of Tartar warriors." It is pleasant to know that the costumes worn in operatic representations resemble any thing actually used by mortal men in the nineteenth century.

The emir called Vámbéry to a special audience, in which he was submitted to a close crossexamination, but succeeded, "through the flexibility of my tongue, which is really impudent enough," says he, with some truth, in disarming suspicion. Arrived in the audience cham

and after reciting a prayer, seated himself in that worthy's place. "The boldness of my proceeding-quite, however, in accordance with the character which I assumed--seemed not displeasing to him. I had long forgotten the art of blushing, and so was able to sustain the look which he now directed full in my face, with the intention, probably, of disconcerting me.

"Hadji, thou comest, I hear, from Roum, to visit the tombs of Baha-ed-din and the saints of Turkestan ?'

"Yes, takhsir (sire); but also to quicken myself by the contemplation of thy sacred beauty' (djemali mubarek), according to the forms of conversation usual on these occasions.

donkey up stairs into a carpeted room, to be duly inspected. His companions also came to his rescue. Hadji Reshid is not only a good Mussulman," they proclaimed every where, "but at the same time a learned mollah; to have any suspicion of him is a mortal sin." Nevertheless spies were set to track him in the city; and shrewd fellows sent to speak with him; but with a huge turban on his head, a copy of the Koran suspended from his neck, a wise tongue, and a pious demeanor, he eluded all traps, and pres-ber, he walked, unasked, up to the emir, roughently found himself a popular man. "What ex-ly pushed aside an astonished prime-minister, treme piety!" exclaimed the populace, "to come all the way from Constantinople to Bokhara alone, to visit our Baha-ed-din"-the great saint of this region. "They praised me," he writes, "but not a farthing did I ever get from them." He was lucky, however, to get off with his life. The "noble Bokhara" is a delightful spot. It is not only extraordinarily hot; but one in ten of the inhabitants are affected with a singular discase, the rishte (filaria Medinensis), which, horrible as it seems to us, is thought as little of there as a cold in the head here. "One feels, at first, on the foot, or on some other part of the body, a tickling sensation, then a spot becomes visible whence issues a worm like a thread. This is often an ell long, and it ought some days after to be carefully wound off on a reel. This is the common treatment, and occasions no extraordinary pain; but if the worm is broken off an inflammation ensues, and instead of one, from six to ten make their appearance, which forces the patient to keep his bed a week, subjecting him to intense suffering. The more courageous have the rishte cut out at the very beginning. The barbers in Bokhara are tolerably expert in this operation. The part where the tickling sensation is felt is in an instant removed, the worm extracted, and the wound itself soon heals. Sometimes this malady, which is also common in Persia, recurs in the following summer, and that, too, even when the patient is in a different climate. It happened so with Dr. Wolff, the well-known traveler, who dragged with him all the way from Bokhara one of these long memorials of his journey. It did not show itself till he came to England, when it was extracted, in Eastern fashion, by the late Sir Benjamin Brodie." The only prevention is to drink constantly of warm water and tea.

"Strange! and thou hadst, then, no other motive in coming hither from so distant a land?'

"No, takhsir (sire); it had always been my warmest desire to behold the noble Bokhara and the enchanting Samarcand, upon whose sacred soil, as was remarked by Sheikh Djelal, one should rather walk on one's head than on one's feet. But I have, besides, no other business in life, and have long been moving about every where as a djihangeshte' (world pilgrim).

"What, thou, with thy lame foot, a djihangeshte! That is really astonishing.'

"I would be thy victim' (an expression equivalent to 'pardon me'). 'Sire, thy glorious ancestor (peace be with him!) had certainly the same infirmity, and he was even djihanghir' (conqueror of the world). This reply was agreeable to the emir, who now put questions to me respecting my journey, and the impression made upon me by Bokhara and Samarcand.”

From Samarcand Vámbéry was offered escort to Thibet and China—a long and unheard of journey, in which he would have been handed over from caravan to caravan, and from nation to nation, every where to excite new suspicions, and brave fresh deaths. But he had done enough for the first attempt. He remembered the Turkish proverb, "Better is an egg to-day than a fowl to-morrow." He determined to return homeward, being tired of savagery; and he had yet, at best, a long and perilous journey back to Teheran, by a new route, through Karshi, Maymene, and Herat. The reader who is anx

Samarcand, the pride of the Turcomans, the city which is famous through the East for the beauty of its situation, for the excellence of its water, and for the tomb of the great TimourTamerlane as we call him, from Timurlenk, the lame-Samarcand, which, in the fond opinion of the Asiatics, "resembles Paradise," was the next step in the author's journey. He found it a dull but interesting city, mostly in ruins, and the only notable incident during his stay was the arrival and reception of the Emir Mozaffarious to learn how he fared on this homeward ed-din, who looked, with his escort of high functionaries, clad in snow-white turbans and wide silk garments, "more like the chorus of women in the opera of Nebuchadnezzar than like a troop

journey, how he nearly starved, lay for days among ruins, was refused the slightest aid, and did not cease to be suspected, though his misery was devouring him, must seek his own vivid ac