stances permitted during the process of fermentation too disgusting to mention. They are equally slovenly and careless in the management of their Olives; by which a large proportion is generally lost, and the Oil, by suffering the fruit to lay in heaps til they ferment is always rancid, and of course unfit for exportation, except for the coarsest purpose; the Natives however by an unaccountable depravity of taste, prefer it on that account. Many of the Native productions of Country are wholly lost to it, owing to the supine indolence which characterises the Natives; most of the healthy parts of the Country abound with the locus Illicus or Kernes, which are sometimes collected by the country people more as articles of curiosity than use. The poppy grows with the greatest luxuriance, and it is therefore reasonable to infer, that that valuable commodity Opium might be manufactured to a considerable amount. A few years since a Frenchman formed a plantation of White Mulberry Trees in the neighbourhood of Lisbon, for the purpose of rearing Silk Worms, but like every thing else in this unhappy Country, it was suffered to languish into ruin. The Marquis of Pombel, the only enlightened Minister which this country could for many years boast of, used every means in his power for the promotion of Agriculture, but finding all gentle means ineffectual; he forcibly destroyed whole tracts of Vineyards; these and other strong measures had a temporary effect, but lasted no longer than the Minister's power. In justification however of the peasantry, it must be confessed that the toils and expence of agriculture are all their own, whilst King and Clergy claim so large a share of the produce as to discourage the practice; whereas Vines with little labor have a profit of 50 per cent. In many parts of the Country they are absolute strangers to animal food, except that on some Saint's festival, they may luxuriate on a Meal of Baccalhaó or dryed Cod-fish; even in the City, stone cutters, masons, porters, and other hard laborers, breakfast in Summer, and often dine on a bunch of grapes and piece of bread; and in Winter content themselves with a salt Sardinha imbedded in a roll; and as to drink the habits of these people are so remarkably sober, that a drunkard is scarcely known among them. That every thing in the Country is in retrograde state, is obvious to the most superficial observer; little is thought of but the concerns of a rapacious and overbearing Clergy; the finest spots in the Country are in their hands, and being in Mort-Main, are lost to the Public for ever. From what has been said it will appear that the state of penury under which the Portuguese peasantry languish, compared with which the poorest in England are in a state of affluence, does not necessarily arise from sterility of soil, or any local disadvantages, but wholly and altogether from the nature of the Government; for it can be proved to a demonstration, not only that their condition may by proper means be greatly ameliorated, but that the Country might be so far improved in its natural resources, as to support at least double its present population. Osoris Redin calculates that Spaîn could furnish subsistence for 78,000,000 of inhabitants, at present it scarcely affords sufficient fortwo thirds of its population, so that it is under the necessity of importing large quantities of grain, and other articles of prime necessity from other Countries. Now as the same ruinous policy governs Portugal the same reasoning will apply. Sorrine observes that where the Monasteries swarm with Sluggards, the fields become deserts.' I am, yours, &c. The peasantry of this Country content themselves with very little Bread, oil, onions, and fruit, vetches and chesnuts, with an immoderate quantity of water supply their wants, whilst one third the number of British, would starve on such slender fare. Penzance, May 13, 1826. P. P. WOMAN'S LOVE. Oh Woman's love's a holy light! Like ivy-where it grows 'tis seen Oh! woman's love! at times it may Its sunshine is a smile,-a frown Of Woman's tears there's danger there. Its sweetest place on which to rest,→ THE FEMALE CONVICT TO HER INFANT. O sleep not, my babe for the morn of tomorrow Shall soothe me to slumber more tranquil than thine; The dark grave shall shield me from shame and from sorrow, Though the deeds and the doom of the guilty are mine. Not long shall the arms of affection enfold thee; Not long shalt thou hang on thy Mother's fond breast; And who with the eye of delight shall behold thee, And watch thee, and guard thee, when I am at rest! And yet it doth grieve me to wake thee, my dearest, The pangs of thy desolate Mother to see; Thou will weep when the clank of my cold chain thou hearest, And noue but the guilty should mourn over me. And yet I must wake thee-for while thou art weeping To calm thee I stifle my tears for a while; But thou smil'st in thy dreams, while thus placidly sleeping, And oh! how it wounds me to gaze on thy smile! Alas! my sweet babe with what pride had I prest thee To the bosom that now throbs with terror and shame, If the pure tie of virtuous affection had blest thee, And hailed thee the heir of thy fathers high name. But now with remorse that avails not—I moura thee, Forsaken and friendless, as soon thou wilt be, In a world, if it cannot betray, that will seora thee Avenging the guilt of thy mother on thee. But when the dark thought of my fate shall awaken The deep blush of shame on thy innocent cheek, With falsehood like that whieh thy mother beguiled; Deserted and helpless, to whom can I leave thee? Oh! God of the fatherless! pity my child? SOLUTION OF LORD BYRON'S ENIGMA, (inserted in Page 73,) BY THE REVD. MR. LAMPORT. What's whispered in heav'n, and muttered in hell Is it air, that envelopes the Earth's farthest bound? Oh! say if the lightning, the thunder, the ocean, Can awe, or the spheres be dissolv'd without motion? What Proteus spirit presides o'er our breath, From the moment of birth to the instant of death? Is it frailty, that thus every blessing pervades, And mirth and success, health and honour degrades? Can the prop of a house be aught else than its jame? Or if this should be lost, what is wealth but a name ? Must man leave his hopes and his wishes to time, And wait till his throne is usurp'd without crime? What is that which a miser may love in his heir, Which in soldiers and sailors no thraldom can bear? Is it not independence, the birthright of mind, The heritage heav'n has to knowledge assign'd? What voice with the whispers of conscience is heard, Or when by wild passion's the spirit is stir❜d?' involve. The answer is H, seen in every Honse,And the Mountain at last has brought forth but a mouse! *No. 6. PALESTINE, OP THE HOLY LAND. JERUSALEM. (From the Modern Traveller.) THE approach to Jerusalem from Jaffa is not the direction in which to see the City to the best effect. Dr. Clarke entered it by the Damascus gate, and he describes the view of Jerusalem, when first descried from the summit of the hill, at about an hour's distance, as most impressive. Dr. Clarke was fortunate in catching this first view under the illusion of a brilliant evening sunshine, but his description is decidedly overcharged. M. Chateaubriand, Mr. Buckingham, Mr. Brown, Mr. Jolliffe, Sir F. Henniker, and almost every other modern traveller, confirm the representation of Dr. Richardson, Mr. Buckingham says: "The appearance of this celebrated city, independent of the feelings and recollections which the approach to it cannot fail to awaken, was greatly inferior to my expectations, and had certainly nothing of grandeur or beauty, of stateliness or magnificence about it. It appeared like a walled town of the third or fourth class, having neither towers, nor domes, nor minarets within it, in sufficient numbers to give even a character to its impressions to the beholder; but shewing chiefly large flat-roofed buildings of the most unornamented kind, seated amid rugged hills, on a strong and forbidding soil, with scarcely a picturesque object in the whole compass of the surrounding view." Chateaubriand's description is very striking and graphical. After citing the language of the prophet Jeremiah, in his lamentation on the ancient city, as accurately portraying its present state he says:— "When seen from the Mount of Olives, on the other side of the Valley of Jehoshaphat, Jerusalem presents an inclined plane, descending from West to East. An embattled wall, fortified with towers and a Gothic castle, encompasses the city all round Mount Sion, which it formerly enclosed. In the western quarter, and in the centre of the city, the houses stand very close, but in the eastern part along the brook Kedron, you perceive vacant spaces; among the rest, that which surrounds the mosque erected on the ruins of the Temple, and the nearly deserted spot where once stood the Castle of Antonia and the second palace of Herod. "The Houses of Jerusalem are heavy square masses, very low, without chimneys or windows; they have flat terraces or domes on the top, and look like prisons or sepulchres. "Enter the city, but nothing will you then find to make amends for the dulness of its exterior. You lose yourself among narrow unpaved streets, here going up hill, then down, from the inequality of the ground, and you walk among clouds of dust or loose stones. Canvas stretched from house to house increases the gloom of the labyrinth. Bazaars, roofed over, and fraught with infection completely exclude the light from the desolate city. A few paltry shops expose nothing but wretchedness to view, and even then are frequently shut, from apprehension of the passage of a Cadi. Not a creature is to be seen in the streets, not a creature at the gates except now and then a peasant gliding through the gloom concealing under his garments the fruits of his labor, lest he should be robbed of his hard earnings by the rapacious Soldier. Aside in a corner, the Arab butcher is slaughtering some animal, suspended by the legs from a wall in ruins; from his haggard and ferocious look, and his bloody hands, you would suppose he had been cutting the throat of a fellow-creature, rather than killing a lamb. The only noise heard from time to time in the city, is the galloping of the steed of the desert; it is the Janissary who brings the head of the Bedouin, or who returns from plundering the unhappy Fellah." "Jerusalem," remarks another modern traveller, "is called even by Mohammedans, the Blessed City (El Gootz or El Roudes.) The streets of it are narrow and deserted, the houses dirty and ragged; the shops few and forsaken; and throughout the whole there is not one symptom of either commerce, comfort, or happiness..... The best view of it is from the Mount of Olives; it commands the exact shape, and nearly every particular, viz. the church of the Holy Sepulchre, the Armenian Convent, the mosque of Omar, St. Stephen's gate, the round topped houses and the barren vacancies of the City. Without the walls are a Turkish burial ground, the tomb of David, a small grove near the tombs of the Kings, and all the rest is a surface of rock, on which are a few numbered trees The Mosque of Omar is the St. Peter of Turkey, and the respective saints are held respectively by their own faithful in equal veneration. The building itself has a light pagoda appearance; the garden in which it stands occupies a consider able part of the City, and, contrasted with the surrounding desert, is beautiful....The burial place of the Jews is over the valley of Kedron, and the fees for breaking the soil afford a considerable revenue to the governor. The burial place of the Turks is under the Walls, near St. Stephen's gate. From the opposite side of the valley, I was witness to the ceremony of parading a Corpse round the Mosque of Omar, and then bringing it forth for burial. I hastened to the grave, but was soon driven away; as far as my on dit tells me, it would have been worth seeing. The grave is strewn with red Earth, supposed to be of the Ager Damascenus of which Adam was made; by the corpse is placed a stick, and the priest tells him that the devil will tempt him to become a Christian, but that he must make good use of his stick ; that his trial will last three days, and that he will then find himself in a mansion of glory, &c." The Jerusalem of sacred history is, in fact, no more. Not a vestige yet remains of the Capital of David, and Solomon; not a monument of Jewish times is standing. The very course of walls is changed, and the boundaries of the ancient City become doubtful. The Monks pretend to shew the sites of the sacred places; but neither Calvary nor the Holy Sepulchre, much less the Dolorous Way, the house of Caiphas, &c. have the slightest pretensions to even a probable identity with the real places to which the tradition refers. Dr. Clarke has the merit of being the first modern traveller who ventured to speak of the preposterous legends and clumsy forgeries of the priests, with the contempt which they merit. NEGRO FRIENDSHIP. A planter of Virginia, who was owner of a considerable number of Slaves treated them with the utmost cruelty, whipping and torturing them for the slightest fault. One of the unfortunate victims of his cruelty, thinking any change preferable to slavery under such a barbarian, attempted to make his Escape among the mountain Indians; but unfortunately was taken, and brought back to his master. Poor Arthur (so he was called) was immediately ordered to receive 300 lashes, when stript, which were to be given by his fellow-slaves; amongst whom happened to be a new negro, just brought from Africa, and who had been purchased by the planter the day before. This slave the moment he saw the unhappy wretch destined to the lashes, flew to his arms, and embraced him with the greatest tenderness; the other returned his transports, and nothing could be more moving than this mutual bemoaning each other's misfortunes. Their master was soon given to understand that they were countrymen and intimate friends; and that Arthur had formerly in a battle with a neighbouring nation, saved his friends' life at the extreme hazard of his own. The new negro, at the same time threw himself at the feet of the planter beseeching him with most moving manner to spare his friend or, at least to suffer him to undergo the punishment in his room, protesting he would rather die ten thousand deaths, than lift his hand against him. But the wretch looking on this as an affront to the absolute power he pretended over him, ordered Arthur immediately to be led to a tree, and his friend to give the lashes; telling him, too, that for every lash not well laid on, he should himself receive a score. The new negro, amazed at a barbarity, so unbecoming a human creature, with a generous disdain refused to obey him, at the same time upbraiding him with his cruelty, upon which the planter, turning all his rage on him ordered him to be immediately stripped, and commanded Arthur, to whom he promissed forgiveness, to give his countryman the lashes he had been destined to receive himself. This proposal too was received with scorn, each protesting he would suffer the most dreadful tortures rather than injure his friend. This generous conflict which must have raised the strongest feelings in a breast susceptible of pity did but the more inflame the monster, who now determined they should both be made examples of; and to satiate his revenge was resolved to whip them himself. lle was just preparing to begin with Arthur, when the new negro, drew a knife from his pocket, stabbed the planter to the heart, and the following instant struck it to his own, rejoicing with his last breath, that he had revenged his friend, and rid the world of such a monster. HOME RECOLLECTIONS. WHEN the British armament had arrived at Marmorice, a beautiful bay, on the coast of Greece, on their voyage to Egypt, among the numbers who came to see them was an unexpected visitor in the dress of a Turk. This was a gentleman of the name of Campbell, a native of Kintyre, in Argyleshire. Early in life, he had been so affected by the death of a school-fellow, who had been killed by accident as they were at play together, that he fled from the country, and joined the Turkish army. He had then served forty years under the standard of Islam, and had risen to the rank of general of artillery. He went on board the ship where the Forty-second were embarked to enquire about his family. When he saw the men in the dress to which he had been accustomed in his youth, he was so much affected, that he burst into tears. The astonishment of the soldiers may be easily imagined, when they were addressed in their own language by an old man in the full costume of a Turk, and with a white beard flowing down to his girdle. ROMANTIC GRATITUDE. A young midshipman in our service war, and carried to a port in Peru, was taken prisoner during a Spanish where he remained a prisoner some years. During this period, an accident brought him acquainted with a lady of great consequence, by whose interest he at length procured his liberty, In the pursuit of his profession, he had the and returned to England. good fortune to fall in with a very valuable Spanish ship, of which he was ordered to take possession, as prizevessel, to his great astonishment, he master; when, upon boarding the found the very same lady to whom he had now an opportunity of shewing was under such great obligation He his gratitude; and, upon making known the story to his shipmates, they unanimously agreed, both officers and men, to restore her property to the illustrious prisoner. Accordingly, all her vessels of gold, her valuable jewels, and costly furniture, with which she was returning to her native country, were restored to her: thus nobly proving, that humane and generous treatment to a British seaman in misfortune, will never fail to be gratefully remembered by his gallant companions. THE SHORT SWORD. A soldier shewing his comrades a sword which had been presented to him, it was the opinion of most of them, that the only fault it had was its being too short. But one who stood by observed, that there was no weapon too short for a brave man, as there needed no more but to advance one step to make it long enough, the sufficiency of the heart supplying what is wanting. |