minor plague of Egypt, Ophthalmia, was precisely the method common in this country, and was generally attended with success where the remedies were applied in time. Nothing can be conceived more dreadful than was the situation of the military mission in the Turkish camp; exposed to a mutinous Turkish soldiery, to infection, famine, and a scene of the most abominable filth and putrefaction and this they endured for a year and a half, with the patience of apostles of peace, rather than war. Their occupation was to teach diseased barbarians who despised them, and thought it no small favour that they should be permitted to exist in their neighbourhood. They had to witness the cruelties of despotism, and the passions of armed and ignorant multitudes; and all this embellished with the fair probability of being swept off, in some grand engagement, by the superior tactics and activity of the enemy to whom the Turks were opposed. To the filth, irregularity, and tumult of a Turkish camp, as it appeared to the British officers in 1800, it is curious to oppose the picture of one drawn by Busbequius in the middle of the sixteenth century: "Turcæ in proximis campis tendebant; cum vero in eo loco tribus mensibus vixerim, fuit mihi facultas videndorum ipsorum castrorum, et cognoscendæ aliqua ex parte disciplinæ; qua de re nisi pauca attingam, habeas fortasse quod me accuses. Sumpto habitu Christianis hominibus in illis locis usitato, cum uno aut altero comite quacunque vagabar ignotus: primum videbam summo ordine cujusque corporis milites suis locis distributos, et, quod vix credat, qui nostratis militiæ consuetudinem novit, summum erat ubique silentium, summa quies, rixa nulla, nullum cujusquam insolens factum : sed ne nox quidem aut vitulatio per lasciviam aut ebrietatem emissa. Ad hæc summa mundities, nulla sterquilinia, nulla purgamenta, nihil quod oculos aut nares offenderet. Quicquid est hujusmodi, aut defodiunt Turcæ, aut procul à conspectu submovent. Sed nec ullas compotationes aut convivia, nullum aleæ genus, magnum nostratis militiæ flagitium, videre erat: nulla lusoriarum chartarum, neque tesserarum damna norunt Turcæ."-Augeri Busbequii, Epist. 3. p. 187. Hanovia. 1622. There is at present, in the Turkish army, a curious mixture of the severest despotism in the commander and the most rebellious insolence in the soldier. When the soldier misbehaves, the Vizier cuts his head off, and places it under his arm. When the soldier is dissatisfied with the Vizier, he fires his ball through his tent, and admonishes him, by these messengers, to a more pleasant exercise of his authority. That such severe punishments should not confer a more powerful authority, and give birth to a better discipline, is less extraordinary if we reflect that we hear only that the punishments are severe, not that they are steady and that they are just; for if the Turkish soldiers were always punished with the same severity when they were in fault, and never but then, it is not in human nature to suppose that the Turkish army would long remain in as contemptible a state as it now is. But the governed soon learn to distinguish between systematic energy and the excesses of casual and capricious cruelty; the one awes them into submission, the other rouses them to revenge. Dr. Wittman, in his chapter on the Turkish army, attributes much of its degradation to the altered state of the corps of Janissaries; the original constitution of which corps was certainly both curious and wise. The children of Christians made prisoners in the predatory incursions of the Turks, or procured in any other manner, were exposed in the public markets at Constantinople. Any farmer or artificer was at liberty to take one into his service, contracting with government to produce him again when he should be wanted; and in the meantime to feed and clothe him, and to educate him to such works of labour as are calculated to strengthen the body. As the Janissaries were killed off, the government drew upon this stock of hardy orphans for its levies; who, instead of hanging upon weeping parents at their departure, came eagerly to the camp, as the situation which they had always been taught to look upon as the theatre of their future glory, and towards which all their passions and affections had been bent from their earliest years. Arrived at the camp, they received at first low pay, and performed menial offices for the little division of Janissaries to which they were attached : "Ad Gianizaros rescriptus primo meret menstruo stipendio, paulo plus minus, unius ducati cum dimidio. Id enim militi novitio, et rudi satis esse censent. Sed tamen ne quid victus necessitati desit, cum ea decuria, in cujus contubernium adscitus est, gratis cibum capit, eâ conditione, ut in culinâ reliquoque ministerio ei decuriæ serviat; usum armorum adeptus tyro, necdum tamen suis contubernalibus honore neque stipendio par, unam in solâ virtute, se illis æquandi, spem habet: utpote si militiæ quæ prima se obtulerit, tale specimen sui dederit, ut dignus judicetur, qui tyrocinio exemptus, honoris gradu et stipendii magnitudine, reliquis Gianizaris par habeatur. Quâ quidem spe plerique tyrones impulsi, multa præclare audent, et fortitudine cum veteranis certant." -Busbequius, De Re Mil. cont. Turc. Instit. Consilium. The same author observes that there was no rank or dignity in the Turkish army to which a common Janissary might not arrive by his courage or his capacity. This last is a most powerful motive to exertion, and is perhaps one leading cause of the superiority of the French arms. Ancient governments promote from numberless causes which ought to have no concern with promotion. Revolutionary governments and military despotisms can make generals of persons who are fit for generals: to enable them to be unjust in all other instances, they are forced to be just in this. What, in fact, are the Sultans and Pachas of Paris but Janissaries raised from the ranks? At present, the Janissaries are procured from the lowest of the people, and the spirit of the corps is evaporated. The low state of their armies is in some degree imputable to this: but the principal reason why the Turks are no longer as powerful as they were is that they are no longer enthusiasts, and that war is now become more a business of science than of personal courage. The person of the greatest abilities in the Turkish empire is the Capitan Pacha; he has disciplined some ships and regiments in the European fashion, and would, if he were well seconded, bring about some important reforms in the Turkish empire. But what has become of all the reforms of the famous Gazi Hassan? The blaze of partial talents is soon extinguished. Never was there so great a prospect of improvement as that afforded by the exertions of this celebrated man, who, in spite of the ridicule thrown upon him by Baron de Tott, was such a man as the Turks cannot expect to see again once in a century. He had the whole power of the Turkish empire at his disposal for fifteen years; and, after repeated efforts to improve the army, abandoned the scheme as totally impracticable. The celebrated Bonneval, in his time, and De Tott since, made the same attempt, with the same success. They are not to be taught; and six months after his death everything the present Capitan Pacha has done will be immediately pulled to pieces. The present Grand Vizier is a man of no ability. There are some very entertaining instances of his gross ignorance cited in the 133rd page of the travels. Upon the news being communicated to him that the earth was round, he observed that this could not be the case; for the people and the objects on the other side would This is a very spirited appeal to his countrymen on the tremendous power of the Turks; and, with the substitution of France for Turkey, is so applicable to the present times, that it might be spoken in Parliament with great effect. in that case fall off; and that the earth could not move round the sun; for if so, a ship bound from Jaffa to Constantinople, instead of proceeding to the capital, would be carried to London, or elsewhere. We cannot end this article without confessing with great pleasure the entertainment we have received from the work which occasions it. It is an excellent loungingbook, full of pleasant details, never wearying by prolixity, or offending by presumption, and is apparently the production of a respectable worthy man. So far we can conscientiously recommend it to the public; for anything else, Non cuivis homini contingit adire, &c. &c. &c. EDGEWORTH'S ESSAY ON IRISH BULLS. Essay on Irish Bulls. By RICHARD LOVEL EDGEWORTH and MARIA EDGEWORTH. WE hardly know what to say about this rambling, scrambling book; but that we are quite sure the author, when he began any sentence in it, had not the smallest suspicion of what it was about to contain. We say the author, because, in spite of the mixture of sexes in the title-page, we are strongly inclined to suspect that the male contributions exceed the female in a very great degree. The Essay on Bulls is written much with the same mind, and in the same manner, as a schoolboy takes a walk. He moves on for ten yards on the straight road, with surprising perseverance; then sets out after a butterfly, looks for a bird's nest, or jumps backwards and forwards over a ditch. In the same manner this nimble and digressive gentleman is away after every object which crosses his mind. If you leave him at the end of a comma, in a steady pursuit of his subject, you are sure to find him, before the next full stop, a hundred yards to the right or left, frisking, capering, and grinning in a high paroxysm of merriment and agility. Mr. Edgeworth seems to possess the sentiments of an accomplished gentleman, the information of a scholar, and the vivacity of a first-rate Harlequin. He is fuddled with animal spirits, giddy with constitutional joy; in such a state he must have written on, or burst. A discharge of ink was an evacuation absolutely necessary, to avoid fatal and plethoric congestion. The object of the book is to prove that the practice of making bulls is not more imputable to the Irish than to any other people; and the manner in which he sets about it, is to quote examples of bulls produced in other countries. But this is surely a singular way of reasoning the question: for there are Goîtres out of the Valais, extortioners who do not worship Moses, oat-cakes south of the Tweed, and balm beyond the precincts of Gilead. If nothing can be said to exist pre-eminently and emphatically in one country which exists at all in another, then Frenchmen are not gay, nor Spaniards grave, nor are gentlemen of the Milesian race remarkable for their disinterested contempt of wealth in their connubial relations. It is probable there is some foundation for a character so generally diffused; though it is also probable that such foundation is extremely enlarged by fame. If there were no foundation for the common opinion, we must suppose national characters formed by chance; and that the Irish might, by accident, have been laughed at as bashful and sheepish; which is impossible. The author puzzles himself a good deal about the nature of bulls, without coming to any decision about the matter. Though the question is not a very easy one, we shall venture to say that a bull is an apparent congruity and real incongruity of ideas suddenly discovered. And, if this account of bulls be just, they are (as might have been supposed) the very reverse of wit; for, as wit discovers real relations that are not apparent, bulls admit apparent relations that are not real. The pleasure arising from wit proceeds from our surprise at suddenly discovering two things to be similar in which we suspected no similarity. The pleasure arising from bulls proceeds from our discovering two things to be dissimilar in which a resemblance might have been suspected. The same doctrine will apply to wit and to bulls in action. Practical wit discovers connection or relation between actions in which duller understandings discover none; and practical bulls originate from an apparent relation between two actions which more correct understandings immediately perceive to have no relation at all. Louis XIV., being extremely harassed by the repeated solicitations of a veteran officer for promotion, said one day, loud enough to be heard, "That gentleman is the most troublesome officer I have in my service." "That is precisely the charge (said the old man) which your Majesty's enemies bring against me." "An English gentleman (says Mr. Edgeworth, in a story cited from Joe Millar) was writing a letter in a coffee-house; and, perceiving that an Irishman stationed behind him was taking that liberty which Parmenio used with his friend Alexander, instead of putting his seal upon the lips of the curious impertinent, the English gentleman thought proper to reprove the Hibernian, if not with delicacy, at least with poetical justice. He concluded writing his letter in these words: 'I would say more, but a damned tall Irishman is reading over my shoulder eyery word I write.' "You lie, you scoundrel,' said the self-convicted Hibernian."-(P. 29.) The pleasure derived from the first of these stories proceeds from the discovery of the relation that subsists between the object he had in view and the assent of the officer to an observation so unfriendly to that end. In the first rapid glance which the mind throws upon his words, he appears, by his acquiescence, to be pleading against himself. There seems to be no relation between what he says and what he wishes to effect by speaking. In the second story the pleasure is directly the reverse. The lie given was apparently the readiest means of proving his innocence, and really the most effectual way of establishing his guilt. There seems for a moment to be a strong relation between the means and the object; while, in fact, no irrelation can be so complete. What connection is there between pelting stones at monkeys and gathering cocoa-nuts from lofty trees? Apparently none. But monkeys sit upon cocoanut trees; monkeys are imitative animals; and if you pelt a monkey with a stone, he pelts you with a cocoa-nut in return. This scheme of gathering cocoa-nuts is very witty, and would be more so if it did not appear useful: for the idea of utility is always inimical to the idea of wit.* There appears, on the contrary, to be some relation between the revenge of the Irish rebels against a banker, and the means which they took to gratify it, by burning all his notes wherever they found them; whereas they could not have rendered him a more essential service. In both these cases of bulls, the one verbal, *It must be observed that all the great passions, and many other feelings, extinguish the relish for wit. Thus lympha pudica Deum vidit et erubuit, would be witty were it not bordering on the sublime. The resemblance between the sandal tree imparting (while it falls) its aromatic flavour to the edge of the axe, and the benevolent man rewarding evil with good, would be witty did it not excite virtuous emotions. There are many mechanical contrivances which excite sensations very similar to wit; but the attention is absorbed by their utility. Some of Merlin's machines, which have no utility at all, are quite similar to wit. A small model of a steam engine, or mere squirt, is wit to a child. A man speculates on the causes of the first, or on its consequences, and so loses the feelings of wit: with the latter he is too familiar to be surprised. In short, the essence of every species of wit is surprise; which, vi termini, must be sudden; and the sensations which wit has a tendency to excite are im paired or destroyed as often as they are mingled with much thought or passion. the other practical, there is an apparent congruity and real incongruity of ideas. In both the cases of wit there is an apparent incongruity and a real relation. The It is clear that a bull cannot depend upon mere incongruity alone; for, if a man were to say that he would ride to London upon a cocked hat, or that he would cut his throat with a pound of pickled salmon, this, though completely incongruous, would not be to make bulls, but to talk nonsense. stronger the apparent connection, and the more complete the real disconnection of the ideas, the greater the surprise, and the better the bull. The less apparent, and the more complete the relations established by wit, the higher gratification does it afford. A great deal of the pleasure experienced from bulls proceeds from the sense of superiority in ourselves. Bulls which we invented, or knew to be invented, might please, but in a less degree, for want of this additional zest. As there must be apparent connection and real incongruity, it is seldom that a man of sense and education finds any form of words by which he is conscious that he might have been deceived into a bull. To conceive how the person has been deceived, he must suppose a degree of information very different from, and a species of character very heterogeneous to, his own; a process which diminishes surprise, and consequently pleasure. In the above-mentioned story of the Irishman overlooking the man writing, no person of ordinary sagacity can suppose himself betrayed into such a mistake; but he can easily represent to himself a kind of character that might have been so betrayed. There are some bulls so extremely fallacious that any man may imagine himself to have been betrayed into them; but these are rare; and, in general, it is a poor contemptible species of amusement; a delight in which evinces a very bad taste in wit. Whether the Irish make more bulls than their neighbours is, as we have before remarked, not a point of much importance; but it is of considerable importance that the character of a nation should not be degraded; and Mr. Edgeworth has great merit in his very benevolent intention of doing justice to the excellent qualities of the Irish. It is not possible to read his book without feeling a strong and a new disposition in their favour. Whether the imitation of the Irish manner be accurate in his little stories we cannot determine; but we feel the same confidence in the accuracy of the imitation that is often felt in the resemblance of a portrait of which we have never seen the original. It is no very high compliment to Mr. Edgeworth's creative powers to say he could not have formed anything, which was not real, so like reality; but such a remark only robs Peter to pay Paul; and gives everything to his powers of observation which it takes from those of his imagination. In truth, nothing can be better than his imitation of the Irish manner. It is first-rate painting. Edgeworth and Co. have another faculty in great perfection. They are eminently masters of the pathos. The firm drew tears from us in the stories of little Dominick, and of the Irish beggar who killed his sweetheart. Never was any grief more natural or simple. The first, however, ends in a very foolish way; formosa superne Desinit in piscem. We are extremely glad that our avocations did not call us from Bath to London on the day that the Bath coach conversation took place. We except from this wish the story with which the conversation terminates; for as soon as Mr. Edgeworth enters upon a story he excels. We must confess we have been much more pleased with Mr. Edgeworth |