set sail, and, in two days, made the island Fortaventura. M. Cochelet and his friends took care to land their trunks and luggage, intending, no doubt, to proceed by the diligence, but the natives very unceremoniously took possession of their goods and chattels, and obliged them to assist in unloading their ship, which they did very leisure ly, and then burnt her. The savages into whose hands they had thus fallen, are represented as the most hideous monsters that exist in human shape, and as the last link in the chain that connects man with the brute creation. On their landing, their chief, named Fairry, gave them a most gracious reception, holding out one hand, in token of friendship, and with the other pointing to heaven, and repeating "Allah Akbar," "God is great." He then led them to a sand hill, kindly offering to carry their arms, and shewed them the desert, with the purpose, no doubt, of letting them know how entirely they were in his power. "If this was his object, he accomplished it completely; for it was impossible for me to observe without dismay this sea of sand, the horizon of which mingled itself with a sky of fire; and the calm and silent immobility of which was a thousand times more striking than the agitation of the ocean during a tempest." The politeness of the natives was soon changed for the most capricious tyranny and contempt. By the women, in particular, they were obliged to perform the most abject offices-prepare their food, of which they did not deign to give them a share, or dig in the sand for a scanty pittance of brackish water. Our author was sent off to the ship to assist in searching for argeono, or money. It was in vain to intimate that he could not swim-prompt obedience was necessary, and he contrived, with some difficulty, to get on board. He found the Africans engaged in a furious attack on two pigs, these unclean animals being the abhorrence of all true Musselmen. Having no provisions but what the ship afforded, and being withal but indifferent judges of salt meat, before eating any part of it they constantly called on our Frenchmen to distinguish the beef from the pork, by lowing like cows, or grunting like hogs. When the ship beat so high that the ladies could go off, they were obliged to act as stepping-stones, to assist them in ascending the ship's sides. "They placed themselves, without ceremony, upon us, and afterwards made use of their hands to finish their clambering. If you consider that they were the most destitute of clothing, you will have little repulsive creatures in the world, and almost difficulty in believing that it was a very singular task for us to supply the place of stepping-stones to these women. It seemed, without doubt, very diverting to them, which they expressed by shouts of laughter, for they appeared to take a pleasure in it, of the coarsest and most insulting nature that can be imagined.” The most unreasonable of all their demands, however, was in sending them aloft to unbend the top-sails. The only expedient that occurred to them, to enable them to obey this command, was to cut away the masts. "During more than two hours, we applied the axe with redoubled force. They gave way at last, but with such a crash, that I was struck with the effect produced by the noise of their fall, reiterated as it was, for a long time, among the hillocks of sand, by echoes, of which perhaps, till time, without doubt, the silence of many then, they were unconscious. For the first ages had been disturbed. So violent and transient a commotion, rendered more dreadful still the calm by which it was succeeded, and with which this frightful desert was reinvested, perhaps for ever." For about ten days they were employed in plunder. The natives shewed the most astonishing want of discrimination in their selection of the booty. Money and provisions were the great objects of their aviditybuttons were more valued than diamonds-the finest laces lay neglected on the beach, or were used to tie the mouths of sacks-but, above all, to a literary man, the dispersion of so many works of merit, was most afflicting. "How many copies of works of merit will be for ever deprived of readers! I the most opposite sentiments, borne equalhave seen thousands of volumes, containing ly by the wind into the interior of the desert." Letters and newspapers were equally scattered. In the midst of these melancholy reflections the captain came up with a face of satisfaction, announcing the apparition of two "jolies Parisiennes," whom a disaster similar to their own had thrown on this inhospitable coast. M. Cochelet thought the poor man's head turned by his misfortunes; he however followed him, and saw, by the glimmering fire in their tent, two ladies "en veritable costume de bal," one of them in a robe" de crepe rose, garnie des fleurs, et l'autre une robe de satin blanc, brodée en lames d'argent." Both of them had caps and feathers of the last Parisian fashions. "I had not yet been able to see the divine figures which such elegant equipments led me to ascribe to their wearers. I approached nearer, and, to my great astonishment, under those beautiful coverings, which our Parisian' marchandes de modes' had, without doubt, prepared for other heads, I see the horrible Sinné, with his frightful hair, and my master Hamet, who was no less terrible." On the 10th of June a party of Bedouin Arabs arrived; they were distinguished from their former friends by the splendour of their dress and arms, and their noble and imposing demeanour; they were commanded by Sidi Hamet, a chief who is well known as having rescued Capt. Riley and his companions, and also the crew of a ship belonging to Glasgow, which was wrecked on the same coast about six years ago. Sidi Hamet purchased the Frenchmen from the natives, and on the 17th set out with them on their route through the desert for Wednoon, or Quadnoun, as it is here spelt. A journey in the desert can never become a party of pleasure. The sufferings of the party are related in the same minute and lively manner, but do not admit of abridgment. Previous to their arrival at Wednoon, Sidi Hamet sold them to the Cheik Berotic, who resided there, and from thence they transmitted a statement of their case to Mr. Wiltshire, the English Consul at Mogadore. The French agent there forwarded their case to the consul at Tangier, and through his intervention they were ransomed by the Emperor of Morocco. After remaining three months at Wednoon,during which one of their companjons died,they proceeded to Mogadore. They were now mounted on mules, but their sufferings had not yet ended! exhausted with heat and fatigue after a journey of six days, they arrived at Tarodant, a populous town belonging to the Emperor of Morocco; they entered the town in the evening, but, upon the cry of "Nsara!" or Christians!" the inhabitants pursued them with hootings and imprecations, and they were with some difficulty protected by their escort. They were lodged in a pavilion in a garden belonging to the Emperor, and committed to the charge of two renagades, a Spaniard and an Italian, who treated them with the utmost hospitality and kindness. The description of this delicious garden recals the stories of the "Arabian Nights." "Perhaps none ever passed by such a sudden transition from a situation so miserable to one so transporting. A moment before we were abandoned to the most painful disquietudes, in the midst of a accessible as we were to their approach, crowd of infuriated savages, and now, inthe tranquillity which was procured us by that isolated state which was the constant object of all our desires. This change, id, that the cries and imprecations which we had heard appeared to us the effect of a dream. The most complete silence reigned around us; the noise of some spouting streams of water, and the hollow murmuralone disturbed the calm of a delightful ing of the woods, agitated by a light breeze, evening. We found ourselves transported into a garden of vast extent. The darkness prevented us from judging of its beau from one condition to another, was so rap ty, but the perfume of orange trees, with which the air was scented, promised us a delicious abode. "A magnificent alley, embellished on both sides with groves of that fruit tree,led to a pavilion,situated at the end of the garden. "As soon as day-light appeared, I began to examine the place where I was astonished to find myself, and of which I had as yet but an imperfect idea. Advancing to pavilion, I beheld the vast extent of the garthe terrace, which was contiguous to the den, concerning which I could not form a correct judgment the evening before. This first impression which one feels, but cannot express, when the return of day unfolds to uation; the freshness of morning; the view a delightful, and, as yet, unknown sitperfume exhaled from a thousand orangetrees covered with blossoms; the appearance of so many overflowing fountains, so had been as yet strangers, left a delicious many sources of enjoyment, to which we impression on all our minds, "The height of the walls which surround the garden first arrested my attention: they are as high as those of the town, and indented in the same manner. The pavilion, propped against them, is situated to wards the north, opposite the governor's palace. A single inclosure of walls surrounds the palace, and the garden separates them from the town, and serves them for a rampart. In one of the towers, raised at certain distances on the walls, was seen a piece of ordnance. It appeared to be intended, in time of war, for driving away an enemy who might be tempted to approach the town on the side of the pavilion. "This pavilion, composed of five rooms, the largest of which is in the middle of the other four, is remarkable for its commodious arrangement, and the elegance of its decorations. It has three entrances: the principal one, facing the avenue of orange trees, is fronted by a terrace and a gallery which has three openings arched above. The two others are on the right and left of the buildings. Nothing can be imagined richer than the ornaments of the principal division, though it had been stript of its state, and of the furniture which embellished it during the abode of the Sultan. The ceiling of wood, painted of different colours, and in imitation of a tent, particularly attracted my notice, from the skill displayed in the work. A crown of gilded suns, fixed on the wall, and much resembling stucco, formed the elegant border which encompassed the room at the top, immediately under the ceiling, and the floor of the chamber was a sort of Mosaic, composed of an immense number of polished stones of different colours. The doors, although defaced by age, still shone with gilding, which was well preserv ed An immense orange tree, and a date tree, loaded with fruit, reached the terrace contiguous to the building, and mingled their foliage with the green tiles which covered it." Nothing was wanting to their satisfaction here but a change of clothes and clean linen, a luxury they had not enjoyed since their shipwreck; they were consequently covered with rags and vermin. In this state they proceeded to Magadore, where they arrived on the 13th of October. Their delight on beholding the town and shipping could only be equalled by meeting a person in the European dress. "In a moment, without asking any information, without demanding either his rank or his name, we stretched out our arms towards him, well satisfied that the first European who offered himself to our view could not but be a brother, sensible of our misfortunes. We mingled our embraces, without having, at first the power to pronounce a single word; and the emotion of that Christian, more than his words, announced to us that we held in our embrace M. Casaccia." How Mr. Casaccia received such an embrace before their toilet was made, we are not informed. We shall not detain our readers with their succeeding adventures, nor with Mr. Cochelet's remarks on the present state of Morocco, which contain little either of importance or novelty; but as every visitor to Africa is expected to clear up some of the mysteries respecting the interior of that vast continent, we cannot pass over the "Nouveaux renseignmens sur la ville de Timecto," so pompously announced in the titlepage. During their stay at Wedno in, a Moorish merchant arrived from Tcmbuctoo, or Timectou, as our author chooses to spell it, and he endeavoured to acquire some information from him concerning it; but it seems the Moor told so many lies, and exaggerated so much, that no reliance could be placed on his account. Hamar, a Moorish servant of his master the Cheik Beroue, observing his anxiety, told him, he was acquainted with a merchant who had visited that city, and on this hearsay account he affects to doubt of the reality of the visits made by Robert Adams or Sidi Hamet to Tombuctoo. The account given by Hamar is, that, about seven years before, a merchant of Rabat proposed to him to accompany him to Tombuctoo, which Hamar agreed to; but on their arrival at Wednoon, the intelligence that a caravan had perished in the desert, deMahommed, his companion, went on, terred him from proceeding; but Sidi and on his return informed him, that, after suffering great hardships, he arrived on the fortieth day after his departure from Wednoon at Taudeny, a town inhabited partly by Negroes and partly by Arabs. After staying there some time, he quitted it, and in fifteen day's more reached Tombuctoo, a city about three times the size of Fez, (which, we are told in a note, contains about 90,000 inhabitants.) At the period of their arrival they had only quitted the desert four days. The first appearance of the city, situated in an immense plain, was very striking, and its extent greatly surpassed the expectas tion of Sidi Mahommed. The gates were shut when the caravan arrived, but on the sentry firing off his musket, a guard of about a hundred Negroes armed with darts, daggers, and some muskets, came out from the city and pointed out a place for them to remain without the walls. After trading with the inhabitants, chiefly in tobacco, for which they received gold dust and ornaments of the same metal, at the end of six days they were admitted within the walls, and lodged within the quarter of the Moors which is situated near the King's palace. The interior of this building was richly adorned with gold; the Sultan had only reigned two years, 1813 and 1814, having succeeded to his father, who had been assassinated. During their stay, a number of slaves were brought in from Bambarra. Sidi Mahommed estimated their numbers at three thousand. He purchased twentyfive for goods, which were only valued at five hundred franks. These slaves were sold principally to the Moors, who carried them across the desert to Morocco. The interior of the city resembled an immense camp, or rather a number of separate encampments, the houses being insulated and scattered about without regard to order or symmetry. A river named Ouaddi Soudan, flowed about two leagues to the south; the road between it and the city was constantly crowded with Negroes bearing burdens on their heads, and camels loaded with merchandise. The river was covered with vessels, many of them of considerable size, which, Sidi Mahommed was informed, came from Djinné, and navigated a great distance towards the east. Beyond the river, about half a day's journey to the south of Tombuctoo, is a small town called Oualadi, the environs of which are very fertile, and from which the capital draws its chief supply of provisions. An epidemic disease, which raged at the time, determined Sidi Mahommed to hasten his departure. He experienced fresh disasters on his return, and lost several of his slaves in the desert, but, on the whole, his expedition proved a profitable one. M. Cochelet infers, that Adams could not have visited Tombuctoo, merely because he never heard the circumstance mentioned by Hamar, his informer, who had been more than six years resident at Wednoon. If such an objection required an answer, it would be found in the account of Sidi Mahommed, which, as far as it goes, confirms that given by Adams, particularly in the relative position of that city and the Niger, for the Ouadi, Soudan, and Niger, are evidently the same, or rather one of its branches, which issue from the lake Dibbie. We may add, that Monsieur Lapie, in his notes to the map that accompanies the work, states his conviction that Adams must have visited Tombuctoo. THE THE MARTYR OF ANTIOCH. (Monthly Magazine, Apr.) HE Martyr of Antioch, a dramatic poem, lately published, by the Rev. H. H. MILMAN, Professor of Poetry in the university of Oxford, if not endowed with the striking energies of that school of poetry, to which our empirical Laureate has ascribed a satanic character, yet displays a degree of power and dignity, which always ensures him respect, and sometimes deserves admiration. His taste, on the other hand, is too pure, and his elevation of mind too great to allow him to fall into the babbling prolixity and con temptible puerilities of the Bards of the Lakes, whilst he is by no means deficient in that simplicity and tenderness of sentiment, to which those writers advance such exclusive pretensions. The materials of poetry are, indeed, so mixed up in him, and have received such assiduous and well-directed cultivation, that his works present, in our opinion, as many beauties, combined with as few faults, as are to be found in any of our authors. Without ranking him in the very first class, he will undoubtedly attain and secure a high sta tion amongst the most pleasing and unexceptionable of our poets. In his selection of subjects, Mr. Milman is most likely in some measure influenced by his profession; and to this, to a certain extent, there is no objection. The "Martyr of Antioch" partakes more of this spirit than his last work, the "Fall of Jerusalem;" and rather more, we are inclined to say, than is requisite for a production of general interest. We do not wish to see Mr. Milman confine himself, like Mrs. Hannah More, to the inditing of Sacred Dramas. His profession cannot demand from him this sacrifice. We proceed, at once, to the martyrdom of St. Margaret. The daughter of a heathen priest, (in the drama called Callias,) beloved by Olybius, the Roman Prefect of the East, Margaret suffered death in the persecution of the Christians at Antioch, in the reign of the Emperor Probus. Margarita, notwithstanding these invocations, does not appear; and, on searching the sanctuary, it is found in a state of profane confusion, and the priestess is sought for in vain. The alarmed father upbraids the Prefect with the abduction of his daughter, and in the midst of their alarm, Vopiscus enters with the Emperor's mandate, commanding Olybius to institute new severities against the Christians. Margarita now, rather unaccountably, enters, and hearing these orders, without yet divulging her faith, cannot repress her emotions: Macer. The poem opens with a sacrifice to Apollo, introduced by a hymn to that deity, which is somewhat too long. Margarita alone is expected to complete the ceremony. She is the priestess of the god, and herself little less than a goddess, in the beautiful description of the poet. Macer. What, then, is wanting? Second Priest. What, but the crown and palm-like The sacred virgin, on whose footsteps beauty Third Priest. Is scattered like a cloud of gold: her hands Do hold a sad communion with the heavens, And her lips move, yet make no sound. Third Priest. She's rapt-possess'd !— Margarita. I he crown-the crown of glory- Sec. Priest. She is distracted by our gaze- We next find Margaret passing secretly in the evening through the grove of Daphne, to warn her assembled brethren of their approaching danger, and pausing to apostrophize the scene First Roman. Thou mean'st the daughter of the of her former idolatry. holy Callias; Oh, thou polluted, yet most lovely grove! |