THE HORSE-GUARDS-LONDON.

Our print represents, with great accuracy, the entrance to the quarters of the mounted troops of the city of London. As may be presumed, every thing is studied, in the appearance of man and horse, which may give the most striking impression of military power and subordination. This gigantic animal, with his gigantic rider, are good copies of the heavy-moulded figures which attract the attention of an American traveller in the British metropolis. Who of us, on coming suddenly upon one of those powerful troopers, astride of his large and well conditioned beast, has not been struck with some serious thoughts on the nature of military rule, so foreign to our American habits? Every part of the dress, and every strap and buckle of the harness, speaks of strict and submissive obedience. to rules and orders, whose power seems to have converted the silent and motionless figures into blocks of marble.

To contemplate the city guards on sentinel duty leads one to the reflection, that the monarch of England must be almost as whimsical in the choice of troops as Frederick, who invited, hired, or stole every giant he could hear of in Europe, to grace his favorite company. When viewed in Hyde-Park in a fair day, performing the evolutions customary on relieving guard, the mounted troops of London, it is true, assume a different aspect. They move at a lively pace; their bright scarlet coats make a splendid appearance, while the movements of their horses, trained and managed with great skill, render the scene one of great beauty and liveliness, and attractive to many observers. Yet what is the life of a soldier? This question was often seriously pressed upon our minds in Europe, and doubtless every reader who has been a traveller there, will be reminded of such reflections.

Doubtless the threatenings of war, which have for some time disturbed us, have renewed such thoughts, and suggested such an enquiry. The answer to it which every man of reading and sober reflection migh

give, would be long and solemn; for history, which is so largely occupied with depicting of the nature of war, and the character of soldiers, teaches lessons of awful import, in the thousand details it gives of the schemes, the undertakings, and the success of soldiers of all grades and titles. At a time like the present, when men in and out of the government are heard advocating a war with our mother country, the chief nation of Europe, and in the front rank of liberal institutions, of manufactures and commerce, and of the protection and diffusion of civil liberty and evangelical truth, the prop of Protestant Christianity, and the mutual friend of our country and our principles, it will not be inappropriate to turn our attention to the means and the circumstances, as well as the necessary effects of war.

Those of us who were old enough to observe the numerous and malign influences which were felt by society at large by the contest of 1812, may easily imagine how a declaration of war between Great Britain and the U. States would soon introduce agitation and real evils of several kinds into every town, village and family in the Union. One of the bad and most immediate changes would be the elevation of some of the most worthless and now powerless men to places of consequence. When a recruiting rendezvous is opened, the striped flags hung out at a shop window, the drum beats, the fife plays, and the patriotic officer invites every passer-by to step in and enlist in the service of his country, descanting upon the honor of the service, and exerting his eloquence to inveigle the country boy, the young inebriate, or the stupid old drunkard to do the act which shall put a few dollars into his own pocket; what recks he, with all his patriotic professions, and the ensigns of an officer of the great Anglo-Saxon republic, whose heart he is breaking, or what family he fills with woe? He drives his trade, and so do all his fellows at all the rendezvous from Maine to Cape Florida; and daily some hundreds or thousands of uni

form coats and caps are assumed, many of them by the greatest vagabonds, who have now the means of subsistence without labor, and an honorable title in place of want and obloquy, which are their chosen portion and their unquestionable due. Here commences the overturning of the foundations of society. War now begins to operate, that system whose necessary tendency is, to encourage the workers of iniquity, and to honor those who do ill. From step to step the same spirit will be seen to display itself in every part of the land, in every class of society.

Soldiers voluntarily rising for the defence of their country, their families and their homes, when they are menaced by an invader, are beings of one kind; and, properly speaking, are the only men deserving of the name, when that name is understood in its worthy sense. Those who are ready to become the blind instruments of commanders, whether good or bad, have characters of a different and opposite description. From the former, the country and mankind have every thing to hope; in them all may rely. The other, the public and every man has reason to regard with suspicion, and against them precaution should be used. They look to war for their support, and their promotion, and are ready to underrate, if not to despise, dislike and overthrow the public peace for their own selfish advantage, or for the desperate hope of improving their personal situation or prospects. A state of war is necessarily, to a certain extent, a condition of lawful lawlessness, if such a paradox is admissible; and its spirit and tendencies are in direct opposition to the happiness of the people it involves or threatens.

With these simple truths in view, how should good men, enlightened Americans, friends of peace and Christians in principle, regard some of the sentiments recently expressed, by those both in low and in high places, while the question of a war with England has been discussed, particularly that savage and blood-thirsty declaration of a western member of Congress, that he would rather have the angel Gabriel see him after death with his face disfigured by the gashes of battle, than shaded with the grey hairs of old age!

Happily the principles of peace have been extensively and steadily gaining ground in this country for some years, and, we have reason to believe, in England also. Many thanks are due to the Peace Societies, which labored faithfully, though with

but little visible fruit. Questions relating to peace and war are much better under. stood, and the arguments in favor of the one and against the other are more ready in thousands of mouths, and more strongly felt by thousands of minds, for their exertions. With pleasure we recur to the memory of the leader in that great enterprize, the late Mr. Ladd, and his active associates, and, at this period of anxiety and rumor of wars, we would refer our readers to the "Harbinger of Peace," and other similar. publications which may be within their reach, for facts, arguments and reflections befitting the mouth of every good man. We would also remind parents and teachers of the importance of impressing upon the young around them just and Christian sentiments on this engrossing topic of conversation.

One of the most striking facts which have been proved, in the course of the publications made by the Peace Societies, is that all men are universally opposed to war, except soldiers and ambitious statesman, and the desperate and unprincipled anarchists before referred to. Among the mass of historical facts once collected in "The Calumet" to prove this, some very interesting ones were given of the Turks themselves, who are always glad to return home when disbanded.

After the world had been taught to expect that unfurling Mahomet's flag, during the Russian invasion, would be the signal for a "levee en masse," a general, spontaneous and blood-thirsty insurrection of all the people of Turkey, and the immediate overwhelming of their enemies; the moment came, and the illusion was dissipated, to deceive us no more. The mass of the people were not now soldiers, as in the fif teenth century: they were farmers, and had something else to depend upon than mur der and pillage, and something which they liked better. They appeared indeed, and in arms: but the first moment which set them at liberty set their feet on the path homewards.

What Christian, what decent man, would risk his character by talking seriously of settling a question with his neighbor about a disputed garden, or corn-field, with fists or musket balls? Yet in what differs a proposition for a war between us and Great Britain, for the possession of a part of Oregon, except that it is unchristian and savage in a degree proportioned to the number of a nation, compared with one man?

"Greece in 1844: or a Greek's Return to his Native Land."

CHAP. XII.

EDITED BY THEODORE DWIGHT, JR. Visit to Samos.-Departure from Athens.Syra.-Smyrna.-Meet an old friend.-A Caravan. Turkish Travelling.-Ephesus. -A Khan.

The time had now arrived when it was necessary for me to part from my friends, if I would have leisure to revisit the place of my birth and the scenes of my childhood. With great reluctance, therefore, I took leave of my family, and pursued my way, with many sad reflections, back to the harbor of Pyræus, and entered the steamboat, which soon started for the Island of Syra. Our passage was short; and I hoped to embark without much delay on board the boat which was to touch there on her way to Smyrna. We entered the bay, and found its shores almost covered with the numerous houses of the new town, while the old one, crowning a conical hill that rises close at hand, makes a striking appearance, and overlooks the whole island. The latter is almost wholly occupied by Roman Catholics, many of them of different nations, not Greeks by extraction, though nominally known as such. The lower town has been chiefly built within a few years, since the breaking out of the war, by emigrants from Greece. The inhabitants of the two towns were opposed to each other during the revolution: the Roman Catholics here, as in Greece generally at that time, being opposed to the war; but as they were soon greatly outnumbered, it was not in their power to give up the island to the Turks, nor to do much harm in any way. A strong antipathy still exists between the two towns; and quarrels occasionally occur between some of the people.

Unfortunately I was detained at Syra three days, by the delay of the steamboat, which I regretted that I had not been able to foresee, as I should gladly have prolonged my stay with my friends. I occupied the time in walking about the towns, through their narrow streets, but found nothing particu larly interesting, the houses losing all their fine appearance on a close inspection. Great activity prevailed in the harbor and along. the shore, as many small vessels were loading and unloading, arriving and departing. The view from the hill, where the old town

is built, is remarkably extensive, embracing every part of the island, which is very small compared with the importance given it by its position and the convenience of the harbor.

The bazaar of Smyrna in the place where most of the shops of the city were collected, and where, of course, the stranger finds a busy and an amnsing scene. A great variety of merchandize is displayed, consisting of almost every article that can be named, from Europe, Asia, and even America; while the passing crowds present the complexions and costumes, of every neighboring nation ana some distant ones also. While mingling with this motley crowd, a cloud rose unperceived, and a sudden shower drove me to seek the nearest shelter. I entered the door of one of the shops, and stood waiting for the sudden and violent rain to subside. A young man, the clerk, being near me, we fell into conversation. "How far have you to go?" was one of his questions.

"To the mule driver's," said I, “I have left my clothes there, to be ready to join the caravan for Samos."

"Eisth Sapios," inquired he eagerly. "Nal, Yes.'

"are you a Samian ?"

He instantly recollected my family, but for a good reason, he remembered nothing of myself, as he must have been a little child when I left Samos. He expressed great joy at the discovery that we were townsmen, and soon acquainted me with his family, which was well known to me. His father was living, he told me, and he sent an affectionate message to him and other members of the family, requesting that I would certainly not fail to visit them on my arrival. 'But," said he, "what is the matter? You do not speak like a Samiot. How is it that you are a native, and yet talk in a way that we do not? You speak Greek, but, I do not know how it is, you do not seem like one of our people."

་་

I soon accounted for my peculiarity by informing him, that I had spent sixteen years in America, and had seldom spoken a word of our language till within a short time.

The hour had at length almost arrived for the departure of the caravan; and as I was on the spot in good season, I witnessed the

arrival of my destined companions, and the preparations for the journey. About twenty horses were provided for an equal number of travellers, who were partly Turks and partly Greeks, in their appropriate dresses; and we were soon on the way, proceeding out of the city, and on the road to Ephesus. Unfortunately the day was very unfavorable, and we had a constant rain, which brought my umbrella into use, but soon penetrated that and every other article in my possession, so that it seemed almost in vain to hold it over my head.

I have never performed a day's ride under more disagreeable circumstances. The badness of the muddy road, added to the unintermitted rain made it necessary to make several stops to relieve and refresh our horses; and then, as no shelter was provided for travellers, we had to stand exposed to the weather, without a dry spot for our feet. On remounting, we found our saddles like every thing else, completely soaked with water, so that while our animals gained something by the stop, we on the contrary found our new plight rendered more comfortless than it was before.

At length we arrived at Old Ephesus, which still remains, as it has long been, quite deserted. We passed close by the remains of the ancient temple or church, which has been so often described, with its two tall columns of white marble, each composed of huge twisted serpents. Passing on for some distance among the ruins of buildings so far dilapidated as to leave undistinguishable their design and dimensions, we had a considerable distance to go before we arrived at the present town, which is small and uninviting.There we were glad to find a resting place and a shelter in a khan, as it is commonly spelled in English. The pronunciation of this Turkish word is more like hahn, with a strong aspirate on the first h. It presents to view externally, only a wall of moderate neight, perhaps twelve feet, in a square form, enclosing a large space. The entrance is through a gate, which we all passed, and found a row of small rooms extending on all the four sides, with doors opening inwards and an inner wall, a few feet from these openings, to afford a convenient passage.The remaining space was appropriated to the animals, and partly occupied with stables.

Our party were soon separated. Those

who had friends in the place, withdrew, and the rest entered the shelter of such of the rooms as were offered to them. I was glad to find myself once more housed, though in a place which had no furniture to accommodate me, except a divan, or a low stuffed bench, extending round against the walls. Two of my fellow travellers shared the room with me, one a young Greek and the other a Turk, from Armenia, with whom I was not able to exchange a single word, for the want of any common language. To my mortification, I found that none of the persons connected with the caravan was going further towards Samos, but I at length joined a party bound that way.

Our caravan was a small one and partook but in a limited degree of the character of those travelling parties which commonly bear that name in the region where we were. They all rode on horses, as none of us had any large quantity of goods to transport. We met with many others in the course of the day which better deserved the name. They consisted of long lines of camels, heavily laden with articles of different kinds, going to Smyrna. The men accompanying them were chiefly Turks of the lowest classes, miserably clad, and more dirty even than common in consequence of the bad travelling. They had nothing in their appearance but what was disgusting. Indeed most of my companions, though of rather a superior order to them, were the most disagreeable persons I ever fell in company with, with respect to their habits.

In the course of this day we traversed a varied but not attractive region. A few villages appeared at intervals, and we observed some habitations which appeared to be the residences of rich men, with some of the conveniencies of life about them. But in none of the villages did we find an inn or khan; so that it would have been impossible to hope for even a shelter if we should stop for the night. No one could have the least hope of being admitted into one of the houses unless he had some acquaintance with its owner. Such being the state of things, we had no resource but to content ourselves with the only shelter provided for travellers within a considerable distance, a small solitary house, at the foot of a high hill, at the door of which we at length found ourselves, after

the prolonged inconveniencies and trials of the day.

But what a scene was presented to our view! Poor comfort, indeed, after our fatigue and exposure! A wretched building, about fifteen feet by ten, (for it seemed to me to be not that size,) with no furniture in it, and no floor but the bare earth; and this the only place offered for the accommodation of sixteen men! It is true there was a loft above, to which a rude staircase invited us; but the aspect of things in that direction was so much worse than what we saw around us, that no one seemed to think even of exploring it with any expectation of finding it a place to be endured. At least no one interfered with the owners of the house, the two Turks who played the part of hosts to our

company.

One of the first things to be sought for was fire; and, having procured a little charcoal, several parties were soon seen collected round small heaps which they had kindled on the floor, here and there. The smoke rose on all sides, and escaped as it could, annoying me not a little however, as there was no chimney for its escape. Two or three of us had ordered a couple of fowls on our first arrival, and they were boiled in an iron pot with a quantity of rice, to form the well known Turkish dish called Pilaf: but where and how to eat it when prepared was the question. A square board was placed on low supporters within four inches of the floor, on which we were obliged to seat ourselves to get near enough to the table to eat. The pot was brought straight from the fire, covered with soot as it was, and set unceremoniously in the midst of us, with the expectation that we should help ourselves with our fingers, and trouble our hosts no farther. But we found the stew so hot that such a thing was not to be thought of; and we should have had to endure a prolonged disappointment like that of Tantalus, had not one of our mess thought of an expeditious method of cooling, which was soon tried with pretty good success. The contents of the pot were poured out upon the wooden table, and we soon found pieces which we could handle and eat.

We were

but very indifferently furnished with utensils; and to my lot fell an antique wooden spoon, with a long handle, to which were attached several little round bells. How many mouths had been served by it before was a natural

subject of consideration for its appearance indicated long use: but I tried to dismiss such thoughts, though the jingling of the bells, which I was obliged to hear at every motion, called my attention to that singular object whenever I took a mouthful.

We would gladly have betaken ourselves to repose with little delay: but there was neither bed, bedstead, ottoman, nor straw to be seen or hoped for; and as I saw my com. panions begin to prepare for lying down, by spreading different articles upon the ground, I followed their example, and at length stretched myself, or more truly speaking, seated myself, for there was not room for half our number to lie down. Then began a night of trouble such as I never had experienced before. On each side of me lay one cf my fellow-travellers, another where I wanted to lay my head, and a fourth in the very place where I would have stretched my feet if I could. Of course I had to adapt myself to the very limited and insufficient space, without a word of complaint. I had not even the satisfaction of complaining, if satisfaction there might have been in it: for I well knew that they had not encroached at all; as they were equally contracted and compelled to draw themselves within similar limits. Every change of position I tried, turning this way and that, but all in vain. Sleep was out of the question, and even rest was impossible: for, beside the inconvenience of remaining in such a small place, I was soon assailed by enemies of the most vexatious and loathsome description. Vermin, such as most countries and nations in the world are happily free from, commenced their attacks upon me, and persevered with such malice and in such numbers, that I was driven to a kind of despair. It seemed as if a building could not have been prepared with more annoyances for unfortunate travellers, if ingenuity had had taken upon herself the task. Where the disgusting insects came from, I could not see: but the appearance of the house and that of some of my fellow-travellers led me to divide the responsibility between them. One could hardly have claimed exemption from suspicion, on any visible ground; and there seemed to be too large a supply to proceed from one source alone.

There I remained, as hour after hour passed away, and the rain continued to pour upon the roof and the ground, warning me that it