new chantings, and the ceremonial closes with renewed and profound salutations to the high-priest. The rotatory motion of the dervishes is almost precisely that of the waltz, and some have supposed that this modern amusement has been derived from them. Many theories have endeavored to explain the origin of these singular ceremonies, some of which have ascribed them to the ancient Asiatic incantations. Besides the dancing dervishes there is a monastery of howling dervishes, whose exercises are quite a tax upon the nerves. Their cries are perfectly deafening, and their gestures frightful from their violence. Amid their frenzied motions they torture themselves with sharp instruments, which are hung about the hall for the purpose, the fanatical devotees being apparently perfectly insensible to the suffering which must necessarily be produced by them. Thus have I given you a few more glimpses at Turkish life. Au revoir. THE HUMOR OF SOUTHEY. NOME of the crities of "Robert the SOM Rhymer, who lived at the lakes," seem to be of opinion, that his "humor" is to be classed with such nonentities as the philosopher's stone, pigeon's milk, and other apocryphal myths and unknown quantities. In analyzing the character of his intellect, they would assign to the "humorous" attribute some such place as Van Troil did to the snaky tribe in his work on Iceland, wherein the title of chapter xv. runs thus: "Concerning Snakes in Iceland;" and the chapter itself thus: "There are no snakes in Iceland." Accordingly, were they to have the composition of this article, they would abbreviate it to the one terse sentence: "Robert Southey had no humor." Now, we have no inclination to claim for the Keswick bard any prodigious or preëminent powers of fun, or to give him place beside the rollicking jesters and genial merry-makers, whose humor gives English literature a distinctive character among the nations. But that he is so void of the comic faculty as certain potent authorities allege, we persistently doubt. Mr. Macaulay affirms that Southey may be always read with pleasure, except when he tries to be droll; that a more insufferable jester never existed; and that, often as he attempts to be humorous, he in no single occasion has succeeded further than to be quaintly and flippantly dull. Another reviewer warned the author of The Doctor, that there is no greater mistake than that which a grave person falls into, when he fancies himself humorous; adding, as a consolatory corollary to this proposition, that unquestionably the doctor himself was in this predicament. But Southey was not so rigorously grave a person as his graver writings might seem to imply. "I am quite as noisy as ever I was," he writes to an old Oxford chum, when in sober manhood. "O, dear Lightfoot, what a blessing it is to have a boy's heart! it is as great a blessing in carrying one through this world, as to have a child's spirit will in fitting us for the next." On account of this boyish-heartedness, he is compared by Justice Talfourd to Charles Lamb himself: "In a certain primness of style, bounding in the rich humor which overflowed it, they were nearly akin; both alike reverenced childhood, and both had preserved its best attributes unspotted from the world." In the fifty-fifth year of his age, he characterized himself as a man -by nature merry, Somewhat Tom-foolish, and comical very; Who has gone through the world, not unmindful of pelf, Upon easy terms, thank Heaven, with himself; And never for great, nor for little things, No one can dip into The Doctor without being convinced of this buoyance of spirit, quickness of fancy, and blitheness of heart. It even vents its exuberance in bubbles of levity and elaborate trifling, so that all but the very light-hearted are fain to say: Something too much of this. Compared with our standard humorists-the peerage, or upper house, who sit sublimely aloft, like "Jove in his chair, of the sky my lord mayor "-Southey may be but a dull commoner, one of the third or fourth estate. But for all that, he has a comfort Southey was no purist in his phraseology at times. The not very refined monosyllable in the text may. however, be tolerated as having a technical relation to the fiddle-strings by hypothesis. able fund of the vis comica, upon which he rubs along pleasantly enough, hospitably entertaining not a few congenial spirits who can put up with him as they find him, relish his simple and often racy fare, and enjoy a decent quantum of jokes of his own growing, without pining after the brilliant banquets of comedy spread by opulent barons of the realm. To support this apology for the worthy doctor by plenary proof, would involve a larger expenditure of space and letterpress than befits the economy of a discreet journal. We can but allude, and hint, and suggest, and illustrate our position in an "off-at-a-tangent" sort of way. Look, for instance, at his ingenious quaintness in the matter of onomatology. What a name, he would say, is Lamb for a soldier, Joy for an undertaker, Rich for a pauper, or Noble for a tailor; Big for a lean or little person, and Small for one who is broad in the rear and abdominous in the van; Short for a fellow six feet without his shoes, or Long for him whose high heels barely elevate him to the height of five; Sweet for one who has either a vinegar face, or a foxy complexion; Younghusband for an old bachelor; Merryweather for any one in November or February, a black spring, a cold summer, or a wet autumn; Good for a person no better than he should be; Toogood for any human creature; and Best for a subject who is perhaps too bad to be endured. Amusing, too, are the doctor's reasons for using the customary alias of female Christian names-never calling any woman Mary, for example, though Mare being the sea, he said, too emblematic of the sex; but using a synonyme of better omen, and Molly therefore was to be preferred as being soft. "If he accosted a vixen of that name in her worst mood, he mollified her. Martha he called Patty, because it came pat to the tongue. Dorothy remained Dorothy, because it was neither fitting that women should be made Dolls nor Idols. Susan with him was always Sue, because women were to be sued; and Winifred Winny, because they were to be won." Or refer to that pleasant bit of erudite trifling upon the habits of rats, beginning with the remark, that wheresoever man goes rat follows or accompanies him, town or country being equally agreeable to him; entering upon your house as a tenant-at-will-his own, not yours-working out for himself a covered-way in your walls, ascending by it from one story to another, and leaving you the larger apartments, while he takes possession of the space between floor and ceiling, as an entresol for himself. "There he has his parties, and his revels, and his gallopades-merry ones they are— when you would be asleep, if it were not for the spirit with which the youth and belles of rat-land keep up the ball over your head. And you are more fortunate than most of your neighbors, if he does not prepare for himself a mausoleum, behind your chimney-piece or under your hearthstone, retire into it when he is about to die, and very soon afford you full proof that though he may have lived like a hermit, his relics are not in the odor of sanctity. You have then the additional comfort of knowing, that the spot so appropriated will thenceforth be used as a common cemetery or a family vault." In the same vein, homage is paid to Rat's imitation of human enterprise: showing how, when the adventurous merchant ships a cargo for some foreign port, Rat goes with it; how, when Great Britain plants a colony at the antipodes, Rat takes the opportunity of colonizing also; how, when ships are sent out on a voyage of discovery, Rat embarks as a volunteer; doubling the stormy Cape with Diaz, arriving at Malabar with Gama, discovering the New World with Columbus, and taking possession of it at the same time, and circumnavigating the globe with Magellan, and Drake, and Cook. Few that have once read will forget the doctor's philological contributions toward an amended system of English orthography. Assuming the propriety of discarding all reference to the etymology of words, when engaged in spelling them, and desirous, as a philological reformer, to establish a truly British language, he proposes introducing a distinction of genders, in which the language has hitherto been defective. Thus, in anglicizing the orthography of chemise, he resolves the foreign substantive into the home-grown neologisms, masculine and feminine, of Hemise and Shemise. Again, in letterwriting, every person, he remarks, is aware that male and female letters have a distinct sexual character; they should, therefore, be generally distinguished thus, -Hepistle and Shepistle. And as there new chantings, and the ceremonial closes with renewed and profound salutations to the high-priest. The rotatory motion of the dervishes is almost precisely that of the waltz, and some have supposed that this modern amusement has been derived from them. Many theories have endeavored to explain the origin of these singular ceremonies, some of which have ascribed them to the ancient Asiatic incantations. Besides the dancing dervishes there is a monastery of howling dervishes, whose exercises are quite a tax upon the nerves. Their cries are perfectly deafening, and their gestures frightful from their violence. Amid their frenzied motions they torture themselves with sharp instruments, which are hung about the hall for the purpose, the fanatical devotees being apparently perfectly insensible to the suffering which must necessarily be produced by them. Thus have I given you a few more glimpses at Turkish life. Au revoir. THE HUMOR OF SOUTHEY. as he attempts to be humorous, he in no single occasion has succeeded further than to be quaintly and flippantly dull. Another reviewer warned the author of The Doctor, that there is no greater mistake than that which a grave person falls into, when he fancies himself humorous; adding, as a consolatory corollary to this proposition, that unquestionably the doctor himself was in this predicament. But Southey was not so rigorously grave a person as his graver writings might seem to imply. "I am quite as noisy as ever I was," he writes to an old Oxford chum, when in sober manhood. "O, dear Lightfoot, what a blessing it is to have a boy's heart! it is as great a blessing in carrying one through this world, as to have a child's spirit will in fitting us for the next." On account of this boyish-heartedness, he is compared by Justice Talfourd to Charles Lamb himself: "In a certain primness of style, bounding in the rich humor which overflowed it, they were nearly akin; both alike reverenced childhood, and both had preserved its best attributes unspotted from the world." In the fifty-fifth year of his NOME of the crities of "Robert the age, he characterized himself as a man SOME of, the lived at the lake, som to be of opinion, that his "humor" is to be classed with such nonentities as the philosopher's stone, pigeon's milk, and other apocryphal myths and unknown quantities. In analyzing the character of his intellect, they would assign to the "humorous" attribute some such place as Van Troil did to the snaky tribe in his work on Iceland, wherein the title of chapter xv. runs thus: "Concerning Snakes in Iceland;" and the chapter itself thus: "There are no snakes in Iceland." Accordingly, were they to have the composition of this article, they would abbreviate it to the one terse sentence: "Robert Southey had no humor." Now, we have no inclination to claim for the Keswick bard any prodigious or preeminent powers of fun, or to give him place beside the rollicking jesters and genial merry-makers, whose humor gives English literature a distinctive character among the nations. But that he is so void of the comic faculty as certain potent authorities allege, we persistently doubt. Mr. Macaulay affirms that Southey may be always read with pleasure, except when he tries to be droll; that a more insufferable jester never existed; and that, often -by nature merry, Upon easy terms, thank Heaven, with himself; And never for great, nor for little things, No one can dip into The Doctor without But for all that, he has a comfort *Southey was no purist in his phraseology at times. The not very refined monosyllable in the text may. however, be tolerated as having a technical relation to the fiddle-strings by hypothesis. able fund of the vis comica, upon which he rubs along pleasantly enough, hospitably entertaining not a few congenial spirits who can put up with him as they find him, relish his simple and often racy fare, and enjoy a decent quantum of jokes of his own growing, without pining after the brilliant banquets of comedy spread by opulent barons of the realm. not yours-working out for himself a covered-way in your walls, ascending by it from one story to another, and leaving you the larger apartments, while he takes possession of the space between floor and ceiling, as an entresol for himself. "There he has his parties, and his revels, and his gallopades-merry ones they arewhen you would be asleep, if it were not for the spirit with which the youth and belles of rat-land keep up the ball over your head. And you are more fortunate than most of your neighbors, if he does not prepare for himself a mausoleum, behind your chimney-piece or under your hearthstone, retire into it when he is about to die, and very soon afford you full proof that though he may have lived like a hermit, his relics are not in the odor of sanctity. You have then the additional comfort of knowing, that the spot so appropriated will thenceforth be used as a common cemetery or a family vault." In the same vein, homage is paid to Rat's imitation of human enterprise: showing how, when the adventurous merchant ships a cargo for some foreign port, Rat goes with it; how, when Great Britain plants a colony at the antipodes, Rat takes the opportunity of colonizing also; how, when ships are sent out on a voyage of discovery, Rat embarks as a volunteer; doubling the stormy Cape with Diaz, arriving at Malabar with Gama, discovering the New World with Columbus, and taking possession of it at the same time, and circumnavigating the globe with Magellan, and Drake, and Cook. To support this apology for the worthy doctor by plenary proof, would involve a larger expenditure of space and letterpress than befits the economy of a discreet journal. We can but allude, and hint, and suggest, and illustrate our position in an "off-at-a-tangent" sort of way. Look, for instance, at his ingenious quaintness in the matter of onomatology. What a name, he would say, is Lamb for a soldier, Joy for an undertaker, Rich for a pauper, or Noble for a tailor; Big for a lean or little person, and Small for one who is broad in the rear and abdominous in the van; Short for a fellow six feet without his shoes, or Long for him whose high heels barely elevate him to the height of five; Sweet for one who has either a vinegar face, or a foxy complexion; Younghusband for an old bachelor; Merryweather for any one in November or February, a black spring, a cold summer, or a wet autumn; Good for a person no better than he should be; Toogood for any human creature; and Best for a subject who is perhaps too bad to be endured. Amusing, too, are the doctor's reasons for using the customary alias of female Christian names-never calling any woman Mary, for example, though Mare Few that have once read will forget the being the sea, he said, too emblematic of doctor's philological contributions toward the sex; but using a synonyme of better an amended system of English orthogomen, and Molly therefore was to be pre- raphy. Assuming the propriety of disferred as being soft. "If he accosted a carding all reference to the etymology of vixen of that name in her worst mood, he words, when engaged in spelling them, and mollified her. Martha he called Patty, desirous, as a philological reformer, to because it came pat to the tongue. Doro- establish a truly British language, he prothy remained Dorothy, because it was poses introducing a distinction of genders, neither fitting that women should be made in which the language has hitherto been Dolls nor Idols. Susan with him was defective. Thus, in anglicizing the oralways Sue, because women were to be thography of chemise, he resolves the sued; and Winifred Winny, because they foreign substantive into the home-grown were to be won." Or refer to that pleas- neologisms, masculine and feminine, of ant bit of erudite trifling upon the habits Hemise and Shemise. Again, in letterof rats, beginning with the remark, that writing, every person, he remarks, is wheresoever man goes rat follows or ac- aware that male and female letters have a companies him, town or country being distinct sexual character; they should, equally agreeable to him; entering upon therefore, be generally distinguished thus, your house as a tenant-at-will-his own, |—Hepistle and Shepistle. And as there 372 is the same marked difference in the None but a "humorist" would have I believe we are, each and all, servants This patrician Bawdrons is not forgotten in Our good old cat, Earl Tomlemagne, Even like a kitten at its sport, Upon a warm spring-day. understand a "humane influence, softening with mirth the ragged inequalities of existence" the very "juice of the mind oozing from the brain, and enriching and fertilizing wherever it falls"—and seldom far removed from its kindred spirit, pathos, with which, however, it is not too closely akin to marry; for pathos is bound up in mysterious ties with humor-bone of its bone, and flesh of its flesh. Nor can we assent to the assertion, that in his ballads, metrical tales, and rhyming jeux-d'esprit, Southey's essay to be comic And with all their extravaresults in merely "quaint and flippant dullness." gances of expression and questionable THE OLD EVENINGS. BY CHARLES SWAIN. I WANDER'D by the old house, But what though we 'd the old house, |