mayor and to the commander of the national guard, who declared that, to their knowledge, it was not Julien who disarmed the soldier Jarnot; but they denied all knowledge as to who was the accused. Seeing that no one would speak the truth, and that there was a strong presumption against Julien, M. Costein, a physician at Montmagny, one of the witnesses who had been heard, rose and said, ‘As the committer of this act has not the honour to confess it, and as Julien has the generosity to conceal his name, although he knows it perfectly, I will name him myself, since I have sworn to speak the whole truth; and since I cannot let the innocent be punished for the guilty, he who is pointed out by all at Montmagny, and whom they fear to accuse here, is Leon Testard: if he owes me any ill will for this, he will be wrong, and I shall despise him; for I have only done that which he ought to have done himself.'

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This declaration produced a strong sensation both among the hearers and the accused. Testard, to whom all eyes were turned, rose, but instead of making a confession, merely uttered a dry negative.

"M. Coulbeaux, maintained that his client could not be made to suffer for the consequences of a disclosure which had been provoked by a demand made in the presence of all the witnesses. This objection produced no effect.

"The Tribunal retired to deliberate. It returned after an hour, and passed a judgment which condemned Leon Testard to a month's imprisonment; the woman Tillet and Louis Andrew Berthe, to twenty days' imprisonment; Brot for fifteen days; Gurinier (called the Chanter) for ten days; Julien and Viard, who, as well as several other culprits, had been confined for a length of time, were condemned to eight days' imprisonment, and the others for five and three days; four were acquitted."

EASTERN CEMETERIES.

In noticing the various cemeteries to which the attention of travellers has been invited, and with whose descriptions we have been gratified, it would be wrong to pass by those used generally in the East and by the followers of Mohammed in particular.

Amongst the various popular accounts with which the public have been been favoured by recent travellers, few will be found more interesting than the cheerful and graphic descriptions of that accomplished and fearless traveller, Miss Pardoe.

We are indebted to her "History of the City of the Sultan" for the following extracts:

nance;

"The philosophy and kindly feelings of the Turk are carried even beyond the grave he looks upon death calmly and without repughe does not connect it with ideas of gloom and horror as we are too prone to do in Europe-he spreads his burial-place in the sunniest spots on the crests of the laughing hills, where they are bathed in the new light of the blue sky-beside the crowded thoroughfares of the city, where the dead are, as it were, once more mingled with the living in the green nooks that stretch down to the Bosphorus, wherein more selfish spirits would have erected a villa, or have planted a vineyard He identifies himself with the generation which has passed away-he is ready to yield his place to that which is to succeed his own.'

"I have alluded elsewhere to the apparent

care with which the Turks select the most lovely spots for burying their dead, and how they have, by such means, divested death of its most gloomy attributes. Like the ancient Romans, they form grave-yards by the roadside; and, like them, they inscribe upon their tombs the most beautiful lessons of resignation and philosophy."

"The cemetery of Pera offers a singular spectacle; and the rather, that these Champs des Morts are the promenade of the whole population-Turk, French, Greek, and Armenian. The lesser burial-place, or Petits Champs, is sacred to the Mussulman, and fringes with its dark cypresses the crest of the hill that dominates the port: it is hemmed in with houses -overlooked by a hundred casements-grazed by cattle-loud with greetings and gossipings, and commands an extensive view of the shipping in the harbour, and the opposite shore. There are footpaths among the funeral trees; sunny glades gleaming out amid the dark shadows; headstones clustered against the grassy slopes, and guardhouses, with their portals, thronged with lounging soldiers, mocking the defencelessness of the dead. Nor must I forget to mention the small octagonal building, which, seated in the very depth of the valley, and generally remarkable for the dense volume of smoke arising from its small tall chimney, marks the spot where the last profane duties are paid to the dead: where the body is washed, the beard is shorn, the nails are cut, the limbs are decently composed, ere what was

so lately a true believer, is laid to rest in the narrow grave, to be aroused only by the sound of the last Trumpet.

"The superiority of the Turkish cemeteries over those of Europe may be accounted for in several ways: Their head-stones are more picturesque and various, their situation better chosen, and above all things, the Mussulman never disturbs the ashes of the dead—there is no burying and reburying on the same spot, as with us: the remains of the departed are sacred.

"When a body is committed to the earth, the priest plants a cypress at the head, and another at the foot of the grave; hence those far spreading forests, those bough o'ercanopied cities of the dead, which form so remarkable a feature in Turkish scenery. Should only one tree in six survive, enough still remain to form a dense and solemn grove: but the Turks have a singular superstition with regard to those that, instead of raising their tall heads to the sky, take a downward bend, as though they would fain return to the earth from whence they sprang: they hold that these imply the damnation of the soul whose mortal remains they overshadow; and as, from the closeness with which they are planted, and their consequent number, such accidents are by no means rare, it must be, at best, a most uncomfortable creed."

"A few paces from the spot* whence you

* The Maiden's Tower, now the Plague Hospital of th Turks.

look down upon this varied scene-a few paces, and from the refuge of the dying you gaze upon the resting-place of the dead-where the Acacia trees blossom in their beauty, and shed their withered flowers upon a plain of graves, on their right hand immediately in a line with the European cemetery, is the burial ground of the Armenians. It is a thickly-peopled spot; and as you wander beneath the leafy boughs of the scented Acacias, and thread your way among the tombs, you are struck by the peculiarity of their inscriptions. The nobly Armenian character is deeply engraven into the stone; but that which renders the Armenian slab, (for there is not a headstone throughout the cemetery,) peculiar and distinctive, is the singular custom that has obtained among this people of chiseling upon the tomb the emblem of the trade or profession of the deceased. Thus the priest is distinguished, even beyond the grave, by the mitre that surmounts his name-the diamond merchant, by a group of ornaments-the money changer, by a pair of scales-the florist, by a knot of flowers-besides many more ignoble hieroglyphics-such as the razor of the barber-the shears of the tailorand others of this class; and where the calling is one that may have been followed by either sex, a book placed immediately above the appropriate emblem, distinguishes the grave of the man.

"Nor is this all: the victims of a violent death have also their distinctive mark-and more than one tomb, in this extraordinary