worthy captain's; so I would rather go quite at liberty than under any obligation.

"So scrupulous a conscience," said Don Diego, "were fitter for a monk than for a soldier: but no matter; we are already acquainted."

They reached Antequera that night; and in a few days, by forced marches, they arrived where the company was; which, being now completed, was begin ning to march towards Carthagena, being billeted, together with four others, in such places as lay most conveniently on its route.

Then Tomas had an opportunity of observing all the bustle and disorder attendant on the marching of troops in general, and in particular of Spanish troops at that day, the regularity of whose discipline at such times was any thing but exemplary. He remarked the authoritative airs of the commissaries, the unaccommodating temper of some of the officers, the anxiety of the quartermasters, and the bustle and calculation of the paymasters; the complaints of the people, the insolence of the recruits, the quarrels with the innkeepers, the solicitations for more than the necessary baggage, and finally the seemingly unavoidable necessity, on such occasions, of all those evils which he felt himself so much inclined to deplore.

Tomas had laid aside the habit of a student, and dressed himself "as gay as a parrot," an expression which, applied to the dress of the most foppish Englishman of the present day, would scarcely seem appropriate, but which is perfectly applicable to the variety of brilliant colours which a Spanish exquisite might then, and may still display in his own country, so different from the dingy uniformity of our English costumes, better adapted indeed to bear the action of our variable atmosphere. Together with his modest garb of a student, Tomas endeavoured, with pretty good success, to disrobe himself of the bashfulness of a collegian new to the world, and instead of

Not a word speaking more than there was need, and

Riding as still and coy as doth a maid, When newly spoused, sitting at the board. he strove to look "as fresh as is the month of May," and to bear him like

A lover and a lusty bachelor.

He had abandoned

Aristotle and his philosophy,

scarcely yet expired in the colleges of Spain; and all his moveable library consisted in a book of devotions to Our Lady, deposited in one of his pockets, and balanced by a collection of the works of Garcilaso, at that time the great amatory poet of Spain, which he carried in the other :-and although love towards women was then in Spain a kind of carnal worship, and devotion to the Virgin a sort of spiritual love, yet it does not appear that Our Lady testified any of the jealousy which she might naturally have felt by miraculously depriving him of his Garcilaso ; on the contrary, it came with him, on his return, as entire, though not in quite so good condition, as the Horas de Nuestra Senora.

They arrived at Carthagena sooner than they wished; for in living on the route they found great freedom and variety; and something new and agreeable was constantly occurring. There they embarked in four Neapolitan galleys; and here again Tomas Rodaja remarked the strange life which was led in those marine tenements; in which, for the greater part of the time, the passengers were annoyed by the vermin, robbed by the galley-slaves, provoked by the sailors, pilfered by the mice, and fatigued by the motion of the vessel. He was terrified at the violent winds and storms, especially in the gulf of Lyons, where they experienced two; of which one carried them to Corsica, and the other back to Toulon. At length, wet with brine, and exhausted for want of sleep, their blue sunken eyes plainly shewing the harassing vigils they had undergone, they reached the beautiful city of Genoa, then independent, flourishing, and luxurious; and landed on its sheltered Mandrace. After going to church, as was the custom, to return thanks to heaven for their escape from the dangers of the sea, the captain and all his companions repaired to a tavern; where all their past dangers were soon forgotten in the present enjoyment.

Our good Tomas beheld with admiration the fair hair of the Genoese women, the and easy deportment of the men, gay and the great beauty of the city, shining within the rocks that enclose it, like diamonds set in gold. The next day all the companies landed; they were destined for Piedmont; but Tomas chose to go from Genoa by land to Rome, and to Naples, intending to return by Venice and Loretto to Milan and Pied

said that he would find him, unless, as was rumoured, they should in the mean time be ordered to Flanders.

In two days, Tomas took leave of the captain, to proceed on his Italian tour, a brief account of which we shall give in his own words, extracted from a letter which, on the completion of it, he addressed to an untravelled fellow-student at Salamanca, in fulfilment of a promise which he had made in taking leave of him for his travels. In this letter he gave the general result of his observations, leaving the details for verbal communication. In order to the better understanding both of the matter and manner of this extract, the reader should bear in mind that the writer of the epistle was a Spaniard, a catholic, and that he wrote in the latter part of the sixteenth century, at a period not long subsequent to the conquest of Mexico.

"In three days (says he) after parting with my friend the captain, I arrived at Florence, having first seen the small but pretty town of Lucca, in which Spaniards are more cordially received and better treated than in any other part of Italy. I was extremely pleased with Florence, as well for its agreeable situation as for its cleanliness, its sumptuous buildings, its pleasant river, and its quiet streets.

"I stayed there four days; after which I departed for Rome, the queen of cities and mistress of the world. I visited her temples, adored her relics, admired her grandeur, and, as from the detached claws of the lion we estimate the size and power of the animal to which they belonged, so did I estimate those of Rome by her broken marbles and statues, her ruined arches and dilapidated baths, her magnificent porticos and vast amphitheatres,-by her famous and sacred river, whose banks are ever full, and ever sanctified by the numberless remains of martyrs there interred,-by her bridges, which seem to gaze in wonder at one another, and by her streets, whose very names seem to give them dominion over those of all other cities in the world-as the Appian, the Flaminian, the Julian way. I then contemplated with like admiration the division of her different mounts,the Celian, the Quirinal, the Vatican, and the other four, whose names make manifest the greatness and majesty of Rome. I also remarked the dignity of the conclave, the majesty of the supreme pontiff, and the concourse and variety of people and nations. Each of these things I attentively observed and carefully noted. Then, having performed the

station of the seven churches, confessed myself to a penitentiary, kissed his holiness's toe, and loaded myself with beads and agnus deis,* I determined to go to Naples: and, the weather being then unsettled, and injurious to all who at that season travelled to or from Rome by land, I went to Naples by sea.

"The admiration which Rome had excited in me, was, I think, exceeded by that which I felt at the sight of Naples, which in my opinion, as in that of all who have seen it, is the finest city in Europe, or indeed in the world. From thence I went to Sicily, and visited Palermo and Messina. I admired Palermo for its situation and its beauty, Messina for its port, and the whole island for its abundance, on account of which it is truly and properly called the granary of Italy.

"I returned by Naples to Rome; and from thence went to Our Lady of Loretto, in whose holy temple I could not see the walls; for they were all covered with crutches, shrouds, chains, fetters, manacles, wigs, waxen busts, pictures, and figures, manifesting the numerous mercies which many had received from the hands of God through the intercession of his divine mother, who this her holy image is pleased to exalt and sanction by a multitude of miracles, in return for the devotion of those who thus adorn the interior of her mansion. I saw the very chamber in which was delivered the greatest and most important of all embassies that were ever witnessed by all the heavens, by all the angels, and all that abide in the everlasting abodes.

"From thence, embarking at Ancona, I went to Venice; a city which, if Columbus had never been born, we should not have known its like. Thanks to heaven, and to the great Hernando Cortes, who conquered the great city of Mexico, we have that which may in some degree compete with it. These two famous cities seem to float upon the water; that of Europe being the admiration of the old world, and that of America the wonder of the new. Its riches appeared to me immense, its government wise, its situation impregnable, its abundance

* Agnus Deis. These were oval or circular cakes of white wax, moulded and blessed by the Pope, with the dust of holy relics, in the presence and with the assistance of some of his cardinals and prelates,-imprinted on one side with the figure of a lamb and the inscription AGNUS DEI, and on the other with the figure of Christ, of Our Lady, or of some saint, with the appropriate inscription, and the name of the pontiff by whom they were manufactured.

great, its neighbourhood pleasant; in short it seemed altogether worthy of the great reputation which it has acquired throughout the world, and which is additionally supported by its famous arsenal, in which are built its galleys and other vessels without number. The pleasures and pastimes of the island of Calypso seemed to be realized in those which I found at Venice; indeed they were such that I confess they almost made me forget the original plan of my journey.

"However, having stayed there a month, I proceeded by Ferrara, Parma, and Placentia, to Milan, the workshop of Vulcan, the hatred of France; a city magnificent in its grandeur and that of its temple, and great in its astonishing abundance of all the necessaries and conveniences of life. From thence I went to Asti, in Piedmont, where I have arrived the very day before Don Diego's regiment is to march for Flanders.'

How much of the catholic devotion which our friend Tomas seems to testify in this epistle, was real and heartfelt, it is not for us to determine; or whether he really exulted in the consciousness that he was one of the numerous spiritual vassals of that church, whose dominion was far more firmly rooted in his native country than ever the temporal sway of pagan Rome had been. He might be then, or he might be tending to become, one of the few who, even in those days, and in the very strongholds of the dark despotism of papal Rome, made those protestations in their hearts which, if whispered from their lips, or intimated by their pens, would have consigned them to the dungeons of the Inquisition. At all events, the manner in which he speaks of the chapel of Our Lady of Loretto and its furniture, does not indicate any great degree of reverence for that one of the numberless gross impositions of the Roman church.

One cannot help remarking upon the oddness of the internal decorations of this chapel. It has been observed of Henry the Seventh's chapel, by persons of architectural taste, that the stalls of the knights of the bath, reared against the pillars and arches of the nave, forming screens that separate the aisles from the body of the edifice, diminish the airiness and interrupt the harmony of the plan: but the interior of Our Lady's chapel of Loretto, whatever architectural beauty it may otherwise possess, must have presented the appearance of a very lumberroom, a repository for marine stores, or,

most of all, perhaps, of a pawnbroker's shop; for be it remembered, that besides the crutches, shrouds, fetters, wigs, busts, &c. above specified, which hung round the walls, the image of Our Lady was loaded with chains of gold, with rings and jewels, emeralds, pearls, and rubies, and the angels of solid gold which were placed on every side, were enriched with the most valuable diamonds; and the holy jewellers did not escape the suspicion of substituting for some of these ornaments, less costly brilliants,-for the disinterested purpose, no doubt, of more securely preserving the Virgin's regalia, without at the same time diminishing "the splendour of Our Lady's brow" in the eyes of the adoring multitude.

To return, however, to our traveller ;— if he, like other votaries, made good use of his Horas de Nuestra Senora at Loretto, we must infer, from his own account, that he did not altogether neglect his Garcilaso at Venice.

At his return to Piedmont he was well received by his friend the captain; his letter to Salamanca seems to have been written rather hastily in the evening of the same day; and the next morning he departed in company with Don Diego for Flanders; where he visited Antwerp, a city at that time scarcely less worthy of admiration than those which he had seen in Italy. He went to Ghent and to Brussels, and saw that the whole country was arming, in order to take the field the next

summer.

Therefore, having now seen what he had wished to see, he resolved to return to Salamanca, and finish his studies; which he did without further delay; though to the great sorrow of his companion, who, at parting, requested that he would send him intelligence of his arrival, his health, and fortune. He promised so to do; and then returned through France to Spain, without seeing Paris, on account of the warlike preparations. At length he reached Salamanca, where he was well received by his friends; and with the means which they afforded him, he prosecuted his studies until he obtained the degree of Licentiate, or Doctor of Laws.

(Continued at page 154).

A FRIEND IN NEED.

A gentleman "unaccustomed to public speaking," becoming embarrassed, whispered to his friend, "Quick, quick! give me-give me a word!" Upon which the other replied, "Yes, yes; what word do you want?"

SKETCHES OF TURKEY.

BY N. P. WILLIS.

The grand bazaar of Constantinople, and its infinite variety of wonders-silent shopkeepers-female curiosity-adventure with a black-eyed stranger-the Bezestein-the strong hold of orientalism-picture of a Dragoman-the kibaub-shop; a dinner without knives, forks, or chairs-cistern of the thousand and one columns.

BRING all the shops of London together around St. Paul's, remove their fronts, pile up all their goods on shelves facing the street, cover the whole with a roof, and metamorphose your trim clerks into bearded, turbaned, and solemn old Mussulmen, smooth Jews, and calpacked and rosy Armenians, and you will have something like the grand bazaar of Constantinople. You can scarcely get an idea of it, without having been there. It is a city under cover. You walk all day, and day after day, from one street to another, winding and turning, and trudging up hill and down, and never go out of doors. The roof is as high as those of our threestory houses; and the dim light so favourable to shop-keepers, comes struggling down through skylights, never cleaned except by the rains of heaven.

Strolling through the bazaar is an endless amusement. It is slow work, for the streets are as crowded as a church-aisle after service: and, pushed aside one moment by a bevy of Turkish ladies, shuffling along in their yellow slippers, muffled to the eyes; the next by a fat slave carrying a child; again by a kervas armed to the teeth, and clearing the way for some coming dignitary, you find your only policy is to draw in your elbows, and suffer the motley crowd to shove you about at their pleasure.

Each shop in this world of traffic may be two yards wide. The owner sits crosslegged on the broad counter below, the height of a chair from the ground, and hands you all you want without stirring from his seat. One broad bench or counter runs the length of the street, and the different shops are only divided by the slight partition of the shelves. The purchaser seats himself on the counter, to be out of the way of the crowd, and the shopman spreads out his goods on his knees, never condescending to open his lips except to tell you the price. If he exclaims "bono," or "calo," (the only word a real Turk ever knows of another language), he is stared at by his neighbours as a man would be in Cornhill who should break out with an Italian bravura. Ten to one, while you are

examining his goods, the bearded trader creeps through the hole leading to his kennel of a dormitory in the rear, washes himself and returns to his counter, where, spreading his sacred carpet in the direction of Mecca, he goes through his prayers and prostrations, perfectly unconscious of your presence, or that of the passing crowd. No vocation interferes with his religious duty. Five times a day, if he were running from the plague, the Mussulman would find time for prayers.

The Frank purchaser attracts a great deal of curiosity. As he points to an embroidered handkerchief, or a rich shawl, or a pair of gold-worked slippers, Turkish ladies of the first rank, gathering their yashmacks securely over their faces, stop close to his side, not minding if they push him a little to get nearer the desired article. Feeling not the least timidity, except for their faces, these true children of Eve examine the goods in barter, watch the stranger's countenance, and if he takes off his glove, or pulls out his purse, take it up and look at it, without ever saying "by your leave." Their curiosity often extends to your dress, and they put out their little henna-stained fingers and pass them over the sleeve of your coat with a gurgling expression of admiration at its fineness; or if you have rings or a watch-guard, they lift your hand or pull out your watch with no kind of scruple. I have met with several instances of this in the course of my rambles. But a day or two ago I found myself rather more than usual a subject of curiosity. I was alone in the street of embroidered handkerchiefs (every minute article has its peculiar bazaar), and wishing to look at some of uncommon beauty, I called one of the many Jews always near a stranger to turn a penny by interpreting for him, and was soon up to the elbows in goods that would tempt a female angel out of Paradise. As I was selecting one for a purchase, a woman plumped down upon the seat beside me, and fixed her great, black, unwinking eyes upon my face, while an Abyssinian slave and another white woman, both apparently her dependents, stood respectfully at her back. A small torquoise ring (the favourite colour in Turkey) first attracted her attention. She took up my hand, and turned it over in her soft, fat fingers, and dropped it again without saying a word. I looked at my interpreter, but he seemed to think it nothing extraordinary, and I went on

with my bargain. Presently my fineeyed friend pulled me by the sleeve, and as I leaned toward her, rubbed her forefinger very quickly over my cheek, looking at me intently all the while. I was a little disturbed with the lady's familiarity, and asked my Jew what she wanted. I found that my rubicund complexion was something uncommon among these dark-skinned orientals, and she wished to satisfy herself that I was not painted! I concluded my purchase, and putting the parcel into my pocket, did my prettiest at an oriental salaam, but to my mortification, the lady only gathered up her yashmack, and looked surprised out of her great eyes at my freedom. My Constantinople friends inform me that I am to lay no "unction to my soul" from her notice, such liberties being not at all particular. The husband exacts from his half-dozen wives only the concealment of their faces, and they have no other idea of impropriety in public.

In the centre of the bazaar, is what is called the bezestien. You descend into it from four directions by massive gates, which are shut, and all persons excluded, except between seven and twelve of the forenoon. This is the core of Constantinople—the soul and citadel of orientalism.

It is devoted to the sale of arms and to costly articles only. The roof is loftier and the light more dim than in the outer bazaars, and the merchants who occupy its stalls, are old and of established credit. Here are subjects for the pencil! If you can take your eye from those Damascus sabres, with their jewelled hilts and costly scabbards, or from those gemmed daggers and guns inlaid with silver and gold, cast a glance along that dim avenue and see what a range there is of glorious old graybeards, with their snowy turbans! These are the Turks of the old regime, before Sultan Mahmoud disfigured himself with a coat like a "dog of a christian," and broke in upon the customs of the orient. These are your opium-eaters, who smoke even in their sleep, and would not touch wine if it were handed them by houris! These are your fatalists, who would scarce take the trouble to get out of the way of a lion, and who are as certain of the miracle of Mahomet's coffin as of the length of the pipe, or of the quality of the tabacco of Shiraz !

I have spent many an hour in the bezestein, steeping my fancy in its rich orientalism, and sometimes trying to make a purchase for myself or others. It is curious to see with what perfect

indifference these old cross-legs attend to the wishes of a Christian. I was idling round one day with an English traveller, whom I had known in Italy, when a Persian robe of singular beauty, hanging on one of the stalls, arrested my companion's attention. He had with him his Turkish dragoman, and, as the old merchant was smoking away and looking right at us, we pointed to the dress over his head, and the interpreter asked to see it. The Mussulman smoked calmly on, taking no more notice of us than of the white clouds curling through his beard.

He might have sat for Michael Angelo's Moses. Thin, pale, calm, and of a statue-like repose of countenance and posture, with a large oldfashioned turban, and a curling beard, half mingled with gray, his neck bare, and his fine bust enveloped in the flowing and bright-coloured drapery of the east-I had never seen a more majestic figure. He evidently did not wish to have any thing to do with us. At last I took out my snuff-box, and addressing him with "effendi!" the Turkish title of courtesy, laid my hand on my breast, and offered him a pinch. Tobacco in this unaccustomed shape is a luxury here, and the amber mouthpiece emerged from his moustache, and putting his three fingers into my box, he said "pekkhe!" the Turkish ejaculation of approval. He then made room for us on his carpet, and with a cloth measure took the robe from its nail, and spread it before us. My friend bought it unhesitatingly for a dressing-gown, and we spent an hour in looking at shawls, of prices perfectly startling, arms, chalices for incense, spotless amber for pipes, pearls, bracelets of the time of Sultan Selim, and an endless variety of "things rich and rare." The closing of the bezestein gates interrupted our agreeable employment, and our old friend gave us the parting salaam very cordially for a Turk. I have been there frequently since, and never pass without offering my snuff-box, and taking a whiff or two from his pipe, which I cannot refuse, though it is not out of his mouth, except when offered to a friend, from sunrise till midnight.

One of the regular "lions" of Constantinople is a kibaub shop, or Turkish restaurant. In a ramble with our consul, the other day, in search of the newlydiscovered cistern of a "thousand and one columns," we found ourselves, at the hungry hour of twelve, opposite a famous shop near the slave-market. was rather staggered at the first glance.