The kitten climbs on his knees, and is eager to share his embraces. There is then in the very looks, aspect, movement, attitude and appearance of man, something that diffuses happiness and enjoyment around him. These are perfections which belong to no other being with which we are acquainted; but they are not the perfections of his intellectual but of his physical nature. They are perfections which the author of his being conferred on him, and which he could not acquire by any efforts of his own. But when to these are added the perfections of intellect, how far does he surpass all other animals. The perfections of intellect enable him not only to increase his own happiness but that of his species, and teach him to look forward to the great Author of happiness and of existence, in whom "he lives and moves and has his being;" and in whom all his hopes and contemplations ultimately terminate. Intellectual perfection, therefore, seems to consist, not in the knowledge of abstract truths, but in that knowledge which points out to us the means of promoting universal happiness, and which persuades us to adopt them. There are, however, no truths that can strictly be called abstract, because they are all either immediately or remotely connected with the promotion of human happiness; but the more remote the connexion, the less valuable is the truth.

In a rigid, philosophical sense, however, all the works of creation are equally perfect, or, as perfection admits of no degrees, they are all perfect, because they are all the productions of a perfect being. A perfect being can create nothing that is imperfect, because he could not be perfect if he did any thing imperfectly. The Deity, it is true, has placed some beings higher in the order of creation than others; and it is only in this sense that man can be called the most perfect of them all, or, at least, of all that are subjected to the bonds of materiality. The work of every artist is made with a view to a certain end, and if the work be so badly contrived as not to fulfil this end, it is not only imperfect, but proves that the artist by which it was formed had not a just idea of the means by which the proposed end could be obtained. All the works of creation, therefore, either fulfil the ends for which they were created, or they do not. If not, the Deity was ignorant of the means by which these ends could be attained, unless it be argued, that though he knew the means, and could have created beings fitted to fulfil them, if he chose, yet he had not recourse to them, because he had no object in creating the world, and

having proposed no certain end, he consequently adopted no certain means. This argument is not only subversive of religion and morality, but sanctions the commission of the most nefarious crimes, because there can be no law to govern the actions of a man who is created for no certain end. The being, however, that could think of creating the world without any fixed object in view, could not be God, because he would be more imperfect than man himself, who always prefers harmony and order to confusion and anarchy, whenever he can attain them; and the latter must unavoidably ensue wherever beings are created and brought together, governed by no certain impulses, and determined to no certain end, or line of action, either by their moral perceptions or physical propensities.

If then it be admitted, that the Deity proposed to himself a certain end in the creation of the world, or that he created all beings to fulfil certain ends, it must equally be admitted, that the natural dispositions of all beings incline them to fulfil these ends; or otherwise, that he was ignorant of the means by which these ends could be obtained; but if it could not be shown by arguments a priori, that omniscience is an attribute of the Deity, it could easily be demonstrated from the wisdom which is displayed in his works. All beings, therefore, are endowed with properties or impulses that naturally incline them to fulfil the ends of their creation; and of necessity, all beings must be created perfect; for a being whose constitution, organisation, or natural propensities, lead him away from this end, prevent him from reaching it, or incline him to go beyond it, must be imperfect; because, in all these cases, his natural constitution inclines him to fulfil an end for which he was not intended, and for which consequently he was not created. Is it consonant to our ideas of divine wisdom to suppose that he would endow any of his creatures with propensities that inclined it to go one way, while he intended it to go another? All beings then possess the propensities, dispositions or natures which they ought to possess, and consequently they are all perfect, for if they possessed any other they would be imperfect.

VOL. XXVII.

Cl. J.

NO. LIII.

K

146

NOTICE OF

JOURNAL of a TOUR in the LEVANT. By WILLIAM TURNER, Esq. Three Volumes Octavo.

PART II. [Concluded from No. LI.]

OUR author's journey to Palestine and to Egypt is the subject of his 2d volume. In Feb. 1815, he sailed from Constantinople on board of a small Turkish vessel, carrying about 40 persons, sailors and passengers. Of the Turkish sailors one was a young Candiote, who had fled from his own country, in consequence of having stabbed four men, with whom, at different times, he had quarrelled. Mr. Turner, on his voyage, visited the islands of Scio, Cos (as the Greeks still call it like their ancestors, though the Turks have given it the name of Stanco), Rhodes, and Cyprus. It appears from his interesting account, that the last-mentioned island, which had been so rich and florishing in early ages, and even under Venetian oppression, is daily impoverished and depopulated by the barbarism of its Turkish rulers, like every other place that has unhappily fallen under their subjection.

'And it was lately (says Mr. T.) like Rhodes, or even more, because nearer, ruined by the Turkish fleet and army off Satalia; the Captain Pasha who commanded forcing the island, not only to furnish him gratis with all sorts of provisions and fruits, and even to pay the freight of them, but to buy the ships he took at his own price.' (P. 39.)

Yet the Turks here, are said to be much milder towards Christians, and less bigoted than in other parts of their empire. 'Cyprus is no longer famous for the beauty, or infamous for the im modesty of its women. The women of Nicosia are, I am told, in general, pretty; but not to any extraordinary degree; and one half of their charms is destroyed by the relaxation of the system, consequent on their frequent use of the bath, that enemy of female attractions throughout the Levant. But after seeing the rigor with which they are guarded at Constantinople, I was astonished to see the familiarity with which they enter the houses here, even of the Franks, divested of either ferredjee or yatchmak.' (P. 45.) A note informs us that the former is

'A large cloak that entirely envelopes them; the yatchmak, a veil that hides all the face but the eyes. The Turks, who think that nothing but extreme restraint can secure female virtue, lay it down as a principle that a woman cannot, without a crime, let her face be seen by any other man than her husband, father, brother, uncle and father-in-law (the four

latter only at stated festivals); and that two persons of different sexes cannot be innocently alone together for a moment.' (P. 52.)

At a convent in Cyprus, Mr. T. was lucky enough to engage as his servant, a destitute orphan Greek, named George, about 15 years of age, who spoke Greek and Arabic, and was strongly recommended by the fathers who had educated him. Attended by this faithful boy, he soon after sailed in a Barbary vessel, and on the 24th of March anchored in the bay of Barout. The captain, who had given up his own bed to Mr. T., would not accept any payment or remuneration; for, having traded much with the English, he had always been so liberally treated by them that nothing, he declared, could gratify him more than having an opportunity of serving a person of that nation.

The noise of frogs, which had annoyed our author in Cyprus, he exchanged at Barout for the sound of torrents pouring through the streets from Lebanon. This mountain he visited, and its Maronite convents. In one of these Mr. T. discovered the opinion entertained of his countrymen respecting religious worship:—he tells us, that saying his prayers as usual going to bed

Fedlullah, who slept in the same room with me, asked me, 'Per l'amor di Dio, Signor, what are you doing? I told him praying; when he replied with a strong expression of surprise, 'Praying! why they told me that the English never prayed.' In fact our national character suffers much by the unavoidable inattention to public worship of our travellers. The Catholic and Greek find almost everywhere in the Levant a church of their persuasion; but the Englishman never enters one except from curiosity.' (P. 78.)

The prophecies of Isaiah and Ezekiel seem completely verified in the present state of Seyd, the ancient Sidon. All its maritime commerce is now confined to a few fishing boats, and its limits so reduced, that our author walking at the rate of three miles an hour, encompassed its walls in twenty minutes. The town consists of stone houses, fallen or falling, ruined buttresses, and old square towers; many streets passing under massy stone arches, which support the ruined houses. (P. 90.) From Sidon to Tyre (now called Sur) is reckoned a distance of nine hours; from a spot about half way, Tyre appeared like a very small town built on an island, with a small long mountain to its left.' The prophetic writers above quoted respecting Sidon may be consulted on the ancient opulence and present wretchedness of Tyre, which, Mr. T. declares, does not contain any object worthy of observation. (P. 100.) He visited with much delight the fortifications of Acre, where British valor was so eminently displayed; and Mount Carmel, of which Pope's description (in the Messiah) is, Mr. T. says, perfectly appropriate

'And Carmel's flowery top perfumes the skies.'

Nazareth is now only a large village, of miserable stone cottages, with mud floors and roofs. Here the Turks had lately murdered a poor Christian woman, on pretence that she had treated their religion with contempt, and would not allow the Greeks to bury her until they had paid two hundred piastres. Near the foot of Mount Tabor, a small village retaining its ancient name, Deborah, is said to be the spot where Sisera was nailed to the ground by Jael. (P. 196.) Having visited Tiberias, the sea of Galilee, and the village of Cana, our author left Nazareth and proceeded to Samaria and Judea, and at lengtir, on the 24th of April, was gratified with a view of Jerusalem, the Holy City (as even the Turks entitle it), with Mounts Olivet and Sion. It presented a confused prospect of trees, roofs of houses and domes, among which were conspicuous those of the Mosque of Omer (occupying the site of Solomon's temple), and of the Holy Sepulchre. Mr. T. was cordially welcomed at the Roman Catholic convent of San Salvador, even before he had delivered to them a dispatch from the English ambassador at Constantinople, authorising them (in consequence of a petition sent some months before) to draw on him for twenty-five thou sand piastres—a favor most acceptable to those worthy Franciscans, who were reduced to great distress by the exactions of the Turks, and the neglect they had experienced in consequence of the late wars in Europe. For his account of the Holy Sepulchre, the Via Dolorosa, the Pool of Bethesda, Mount Sion, the Sepulchre of David, and other royal Tombs, the river Jordan, the (probable) site of Jericho, the Dead Sea, Bethlehem, the Tomb of Rachel, the Gardens of Solomon, the Grotto of the Nativity, the Potter's field, the Pool of Siloam, the Tomb of Absalom, the Mount of Olives, and various other objects that render the consecrated precincts of Jerusalem and its vicinity so eminently interesting, we must refer the reader to Mr. T.'s work; for within our narrow limits we could not possibly do justice either to his excellent descriptions, or his ingenious conjectures and remarks. We shall notice, however, his account of the anxious impatience of those Christian pilgrims, who visit, through devotion, the holy River Jordan, and their emulation in contending for the priority in entering it, every one carrying away a bottle of the water-those whose infirmities would not allow them to bathe in the stream, soliciting those standing in it to fill their vessels for them-χατζη (Hadjee) σας παρακαλω ξαναγεμίζε TOUTO, Pilgrim, pray fill this.' But Mr. T. was disgusted with the inhumanity of those pilgrims who passed their dying companions on the road, without even asking, en passant, how they