pantaloon. How wonderful is it-how full of serious contemplation is the fact that the whole fabric of Mohammedanism should have been assailed, almost suddenly as well as simultaneously, by events which nothing human could have foreseen. Barbara, Egypt, Syria, the banks of the Euphrates and Tigris, the Red Sea, Constantinople, Asia Minor, Persia and Afghanistan, all more or less have felt the influence of European or anti-Mohammedan agencies. Perhaps the present generation may not see a new structure erected, but true it is they have seen its foundations laid.'

In 1838 appeared The Banished,' a novel, edited by Mr. Morier. The work is a translation from the German, a tale of the Swabian league in the sixteenth century. Mr. Morier died at Brighton.

The Barber of Bagdad.--From IIajji Baba.'

In the reign of the Caliph Haroun al Rashid, of happy memory, lived in the city of Bagdad a celebrated barber of the name of Ali Sakal. He was so famous for a steady hand, and dexterity in his profession, that he could shave a head and trim a beard and whiskers with his eyes blindfolded, without once drawing blood. There was not a man of any fashion at Bagdad who did not employ him; and such a run of business had he, that at length he became proud and insolent, and would scarcely ever touch a head whose master was not at least a Beg or an Aga. Wood for fuel was always scarce and dear at Bagdad; and, as his shop consumed a great deal, the wood-cutters brought their loads to him in preference, almost sure of meeting with a ready sale. It happened one day, that a poor wood-cutter, new in his profession, and ignorant of the character of Ali Sakal, went to his shop, and offered him for sale a load of wood, which he had just brought from a considerable distance in the cour.try, on his ass. Ali immediately offered him a price, making use of these words: For all the wood that was upon the ass.' The wood-cutter agreed, unloaded his beast, and asked for the money. You have not given me all the wood yet,' said the barber; I must have the pack-saddle (which is chiefly made of wood) into the bargain; that was our agreement' How!' said the other, in great amazement; who ever heard of such a bargain? It is impossible.' In short, after many words and much altercation, the overbearing barber seized the pack-saddle, wood and all, and sent away the poor peasant in great distress. He immediately ran to the cadi, and stated his griefs: the cadi was one of the barber's customers, and refused to hear the case. The wood-cutter went to a higher judge; he also patronised Ali Sakal, and made light of the complaint. The poor man then appealed to the mufti himself, who, having pondered over the question, at length settled, that it was too difficult a case for him to decide, no provision being made for it in the Koran; and therefore he must put up with his loss. The wood-cutter was not disheartened; but forthwith got a scribe to write a petition to the caliph himself, which he duly presented on Friday, the day when he went in state to the mosque. The caliph's punctuality in reading petitions was well known, and it was not long before the woodcutter was called to his presence. When he had approached the caliph, he kneeled and kissed the ground; and then placing his arms straight before him, his hands covered with the sleeves of his cloak, and his feet close together, he awaited the decision of his case. 'Friend,' said the caliph, the barber has words on his side-you have equity on yours. The law must be defined by words, and agreements must be made by words: the former must have its course, or it is nothing; and agreements must be kept, or there would be no faith between man and man; therefore the barber must keep all his wood '- Then calling the wood-cutter close to him, the caliph whispered something in his ear, which none but he could hear, and then sent him away quite satisfied.

The wood-cutter having made his obeisances, returned to his ass, which was tied without, took it by the halter, and proceeded to his home. A few days after, he ap plied to the barber, as if nothing had happened between them, requesting that he, and a companion of his from the country, might enjoy the dexterity of his hand; and the price at which both operations were to be performed was settled. When the

3 crown had been properly shorn, Ali Sakal asked where his companion just standing without here,' said the other, and he shall come in presordingly he went out, and returned, leading his ass after him by the s is my companion,' said he, and you must shave him.' 'Shave him!' e barber, in the greatest surprise; it is enough that I have consented yself by touching you, and do you insult me by asking me to do as ass? Away with you, or I'll send you both to Jehanum;' and forthem out of his shop.

-cutter immediately went to the caliph, was admitted to his presence, is case. 'Tis well,' said the commander of the faithful: bring Ali s razors to me this instant,' he exclaimed to one of his officers; and in ten minutes the barber stood before him. Why do you refuse to n's companion ?' said the caliph to the barber; was not that your Ali, kissing the ground, answered: 'Tis true, Oc liph, that such was t; but who ever made a companion of an ass before? or who ever t of treating it like a true believer ?' You may say right,' said the at the same time, who ever thought of insisting upon a pack-saddle ed in a load of wood? No, no, it is the wood-cutter's turn now. To the ely, or you know the consequences.' The barber was then obliged to at quantity of soap, to lather the beast from head to foot, and to shave esence of the caliph, and of the whole court, whilst he was jeered and e taunts and laughing of all the bystanders. The poor wood-cutter missed with an appropriate present of money, and all Bagdad resounded y, and celebrated the justice of the commander of the faithful.

JAMES BAILLIE FRASER.

AILLIE FRASER (1783-1856), like Mr. Morier, described the anners of the Persians by fictitious as well as true narra1828 he published 'The Kuzzilbash, a Tale of Khorasan,' nes, to which he afterwards added a continuation, under of The Persian Adventurer,' the title of his first work not rally understood: it was often taken, he says, for a cookery e term Kuzzilbash, which is Turkish, signifies Red-head, appellation originally given by Shah Ismael I. to seven d to defend their king. These tribes wore a red cap as a ing mark, which afterwards became the military heade Persian troops; hence the word Kuzzilbash is used to exrsian soldier; and often, particularly among the ToorkoDozbeks, is applied as a national designation to the people Mr. Fraser's hero relates his own adventures, which befrom his birth; for he is carried off while a child by a band nan robbers, who plunder his father's lands and village, Khorasan, on the borders of the great desert which om the banks of the Caspian Sea to those of the river e infant bravery of Ismael, the Kuzzilbash, interests Omer d of a tribe or camp of the plunderers, and he spares the keeps him to attend on his own son Selim. In the camp ter is a beautiful girl, daughter of a Persian captive; and oung beauty, 'lovely as a child of the Peris,' Ismael forms ent that increases with their years. These early scenes are ribed; and the misfortunes of the fair Shireen are related pathos. The consequences of Ismael's passion force him e assumes the dress of the Kuzzilbash, and crossing the

desert, joins the army of the victorious Nadir Shah, and assists in recovering the holy city of Mushed, the capital of Khorasan. His bravery is rewarded with honours and dignities; and after various scenes of love and war, the Kuzzilbash is united to his Shireen.

A brief but characteristic scene--a meeting of two warriors in the desert-is strikingly described, though the reader is impressed with the idea that European thoughts and expressions mingle too largely with the narrative:

Meeting of Eastern Warriors in the Desert.

By the time I reached the banks of this stream the sun had set, and it was neces sary to seek some retreat where I might pass the night and refresh myself and my horse without fear of discovery. Ascending the river-bed, therefore, with this intention, I soon found a recess where I could repose myself, surrounded by green pasture, in which my horse might feed; but as it would have been dangerous to let him go at large all night, I employed myself for a while in cutting the longest and thick, est of the grass which grew on the banks of the stream for his night's repast, permitting him to pasture at will, until dark; and securing him then close to the spot I meant to occupy, after a moderate meal, I commended myself to Allah, and lay down

to rest.

The loud neighing of my horse awoke me with a start, as the first light of dawn broke in the cast. Quickly springing on my feet, and grasping my spear and scimitar, which lay under my head. I looked around for the cause of alarm. Nor did it long remain doubtful; for, at the distance of scarce two hundred yards, I saw a single horsemen advancing. To tighten my girdle around my loins, to string my bow, and prepare two or three arrows for use, was but the work of a few moments; before these preparations, however, were completed, the stranger was close at hand. Fitting an arrow to my bow, I placed myself upon guard, and examined him narrowly as he approached. He was a man of goodly stature and powerful frame; his countenance hard, strongly marked, and furnished with a thick black beard, bore testimony of exposure to many a blast, but it still preserved a prepossessing expression of good-humour and benevolence. His turban, which was formed of a cashmere shawl, sorely tashed and torn, and twisted here and there with small steel chains, according to the fashion of the time, was wound around a red cloth cap that rose in four peaks high above the head. His oemah, or riding-coat, of crimson cloth, much stained and faded, opening at the bosom, shewed the links of a coat-of-mail which he wore below: a yellow shawl formed his girdle; his huge shulwars, or riding-trousers, of thick fawn-coloured Kerman woollen stuff, fell in folds over the large red leather boots in which his legs were cased; by his side hung a crooked scimitar in a black leather scabbard, and from the holsters of his saddle peeped out the butt-ends of a pair of pistols-weapons of which I then knew not the use, any more than of the matchlock which was slung at his back. He was mounted on a powerful but jaded horse, and appeared to have already travelled far.

Why,

When the striking figure had approached within thirty yards, I called out in the Turkish language, commonly used in the country: Whoever thou art, come no nearer on thy peril, or I shall salute thee with this arrow from my bow!' boy,' returned the stranger in a deep manly voice, and speaking in the same tongue, thou art a bold lad, truly! but set thy heat at rest, I mean thee no harm.' rejoined I, 'I am on foot, and alone. I know thee not, nor thy intentions. Either retire at once, or shew thy sincerity by setting thyself on equal terms with me: dismount from thy steed, and then I fear thee not, whatever be thy designs. Beware! And so saying I drew my arrow to the head, and pointed it towards him. By the head of my father!' cried the stranger, thou art an absolute youth! but I like thee well; thy heart is stout, and thy demand is just; the sheep trusts not the wolf when it meets him in the plain, nor do we acknowledge every stranger in the desert for s friend. See,' continued he, dismounting actively, yet with a weight that made the turf ring again-' see, I yield my advantage; as for thy arrows, boy, I fear them not.'

e slung a small shield, which he bore at his back, before him, as if to ce, in case of treachery on my part, and leaving his horse where it stood,

to me.

rom my youth to suspect and to guard against treachery, I still kept a the notions of the stranger. But there was something in his open ed countenance and manly bearing that claimed and won my confidence. ered my hand, and relaxed the still drawu string of my bow, as he strode n a firm, composed stop.

said he, had my intentions been hostile, it is not thy arrows or thy bow, sword and spear, that could have stood thee much in stead. I am too and too well defended against such weapons, to fear them from so young t I am neither enemy nor traitor to attack thee unawares. I have truring the past night, and mean to refresh myself awhile in this spot beed on my journey; thou meanest not,' added he with a smile, to deny a which Allah extends to all his creatures? What! still suspicious? I will increase thy advantage, and try to win thy confidence.' With ckled his sword and threw it, with his matchlock, upon the turf a little m. • See me now unarmed; wilt thou yet trust me?' Who could have rer? I threw down my bow and arrows: Pardon,' cried I, my tardy but he that has escaped with difficulty from many perils, fears even their e,' continued 1, are bread and salt, eat thou of them; thou art then my at sacred tie secures the faith of both.' The stranger, with another he offered food.

owing passage, describing the Kuzzilbash's return to his nae, affects us both by the view which it gives of the desoladin half-barbarous countries by war and rapine, and the rain of sentiment which the author puts into the mouth of

Desolation of War.

nued for some time longer, riding over a track once fertile and well cultiw returned to its original desolation. The wild pomegranate, the thorn, le. grew high in the fields, and overran the walls that formerly inclosed ngth we reached an open space, occupied by the ruins of a large walled ng which a square building, with walls of greater height, and towers at rose particularly conspicuous.

proached this place I felt my heart stirred within me, and my whole d with a secret and indescribable emotion; visions of past events ring dimly in my memory, but my sensations were too indistinct and too be intelligible to myself. At last a vague idea shot through my brain, like a fiery arrow in my heart; with burning cheeks and eager eyes ds my companion, and saw his own bent keenly upon me.

t thou this spot. young man?' said he, after a pause; if thy memory ve thee, cannot thy heart tell thee what walls are these?' I gasped for could not speak. 'Yes, Ismael,' continued he, 'these are the ruined father's house; there passed the first days of thy childhood; within that r thy eyes first saw the light! But its courts are now strewed with the st of thy kindred, and the foxes and wolves of the desert rear their g its roofless chambers. These are the acts of that tribe to which thou been in bondage-such is the debt of blood which cries out for thy venmy horse to gaze on the scene of my infant years, and my companion ng to indulge me. Is it indeed true, as some sages have taught, that ingel hovers over the place of his birth, and dwells with peculiar fondnnocent days of his childhood, and that in after-years of sorrow and of urs the recollection of those pure and peaceful days like balm over the en and improve it by their influence? How could it be, without some his, that, gazing thus unexpectedly on the desolate home of my fathers, passions, the bustle, and the misery of later years. vanished from my dream; and the scenes and feelings of my childhood came fresh as

yesterday to my remembrance? I heard the joyous clamour of my little brothers and sisters; our games, our quarrels, and our reconciliations, were once more present to me; the grave smile of my father, the kind but eternal gabble of my good old nurse; and, above all, the mild sweet voice of my beloved mother, as she adjusted our little disputes, or soothed our childish sorrows-all rushed upon my mind, and for a while quite overpowered me; I covered my face with my hands and wept in silence.

Besides his Eastern tales, Mr. Fraser wrote a story of his native country, The Highland Smugglers,' in which he displays the same talent for description, with much inferior powers in constructing a probable or interesting narrative. He died at his seat, Moniack, in Inverness-shire, a picturesque Highland spot.

THEODORE EDWARD HOOK.

THEODORE EDWARD HOOK, a fashionable and copious novelist, was born in London, September 22, 1788. He was the son of a distinguished musical composer; and at the early age of sixteen-after an imperfect course of education at Harrow School-he became a sort of partner in his father's business of music and song. In 1805 he composed a comic opera, 'The Soldier's Return,' the overture and music, as well as the dialogues and songs, entirely by himself. The opera was highly successful, and young Theodore was ready next year with another after-piece, Catch Him Who Can,' which exhibited the talents of Liston and Mathews in a popular and effective light, and had a great run of success. Several musical operas were then produced in rapid succession by Hook, as 'The Invisible Girl,' 'Music Mad,' 'Darkness Visible,' Trial by Jury,' 'The Fortress,' "Tekeli,' Exchange no Robbery,' and 'Killing no Murder.' Some of these still keep possession of the stage, and evince wonderful knowledge of dramatic art, musical skill, and literary powers in so young an author. They were followed (1808) by a novel which has been described as a mere farce in a narrative shape. The remarkable conversational talents of Theodore Hook, and his popularity as a writer for the stage, led him much into society. Flushed with success, full of the gaiety and impetuosity of youth, and conscious of his power to please and even fascinate in company, he surrendered himself up to the enjoyment of the passing hour, and became noted for his boisterous buffooneries,' his wild sallies of wit and drollery, and his practical hoaxes.

Amongst his various talents was one which, though familiar in some other countries, whose language affords it facilities, has hitherto been rare, if not unknown in ours-namely, the power of improvisatising, or extemporaneous composition of songs and music. Hook would at table turn the whole conversation of the evening into a song, sparkling with puns or witty allusions, and perfect in its rhymes. "He accompanied himself,' says Lockhart, in the Quarterly Review,' 'on the pianoforte, and the music was frequently, though not always, 28 new as the verse. He usually stuck to the common ballad