634 
body of the tale—closing with the scenes of 
the seraglio, which involve the death of 
Selim and Mustapha, and the preservation 
of Mahmoud, the present very extraordi- 
nary and almost European sovereign of the 
Turks. 
A love tale is, of course, mixed up with 
the leading incidents, but constituting a 
very small part of the interest; and some 
scenes of the marvellous are introduced, 
which lead to no results, and are left unde- 
cyphered. The whole tale discovers great 
familiarity, however acquired, with the 
manners, country, story and character of 
the Turkish provinces. Pieces descriptive 
of natural scenery occur of great maguifi- 
cence, and episodical narratives of singular 
vivacity—particularly the story of the boat- 
man on the Danube, who had been high in 
office in the divan, and who afterwards 
figures as the dethroner of Mustapha, and 
the Vizier of Mahmoud. We have alluded 
to the descriptive—we give an instance. 
Hebe, the heroine, is with a priest on Mount 
Athos.— 
I have yet (says he) one grand curiosity to show 
to you. Follow me, and see the true wonder of 
the Hayon Haros (Mount Athos)—the most mag- 
nificent sun dial in the world. 
They passed through a thicket, in which the 
ealoyer had collected the finer varieties of the 
Greek and Asiatic rose; and after some turns 
round the spiral ofa little path, cut by his hands 
in the rock, stood at the foot of the great central 
pinnacle of the mountain. 
This, said he, is the gnomon of our dial; and 
when those clouds below clear away, you shall see 
its plate. 
The increasing glow of the morning had begun 
to dissolve the vapours, which hitherto lay in 
enormous fleeces on the sea as far as the eye 
could reach; and a slight breeze soon catching 
them, developed the horizon of waters, lying with 
the smoothness of a mirror, and blue as the heas 
vens. 
« There,’ said he, * is our remembrancer of 
the passing of time. Follow the shadow of the pin- 
nacle, it is sixty miles long.” 
Ilebe saw, with delight and wonder, the phe- 
nomenon. A stupendous pillar of purple shade 
lay upon the deep, slowly pointing round, as the 
sun moved about the mountain; and touching, 
one by one, a circle of small islands, that gleamed 
across the distant. view like so many floating 
pearls. 
“ Our dial,” said he, “is alone among wonders. 
The sunrise throws the shadow to Salonika ; the 
sunset throws it round to Lemnos, Islands are 
our hour-marks ; and the circumference of our dial 
is three hundred miles.” 
There are five other tales, together occu- 
-pying little more than a volume, which have 
all of them, the author observes, appeared 
in ‘amore hasty shape in scattered publi- 
cations.” Of these the best probably is, the 
Married Actress, entering, as it does, into 
feelings by no means of an obvious or hack- 
neyed cast. The introductories to these 
tales are all of them exquisite morsels—the 
reader will not fail to distinguish the 
Monthly Review of Lilerature, 
[Dxc. 
‘ Italian,’ which describes the miserable 
influence of the Piedmontese government. 
Mémoires sur ? Impératrice Josephine, 
&§c. 1828—The writer of these memoirs is, 
no doubt, very well known at Paris, but the 
name has not reached ws. She speaks of 
herself as belonging to an émigré family, 
and as born in exile—in 1794 quite a child. 
Her friends were musical, and able, fortu- 
nately, to turn their talents to account, suc- 
cessively, in England, Hamburgh, and 
Copenhagen. Under the Consulate they 
returned to Paris, but the state of the 
mother’s health, and the fortunes of the 
family, compelled them to retire to Geneva. 
Here, after a residence of some continuance, 
they were presented to the Empress, who 
had gone to Geneva, on her divorce, to meet 
her son from Milan. They were before 
known to her, and she now cordially in- 
vited them to come and see her at Navarre. 
To Navarre they accordingly went, and re- 
mained till the Empress returned to Mal- 
maison ; to which place, though holding no 
office in the Imperial establishment, they 
still accompanied her, and there also the 
present volume leaves them, soon after the 
birth of the King of Rome. 
The anecdotes are not of Josephine only, 
but of everybody of whom anything can be 
recollected ; beginning in England, and 
accompanying the family migrations to 
Hamburgh, Copenhagen, Paris, Geneva, 
Navarre, and Malmaison, and making an 
agreeable volume, which any one may skim 
with pleasure. Many concern persons, who 
are of no historical, or even of colloquial 
distinction ; but by far the greater part do 
concern persons of whom the world has heard 
a great deal, and may veryallowably desire to 
hear more ; and, certainly, the general value 
of the collection is rather above par than 
below. The style of communication is easy 
and graceful, and the writer’s admiration” 
for Josephine, though enthusiastic, is very 
excusable—it is expressive of the feelings 
of a grateful protégée. She was introduced 
to her when very young, and distinguished 
by her in circles of splendour and scenes of 
gaiety, and naturally dwells with fondness 
on her recollections. She deprecates, very 
uselessly, the supposition of any undue bias 
—by birth and connection she was a Bour- 
bonite—had peremptorily refused an honour- 
able appointment in the court of the Queen 
of Naples, but Josephine was irresistible. 
We shall notice a few matters, as they 
occur, on turning over the leaves, without 
any effort at combining. 
While in England, Dussek and Cramer 
were visitors of the writer’s friends. On 
one occasion Dussek was behind his ap- 
pointment. ‘* What delayed you?” asked 
Cramer. ‘ I have been composing a little 
piece,’”’ said he, “‘ with which I was very 
much pleased ; but I threw it in the fire.” 
“ And why ??’—“ Why, there was a devil of 
a passage in it, which I have been labouring 
in vain, for hours, to execute ; and I knew 
J 
