tions. The poor beasts do not seem to relish this | to a stone bridge, and a large Oriental archway, mode of procedure, if we might judge by the smothered moans which proceeded from their big chests, and the alarmed glances of their dark eyes.

SHOEING AN OX.

We could perceive no traces of oppression on the part of the Russian government. In fact, the Crimea seems to be treated by the conquerors much like a beautiful slave who has had the grace to please her master. Yet somehow the Tartar race is disappearing year by yearanother illustration of that natural law, in virtue of which the bare presence of a stronger race inevitably, and often involuntarily, destroys the weaker one.

with a Cossack before it, standing sentinel. This was the entrance to the palace of the ancient Khans. Onward we rode through the thickening gloom, along narrow streets, unrelieved by a single light, or the appearance of a passer-by. Ismael, however, knew the place, and brought us to the khan where we were to pass the night. A light burned dimly over the entrance. The court in the centre was filled with uncouth vehicles bullock-wains, camel-carts, and donkey-wagons. Around it ran a balcony a few feet from the ground, upon which opened all the doors. In the lower story were the stalls, where the animals were secured. We mused upon the time when, in such a caravanserai as this, a young mother "brought forth her first-born son, and laid him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn." The pictures in the old Family Bible, of the infant Redeemer laid to sleep among the horned cattle," came back with the freshness of childhood, and the low hymn with which a gentle mother used to hush my boyish fears for the babe's safety, rose calm and clear above the noisy din of the crowded khan. In the centre of what might be styled the "public room," a company of Tartar postillions formed a picturesque group. They had built a fire on the clay floor, and were preparing their evening meal.

Next morning we set out to explore the town. In places the sides of the valley rose in precipitous cliffs, threatening momentarily to topple down. Where they were less steep, their slopes resembled an amphitheatre, the flat-roofed dwellings rising like steps, half visible amid the crown

Punctual at the time appointed, Ismael conducted us across a stony plateau overlooking a deep valley. From its bottom we could discerning foliage. Abundant springs of the purest water glittering spires and minarets shooting far up into the clear air. This was the famous old capital of the descendants of Ghenghis Khan-the "Garden Palace" of the Crimea. We clattered down the stony slope, when a sudden turn brought us

gushed forth at every turn, falling into basins where the faithful were performing their ablutions. Early as it was, as we passed a coffeehouse, we saw within groups of sedate Tartars coiled upon low divans, luxuriously smoking or

however, from the immense quantities of it stored up in the hogsheads which lined the walls of the dingy room, this must be the favorite beverage of the Tartars.

Some branches of business appear to be wholly in the hands of the Karaite Jews, whose chief seat is an ancient fortress perched upon one of the most inaccessible crags overlooking the valley, whence they descend every morning to the town, returning in the evening. Besides the Cossack guard at the palace gates, we saw not a sign or token of Russian supremacy. The aspect of every thing was purely Tartar, just as it might have appeared three centuries ago, when the Czar trembled in the Kremlin at Moscow at the bare mention of the names of the fierce Khans of the Crimea. We were assured, I believe with truth, that all Russians are forbidden by an Imperial ukase from settling in this lovely valley.

drinking, black coffee from the tiniest of cups. | been steeped in water and fermented. To judge, Passing through the streets occupied by the artisans, we gained some insight into the industrial habits of the place. All the operations that with us are performed in obscurity are there patent to view. The houses and shops are destitute of windows, having instead broad shutters which are let down during the day, so as to form counters for the display of wares and manufactures. Here was a baker's shop, the oven so close to the street that by extending your hand from without you could feel its heat. Turners sat cross-legged, patiently boring long cherry sticks for pipe-stems, or fitting the amber mouth-pieces. At a cookshop groups of morning customers were fishing out huge bits of meat from the bubbling caldrons, and devouring them in the open air. Here a black-bearded cook bore a joint in his hands, catching the drippings upon a loaf of black bread. This he laid down before a customer on the bare plank which served for a table within. Still further on we came to the fruit-market, abounding in grapes, figs, pomegranates, and fruit to which we could not even give a name; but chief among all were the pastecs, the luscious melons from the adjoining plains, heaped up like piles of cannonballs in an arsenal. Still beyond, were the tippling shops, whither the thirsty souls of the town resort to drink booza, an abominable astringent liquor extracted from millet-seeds, which have

A broad gleam of sunlight lay like a golden bar across the gateway of the ancient palace, as we entered. Its exterior is unpretending enough, affording no indication of the fairy-like beauty inclosed within the blank walls. With a refinement of taste hardly to have been expected, this palace has been restored, precisely as it was in the palmy days of its original possessors; even the claims of Eastern hospitality have not been neglected, a portion of it being assigned as a resting place for

shrubs vail the tombs of those who, with a purer taste, chose that their last sleep should be under the open sky. We walked reverently among the tombs, while Gottlob, his meerschaum for once laid aside, interpreted the inscriptions upon them. Many of them were conceived in a spirit of touching beauty. One prince would not have his tomb covered by any roof, because "the heavens are so glorious and beautiful that even from my grave I would look up into the sky, the abode of God." Another ordered his tomb to be thickly walled and roofed, "because"-so runs the inscription

strangers. We entered a grassy court-yard surrounded by structures of varied architectrue, festooned with vines, and shrubbery. The walls are covered with inscriptions in strange characters; mottoes from the Koran, scrolls, hieroglyphics, ciphers, groups of flowers, fanciful birds and beasts bursting from arabesque scrolls, ornament every door. Tall trees and beautiful fountains add the living charm given only by verdure and running water. Chief among the fountains are two at the entrance, in which the graceful invention of the East has exhausted itself. Arabesques, lightly sculptured and painted-"I am utterly unworthy that the least ray of with bright harmonious colors, surround the marble basins filled with the brightest water that ever sparkled. "If there be another fountain like unto this"-so runs the inscription-" let it come forth and show itself. Damascus and Bagdad have witnessed many things, but so beautiful a fountain have they not beheld." This fountain was erected by the Khan Krim Gheraï the radiant, whose fostering hand hath quenched the thirst of the land." Upon its fellow, its founder still implores the divine mercy for himself and for the sinners of his race.

Before entering the palace buildings, we visited the mausoleum which covers the remains of many Khans. The custodian, an aged Moslem, bore a torch, by the flaming light of which we could see bier-shaped tombs, with high head-stones carved at the top into the form of turbans. Around the mausoleum spreads the cemetery. Vines and

God's sun should shine upon me." Was this the utterance of a soul haunted by some inexpiable crime? or was it not rather the miserere of a spirit sensitively alive to the lightest fault, and overwhelmed by a sense of the perfections of the Holy One, in whose immediate presence he was about to stand? Let us hope the latter; and that, like another penitent who dared not "lift up his eyes" from the dust, "he went home justified." Another ordered a vine to be planted over his head, "that he, who in life had brought forth so little fruit, might be found more fruitful in death." Another had his tomb built close under the eaves of the mosque, in order that, as the water from the sacred roof fell upon him, "it might wash away the foulness of his sins, which were as numberless as the drops falling from the clouds."

The palace is uninhabited, yet every thing is

and bathed her hands with tears. If so, his hopes were unavailing. He might be her trusted counselor, her favorite general; but the flame of lawless love, once extinguished can never be relighted. These apartments remain just as they were left by their imperial occupant more than sixty years ago. The carpets and mattings and hangings are as brilliant as ever; fresh flowers in precious vases still perfume the air; gold and silver fishes sport in crystal bowls, as they did under the eye of the Empress, so long closed in death; the marble bath seems to be awaiting her presence.

We passed from the city, up the valley toward Tchioufout-Galeh-" The Fort of the Jews"-the chief seat of the small dispersed sect of the Karaites. Emerging from the throat of the defile in which Bagtche Seraï stands, we entered a broader valley shaded with majestic oaks and beeches. This was the "Valley of Jehosaphat," the cemetery of the Karaites. All around were tombstones, lying flat or standing at every conceivable angle of inclination; for the sanctity of the grave has been disturbed by earthquakes. The solitary fortress, perched high up on the summit of a steep rock, is the Zion of these Hebrew Purists, who adhere to the written law, rejecting the idle glosses of the Talmud, and the manifold traditions of the Rabbins. Few inhabit the city of the living, for the sect is widely scattered in many lands; but all, if possible, return to have their bones laid with those of their fathers in the city of the dead. A long flight of steps cut in the solid rock, leads up to the fortress. At the bottom is the well which supplies it with water. We ascended among a file of donkeys laden with water-skins, who climbed up without drivers. The place seemed deserted; all the able-bodied men had descended to the Tartar town to ply their different trades. A few children too young to go out into the world, and a few old men returned from their long wanderings, and calmly awaiting the summons which should bid them take their rest in the Valley of Jehosaphat, were the only human beings we saw. The view from the Jewish town is transcendently

as fresh as though its occupants were hourly expected. We wandered through interminable suits of rooms, connected by winding stairs and narrow passages. They are all small, and hardly two on a level. The floors are covered with the softest carpets; Persian rugs of the richest hues overspread the divans; the walls are hung with precious tapestry of those gorgeous colors which charm the Oriental eye; over the arched doorways are suspended satin curtains. Painted and latticed windows fling long bars of many-colored light and deep shadow across floor and wall, and along the furniture inlaid with gold, silver, and pearl. There is none of the magnificence derived from amplitude of proportions or massiveness of material; the charm consists rather in the exquisite taste displayed, and the perfection of the innumerable details, which realize all that the most glowing imagination can picture of the lux-beautiful. The eye wanders over a succession urious life of an eastern seraï.

Perhaps the most elegant apartments are the ones fitted up by Potemkin for the Imperial Catharine, when she made the tour of her new dominions. Wherever she was to pass the night during this long progress-whether in some miserable village, on the broad steppe, or in the sandy desert-she found a pavilion erected for her use by the considerate gallantry of her former lover, whose invisible presence thus seemed to hover around her. Perhaps he wished to recall the old love which she had once felt for him, but had transferred to younger and fairer men; just as when he met her in the famous palace of Taurida which she had built for him, he fell on his knees, VOL. IX.-No. 49.-B

of wooded slopes, far up among huge masses of beetling crags and conical rocks, while the great Tchatir-Dagh-"Tent-Mountain"-the loftiest summit of the chain of the Crimea, flings its steep sides and flat top against the southern sky.

From Bagtche Seraï, after due consultation with Gottlob, I resolved to make my meditated descent upon Sevastopol. I found that there was no obstacle in the way of the city being entered by the neighboring German colonists, the prohibition extending only to foreigners. A fortnight's roughing it among the Tartars had neutralized all the advantage in respect to wardrobe, which I might have once boasted over my Teutonic friend. A huge meerschaum, with a due