day, though a certain degree of civilization restricts these petty despots within prudent bounds. Many dark acts of treachery and foul dealing transpire in secret; and, though hushed up at the time, eventually get bruited about, although, in Turkey, they are thought of little importance, being looked upon in the light of every-day occur rences. Such an instance, for example, occurred when we were residing in the pashalik of Adana, in 1845-6, when the governor of a district, fearful that the influence of a cousin might preponderate against his own interests, invited him to dinner, and shot him dead at his own board. This was well known at the time all over the east; and the news was communicated to me the very next day, with the same sangfroid as I might tell my reader that Jones had shot a duck. But what can be expected from ignorant and superstitous men, suddenly elevated into power, without those honourable and moral qualities which adorn the history of so many self-advanced men in our own country ? The history of many a pasha is, indeed, neither more nor less than follows.

than ever. In either case, the faithful pipe-bearer adheres to the fortunes of his patron; he is either basking in the sunshine of his success, or com fortably shaded by the cloak of his misfortunes. On every occasion of the disgrace of a pasha, the unwelcome information is usually accompanied by the unexpected appearance of his successor in office; but never, in any single instance, does the porte condescend to show cause why the imperial mandate has been issued. The pasha learns that his services are no longer required, and that, perhaps, in addition to his loss of place and salary, he is sentenced to be exiled; but the why and wherefore is never discussed. The sultan wills it, and, therefore, the pasha must obey; and he may be thankful that the days are gone by when such imperial mandates were usually accompanied with a silken noose and the grand vizier's complimentsa fatal token that the pasha might either go and strangle himself, or else submit to having the operation performed by rougher arms.

To return, however, to the immediate subject of this paper-the pasha's pipe-bearer-we will, if you A Turkish nobleman is taking his morning ride please, select one specimen from many, and call round the environs of the city, or, it may be, tra- him, for convenience sake, Achmet the goat-herd. velling from place to place in the country. His It is a fine spring morning, and somewhere about attention is attracted by the handsome features, or an hour before mid-day, when Achmet, breathless remarkably strong frame, of some peasant lad, who from abortive attempts to make music sound from has been employed in fetching water for him, or in stubborn Pandean-pipes, stretches himself wearily getting a bit of fire, with which to ignite his pipe. under the shade of some myrtle bush in the plains He is struck with the appearance and intelligence of the Amak, which extend between Scanderoon of the youth, asks him a few questions, and winds and Aleppo; he is possibly meditating on what his up by ordering his followers to carry him along poor mother will contrive to bring him for his midwith them, and bring him again into his presence day repast-a precarious subject, considering the so soon as he has arrived at his journey's end. exhausted state of their joint exchequer; or he is That journey may be five miles in length, or five plaming some method of catching birds, or frighthundred; the pasha, nevertheless, must be obeyed ening away wolves from his flock. By-and-by he to the letter. It is in vain for the goat-herd to hears the distant tramp of horses' hoofs, and startplead that his master's goats must first be driven ing up at the sound, listens more attentively. home, or even to beg that he may be suffered There is evidently a body of horsemen drawing to run back, and tell his friends of the sudden nigh, and the boy anxiously hopes they may turn change in his fortune. The flocks are left to their out to be European travellers, for in such a case he chance, and if not scattered before sun-down by is pretty sure of levying a bucksheesh, or fee, from some hungry wolf, they will, in all probability, trot them. Getting up, he peeps over the bush in the home meekly as ever. As for the goat-herd, the direction of the sound, and then discovers, to his chances are ten to one that he will never set his consternation, that the cavalcade approaching is eyes on home or friends again; from the moment evidently the suite of some pasha, from whose he has mounted one of the pasha's spare bag- menials he has nothing but cuffs and hard words gage-mules, his career has changed; and if he turn to expect. Wisely calculating that it is best to be out to be a sharp-witted lad, apt in the art of flat-civil and willing to oblige-for the rustic lacks not tery, and quick in understanding, the chances are that he will one day become as great a personage as the man in whose train of followers he is now enlisted, and whose very name, and voice, make the child tremble so excessively that he can barely hold on by the saddle of the fractious mule he bestrides. At any rate, if he continues faithful to the discharge of his duties, and becomes attached to his patron, he is sure of sharing the pasha's success or mishaps in life, which, however, is, after all, in some cases, nothing better than a lottery; for the pasha of the Ottoman empire may be to-day in high favour at head-quarters, full of authority, and surrounded by wealth and luxuries, whereas the very next post may bring him the intelligence of his utter disgrace and ruin. Perhaps he is doomed to perpetual exile, or, perhaps, his disgrace may be only temporary, and the sunshine of favour burst forth upon him again with greater brilliancy

common sense-Achmet jumps up on his legs, and runs to the well hard by, drawing water as fast as his strength will permit him, and filling the stone trough, placed there for the convenience of thirsty horses, mules, and camels; he has hardly accomplished this, when the cavalcade arrives, and the pasha dismounts to smoke a pipe and rest himself. The goat-herd then has the audacity to seize upon the pasha's horse, and, loosing the bit from its mouth, leads it to the trough; the attendant sycophants, who have been paralysed at the boy's. impudence, now rush upon him to annihilate him; but their zeal has been misplaced. The pasha interferes, having observed the acuteness of the boy. He asks the trembling goat-herd a few questions, which are answered so adroitly, that the great man at once determines upon enlisting him in his service, and, much to the chagrin of his attendants, the order is given, "Bring him with

us.

"Bash oustana" ("By my head") is the | to his ardour and ambition; but in a week or two only reply; and five minutes afterwards the aston- after his own chastisement, the mutzellim of Antab ished youth finds himself going, he can hardly undergoes the same infliction for a less trivial guess where, or for what purpose, surrounded by offence, and then Achmet is consoled, and finds out the pomp and paraphernalia of a pasha's suite. that in a pasha's palace such floggings are no The sheep are left to take care of themselves; and disgrace, being an every-day occurrence, from the when the poor mother brings the mid-day meal, highest to the lowest. On the whole, however, delighted that she has some extra delicacy in Achmet is an attractive, active lad; he is up with store for her much-loved son, the lad is nowhere to the lark, and busy as the bee. From sunrise till be found. She goes home again, half distracted two hours after sunset he has little or no respite in with the thought that he has fallen a prey to some his duties, for the audience hall of the pasha is wild beast. Another goat-herd is sent to look after always full of visitors and officers, and the whole the flocks, and the chances are that mother and detachment of pipes and narghilies is continually son never meet again, and seldom, if ever, hear of on active service. They are always ready loaded, each other's welfare. to replace a pipe that has been smoked, or to be offered to some new comer. The pasha seldom condescends to speak to his pipe-bearer, except in the harsh tone of command, and he never, by any chance, pays him or gives him the value of a farthing as a present; but then, on the other hand, he never interferes with his getting presents from others, nor, indeed, inquires how the money he sometimes hears rustling in Achmet's pockets came into his possession. Having himself been once upon a time a pipe-bearer, he can pretty well solve the enigma.

On arriving at the head-quarters of the pashalik, Achmet is duly invested with a new suit of highlyembroidered clothes; he is first carried to the Turkish bath, and then, all gold lace and red cloth, is introduced into the presence of his future patron. The pasha intimates to him that he is exalted to the high position of pipe-bearer to his excellency, the former pipe-bearer having just been promoted to the dignified grade of kiama-khan, at some small town within the jurisdiction of the pashalik; but before proceeding to his new post, the old pipebearer initiates the novice into the mysteries of his calling. These are very simple, and easily learned. He must assume command of a large detachment of elegantly-mounted pipes and narghilies. On first rising in the morning, his daily business is, by means of brass wire rods and large pails of water, to purify every pipe, stick, and mouthpiece; the narghilies then have to undergo the same process, and the earthenware bowls attached to both pipes and narghilies have to be exchanged every second day for new ones. Now, if Achmet be a sharp-witted lad, which he doubtless is, he will turn this to account, for the pipe-bowls to be thrown away are almost as good as new, and the merchant who supplies these requisites will be willing to take them back again at half price. The pasha's purse-strings are loosened for the payment of a stipulated weekly supply; hence, onehalf of this sum goes into the pipe-bearer's pocket. Besides this, there are other perquisites to be got out of the tobacco and tinibac merchants, who contract to supply the pasha's household with these Turkish requisites; so that at first starting, the poor penniless goat-herd finds himself well dressed and well fed, besides having an abundant supply of small coin always tinkling in his pocket. But this is by no means all: he also finds himself already a small centre of attraction to the minor officials and servants, and a perfect magnet in the streets and bazaars. Under these circumstances, he begins to think that he is after all somebody of worth and importance; and what with looking in the mirrors, so plentiful in the pasha's serrai (palace), and hearing himself Effendied (made an esquire of), and feeling the continual weight of money in his pocket, he very soon forgets the poor old mother at home and the favourite pet lamb, and is completely wrapped up in self-conceit and pride.

There are some little episodes, too, in Achmet's history. He gets so absorbed in vanity at times, that the pasha's pipes are neglected, and only a good bastinadoing, on the soles of his feet, brings him to his senses. This latter at first puts a check

But what Achmet is particularly strong in, is the etiquette of delivering and receiving a pipe from his master or a visitor, with becoming grace and dignity. This is an art which he has not mastered without much practice before the same mirror that has led him into a false belief of his self-importance and good looks. He has, however, studied to some purpose, for even the most severe critics on this matter who visit the pasha admit, when the boy is beyond hearing, that his actions are grace personified. The laying of the left hand upon the bosom, the advance of the right heel just eight inches in front of the left toes, the graceful twirl with which the pipe bowl is deposited in the tin stand placed for its reception, and the mouthpiece brought to bear within an inch of the pasha's moustache-all this is the subject of admiration to old Turks, and the pasha listens to the encomiums with pride, for he likes to have anything he patronizes praised; and so, at the same time that he calls Achmet an eschek (a donkey), he has secretly determined upon working out his welfare; and some day, accordingly, sees Achmet provided with a gaily caparisoned Arab horse, on which he is hereafter expected to ride whenever he follows his master in his excursions round the environs of the town.

By this time Achmet has imbibed many a deep lesson of treachery and deceit, having been well schooled in vice by those who constantly surround him at the pasha's serrai. If he is accomplished in the art of serving pipes, he is equally famous as a fawning flatterer. No lad of his years can so happily turn a circumstance or a word into a compliment for the pasha; and as he curvettes on his spirited steed, following in the wake of his excellency, he attracts far more attention by his intelligent features and brilliant costume than the pasha himself. Achmet, lighting a pipe for his sedate patron, offers it with a grace and a few words of sycophancy which at once call down the applause of the by-standers.

Some six months after this, the kiama-khan of

Kilis is reported to have been found dead in his bed. He was a protegé of the last pasha's, and suffered to remain in his post by the present one, only on, account of his extreme old age. The pasha enters into possession of his property, and the astonished goat-herd, Achmet, finds himself elevated to the important post thus vacated. The pasha makes him a present, first, of a khatem, or seal, to affix to his despatches-for of course he cannot write or read-then, of a trustworthy scribe; and, lastly, of a couple of handsome horses; and thus the gratified Achmet effendi kiama-khan, enters upon the duties of his office at Kilis. If there was one spark of his native simplicity left when he first enters upon office, this is speedily extinguished by the vortex of crime into which he is at once plunged. He is armed with authority little inferior to that of the governor of Kilis himself, and his heart speedily becomes callons to every one and everything but himself and his own wants and wishes. He takes care to propitiate his patron by continual souvenirs, in the shape of sums of money, wrung by the cruellest extortion from the villagers of his district; and having thus propped up his position at head-quarters, he gives way to unbounded profligacy, aping his first patron in everything, even to the English brandy which he gets smuggled into his harem; for, of course, the effendi kiama-khan gets married, and, with his wife's wealth, supports a retinue of slaves and langers-on.

Such success is not likely to stifle ambition; but the now grown-up man has wit enough to know that he cannot hope to aspire to the high office of a pasha, if he remains ignorant of reading and writing his own language; he therefore devotes many hours to study, and with such a spur to incite him to learning, the two years he remains kiama-khan at Kilis are sufficient to make him a very tolerable Turkish and Arabic scholar. A scholar is a proud title amongst a people where scarcely one in a hundred can be found to write his own name; and the result of Achmet's labour is, that on the first vacancy occurring, the pasha transfers him to the mutzellimship of Antioch, obtaining for his protegé the additional title of bey, or noble. Here, then, Achmet Bey has a wider sphere for the exercise of his power, and much greater facilities for acquiring wealth. He knows that the more money he amasses the better chance he has of some day becoming a pasha, for wealth can purchase anything in the way of titles in Turkey. He is still, however, deep in a reckless life of crime, and there are furrows about his face which clearly foreshadow the result. In the midst of all this luxury and pomp, the pasha is disgraced and recalled to Stamboul. Achmet Bey, at the same time, loses all but the money in his boxes and his title. He sneaks out of his late seat of government, loaded with the execrations of an oppressed peasantry, and we hear nothing of him or his patron, the pasha, for, perhaps, ten years to come. Suddenly a vizier comes into office, who is an old friend of the pasha's, whereupon the pasha himself is named secretary of state for foreign affairs, and our friend the goatherd, who has patiently shared his patron's exile, is at once gazetted as Achmet Pasha, of three tails, and appointed governor of Aleppo. The poor

Peas new pasha, who may turn out better than the peasantry of the pashalik rejoice at the prospect last. The sagest and oldest villagers, however, shake their heads, and declare there is not much to choose between any of them. They little dream that this is the identical man from whose exactions they suffered before, nor are they likely to recog nise, in the prematurely old pasha that rides into the gates of Aleppo, with bloated form and grey beard, the spruce and sprightly lad that not more than fifteen years since had pranced about the streets of the city on a spirited horse, following his master in his then capacity of pipe-bearer.

A LONDON FOG.

WE have good reason for supposing that, of all the antiquities the metropolis can boast, the misty and mystifying visitant named at the head of our columns is indisputably the greatest. Gog and Magog are mushrooms compared to Fog. Long ages before their wooden highnesses existed, Fog was lord paramount, being "to the manner born;" ay, ere London came and sat down quietly on Thames' verdant marge, Fog was king of the marshesabsent occasionally, like other monarchs, during the heats of summer, but keeping solemn court all the winter through, and gladdening the hearts of his loyal and loquacious subjects, the frogs.

When the frogs had made way for men, and bulwarks had risen up in place of bulrushes, Fog became a nuisance, and though despotic as ever, and descending periodically upon his ancient do main, his visits are now but comparatively few and far between; and it has been prophesied, by certain seers, that at no very distant period he may have to abandon his dominions altogether. Meanwhile, owing him no allegiance, we shall deal with him in his own true character as a nuisance, and describe briefly the effect of his presence upon the aspect, material and social, of London city. Fog generally comes to town late in the evening or in the dead of night, though not rigidly bound to any particular time, and disdaining to despatch before him any herald of his approach. We awake some cold morning in November, and, on looking out of window, discover that the opposite side of the street has apparently taken itself off in the night, and that all the world, above and below, is one vast whity-brown cloud, apparently impervious to the view. Perseveringly gazing into it, however, we discern something which looks uncommonly like the Tower of London, with its turrets, at an immense distance, and it is not without many mis givings that we finally come to the conclusion that it is nothing more than our neighbour's chimney, with the usual complement of pots upon the top of it, thrown into illimitable distance, and magni fied through the spectacles of Fog. We descend to the parlour, and, lighting the candles, get through the breakfast with some lurking idea that it may be supper we are taking all the while; and at the usual hour we walk forth to our avocations of the day. In a minute the well-known and unwelcome flavour of Fog salutes and saturates the palate and throat, and visions of cough-lozenges, and gargles, and tinctures, and of phials of physic with bands about their necks, which came to us to try their strength against the influenza last winter,

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float before our mind's eye. But they are dispelled | covering all London like a great-coat; on another, by other and actual visions, looming rapidly into it is a squared mass, meeting you in the street, like view, and as rapidly disappearing-of monstrous a wall of brown paper, into which it is hardly an moving mountains, drawn by mammoths and mega- exaggeration to say that you may thrust your theriums, and driven each one by a shadowy colos- walking-stick before you enter it yourself. In sus of Rhodes, and crowned with other colossi, some seasons, it will be so heavy as to lie for days; sprawling in attitudes absurdly familiar, consider- and at others, the darkest cloud will clear away in ing their immensities, on the top. These we know an hour or two. Fogs are sad hindrances to bu well enough to be the omnibuses, magnified in the siness, and total extinguishers of pleasure. Shopgloom. Every man we meet, indeed, is magnified keepers abhor them, because they keep customers to ten times his proper size at a distance, and only at home, and invite the rogues abroad; and they dwindles down to human dimensions as he rubs find it politic to take indoors their outlying goods, shoulders with us, and is gone. By-and-by the fog to relieve the thief of his opportunity. Cabmen grows darker and denser, and we find, on attempt- and charioteers of all descriptions detest them, ing to turn to the right, that there is no turning from the delay and mischief they occasion, espethere, unless it be into a shop, the owner of which cially when they are so dense as to prevent one informs us that we have come too far, and must go driver from seeing the signal of another-the back to get into the street we want. At the corner exaltation of the whip, which warns those behind we find a policeman, who has taken his stand to stop. Artists have no liking to them, because against the post, and is directing passengers which they put an end, as long as they last, to their way to go to find their destinations. Others are operations. Fog, too, is a redoubtable foe to the standing in the roadway, and doing the same for costermongers and peripatetic tradesmen, both the drivers of vehicles. It is surprising how soon classes swallowing a good deal of it, owing to the one's knowledge of the town flies off in the atmo- extra exertion they are obliged to make with their sphere of a fog so complete as this; and we marvel voices in order to advertise their whereabouts. To at the faculty which enables a blind man to traverse some out-of-door trades it puts a stop altogether, London streets, without missing his way. Now, so long as it endures, and is productive of damage there is a dead-lock of carts, carriages, cabs, and to them all. Its worst characteristic, however, is busses," which block up the roadway, and we the fatal accidents it occasions, scarcely a winter must cross it before we can proceed to our office. ever passing without a number of persons, more or On a sudden, therefore, we are brought to a stand- less in amount, being struck down and maimed, or still; shadowy forms are flitting past us, as though slain in the streets. they were swimming in a sea of brown soup; angry speeches from invisible bawlers, mingled with the grating of wheels one against the other, and the splitting and crashing of coach-panels, cries of alarm from lady passengers, and the imperative voice of the police inspector, form a concert of discordant sounds. What is that? a hand in our pocket? So it was, sure enough-and that new silk handkerchief, in which we were tempted last night to invest four-and-sixpence, and which our wife only hemmed for us after supper, is already off on its route to Field-lane! Well, it might have been worse. We ought to have remembered that a day of fog is a day of days to the pickpocket, when, in a manner, he has his choice of pockets, and the whole population at his mercy, from the impossibility of giving chase to him when he is once off with his booty. How long are we to remain waiting here for a passage? Crack! go the whips again, and they are all off once more; and immediately, with another crash of panelling, they stick The link-boy, above alluded to, is almost an extinct fast anew. We escape through an opening, how-professional in the London streets. In our boyever, and pursue our way to the office, where the hood, ere gas was thought of, and when the only boy has made a blazing fire and lighted the lamps street lights were miserable oil-lamps, whose illufor our reception. minating influence hardly extended beyond the glass pots in which they hung suspended, he and his long greasy torch were as familiar to the inhabitants on a dark night, as the policeman is at present. Now, he only appears upon the scene during a night fog, and it must be one of no common intensity to call him forth, as the streets are too well lighted to render his frequent services desirable. The age of links is virtually over, but they have left memorials behind them more enduring than many which record the career of things of infinitely greater importance: we allude to the gigantic iron extinguishers used for quenching

London fogs differ amazingly in their intensity and extent, and hardly less so in colour. Sometimes they prevail over the whole of the city, and far into the suburbs and outskirts beyond; at others, they lie in heavy masses over the bed and banks of the river, extending but a few furlongs on either side. Now, it is a snow-white, rimy, transparent mist, accompanied with an icy moisture, that seems to find its way to the bones; and now, it is a sort of umber-coloured pudding, through which you can discriminate nothing at the distance of ten feet. On one day, it is an undefined cloud,

The most remarkable fog in our recollection occurred on the night of the 8th of November, 1837, the night previous to the visit of the queen to the corporation of the city. So dense was the brown mist, that persons well acquainted with the town lost their way in traversing short distances. We happened to be visiting two or three miles from home, and certainly owed our safe return to the guidance of the police, and the services of a linkboy, whom we engaged to light us. Along the line which the queen would travel on the following day, men were engaged, by torchlight, laying down gravel for the procession, and but for the flaming flambeaux they would have been in darkness, not a single gas-lamp being discernible, from the centre of the road, through the gloom. A lady walking home with her husband was offered protection by a stranger, whom she accidentally jostled, he not being able to see that she was linked arm-in-arm with her guardian.