Imágenes de páginas
[ocr errors]

lishments. He probably gives employment to more hands than any other one man in
America. He is always liberal toward the poor and needy. He inherited nothing,
except business talents of the highest order, and a persevering, bold, and independent
spirit, that overcame every obstacle. Cool and sagacious, never seeming in a hurry, he
will accomplish more business in the same time than almost any man that appears
'Change.' 'From being a deck-hand on a schooner, he has risen in wealth, the possessor
of millions, and now owns steamers that would be sufficient to blockade nearly every
port in Europe. He has accomplished every thing for himself, without the patronage
of Government or the protection of charters. His ability is equalled by, his modesty;
quiet and

unassuming, never acting a part to make himself conspicuous.'
With the exception of a chaplain and a family-physician, with their
wives, the passengers in the 'North Star' are all members of the family
of Captain VANDERBILT.

The Commodore (as Captain VANDERBILT is familiarly called) expects to land first at Southampton, and, after a short stop, go round to London, where he will remain a considerable time, enjoying the sights and hospitalities of the Great Metropolis. Thence he will go up the Baltic, perhaps to see JENNY LIND, if she should be at Stockholm, and thence up the Neva, where he will be entertained at St. Petersburgh by the Emperor NICHOLAS, who will, beyond doubt, manifest great interest in the ship, if not in the Yankees, and will very likely send an order to some of our builders for one for his own use. Bidding adieu to the Czar, the 'North Star' will return to the Atlantic, try her strength with the billows of Biscay, and come to anchor off Gibraltar. Thence they proceed to the classic shores of the Mediterranean, stopping at Naples, Malta, Athens, Constantinople, Alexandria, and perhaps several other ports. Sutlicient stay will be made at each place to see the most worthy objects in the neighborhood, and give and receive the hospitalities incident to the occasion. Every thing pertaining to the excursion will be done upon the most liberal and magnificent scale. The cost has been roughly estimated at half a million of dollars, which is all borne by the Commodore.'

Honor, say we, in conclusion, to the man who can inculcate so glorious a lesson as has Captain VANDERBILT ; and long may he remain among us to enjoy the princely fortune which his own intellect and his own hands have won !



Tue fairest village of the West, Her voice is like the song of birds,
Beside a river sleeping,

Of more than mortal sweetness,
Enshrined within its peaceful breast, For love and pity lend her words

Earth's sweetest rose is keeping ; Their musical completeness ;
Before her bend the forest-flowers And wheresoe'er her foot-steps stray,
As fays before a fairy;

They bring such sweet beguiling,
And stately pines within their bowers Even Sorrow half resigns her sway,

Would gladly shelter CARRIE. And smiles to see her smiling.
Like crystal fount the soul she bore So kind, so gentle, and so pure,
From marble basin welling;

Sure seraphs guard her dreaming,
And all things evil fly before

For nothing earthly might endure
The sunshine of her dwelling. Life's ills so lightly deeming.
Her heart is as the summer skies No stain upon her soul of sin
On some soft summer even;

A child, and yet a woman
And, like the stars, her radiant eyes Who wins our CARRIE's love will win

Inspire sweet thoughts of heaven. An angel who is human.


[blocks in formation]

With matchless intrepidity, the Mamelukes rode round the French squares, striving to find an entrance; but an incessant fire from every front mowed them down as fast as they poured in at the opening. Furious at the unexpected resistance, they dashed their horses against the rampart of bayonets, and threw their pistols at the heads of the grenadiers, while many who had lost their steeds crept along the ground, and cut at the legs of the front rank with their scimitars. At length the survivors fled toward the camp from whence they had issued.'


Far in the desert's waste of sands,

With lagging step and weary frame,
Toil on Napoleon's hardy bands,

Forgetful of their ancient fame.
Fainting and sick, still on they toil
With burning footstep o'er the soil:
The yellow sands like ashes spread,
And scorch the legions as they tread;
A brassy heaven above them glows,
Nor blessed breeze delicious blows.

The dragoon fain would cast away
His heavy helmet plumed and gay;
The grenadier would gladly throw
The bear-skin shako from his brow;
Scarce may the tirailleur sustain
His musket o'er that burning plain.
The pluméd troop, the clang of arms,
For them have lost their glorious charms :
The trumpet's blast, the war-drum's roll
Awakes no ardor in their soul;
For in this distant, hopeless waste,
No joys delirious they may taste.

Far-gazing o'er the waste of sand,
Their thoughts return to native land:
The fair green hills of France again
Smile sweetly, and each grassy plain;
And vineyards where the luscious grape
The valleys with their garlands drape :

They fain would seek their olive shade,
And dance at eve with sportive maid,
Where the blithe story and the song
The festive moon-light hours prolong;
And bathe in many a crystal stream
That twinkles in the shining beam;
Deep in the gelid fountain dip,
And bathe the brow, and cool the lip.

Still on they press: a fairer scene
Smiles round them lovely and serene :
Beside the waters of the Nile
Their columns in long march defile :

Their fainting hearts new life have caught
From the cool stream's delicious draught.
The palm-tree spreads its grateful gloom
Above them in perennial bloom;
The green-leaved sycamore imparts
A soothing vigor to their hearts;
And onward, when the trumpets sound,
The charging columns sweep the ground.
Their squares are formed in triple rows;
Their ranks a line of steel oppose :
While in their centre, calm and grand,
Their mighty leader takes bis stand,
His eagles o'er him, and the fold
Of his broad banner fringed with gold.
He points to each vast pyramid,
Whose summit in the clouds is hid,
And tells that from each airy crown
Unnumbered centuries look down,
To view from that mysterious height
The valiant Frenchman rage in fight!
Foes swarmed around! The Bedouin steed
From the far desert came at speed;
The swarthy Arab shook his spear,
And lashed his barb to full career;
He left his palm-grove, and the well
Where tinkles sweet his camel's bell;
His tawny imps and dusky maid
Long sighing in the date-tree's shade,
His lowly tent and browsing flock,
To mingle in the conflict's shock.
But proudest there, with shining arms,
Renowned, and prompt at war's alarms;
With broidered robe and silken vest,
And flaming jewel in his crest;
With burnished blade and scabbard gay,
The spoil of many a robber-fray,
Lashing his courser's reeking sides,
The far-famed Janissary rides;
And MOURAD BEY, to dare the brunt
Of battle, gallops in their front.
On like the simoom! On they wheel,
An avalanche of horse and steel!
Against the fatal squares they dash;
Their blades against the bayonets clash ;
The keen-edged scimitar like light
Shivers against the sabre's might!
In headlong plunge, they strive in vain
To hew through those stern squares a lane;
Until, with empty saddles, fleet
Their barbs fly bleeding in retreat!
The war is o'er! the Frenchman's band
Long since hath vanished from the land;
And by the peaceful banks of Nile
The palm-trees bloom and harvests smile ;
And Arab peasants drive the wain
Across the battle's famous plain :

The camel crops the grass that waves
Above the fiery Mamelukes' graves;
And high above the lonely plain
The pyramid resumes its reign.

Boston, May, 1853.



FA L K L A N D.'

ONE of the most striking features of the Ottoman government, is the possibility which the lowest member of society has, under it, of attaining its highest dignities, be his color or profession what it may. Even slaves are emancipated to receive high and honorable offices, and the present brothers-in-law of the Sultan are examples of the kind.

The Sultan and his principal officers are attended by pages (called âgâs) of different grades, according to the rank of the employer. They are sometimes purchased and held as slaves, though more frequently they are young

men of good families who are placed near the Effendis by their parents. They receive small, or no stated salaries, and trust to the gifts of visitors, presents from their master, and opportunities which he gives them of gain, for emolument. It is a high honor to be page to a Pacha, and one much sought after. He who obtains the situation is in a road to promotion ; may learn much of the manner of rising in life; and though his pecuniary gains be at first small

, the Pacha eventually provides for him ; for if the individual has talents, or is faithful to his master's interests, the latter seldom fails finally to place him either in his own or some other branch of the public service.

If the master is gentle in mind and manners, the page, from the necessity of studying his disposition, generally assumes it himself. Pages are not numerous; and as they always accompany their Effendi on his visits to his compeers, they sometimes become known to them; and should their master be sent to a distant pachalik, where the page's services are not needed, or meet with a sudden reverse of fortune - such being of frequent occurrence under the Ottoman government- the page may readily find an employment near some of his master's friends.

Thus they are wholly dependent upon his generosity of character for happiness; once found unfaithful, they are not only dismissed from his service, but by his influence may be prevented from obtaining any other.

Some years ago, an extraordinary occurrence took place in Constantinople, which caused some talk at the time, as the parties were well known. By inquiry, the writer obtained the following information, which he has embodied in a biographical sketch, as if written by the unfortunate page whilst in prison; who, notwithstanding the care taken of his education, was full of high and exalted, though erroneous feeling; and his was

'A BRIGHT but troubled soul,
Where sensibility still wildly played,
Like lightning round the ruins it had made.'

The sketch ran thus : * It was near the noble mosque of Sultan Ahmed, on a spot commanding views of the Sea of Marmora on the one hand, and the Golden Horn and Bosphorus on the other, that I was born. The mosques of Sultan Ahmed and Saint Sophia reared their high domes and tapering minarets on either side of it; the 'Imperial Gate' was only hidden from it by the latter, whilst the towers of the palaces of our Sultans rose up almost beside our humble dwelling. Our house was like all the better ones of Stambool : two stories high, of frame, colored red, with a white facing, and surrounded by a small though well-cultivated garden. A high wall surrounded the premises, to prevent the gaze of our neighbors being directed towards the females at my father's harem during their occupancy of the garden, or at any other time when their veils might be !aid aside. So lasting is the attachment we entertain for home, the scene of our earliest years, that though many have elapsed since I adopted another, and time and the many and diverse scenes through which I have passed would, it might be supposed, have effaced from, or at least weakened in my mind its affection for so humble a spot, I still cannot wander to it for a moment in thought, or gaze upon its now crumbling threshold, without melting into tears. The home which descends to us from father to son is more our country' than the domain which surrounds it; we may have no claim to the latter, whilst the former is indeed the place of our birth;' and when we lose it, the chain which bound us loses a link; the heart wanders in search of some new object, such being necessary to its happiness : and if not found, its affections become blighted, and what might have been fair and beautiful in the character, too often assumes the darkest hue.

• If the want of a home places us so much at the mercy of the world, its changes, and its vicissitudes, how few also are the ties to life when we are deprived of our family !! Even when we have forfeited


claim to its regard, and are cast out upon the sea of life as a wrecked vessel on the ocean, it is still the kibleh towards which our hopes are directed. I now seek to concentrate my feelings within their most limited bounds, and to recall to my mind now in the attitude of sorrow and repentance — my home, and the characters of the much-loved members of my family.

'My father's name was Ahmed. I have heard him frequently speak of the Beys of Caramania as his ancestors; and there was in our family a curved sword, beautifully damaskined, bearing an Arabic inscription and motto, with the name of a Caramanian prince, said to have been given to my grandfather by one of the Sultans.

'I will dwell a moment on the subject of my father. It was impossible for me to differ with him in opinion, so confident was I in his judgment, and so much did I respect him ; his deliberations were not unalterable, but so lofty and chaste, and so noble, that I feared and loved him at the same time; his instructions were given in a manner so mild, and his corrections for the errors and foibles of my young and hasty mind so gentle, so free from passion, that I would insensibly linger in his presence, and never leave it without pressing his parental hand to my lips. Had I but trod in his footsteps, and not wandered from the precepts which he inculcated, nor grieved away the influence which he possessed over my mind, I had never sinned so deeply against the laws of my Prophet. "Like those of the sacred volume, when the precepts of

« AnteriorContinuar »