have hitherto escaped, (for which, heaven be praised!) although my horizon has been darkened by many a cloudy threat and thundering denunciation.

To

Nose-pulling is another disagreeable branch of the editorial business. have any part of one pulled is annoying; but there is a dignity about the nose impatient even of observation or remark; while the act of taking hold of it with the thumb and finger, is worse than murder, and can only be washed out with blood. Kicking, cuffing, being turned out of doors, being abused in the papers, &c., are bad, but these are mere minor considerations. Indeed many of my brother editors rather pique themselves upon some of them, as a soldier does on the scars obtained in fighting the battles of his country. They fancy that, thereby, they are invested with claims upon their party, and suffer indefinite dreams of political eminence to be awakened in their bosoms. I have seen a fellow draw his hat fiercely down over his brow, and strut about with insufferable importance, on the strength of having been thoroughly kicked by the enemy.

This is a long digression, but it passed rapidly through my mind, as the little, hard-faced old gentleman stood before me, looking at me with a piercing glance and resolute air. At length he spoke first, like a ghost:

"You are the editor ?"-&c.

A slight motion of acquiescence with my head, and an affirmative wave of my hand, a little leaning toward the majestic, announced to my unknown friend the accuracy of his conjecture.

The little old gentleman's face relaxed -he took off his broad-brimmed hat and laid it down with his cane carefully on the table, then seized my hand and shook it heartily. People are so polite and friendly when about to ask a favour.

"My dear sir," said he, "this is a pleasure I have long sought vainly. You must know, sir, I am the editor of a theatrical weekly-a neat thing in its way-here's the last number.' He fumbled about in his pocket, and produced a red covered pamphlet. "I have been some time publishing it, and though it is admitted by all acquainted with its merits, to be clearly the best thing of the kind ever started, yet people do not seem to take much notice of it. Indeed, my friends tell me, that the public are not fully aware of its existence. Pray let me be indebted to you for a notice. I wish to get fairly afloat. You see, I

have been too diffident about it. We modest fellows allow our inferiors to pass us often. I will leave this number with you. Pray, pray give it a good notice." He placed in my hands the eleventh number of the " Thespian Magazine," devoted to the drama, and also to literature, science, history, and the arts. On reading over the prospectus, I found it vastly comprehensive, embracing pretty much every subject in the world. If so extensive a plan were decently filled up in the details, the "Thespian Magazine" was certainly worth the annual subscription money, which was only one dollar. I said so under my "literary notices," in the next impression of my journal ; and although I had not actually read the work, yet it sparkled so with asterisks, dashes, and notes of admiration, that it looked interesting. I added, in my critique, that it was elegantly got up, that its typographical execution reflected credit on the publishers, that its failure would be a grievous reproach to the city, that its editor was a scholar, a writer, and a gentleman, and was favourably known to the literary circles by the eloquence, wit, and feeling of his former productions. What those productions were, I should have been rather puzzled to say, never having read, or even heard of them. This, however, was the cant criticism of the day, which is so exorbitant and unmeaning, and so universally cast in one mould, that I was in some tribulation, on reading over the article in print, to find that I had omitted the words "native genius," which possess a kind of common-law right to a place in all articles on literary productions. Forth, however, it went to the world, and I experienced a philanthropic emotion in fancying how pleased the little, hard-faced old gentleman would be, with these flattering encomiums on his “Thespian Magazine."

The very day my paper was out, as I was sitting "full fathom five" deep in an article on "the advantages of virtue," (an interesting theme, upon my views of which I rather flattered myself), I was startled by three knocks at the door, and my "come in" exhibited to view, the broad-brimmed hat of the hard-faced old gentleman, with his breeches, buckles, gold-headed cane, and all. He laid aside his hat and cane with the air of a man who has walked a great way, and means to rest himself awhile. I was very busy. It was one of my inspired moments. Half of a brilliant idea was already committed to paper. There it lay-a frag

ment-a flower cut off in the bud-a mere outline-an embryo; and my imagination cooling like a piece of red-hot iron in the open air. I raised my eyes to the old gentleman, with a look of solemn silence, retaining my pen ready for action, with my little finger extended, and hinting, in every way, that I was "not i' the vein." I kept my lips closed. I dipped the pen in the inkstand several times, and held it hovering over the sheet. It would not do. The old gentleman was not to be driven off his ground by shakes of the pen, ink-drops, or little fingers. He fumbled about in his pockets, and drew forth the red-covered "Thespian Magazine," devoted to the drama, &c., number twelve. He wanted "a good notice. The last was rather general. I had not specified its peculiar claims upon the public. I had copied nothing. That sort of critique did no good. He begged me to read this carefully to analyze it—to give it a candid examination." I was borne down by his emphatic manner; and being naturally of a civil deportment, as well as, at that particular moment, in an impatient, feverish hurry to get on with my treatise on the "advantages of virtue," which I felt now oozing out of my subsiding brain with alarming rapidity, I promised to read, notice, investigate, analyze to the uttermost extent of his wishes, or at least of my ability.

I could scarcely keep myself screwed down to common courtesy till the moment of his departure; a proceeding which he accomplished with a most commendable self-possession and deliberate politeness. When he was fairly gone, I poked my head out, and called my boy. "Peter." "Sir."

"Did you see that little, old gentleman, Peter ?"

"Yes, sir."

"Virtue or no virtue," I thought, "I wish him to the d-."

My room is on the ground-floor, and a window adjoining the street lets in upon me the light and air through a heavy crimson curtain, near which I sit and scribble. I was just enlarging upon the necessity of resignation, while the frown yet lingered on my brow, and was writing myself into a more calm and complacent mood, when-another knock at the door. As I opened it, I heard Peter's voice asserting, sturdily, that I had " gone out." Never dreaming of my old enemy, I had betrayed too much of my person to withdraw, and I was recognized, and pounced upon by the little old gentleman, who had come back to inform me, that he intended, as soon as the increase of his subscription would permit, to enlarge and improve the "Thespian Magazine," and to employ all the writers in town. "I intend also,"

said he, and he was in the act of again laying aside that everlasting hat and cane, when a cry of fire in the neighbourhood, and the smell of the burning rafters attracted him into the street, where, as I feared, he escaped unhurt. In many respects fires are calamities, but I never saw a more forcible exemplification of Shakspeare's remark, "there is some spirit of good in things evil," than in the relief afforded me on the present occasion. I wrote, after that, with my door locked. This, I knew, was, from the confined air, prejudicial to my health; but what was dyspepsy or consumption to that little, hard-faced old gentleman to those breeches-to that broad-brimmed hatthose buckles-that gold-headed cane? "Remember, Peter," said I, the second morning after the foregoing, "I have gone out."

66

night, and wanted to go after you." "Forbid it, heaven! I have gone to Albany, Peter, on business."

"He has gone out," replied Peter, in an under tone, in which I could detect the consciousness that he was uttering a bouncer.

"But I must see him," said the voice. "The scoundrel!" muttered I. "He is not in town, sir," said Peter. "I will not detain him a single minute. It is of the greatest importance. He would be very sorry, very, should he miss me."

I held my breath-there was a pause -I gave myself up for lost, when Peter replied firmly,

"He is in Albany, sir.
five o'clock this morning."
"Be back soon?"
"Don't know."

"Where does he stay?"
"Don't know."

"I'll call to-morrow."

Went off at

I heard his retreating footsteps, and inwardly resolved to give Peter a halfdollar, although he deserved to be horsewhipped for his readiness at deception. I laughed aloud triumphantly, and slapped my hand down upon my knee with the feeling of a fugitive debtor, who, hotly pursued by a sheriff's officer, escapes over the line into another county, and snaps his fingers at Monsieur Bailiff. I was aroused from my merry mood of reverie by a touch on my shoulder. I turned suddenly. It was the hard-faced, little old gentleman, peeping in from the street. His broad-brimmed hat and two-thirds of his face were just lifted up above the window-sill. He was evidently standing on tiptoe, and the window being open, he had put aside the curtain, and was soliciting my attention with the end of his cane.

"Ah!" said he, "is it you? Well, I thought it was you. Though I wasn't sure. I won't interrupt you. Here are the proofs of number thirteen-you'll find something glorious in that—just the thing for you-don't forget me next week-good-bye. I'll see you again in a day or two."

I shall not cast a gloom over my readers by dwelling upon my feelings. Surely there are sympathetic bosoms among them. To them I appeal. I said nothing. Few could have detected any thing violent or extraordinary in my manner, as I took the proofs from the end of the little old gentleman's cane, and laid them calmly on the table. I did not write any more about "virtue" that morning. It was out of the question. Indeed my mind scarcely recovered from the shock for several days.

When my nerves are, in any way, irritated, I find a walk in the woods a soothing and agreeable sedative. Accordingly, the next afternoon, I wound up the affairs of the day earlier than usual, and set out for a ramble through the groves and along the shore of Hoboken. I was soon on one of the abrupt acclivities, where, through the deep, rich foliage of the intertwining branches, I overlooked the Hudson, the wide bay, and the superb, steepled city, stretched in a level line of magnificence upon the shining water, softened with an overhanging canopy of thin haze. I gazed at the picture, and contemplated the rivalry of nature with art, striving which could most delight. As my eye moved from ship to ship, from island to island, and from shore to shore-now reposing on the distant blue, then revelling in the nearer luxuriance of the forest green, I heard a step in the grass, and a little ragged fellow came up, and asked me if I was the editor of the I was about replying to him affirmatively, when his words arrested my attention. "A little gentleman with a hat and cane," he said, "had been inquiring for the editor, &c. at the adjoining hotel, and had given him sixpence to run up into the woods and find him." I rushed precipitately, as I thought, into the thickest recesses of the wood. The path, however, being very circuitous, I suddenly came into it, and nearly ran against a person whom it needed no second glance to recognize, although his back was luckily toward me. The hat, the breeches, the cane, were enough. If not, part of a red-covered pamphlet, sticking out of the coat pocket, was.

It must be number fourteen!" I exclaimed; and as the little old gentleman was sauntering north, I shaped my course with all possible celerity in a southerly direction.

In order to protect myself for the future, I took precautionary measures, and in addition to having myself denied, I kept the window down, and made my egress and ingress through a door round the corner, as Peter told me he had several times seen the little old gentleman, with a package in his hand, standing opposite the one through which we usually entered, and looking at the office wistfully.

By means of these arrangements I succeeded in preserving my solitude inviolate, when, to my indignation, I received several letters, from different parts of the country, written by my

friends, and pressing upon me, at the solicitation of the little old gentleman, the propriety of giving the "Thespian Magazine" a good notice. I tore the letters, each one as I read them, into three pieces, and dropped them under the table. Business calling me, soon after, to Philadelphia, I stepped on board the steamboat, exhilarated with the idea that I was to have, at least, two or three weeks respite. I reached the place of my destination about five o'clock in the afternoon. It was lovely weather. The water spread out like unrippled glass, and the sky was painted with a thousand varying shadows of crimson and gold. The boat touched the shore, and while I was watching the change of a lovely cloud, I heard the splash of a heavy body plunged into the water. A sudden sensation ran along the crowd, which rushed from all quarters towards the spot, the ladies shrieked, and turned away their heads, and I perceived that a man had fallen from the wharf, and was struggling in the tide, with only one hand held convulsively above the surface. Being a practised swimmer, I hesitated not a moment, but flung off my hat and coat, and sprang to his rescue.

With some difficulty I succeeded in bearing him to a boat and dragging him from the stream. I had no sooner done so, than to my horror and astonishment, I found I had saved the little hard-faced old gentleman. His snuff-coloured breeches were dripping before me-his broad-brimmed hat floated on the current-but his cane (thank heaven!) had sunk for ever. He suffered no other ill consequences from the catastrophe than some injury to his garments and the loss of his stick. His gratitude for my exertions knew no bounds. He assured me of his conviction that the slight acquaintance previously existing between us, would now be ripened into intimacy, and informed me of his intention to lodge at the same hotel with me. He had come to Philadelphia to see about a plate for his sixteenth number, which was to surpass all its predecessors, and of which he would let me have an early copy, that I might notice it as it deserved.-New York Mirror.

A COGENT ARGUMENT.

KING James held a convocation at Perth, and demanded of the Scotch barons that they should produce the charters by which they held their lands; they all, with one simultaneous movement, rose up and drew their swords.

FRAGMENTS ON EGYPT.

Translated from Jules Planat. (For the Parterre.)

THE CONSCRIPTION.

Ar the period of the expedition of the Morea, the viceroy ordered the formation of the 10th, 11th, and 12th regiments. The officers were drawn partly from Turks voluntarily enrolled, and partially instructed, and partly from the old regiments.

The recruits arrived in crowds from the remotest extremities of Egypt. About 12,000 men were required. I shall endeavour to give an idea of the enormity of the abuse occasioned at each summons, by the customary mode of recruiting.

In the most fatal years of our late wars, the conscription appeared a sanguinary decree, and many distressed families exclaimed against its tyranny; they were certainly entitled to complain; but if they had witnessed the heartbreaking scenes presented to us, in what language would they have expressed their grief!

The population of Egypt scarcely amounts to 2,500,000 souls, and it had already furnished within the four preceding years 50,000 men, for the composition of the Nizam.* It is then an army in proportion to double the French army, if the latter amounted to 400,000 men. Could it be imagined that to raise 12,000 men a mass of individuals six times that number were obliged to repair to the camp at Khanga! They may be classed thus:

Recruits who repaired to the camp,
not accepted, and sent back
Recruits accepted
Women, children, and old people, of
whom a third part remained at the
camp

Total

36,000

12,000

24,000

72,000

Thus taking the inhabitants from the points farthest from the camp, as Assouan, they would require twenty days to come and as many to return. The fields of these unfortunate persons were thus abandoned for forty days; their harvests, perhaps, lost; their existence compromised. How could the imposts due from these families be obtained? roads are covered with prisoners, naked, a rope round their necks, linked two and two by the hands, and carrying sometimes round the throat, or the wrist, heavy shackles of wood. Horsemen, har* Nizam Guédite-new organization.

The

dened in this species of gendarmerie, drive back the wives and children of these poor wretches. These men, scarcely covered by rags, are extenuated with fatigue and hunger: their journeys alone are enough to unfit them for the service; they however appear resigned; it is, perhaps, from the excess of misery, or it may be the effect of fatalism, or of servitude.

If this were a general measure in time of war only, it would be less objectionable, but it is the result of the most frightful despotism, since the Egyptians do not all participate equally in it. The village chiefs, and the Turkish governors, fearing no control, and instigated either, by caprice, avarice, or personal predilec-, tion, plunge whole families in desolation,, by seizing upon the men, who drag after, them their women and children; so that these families are in a manner extinguished, swept out from the district they inhabit, while the favoured families have not been meddled with since the enrolling of the troops. One would think that it would be enough for the government, if the authorities furnished only the required number of recruits. Another abuse equally revolting is, that a man not accepted at the camp as disqualified for the service, is nevertheless recalled at each new levy, as if to make up the number; the man may be oneeyed, lame, or diseased, and his physical condition has not changed: is it not the very height of inhumanity thus to withdraw him year by year from his industry, for this idle muster, that may cost him his life?

INSTALLATION OF SOLYMAN TO THE
PACHALIC OF CANDIA.

THIS ceremony took place at Cairo, March 2, 1827. Mehemet Ali endeavoured to render it worthy of his renown and magnificence; and wished it, perhaps, to conceal the public misery from the eyes of this stranger. A brilliant retinue composed of the first dignitaries of Egypt, a field-day for the troops, the sound of warlike music, and public rejoicings, effected quite a general metamorphosis.

The twenty-second of March a new spectacle was presented to Solyman; that of a war in miniature. The army arrived from Dgiaad-Abad in the night, and by early dawn was drawn up in order of battle, in the broad and illustrious plain of Heliopolis, between the mosque of Coubbé and the chains of Mokkatam. The artillery reached the

ground at the same time, and were duly posted.

The tents of the pacha pitched in an amphitheatre, on an adjacent hill, were surrounded by more than twenty thousand spectators, attracted from the walls of the capital. The troops manoeuvred so excellently that the Pacha of Candia and his court were surprised. Solyman could not understand the rapid and complicated evolutions of the masses in closely serried columns, and the re-forming again of the same body in long lines of infantry without confusion or noise.

The view on either side was most imposing, a painter might have been embarrassed in the choice of his subject from the actors or the spectators. Imagine a broad, even desert, with high minarets and the ruins of antique mosques; in the centre two armies engaging in close combat, amidst whirlwinds of dust and beneath the fire of thundering artillery; and yonder on the heights a motionless assemblage of spectators, the thousand colours of their glittering attire presenting an infinite variety. From amongst these dense crowds rose lofty tents, surmounted by balls of gold. In every direction tramping steeds were held waiting in readiness, their rich harness radiant in the distance; at the base of the hill were to be seen the irregular cavalry of the Deftardar-bey, their disorder forming an animated contrast to the precision of the evolutions of the Nizams.

THE PACHA OF EGYPT AND HIS NAVY.

MEHEMET ALI by his vigorous decisions in regard to his navy had already produced good effect: the European officers did justice, and with admiration, to these changes and their results. The Pacha one day invited the commander of an English frigate to come out into the roads with the Egyptian sloops, upon the deck of one of which he was in person. The vessels manoeuvred against the wind. The Pacha made a signal to tack about; the English frigate took only two minutes for it, and his sloops six. Mehemet Ali watch in hand, said to the naval officers around him, "We are still but children; do you not see that in a fight these men would send us three broadsides for our one ?"

B. E. M.

INTOLERANCE OF NEW CONVERTS.

As no roads are so rough as those that have just been mended, so no sinners are so intolerant as those that have just turned saints.