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LIFE IN THE EAST.-NO. I.

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BY MICHAEL J. QUIN, AUTHOR OF A STEAM VOYAGE DOWN

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UNTIL I travelled in Turkey, I think I never really knew the degree which woman holds on the scale of the creation. In the towns, in the villages, in the hamlets, in the fields, on the rivers, in the depths of the forest, or on the open plains, I beheld, day after day, only the face of man. Now and then, at a cottage door, I espied from a distance the white veil, which denoted the presence of a female. But the moment my horse was seen approaching the sacred spot-for sacred it then seemed to me-away fled the sweet vision, and in its place appeared the frowning turbaned forehead of my own sex, or perhaps a ferocious dog, preparing to devour me if I should venture too near the domain entrusted to his charge.

I was positively sick of the face of man. His swarthy countenancehis strong beard-his glaring eye-his brawny, muscular hand-his thick beshawled waist, with pistols and ataghan stuck therein-his long pipe-his longer cane-his clumsy slippered foot-became offensive to my eye. I longed to behold once more the roseate cheekthe soft look-the ruby lip-the tapering fingers of some descendant of Eve. Nor in the vale-nor by the fountain-nor in the vineyard-nor on the hill-nor amidst the herds or groves, was she. 'Twas man everywhere.

Often on my ear came the tinkle of the sheep or goat bell. Assuredly upon the declivity, where the animals wandered in search of herbage, there must be a shepherdess, thought I; and up the declivity I rode, to botanize, as I told my guide, but in fact to appease the yearning of my soul by catching a glimpse-were it only for an instant-of the maiden, haply sleeping beneath the shadow of a rock, or a clump of brushwood, whose gentle voice, or oaten pipe, held them under control. I cared not for costume: be her figure wrapped in the undyed lamb-skin, the winter-stained blanket, or the shreds of what once served as a mantle for her sire-it signified but little, or rather nothing to me, provided I could detect through her disguise the bashful gaze of the feminine race. But disappointment still was my portion. Rumpled up in a rude canvass bag, or the hide of a rhinoceros, or something of that kind, appeared a little savage, half monkey, half Robinson Crusoe, fast asleep, his wallet (slenderly stored!) beneath his shaggy head, and a poor imitation of the pastoral crook by his side. Frankenstein was not half so tired of his troublesome creation as I was of masculine nuisances, with whose origin I had nothing whatever to do.

At night we came late to what would be called in France an auberge, in the midst of a small clustre of houses. Beds were to be prepared, supper was to be cooked, for I protested against going to rest upon a thimble-full of coffee, having had a long day's ride, and no dinner, unless that name may be applied to a crust of bread, an onion, three hard eggs, and a handful of rock salt. I insisted upon the best supper the house could produce. We were, as usual, received by a man, who proceeded forthwith to blow up the embers on his hearth, and to get his coffee apparatus in order. But I was not to be put off in this way. He pleaded that his family were all in bed. No matter-I was starved Nov.-VOL. LI. NO. CCIII.

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-supper-and a good supper-chicken-mutton-rice-and hot cake -I must have.

Upon examining my conscience, as all good Christians do, or ought to do, by the light of the vesper star, which I went to look at, while my orders were in process of negotiation between the innkeeper and my guide, I was obliged to confess to myself, that though a good supper would be by no means disagreeable, yet the uppermost motive in my pressing for a hot supper, was the hope of attracting to what I supposed to be the culinary department, the women of the family-the greater and minor "lights of the harem." I did, in reality, behold the light of more than one candle moving backward and forward behind the latticed windows of the upper story of the edifice, and when within, I heard several light footsteps moving rapidly overhead. Now they are awake, thought I, and dressing and veiling, and down they must come presently with their stewpans and dishes, and all the produce of their larder. They would doubtless conceal their faces as much as possible; but they could not cover their eyes, and even if they should, still the sylph-like figure would be there, the low, gentle voice might yield its music, the hand that would knead the flour, or turn the cake on the hearth, could not be gloved!

Alas! while I was still indulging in these poetical reveries, in came, on a man's head, a large wooden tray, and upon the said tray, when deposited on the earthen floor, appeared, to my amazement—I will not say to my horror, for, after all, the odour emanating therefrom was not ungrateful to the senses of a weary traveller,-a hot cake, a wooden bowl filled with stewed partridge, onions, and rice; whereupon mine host brought a jar and a napkin, and pouring some water upon my hands, and presenting me with the napkin with a look of hospitable cordiality not unworthy of the Patriarchal days, he invited me to partake of the meal thus magically placed at my feet. The footsteps ceased overhead, silence reigned throughout the house; I could not even guess whether there was a female being in the man's establishment, and so I proceeded to despatch the partridge-convinced that the last plague must have swept away all the women from that part of the Ottoman dominions.

Now let no sly reader of either sex get up in his, or her mental manufactory of scandal any thing in the shape of a suspicion against my character. Know ye, ancient maidens, club-frequenting bachelors, and giggling consumers of bread and butter, still in your teens or tys, that I am a Benedict; and so faithful, so scrupulous in the fulfilment of the vows I have made, that if Nourmahal herself had fallen in my way, and flinging off her veil, surrendered the roses of her lips to my discretion, I should not have so far forgotten the lone one I had left at home, as even to inhale their fragrance. Not I! Putting aside the misprision of domestic treason that would be involved in such a transaction, I really am a philosopher. The feeling by which I was actuated had nothing in it of the meaner ingredients, of which Lesbia of "the beaming eye,' and all that sort of people are composed. Mine was a pure Platonic search after that description of harmony, which is produced by the blending of various colours, or diversified, or even contrasted sounds. Man, man everywhere, is a garden without a flower-a sound without a modulation. The light of woman's eyes is necessary to make him look

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without whose rays all nature would go back

tolerable: she is the sun,
to the age of the Ichthyosauri.

It certainly must have been a glorious day, that on which this planet of ours first felt itself pressed by the foot of man. Imagine this sphere rolling for thousands of years, thousands, perhaps, of centuries, through the orbit which it still occupies-bearing on its surface not so much as one reasoning creature-the abode of fishes-of monsters that roamed about like walking castles, living on the topmost branches of trees, treading down forests in their progress, and drinking up Mediterraneans at a draught; and in their train nothing but hyænas and leopards, dogs and reptiles, and winged bipeds of every order and degree. At length, an upward-looking, erect, graceful, intelligent form lights upon the green turf from some other orb-his countenance shining with a divine light, at once subdues them to his command-they pass in review before him he gives them names-and from that moment a new order of things commences over the whole of their ancient habitation. How different that splendid morning from the Dies Ira still to come!

But he was alone. I can thoroughly enter into his feelings when, seated beneath the shade of a spreading cedar, he gazed upon the Eden around him—just before he slept-and though full of joy while surveying the charming scenes that met his eye on every side, and listening to the enchanting melodies of waving groves, and feathered choirs, and falling waters that were soothing him to slumber, he still was conscious of a void in his heart remaining to be filled up. And when, upon reopening his eyes, after his first delicious repose, he saw standing beside him EVE-Oh, the transports of that moment were worth exile even from that garden of bliss!

Why it is that in the region where woman had her origin, she is still very generally and very carefully veiled and secluded from the ordinary haunts of the stronger sex, is a question that I have not yet seen satisfactorily solved. The custom has undoubtedly been transmitted from the most remote ages. When Rebecca first beheld Isaac " meditating in the fields at even-tide," and she learned who he was, it is said that "she took a veil and covered herself." It is clear from many passages in the Scriptures that the women of the family were usually to be found, in the times to which those writings apply, chiefly in the inner apartments of the house. The beautiful pictures of domestic employment with which the Odyssey abounds, show that similar usages prevailed amongst the earlier Greeks-usages which have not even in our time been wholly abolished among their posterity. The Hindoos, whether idolaters or Mahometans, the Persians, the Armenians, the Turks, all observe, especially the latter, the same law. They all imprison, some say enshrine, their wives and concubines (or as Miss Pardoe calls them, odaliques) and daughters, so that the custom has not originated, as many persons suppose, in the precepts of the Koran, but in a course of practice which appears to have been common to almost all the Eastern nations.

To an European making his first tour in those countries, nothing, however, can be more dismal than the absence of the female form from every group of his own species which he happens to meet in the course of his journey. In Bulgaria, where there is a considerable sprinkling of Christian families amongst the followers of the Prophet, the women

who belong to the Cross appear to enjoy more liberty than I have observed elsewhere in those countries. They go about, as in England, often in their hair, sometimes with handkerchiefs tied round their heads, but uniformly unveiled. In order, however, to signify that they have a right to these privileges,-privileges secured to them, by the way, through the interference of Russia,-they are obliged to wear conspicuously on the left shoulder, or breast, a red cross, which is usually worked in silk or worsted upon their dress. The sacred emblem has a most agreeable effect. It puts one in mind of the days of the Crusaders; it marks the civilising power of the Christian system of religion. Seen from a distance, it seems to one emerging from towns and districts wholly Mahometan, to restore nature to its usual order, and to bring back to the heart that cheerfulness of which the virile monotony of Turkish usages had for a season deprived it.

It was upon encountering at a fountain, or engaged in some out-ofdoor business or amusement, groups of these Bulgarian maidens, that I felt what a vacancy there would have been in the order of creation had it been altogether womanless. A world wholly filled with men might have been rendered by Omnipotence as conducive to his purposes, as one distributed between the two sexes-creation following the law which gave birth to the original type of the race. But what a world that would have been!-if we may judge from our present notions. We should have been without all that delicious tenderness which springs from the contemplation, the protection of infant loveliness and weakness. We should have been without that ennobling, enrapturing sentiment that electric chain which binds two souls together, identifying their hopes, their sorrows-lighting kindred smiles-summoning to the cheek tears that unite two hearts even more closely than smiles. Poetry, that gushing of the soul into music, would have been unknown to us. Music itself would have been undiscovered, and we should not have understood the

boundless store

Of charms which Nature to her votary yields;
The warbling woodland, the resounding shore,
The pomp of groves and garniture of fields:
All that the genial ray of morning gilds,
And all that echoes to the song of even,

All that the mountain's sheltering bosom shields,
And all the dread magnificence of heaven!"

On arriving at Constantinople I found that a greater relaxation had taken place in the system of feminine seclusion than I had been prepared to expect. Although the numbers of males in the streets greatly preponderated over those of the softer sex, nevertheless the latter were to be seen moving about in every direction, all, however, more or less closely veiled. An English lady understands by the term "veiled" a square yard or two of fine muslin or lace thrown over the head, and hanging down upon the bosom and back, through which the countenance may still be discerned, as the sun behind a gossamer cloud. Such is the fashion in Spain-and a veil of that kind is undoubtedly a modification, a coquettish apology, for the austerity of the garb introduced into that country by the Moors. But the Turkish veil is very much the same as that which is worn by females dedicated to religious orders. It is, in

fact, a lawn scarf bound closely round the forehead, which ought to cover the eyebrows, the chin, and mouth, the main object of it being the concealment of the features from man's admiration as much as possible, but which in practice is so contrived, as to provoke the said admiration to a higher degree than the said countenance unveiled would, perhaps, in nine cases out of twelve have ever excited.

The veil as worn in Constantinople-the very metropolis of female ingenuity in the art of setting off personal charms-is so disposed as to permit the dark crescent of the eyebrow, upon which a world of handmaid diligence is bestowed, to be seen in its most perfect outline. Miss Pardoe tells us, for she can keep no secrets, that the crescent of which I speak is frequently improved by certain chemical applications, which have the effect of making an eyebrow of sixty years' growth look as juvenile as one of sixteen. My gallantry refuses to receive any such disclosure as this. Besides, the authority of such a witness may be questioned, upon the ground of self-interest. Miss Pardoe doubtless has eyebrows of her own; hence her promptitude to bear testimony against the almost universal superiority, which those features assume in the land of veils over similar sentinels of the eyes in countries where the veil is unknown.

Certain it is that by the arch manner in which the upper part of the lawn covering is arranged, both eyes and eyebrows, aye, and even foreheads, are often rendered peculiarly prepossessing. The portion of the said garb which shows itself beneath the mouth would seem also-most unintentionally, no doubt-to be very generally so folded as to display the mouth in its most winning poutfulness, if I may dare to follow Miss Pardoe's example in inventing new phrases. And as to the cheeks, most of those upon which it was my lot to set mine eyes in the City of the Sultan, exhibited delicate roseate hues, and with the other visible portions of the face, exquisite oval outlines, such as I have seen in no other part of the world. My conscience !—had I not been a Benedict, and a philosopher!

Here again Miss Pardoe peaches-betrays the secrets of the harem. She has the courage to tell us that the Turkish ladies all paint. Paint! That is a strong expression. A sign-board is said to be painted; so is a portrait, or a landscape; but to say that the Turkish élégantes paint in any such a sense as that, is a libel on their natural charms. If of a cold morning-and Stamboul has its frosty matins as well as Londona lady sitting at her toilet should think that, by reason of the temIerature of the atmosphere, the lily of her cheek somewhat predominates over the rose, I see no harm in her correcting the severity of the scason by reviving, through the medium of a little elixir, or a talismanic camel-haired pencil, a memorial or two of the late summer. But to call that "painting," is manifestly an abuse of the English language, and particularly of her Majesty the Queen's English language, which is a dialect that permits no such freedoms.

Again, if that mysterious, jealous, inexorable being, whom the poets call Time, should penetrate a lady's chamber, and having once found his way there, repeat his visits rather oftener than the fair inhabitant would desire, so as to disturb her peace of mind, and defraud her check of the lustre which mental happiness was wont to diffuse over it, I know of no law which should prevent her from showing the intruder the door

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