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bounty of its founders, mindful of the future;
the coffee-house gives shelter, in its shady
balcony, to the reposing guests! All is calm, with
just so much air as cools and mellows the
sunshine, and leaves us to enjoy its brilliancy
unwearied; yet in one moment shall all this, and
all who live in it, be shaken to death and ruin;
one second more of the frequent earthquake,
one further strain of power, and even the fallen
ruins are engulfed, the sea-wave rolls over the
spot, and black floods burst forth from the
chasms in the soil.

There was one spot I often passed before I
knew its story. A cathedral with jingling
bells sent up a huge tower aloft, and around
its precincts quiet monks filled the numerous
chambers. The shops had their busy
occupants, and climbing vines made canopies over
the narrow ways; many a traveller has marked
the scene. One day, while I rested in a
counting-house near there, an aged merchant
told me how, in the great earthquake, his
family had occupied the house at the corner of
the cathedral yard. There they took refuge,
and, after the first shocks, sought repose. His
father, then a baby, lay on a mattress by a
servant. Suddenly the ground opened, drawing
in four men who lay next him, and, closing
again, entombed them for ever. I seldom
traversed the marble pavement but I thought
what if the earth should yawn again, as of yore!

In mere worldly things, none know what
eyes behold them, even in the open streets.
Those veiled Turkish women wander about
observant of all, and known to none. Yon
lady in a dove-coloured ferijee, whom you
cannot distinguish, is perhaps a bosom
confidante of your own wife. That coarse native
woman in crinoline, the suspicious Greek may
fear to be the governor-general in person,
disguised, watching evil-doers. He who
ventures forth at night does so at the risk of
encountering Haroun Alraschid and his
attendant, Mesrour; and if he stop at home
they may be listening under his windows. An
Armenian may be scared to death by an
unknown soap-vendor, who follows him about,
pressing soap and conversation on him, and
whom he believes to be the Sultan Caliph of
Islam so arrayed, or the Grand Vizier.

What seems and is not, or what is, who
knows in the East? Philosophy and theology
flourish on the borders between the real and
the imaginary. The power of magic comes to
relieve unsettled minds and to reassure the
vulgar, who are more numerous than the select,
if there be any select, who believe not in
magic and its kindred sciences. Islam could
not conquer magic; it only consecrated its
power and furnished it with new means of
incantation. The magi of the East are defunct,
but the magician of Africa, the Moor, the
Maghreli, rules with traditional might, adapts
the science, and weaves the cuneiform
characters of Babylon into his weird alphabet. All
Islam confirms the power of magic. What
the magician does to find stolen napkins or
bring back lost lovers, the dervish acknowledges
as potent to expel disease and restore
life. The great name of God may be written
in wondrous shapes. Here, such an emblem
protects a house from fire; there, in a tablet
it shields the tailor from the temptations of
dishonesty. It is over the doorway of the
mosque and the shop of the magician. The
magician is not now so favoured as of old,
but his shop is sometimes to be seen, with
specimens in the windows of white and holy
charms, horoscopes, tables of magic letters
and magic squares, ineffable names. I
remember one fellow's shop, and he had a
talking parrot hanging over the door. An
incredulous passenger remarked to me that the
the parrot was cleverer than the magician; but
the magician drove an excellent trade.

In warding off evil, securing fickle love,
promising children, curing sickness, and
discovering theft, the talisman-dealer, the magician,
and the astrologer, yet thrive throughout the
East. The gipsy is a missionary to be found
in every house. There is nothing too
impossible for credulity. A modern conjuror drew
five francs a head from a large community by
sending round his carte-de-visite, representing
him with his head at his feet. An intelligent
audience of educated persons was highly
indignant that this part of the performance did not
come off.

One marvel I have read in a veracious book:
to wit, that the heads of beheaded ladies and
slaves are to be seen floating down the
Bosphorus in hampers daily, wherefore people are
not allowed to catch fish, and are afraid to eat
fish. I have eaten fish and seen hampers, but
I never had the good luck to see a hamper of
ladies' heads, or to meet with any one who had.
One head would raise a mob of the women of


YARMOUTH, with its population of thirty
thousand herring catchers and eaters, stands on
the confluence of the Yar, the Waveney, and
the Bure, in the centre of a low sandy peninsula,
surrounded by those rivers and the German
ocean. The scenery on the Bure, as the crow
approaches Yarmouth, strikes that restless bird
as peculiarly Dutch. Towards the sea, the
pumps driven by wind are superseded by scoop
wheels driven by more resolute and active
steam. There are cattle swimming across the
river at Runham and Mantby, where the banks
are protected with flints; the water becomes
gay with flashing wherries; and presently there
appear houses with quaint gables and dormer
windows, lines of trees, and masts of ships
rising among roofs; presently sand-hills glisten
against the sun, and the curious crow's nest
look-out at Caistor shows conspicuously against
the sky. More gardens, orchards, and boats,
an old round tower, with a conical roof, on the
left bank, and the crow has Yarmouth all before
him where to choose.

The sea has not encroached upon the