rose a high cliff which echoed and added to the sound of the dashing waters; but not a living thing was in sight save now and then a solitary hawk which burst with a scream from his rocky erie and on arrowy wings darted into the sky in search of prey! Childe paused awhile, and gazed into the bosom of this romantic defile, for it was here that he had spent many -many happy boyish days-scaling the cliffs in search of the hawk's nest, and in watching the gambols of the trout in the comparatively still pools. While, however, Childe was reverting in dreamy imagination to the days of his childhood, a fine DEER, that had been couching behind a pile of lichened granite, suddenly bounded forth from his hiding place and darted like an arrow up the Vale of the Plym. The dogs followed and awakened the slumbering echoes with their deep mouthed bayings. Away-away fled the hunted animal! leaping with inconceivable agility over the rocks scattered in his way, and dashing through the windings of the stream. Sometimes the gallant brute, apparently aware of his superior fleetness would pause on some overhanging knoll, and gaze on his distant pursuers; but ever as they grew nearer he proudly tossed his antlered head, and bounded onward as if he rode on the wings of the wind. He was speedily lost sight of by the hounds but those sagacious creatures continued to trace the scent with unerring certainty, exciting each other by their cries of joy. Onward-onward panted the moorland deer with unslackened rapidity! Now and then he would stop for a moment near some fount at which he had been wont to quench his thirst in the dewy stillness of night, but not long did he linger round his beloved haunts, for the approaching cry of pursuit would swell upon his ear, and the hounds would stand before his piercing eye;-away he still careered with unabated energy, through the shaking bog, and along the rushy margin of the river, and soon he reached the romantic confluence of the Plym and Cad. He tarried not here; At one bound he was in the middle of the torrent,-the next placed him on the opposite bank,-he then toiled up the precipitous slope which rises in front of the ancient bridge of Shaugh, and soon attained the level tract of country that stretches away from the edge of that singular heathy promontory. The dogs on arriving at the brink of the Cad, lost all track of their prey, but Childe, who was not far behind, had glimpsed the animal as he disappeared above the crest of Dewerstone and he cheered the dogs up the hill following them with all the speed his noble horse was capable of. Still the hunted deer pressed forward with the speed of the eagle; he passed Plym-head and, after having traversed in his winding flight many miles of silent moor, he at last took refuge in the desolate Wood of Wistman, In the mean time the hounds, tired by the long continuance of the chase, had one by one laid down exhausted among the beath, and Childe having, vithout noticing it oustripped all his companions found himself alone in the very heart of the moor! lis horse flagged and refused to proceed, when Childe, perceiving the rashne of further pursuit, dismounted and gazed on the utter solitude that surrounded him! Dark and forbidding was the view that met the hunter's eye; on the one hand lay a vast and desolate morass bounded by a chain of broken hills whose heads were lost in the clouds; towards the North and East frowned a chaos of shattered tors, proudly lifting their crests to heaven as if to dare the fury of every tempest; close at the hunter's feet was a dreary valley through which wound a branch of the Dart; and the waters as they struggled between the giant masses of granite sent forth a hollow melancholy cadence. Not a living thing was in sight, nor was there around a peasant's cabin to cheer the mind with a thought of civilization. If earth was cheerless still more ominous was the aspect of the sky!There was a fearful meaning in the dark brown clouds; denser and denser they speedily became, and the sun, which for awhile continued visible as a ball of lurid dusky red, was soon lost amid the gathering gloom ;-the piercing wind moaned around with a voice prophetic of death, and Childe who in the ardour of the chase had not observed this change in the weather became all at once alive to the perils of his situation; his experience told him that a SNow storm was nigh, and to be overtaken by it in so forsaken a region was a thought that chilled his very heart's blood! He leaped again on his tired horse, and the generous animal, seemingly aware of his master's danger, exerted to the utmost his wearied sinews. Away went the horse and his rider with a swiftness which was indeed that of flee-ers from destruction, and wonderful was the strength with which that steed bore his master by glen and rock through fen and flashing torrent. But who shall picture the feelings of the hapless hunter when, far away from the haunts of humanity, he beheld the snow falling thickly around him when he knew that his horse was too weak to bear him to safety and that it was his lot to perish unfriended on the desert moor. Alas, the horrors of such a death!-Hope was soon crushed, for the storm grew fiercer, and in agony of spirit, thought Heaven had forsaken him; Dark― dark almost as night grew the atmosphere though it was not yet sunset; but now and then the fierce gale would, with a terrific rush, sweep away the flakes of death and, for a moment, reveal the forms of the hills which scowled white and ghastly around like shrouded spectres of the grave. The air was filled with the shriekings of the desert birds which had lost their way to their rocky eyries and to Childe their voices seemed those of spirits of destruction, around his devoted head, The snow soon ac quired depth, and was driven about by the fury of the wind like the foaming waves of the sea. Childe's horse, still staggered slowly forward, but on arriving on the exposed plain beneath Fox-tor the exhausted animal sunk with his rider, imprinting their form deeply on the white mantled Earth. Childe now felt that his hour was indeed arrived, but, still clinging of life, he conceived the idea of prolonging his existence by disembowelling his horse, and taking refuge within the slaughtered animal; he immediately executed this design, though even in this his last extremity, it cost him a pang to destroy the generous creature, which had exerted itself so much for his sake; the warmth of the dead horse could not long bar the approach of death, and Childe, aware of this, was agonised to think that his soul must depart unshrieved from its sins. Though already half sunk into the confused mistiness of death, he was terrified by this reflection into acute consciousness, and with the horse's blood he wrote on a fragment of paper that when his body was found, the church in which it might be buried should enjoy his possessions, on condition of offering up daily prayers for the repose of his soul. The gentle west wind breathed on the snow and it passed away as if touched by the wand of an enchanter. A Friar of Tavistock Abbey returning across the moor from a mission to the monks of Buckfastleigh observed the body of Childe: he still grasped in his cold hand the paper that contained his will, which the monk seized and conveyed to his Superior; a band of that powerful Abbot's vassals was instantly dispatched in search of the Corpse, which was conveyed to Tavistock, and interred with much pomp of ceremony in the Abbey Church. In process of time a Memorial as above described was erected on the spot where Childe was found and on it were graven these words in old English characters;— "The fyrste that fyndes and bringes mee to mie grave," "Che Priorie of Plime= stoke they shall have." The above inscription on the shaft of the Tomb was still legible when Risdon wrote his Survey of Devon. Devonport, 1827. H. E. C. No. 15. SYRIA. PASHALIC OF AKKA OR SEIDE. (From the Modern Traveller.) THIS Pashalie till the time of Djezzar Pasha, took its name from Seide or Sidon, which formed its capital. It was composed of the country of the Druses, and of the Coast from Nahrel-Kelb to Mount Carmel. The celebrated Arab chieftain, known by the name of Sheikh Daher, pushed his conquests so far, however, into the territory of the Pasha of Sidon, that he left him at last only that town, and from this he was driven. But on the fall of Daher, Djezzar, who succeeded the shiekh as pasha, seized on all his dominions, and enlarged the bounda→ ries of the pashalic by the annexation of the districts of Saphet, of Tiberias, and of Balbec, which had formerly belonged to Damascus, as well as of Cesarea. By this means, he reaped the benefit of the achievements of Daher, and Acre became from that time the capital of the province. As these events, though comparatively insignificant, are a specimen of the petty revolutions which are continually taking place within the Turkish empire, it may not be unacceptable to the reader to be put in possession of the outlines of the story as told by Volney. Daher (or Dahher sometimes spelt Dakher) the son of Omar, was a Bedouin Arab, belonging to one of those tribes who frequent the Valley of Jordan his family is said to be one of the most powerful in the district. On the death of his father, which occurred about the beginning of the last century, he shared the government with an Uncle and two brothers. His domain was Szaffad. To this, shortly after, he added Tabaria, which Pococke, in 1737, found him occupied in fortifying against the Pasha of Damascus, who a little time before, had caused one of his brothers to be strangled, in 1742 another Pasha, named Soliman-elAhdm, besieged him here, and bombarded the place, to the astonishment of all Syria, which at that time had little knowledge of such a mode of of warfare. Daher, in spite of his courage, was daunted, and was at the last extremity, when a fortunate event extricated him from his embarrassment. A sudden attack of the cholic carried off Soliman in two days, and Asad-elAhdin, his brother and successor, had not the same reasons or the same inclination to continue the contest. Daher was now left undisturbed, so far as regarded the Ottomans; but his restless Character involved him in disputes with his uncle and his brother. More than one affray between them took place, from which Daher came off conqueror; and he at length thought it expedient to terminate these contests by putting to death the parties. Being now invested with all the power of his family, and absolute master of his resources, he formed new schemes of ambition, The commerce which he carried on, made him sensible of the advantage of a direct communication with the sea, and he fixed his eyes on Acre as a port exactly suitable to his purpose. It was at that time only a miserable village, in the midst of ruins, open and defenceless. The Pasha of Sidon kept up the show of authority there by means of an aga and a few soldiers, but the whole of the adjacent territory was subject to the Bedouins. A pretext only was wanting, and that was soon afforded by the conduct of the Aga. One day, having obtained intelligence that the military stores,destined to be employed against him had been landed there the Sheikh marched suddenly towards Acre, dispatched to the Aga a threatening letter, which made him take to flight, and obtained possession of the place without striking a blow This took place about the year 1749. Sheikh Daher was then near Sixty three years of age; but, more than twenty five years after, he retained vigour sufficient to manage a spirited charger. This bold stroke entailed consequences which he did not fail to anticipate and provide against. He wrote immediately to the Pasha of Sidon, representing that what had taken place between him and the Aga was merely a personal affair, and that he was as much as ever the loyal THE SELECTOR. subject of the Sultan and the Pasha; that he would pay tribute for the districts he had taken possession of, as the Aga had done; and he engaged more over, to keep in order the Arabs, and to do all in his power to improve the condition of the country. His memorial, supported by a few thousand sequins, had its effect in the divans of Sidon and of Constantinople: they admitted the force of his arguments, and conceded all that he desired. Not that the Porte was the dupe of his protestations; but it is its economical policy, to temporise with its rebellious vassals, and, so long as appearances are kept up by their outward homage, to accept of what it can obtain in the shape of tribute, and patiently await the turn in the tide of events, that sooner or later is sure to rid the country of the petty despot; in which case, the Sultan never fails to have the largest share of the spoil. Daher, on the other hand, knew better than to confide in this apparent good-will of the Ottoman. Acre being wholly without defence, the enemy might take him by surprize either by sea or by land; and he resolved to provide against the danger. Under pretence of building for himself a house he began by constructing a palace, which he fortified. Then to protect the port, he built some towers on the coast; and, at length enclosed the whole town, on the land side, with a wall All this, sys Volney, passed among the Turks for works, although a thirty-gun frigate might have bombarded the whole coast without difficulty and four picces of artillery would have levelled wall and fortifications presently. But when ignorance is common to both assailants and the assailed, the chances are equal. After having taken these necessary precautions Daher turned his attention to improving the condition of the country, with a view to render it more productive. Partly by promises, partly by threats, sometimes by presents, at other times by force of arms, he succeeded in gaining over or subduing the Arab tribes who had infested these parts, and restored peace and security to the half depopulated country. The 53 without husbandman might now sow, seeing his crops destroyed by cavalry; might reap without seeing his harvest carried away by banditti. The fertility of the soil and the idea of personal security, operated as a powerful attraction. It spread throughout all Syria; and Mussulman and christian husbandman, every where else oppressed and despoiled took refuge in crowds under the protection of Daher, where they found both civil and religious liberty. At the same time Daher renewed his treaties of alliance with the chief tribes of the Desert, with the double view to provide himself a sure retreat in case of a reverse of fortune and to employ upon the them as a check of the power The MotouPasha of Damascus. alis had for some time given disturbance to the Pashas of Sidon and Damascus, by pillaging their territories, and witholding their tribute. Daher stepped forward as a mediator between the parties, offering to be security for the payment of their tribute. The proposal was accepted, by which means he secured the friendship of a people able to furnish 10,000 men bearing arms. (TO BE CONTINUED.) THE MIRROR'S ADDRESS TO A YOUNG LADY. Oh! Celia, with what anxious care, SPECULUM. That State is surely founded on the sands," Keep retributive Justice far aloof; Aurora smil'd when young Lorenzo bore His freighted vessel from Italia's shore: Hope cheer'd his bosom,-and his swelling sails By Eolas favor'd with Levantine gales :A Father's blessing, and a Mother's sighs Attend his first, his well plan'd enterprize, And speed his bark, as o'er the surge she flies. Each morn propitions to his ardent views, His destin'd course to Lisbon he pursues: And all was prosp'rous, till that fated hour The young advent'rer felt the hand of pow'r; Now Belem's bristled tow'r arrests his flight, And Lisbon rose in morning splendour bright; Prompt be obey'd the national decrees, And soon safe moor'd his gallant vessel sees; Secure from danger on that placid stream, And Fortune favor'd still his golden dream. His guiltless heart to honor's purpose true, Nor knavish arts, nor coward terrors knew. Oppress'd with toil, and labouring with thought, The renovating powers of sleep he sought; When at the solemn midnight hour of rest, Unconscious of his fate, the conch he press'd; A miscreant spy conducts an armed band, Points to his prey, and drags him to the land; And deep within a nanseous prison's cave, The hapless youth in felon fetters leave. The sole companions of his gloomy cell, Rapacious rats,-he had no power to quell: An animal of all the pests on earth, To which he bore abhorrence from his birth! Long was his conflict with his hated foes, 'Till wearied nature sunk in dread repose; When bolder grown, the hungry vermin pack, His finger's ends, his nose and ears attack; At length wish'd sleep his heavy eye-lids fled, And raving madness seiz'd his burning head; Whenlo! 'twas found by the dim light's admission The spy mistook the object of his mission! And all that now remain'd was to restore Their mangled victim to the world once more! Frantic and bleeding through the streets he flew, Whilst savage dogs his vagrant steps pursue; Without a friend his fest'ring wounds to bind, Or calm the anguish of his tortur'd mind: Robb'd of his all, and turn'd abroad to roam, The wretched wand'rer knew nor friend or home At length a good Samaritan was found, His wants relieved, his injur'd members bonnd. -Wounds of the flesh may soon repay his inerit |