wounded when the vicissitudes of their servile life throw them into the market. Struck by this circumstance, I afterwards made inquiries, and found that instances in which slaves remain attached to one family throughout their existence, are comparatively rare. If misfortune overtakes a man, of course the slaves are sold; they go as part of the property-in the case of failure for example; and how many Egyptian merchants have not failed once, twice, thrice. On the first pressure of pecuniary difficulties, one, at least, of the slaves of the house is got rid of. "I have so much in my shop," you may often hear it said: "I have built so and so, and I have the donkey and Zara.”

'Zarifeh tried hard, poor thing! to persuade my friend to buy her. She walked about to show that she was active, arranged the cushions of the divan, and trimmed the shosheh, to exhibit her familiarity with the usages of a genteel house; and laughed with forced gaiety to prove that she was of a good temper. There was a ground of objection, however, which the Sitt suspected, and the truth of which she endeavoured to ascertain, by a series of sudden questions and artful cross-examinations; but Zarifeh denied, with well-feigned indignation, the double life of which she was not permitted to be proud.

'The chief difficulty, however, still remained. Would two days of trial be allowed? "Unless they are," said Madoula to the girl, "I shall not buy you. How do I know what bad habits you may have : you have acknowledged you talk in your sleep; I don't care for that, as you will be shut up all night; but you may be a liar, you may be a thief, you mayAnd here followed a list of vices incident to female slaves, during the utterance of which I scarcely knew whether to look at the ceiling or the floor, but to which poor Zarifeh listened most patiently, firmly denying that she possessed such habits and imperfections. One of her observations was sensible enough; for she said that a trial of two days would be of no avail, since any person, in her position, could put on a fair outside for so short a time. Altogether, it was observable that she had been brought up in a good family, and knew something of the world; and it was easy to see that Sitt Madoula rather feared that she was rather too clever and knowing. I had no doubt of her being something of a politician, for she endeavoured throughout to appear in the character of a simple girl, whereas she was, in the Eastern style, a refined and well-educated woman. However, such was her fascination, that the Sitt would certainly have bought her, but that her mistress sent an old duenna with a message from the Wallâlah, where she was living, to the effect that an offer had been made, and that, unless the money was immediately forthcoming, Zarifeh must return. The girl accordingly departed, not without expressions and looks of sorrow; but she had scarcely been gone half an hour, when Madoula, who had sat reflecting during that time, clapped her hands, and calling her servant, ordered him to go instantly, and say that she would pay the price. It was too late, Zarifeh had already passed into the harem of an old Turk, who had made up his mind at once on seeing her.'

"God is merciful," said the Sitt, consoling herself. "Perhaps that girl had some grievous fault, and I may be well delivered." Her

evanescent affection for Zarifeh was here wafted away on a long sigh; and she added, smilingly, "I shall send to-morrow morning for half a dozen girls from Jellaba. You must be here to give your opinion."-P. 139.

It would be easy to multiply similar extracts almost ad infinitum; but the specimens we have selected will suffice to show how full of amusement and variety the volume is. Mr. St. John has carefully noticed every phenomenon of Levantine society, which he has ably contrasted with that of the Muslims. He has likewise contrived to introduce into his work an account of Mohammed Ali and the government of Egypt, of which he has formed a correct appreciation. The Jesuitical manners of the old Pasha could not impose upon him, and still less the inferior arts of such persons as Abbas Pasha and Artim Bey. These individuals, considering themselves to be distinguished disciples of Macchiavelli, imagine they can easily overreach European travellers, whom they look upon, often very justly, as weak and superficial incarnations of vanity and self-conceit. Occasionally they make a mistake, and encounter among the horde of visitors some one qualified to turn the tables on them, and penetrate through their wiles and devices, without being in the slightest degree intelligible to them. Mr. Bayle St. John seems to have performed this agreeable duty pre-eminently well, and is entitled to the respect of the reader accordingly.

But there are other things in Egypt besides Turks and Pashas, and the odious intrigues of petty courts. There is the charm of grand solitudes, and the aspect of a physical nature more beautiful in its kind than anything offered to the eye by European regions. It is a vulgar error to regard the Nilotic Valley as unpicturesque. Peculiar, no doubt, it is; but that it abounds with the materials of poetry-in other words, that it is capable of influencing the imagination, and of generating elevated and romantic ideas in the mind, will be evident from the following passage. It occurs in a delightful story which Mr. St. John relates of a dreamy German, who, for the recovery of his health, took up his abode in Rossetta, the Er Rashid of the Orientals.

"From the terraced roof of his house, when the scorching heats of the day had passed-when the sun was only to be seen in patches of red or gold low down among the palm-trees on the borders of the desert-when the panting land of Egypt was inhaling, in long voluptuous draughts, the cool evening breezes from the sea-when the groves and the fields were bathing their dusty vegetation in the balmy dews of twilight-when the last songs of the boatmen were trembling along the listless surface of the Nile-when the birds were coming home from the rice-grounds, and the bandit hawk was unwillingly

quitting his look-out upon the minaret, and the owl showed his great capacious head on some old fragment of wall-when the gaudy moths were hieing gaily to consume themselves in the first flickering taper that gleamed, like dashing young lovers in the flame of an early passion-when hungry dogs yelled angrily at the heels of some solitary passer-by- when the notes of distant musical instruments were sprinkled into "the drowsy ear of night," or the sound of boisterous merriment swept up from the river-side-when measured voices from tottering minarets impressed the necessity of prayer upon congregations that had vanished from the earth-when the rising moon formed a silver background to the dusky lace-work of palm-groves that adorned the outline of the Delta-when the stars stooped into sight, like fair damsels from their mysterious balconies in the sky-above all, when, at the hour of midnight, Nature seemed to faint into silence, to swoon with amazement at her own beauty and solitude-then it was that Herman, from the terraced roof of his house, would take flight on the wings of his imagination, and search round the depths of the heavens for his ideal!'—P. 279.

We have omitted to allude to very many topics touched upon in Mr. St. John's volume, but must not forget to observe that there are several stories introduced, which, for fidelity of description, and simplicity and force of narrative, resemble, and in many respects equal, the tales of the Arabian Nights.' This is more particularly the case with Mohammed the ill-favoured, and Fatmeh the well-favoured,' which discloses much of the interior economy of a Muslim family. No ground is described but that which the writer himself has travelled over-the Delta, the banks of the Nile, and the environs of Cairo. Fouah, where the story commences, is a place of irregular appearance, the aspect of which has not been greatly modified by the establishment of factories within its walls. Nowhere, perhaps, in Lower Egypt, can you enjoy from the roof of your house more delicious prospects at morning or evening. On one side you behold the boundless desert, stretching away towards the setting sun; while close at your feet flows the mighty Nile, with blue or ruddy waters, according to the season of the year. On the other side you have long ranges of palm-forests, interspersed with lakes and ponds, and bright green rice-fields, and villages, and minarets, and light and graceful Sheikhs' tombs, bathed in the soft glow of evening. On the mimosas, or sycamores, near at hand, you behold flocks of the white ibis resting on branches like huge flower petals, or incrustations of snow; while the roofs of the town (flat and parapeted) swarm with evening parties, smoking or sipping sherbet in the open air. Here and there, perhaps, a sweet female voice rises through the twilight, accompanied by the sounds of musical instruments, interrupted at times by the wild howl of the jackal; such is Fouah, where few Europeans have ever

resided, though there is scarcely a town in Egypt where one could pass a few months more pleasantly. Mr. Bayle St. John has visited it, and profited by his familiarity with so beautiful a spot. At the end of the volume, we are pleased to see announced a series of views illustrating his visit to the Oasis of Jupiter Ammon.

ART. III.-History of the Philosophy of Mind. By Robert Blakey, Esq. 8vo. Four Vols. London Saunders.

FEW subjects have been expressed under a greater variety of names, than that of which the history is proposed to be given in the volumes before us. Intellectual philosophy, metaphysics, psychology, the physiology of the mind, are examples of these terms, among many others. On the continent, this study has been known by the designation of speculative philosophy; and sometimes it has been simply called-philosophy. In Scotland, we may find it laxly included, together with ethics, under the name of moral philosophy. In England, it has long been called the philosophy of mind, the term chosen by our author. The only objection that we know of to this otherwise strictly appropriate designation is, that, according to the letter, it expresses more than it is intended to convey-which is the philosophy of the human mind.

The philosophy of mind, in general, cannot with propriety be restricted to the human mind. In strictness, it concludes a vast field limited only by the line of demarcation which separates the gross materialism everywhere surrounding us, and certain forces and agencies (such as heat, light, and the various electricities), from those phenomena which, in the form of will, intelligence, and feeling, present to our observation something which we know not how to class in any category of mechanical or chemical causation. Thus we speak of mind in brutes. Nor can we help doing so. The sagacity of some animals, apart from their wonderful and unvarying instincts, at once leads us to a sort of comparative philosophy of mind, which obliges us to confess our ignorance respecting some of our theoretic distinctions between man and the creatures immediately below him, however familiarly these distinctions may have been supposed by us to be ascertained. We need not say, with some, that man is only the evolution of a molluscum, in order to render consistent our

postulate, that among the animals below him we find, within certain limits, the analogue of the human intellect, of human emotion, and the like. Nor, indeed, are we so startled at such an assertion as some might think reasonable. If all that is meant by the evolution' spoken of, be that there is a gradation in the anatomical and physiological structure of the whole animal creation, from the lowest tribes up to man; that Nature (to use a convenient abbreviation for the Author of Nature) does not produce living beings, in their various genera, as it were per saltum; but that there is a law of continuity observable from the most simple to the most complicated structures;-then we are very content to call this an evolution. No doubt, however, there is wanting such a law of continuity with regard to mind, since man's reason, will, and moral feeling, place him at an inaccessible distance from the most sagacious of the lower animals. Nevertheless, it is not easy to say where intelligence ends; Dr. Grant's theory of distinct motive and sensitive columns in the nervous axis of the invertebrated classes, as had been previously known in the vertebrata, tends still further to induce the philosopher of mind to pause in attempting to draw the line. It is said (not without evidence) even of the polygastric or infusorial animalcules, that a careful observation of them, by presenting the simplest analysis of the most complex mental phenomena, throws a new light on the most obscure parts of the philosophy of mind, and the laws of its influence on the animal frame.'

In strictness, then, the subject of the work before us is the philosophy of the human mind. And let none of our readers suppose that it is frivolous or useless to lay stress on the distinction of terms. Of the immense importance of terminology, no one who knows anything of the history of science can be unaware. The progress of chemistry, of botany, of mineralogy, of almost any science whatever, testifies this fact. Crystallography, a branch of the last-named science, after being improved among the Germans by the introduction of a consideration of the crystallographic axes, now promises to be brought to a still more definite form by a more luminous notation on the same axial system. In the study of the functions and phenomena of the mind of man, it is obviously desirable that methods should be adopted, so far as the subject allows, similar to those which have so frequently proved successful in the natural sciences. We are glad, therefore, to see indications of a revived attention, in this country, to a branch of inquiry which has been illustrated by the names of Locke and Reid, who may be said to stand at the head of our British psychology, or philosophy of the human mind. We hope the issue will be a still further elaboration of mental philosophy; and one sign of this will be, a close attention