lose the opportunity of enabling a man every way so worthy of their encouragement, to spend his life in that freedom from care so necessary for the cultivation of genius, and thus express their gratitude for the delight which he has so often afforded them.

Y.

ACCOUNT OF THE FIRST STABLISH

MENT OF COFFEEHOUSES AT CON-
STANTINOPLE, A. D. 1555.

(Translated from the Turkish History of Betchevi.*)

THERE was no coffee used, nor was there even a single shop where it was sold, either in Constantinople or any other part of Romelia, before the year 962 of the Hegira. In that year two private persons, one of whom was a native of Damascus, called Chems, and another from Aleppo, named Hakim, came to Constantinople, and opened two shops in the quarter Takhtecala, where they sold that excellent beverage. At first these coffeehouses were only resorted to by the indolent and idle, but they soon became popular among the wits and men of letters, who assembled in perhaps twenty or thirty different knots in each house. Parties were formed for reading, others for chess or trictrac; some discussed new poems, and others pursued scientific conversations. As the expence only amounted to a few aspres, it was a cheap mode of entertaining a friend, to carry him to a coffeeroom. All persons out of employment, and paying their court to obtain it, kadis, moudaries, and all who had no great business, crowded to these places, as affording the best amusements; in short, the rooms be

The Oulemas, in particular, cried out against coffee, they declared that an alehouse was better than a coffee

room.

The preachers endeavoured to scold down the favourite beverage. The muftis declared, that all substances roasted to charcoal were pro hibited by the law, and brought forward solemn decisions to confirm their opinions.

In the reign of Murad III. the pro hibitions were renewed, but some amateurs obtained leave of the policeofficers to sell coffee in back shops and courts out of the public view. From that time the use of coffee became so general, that government was tired of forbidding it. The preachers and muftis revised their doctrines, and declared, that as the burning of coffee did not really convert it into charcoal, it might be drank without endangering salvation; and the sheiks, oulemas, vizirs, and nobles, began to take it without distinction. At length, the grand vizirs themselves built coffeerooms, and got a sequin or two for their daily rent.

DESULTORY ESSAYS CONNECTED WITH

LITERATURE.

[We believe it will gratify several of our most intelligent readers to mention, that the following is the first of a series of prose essays from the elegant pen which has formerly enriched our poetical department with the verses entitled, "The Mossy Seat," "Melancholy," "Disappointment," "Ode to the Spirit of Kosciusko," and other pieces of a similar description; a continued series of which, also, we have no common pleasure in being now enabled to promise. -EDIT.]

thrown!"

No. I.

Harold.

HAMLET.

The real name of this historian is not known. That of Betchevi is derived from his native town Betche (the five churches) in Hungary.

An aspre is worth about a halfpenny.

It is an undeniable fact, that there is no situation, among the varied gradations of civilized society, that is not productive of some peculiar pleasures and disadvantages to its possessor,something, indeed, that favours the moral axiom, that Nature is no stepdame, but equally kind and beneficent to all her children. For, really, when we often see, what we have always been accustomed to esteem the best gifts which heaven bequeaths to man,

productive of a restlessness and dissa tisfaction of spirit allied to melancholy itself, and beholding all the contingencies of life in their worst lights, we are forcibly reminded of the comparative happiness of unambitious mediocrity, and turn with delight to the innocent and artless days, so faithfully delineated by Goldsmith, when we "thought cross purposes the highest stretch of human wit, and questions and commands the most rational way of spending the evening." Our immortal Burns, too, if he did not suggest, at least concurred in, the remark, that there could be no surer way of rendering one of our species miserable, than by endowing him with extraordinary sensibility, with appetencies of mind, which it would be difficult to supply, and with passions and powers beyond the run of common mortality. The opinion is not merely hazarded; it is one that is confirmed by melancholy experience, and attested by examples in every age, and by the misfortunes and unhappiness so frequently attendant on the possession of genius. We need scarcely substantiate our statement by adverting to the latter days of Swift, and Collins, and Beattie,—to the gentle Otway, the melancholy Gray, or the unfortunate Chatterton; for, except in the almost supernatural instance of Rousseau, it never was exhibited in such strong and vivid lines, as in the illustrious author of the work now before us. There seem to be melancholy ideas for ever floating on his mind, and overshadowing, with a sad and sombre twilight, all his prospects, and breathing, like the simoom, "the most lone wind of the desert," destruction over all his happiness, and desolation over all his hopes, and which have often driven him from the settled society of his fellow men, 66 to breathe the difficult air of the iced mountain top," to hold converse with the fountains and with the forests, and keep up a proud communion with the mysteries and the majesty of nature.

To our more unimaginative readers, we are conscious that these reflections will appear to savour of enthusiasm, and be reckoned as descriptive not of the poet, but of his ideal personage; not of Lord Byron, but of Childe Harold. It may be so; for we confess that we were never able to discover

the line of distinction between them. The incidents by which the Childe is first introduced to us, and the causes of the morbid melancholy of his heart, may be different. We trust, at least, that the causes are so; but, whatever the excitements may have been, the state of mind induced is unquestionably the same in both. Lord Byron has too much respect for himself, to yield to an overweening inclination, if its seductions led him to be suspected of egotism; and he has therefore adopted the most delicate mode of communicating to the world his own feel ings, and reflections, and sorrows; and of displaying and awakening into exertion the powers and passions of a mind, so richly endowed, and so proudly elevated, as to have little sympathy for the pursuits and objects that agitate the minds and occupy the attention of his less gifted brethren of mankind.

We do not agree with his Lordship, that Childe Harold is a repulsive personage; we think him wholly the reverse, though we cannot well define the nameless something that induces us to sympathize in all the loathings, and sicknesses, and melancholy of his heart, and seduces us to admire the daring pride, and the dangerous precepts of his cheerless and gloomy philosophy. Notwithstanding all our re searches in the labyrinth of mind, and all the ingenious theories that have been brought forward to explain its wonders, there are some phenomena which have hitherto appeared incongruous and inexplicable; and, as an example, we may cite the uncontro verted, yet apparently paradoxical, axiom of Rochefoucault, that "there is always something in the misfortunes of our dearest friends not displeasing to us." It is not a barbarous triumph over their unhappiness; and it does not arise from a want of sympathy for their sufferings; it is a far more noble and generous emotion; it is allied to what Ossian has happily denominated "the joy of grief." We are confident, that if Childe Harold had been represented to us in his feelings, and reflections, and conduct, as a gay, an innocent, and a happy being, sinned against than sinning" pleased with all he beheld, and with all he heard; at peace with himself and every thing around him, that neither his gaiety innocence, nor happiness,

more

could have made such an impression on the mind.

It is remarkable, also, that the Childe Harold, of the first and second cantos, is not the Childe Harold of the third. In the space that elapses between his pilgrimage through Greece, and his reappearance on the plains of Waterloo, his moral constitution seems to have undergone a remarkable change. It is true, that his curses on the despot are as long and loud,—and his disdain of the slave as deep and rooted, and his admiration of patriotism as warm and fervent on the field of Morat, as on the plains of Marathon ;that his tenderness for female beauty, and female fidelity, is equally great; -and that his affection for the innocence of childhood remains unabated. In these feelings there is no change; but it is not to these that we allude. The Childe is introduced to us as one who is satiated with the luxuries of life, and disgusted with the selfishness of the world ;-one, who considers all his kind as faithless and unfeeling beings, divested of gratitude for good offices, and sympathy for affliction; and he forsakes his native land

Pained, and pining in the dearth,
And darkness of his spirits view

to traverse the ocean waves, and make the wide world his country. It is not to form new friendships, for he abjures his kind, and despises their companionship; he is aware that human life consists of agitation, and feels that the mind must be employed ;yet he has no object to place on the pedestal of the image he has torn from its niche;-though the world presents him with nothing capable of arresting his attachment, like the St Leon of Godwin, or the Ladurlad of Southey, he feels endowed with a supernatural portion of vital energy;-and though surrounded by human beings, he is conscious that his curse is solitude.

It is natural for the mourner to shut his ears to the shouts of mirth, yet to turn his heart to the retrospective contemplation of happiness, and take delight only in what coincides and associates with his own feelings. The Childe, as it were instinctively, looks towards Greece, where he beholds the reflected image of himself; -the smiles of happiness turned into mourning, and the garden of existence

into a desolate wilderness. It is with these feelings of loathing, loneliness, and disgust, that he traverses the lovely but degraded regions of the Morea, contrasts its present abject state with its former dignity, gran deur, and elevation; wandering among the ivied columns " which Time and Turk have spared," and heaving many a sigh, as he perceives "The fiery souls, that might have led Her sons to deeds sublime, Now crawl from cradle to the grave, Slaves-nay the bondsmen of a slave,

And callous-save to crime !"

At length a new era opens in his mind. He seems to be impregnated with the mystical philosophy of Wordsworth, and feels himself to exist less as an individual of a particular species, than as a portion of an eternal spirit, that animates and pervades every thing within the dominions of Nature.

"Where rose the mountains, there to

him were friends; Where roll'd the ocean, thereon was his home;

Where a blue sky, and glowing clime, ex

tends,

Whether these emotions have spontaneously arisen within him, and the beautiful and variegated banks of the Rhine, and the shores of Lake Leman, and the sublime and lonely regions of the Alps, were esteemed the most fit places for their developement and indulgence; or whether it was the scenery itself that kindled these emotions, we do not know,though we rather imagine that the latter is the case. At all events, it is evident, that his Lordship had been studying Wordsworth; that he was captivated with the delirating tone that pervades his compositions; and, that he was himself smitten with an enthusiastic admiration of all natural objects; and with the desire of defin ing aspirations to others, which are, in fact, mysterious, and inexplicable to himself. Notwithstanding this great and inherent deformity, there is a majesty and commanding force,

MR EDITOR,

THE breaking up of the ice in the arctic regions is an event which has excited universal interest; and the prospect it holds out of an amelioration of our climate during the summer and autumn months, we may hope soon to be realised. On this subject a very interesting paper has appeared in the Quarterly Review; and, although philosophers may not be disposed to agree in all the speculations of the author, it must be acknowledged that he has brought together some very curious and important facts. However much we, who are intimately acquainted with the merits of Mr Scoresby, junior, may lament that he has not been employed in the expedition about to sail to the polar regions, we can have no doubt of the result of the efforts about to be made being highly interesting and important. We have, besides, one advantage in the rejection of Mr Scoresby's services, that he will return from Greenland at an early period with intelligence respecting the state of the northern seas, whereas it may be a long time before we are acquainted with the success of the vessels sent out by Government. It may not be unreasonable in us to hope, that the underwriters will allow a little latitude to Mr Scoresby, that he may, without risk, be at liberty to land on the shores of Greenland, and to sail along the coast.

During this period, so interesting on account of the sudden and unlook ed-for detachment of the ice from Greenland, attention to the state of the atmosphere becomes exceedingly important. It is somewhat remarkable, that electricity has never been allowed to have what appears to be its due share of influence in producing

atmospherical phenomena, while it has been known to pervade the whole ter restrial system, and to be an agent both powerful and terrible. Instru ments have been invented even "to scent the distant winds,"* but inventive powers have not been roused to the production of useful means of ascer taining the electrical state of the air. The author of the paper in the Quar terly Review seems inclined to believe that the Aurora Borealis is connected with the arctic ice. This, however, may be questioned; for it has at different periods appeared with great brilliancy, and again dwindled away, while the ice was known to be stationary. It has been more frequent within the last three or four years, and seems to have been particularly brilliant at the time of the breaking up of the ice. I had occasion, during the months of January, February, and March 1817, to be out of doors almost every night, and many times witnessed the most amazing display of the northern light, extending beyond the zenith, and sometimes covering almost the whole hemisphere. On that night when the most astonishing display I ever saw was exhibited, there was a good deal of wind, and the clouds were moving rapidly. I regret that I have not had the same opportunity of observing the nocturnal sky during the winter just past; but some of your readers may probably be able to afford information, on a subject which will perhaps be found more intimately connected with climate than has been suspected.

I am not prepared, at present, to support the conjecture, that the violence and changes of the wind are frequently caused by the operations of electricity. But I throw it out at present, with the view to tempt some of your readers to make observations on the force and direction of the wind, in various parts of the country. One of the most remarkable facts regarding the wind which has come to my knowledge, is mentioned by Sir George Mackenzie in his Travels in Iceland. That gentleman was at Stromness, in Orkney, when several vessels sailed from thence for America, with the wind blowing fresh from the east. On the day after, the same wind con tinuing, he sailed for Iceland, and when about twenty miles to the west

• Vide Supp. Enc. Brit. article Climate.

ward, overtook these vessels becalmed, and the ship he was in was also be calmed. On his return to Orkney, he found that the wind had continued to blow from the same quarter for several days after he had sailed. This fact affords ample room for speculation; but we ought to multiply observations before we attempt to generalise.

There is no department of science in so infant a state as meteorology; and, at the same time, none perhaps more important or more interesting. I therefore suggest that meteorological observations should be established at a variety of stations in different parts of our island. The ingenious engineer of the Northern Lighthouses, requires only a hint to establish registers in every place to which his able superintendence extends. It would be of very great use to have a complete apparatus in all the lighthouses around Britain and Ireland, the keepers of which have ample time to attend to changes in the atmosphere, and to note the indications of instruments. It is recommended to every one who is in the habit of making meteorological observations, to pay particular attention to the time when the wind changes or alters its intensity; and to observe whether it goes round by the south or north. The direction of the clouds should also be marked along with that of the air on the surface. The most important results would be derived from observatories lying as nearly due east and west, and north and south, of each other as possible. For instance in Scotland, observations made in the Bell Rock Lighthouse, in the observatory of Lord Gray at Kinfauns Castle, at Loch Earn Head, and at Oban, would afford most desirable objects of comparison. There is scarcely a clergyman, or farmer, without a barometer and thermometer; and although the instruments may not be of the nicest construction, still they might contribute largely to our knowledge, if their indications were regularly noted, together with the wind and rain.

It has been observed, that a swell on the sea precedes a gale of wind from the quarter indicated by the swell. When, therefore, a swell is observed coming on, the state of all the meteorological instruments should be noted at short intervals; also the appearance of the sky, both during the

day and night; together with that of the sun and moon; and the halos around them should be measured from time to time. It is only by observing whether phenomena regularly coincide, or follow each other, that we can determine their degree of connection; and by a long continued and accurate series of observations, that we can hope to discover whether the coincidence and sequence are the results of cause and effect.

Having lately heard a discussion respecting the difference of the climate on the east and west coasts of Scotland, I was induced to examine the registers kept under the direction of the Parliamentary Commissioners, chiefly for ascertaining the direction of the wind, by the resident engineers of the Caledonian Canal; from which I have constructed the following table, which includes a period of ten years: It is to be lamented that the servants of the Commissioners have not been supplied with barometers and thermometers. Inverness, Fort Augustus, and Fort William, are in a line nearly S. W. and N. E. This table will, I hope, excite some interest in many of your readers, although it is by no means so important as it would have been, had the stations been due east and west of each other. I may here. point out a few facts not introduced into the tables.

In October 1808, there appear to have been two days of east wind at Inverness, four at Fort William, and thirteen at Fort Augustus; and in the following month of November, fourteen at Fort William, five at Fort Augustus, and four at Inverness.

On the 8th May 1809, the wind blew fresh from the west at Fort William, fresh from the south-west at Inverness, while it was blowing from the east and north-east, also fresh, at the central point Fort Augustus.

On the 15th June 1811, it blew a strong gale from the westward at Fort William and at Inverness, while at Fort Augustus it was calm and sultry.

Many other examples might be selected equally remarkable. By multiplying observations, we might discover the effects of the opposite currents of wind meeting, and rapidly arrive at a point of knowledge, which it is indeed surprising we have not long ago attained.