TEMPLAR AND HOSPITALLER. complained bitterly of the privilege of free-worship allowed to their opponents. Unmerited good fortune had made them insolent, and they contested the right of the emperor to become a party to any treaty, as long as he remained under the ecclesiastical ban. Frederic was disgusted with his new subjects; but, as the Templars and Hospitallers remained true to him, he marched to Jerusalem to be crowned. All the churches were shut against him, and he could not even find a priest to officiate at his coronation. He had despised the papal authority too long to quail at it now, when it was so unjustifiably exerted, and, as there was nobody to crown him, he very wisely crowned himself. He took the royal diadem from the altar with his own hands, and boldly and proudly placed it on his brow. No shouts of an applauding populace made the welkin ring; no hymns of praise and triumph resounded from the ministers of religion; but a thousand swords started from their scabbards to testify that their owners would defend the new monarch to the death. It was hardly to be expected that he would renounce for any long period the dominion of his native land for the uneasy crown and barren soil of Palestine. He had seen quite enough of his new subjects before he was six months among them, and more important interests called him home. John of Brienne, openly leagued with Pope Gregory against him, was actually employed in ravaging his territories at the head of a papal army. This intelligence decided his return. As a preliminary step, he made those who had contemned his authority feel, to their sorrow, that he was their master. He then set sail, loaded with the curses of Palestine. And thus ended the seventh Crusade, which, in spite of every obstacle and disadvantage, had been productive of more real service to the Holy Land than any that had gone before; a result solely attributable to the bravery of Frederic and the generosity of the Sultan Cambel. Soon after the emperor's departure a new claimant started for the throne of Jerusalem, in the person of Alice, Queen of Cyprus, and half-sister of the Mary who, by her marriage, had transferred her right to John of Brienne. The grand military orders, however, clung to Frederick, and Alice was obliged to withdraw. So peaceful a termination to the Crusade did not give unmixed pleasure in Europe. The chivalry of France and Engiand were unable to rest, and, lorg before the conclusion of the truce, were collecting their armies for an eighth expedition. In Palestine also the contentment was far from universal. Many petty Mohammedan states in the immediate vicinity were not parties to the truce, and harassed the frontier towns incessantly. The Templars, ever turbulent, waged bitter war with the sultan of Aleppo, and in the end were almost exterminated. So great was the slaughter among them, that Europe resounded with the sad story of their fate, and many a noble knight took arms to prevent the total destruction of an order associated with so many high and inspiring remembrances. Camhel, seeing the preparations that were making, thought that his generosity had been sufficiently shown, and the very day the truce was at an end assumed the offensive, and marching forward to Jerusalem, took possession of it, after routing the scanty forces of the Christians. Before this intelligence reacked Europe, a large body of Crusaders was on the march, headed by the king of Navarre, the Duke of Burgundy, the Count de Bretagne, and other leaders. On their arrival, they learned that Jerusalem had been taken, but that the sultan was dead, and his kingdom torn by rival claimants to the supreme power. At this crisis aid arrived from England, commanded by Richard, Earl of Cornwall, the namesake of Cœur de Lion, and inheritor of his valor. His army was strong, and full of hope. They had confidence in themselves and in their leader, and looked like men accustomed to victory. Their coming changed the aspect of affairs. The new sultan of Egypt was at war with the sultan of Damascus, and had not forces to oppose two enemies so powerful. He therefore sent messengers to meet the English earl, offering an exchange of prisoners and the complete cession of the Holy Land. Richard, who had not come to fight for the mere sake of fighting, agreed at once to terms so advantageous, and became the deliverer of Palestine without striking a blow. The sultan of Egypt then turned his whole force against his Moslem enemies, and the Earl of Cornwall returned to Europe. Thus ended the eighth Crusade, the most beneficial of all. | DESCRIPTION OF AN OLD-FASHIONED IN GARDEN. the interest!-they chose to admit it as a principle, that whatever obstructed the prevailing system must be all thrown down, all laid prostrate; no medium, no conciliatory methods were to be tried, but, whatever might follow, destruction must precede. I remember, that even this garden, so infinitely inferior to those in Italy, had an air of decoration, and of gayety, arising from that decoration; un air paré, a distinction from mere unembellished nature, which, whatever the advocates of extreme simplicity may allege, is surely essential to an ornamental garden. All the beauties of undulating ground, of shrubs, of verdure, are to be found in places where no art has ever been employed, and, consequently, cannot bestow a distinction which they do not possess; for, as I have elsewhere remarked, they must themselves, in some respects, be considered as unembellished nature. Among other circumstances, I have a strong recollection of a raised terrace, seen sideways from that in front of the house, in the middle of which was a flight of steps with iron rails, and an arched recess below it, backed by a wood. These steps conducted you from the terrace into a lower compartment, where there was a mixture of fruit-trees, shrubs, and statues, which, though disposed with some formality, yet formed a dressed foreground to the woods; and, with a little alteration, would have richly and happily blended with the general landscape. MAY, perhaps, have spoken more feelingly on this subject, (the defects of modern gardening,) from having done myself what I so condemn in others-destroyed an old-fashioned garden. It was not, indeed, in the high style of those I have described, but it had many circumstances of a similar kind and effect. As I have long since perceived the advantage which I could have made of them, and how much I could have added to that effect-how well I could in parts have mixed the modern style, and have altered and concealed many of the stiff and glaring formalities-walled compartments without, as apartI have long regretted its destruction. I destroyed it, not from disliking it; on the contrary, it was a sacrifice I made against my own sensations to the prevailing opinion. I doomed it, and all its embellishments, with which I had formed such an early connection, to sudden and total destruction, probably much upon the same idea as many a man of careless, unreflecting, unfeeling good nature, thought it his duty to vote for demolishing towns, provinces, and their inhabitants in America: like me-but how different the scale and VOL. V.-21 It has been justly observed, that the love of seclusion and safety is not less natural to man than that of liberty, and our ancestors have left strong proofs of the truth of that observation. In many old places there are almost as many ments within doors; and though there is no defending the beauty of brick walls yet still, that appearance of seclusion and safety, when it can be so contrived as not to interfere with general beauty, is a point well worth obtaining; and no man is more ready than myself to allow, that the comfortable is a principle which should never be neglected. On that account, all walled gardens and compartments near a houseall warm, sheltered, sunny walks, under walls planted with fruit-trees-are greatly to be wished for, and should be preserved, I if possible, when once established. therefore regret extremely, not only the compartment I just mentioned, but another garden immediately beyond it; and I cannot forget the sort of curiosity and surprise that was excited after a short absence, even in me, to whom it was familiar, by the simple and common circumstance of a door that led from the first compartment to the second, and the pleasure I always experienced on entering that inner and more secluded garden. There was nothing, however, in the garden itself to excite any extraordinary sensation : the middle part was merely planted with the lesser fruits, and dwarf trees; but, on the opening of the door, the lofty trees of a fine grove appeared immediately over the opposite wall; the trees are still there, they are more distinctly and openly seen, but the striking impression is gone. On the right was another raised terrace, level with the top of the wall that supported it, and overhung with shrubs, which, from age, had lost their formality. A flight of steps of a plainer kind, with a mere parapet on the sides, led up to this upper terrace underneath the shrubs and exotics. All this gave me emotions in my youth, which I long imagined were merely those of early habit; but I am now convinced that was not all; they also arose from a quick succession of varied objects, of varied forms, tints, lights, and shadows; they arose from the various degrees of intricacy and suspense that were produced by the no less various degrees and kinds of concealment, all exciting and nourishing curiosity, and all distinct in their character from the surrounding landscapes. I will beg my reader's indulgence for going on to trace a few other circumstances which are now no more. These steps, as I mentioned before, led to an upper terrace, and thence, through the little wilderness of exotics, to a summer-house, with a luxuriant Virginia creeper growing over it; this summer-house and the creeper, to my great sorrow at the time, to my regret ever since, to my great surprise at this moment, and, probably to that of my reader-I pulled down, for I was told that it interfered so much with the leveling of the ground, with its flowing line and undulations, in short, with the prevailing system, that it could not stand. Beyond this again, as the last boundary of the garden, was a richly worked iron gate, at the entrance of a solemn grove; and they both, in no small degree, added to each other's effect. This gate, and the summer-house, and most of the objects I have mentioned, combined to enrich the view from the windows, and from the home terrace. What is there now? grass, trees, and shrubs only. Do I feel the same pleasure, the same interest in this ground? Certainly not. Has it now a richer and more painter-like effect as a foreground? I think not by any means; for there were formerly many detached pieces of scenery, which had an air of comfort and seclusion within themselves, and at the same time formed a rich foreground to the near and more distant woods, and to the remote distance. The remark of a French writer may very justly be applied to some of these old gardens:-"L'agréable y étoit souvent sacrifié a l'utile, et en général l'agréable y gagna:" "The agreeable was frequently sacrificed to the useful, and in general the agreeable gained by it." All this, however, was sacrificed to undulation of ground only, for shrubs and verdure were not wanting before. That undulation might have been so mixed in parts with decorations and abruptnesses, that they would have mutually added to each other's charms; but I can now only lament what it is next to impossible to restore, and can only reflect how much more difficult it is to add any of the old decorations to modern improvements, than to soften the old style by blending with it a proper portion of the new. My object (as far as I had any determinate object besides that of being in the fashion) was, I imagine, to restore the ground to what might have been supposed to be its original state; I probably have, in some degree, succeeded, and, after much difficulty, expense, and dirt, I have made it look like many other parts of mine, and of all beautiful grounds, with but little to mark the difference between what is close to the house and what is at a distance from it, between the habitation of man and that of sheep. A GOOD WIFE.-A pleasant, cheerful wife is as a rainbow set in the sky when her husband's mind is tossed with storms and tempests; but a dissatisfied and fretful wife, in the hour of trouble, is like one of those who were appointed to torture lost spirits. A MAGIC IN INDIA. CORRESPONDENT in India tells us that a military friend of his, on returning to England, and finding all astir there about mesmerism, writes to him that he had often had much cause to regret that, during his long residence of more than twenty-eight years in India, he was ignorant of the very name or existence of mesmerism; as he could recall to mind many instances of what he then deemed to be native superstitions, on which he now looked very differently, believing them to be the direct effects of mesmeric influence. These instances are dayly and hourly exhibited in Indian dwellings, though either passing without notice, or ascribed to other causes. Children in India, especially European children, seldom go to sleep without being subjected to some such influence, either by the ayahs or the attendant bearers; and our military friend says, that he has himself repeatedly, in a few seconds, been the means of tranquillizing a fractious, teething child, and throwing it into a profound sleep, by the mere exercise of the will, quite ignorant that he was thus using, though in one of its simplest forms, a power at which he laughed heartily when displayed around him in some of its more hidden ramifications. We give the following in his own words : Zadoo Walees (dealers in magic) from the bazaar, and gave them four pice apiece, (about twopence each,) and they cured me.' "But how-what did they do?" 466 They put me on a charpaee, (a low bed,) and one sat at each side of me, and both passed their hands over my body so, (describing long mesmeric passes,) and thus they set me to sleep, and I slept soundly: when I awoke, I was free from rheumatism, and am now perfectly well." The master made no investigation of the matter; the man was laughed at, and told to return to his duties, which he continued thenceforth to perform with all his former zeal. Now, this was not regarded by the patient or the other servants as a strange thing, for they took it quite as a matter of course; and there is indeed no reason to doubt, that the natives of India frequently have recourse to jhar phoonk, or mesmerism, for the cure of rheumatism; but many interesting things are carefully concealed from the English, be-" cause we invariably ridicule or sneer at native customs-a mode of treatment peculiarly distasteful to the inhabitants of the East. But though willing to make use of these mysterious powers in their beneficent and curative forms, there exist all over Hindostan abundant proofs of the dread of "zadoo," or witchcraft, among all classes, Moslems as well as Hindoos, when it appears to threaten them with evil. If a cultivator has transplanted his tobacco or other valuable plant, he collects old crack"I shall now relate a circumstance, proving ed earthen cooking-pots, and places a spot that the natives of India apply mesmeric power to the removal of diseases with the utmost success. I had in my establishment at Lucknow a chuprassie, who was a martyr to the most deplorable chronic rheumatism. His hands, wrists, knees, and all his joints, were so greatly enlarged, and in a state so painful, that his duties had gradually become merely nominal. One day, he hobbled up, and begged my permission to remain at home for a few days, for the purpose of being cured of his agonizing disease. I said: 'Certainly; get cured of your complaint, and let me see you when you return.' In a very few days, perhaps in four or five, to my great astonishment he returned, smiling and joyous, with his limbs as pliant and supple as my own. "What!' said I, are you come back already?" took.' "I took no medicine; I called in two women, *Running-footmen, who attend the carriage or palanquin, go on messages, carry books or letters, or any light thing they can take in their hands. of limestone whiting on the well-blackened bottom of each. They are then fixed on stakes driven into the ground, so that the white spots may be seen by all passers-by. This ingenious process is meant to neutralize the influence of the "evil eye" of the envious. The talismans worn by the natives, said to be always the same, consist of an oblong cylinder, with a couple of rings for a string to pass through to fasten them, and would appear to have been originally impregnated with the electric fluid. Children are invariably provided with such amulets to avert the "evil eye;" and should any one praise their beauty, the parent spits on the ground, and declares them to be perfect frights. The inhabitants of the mountainous regions east of Bengal-the Bhooteeas and others-accuse all those of Bengal of being great sorcerers; and when seized with fever in the low malarious tracts, which they must pass through on descending from the mountains and entering that province, for the purpose of bathing in the holy Ganges, or visiting one of the numerous shrines in the plains, the disease is invariably imputed to the incantations of the Bengalees. "Nor tree, nor plant, Grows here, but what is fed with magic juice, All full of human souls." Our military friend gives two other instances in which the effects produced were really and truly mesmeric, though of course ascribed to magic. He vouches for the facts, but leaves every one to form his own opinion: "The wife of one of my grooms, a robust woman, and the mother of a large family, all living within my grounds, was bitten by a poisonous serpent, most probably a cobra, or coluber maja, and quickly felt the deadly effects of its venom. When the woman's powers were rapidly sinking, the servants came to my wife, to request that the civil surgeon of the station might be called in to save her life. He immediately attended, and exerted his utmost skill, but in vain. In the usual time, the woman appeared to be lifeless, and he therefore left her, acknowledging that he could not be of any further service. On his reaching my bungalow, some of my servants stated, that in the neighborhood a fakir, or wandering mendicant, resided, who could charm away the bites of snakes; and begged, if the doctor had no objection, that they might be permitted to send for him. He answered: Yes, of course; if the poor people would feel any consolation by his coming, they could bring him; but the woman is dead.' "After a considerable lapse of time, the magician arrived, and began his magical incantations. I was not present at the scene, but it occurred in my park, within a couple of hundred yards of my bungalow; and I am quite confident that any attempt to use medicines would have been quite useless, as the woman's powers were utterly exhausted, though her body was still warm. The fakir sat down at her side, and began to wave his arm over her body, at the same time muttering a charm; and he continued this process until she awoke from her insensibility, which was within a quar ter of an hour." The last instance we shall give occurred at Bombay. The writer says:— "On visiting Bombay in 1822, I was greatly diverted by a circumstance told to me by an old friend in the artillery there. He stated that he had had a kulashee, or tent-pitcher, in his service for many years; that he was a most faithful and active man; but that he had all of a sudden, and without any visible cause, be come very greatly emaciated, feeble and ghastly His master had sent him to the hospital, to have the benefit of the skill of the regimental surgeon; but after the lapse of some time, he was sent back, with the intimation that the and that he, therefore, could make nothing of surgeon could not discover any specific disease, his case. On bringing back this information, my friend began to cross-question his servant, who would not at first acknowledge the cause of his disease; but at last, after much persuasion, he candidly avowed to his master, in confidence, that he was laboring under the effect of witchcraft. And do you know,' said my friend, that the fellow actually believed it himself!' And we both laughed most heartily. His master continued his examination, until the kulashee confessed that a certain Brahmin, officiating at a large tank close to the fortress of Bombay, had threatened him with his revenge, and was now actually eating up his liver, by which process he would shortly be destroyed. 'I will tell you what I did: I no sooner got the Brahmin's name, than I ordered my buggy, and quickly drove down to the tank. On reaching it, I inquired for the magician; and on his arrival, I leaped down, seized him by the arm, and horse whipped him within an inch of his life, now and then roaring out: 'I'll teach you to bewitch my kulashee, you villain!' 'How dare you injure my servant, you rascal?' and so forth. In a very few minutes, the liver-eating Brahmin declared that he would instantly release the kulashee from the spell; that on reaching home, I would find him recovered; and ultimately he was perfectly released. And, believe me,' said my friend, laughing, that the fellow mended from that hour, and is now a capital servant.'" That this power, which we call mes merism, was also known to the priests of ancient Egypt, is supposed to be proved by carvings on the temples of priests making the passes with their hands, opposite other figures, to produce the sleep; a circumstance which has been recounted as proving a connection between the ancient religion in Egypt and some unknown faith formerly prevalent in India, at the time the temples of Elephanta, Kennery, and others, were built. We greatly admire the philanthropic Major Ludlow, who devoted his energies to the abolishing of the suttee; but whose labors searching their own Shasters, he discovmet with very partial success, until, by ered that there was a time at which the rite did not exist. A greater than he, however, must arise before the other still more ancient and wide-spread faith can either be explained or abolished. MONTESQUIEU says: "I never listen to calumnies, because, if they are untrue, I be true, of hating persons not worth thinkrun the risk of being deceived, and, if they ing about. |