* Constance.

stars which "die out from south to north;" the description in one of the latter poems of the nightingale breaking her heart with jealousy of the music which she hears, and yet, such is the beauty of the sounds, waiting till they cease, to die; the exquisite lines, which are like Shakespeare's in their intuitive truth and felicity,

The heart's deep joy is seldom stirred,
Yet at a touch it overflows;

all show such a clear poetic receptivity, and such a tenderness of sentiment, never deviating into unmanly sentimentality-such a deep perception of the beautiful, and the pure and gentle, joined with such condensed and manly thought; that we have no hesitation in saying that Mr. Gerard has done the public much service by publishing his book, and that we are thankful to him for putting us into a better humour with the poetical power of the age. To tell Mr. Gerard that he is a poet would be vain, for his own heart will tell him so; yet in one or two places his lines are weak, and convey no idea to the mind but the tritenesses of common poetry. In another, we should not mention this; in him it is a fault, for he must feel their insufficiency. Nevertheless, with head uncovered we bid him farewell; in minds like his we see the hope of the poetic idea. For we shall yet, when the evil reaction from the pure spiritualistic poetry of the time has passed away, advance to a yet higher land. We shall climb the upper earth which Plato sung of, far above the foggy valleys of sentimentality, and the gross materialism of the senses, and reach the many colored Home of Song, where the sea is pure as as air, and the air the poets breathe is the clear impalpable of the ether.

A FEW days before we left Nicosia we were admitted to an audience with his highness the Pasha.

We understood from our cicerone, Captain Jones, that some kind of present was indispensably necessary as a preliminary to the desired interview. This was a stumbling-block. A few pieces of coin held in the hand and presented to be touched, which would have done in India, would not do here. Something must be given, and the question was, what had we of sufficient value, or sufficiently curious, to answer the purpose. Again, was it worth while purchasing an article for presentation? Was the interview worth the probable outlay? After much consultation, and many balancings of the pros and cons of the matter, we were finally relieved of the difficulty by the ready wit of one of the ladies of our party. She had a worked scarf that had come from Delhi, and had been touched by his majesty the king of Delhi, the living representative of the Great Moguls. Its having been so touched was a small matter to us-to the Pasha and his wives it would be a matter of considerable importance.

It was not, however, without some lingering apprehension that our present was too insignificant in value, and that we were rendering ourselves ridiculous thereby, that we made our way through the outer court-yard to the pile of building which had been the palace of the Lusignans, the seat of the Venetian Proconsul, and was now the Serai of the Turkish Governor. The present was borne on a silver tray in front of us, and I had judiciously obtained the loan of a cover for it, in order that the prying eyes of the servants of the Serai might not discover its littleness. The salver, surmounted by a very elegant silver cover, looked imposing as it was borne along by one of our servants, through the centre of the court-yard. We fol

lowed it two by two-each of the first three gentlemen escorting a lady, for the wife of the captain accompanied us.

We passed the fountain, and drew nearer the grand entrance of the palace. A few steps led to the door. Two lines of servants, elegantly dressed, bowed as we drew near, each servant occupying a separate step. There was something imposing about the whole ceremony. I thought of the second-hand Delhi scarf upon the silver salver, and sighed mentally.

The hall, supported by marble columns, was large and imposing. It was hung round with weapons, ancient and modern, rather resembling the vestibule of a museum than of a palace. The lines of servants were here, too, alternating with soldiers. We mounted the grand stair-case in solemn silence--the silver dish ever preceding us.

At length folding doors were thrown open at the head of the staircase; some words in Turkish, to which I did not pay much attention, were uttered, and we were ushered into a kind of throne-room. It was comparatively empty and desertedlooking. A few officers of the Serai alone occupied it, stealing about noiselessly, speaking under their breath, and evidently awaiting the arrival of the Pasha. One of these spoke to Captain Jones. He was anxious to see one of our company who had served the King of Oude in Lucknow, for the captain had made the fact known previously. He was introduced, was told the Pasha had a great desire to see him, and was then left as before, standing awkwardly in front of the musnud or throne, with the rest of the party.

The room was probably sixty feet long by twenty or thirty wide. It was lit by lofty windows, which commenced about five or six feet from the ground. There was nothing that

was dazzling or splendid about the apartment, yet its effects were imposing. The windows were hung with what had been rich curtains of light purple or plum-colored velvet, edged with gold lace. Swords, scimitars and pistols ornamented the panels between. The floor was of cedar, polished. We had been standing, perhaps ten minutes, in the centre of the apartment, when a side door opened at the opposite extremity of the chamber to that by which we had entered, and a Turkish officer in military uniform, with the ordinary fez cap on his head, entered. We saw that it was the Pasha by the low bowing of the attendants.

As he drew near the cushions prepared for his reception, I had ample time to note his aspect and air. He was rather below the middle height, although of a somewhat portly figure. His face was somewhat African in its features, darker than I had anticipated. There was a well-bred air about him-nothing vulgar or presuming. He had been brought up in Constantinople, and had, doubtless, mixed in good society there. He returned our bows cordially. Captain Jones then commenced his oration, which had, doubtless, been prepared for the occasion diligently. Ishould have preferred something less evidently studied-more commonplace and natural.

In excellent Turkish, the captain mentioned our wanderings through Egypt, our determination to see Cyprus, our journey from Larnacca. He related, too, that three of us had been in India, and one, a servant of the Company there that another had seen and conversed with the Emperor of Delhi, the Great Mogul, and then came the allusion to the scarf which his majesty had touched. The Pasha took it into his hands with apparent interest, and examined it. I watched him. He was evidently not disposed to make light of our present. There

was no covert smile struggling round his lips-no disposition to merriment. All was curiosity and interest rather.

The speech concluded, the Pasha thanked us politely in a few words ; requested us to be seated; declared that "his wife" would be delighted with the present, and asked the ladies if they would take it to her. Jones was still the interpreter. They were quite ready to take it. The Pasha

himself rose-offered his arm to the most showily-dressed of the three with well-bred ease-and marched off with them all to the private apartments through the door from whence he had issued.

"Our reception is a most flattering one," exclaimed the captain, "it is seldom he is so affable. The scarf has wrought wonders."

On his return, the Pasha asked many questions about India; about the Emperor of Delhi, of whose dependent condition he evidently had no very definite or correct idea; about the Company's army; and about the French settlements. He seemed slightly incredulous when we told him how very small the French settlements were, compared with the English dominions-seemed slightly incredulous, but not rudely so. I was amazed at his credulity. He evidently thought that patriotic partiality blinded us to the truth, or prevented our giving expression to it.

Coffee and pipes were introduced, and we chatted as familiarly as we could through the medium of an interpreter, for the Pasha spoke no language but his own. At length, feeling that our interview was of longer duration than ordinary, I told the captain to ask leave for us to retire. The Pasha thereupon sent a message to the ladies. They came-a servant accompanying them bearing presents-we rose, took our leave, and departed, well pleased with our visit.

On the second day from that on which we had visited the Pasha, he had arranged a great hunting party, to which we were invited. It was to take place in the neighbourhood of Dalia, the ancient Idalium, several miles south of Nicosia.

But the presents? asks some fair reader what presents did he send you in return for the scarf? His presents were glittering or useful rather than valuable. A necklace of minute pearls fell to the lot of the lady who had parted with her scarf. Two bracelets of silver filagree work were distributed between the other two; whilst we of the more unornamental sex divided between us an amber mouth-piece for the nargilla or Turkish pipe, a fez cap, and a Cyprian capote.

In the neighborhood of Dalia stands,

instead of flows, a rivulet with high embankments, half dried up the remainder being consumed in watering the mulberry trees which abound in the vicinity. Further on, thick woods, innocent of all cultivation, form the boundaries of extensive and well-kept preserves the Pasha's own. An extensive plain sloping southwards ends the scene of the day's exploits. The miserable village was the least important of all the various adjuncts of the scene. No one seemed to think for a moment that there was any such thing as a village, with human inhabitants, within ken.

Even in Cyprus, it would not be easy to discover a more utterly wretched looking place than the scene of the ancient Idalium. Not that ruins form its chief characteristic-no, its ruins are hid by the neighbouring brushwood, and are almost all buried beneath the earth. Its wretchedness results from the tumble-down aspect of the cottages, the filth and squalor, the utter hopelessness of its debased inhabitants, and yet anything more beautifully formed than some of the women and girls who occupied the fronts of the cabins, or sat on the ruined walls inspecting us, it would not be easy to discover anywhere.

The first operation of the hunt was to surround the plain with horsemen and dogs. The dogs, which accompanied us in great numbers, seemed to be of all breeds; some regular packs of hounds--the graceful, slim hound of the Levant-there were, with whole troops of curs, or curly or brown haired specimens of the half-cur, half-terrier species. All, however, seemed under some sort of discipline, and when the Pasha arrived in his coach and six, the whole plain appeared orderly and prepared for disciplined co-operation.

Having bestrode his charger, the Pasha and his suite, excellently mounted, came gallantly down towards that corner of the wood where we had posted ourselves. He observed us, asked us to accompany him, gallantly saluted a lady of our party who had ridden to the field, and then put spurs to his horse again, and away we went, at a rattling pace, circling the plain. What the use of this exhibition was, I could not discover. That it would do anything else but "blow" our horses uselessly

seemed to me unlikely, but in Cyprus one must do as they do in Cyprus, so there was no help for it. Away we went at a hand-gallop, Pasha, suite, Europeans, lady, and all, whilst the Cypriots cheered vehemently as we did so.

It was evidently all right-every one was in excellent humor with himself and everybody else, so we were fain to be content. On the hill which overlooked the village and plain were now collected several conveyances from Nicosia, containing ladies, the archbishop, several respectable elderly gentlemen on horseback, and a miscellaneous crowd of gazers on foot. A Pasha hunting was evidently a sight not witnessed every day in Cyprus. His highness, I was astonished to perceive, wore the same military uniform in which he had received us. The Turks in Cyprus evidently had original ideas in the hunting line.

At length our wild and bootless scamper came to a conclusion. The Pasha took up his station opposite the field, and took out his handkerchief to stem the tide that was coursing down from his temples, for he was a portly little man. Everybody followed his example.

A flourish of the shrill clarionettes used by the Turkish bands announced the commencement of the day's sport, and truly the scene at that moment was not one to be forgotten. The entire plain, with the exception of the wood, was surrounded by horsemen and dogs, soldiers, hunters, amateur sportsmen, and servants, their steeds as various as their uniforms. Behind the Pasha stretched his suite and our party, and a little band of mounted cavalry. On the distant hill stood carriages and groups of spectators, whilst from the wood emerged occasionally, in the intervals of the music, or what was intended as such, the hoarse shouts of the distant beaters and the baying of the dogs.

At length a well-trained pack of small hounds-half hound, half pointer, apparently-were let loose to scamper over the fields and through the low brushwood that filled the plain. All the rest of the dogs were kept in their places. The Pasha took his fowling-piece from the hands of an attendant; we followed his example, and simultaneously advanced.

This attack was directed solely against the birds. Numbers of heathcock, woodcocks, and partridges were started. We fired as well as we could on horseback, the dogs bringing in the game, and barking vociferously, whilst the attendants shouted frantically, almost demoniacally in fact. The cries of the birds, the barking of the dogs, the shouts of the attendants, the shrill clangor of the musical instruments behind us, the continual crack crack of the fowling-pieces, and the animating cheers from the distant hill were all sounds that spread over the valley and echoed from the mountains that skirted the horizon on the north. So miscellaneous was the firing, that I candidly confess I thought it would have been safer to have remained quietly in Nicosia that day-for the balls were whistling about in an eminently reckless sort of way, not by any means so safely as might have been desired. However, there was nothing for it but to persevere, and persevere we did, without injury, until the end.

This onslaught on the birds was but the prelude to the hunt properthe overture to the concert. An unearthly blast, wrung from the clarionettes at a signal from the Pasha, and shrilly invading the territories of our ears vi et armis, brought every one to a stand still. Fowling-pieces ceased to crack, the dogs ceased to bark, the people ceased to shout, even the horses partially ceased to neigh ; it was but the signal for the serious work of the day to begin-preliminary to which, however, grateful refreshments were handed about amongst the company surrounding the Pasha; fowling-pieces were exchanged for rifles, bottles of camandria were brought forth from secret hiding places, and all things prepared for a renewal of the attack, this time upon four-footed beasts and nobler prey than the poor innocent birds.

The signal given again by the Pasha, the shrill blasts sounded, and once more were heard the shouts of men, and the baying of hounds in the preserves and wood. We advanced at the same time, together with the guards stationed round the plain. Soon hares, jackals, and a diminutive species of deer began to straggle from the wood at intervals. Scared at the distant horsemen and

the shouts that greeted their appearance, they retreated again, to be driven forth once more by the beaters. The poor animals! Dogs and men behind urging them on- dogs and men and horses before, awaiting the signal to make an onslaught on them!

over.

It

It must not be supposed that the whole field was collected in a comparatively small space-far from it. The plain was extensive-its circumference, where guarded by the horsemen and dogs, probably not under two miles; but in the centre we rode prepared for action, whilst the beaters ever drew nearer and nearer. was the etiquette to let the Pasha bring down the first animal. It was an unfortunate hare. His highness was a very fair shot. The hare was at no great distance, and was rolled A skilful greyhound seized the animal in his mouth, fled with it to the Pasha, leaped on his saddlebow with a bound, delivered the hare to his highness, and then jumped down again. The whole was the work of an instant, but it was an interesting sight enough. And now all was confusion worse confounded in the plain. Hares, jackals and deer bounded forth, and back again in terror, pursued by dogs and horsemen. Had we been all armed with spears or lances, it would have been much better. The reckless way in which rifles were pointed, and balls fired was enough to drive a nervous man mad. I winced more than once when I found myself apparently exactly opposite a levelled rifle, ignorant whether it was loaded or not, uncertain but that, at that moment, its owner might be on the point of discharging it. How the poor beaters escaped is still a marvel to me. I doubt not they took good heed to keep under the shelter of friendly trees, exposing their persons as little as possible. Irrespective of the danger, however, the scene was a curious and an animated one. Dogs rushing about in a wild-beast sort of style, to pounce here upon a hare, there to aid another in pinning down a jackal, with every variety of bark and bay, whining, growling, and exulting by turns. Jackals uttered their short, sharp cries of fear, or anger, or pain, or despair; horses neighed and lashed their sides with their long tails, in