offer to their landlord and landlady those symbols of plenty and wealth of the fruitful soil, and, in doing so, pronounce a blessing. Next this act follows a national circle dance, the landlord leads the first pair, with one of the rustic Floras, his guests and peasants behind him; and thus, in mirth and joviality, they drink, sing, and dance the whole night away, the starry blue heavens over their heads, the green turf under their feet. Some of the more ingenious in this Saturnalian company, display a wit in making extempore stanzas, which they sing, adapted to their known melodies, and some of those productions are truly humorous, and burlesque, ridiculing the peasants, the landlord, and often the monarch himself. You would perceive in the midnight darkness, the virgins steal to the hallowed fountains. You would hear there the music of an old song, like a breeze," that breathes upon a bank of violets," chaunted in a low and languid voice, but too loud to be unheard in the dewy night. You would see them holding converse with the murmuring waters, and sighing to them the secrets of their heart-ask counsel and return consoled-and ween that thus they had removed the veil from their future destinies. Some old customs and usages, even the eagerness of religion itself was not able to extinguish; and the clergy, severe at first, were at last forced to yield to their intrusion, and let them mix with the ceremonies of the Christian Faith. Thus you would see the wedded pair go and return from the church with music and song. The songs are addressed to Leda, Goddess of Love, to the moon, to the stars. The bride wears on her head a wreath of evergreen wasilok and ruba, and is praised in songs as Queen. Amid shouts of joy, and waving of banners, she proceeds with her bridegroom to the White Hall, to bow there before the patriarchal landlord, and receive from him presents. On those, and such-like occasions, you would hear the songs of olden times revived; and hence you may conclude that a great deal of traditional poetry is circulating amidst our people, and it represents the image of the social and religious life of the old Sclavonians. Its spirit upon the whole VOL. X. is twofold, either amorous or heroic, its subject being love or power; but love and power of times that are no more, and over whose tombs a mourn➡ ing spirit strikes his charming string, at times bold, at times tender, but almost always in a slow, mournful, and me lancholy strain. This grief with joy. is common to all people, whose deeds, as well as existence, are of yore; whose glory is a pleasing past dream, and whose true and real life. we do but see on the dead pages of history. Several collections of the remains of these old songs have been made with us, but in many respects they are far behind your Border Minstrelsy. The richest and finest harvest of them has been gathered among the Sclavonian tribes under the Turkish Government. Their easy, and rather pastoral than agricultural life, under a soft and mo❤ derate climate, fits well for the poetical pastimes, and raises them high in poe try and music, above all their northern brethren; whose habitations, the nearer they approach to the frozen regions, the closer seem to be wrapt in silence. The South-Sclavonians kept constantly in political isolation from the rest of Europe, or far from being influenced by the foreign and refined literature; their mind, therefore, unfolds itself independently, and pours forth treasures of ideas and feelings of its own. Some pieces of their poetry, which must needs be as original as its sources are unalloyed, are of an exquisite beauty, and were appreciated, and thought even worth translating, by men of such a repute as Ferder Goethe, and Bradrinski. Of the tender king, the Wife of Assan-Agi is undoubtedly the finest specimen of elegiac traditional poetry. It is in the Morleo-Sclavonic dialect, and has been translated into different European languages. The Servians excel principally in celebrating deeds of arms. There exist with them numerous warlike songs in praise of their old kings and heroes, down to the famous George Ozermy; and praises await now the victorious prince Ypsalanty. He fights in the sacred cause of freedom, as the former did; and the defenders of freedom among the Sclavonians never were left unsung. Thus many remains of old minstrelsy are scattered over all the Sclavonian countries, in songs and oral traditions of the people; which, if gathered to T its greatness and glory-A sigh, which heard by a wanderer of Vistula, on the banks of Thames, or along the Forth, recalls to his mind all his home-bred sympathies." He consoles himself in the Pleasures of Hope, reads Lochiel, and sheds tears over the immortal pages, as the generous bard did at the injured shrine of Humanity. gether, combined with the annals of their history, interwoven with the tendency of the real character and existence of Sclavonians, would furnish materials, if not for the general, at least for the local, national poetry. Its sources, although they are not so rich as in Scotland, are nevertheless more extensive than those of any European people. And where are the limits to I know that you like to consider man them? From the sources of the ri- under different aspects, and trace his ver Elbe and the Baltic, till the Black moral being through the history of the Sea, from the Adriatic Sea till the re- manifold exertions of his mind, and motest boundaries of Northern Asia, social relations. I know that you take what an immensity of lands! And of him the highest and most exteneverywhere dwell the Sclavonian inha- sive view, from which you easily mark bitants; and in how countless tribes! the mysteries of his divine origin and And each individual among them has destination; therefore, I hope, it will his five senses, through which he re- not be unpleasing to you that colouring, ceives external impressions-has a brain however little it be, of the great image that vibrates with thought-has an of my kindred nation, a nation that heart that overflows with joy and woe occupies more place on the globe than -has passions that carry his being to pages in the history-that contains in actions worthy of an angel or a demon. itself an embryo to the fulfilment of Besides, what riches of ideas must pour its great moral and political designs; forth from their different social rela- a nation that, in its various and almost tions to each other, and to Deity! Tru- innumerable tribes of which it is comly a richness of sources that is amazing posed, under different climes and gofor a systematical observer, and rather vernments, in spite of disdain and fomore fit for the irregular ecstacy of an reign oppression, did not lose the proenthusiast, or a high-minded poet.-totype of its original character,-had There should be born Sir Walter Scotts, to recal from beneath the mountaintombs, (Kurhany) overgrown with moss and weeds, the bold spirit of the old Sclavonian chivalry. There should be born Burnses and Ettrick Shepherds to give us an ideal of agricultural and pastoral life; and born should be those also, for whom followed for many centuries, and follows till now-a-days, its own class of ideas, and is particular in its social virtues-whose principles of morality consist in paternal sayings planted from fathers down to their grand-childrenwhose poetry is chiefly in songs adorned with images and shades of pastoral and agricultural life,-whose music is like a uniform wailing of orphan-children, who even in their revelry seem not to forget that they revel on the tombs of their venerable sires; a nation that lives on the produce of its fruitful soil almost alone, or on its numerous flocks, and disdains all commercial traffic as sordid; that is poor in its stores, but rich in kindness, and warm in hospitality,-whose scattered tribes look with bitter hatred on a foreign yoke, and are stubborn to acknowledge over themselves any other law imposed, except their ancient usages and customs, which they revere; whose leading character is mildness, submission, and fidelity to their legitimate superiors-cordiality hetween the remotest relations of one family-high respect to the grey patriarchal hair-particular love to their country, and valour in defending its rights. Of this many instances are extant, worthy to be noticed as high examples in the history of patriotism. Some defended gloriously their liberties, and, prodigal of blood and lives, took vengeance on those who dared encroach upon them. Some, who could not restore freedom to their country, exiled themselves for ever, and in other parts of the world sought hospitality and tombs. Some enrolled themselves under foreign banners, bled, guided by glimpses of a deceitful hope, crowned with laurels, if not their valorous temples, their glorious tombs. Death itself seemed to them a victory, who could not endure to see the land of their forefathers groaning in slavery, and to whom a life without freedom was worse than death. Such is the spirit and tendency of mind common to each people of SelaI vonian race; to those who boast to have their own free government, or are grown up to great political power, as to those who dispersed in various laws. This similarity of character can be accounted for but by their common origin alone, and consanguinity; according to which, should it ever be possible to unite all the family members into one whole, they would, at the circle of their home, and at the same tutelary hearth, reassume their national character in all its purity, and by its saluary influence, rise in mildness and strength to the splendour of moral dignity and greatness. These are the short and desultory Your most obedient C. L. S. climates, led a precarious existence, as Edinburgh, 28th July, 1821. subject to foreign governments and ZABOY, SLAWOY, AND LUDECK. A Sclavonian Tale. (Translated from the Bohemo-Sclavonian Dialect.) AMIDST a dark wood appears a rock. On the rock appears the valiant Zaboy. He looks around on all the lands beneath-looking, sighs and weeps, with dove-like tears. Long there he sits, and long is sad. At once up he starts, and like a stag springs down the rock. He runs through the wood, through the wood's long solitary wild. He speeds then from man to man, from warrior to warrior, through all the country. Few words, and in secret, he speaks to each and having bowed in thanks to God, he swift returned to his friends. Thus passed the first day, thus the second; but, as the moon arose on the third night, the warriors gathered to the dark wood. To greet them, Zaboy descends into the glen-into the deepest glen of the thickest wood. : from the bottom of my heart, where is the seat of bitterness. "The father is gone to his fathers. He left behind in his paternal hall his children and beloved wives. Dying, he told his will to none, (save to his. eldest brother :) Dear brother! thou mayest say to all with a father's voice: "A stranger will here force his way, and overrun our native land. In foreign tongue he will command, as he in other parts hath done. He will compel you to work for him-you, your children, and your wives, from the rising till the setting sun. And no more than one friend (wife) shall you have, all the onward way from the spring of your life till the grave. All the hawks of your woods they will scare away, and to such gods as in other countries are, will force you to bow and sacrifice. Ah, brethren! neither to strike our foreheads before our gods will we dare, nor reach them food, where our father wont to bring them offerings, where he raised his "Alas, dear Zaboy! thy song comes from the heart, and goes to the heart to a heart drowned in bitterness. Like Lumir, minstrel of yore, who enraptured Wyszogrod, and all the lands around; so thou hast touched me and all my brethren here. All good min strels are beloved by gods; from them thou hast thy song, to awaken courage against the foes.' Zaboy threw a look on Slawoy's kindled eyes, and retook his song: "Two sons, whose voices to manly strength had grown, went often to the wood. There they exercised their skill, in sword, battle-axe, and spear; there they concealed their weapons; but when their arms and mind gained strength, they with joy retook them to take the field against the foe. Fol lowed they were by other manly brethren, and together gave front to the foe. There was a fight like a stormy heaven, but the bliss of former days returned to their home.". All at once they sprung into the dale towards Zaboy. Each one pressed him in his sinewy arms. Then, from breast to breast they passed their hands, and exchanged gathering words. And the night approached to the dawn. They left the dale, each going lonely. To every thicket to all sides of the wood they went. One day passed, and so another; and whilst the night darkened on the third, Za boy proceeds to the woods, and through the woods behind him follow hosts of warriors; each of them true to his chief; each with a heart too stubborn to obey a foreign king; each with a sharp weapon. 66 Now, Slawoy, dear brother! on to yon blue mountain's brow; its summit overlooks all the lands around. On, let us bend our steps from the hills to the morning sun, (to the east). There is a gloomy wood; there our hands may plight faith. Now, go thou thither with fox's steps; I'll follow thee behind." "Ah, Zaboy! trusty brother! why is it, that our swords must, from the top of the mountain, begin dreary battles? Rather from this spot let us seek our foes, king's slaves!" "Slawoy! dear brother! wilt thou crush a viper, on its head put thy foot, and there is the head." Dispersed to the right and to the left, the warriors proceed through the wood. Here they range at the words of Zaboy, there at the words of Slawoy, their chiefs; and so move, beneath the gloom of the trees, onward to the blue heights of the mountains; and, after three suns had passed, they reached to each other their vigorous hands, and spied, with the fox's look, the king's warriors. "Ludeck, range thou thy warriors unto one (battle). Ludeck, thou art slave above all slaves to the kings. Tell thou thy savage tyrant, that his orders are smoke to us. And Ludeck kindled in wrath.Straight with one call gathers his warriors. Full light is beneath the heavens. Each way in the sun-beams the spears of kingly power glitter bright. Ready they are to go where Ludeck goes, and to strike where he commands. Now, Slawoy, dear brother! haste thither with fox's steps. I'll go and strike them in the front." And Zaboy struck in the front like hail; and Slawoy struck in the side like hail. "Alas, brother! they are those who have broken our Gods; felled down our groves; scared away our hawks. Gods will give us victory." And a front of numerous hosts, headed by Ludeck, rushes against Zaboy; and Zaboy, with flaming eyes, rushes against Ludeck. Like oak against oak, seen both above the other trees. Zaboy presses to Ludeck alone.— Ludeck strikes with a heavy sword, and cuts through the threefold fells of his shield. Zaboy strikes with an axe. Ludeck swiftly avoided the blow. Towards the tree fell the axe. The tree falls down on the warriors, and thirty of them go to their fathers. Ludeck in wrath: "O thou baleful seed! thou great monster of serpents! with a sword fight with me." Zaboy grasped the sword, and cuts from his foe's shield a corner. Ludeck, too, grasped his sword; but the sword slips down the iron shield. Both kindle in fire to wound each other. They cut in rags all they had on; spread with blood all around them with blood all the warriors, and all that was in that gory battle. The sun passed the noon, and from noon to the evening half way-yet they fought. Neither here nor there yielded any one; every where lasted Slawoy's deadly strife. "O, thou foe! Fiend is in thee; wherefore dost thou drink our blood?" Zaboy grasped his axe, and Ludeck sprung back; he lifted the axe up, and threw it at his foe. The axe flies; to shivers breaks the shield, and beneath the shield Ludeck's breast.-The soul shrunk at the heavy blow. It chased the soul from the body, and flew five furlongs amidst the army.-Fright out of the throats of foe forced shrieks; and joy rung from the lips of Zaboy's warriors, and sparkled in their eye. "Now, dear brother! Gods gave us victory. One band of your's may speed to the right, one to the left. Let them bring coursers hither, hither from every dell." The horses neigh in all the. woods-"Zaboy! dear brother! Thou art a lion without fear. Cease not from the bloody work." At this Zaboy threw away his shield. In one hand he takes an axe, in the other a sword, and wielding them from side to side and forward, cuts a way amidst the enemies. They shake with fear, and flee the field. Fright out of the throats of the foe forced shrieks. The horses neigh through all the woods. "To horse, to horse! On horses pursue the foe! Through all the lands drive them. Let us carry amongst them terror and destruction." And fierce they sprung on their fiery steeds. Hard behind they press upon the foemen. Wound on wound they inflict; heap slaughter on slaughter. The vallies, the hills, the woods pass by-to the right and to the left-all flies behind. Lo! There the holy river murmurs by. Wave towers over wave. The warriors shout shrill, and close step in step press on each other. Together they cross the foaming stream. Its waves had borne many a foreigner, (foe) down; but their own friends in safety carried to other banks. The cruel kite spreads in breadth and length its long wings over the lands, and keenly darts on each bird. The warriors of Zaboy, dispersed in bands, chased the foe far and wide over the country. Every where they killed and crushed them beneath their horses' hoof. In the night, under the moon, they hung on their back; in the day, under the sun, they hung on their back; and again, in the dark night, and after the night, in the dawn of the day every where they hung on them. The holy river murmurs by. Wave towers over wave. All shout shrill, and close step in step follow each other. Together they cross the foaming stream. Its waves had borne down many a foreigner, (foe); but their own friends in safety carried to other banks. "Go on! thither to the grey mountains. There will end our vengeance! O, Zaboy! dear brother! behold the mountains; already they are not far off, and few are our foes; and even those implore our pity. Turn to yonder side; thou hither, I thither, to knock down all that is kingly! The winds blow destruction through all the villages: the armies bring desolation through the villages-through the villages to the right and to the left. On, warriors, on! with broad strength, and with cry of joy. "O, dear brother! There the broad top of the mountain. Gods gave us this victory; and there many a soul lingers, hovering unsteady on the trees -a terror to the birds and timorous beasts; the owls alone they fear not them. There upon this summit let us bury the dead, and give food to the pious. There let us bring rich offerings to Gods, who gave us again our freedom. Let us sing them pleasing words, and heap up the spoils of the conquered foe.' MEMORANDUM OF THE PROCEEDINGS OF THE EXPEDITION AGAINST THE PIRATES OF THE GULF OF PERSIA. A. D. 1819-20. THE state of society in Arabia seems to have continued nearly the same since the first mention of that country in history. The population is divided into tribes, or clans, which are each sprung from one stock, and governed by an independent chief, the head of the family. There are two principalities, however, in the peninsula, which may be considered innovations on the patriarchal form of government. The one |