutch' may
mean I forbear to inquire. To Lady Aurora writes as follows:-

For which inheritance beyond your birth,
You sold that poisonous porridge called your soul.

This is powerful, and so is
Billingsgate.

Of the mode in which Mrs.

Browning treats things sacred, here are a few examples. In creating man, she says,

Consummating himself, the Maker sigh'd,

As some strong winner at the footrace sighs
Touching the goal :—

Earth, she remarks, was shut up by Adam 'like a fakir in a box,'

A mere dumb corpse, till Christ the Lord came down,
Unlock'd the doors, forced open the blank eyes,

And used his kingly chrisms to straighten out
The leathery tongue turned back into the throat.
Yet He can pluck us from that shameful cross;
God, set our feet low and our forehead high:
And show us how a man was made to walk :-
Leave the lamp, Susan, and go up to bed.

The force of bathos could no further go. I said that in this poem there were passages of power and beauty; but if this lady would do herself justice, and occupy that precise station on Parnassus for which nature has qualified her, she must give up altogether this transatlantic and otherwise objectionable style of composition.

Thoughts about books are prolific thoughts; the reproductive principle is strong within them. Writing, for instance, about poetry reminds me of Shakspeare, and Shakspeare reminds me that I have

If

said nothing of plays, and of the mysterious fact that, with the exception of 'screaming' farces and gorgeous spectacles, few care to write or to see them now. Shakspeare_had lived in these days he would, I suppose, have written novels, probably not in monthly parts. Upon this subject, as upon many others, I would willingly have said something; but time and space, which, philosophically speaking, have, I am aware, no existence at all, but, practically speaking, are very real and embarrassing entities, interpose insuperable objections.

H.

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A VISIT TO MOUNT ARARAT.

To those who cannot at times

cheerfully dispense with personal comfort and convenience, at least according to English notions on these points, travelling in Asia Minor will prove a trial of endurance rather than a source of pleasure. And yet the attractions of those regions are many and varied. Rich in historic associations, the study of their present condition, though painful, would be interesting and instructive; while the geologist and naturalist would there find ample materials for scientific investigation.

It would be foreign to the character of these rambling notes to enter upon learned dissertations or to attempt deep researches. Quotations from Herodotus, Strabo, and other ancient writers on Asia Minor, might impress the reader with the idea of learning; but they would be of little use in helping him to form a correct notion of the actual state of things in these once fair realms. Modern writers, on the other hand, have as yet but glanced at the subject. Their opportunities of examining it have been few; their observations superficial. Heretofore the country has been as it were out of the beaten track; and until the late Russian war indued it with a startling inte rest, it was but little known or thought of in Western Europe.

As that interest has not yet subsided, the experiences of a recent sejour in those parts may prove acceptable to some of our readers; and though they do not profess to supply the grave deficiency of information that prevails respecting a country of such importance in ancient times, yet they may contribute in some degree to keep alive the attention lately drawn to it, an attention to which, from every consideration, both political and geographical, it is abundantly entitled.

Having on a previous occasion described the country between Erzeroum and Kyuprikyui,* let us now suppose ourselves at Delibaba, which is about twenty-eight miles,

or seven hours, distant from the latter place. And here we may observe that throughout the Ottoman dominions distances are reckoned by hours, the measure of which must be understood by reference to the topography of the country and to the mode of travelling. The slow, uniform pace of the camel, varying little on mountain or plain, is said to have suggested the origi nal standard, which may be taken at a league. But in common parlance the hour represents the average distance that can be traversed in that period. Consequently there are hours of the mountain and hours of the plain; the horseman's and the pedestrian's hours; the katirji (muleteer) and menzil (courier) hours. And until the traveller becomes familiar with these distinctions, he is likely to be often perplexed by the replies to his inquiries.

Coming from Kyuprikyui our road lay through a fertile country, which gradually losing its level character, increased in undulating inequalities until it blends with the mountain slopes. It is intersected by some deep ravines and valleys through which the southern tributaries of the Arras find a channel; and thriving villages are found at short intervals, all of which are inhabited by Armenians.

Delibaba is six miles from the right bank of the Arras, in a sheltered situation at the foot of the Bingol Mountains. Nearly surrounded by an amphitheatre of rocky heights, all the approaches from the east, south, and west are by narrow and tortuous passes, which it would be difficult to force against a resolute enemy, however small his numbers. A scanty stream coming from the Bingol Mountains waters and fertilizes this position, and then pursues its course through an opening in the heights to the Arras. Within the amphitheatre all the available land is turned to good account for wheat, barley, and vegetable gardens; while to the north-east the ground, rising to a high level, stretches away for leagues

* 'Visit to Kars,' Fraser's Magazine, February, 1857.

VOL. LX. NO. CCCLV.

H

in a tableland of rich meadows and pastures.

From this brief description it will be seen that Delibaba is an important strategic position, commanding as it does the main road from Bayazid, and the road from Erzeroum to Kars by Kuyprikyui. The Russians fully appreciated its value; and seizing the place soon after it was vacated by Veli Pasha in 1855, they menaced Erzeroum, thus furnishing to the legion of Turkish generals assembled in that city a pretext for making no effort in behalf of Kars.

The merits of this pretext will be apparent when it is considered that the Turkish force at Erzeroum was at least ten thousand strong, with six well-appointed field batteries; while the Russians at Delibaba fell short of two thousand men of all. arms, six light guns forming their field train. The Turks, in addition to superiority of numbers, would have had the advantage of operating in their own country, on a secure base, and with ample resources in the rear. The Russians, on the contrary, were an isolated band, with no supplies but what were to be obtained from day to day by their foraging parties. Their communications with Kars or Bayazid could have been easily intercepted; and if forced to retreat, they would have had to cut their way through a country infested by Kurds and bands of armed robbers, who, as we know, do not show much forbearance to either friend or foe. But they knew well with whom they had to deal. Their safety lay, not in their own strength, but in the immovable apathy of the Turks. No one understood better than Selim Pasha the true state of affairs; but when urged to act in conformity with common sense or military principles, he invariably excused himself by underrating his own force and exaggerating fourfold that of the Russians.

The population of Delibaba is exclusively Armenian, and numbers thirty-five families. The war had left them scarce a moiety of the sheep and cattle they had previously possessed; and they were still kept in constant terror by the Kurds of the adjacent mountains. As to re

sistance or self-defence, the idea seemed to have no place in their minds. The bare suggestion of it was received with evident surprise and uneasiness, as if we ought to have known that the possession of arms is forbidden to the Armenians by their Turkish masters. There

is more in this than strikes the ear. The Armenian may defend himself or property if he can or dare; but the pride of Mussulman bigotry refuses to the subject Christian the privilege of wearing arms, because, as formerly in the West, they are still in the East regarded as the badge of freedom and independence.

The visit of three English beys' was a stirring event to this sequestered little community. The best house in the place was selected for our accommodation; and the mudir (petty governor), our host, and all others who could find a pretext for doing us service, were emulous in their zeal. Here, as in other Armenian villages, it was painful to observe the abject servility-nay, the air of complaisance with which all classes submitted to the domineering conduct of our military attendant, who, in dealing with this conquered race, would give weight to his words and orders by a liberal use of the stick. And yet there was nothing harsh or overbearing in the man's general character. He was acting in accordance with the usage of the country, a usage sanctioned by time and authority-namely, that the Turk is to treat the Armenian as an inferior animal, and that the Armenian is to submit, as a matter of course, to be so treated. Such is the compact that regulates the social relations of the two races, being mutually understood and faithfully adhered to in its terms. That such a state of things is wrong every one knows; that it can last much longer no one believes; but so engrained has it become on the habits of the people, so identified with their feelings and modes of thinking, that the introduction of a better system will be found a slow, a difficult, and even a thankless process. For it is a lamentable truth, that human nature may be come so degraded as even to love its degradation and cherish the yoke to which it has grown familiar.

1859.]

The Bingol Mountains-Tahir.

With the common run of Armenians, civil speeches, fair words, or remonstrances, are thrown away. They are novelties to which he listens with incredulity or suspicion. Long experience has taught him to believe that harshness and severity are the natural adjuncts of authority, and that an order may be evaded or disregarded, unless it is accompanied with violence in some shape or other. A kick and a blow are consequently mere conventional modes of giving due emphasis to words, and they are received as such without murmuring or resentment.

Soon after we had taken up quarters in our khan, we received a visit of ceremony from the priest of the place, accompanied by his curate. They were stupid, illiterate men; and but for their long black cassocks and square-crowned black caps, could not be distinguished from the peasants of the field. Under their guidance we visited their place of worship, an ancient building much impaired by time, but still deserving of notice. Close by, a mausoleum of the same date shelters the ashes of some venerated saint whose name and history have escaped our memory.

Starting at an early hour next morning, we were soon in a deep gorge, through which the road, skirting a noisy brook, leads to the passes of the Bingol Mountains. This gorge is about a mile in length, nowhere more than fifty yards wide, and narrows in some parts to twenty. It is nearly straight from end to end; and on both sides solid walls of dark-coloured conglomerate rise perpendicularly to a height of several hundred feet, so nearly coinciding in aspect and the inequalities of surface as to impress the belief that they were riven asunder in some convulsive strife of nature. Strag gling brushwood and a few stunted pines crown the heights and grow from the fissures of the rock. All else is utter barrenness; and scenery more savage and solitary, poet or painter could not well conceive.

Emerging from this gorge the mountains began to rise before us in outlines of gradually-increasing variety and boldness. Some heavy showers had cooled the air, and

113

imparted additional freshness to the verdure that covered the heights to the very summit. The road was, for Armenia, good; the land everywhere excellent; the valleys through which our course often led were fertile, Iwell watered, and well sheltered; and as the solar heat during the summer months is tempered in these parts by the mountain breezes, the climate is healthful and genial.. But yet for leagues there was not a living thing to take advantage of these gifts of nature. There were no cottages or enclosures in those pleasant glens; no sheep or cattle on those ample pastures; no milldams or water-furrows to be supplied by those sparkling streams. All around was silent as the grave. Even the wild sheep, which we were told abound here, kept well out of sight; and a solitary fox was the only living thing we saw in our morning ride of some twelve miles.

We halted for a couple of hours at a wretched hamlet called Esheklu (the donkey rider), where we obtained an indifferent breakfast, and treated our horses to the luxury of a feed and a roll on the green grass. A little farther on we came up with two English friends whom the love of travel had led to these unfrequented parts. They had started from Erzeroum a few days before us; and as they were accompanied by interpreter, servants, and bathorses, we found, on uniting forces, that we mustered a strong cavalcade.

Towards sunset we arrived at Tahir, three hours distant from Esheklu. It is a village of some twenty Kurdish families, embosomed in a picturesque valley, and possessing the advantages of good water in abundance, good land for pasture and tillage, and brushwood on the neighbouring heights for fuel. Tahir is an Arabic word signifying 'clean;' and making a charitable allowance for Eastern ideas and habits, the term is not inapplicable to the place. The houses, which are good of their kind, were well swept and garnished; and the women were constantly bustling about, attending to. the domestic matters, to the cattle, and to the fields. In fact, all the work of the community seemed to devolve on them.

Personal attractions are rare. amongst the Kurdish women, but we were fain to admire their air of freedom and independence, at variance though it be with the notions of female propriety that obtain in the East. They mingle freely with the men, and even towards strangers affect none of that coyness which would hide the features from vulgar gaze. And yet report speaks well of their virtue and fidelity,-qualities which are rarely to be found beneath the convenient disguise of the yash-mak (veil).

It

At Tahir we heard strong complaints against the Russians. should be stated that after the fall of Kars' the detachment that had been at Delibaba retired by this line on Bayazid, helping themselves all along their route with a strong hand to everything that the country could supply. This was but fair, seeing they were passing through an enemy's country, and dealing with the property of enemies. But, as we shall see by and bye, they did not always observe the bounds of military license; and though there was forbearance in their conduct towards Armenians, they were often unscrupulous in inflicting gratuitous mischief on Turks and Kurds.

were

Prudence enjoins an early start when travelling during the summer months in Armenia. The mornings are always fresh for three or four hours after sunrise; and though the midday heat is not oppressive when the head is well protected, yet the custom of the country is to devote to rest that portion of the day when the sun's heat is at its greatest; one's servants expect it, and even the horses become sluggish or irritable if forced to work on. To this custom we adhered as far as possible. And accordingly, getting under weigh from Tahir long before the sun's rays had dispelled the heavy dews of the valley, we addressed ourselves to the steep heights which now intervened between us and the plain of Alishkurd.

The scenery of this morning's ride was as beautiful of its kind as any country or region could present. The mountains rose on either side

in round swelling masses, over which aspringtide verdure prevailed, interrupted here and there by the dark forms of rocky ridges that scarped a slope or cresteda height. The country was still unchanged in its fertility; and while the uplands were dotted with stunted pines, eglantines in full blow, wild cherry and apple trees in blossom, and flowering shrubs of different kinds, grew in profusion on the lower levels, scenting the air with their mingled fragrance. But no human being had made his habitation here; and the calls of the cuckoo and landrail were the only sounds we heard for leagues.

There was something in this vast and beautiful solitude, lit up by a bright sun and seen through a clear atmosphere, that led to a train of quiet thought, and produced a tranquillizing effect on the feelings. We all experienced this; and under its influence conversation gradually subsided into silence. The road had narrowed to a bridle path; and we were obliged to ride in single file as we slowly ascended a steep eminence over which a difficult pass opened the way to the plain of Alishkurd. We had arrived within pistol-shot of the entrance of this pass, when suddenly a single horseman made his appearance on the summit. A wild-looking, picturesque fellow was he with his heavy turban of purple and red, crimson jacket and shawl girdle, charged to the full with pistols and daggers. A rifle was slung from his shoulder; a heavy, curved sword hung from his waist, and he carried in his right hand the Kurdish lance, with long bamboo handle, and tuft of hair fluttering from the lance-head. The horse he rode corresponded well with the rider, being gaily tricked out with red tassels and tawdry ornaments. He was of the true Kurdish breed; too small perhaps, according to English notions, but strong, compact, and clean-limbed, fitted equally for service in the mountain and the plain.

Horse and rider would have been a worthy subject for Horace Vernet's pencil; and they stood on the very spot where the painter would have placed them to give effect to the surrounding scenery.

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