the new convert; and it may be, one here and there drops a farthing or halfpenny, 'tis much if any be so zealous as to give a penny. After this show and ceremony is over, he is immediately entered into pay, and directed to the place where he shall quarter with some of his fellow-soldiers. Within a few days, the seunet gee of the town, (i. e. the circumcisor) comes and performs the ceremony of circumcision-and then he is a Turk to all intents and purposes. It is reported by some, that when any thus voluntarily turns Mohammetan, he throws a dart to the picture of Jesus Christ, in token of his disowning him as the Saviour, and preferring Mohammet. But there is no such usage, and they who relate such things do deceive the world. I am sure I have reason, (God pardon me!) to know everything in use among them of this nature, and I assure the reader there is never any such thing done. The cryer goes before with a loud voice, giving thanks to God for the proselyte that is made; and at some particular places of the city, especially the casharees, where many of the soldiers dwell together, the multitude hold up their hands, giving thanks to God.

"I was very much concerned for one of our countrymen, who had endured many years of slavery, and after he was ransomed, and went home to England, came again to Algier, and voluntarily, without the least force used towards him, became a Mohammetan.Another Englishman I knew, who was bred to the trade of a gun-smith, who, after he was ransomed, and only waited for his passage, reneg'd, and chose rather to be a Mussulman than return to his own country."

It was no small addition to the vexation and mental agony of poor Pitts, that he had to communicate to his relatives in Exeter, the fact of his having apostatized. About three months after his captivity, he had written a letter to his father, giving him an account of his misfortunes, and to this letter he had received a kind and affectionate answer. One passage made the iron of compunction enter more deeply into his soul—it was, (says he) "the very good counsel he gave me, to have a care and keep close to God, and to be sure never, by any methods of cruelty that could be used towards me, to deny my blessed Saviour; and that he had rather hear of my death than of my being a Mohammetan." The only cir cumstance that alleviated the pangs of remorse, was the fact that his father's

letter had not reached him until some days after he had been tortured into conversion. It also contained an offer of ransom, but this made the miserable captive "to weep with a more dejected heart and countenance than before," and declare to his master "he was no Turk, but a Christian." Whereupon, the latter exclaimed, "Hold your tongue, you dog, if you speak such a word again, I'll have a great fire made, and therein burn thee immediately."

In this sad plight, Pitts wrote to his father (which he could only do piecemeal and by stealth) giving him an honest account of the whole matter. "The substance of my letter was (he says), that though I was forced by cruelty to turn Turk, yet I was really a Christian in my heart. Some may term me hypocrite for so doing, but I'll not reply any more than this, that I speak it not to extenuate my sin, but to set the matter in a true light how I turned, and the reasons for so doing. And withal I assured my father and mother, that as soon as ever I could find an opportunity, I would endeavour to make my escape; and, therefore, entreated them to be as contented as they could, under their great trouble and affliction." One cheering consolation was imparted to his mind by this correspondence-his father's second letter, assuring him "that he had been with several ministers, who unanimously concurred in their opinion that I had not sinned the unpardonable sin.” The tender affection of the father displayed itself in a manner alike creditable to his head and his heart. writes:

He

"Truly, child, I do believe that what thou hast done with thy mouth, was not with thy heart, and that it was contrary to thy conscience. Take heed of being hardened in thine iniquity; give not way to despondency nor to desperation. Remember that Peter had not so many temptations to deny his Lord and Master, as thou hast had, and yet he obtained mercy, and so mayest thou. I can hardly write to thee for weeping, and my time is but short; and what shall I say to thee more, my poor child? I will pawn the loss of my soul upon the salvation of thine, that if thou dost but daily and duly repent of this thine horrid iniquity, that by the blood of that Jesus whom thou hast denied, there is sufficient satisfaction in him to save

thee to the uttermost, or otherwise let me perish! I will promise thee as welcome, upon thy return to me, and repentance, as though thou hadst never done it.

And if there be such bowels of pity in an earthly parent, what dost thou think of the boundless mercies of God, whose compassions are like to himself, infinite ?"

It was many years before Pitts found another opportunity of communicating with his friends in England, so rigid was the watch kept upon him. At Alexandria, when returning from Mecca to Algiers, he happened to meet with a countryman, a sailor, "belonging to Captain Bear's ship, of Topsham," and being an old acquaintance, he requested him to carry a letter, which he agreed to do; and, to escape detection," he hid the letter inside the ceiling of the ship." The epistle is short, merely noticing the fact of his having performed the grand pilgrimage, and expressing undiminished sorrow for his defection. It bore neither date nor seal, and for this curious reason, "the reader," says Pitts, "will excuse my not dating the letter, when I tell him that truly then I forgot the month and the year, because the Turks reckon after a different manner from us; and, therefore, I did not only omit the date of the letter, but sent it also unsealed, as the manner of sending letters is there; for, indeed, they are very illiterate, not one in a hundred being able to read, and, therefore, they run no great risks in sending their letters unsealed." After bewailing his fate that he had been a "heart-breaking" to his parents, "the bringer of their gray hairs with sorrow to the ground," he adds-" Your grief, though great, is but little to mine. Put it to the worst, you have lost but a son; but I, for my part, have lost both a dear father and a mother, brothers, relatives, friends, acquaintance, and all. But my greatest sorrow is, that God hath deprived me of his holy Scriptures, of any good counsel or discourse; for I see nothing but wickedness before mine eyes."

From the long period of his servitude, and his having to traverse various districts with the Algerines in their tents and camps, Pitts enjoyed favourable advantages for seeing the country, and the manners and customs of the inhabitants. Nor did he

fail to profit by these opportunities; for his descriptions are curious and accurate, although they are now to a great extent superseded by the observations of Shaw, Pananti, Salamé, Rozet, and many recent travellers, more especially in consequence of the French invasion, which has brought Europeans in daily conflict with the fierce and roving tribes of the desert. But in the seventeenth century, the habits and wanderings of the Moors and Arabs were little known, and, therefore, Pitts' account must have been received by his countrymen with all the interest and excitement of a romance. He describes most of the important towns which he visitedBleda, Millianah, Mazunah, Mostaganem, Tlemecen, Oran, Constantina, Bona, Bugia, Tunis, &c., the names of which are become familiar, through the razzias and despatches of the French generals. At Bleda, Pitts lived some years with his second patroon. He represents it as a pretty little town, with fine gardens, full of all manner of fruits, and plenty of water, insomuch that there were "grist mills" upon the river. It lies in the spacious plain of Matidjah, about twenty miles in length, and six or seven in breadth, with many farm houses, and several weekly markets. In this beautiful plain, it was the custom of the Turks, for their diversion, at that time, "to take their muskets, and make a progress, two or three in a company, for ten or twenty days' space, living at free quarters in the farm-houses, none daring to refuse them." Constantina, he says, "is the greatest and strongest town the Algerines have in all the eastern part of their dominions. It is situated on the top of a great rock, so that it needs no walls for its defence. It is difficult for horses to get up to it, the way being steps hewn out of the rock. Here the Turks keep a garrison, and the Bey hath his dwelling-house. The usual way of executing criminals here is, by pushing them off the cliffs.

Of Tlemecen he remarks, "it was a town of great note in former days, before Mohammet began his imposture. It abounds in all sorts of curious and delicious fruits; and the women and boys here are reputed the fairest in all the Algerine dominions,

even to a proverb. When I went into their great mosque, I admired the large door thereof, which was a folding door, and all solid brass, or bellmetal, with curious workmanship upon it. This gate, they say, was found by the sea side, and brought by a Marabout (or saint) upon his shoulders, which is about twenty miles, which Marabout lies intombed just before the said great door." His description of Algiers has nothing peculiar. The upper part of the town, he says, "looks from the sea, just like the top-sail of a ship. It is a very strong place, and well fortified with castles (seven of them without the walls) and guns. On the mole there are three tier of guns, many of them of an extraordinary length, and carrying forty, fifty, sixty, seventy, yea eighty pound shot. It hath five gates, some of which have two and three other gates within them, plated all over with thick iron. The wall is surrounded with a great trench, so that it is made strong and convenient for being what it is-a nest of pirates."

In his remarks upon the character and customs of the people, Pitts describes their superstitions, their religious ceremonies, their manner of eating, their marriages, funeral rites, mode of warfare, produce of the soil, &c. ; but his observations contribute little to what others have recorded at greater length. At table, he says, "all sit down cross-legged, as tailors do when they are at work on their shop-board; and every one says his grace, (more than thousands of Christians do!) and that is Bismillah—in the name of God; the same expression they use in every thing they set about, to the shame of those who pretend to more, and yet have not God in all their thoughts. I could here enlarge (he adds) upon the several sorts of their victuals, and their manner of cooking, which I am well acquaint with; but this would eat up too great a part of my little book." The women are not permitted to eat at table with their husbands, but must take whatever is given them. Their fare is generally bread and milk, and cusckasoo, "which is made of meal and water in a broad wooden platter, and then stirred about with the palm of the hand till it becomes like small seeds or gunpowder. Which being

done, they boil it over the fire on the mouth of a pot, with victuals, till it becomes altogether of a lump, when they turn it out into a platter, and beat it abroad, and so mix it with butter." Notwithstanding this "mean fare" and worse usage, wives manifested a great deal of sorrow for their deceased husbands. "Some, if they can get their garments dyed black, they will; but at least they will be sure to take a little oil or grease and soot, and therewith smut their faces almost all over, and make most hideous cryes and lamentations. And the neighbouring women do use to come and condole, it may be twenty or thirty of them together; who all place themselves round the woman who hath lost her relation, making so prodigious a noise as may be heard near half a mile off; all the while scratching down their faces with their nails, till they make the blood run down their cheeks. This they continue to do half an hour or more every day for a considerable space, and afterwards once a week, or as the fit shall take the widow; and thus in and out, it may be for a whole year. How sincere this their sorrow is it would be hard to tell; but if it be no more than that of some of our English widows is, it is wittily and truly described in Sir Roger L'Estrange's fable."

The manner of teaching their children is this:" Every one hath a thin board of oak, scorred white, to write on; their ink is commonly a little burnt wood mixt with water; their pen is made of a cane, for they hold it to be unlawful to write with a quill as Christians do. The scholar being thus furnished, after some few directions, the master speaks the boy's lesson, which is some of the Alcoran, and the boy writes it; which done, he is not only bound to read it, but to learn it without book. And this he is to do every day, till he hath retained a considerable part of the Alcoran in his memory. The boy having learned his day's lesson, rubs it out, and then whitens his table again to write down the next day's lesson." The correction or punishment for scholars, and for children at work, was beating them on the bare feet. Their veneration for the Koran is excessive. They call it Calam Allah-the Word of God; and, says Pitts, "on the ferrel of it

there is written, (commonly in golden letters), touch not without being clean or washed. They will not suffer it to touch the ground, if they can help it ; and if it chance at any time to fall, they check themselves for it, and with haste and concern recover it again, and kiss it, and put it to their forehead in token of profound respect. When they hold it in their hands, they'll never hold it below their middle, accounting it too worthy to be touched by any of the lower parts. If they are going a journey, and carry it with them, they will be sure to secure it well in a sear-cloth or cloth bag, hanging it under their arm-pits. Nay, I have known many that could not read one tittle of it, to carry some part of it always about with them, esteeming it as a charm to preserve them from hurt and danger."

The Moors are described as a people much given to sloth, "so very lazy that they make their wives saddle their horses. After sowing time, they have nothing to do, nor betake themselves to anything, but only wait for the harvest. When their corn is cut, and brought all together, they immediately

tread it out, and winnow it, and then put it into great pits in the open field, with straw at the bottom and sides, and dug all round, of some depth. They never dress or dung their grounds as we do, and yet they have great plenty ; for it is a common thing to see ten, fifteen, nay twenty stalks, shoot up together. Nay, I have been told of sixty or more, which is very wonderful. This plenty is of wheat and barley, for rye and oats they have none." In the interior, the sight of a Christian was new and strange to the natives. "I remember," says Pitts, "when I was journeying with my patroon from Bona, which is some hundreds of miles eastward of Algier, we did every night quarter in the Moors' tents; and the Moors, both men, women, and children, would flock to see me; and I was much admired by them for having flaxen hair, and being of a ruddy complexion. I heard some of them say,

Behold! what a pretty maid it is l' Others said, 'I never saw a Nazarene before; I thought they had been like unto swine, but I see now they are children of men.'

M. B.

In our analysis of the ORLANDO FURIoso, we have omitted all mention of the subordinate adventures of Ariosto's numberless heroes and heroines, satisfied that the study of the poem will be most aided by endeavouring to fix the reader's attention on the three main streams of narrative which we have indicated, and with one or other of which every more minute incident will be found connected. Of these we have already detailed the loves of Rogero and Bradamante; and we have pursued the adventures of Orlando to his restoration from the overwhelming calamity which gives its name to the work, and the description of which is the most appalling proof of poetic power which perhaps exists in any poem of any age or country. The third and main subject of the poem is Charlemagne's repulsion of the Saracenic invaders from France; and this is a part of the work to which we think that justice has scarcely been done. Ariosto is the first poet who has dealt with Charlemagne as a man; and, accordingly, in his poem alone does he appear to any advantage. Wonders upon wonders are so accumulated by the rhymers and prosers who had first delineated this really great man, that, to exhibit him in his true dimensions, showed some boldness; and Ariosto's success has justified his deviations into the language of possible truth from the marvellous legends which he found, and which, on a less important occasion, he would have delighted to imitate, and perhaps exaggerate. Turpin had described Charles with dark hair, ruddy countenance, with a stern aspect but his form graceful and elegant. It is well that the worthy archbishop has filled up these outlines, as we might have pictured to ourselves something very different from his notion of grace and elegance. His hero's legs were thick-he was eight feet high and his belly would have done honour to any alderman. It seemed impossible to the old romancers that

an empire so extensive as Charlemagne's should not have (required a giant for its ruler. Turpin, too, makes him consume food enough at each meal to have satisfied the wants of even a larger animal frame than he has given him; but the great emperor has more serious causes of complaint against those who have undertaken to give us his picture-for they had formed their notions of living by dignity and kingly intellect from Lewis the Fat, and Lewis the Foolish, and Lewis the Pious, and Lewis the Stammerer-and united in the person of Charles, the faults and the follies of all.

Ariosto has used him better; for though there is little reason to doubt that the character of Charlemagne in his and Boyardo's poem, and the leading incidents, are made up by uniting into one his grandfather Charles Martel and his brother Carloman; yet this identification was not beyond the rightful privileges of the poet, and at all events associates him with more respectable company. The identification of Charlemagne with his brother, in all probability, originally arose from mistake, although we think nothing could be more natural than to ascribe intentionally to the greatest man of a tribe or race all the qualities that exhibited themselves in any branch of the same stock.

"It is," says Michelet, "a mistake to suppose that Charlemagne is the translation of CAROLUS MAGNUS. Charlemagne is a corruption of Carloman— KARL-MANN-the strong man. In the chronicles of St. Denys we find Challes and Challemaines for Charles and Carloman (maine being the French corruption of mann, as lana makes laine, &c.) A still more decisive proof occurs in the chronicles of Theophanes, who calls Carloman Καρουλλόμαγνος; both brothers then bore the same name."

So says Michelet; and it is not easy to imagine a more pregnant element of confusion. The probability of the adventures of Charles Martel being