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such as the past hours had witnessed, humbly demanded his master's pleasure.

"Hark ye! old man," replied the Khalif," and when you have heard my words, question them not, but on thy head, obey! Write to the captains of my army now in Sindh, and say, that it is the command of the Khalif Wallid, that in the hour his royal seal is received by them, the living body of Mahomed Bin Cassim be enclosed in a raw hide, yet warn with life, and so sent hither without delay-let Keiss command my army-write!"

Bin Yusuf started. But Kesso-Phul, with a piercing scream, sank at the Khalif's feet. "Mercy," she exclaimed, "great prince, mercy for the Moslem general!"

"How, girl!" exclaimed the prince, in a voice of thunder, "art thou then base enough to love this villain, thy destroyer? Away with this wretched one, polluted equally in mind and body; and, mark you, old man, learn to obey, not question, even in thought, thy master's words, if thou wouldst thyself escape Bin Cassim's fate." And waving his hand, as if again to enforce the prompt fulfilment of his cruel and despotic mandate, the Khalif passed forth from the Hall of Lamps, ⚫ with a spirit dark and threatening as his brow.

Time passed; and the Prince of Damascus sat gloomily in his splendid palace, meditating upon his general's treachery, and his loss to the armies of the faithful, when Bin Yusuf suddenly, and without announcement, stood before him.

"Ha!" exclaimed the Khalif," "think you it is well, thus to break in upon thy master's privacy?"

"Pardon thy slave, great Khalif, was the reply: "but Bin Yusuf brings news he may desire to hear, to the feet of the chosen of the prophet-messengers have arrived from Sindh”.

Ha!" interrupted the prince.

"And they bring with them, oh scourge of the infidels! the body of Mahomed Bin Cassim, as was commanded by the letters of your slave."

For a moment, the Khalif bent his head, and the shadow from some deep emotion passed over his noble countenance; but, as with an effort, he threw off the passing weakness, he gazed again upon his minister as sternly and as coldly as before.

"And how died the recreant?" inquired the Khalif.

"As my lord commanded," was the reply. "When the letters written by your slave reached his camp, the general, Bin Cassim, read them, and turning from the messenger, 'tis said, was deeply moved; but, quickly recovering, he directed the sentence to be at once fulfilled, requiring only as a boon, that his homage should be carried to the master whose slave he was! During two days of agony, the hide tightened round his panting frame; and on the third, as the muezzins called to evening prayer, Bin Cassim died! In a rich chest of sandal wood, the body now awaits the Khalif's orders."

"Bear it to the harem," was the reply, " and summon thither the Pagan captives."

In the most secluded of the women's apartments, was placed that sandal chest; and near it, with oppressed and gloomy brow, stood the Khalif Wallid. The eunuchs who had placed it there still lingered, and the daughters of King Dahir, unveiled, but splendidly attired, were present as their master had commanded. But how different the mien of those most lovely sisters. Kessoo-Phul, her soft eyes fixed upon the ground, was half turned from the fearful object which met her view, while a shudder crept through her slender frame, and heavy tears rolled slowly over her pallid cheek. The beautiful Girpul-Deo, her arms folded over her heaving bosom, looked earnestly upon the cause of her sister's dread, a strange excitement flushing her cheek, and the fire of her eye startling even the haughty Khalif as he gazed on it-triumph, revenge, insulted dignity, and passionate exultation, all seemed blended in the glitter of that dilated eye; and the prince, as if fascinated by its wondrous brightness, seemed almost to forget the object of their presence there; but the daughter of the king brooked no delay, and as she waved her hand, the eunuchs, awed by her queenly look, cast open that sandal chest! A loud, ringing laugh, and then a flood of burning tears, burst from the half-maddened Girpul-Deo, as, springing forward, she gazed upon the mutilated skeleton of her country's conqueror. Bending down, she then removed the fragments of a scarf of green and gold that still clung round the shrivelled remains of the once graceful Moslem; and again standing erect beside the chest, and drawing the blood-stained arrow from her bosom, she turned her eyes towards heaven, and rapidly poured forth the following thanksgiving.

"Praised be the gods of my fathers, that this day has come! that victory has been given to the daughter of King Dahir, and that she has avenged the wrongs of her father and her people! The conqueror of Alōr has been defeated by the hand of a woman, and the gods of Meru have made her the instrument of their will." But now, as she ceased speaking, a piercing shriek burst from the inner apartment, and Ayesha flung herself at the Khalif's feet.

"Enough! enough!" exclaimed the Khalif, raising Ayesha in nis arms, "be comforted, sweet niece. Girl," he continued, sternly addressing Girpul-Deo," you have now beheld the absolute power of the Khalif Wallid, and how he punished such servants as Bin Cassim -you are revenged-retire!"

But now, for the first time on that fatal day, Kesso-Phul raised her soft eyes, and fixing them reproachfully on the Khalif, she murmured forth" Alas, alas! great prince! though absolute, thou art not just; a monarch should weigh better the representations which fall upon his kingly ear."

"How!" exclaimed the Khalif-" your words are bold."

"My sister's words," returned Girpul-Deo," are bold, yet true, my lord; and now learn, great prince of rich Damascus, commander of the Moslems, cruel destroyer of all that opposes thee and thy religion, July 1843.-VOL. XXXVII.-NO. CXLVII.

R

that I, on the battle field of fallen Alōr, beside the slain body of its murdered king, swore by the gods of the Pagans, to avenge my father and his people. The Moslem general, as the leader of your ariny, became the object of my oath, but my accusation of his treachery was false, oh prince! I spoke as the blood of my father cried to me for vengeance; my dear, my murdered father! Bin Cassim, Khalif, was true as he was brave; true to his prince and to his love. From the insults of your brutal soldiery he saved us, soothing our griefs as a father and a brother, and treating us with honour as the daughters of his fallen foe; this, oh Khalif, as the gods of Meru live, is true ;— my object is attained, my oath fulfilled-do with us as you will."

"Allah and the prophet be praised," exclaimed Ayesha, raising herself from the Khalif's arms; but ere his hand could stay the act, a poignard was sheathed in her fair bosom, and she sunk dying by the side of him she loved so well.

"Alas! alas!" exclaimed the Khalif, "sweet Ayesha! brave Bin Cassim friend of my youth, leader of my armies, nobly didst thou live, and like a hero died. The conquest of the accursed infidels has broken thy master's heart; but for thee," continued the agitated prince, turning to the Pagan captives, "you see your work, daughters of an unclean dog, accursed slaves of infidels !—and vengeance has not ended. You have given a lesson, even to the Khalif Wallid; and pity such as you have shown, such even shall you meet! Eunuchs! call hither the Arab guard, and see that within the hour, these Pagan slaves are stripped of their rich apparel, chained to the hoofs of the fleetest of my Arab coursers, and dragged till nightfall through the streets of fair Damascus, amidst the curses of its people. As the god of the Moslem lives, the Khalif will have vengeance."

Upon the open plain, beyond the gate Keisan, lay long the whitened bones of the once lovely daughters of King Dahir; while, in a rich and fruitful garden, surrounded with shading trees, was seen an exquisitely sculptured mausoleum of fair white marble, adorned with minarets and musjids, of the richest style of Syrian architecture. Here, amidst the song of birds, the voice of prayer, the murmuring music of many fountains, reposed for ages the fairest and the bravest of Islam's children,-Bin Cassim, and his beloved Ayesha.

IRISH SONG.

LADY BELVIDERE'S LAMENT.*

BY MRS. CRAWFORD.

LONELY and sad, from slumber breaking,
When all the world is lock'd in sleep,
With troubled soul, to sorrow waking,
I watch the silent stars, and weep:
I weep for hopes too early blighted,
I weep for him, the changed of heart,
Who scorns the vow I fondly plighted,
And wills that we for ever part.

Ye ruthless walls wherein I languish,
Ye coldly echo back my sighs;

Thou gentle moon, that mark'st my anguish,
Oh! send me comfort from the skies:
Tell me of rest, when life is over,

In some bright world unlike to this,
Where faithless friend nor jealous lover,
Can come between my soul and bliss!

Ye faithless friends! my side forsaking,

Like summer birds, when fortune shone
Ye flutter'd round my path, but breaking
Hearts are left to die alone!

Oh! when the hand of death has broken
The bonds of this imprison'd frame,
The world shall find, by proof and token,
That mine was not a guilty name.

"While passing by a well-wooded and enclosed demesne, with a fine manorhouse in the centre, some one remarked that it was Gaulstown, now the property of Lord Kilmaine, but formerly the mansion of the Earls of Belvidere. Robert, the first Earl of Belvidere, married, in 1736, Mary, the daughter of Lord Viscount Mollesworth; she was wondrously beautiful, but for some cause that excited to jealousy bis determined spirit, he had his fair countess locked up in Gaulstown bouse for twenty years, allowing her only the attendance of a confidential servant of his own; and this most admired woman of her day, lingered away the prime of her life, neither the world forgetting, nor by the world forgot-but unknown, and unknowing-guarded by the creatures of her husband, a man who was instigated by more than Spanish jealousy, and who lived and died under the influence of more than Spanish revenge. By the death of her lord, she was at last liberated from her thraldom. During the earl's life, no one ventured to call his severe and illegal conduct into question, for he was too useful to the government for them to interfere in behalf of a weak woman, and the personal courage of this clever and handsome Blueheard was of that exorbitant and reckless character, that no preur chevalier was found hardy enough to attempt the rescue of the lovely countess from durance vile. In this way they managed matters in Ireland a hundred years ago."-A Tour to Connaught.

LETTERS FROM ABROAD TO A FRIEND AT

CAMBRIDGE.*

BY JOHN HOGG, ESQ., M.A., F.R.S., F.C.P.S., ETC.; LATE FELLOW OF ST. PETER'S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.

V.

Palermo, June 21st.

ABOUT a week after I sent you my letter from Rome, I bade farewell to that delightful city. Turning my face southwards, I followed Horace's journey along the "Queen of the (ancient) ways," the Via Appia, through the Pomptine or Pontine marshes,-Terracina, the former Tarracina of Cicero, but better known by its supposed Volscian name Anxur,-Fondi, where there are many interesting antiquities,Mola di Gaeta or Formiæ, i.e. the “Mamurrarum Urbs,” near which place Cicero had his splendid Villa, or rather, as he styled it, his "Basilica" Formiana, and where that illustrious person was so barbarously murdered,-as far as the modern Capua, which is considered to have been the Casilinum of antiquity, famous for its defence against the Carthaginians, and placed at a short distance from the remains of the original and luxurious Capua, a city once only second to Rome in size and opulence. From thence, the Roman bard took the straight road through Beneventum to Brundusium, now Brindisi, but I chose the one on the right, which passes near the ancient Atella, and which soon conducted me along a most fertile and delicious plain, a portion of the rich Ager Campanus-still named La Campania-to Naples,— the splendid and beautiful Parthenope of the Muses. I will not weary you with my own descriptions of this celebrated road, or of the city of Naples, or of its superb vicinity, since you are familiar with them: you having often read full and excellent accounts of them from the more able pens of other travellers; but will only remark that I was greatly pleased with some of the antiquities which exist in the Campi Phlegræi; at Puteoli, now Pozzuoli; upon the sites of Baiæ, Cumæ, on one side of Naples; and with Herculaneum, Pompeii, and Pæstum, on the other. If, indeed, I were disappointed with the diminutive size of the houses and buildings at Pompeii, I was thunderstruck with the colossal grandeur and majesty of the three Doric edifices of Pæstum, (Posidonia,) and think that the Great Temple of Neptune (Poseidon) is the most simple, solid, and magnificent ruin of the sort which Í have ever seen. These monuments fully demonstrate that Pæstum must have been one of the noblest places in Magna Græcia. Even at this day, the Mediterranean itself-which was the especial and favourite realm of that deity—seems to respect his sacred city, for it has not retreated far from its walls, in the space of very many centuries. I was fortunate in finding some wild flowers of the "rosaria

These Letters were written, and sent per post to Cambridge from the cities whence they are dated.

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