Some difficulty arose as to who I should select to accompany me. Madame Franchini, was objected to by my Austrian friends, as too great a proof of the Court arrangements being under Russian influence; Reschid Pacha undertook to interpret, and it was suggested that I might go alone. This, however, seemed inconvenient; I therefore proposed to Mrs. Walker, the wife of Captain Walker, the Turkish admiral, to go with me: she gladly accepted; and at eleven o'clock, on a cold snowy morning, we packed ourselves into a small close carriage (the first covered one I had seen in Turkey), which Reschid Pacha kindly sent; and we set out, preceded as usual, by guards and keevochees, whose business it is to be always in attendance, armed with swords and pistols, to keep off the crowd of true believers that fill the streets and press with eager curiosity to gaze on the Franks.

The road, like all others in this country, was dreadful, and we were shaken to pieces; but after a long descent down a steep declivity, we found ourselves at a palace, presenting a long façade to the sea, on the Pera, or European side here we were shown through an open court, the guard being turned out. In Turkey, the outward slippers are left at the door, the floor being covered with the finest mats, the rooms carpeted, and not a speck or particle of dust is to be seen.

We entered a small waiting-room, where we found some Austrian officers also expecting their audience. They informed me of what I had not discovered, that, for some reason the place named had been changed; and that I was not, as I imagined, in the Ischeragan Palace, but in the Beschititasche; that they had already gone to the former, and found no one there, and that there appeared to be a singular confusion in all the arrangements. Coffee was then handed to us in tiny cups, not containing above a thimbleful, but placed in the most beautiful little jewelled stands, or egg-cups, of pink enamel and diamonds. A large brasiero stood in the middle of the apartment, and a low embroidered divan ran round it.

At length the Maréchal du Palais came in, and some attendants. Coffee was again served, and soon after Reschid Pacha appeared. He speaks French perfectly; and having been ambassador in France and England, has become quite European. We waited some time; coffee was once more brought; and much whispering, confusion, and embarrassment followed. At length they all went away, leaving us with the Austrian strangers, who were much amused at the sensation produced by the apparition of Frank women within these walls. The Turks occasionally lifted up the curtain over the entrance into the room, and peeped in to gaze at us. I was en grande tenue as to toilette, and this added to their astonishment; Madame W- the only lady who was ever received before myself, had gone in a hat, and without her jewels, having unfortunately left them at Odessa; her audience, however, had been less en règle than mine, and had more the character of an accidental rencontre. A great step has been made, and probably this approach to civilization will continue to advance; and perhaps, in a few years, ladies will be received at this court as they are at any other.

At last Reschid Pacha, the Maréchal du Palais, &c., returned, having put on their diamond decorations, and after waiting again some time, for nothing in Turkey is ever done in a hurry, we were requested to follow them. I expected to enter some adjoining room in which the Sultan would be; but, to my surprise, I was desired to put on my furs, my clogs, and my cloak, and we followed the attendants down stairs, crossed an open court, and arrived at a long terrace, or garden, at the end of which was the palace. Luckily it had ceased snowing, but the cold was intense; I was then informed that the great officers of the palace had received orders to show us the apartments, and we were first conducted into a Kiosk, or Pleasure -house, of great beauty.

The courts of the palace were paved with marble, and a great room 150 feet long, with a large bow in the centre, the whole covered with the finest matting fitted up in the oriental taste, with a long line of lattices to the water, must be a delicious resting-place during the summer heats. While I was

shivering with cold, and gazing on the Asiatic coast, and the lovely view which even in that bleak and dreary month lay before me, a large square trapdoor in the floor was raised, and I heard a voice say, “Violà la mer, Madame !" scarcely believing my ears, I advanced, and effectivement, the deep green sea flowed under the splendid eastern gallery. A shudder came over me as I thought how readily that trap-door could close over any of its victims, and my blood ran cold as my imagination made the mute inquiry, who can tell on whom that barrier has shut for ever? I recalled these lines

"When weary of these fleeting charms and me,

Here yawns the sack, and yonder rolls the sea,"

and I turned away and gladly obeyed the summons to proceed. Such is the influence that the country one is in has over one's thoughts. In England I should have thought only of the delicious coolness of this invention during summer. In Turkey, the mind wanders over fields of romance and of imaginary horror.

Following the officers of the court, we crossed another flight of steps to the palace. The hall and stairs were matted, and lined with attendants in fez and caftan. We were then ushered through long suites of apartments, expecting every moment to enter the presence of the sultan: and, at length, on being shown into a small side anteroom, where I was the least prepared for the meeting, he walked quietly in and suddenly stood before us.

The usual fez was on his head, a large military cloak hung round him, clasped at the throat with a magnificent agraffe of enormous diamonds; a large solitaire was on his little finger. He is tall, pale, sallow, and slight, with fine eyes, a sweet smile, and amiable expression of countenance. He is only eighteen years of age. It is said he is learning French, and is much more au fait de tout ce qui se passe than is generally imagined. The Prince de Joinville, when here, saw and conversed much with him and lately a good deal has transpired as to his manner and ideas from a Russian painter who has just finished his picture, and with whom he had much conversation during his several sittings.

:

He did not bow, but immediately began talking to Reschid Pacha, who, having paid his homage, which is done by gracefully faisant semblant to pick up the dust from the feet, according to the expression, "Je baise la poussière," interpreted to me the Sultan's words. He expressed his pleasure and satisfaction at seeing me, and his hope that I had recovered from the fatigue of my journey; to this I replied. He then inquired if I had been at all rewarded for what I had suffered, and for the deprivation of the comforts and luxuries of England. I then requested Reschid Pacha to express my admiration of Constantinople, my gratification at my visit and reception, and my gratitude at having been allowed to see every thing that was curious and interesting.

to me.

The Sultan inquired if I had visited the Tscheragan Palace, and on my answering in the negative, he desired orders might be given for it to be shown He then inquired who the lady was who accompanied me, and on being told her name, he desired Reschid Pacha to express the pleasure he felt at having an opportunity of telling her how highly he valued her husband's services. After a happily worded reply from her, to the effect that she had equal delight in being able to assure his majesty that he had not now a more faithful servant than Admiral Walker, the Sultan expressed his regret at my intention of leaving Constantinople so soon, and then suddenly vanished.

I was reconducted to the door of the palace by Reschid Pacha and the Maréchal, who eagerly inquired what I thought of their imperial master. They seemed pleased with the praise and approbation I bestowed.

It would be doing injustice to this work to close our notice of it without marked reference to the curious and interesting conversations which it details (almost in the form of a verbatim “ report") between the noble writer and the most distinguished of European politicians,

Prince Metternich. They are no less interesting and valuable for their personal traits than for the glimpses they afford of the political tendencies of this extraordinary man. The anecdotes they include, too, of the celebrated Von Genz, who, after helping to sway for twenty years the political condition of all Europe, died not long ago at eighty years of age, literally for love of Fanny Ellsler, the dancer, will be read with interest.

Another feature of these volumes will excite no little gossip and discussion in the circles: we allude to the correspondence between Lords Londonderry, Ponsonby, and Palmerston, relative to an alleged slight put upon the former by our ambassador at Constantinople, in refusing to present him to the Sultan. The whole correspondence is curious and characteristic, and will be quite a bonne bouche for the quidnuncs of the clubs and the coteries.

DIARY OF MADAME D'ARBLAY.*

OUR hasty anticipatory notice of this volume last month conveyed so very inadequate a notion of the nature and value of its contents that we are tempted, in the dearth of literary matter which always occurs at this season of the year, to return to the subject,-the rather that the volume is by many degrees more important in an historical point of view than any one of its predecessors.

The first of its historical features which attracts attention is, as we have already stated, the details connected with the famous trial of Warren Hastings, a matter concerning which the world might well have been hopeless of hearing any thing new, so minute are the existing records regarding it. And yet we venture to say those voluminous records may be searched through, without affording any thing that, space for space, can compare, either in personal and moral interest, or in historical value, with the private conversations which take place on this topic, in the court itself, between Miss Burney and (after Burke himself) the most active and earnest of the public prosecutors of Hastings, the celebrated Whig leader, William Windham. A previous volume of the Diary had shown that Miss Burney had, during an acquaintance with him of some years' standing, received a very favourable impression of the private character and personal bearing of Warren Hastings; in addition to which prepossession she attended the trial at the express instance of the Queen, who, together with the whole court, was an almost open partisan of Hastings. And Fanny Burney was too warm a friend and too true a woman, to care or inquire too curiously about the political charges against a man she personally liked and respected. The consequence was that when, on her appearing in the Grand Chamberlain's box on the opening day of the trial, Windham, also an old and favourite acquaintance, came (direct from the prosecutors' box, and under the very eye, as she thought, of Hastings himself) to pay his respects to her, she fairly ran a muck at him, for his mingled cruelty and injustice in persecuting so amiable and mild

* Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay. Volume the Fourth.. Aug.-VOL. LXV. NO. CCLX.

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mannered a person as the prisoner at the bar, merely because he was said to have committed certain political enormities certain thousands of miles off! A series of conversations so commenced do not, the reader will say, promise much either of amusement or edification to posterity, whatever they may have done to the standers by. And yet, as we have said, there is nothing of equal length in the whole records of Hastings's trial that is so curious and so well worth preserving; because there is nothing else which goes so near to the pith of the matter as regards the motives and personal views and feelings of the chief promoters of that celebrated proceeding; and certainly nothing else has been preserved which is so characteristic of one of the most remarkable men of his time, as much of Windham's part of these singular conversations.

Miss Burney seems to have been aware of this, for she has reported the conversations with the minuteness of a modern shorthand-writer, and at a length that will be deemed inordinate by those readers respectively who think that nothing is worth minute description but the ball dresses of a court party, or the blackguardism and balderdash of a police-court.

Another special and most remarkable feature of this fresh volume of the most entertaining of Diaries is, the new and singularly curious information it affords us relative to the first attack of insanity experienced by George the Third in the autumn of 1788, its progress through the remainder of the year, and its happy termination at the close of February, 1789, when the volume itself closes. Of this portion of the Diary we gave a most curious and affecting specimen last month; we shall now give another, only premising of these revelations generally, what, we imagine, must be felt, if not said, by all who read them, and at the same time take into consideration the position of the sufferer, and the various collateral circumstances connected with those related—namely, that there is, of their kind, nothing else extant of so intense and absorbing an interest-few things more calculated to engender salutary reflections, or touch the feelings with that wholesome sadness which ever leaves the heart better than it finds it. We can scarcely tell which of the two is described with most force, truth, and pathos. Certain it is that each of them affects us like a scene in some consummate actor's performance of Lear-nay, there are passages uttered by the poor mad king in each scene, which might be paralleled, almost to the very words, in that most wonderful work of the prophet poet. There is assuredly nothing in tragedy itself more capable of the high office of "moving the soul by terror and pity," than the specimen we now offer of this portion of the Diary.

KEW PALACE, MONDAY, FEBRUARY 2D.-What an adventure had I this morning! one that has occasioned me the severest personal terror I ever experienced in my life.

Sir Lucas Pepys still persisting that exercise and air were absolutely necessary to save me from illness, I have continued my walks, varying my gardens from Richmond to Kew, according to the accounts I received of the movements of the King. For this I had her Majesty's permission on the representation of Sir Lucas.

This morning when I received my intelligence of the King from Dr. John Willis, I begged to know where I might walk in safety?

"In Kew Gardens," he said, "as the King would be in Richmond." “Should any unfortunate circumstance,” I cried, “ at any time, occasion my

being seen by his Majesty, do not mention my name, but let me run off without call or notice."

This he promised. Every body, indeed, is ordered to keep out of sight.

Taking, therefore, the time I had most at command, I strolled into the gardens. I had proceeded, in my quick way, nearly half the round, when I perceived, through some trees, two or three figures. Relying on the instructions of Dr. John, I concluded them to be workmen and gardeners; yet tried to look sharp, and in so doing, as they were less shaded, I thought I saw the person of his Majesty!

Alarmed, past all possible expression, I waited not to know more, but turning back, ran off with all my might. But what was my terror to hear myself pursued!-to hear the voice of the King himself loudly and hoarsely calling after me," Miss Burney! Miss Burney!"

I protest I was ready to die. I knew not in what state he might be at the time; I only knew the orders to keep out of his way were universal; that the Queen would highly disapprove any unauthorized meeting, and that the very action of my running away, might deeply, in his present irritable state, offend him. Nevertheless, on I ran, too terrified to stop, and in search of some short passage, for the garden is full of little labyrinths, by which I might escape.

The steps still pursued me, and still the poor, hoarse, and altered voice rang in my ears :—more, and more footsteps resounded frightfully behind me-the attendants all running, to catch their eager master, and the voices of the two Doctor Willises loudly exhorting him not to heat himself so unmercifully.

Heavens, how I ran! I do not think I should have felt the hot lava from Vesuvius at least not the hot cinders-had I so ran during its eruption. My feet were not sensible that they even touched the ground.

Soon after, I heard other voices, shriller, though less nervous, call out, "Stop! stop! stop!"

I could by no means consent: I knew not what was purposed, but I recollected fully my agreement with Dr. John that very morning, that I should decamp if surprised, and not be named.

My own fears and repugnance, also, after a flight and disobedience like this, were doubled in the thought of not escaping; I knew not to what I might be exposed, should the malady be then high, and take the turn of resentment. Still, therefore, on I flew; and such was my speed, so almost incredible to relate or recollect, that I fairly believe no one of the whole party could have overtaken me, if these words from one of the attendants had not reached me:

"Doctor Willis begs you to stop!"

"I cannot! I cannot !" I answered, still flying on, when he called out, "You must, ma'am ; it hurts the King to run."

Then, indeed, I stopped-in a state of fear really amounting to agony. I turned round, I saw the two Doctors had got the King between them, and three attendants of Dr. Willis's were hovering about. They all slackened their pace, as they saw me stand still; but such was the excess of my alarm, that I was wholly insensible to the effects of a race, which, at any other time, would have required an hour's recruit.

As they approached, some little presence of mind, happily came to my command; it occurred to me that, to appease the wrath of my flight, I must now show some confidence. I therefore faced them as undauntedly as I was able, only charging the nearest of the attendants to stand by my side.

When they were within a few yards of me, the King called out, "Why did you run away?"

Shocked fat a question impossible to answer, yet a little assured by the mild tone of his voice, I instantly forced myself forward to meet him, though the internal sensation which satisfied me this was a step the most proper, to appease his suspicions and displeasure, was so violently combated by the tremour of my nerves, that I fairly think I may reckon it the greatest effort of personal courage I have ever made.