of the case, into which dirty linen is usually thrust, observed the letter, with another enclosed in it, sticking to the top by the sealing wax, which, being red English sealing wax, had melted in the hot climate of Syria. The following is a copy of this letter, and Mr. Buckingham has abundant reason to be grateful for its preservation.

Letter addressed thus, J. Buckingham, Esq. to be sent forward should he be on his way to Baalbec,' dated Damascus, April 12, 1816.

MY DEAR SIR,-Since I knew nothing of your illness until now, when I hope it is quite at an end, I can only rejoice in your recovery. At the same time, I am afraid that the same wintry weather which has distressed me very much in the Hauran, must have made your passage across the mountains very disagreeable, if not dangerous. I have to regret that my letter from Sunnymene never reached you, as I there detailed to you my plans, and mentioned that I WISHED OUR MEETING to take place a few days later than that which we had fixed on together. None can be better than about the 19th or 20th.

At

(1) is a temple of the Antonines, there is another excellent specimen in a ruined village called (2), near the road from Shibley's village (3) to Bostra. But even this difficulty was removed by the sight of those at (Nedjeran) Madgdal (4), which have set the matter past a doubt.

I do not know whether in the hasty view you took of Salkhud you examined the town you would, I think, have observed that the houses there are apparently of a less remote antiquity, and of a worse construction than usual, and the mosque entirely of Saracen work, with small niches in the minaret. By the bye, FROM THE DESCRIPTION IN YOUR NOTES of the fortress of Adjeloon, I am almost persuaded, that that also is Saracen work. Bostra, you will remember, has the rustic masonry all over it, and instances of the fan or shell niches are without number; though I know you are of a different opinion, AND I WILL NOT VENTURE TO SET MINE AGAINST IT.

I have been very careful and exact in my drawings, which are in great number, and I DO NOT THINK YOU WILL BE ASHAMED OF HAVING YOUR NAME ASSOCIATED TO WHAT I MAY ONE DAY OR ANOTHER THROW TOGETHER INTO FORM. Do me the favour to keep this letter, not for your use, but my own; YOU KNOW HOW INDOLENT I AM ABOUT WRITING, and I have thrown here many things upon paper, which I may perhaps NEVER do again. I shall set off the day after to-morrow for Banias, and so make my way to Baalbec, WHERE I HOPE TO JOIN YOU about the 19th or 20th. Faithfully your's,

WM. JOHN BANKES.

(1) (2) (3) (4) These three instances of names being forgotten altogether, and one first written wrongly, and subsequently corrected by another being written over it, are selected as proofs that the writer of the letter, Mr. Bankes, did not take notes on the spot, in his tour; because, if he had done so, such omissions and mistakes in such important points as names of towns, could not have occurred.-Note by MR. BUCKINGHAM.

The accusations depend upon the testimony of Mr. W. Bankes, and it is odd enough that great part of the defence should rest upon the same foundation. In this letter we find Mr. Bankes addressing Mr. Buckingham as one perfectly independent of him, deferring to his judgment in a matter of architecture, alluding to his notes, and talking in language of humility concerning the mention he proposed to make of his companion in some future publication of his travels. Here is a

decided confession that he was indolent in writing; and in order to supply the deficiency, he does not demand the notes which Mr. Buckingham had taken by agreement from his mouth in a journey, the expences of which were defrayed by him, but on the contrary, requests the favour that his letter may be preserved, lest he should never have industry to rewrite its contents. The letter which was found in the interior of the letter already quoted, likewise goes to confirm the impression made by the other, though it does not contain any expression so much to the point.

Letter addressed thus," Al Senor Buckingham, Caballero Yngles, en el Conbento de la Terra Santa, Damasco," dated Acra, Feb. 28, 1816.

My dear Sir,―There is some fatality about my travelling engagements, I never made one in my life but circumstances turned out so as to prevent my fulfilling it. Another letter from Seyde, and above all the radical change in the weather, determined me upon deferring my scrambling expedition to the Hauran, and turning at once upon the coast. I did not, however, give up the idea of JOINING YOU at once, but made an attempt from St. Hoor (where that excellent man Hadjee Hamet entertained me with the same hospitality, and almost affection, which you had described to me). Beisan, which is the ancient Scythopolis, is within a day's journey, and in the same jurisdiction; it lies in the plain of the Jordan; and is within a long day of Salt. I resolved to go to Beisan, and so MAKE MY WAY TO YOU, if I could find any body to carry me. When I came, I found that nobody would undertake it; for but the day before (my good fortune always brings me a day before or a day after such adventures) the Bedouins had completely pillaged and stripped a party of merchants from Damascus, within two hours of the village, so there was an end of that scheme.

I am at a great loss to know what I ought to do with the baggage which you left in Antonio's charge, I cannot trust it alone to Damascus, and yet am afraid that you will feel embarrassed without it on your arrival there. As I reckon that you will pass from thence across to Seyde, I shall take it with me so far, and leave it in Lady Hester Stanhope's charge. As you have no visits of ceremony to make at Damascus, perhaps you may continue your Bedouin habit, during your short stay there, without inconvenience (and I am disposed to hope that your stay will be as short as possible). I shall remain with Lady Hester Stanhope about five days, and if I do not turn round for Damascus, which will depend a good deal upon her advice and upon circumstances, I shall make my way pretty direct for Aleppo, lengthening out my road by excursions, however, here and there, to give you time to come up to me, so that I trust that at the latest we may meet in Aleppo, and make our journey to Palmyra together.

Believe me, my dear Sir, most faithfully yours,

WM. JOHN BANKES. Besides these letters, there are a multitude of other arguments in Mr. Buckingham's favour. As soon as he received Mr. Bankes's abusive letter in India, he sent over to his friend and former fellow traveller in a journey from Bombay to Suez, Mr. Babington, a letter, and a great number of documents which most men will consider to form together a triumphant defence. He reminds his friend of his former diligence and activity in taking notes, under circumstances at which his friend used to express his surprise. He appeals to him respecting the punctuality and accuracy with which he kept their joint accounts in their former journey together; and refers to his Syrian note-book, authenticated by a notary,

and sent with the letter, in which a memorandum is entered of his having paid his half of the whole expenses of the journey, which amounted only to one hundred and eight piastres altogether, which at that time was equivalent only to two guineas and a half. For it must be observed, that this journey, in company with Mr. Bankes, from Jerusalem to Nazareth, by the ruins of Djerash, about which all this uproar is made by Mr. Bankes, took less than SEVEN DAYs, and that these expenses which Mr. Bankes claims to have paid, and which he pretends entitle him to the fruit of Mr. Buckingham's labours, amounted only to TWO GUINEAS AND a HALF-half of which, according to Mr. Buckingham's note-book, certified by a notary and eight of the principal gentlemen and merchants in Calcutta, on the receipt of the accusation in the Quarterly Review, to bear every appearance of an original note-book, was paid by that gentleman, and not one-fifth, as ought to have been the case. For Mr. Bankes stood in need of an interpreter, and two Bedouin Arabs, who made four; whereas Mr. Buckingham was alone. Mr. Buckingham acknowledges that he did trace the ground plan of the city of Djerash, in the window of the convent of Nazareth, and alleges that he was well entitled so to do, because he collected all the materials for making it ; by measuring the buildings, and taking the bearings of the principal points of it under circumstances of great haste, and necessity for caution, in the midst of a storm of rain, while Mr. Bankes was snugly seated under shelter, and out of sight among the ruins, making a drawing of the place a copy of which drawing Mr. Buckingham says he was likewise promised as his due share by Mr. Bankes, but never received. These measurements were not made with Mr. Bankes's compass (with my compass as he says, as if that were any thing), but with his own; and as a proof Mr. Buckingham forwards the compass to his friend Mr. Babington, that he may recognise it as the compass he had with him in their former travels together, and which he had preserved through all difficulties to that hour. This ground plan, which Mr. Buckingham traced at Nazareth, turns out, however, not to be the one he used for the travels which Mr. Bankes claims as his, but from another much superior one made by Mr. Buckingham, in a subsequent visit to Djerash, under more favourable circumstances, when he had leisure and opportunity to take fresh and more accurate measurements. Of this subsequent visit Mr. Bankes must have known, but it appears to have been convenient to pretend ignorance of it. It does not indeed appear that this gentleman. knew very well what he was claiming. He no sooner saw the travels of his companion announced, than he immediately declares that it is all his, whatever it may be; either he has bought it and paid for it, or it was originally his, and the other was paid for taking it down from his mouth; or else he had given it to him, and now wants it back; or, lastly, that his companion had stolen it from him without his knowledge. For his accusations are susceptible of every form, and possessing all the advan tages of latitude and vagueness.

We have been induced to pay some little attention to this affair, from finding that it was one much canvassed among those who have a personal interest in it, the Electors of the University of Cambridge, and because we found it pretty generally the subject of conversation in the literary circles of the metropolis, where we heard expressions of indignation and contempt lavished upon one of the parties in so bountiful a manner, that we were induced to look into their foundation. We accordingly examined the evidence in the most impartial manner; and, if we have not stated it thoroughly so, it is because we yielded to the influence of a conviction it is scarcely possible to resist. Let Mr. Bankes, however, be heard. We confess, however, we do not see how any thing he or any man can say will be able to rebut the force of his own letter.

About one part of the business there can be no doubt; the culpablenay, we may use a harsher expression, and say, the atrocious conduct of the Quarterly. This is one of the numerous instances of bitter and cruel injustice which are upon the head of that review. Assuming the character of a judge, it has frequently played the part of a malignant witness; and it is extraordinary enough, that much of the credit which it has gained with the public is owing to this shameful dereliction of its duty. For, listening to the interested communications of concealed enemies, it gives itself the air of having access to superior information. The statements of an author are pronounced false, because they (the Reviewers) are oracular; his conduct and character are arraigned, because they happen to know his practices; his literary acquirements are depreciated and run down, because they have reason to expect that a much abler work is forthcoming from much purer hands. The public are deceived, and look up to the journal which appears to enjoy such opportunities of observation, and which on every topic of the kind makes such an extensive display of private information. They are not sharp-sighted enough to detect the hand of the assassin under the robe of the judge. The point of his language is taken for the keenness of his wit, instead of the bitterness of his hatred. The rancour of his expression is conceived to arise from virtuous indignation against imposture and pretension, instead of being, as it generally is, the abuse of an angry rival.

THE OPERA.

THE repairs of the King's Theatre having been completed, it opened on the 12th with Don Giovanni, and the persons interested in the concern take infinite pains to persuade us that this is to be considered as the true commencement of the opera season; whence we infer that they are not particularly proud of the performances at the Little Theatre-the public, on the other hand, are as little pleased with those at the great house. In fact, after almost every opera, we have heard nothing but murmurs of disapprobation from all sides (the regular claqueurs excepted, who applaud every thing, manibus pedibusque, so long as they can keep

their eyes open); even the loungers in Fop's Alley have been heard to express their discontent, and it must be a strong provocation indeed which can rouse these listless gentlemen from their fashionable apathy. "What does Madame Vestris do here?" is the question of every one ; Garcia, it is discovered, has lost much of his voice. Porto is regarded as an absolute horror; of Remorini, people, do not know how, think he has lost reputation by his Barbiere ; in Madame Ronzi de Begnis, indeed, it is universally acknowledged that we have a charming artiste, who always delights, and her husband is an excellent buffo; but what are two good performers amongst so many non-effectives? But we have omitted to notice an addition that has lately been made to the strength of the company in the person of Madame Castelli, a lady well known, and deservedly esteemed as a private concert singer, but who possesses no one qualification for the opera stage. The necessities of the King's Theatre have made her an actress, and charity forbids us to examine her fitness for the service into which she has been pressed, as we believe, merely for the occasion. The truth is, that, as the proposer of a new Italian Opera establishment remarks, the present company has been collected not selected; it is a hasty levy, en masse, of such performers as happened to be disengaged. Very sufficient excuses may be offered for this circumstance, but we merely state the fact; and if the affairs of the King's Theatre will not allow of its conductors making the necessary arrangements for the amusement of the public, surely there are fair grounds for requiring the formation of another establishment. The house opened, as we have said, with Don Giovanni. Beautiful as the music of this

opera is, it has been of late so hacknied, that at present it palls on the ear; and certainly there was nothing in the performance of it on this occasion by any means calculated to give fresh spirit or interest to its too familiar charms. Madame Vestris played Zerlina; in singing she was unequal to the part, but in smiling she far exceeded it. No men like to see fine teeth more than we do, but a lady should not show her teeth to the public as she would show them to a dentist-a discovery every now and then of these beauties is very delightful, but an incessant exhibition of them destroys the effect.

Garcia's Giovanni went off very languidly, though, whenever an opportunity offered, he endeavoured to inspirit it by a boisterous rant, which was always unspeakably acceptable to the gallery, and never failed to elicit the vehement approbation of those persons who clap for their orders. He gave little effect to his songs, and does not play the part so well as Ambroghetti did, whom it has been the fashion to abuse in this character as vulgar; were we called upon to decide between the two, we should say that Garcia's personation of the Don was the more vulgar, and it is decidedly the less spirited performance. Madame Castelli appeared for the first time as Donna Elvira, the wife, and certainly she presented Giovanni's apology—we could not marvel at his infidelities. Porto was the Mazetto. Reader, figure to thy mind's eye this tun of a man capering about with Zerlina, and singing a song of joy