A Whirlwind.-Nothing could be more convenient or refreshing than this place; but in the night a change came over the spirit of our dream. Various appearances in the heavens had betokened a sudden alteration in the unusually hot weather. As we were retiring to rest, a whirlwind suddenly came down the ravine with such violence, as soon to make it evident that our large tent could not long stand up against it. The affair, indeed, was so sudden that lady F. had barely time to escape, and her maid was for some time buried in the ruin. One of our small tents was also blown down; and Dr. G., who was sleeping in it, suffered severely afterwards from the chill of the sudden exposure to a temperature of some sixty degrees less than that of Tiberias. Luckily but a few drops of rain accompanied this convulsion. Lady F. took refuge in a house in the village; and the loss of baggage was found in the morning limited to that of an old but only bonnet, long reserved for state occasions, which had been blown over three fields, and was found unfit for further service. After a hard day's journey, however, this interruption of repose was anything but refreshing. This rush of the mountain air into the rarified medium below lasted for about three quarters of an hour, after which it subsided into a chilly but moderate breeze. The villagers were kind and active in their hospitality. We were now to cross one of the highest ridges of Libanus, which rose directly above us. The positive news here first reached us of an extensive insurrection, and that the country we had just left, Rashya, and Hasbya itself were in open revolt. I was alarmed less from implicit belief in this or in any other report than on account of our muleteers, who I foresaw might leave us to return to their families at Rashya; as yet, however, they showed no symptom of such an intention. We climbed the ridge by a picturesque zigzag, amid some rain and mist, in less time than from the appearance I had expected. We had but one patch of snow of a few yards to cross; and however dangerous the sudden transition to such a climate, I enjoyed even the wet blast, which came like a breath from Scotland, and compelled me to coil my lowland plaid about me as though I were sporting in that country. I paid dearly afterwards for the luxury. We met one or two armed and mounted messengers as we advanced, and all the information we could collect confirmed the accounts of the insurrection. In the numerous large villages we passed, however, there was no unusual stir. The views we obtained from commanding points were very magnificent,-the ravines deep, and clothed with fine wood; but I have seen no scenery in Libanus which could bear comparison with that of European mountains. We passed the ruin of a very magnificent palace, formerly the residence of a Druse prince, who long divided the sovereignty of this country with the Emir Beschir, and at length fell in battle with his successful rival. Their neighbourhood was indeed too close for long endurance of simulated amity; for some two leagues further we found ourselves at the gate of Taak el Deen, the mountain palace of the Emir Beschir.

Taak el Deen.-Descriptions of this nest of the old eagle of Libanus are numerous; and M. de Lamartine could hardly in his poetic prose exaggerate the singularity of its fantastic features of position and construction. Its picturesque beauty is somewhat diminished by the rounded forms of the hills, which rise behind and above it. In ordinary times I apprehend that

a train of Frank travellers would hardly have been delayed at the Emir's gate; but on this occasion it was necessary to transmit our credentials to the Emir before it was opened to us, and some ten minutes elapsed. We were then admitted, and shown into a wing of the palace which is usually appropriated to travellers,—a small elevated court, with a circular fountain in the centre, into which open some half dozen rooms with unglazed and grated windows: these we soon furnished. We were informed that our dinner would be provided from the Emir's kitchen. It took some time to prepare, but when it arrived, both in quality and variety, gave us a very agreeable impression of Eastern cookery and hospitality. We found the temperature rather chilly, and one regular shower of rain fell before evening. I suspect that it was here, after enduring heat and fatigue without sensible inconvenience, I laid the foundation of an internal state of disease, which never left me till I escaped from a southern climate at Lyons. Our terrace commanded a view of the long outer court of the palace,—a busy scene of saddled and tethered horses, of messengers riding in and out, and occasionally small armed parties entered to swell the garrison. I suspect that the visit of an English party rather perplexed our entertainer at such a moment. He declined an interview for this evening; and I at one time had reason to think he intended to allow us to depart without one, which I should have regretted, but felt no claim to press for the honour. In the morning, however, he sent us an attendant to show us over the palace. Our cicerone was very proud of some rooms which had been for a long time in progress under the superinspection of some Damascus artists. They were prettily decorated, reminding one a little of the Alhambra; but not, I think, improved by some fresco paintings representing subjects of the chase, which were here considered the triumph of art: a double-barrelled gun was pointed out to me in particular as a chef-d'œuvre; and they were really not ill executed by some Landseer of Damascus. One of the oddest ornaments was the face of a large clock painted in the ceiling, with the name of a London maker on it. We were conducted afterwards to the bath, kitchen, and bakery. The bath was gorgeous; the kitchen, with sixteen cooks at work, much resembled the large vaulted monastic kitchens to be seen in our colleges; and in the bakery we found many men and boys, baking flat barley loaves for the consumption of some 2000 individuals.

We have already made allusion to the troubled state of the country which prevented Lord Francis from prosecuting his travels as intended, the Syrian disturbances being contemporaneous with his visit to Palestine. Our readers, therefore, cannot be but pleased to hear more of the Emir, and they will also follow with interest the philosophy of the passage:

We were now informed that his highness was prepared to give us an interview. We crossed a handsome inner court, and mounting a stair to a long gallery open to the court, found the Emir Beschir at one end-a venerable figure. The conversation was of no interest: the wily veteran was not likely to make us the depository of his intentions; which, for the present, were a subject of intense interest and busy speculation, the question probably being less whether it was in his power to raise, than to prevent, a general

insurrection. Whether he had any doubt or misgiving of our object as travellers in such a country at such a time, I cannot tell; very likely not. He was well enough acquainted with Englishmen to know our roving propensities, and could hardly imagine that spies or emissaries would travel with so many incumbrances. The subject of the insurrection was never mentioned.

As the venerable-looking old man sat quietly conversing on topics of trifling moment, our recollection was naturally called to the vicissitudes of his long life, soon about to close, perhaps as it had begun, in scenes of blood and danger, or in the exertion to the last of those powers of craft and intrigue which had saved him through many perils, and raised and retained him where we found him. Memory also reverted to many acts of cruelty and violence which deface the page of his history, and which may be collected from the pages of Burckhardt. Reccollections such as these create odd sensations in Europeans when brought into contact with the despots of the East-men of the sabre and the bowstring; and there are probably few travellers who have not felt such when in their presence. I do not mean sensations connected with the circumstance often noticed; that the life of the visitor himself depends upon a nod or other gesture of the cross-legged gentleman on the divan. "If I speak the word," says the Baillie to Rob Roy. 'Ay, but you'll never speak that word," replied his Highland cousin; and as matters stands in the countries of which I speak, there is as little chance of any violent proceeding on the part of Pacha or Emir. Neither, as it seems to me, is the interest of the same class and description as that which takes persons of figure and fashion to the cell or scaffold, and procures locks of hair and autographs from Greenacre or Courvoisier. With such we feel nothing in common; for we can no more imagine the circumstances which would lead ourselves to such acts of hazard as well as wickedness, than a sane and prosperous person can realize to himself the feelings of a lunatic or a suicide. In the case of the Eastern despot, sympathy is at work; and we may feel as if in his position our own exercise of power might, like his, have been bloody and capricious. Uncivilized by literature, the barbarian who sits before us has the advantage of his European visitors, in many outward particulars, in grace of attitude, richness of costume, and dignity of manners. He is generally in the latter a personification of mildness, gravity and good-humour. We ask ourselves, why should we not be able, like him, to leap at once the narrow boundary which separates this apparent placidity from the wildest excesses of violence and crime? May not the outward gloss of civilization and humanity adhere as loosely to the Englishman as the Turk? One answer of general application may be given-that we have been nurtured under the Christian dispensation, which embraces in its insensible influence even those who reject its evidences. And yet the time is not long gone by when, in the game of English politics, heads of the statesmen players were the stake. I really know, however, no other security against a sudden orientalization of our habits.

As we departed from the Emir's presence, we were pleased with the spectacle of the procession of two of his sons on their way to their morning visit to their father; which, I was told, they never omitted. There is something always agreeable in these acts of adult respect and attention to age; and I

rather fear we see less of them in England than not only in the East, but in France or elsewhere.

We have said and cited enough to prove that the present small volume is worthy of Lord Francis, and of a place in the library shelf, as well as on the drawing-room table.

ART. III.-Journal and Letters of Samuel Curwen, Judge of Admiralty, &c. Edited by GEORGE A. WARD. Wiley and Putnam. THIS Volume contains the Journal and Letters of Samuel Curwen, an American merchant and loyalist, of Salem, and a refugee in England from 1775 to 1784; "comprising remarks on the prominent men and manners of that period. To which are added Biographical Notices of many American Loyalists, and other eminent persons." Mr. Curwen was sixty years old when he quitted the rebellious colonies, to seek England for that liberty of opinion which the Independent party in his own country refused; a refusal not only by the Puritans of Massachusetts, but by the Friends of Pennsylvania, as he pretty soon discovered on removing to Philadelphia. He remained in exile for several years, and the book before us has been formed by Mr. Atkinson Ward,-"Member of the New York Historical Society, and Honorary Member of the Massachusetts Historical Society," from the diary and letters written in the interval. Curwen was sixty-nine when he went back to the triumphant young republic; returning to Salem, without, of course, resuming his judicial functions, where, however, he died unmolested, at the age of eighty-six.

Taken as a picture of the men and manners of an interesting class, at a most remarkable and excited period, the Journal and Letters were deserving of publication; although it be a book which is likely to be more appreciated and to inspire greater interest in England than in America, where it is published. Mr. Ward, indeed, appears to have shrewdly guessed as much, when he dedicated it to Lord Lyndhurst, the son of Curwen's friend and fellow-loyalist. To English readers the view here presented of the American loyalists is clearer and fuller than we have ever before obtained; while the revolutionary party, even after making due allowance for the Refugee's partialities and antipathies, appears to have been far from being entirely constituted of patriots and heroes. On the contrary, a large portion of the loudest and most strenuous of them must have been guided by the very reverse of pure and lofty motives-self-seekers and oppressors. And lastly, to note the uses of the book; it furnishes not only sketches by a fair and gentlemanly man of the London characters and scenes, but of life and country in various parts of the kingdom seventy years ago.

Mr. Curwen gives many proofs that he was an accomplished and respectable man, without, however, any very shining parts or profound views. Indeed, he and the other American refugees come out in an agreeable manner in these pages, evincing far more moderation than might have been looked for from persons in their condition. Tolerance and firmness appear to have been blended according to sound principles in the minds of most of these men. en. It may perhaps be objected to Curwen, that if his opinions did not vacillate with his fortunes, they were yet so much under the influence of circumstances, that he yielded when success crowned the treason; so that having all along held that it was impossible to conquer America by arms, there was no very strong or consistent reason for his not having sooner yielded and saved himself the trouble of seeking a temporary refuge in England. Still, this much may be advanced in his defence, -he was a lover of order and peace, and would, it seems, have preferred these even to the vanquishment of the republicans, or the supremacy of the mother country by mere dint of `arms, and an indefinite prolongation of the war; so that he might return to his native land and become an acquiescent citizen, when everything there was settling down in an amicable manner and was giving promise of serenity and prosperity, without compromising his principles. On the other hand, a stern inquirer into human motives might, perhaps, question the Refugee's honesty as well as his sagacity, and allege that the adhesion in this man's case was close and strong in proportion to its actual power and prospect of permanency; for his fears of the approaching downfall of Great Britain, and which gathered strength as the war proceeded, may have suggested measures of prudence on his part, so as to hasten a change of opinion, and moderate dislike.

Our own conviction is that Curwen was a man superior in very many respects to the public American character of the present day ;better educated; more courteous in manners; far less prejudiced and violent; and fully as honest as any of the living Transatlantic statesmen. But we can never allow that the Journal and Letters give evidence of one made of the stuff which builds up a martyr, nor even that he was a person of singularly lucid judgment. With more than an average amount of knowledge, he yet cannot be said to have been imbued with wisdom. Neither his politics nor his religion evinced a highly discriminating sense. Indeed, while professing Unitarian principles, he had most of the latitudinarian about him, being always ready to hear any attractive preacher, just as he was to visit all places of gay amusement.

As soon as Mr. Curwen sets foot upon English soil he begins his journal. A day afterwards he is in a London coffee-house; and thus actively did he move about, living at first upon the wreck of his fortune; and when this was all but exhausted, government granted him a donation of 100%., and a pension of 1007. a year. So long as NO. III. (1843) VOL. I.

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