our parents, from renewed rejection, lose their power on the mind, the structure of our morality is shaken to its basis: mine, alas! was wholly removed, and in one fearful moment crumbled to the ground.

'My mother possessed a character equally admirable with that of my father. Her precepts were the earliest which I received, and made the strongest and most lasting impressions, and now are recalled with the saddest associations. There are some ideas too lofty for even matured minds; there are many to the youthful and inexperienced. In my early youth, hers were too great for my intellect, and it was only in after-years that I could appreciate their value. Unlike most mothers in the East, she did not look upon her children as mere ties to bind her husband's affection to her; for how often has her own comfort and pleasure been sacrificed to gratify my boyish whims - though her sense of propriety never; and in such acts as these, she showed the affection which she entertained for her offspring. Were I to mention all her goodness of heart, or occurrences evincing the correctness of her judgment, they would never end; and yet I remember a thousand acts of petty ingratitude on my part towards her, and her as frequent forgiveness. How often, in moments of distress, does the remembrance of a mother's love come gushing up fresh in the mind of her son, whilst that of a father is forgotten. Regret for past error is more powerful than contemplated future atonement, and also more lasting. We weep over the past with an anguish which a prospect of the future can never produce.

I have a sister, and I had a brother. The first is older than myself, and our brother was the youngest of the family. Her name is Ayesha, from one of the wives of our revered Prophet.

'From having been my constant companion, I am more acquainted with her disposition than with that of any other member of the family. Though her junior, yet, from being a female, she ever looked up to me with respect and deference. At an early age we were sent to school together while young, she acquired an attachment for poetry; whilst I, insensibly, one for metaphysics. Our books were dogmatical, containing many of the mysteries of our holy religion, and I fear that on these my mind was permitted too much to repose; and thus, from being limited to one object or subject of contemplation, it became weakened. What is more spacious and comprehensive than the mind; what more incomprehensible? It requires scope, though guidance, to its wanderings; for they are too frequently in darkness. My sister commanded the range of hers, and when it ran among hills and meadows, directed it to where the former had no dangerous precipices, and the latter were strewed with flowers. There are some qualities which, notwithstanding all the changes of life, remain untarnished; a strain superior to the common poetry of life, which exalts the mind above the vicissitudes to which life is subject. There are feelings unfit for every-day service, yet their familiar attendance should be courted, so that in moments of need they may not be separated from you. They come up sometimes like the unaccountable gushing of a fountain, throwing a retrospective glance over the past, and serving as a 'mirror of the mind.'

'My sister profited by these, and erected upon her natural disposition a structure of mind which became peculiarly her own. At the same

time, she remarked the tendency of mine to erroneous determinations, and counselled me to watch over and guard it, lest it should take one which would be irremediable. Such is youth, that I heeded not her words; for I could not conceive their full import, nor understand the components of my own mind. There is a trait in every character like the spark within the flint, latent until brought forth by some peculiar inconstance or contact. It is seldom known to the possessor, yet generally proves to be the ruling passion of his existence. It was mine to be impetuous; to feel no restraint; to imagine that nothing which is grand and lofty could be wrong; and in this, with the mirror now before my eyes, I perceive my fatal delusion.

"Our brother was named Hussein; he died whilst I was still very young; yet I still remember his chubby form, full ruddy face, blue eyes, fair hair, and infantile affection. He is now among the blessed and happy, whilst the sunshine of my joys is dimmed for ever, and HEAVEN seems to scowl darkly upon me. When he for whom my brother was named was cruelly struck by one of the soldiers of Shamar upon the mouth, previous to being murdered in the desire to exterminate the family of the Calif Ali, an old man exclaimed, 'Alas! alas! how often have I seen the lips of the blessed Prophet pressed upon those which you now contemn!' How often have I pressed those lips of my poor little brother to mine, which have long since crumbled to dust in the grave!

'I remember my little brother's decease. It was in the first opening of spring that he departed. The almond-trees on the Bosphorus were just putting forth their buds; the meadows of Kiatkhanek and Geuk-Soo were strewed with green leaves and fragrant flowers; the joyous and cheering sun was shedding vernal beams upon the face of nature; and the little birds were tuning their soft voices in the green vales, when my young and sweet and tender brother was hurried to his untimely grave. The ever-green cypress now mourns over his quiet tomb, in the great cemetery of Scutari, where repose millions of our race; wild flowers spring up round his silent abode; odors, as if breathed from Eden, scent its sod; and if a bright sun pierce through the lofty boughs which surround it, it is only to entice little warblers to continue their melancholy dirge over his dear dust. How bitter it is to have to die in one's youth-to be snatched away just as the spring season of the mind has begun to bud! But I must forsake such reminiscences. Memory, avaunt!

'I have mentioned each member of our family separately, and will now continue to speak of myself and them as a family. At the age of sixteen, I left my father's dwelling to serve in the household of the Z. E. who, as usual, promised to take care of my fortunes, allow me opportunities of pecuniary interest, and to promote me as occasion should offer. A few days after my admission, I was considered a member of his family; and, perhaps in consequence of my youth, was permitted without restraint to visit the more sacred parts of his konak. There is a fatality attending a single moment of a man's life, developing what is good or bad in his character, and the former is of more frequent occurrence than the latter. Yet so unchangeable is man's character, that it is supposed to be traced at his birth on the brow. In consequence of this, it is of common occurrence to infirm minds, that a simple and apparently moment

ary change of feeling should lead them down to ruin. The fatality of a moment governs the happiness of the future of too many the misery — yet who can govern it? She for whom I am now a fettered assassin, trembling on the brink of existence, was seen but once, to enthral all my affections, and оссиру and lead my mind as if some ethereal being. I knew that even to entertain an attachment other than of respectful devotion to her service, was a fault which merited the severest chastisement of my master; but in the commencement, the strength of my passion drove away every feeling of rectitude, and afterwards, when she was persecuted by him on account of my fatal passion for her, a sense of honor- on my part sincere, because it aspired not to the commendation of the world, but to that of her heart alone increased my love.

'I would here state that my master, the Z. E., had long been in office, and was esteemed by our Sultan for his talents and energy. On the workings of the former I have often deeply reflected, yet now fear without having ever understood them. You have doubtless heard of him as one worthy of every respect and affection, so little are the true and private characters of official men known to the public, which is interested only in their public acts. As a distinguished favor, my father obtained permission to place me near him; and from this moment commenced the most eventful part of my life. Under his protection I gave scope to the ideal dreams of worldly happiness which I had already loved to cherish; those youthful reveries unchastened by a knowledge of the world, and which, from the lasting impressions they make upon the mind, are of such importance, and therefore need careful guidance. They then afforded me the greatest pleasure, but so treacherous have they proven, that now they are the source of all my sorrows.

'I will now speak of my master, with an endeavor to delineate his character such as it has appeared to me. Perhaps my observations may have been erroneous, and when I point out what to my mind seemed errors, to yours they may appear only as the workings of a lofty and unbending spirit.

'He had formerly been in the military service of the Sultan, and acquired some celebrity in campaigns against Russia. I know but little of his early life, and nothing of his parentage farther than that the latter was of the middle class; and therefore, from owing nothing to it, he was a self-made man. He was early promoted to a superior grade, and knew but little of the heart-burnings of a subordinate. His personal bravery none ever doubted, and his talents had been severally drawn forth by the charges confided to him by the Sultan. With regard to his personal appearance, a smile generally played upon his countenance; and except a shade which occasionally came over it when a prey to passion, it remained unchangeable. He was thought deep and calculating, yet his simplicity often entrapped others in the snare which their ingenuity had set for him. His smile was deceptive, and often concealed the harsh feelings and intentions which lurked beneath it. Yet he was not a hypocrite, for he loved whatever was open, frank, and candid, and it was only when urged, as he thought, by necessity, that he would descend to dissimulation. His passions often led him to commit the most degrading excesses, and yet he never seemed to reflect and reform after a

fit of anger had passed over, and which had reduced him to a par almost with a maniac. There seemed to be a limit to his better qualities, but none to his anger and revenge; his friendship was guarded and courteous; his hatred often expended itself upon unworthy objects, and without any restraint. When actuated by the former feeling, it was easy to work upon his credulity; when unfortunately laboring under the latter, nothing but time and entire submission to his will could restore any one to his confidence. It seems natural for pity to succeed revenge and resentment, for the mind soon gluts with misery of its own causing, as it also satiates with enjoyed possession; and when it thus relents, and its fury is spent, ordinarily confers a benefit upon the devoted object of its rage. It was not so, however, with him.

Another of the peculiar traits of his character was a feeling of regret for the past, which he endeavored to conceal even from himself.

'We easily reconcile our minds to whatever we wish others should consider as correct, and by this self-conviction we deceive ourselves. Again when, in his own mind, my master perceived and recognized his error, it was a maxim of his life never to acknowledge it to others, lest by so doing they should disrespect his judgment. I would add, that to me and those about his person, he was a kind and protecting master, and though without any endeavor to correct his own wayward passions, he took care to keep alive in others those of virtuous and manly ambition. To differ with him in opinion was an unpardonable crime; and though he might adopt and act upon the suggestions of others, it was without any acknowledgment of his own incapacity, or approval of the adviser, who, perhaps, at a later hour, would be punished for his temerity. He was liberal even to imprudence, but never lavished money in any improper manner. When he took a part, his thoughts and intentions were clear and distinct, for already had he looked upon either side of the question, ere forming any determination. I have, alas! found to my utter desolation that he then pursued his intention until a successful conclusion left nothing more to be done.

'Whilst you fancied his confidence was reposed in you, he was nevertheless at work to penetrate your mind, and detect, not your errors, but a flaw in your judgment, which he then hastened to point out to you, always in such a manner as would bring forward for your companion his own superior wisdom. His principle was to play off one friend or one servant against another, by exciting their jealousy; and when the fault was not grave, when necessity compelled him to do so, to restore a discarded and neglected friend or servant, apparently, to his confidence and good-will. His reading was extensive, and his intercourse with mankind of high and low degree very great. He was a 'republican' in profession and public life, though an absolutist' in his own family. He had a strong mind by nature, but its superiority had been acquired, not inherited from his parents, nor could it be transmitted to his offspring, though indeed many of them were equally remarkable for their mental capacity, which, however, they neglected to cultivate. His parentage might be questioned, but he was tenacious of his rank and standing in the world, and often assumed a bearing—a haughty superiority those from among whom he had sprung, as it were, but yesterday.

over

'I was fond of being near him, dazzled by the public report of the favors conferred upon him by the Sultan. I soon formed an attachment for him, which he was not long in perceiving. In a few months I became acquainted with every branch of my duties; assisted the seal-bearer when needed; handed his coffee and pipe; sometimes copied his reports, carried them to the Porte, or attended on him when there. It is scarcely necessary that I should dwell farther upon the nature of his affairs-those which he at times confided to me; the journeys I undertook in the distant pachaliks of the empire for him; or the intrigues of the court, by which he only fell to rise the higher, through the superiority of his talents. Enough has been said to acquaint you with those traits of his character which I loved or feared, and to show how dangerous was he as an enemy, how precarious as a friend. His form and voice are now only recalled to my mind with anguish. Why was the deed which I have committed predestined? What link is it in the chain of occurrences which my CREATOR determined before the world was? It is now my only consolation to know that I am but the passive agent in His hands; that destiny could not be thwarted; and yet my religious education teaches me that, being thus, I must be sacrificed eternally to fate. But death will soon release me from myself, and ignorance of the future is bliss.

'After this short sketch, I will hasten, my friend, to close my short but eventful history.

'My master's third wife, to whom I have already made allusion, was a Circassian whom he had purchased, and whom, after having given birth to a child, he freed and married. She was but fresh from her wild native soil, and only fourteen years of age when she became his slave. Stolen from her parents and home at the age of eight years, she had been the property of several dealers in slaves, each of whom endeavored to add to her value by having her taught new accomplishments, such as dancing, singing, music, and to attend upon the great. The two first Cadeus of my master had been the wives of his youth, and it was more in anger than love that he determined to purchase another who should ostensibly supersede them in his affections. The profusion of riches with which he surrounded her, at first led her to feel affection for him as their source; but, as she told me, his age was an insurmountable barrier to all love: subsequently, when his violence alienated her regard and destroyed her peace of mind, it was natural for her affections to seek some new object, or at least to be readily engaged. A black slave who attended upon her, informed me of her mistress's unhappiness; and when I attended upon her on her excursions in the Bosphorus, my kindness for her gained her heart. She confided to me her grievances, and sympathy soon kindled into love. Poor girl! she had never had a home since being stolen from that of her parents-of her birth; and she remembered it with all the vividness, and bore for it all the affection due to a 'childhood's home.' Nature had impressed upon her a character of sensibility and intelligence, and art had not dulled the one nor weakened the other. Her heart was a tablet too ready to receive impressions, and the sorrow which she evinced for my recent persecutions has proved how difficult they were to be effaced.