tingents; and lastly the Buriats and Tunquses furnish five regiments of cavalry to aid the Cossacks in guarding the Chinese frontier.

The Cossacks are still armed with bows and arrows, so that they can kill a sentinel without the least noise; their whole war is a struggle of skill, personal courage, and daring, against which a German peasant, or a Parisian tailor, turned soldier, has no more chance than he would have against a Bedouin Arab. The system of plunder is so organised among them, that when in Paris in 1812-14, they had, by dint of riding long stages, a regular line of Cossack posts extending from the Seine to the Don, and along which the booty was daily transmitted. This line was established and kept up by themselves!

It is but fair to remark of this force, which is at once everywhere and nowhere-of this soldier, who with his arms so tight as not to make the slightest noise, steals upon his enemy like a tiger-who, spread out like a swarm, defy alike great guns and musketry, and wait their moment to rush like lightning upon the foe-that it has also been said of them that by their devastations they often compromise the safety of their own army without in any way contributing to the general results of the war.

There can be no doubt that the Russian army-the most numerous body of men ever yet collected together by one nation for purposes of war-has its deficiencies and its short-comings; one of the chief of which is, that which is almost inseparable from so vast an organisation, the difference between the nominal and the really effective sum total. But still the existence of such an army, greater than that of all the other European powers put together, cannot be looked upon without feelings of apprehension not unmingled with awe. There have ever been upon this point two classes of thinkers, both having an extreme tendency, one to underrate the power of Russia, the other to make too much of it. The middle is at once the safest and most rational position in which to stand in a discussion which has had no small amount of asperity thrown into it.

One of the best proofs of what that power is, cannot be better shown than at the present moment, when all the power of the Porte, seconded by its vassals of Egypt and Tunis, and backed by its fanatic and warlike hordes from Arabia, Kurdistan, and Albania, has been unable to raise an army that can combat more than one-tenth of the army which the Tsar could bring against the devoted empire. It has been found, also, at a convenient moment, that even the possession of the seas would not influence the march of armies by land. Nothing can better show the necessity of neither underrating nor tampering with the power of Russia.

The heterogeneous composition of the Russian army; its wide dissemination, and the difficulties of assembling its various corps; the want of sinews of war, or the means of crippling these; the inherent weakness of the autocratic government, and the insubordinate relations of Tsar, nobility, and serfdom, have all alternately been held forth as drawbacks upon its nominal strength. But many of these points, as its wide dissemination, might, in another sense, be looked upon as Russia's strength. For example, if Russia could not afford to have a separate army in the Caucasus, it could not afford to go to war with Turkey; as if it could not afford an army in Poland, it could also not afford to beard France and Great Britain. As to the want of sinews, the yearly increasing value of the Ural and Sibe

rian mines must have gone on for some time past diminishing any chances of accident on that score; add to which, the Russian commissariate is notoriously the cheapest (proportionally) in the world-so also with the political weakness inherent in an autocracy. The emperor himself entertains a precisely opposite opinion, and rates the divided and dilatory counsels of a representative system at a very low figure.

Events alone, in the words of M. de Haxthausen, can give an answer as to how this immense military force may be brought to act. The military power of Russia is almost as untried as is its naval. In the last war with Turkey, the notoriously deficient and straggling fortifications of Varna were sufficient to hold the Russians in check for months. The natural and artificial defences of the Balkan, at every point, whether in Servia, Bulgaria, or at Shumla, are not to be sneered at. When we read, then, that the advance of Russia to Constantinople will be little better than a military promenade, we may be permitted to doubt it. There is the Danube to pass, which cannot be done without some loss from the Turkish irregulars encamped on its banks. The Balkan may be turned, but not without a struggle. This is supposing that no opposition presents itself from the west, and that Austria is gained over by the bribe of Croatia, Bosnia, and Hertzegovina. But the advance of the Russian army would be further impeded by the allied fleet holding the coast. If the Russians ventured to engage that fleet, all the chances of war are in favour of the allies. The capture of Constantinople might also be for a long time thwarted by such a success on the part of the fleet. But still the grand results would ultimately (without unforeseen elements coming into operation, and complications arising, which it would be more tedious than difficult to discuss here) be in favour of the colossal Christian power that would hold Adrianople on the one side, and advance through Asia Minor on the other. The very guns of the Bosphorus and of the Dardanelles might, if no land force was brought into co-operation, be made to revenge any probable disaster on the Black Sea.

The war now entered upon is a war of religion; it is a last and final crusade of Christianity against barbarous Islamism. The proclamation of the Russian commander-in-chief, which concludes with the following words "Russia is called upon to annihilate Paganism, and those who would oppose her in that sacred mission shall be annihilated with the Pagans. Long life to the Tsar! Long life to the God of the Russians" -leaves no doubt upon the subject.

There is every reason to presume, from the manner in which diplomatic proceedings have been made to march side by side with the continuous pouring in of troops into the principalities on the Danube, that the Emperor of Russia never intended to be stopped in the line of conduct which he had marked out for himself. The hasty acceptance of the note prepared by the conference, before it had been accepted by the chief party in question, as also the aggrieved party-Turkey-was a refined piece of diplomacy. It enabled the emperor to say to the conference, "You dictated terms such as you deemed it honourable and just for Russia and Turkey to accede to. I, the Emperor of all the Russians, hastened at once to give in my adhesion to the arrangement proposed by your honourable conference.

Turkey refused to accede to these proposals, but insisted upon impossible modifications. Turkey has therefore only herself to blame, and the European powers having, through the Vienna conference, pledged themselves to an arrangement which Russia accepted and Turkey alone rejected, the said powers must feel that they can no longer in honour lend their material support to the disaffected Muhammadans."

We have never shrunk from expressing our opinion that Great Britain and France would place themselves in a wrong position in entering upon a war in favour of a decrepit, barbarous race and an unenlightened faith, against a young and colossal Christian power. This feeling is only increased by a sense of the difficulties of the case. A cowardly, inefficient ally in the field, an incongruous, discordant population on all sides, an incapable, profligate administration to guide all, and an enemy with almost exhaustless resources to combat. The Anglo-French fleet is totally unequal, with such an ally and such odds, to bring the struggle to a successful issue for Muhammadanism. It is now acknowledged, even by those parties who would have had us go to war upon the first occupation of the principalities by the Russians, that the result of that war could never be the upholding of Turkey in Europe. Its fate is decreed within its own bosom, and are those countries prepared to throw their whole power into the balance? Yet once begun it might be dangerous to the ultimate safety of all Europe to leave off in disgrace. In the presence of so imminent a danger, and in the presence of such manifest political perplexities, how much more reasonable it would be for the four powers to wait their time for throwing their united influence into the balance to determine the future of the East; to see that the Tsar does not rule at once at St. Petersburg and at Constantinople; to assure the independence of the Danubian provinces, and to establish an independent Christian dynasty at Byzantium; in fact, to look after their own interests and the interest of all Europe that is not Russian, instead of hurrying into a hasty war for a bankrupt faith and race, from which, unless united in a common cause, they may not be able to extricate themselves without difficulty or disaster. Such is the position Great Britain and France would be placed in almost inevitably after war: better, then, that they should stand in that position previous to war being commenced. They would at least have uninjured resources to back their diplomacy, unquestionable rights-those of a common interest, a common religion, and a common civilisation-would then be with them, and the sympathies of all mankind that is not Russian or Muhammadan would also be on their side.

AN EVENT IN THE LIFE OF LORD BYRON.*

Ir was early on a summer's morning, many years ago, that a party of five or six persons, most of whom were in the bloom of youth, stood on the shores of the Adriatic Gulf, about to embark in a four-oared gondola, which was moored to its banks. Gondoliers-boatmen, as we should call them-bustled around. Some inspected the oars, some were getting the gondola in rowing order, some were standing guard over the provisions and other articles about to be stowed away in it; and one, whose countenance wore a peculiar expression, chiefly because it possessed but one eye, stood close to the principal group, waiting for orders.

It may be well to notice this group before proceeding further. Foremost and most conspicuous of it was a man of distinguished appearance, and noble, intelligent features. He looked about thirty years of age, but he may have been a year or two older, or younger. His personal characteristics need not be more particularly described, since his fame has caused them to be familiar to most classes. It was Lord Byron.

A little away from him stood an Italian woman, young, and passably lovely. Her features were not classically beautiful, but the dancing blue eyes that lighted them up, and the profusion of fair ringlets that adorned them, rendered the face more than pleasing. There is no necessity for mentioning her name here: it has been coupled with Lord Byron's too long, and too publicly, for any familiar with the records of his life to be at a loss to supply the deficiency. To call her Madame la Contessa, will be sufficient for us. Her brother, the Count G., was standing near her but where was the old lord, her husband? Never you inquire where a lady's liege lord may be, when referring to Italy: be very sure that it is anywhere but by the side of his wife. Two more gentlemen completed the assemblage: one was the Marquis P.; the other a Frenchman, Monsieur H.; passing acquaintances of Lord Byron.

They had been staying for a few days at one of the inhabited islands of the Adriatic. It had been a suddenly-got-up little party of pleasure, having started one fine morning from Ravenna, in the gondola, and had proceeded by easy sails, now touching at one point, now at another, to the place where they were for the moment located. Their object this morning was to gain one of the uninhabited isles, spend the day on it, and return back in the evening. Some of these little solitary islands were luxuriant and beautiful, well worth the trouble of a visit, when within reach.

The gondoliers, the same who had accompanied them from Ravenna, continued their preparations for departure, but so dreamily and lazily, that only to look on would put a Thames waterman into a fever. Lord

* It is believed by the author of these pages, that the incident they relate is scarcely, if at all, known in England. Yet this little episode in the career of Lord Byron is surely worthy of being recorded in the poet's own land, and in his native tongue. It is pretty generally known abroad, not only in Italy: the author has heard it spoken of more than once, and has also met with it, minutely detailed, in a French work. It occurred during the poet's last sojourn abroad.

Byron was accustomed to Italian idleness and Italian manners, nevertheless he would sometimes get impatient-as on this morning. He leaped into the gondola.

66 Do you think we shall get away to-day if you go on at this pace ?" he cried, in Italian. "And who is going to be subjected to the sun's

force through your laziness ?"

"The sun's force is not on yet, signor," one of the men ventured to

remonstrate.

"But it will be soon," was the answer of his lordship, with an Italian expletive which need not be translated here. "Cyclops, hand in that fowling-piece: give it me. Mind the lines-don't you see you are getting them entangled. Madame la Contessa, what has become of your sketch-book?”

She looked at him with her gay blue eyes, and pointed to the book in question, which he held in his hand. He laughed at his mistake, as he threw it down beside him in the boat.

"You are forgetful this morning," she observed.

"My thoughts are elsewhere," was his reply; "they often are. And more so to-day than ordinary, for I have had news from England." "Received news to-day!-here ?" was the exclamation.

"Yes. I left orders at Ravenna that if anything came it should be sent on here."

At length the party embarked. Count G. took his place at the helm, and the four others arranged themselves, two on either side.

"Which isle is it the pleasure of the signor that we make for ?" inquired one of the gondoliers, with a glance at Lord Byron.

He was buried in abstraction, and did not answer, but the Frenchman spoke.

"Could we not push on to Cherso ?"

"Cherso!" reiterated the count, opening his eyes to their utmost width. "Much you know, my dear friend, of the localities of these islands. It would take us twelve months, about, to get to Cherso in this gondola."

66

They were telling us about the different merits of these isles last night. What do you say, mi-lord?”

"I care nothing about it; only settle it between yourselves," was Lord Byron's listless reply.

"Dio! but you are polite, all of you!" uttered the marquis. "La Contessa present, and you would decide without consulting her!"

"If you ask me," rejoined the lady, "I should say the wiser plan would be to leave it to the men. They are much better acquainted with the isles than we are."

The men laid on their oars, and looked up.

"Where are we to steer to ?"

"To whichever of the islands within reach you think best," replied Lord Byron; and their oars again struck the water.

"You say you have had news from England," observed Count G. to Lord Byron. "Good, I hope."

"Nothing but newspapers and reviews."

"No letters?"

"None. Those I left in England are strangely neglectful of me.