NEW BOOKS.

LETTERS ON NATURAL MAGIC.

(This is certainly one of the most ingenious books of the season, and independently of its place as a volume of the Family Library, it has substantive claims which we trust will not he overlooked. It is from the graceful pen of Sir David Brewster, who possesses, in a high degree, the peculiar talent of investing scientific inquiries with the charm of popular delight; in short, of making science easy, and often conveying in a single chapter what others labour to effect in a volume. He, in truth, teaches us the sweet uses of science.

The present work appears to be the suggestion of Sir Walter Scott, to whom it is addressed in letters. We can give but a faint idea of the extent and interest of its subject, which ranges from the magic of the ancients to the intoxicating gas of the moderns; yet the purpose of the work is mainly to trace the connexion of those prodigies of the material world which are termed Natural Magic, with scientific causes. Thus, in the introductory letter, the writer observes on the resources of ancient magic:—)

The secret use which was thus made of scientific discoveries and of remarkable inventions, has no doubt prevented many of them from reaching the present times; but though we are very ill informed respecting the progress of the ancients in various departments of the physical sciences, yet we have sufficient evidence that almost every branch of knowledge had contributed its wonders to the magician's budget, and we may even obtain some insight into the scientific acquirements of former ages, by a diligent study of their fables and their miracles.

(In the second letter, upon Ocular Illusions, is the following beautiful passage on the Eye:—)

This wonderful organ may be considered as the sentinel which guards the pass between the worlds of matter and of spirit, and through which all their communications are interchanged. The optic nerve is the channel by which the mind peruses the hand-writing of Nature on the retina, and through which it transfers to that material tablet its decisions and its creations. The eye is consequently the principal seat of the supernatural. When the indications of the marvellous are addressed to us through the ear, the mind may be startled without being deceived, and reason may succeed in suggesting some probable source of the illusion by which we have been alarmed. But when the eye in solitude sees before it the forms of life, fresh in their colours and vivid in their outline; when distant or departed friends are suddenly presented to its view; when visible bodies disappear and reappear without any intelligible cause; and when it beholds objects, whether real or imaginary, for whose presence no cause can be assigned, the conviction of supernatural agency becomes under ordinary circumstances unavoidable. Hence it is not only an amusing but an useful occupation to acquire a knowledge of those causes which are capable of producing so strange a belief, whether it arises from the delusions which the mind practises upon itself, or from the dexterity and science of others.

(The Optical phenomena, as might be expected, are most abundant, as they include the subject of spectral illusions and apparitions, and natural phenomena marked with the marvellous. The properties of Sound are next in interest; among them we find explained the wonder of singers breaking glasses with their great power of voice; the automaton flute-player, talking engines, echoes, &c. The Mechanical causes are less numerous: among them we are glad to see noticed the feat of lifting heavy persons, which we ourselves have often seen accomplished; but Sir David Brewster does not supply the cause. As the matter may be new to many readers, we quote the two relating pages.)

One of the most remarkable and inexplicable experiments relative to the strength of the human frame, which you have yourself seen and admired, is that in which a heavy man is raised with the greatest facility, when he is lifted up the instant that his own lungs and those of the persons who raise him are inflated with air. This experiment was, I believe, first shown in England a few years ago by Major H., who saw it performed in a large party at Venice under the direction of an officer of the American Navy. As Major H. performed it more than once in my presence, I shall describe as nearly as possible the method which he prescribed. The heaviest person in the party lies down upon two chairs, his legs being supported by the one and his back by the other. Four persons, one at each leg, and one at each shoulder, then try to raise him, and they find his dead weight to be very great, from the difficulty they experience in supporting him. When he is replaced in the chair, each of the four persons takes hold of the body as before, and the person to be lifted gives two signals by clapping his hands. At the first signal he himself and the four lifters begin to draw a long and full breath, and when the inhalation is completed, or the lungs filled, the second signal is given, for raising the person from the chair. To his own surprise and that of his bearers, he rises with the greatest facility, as if he were no heavier than a feather. On several occasions I have observed that when one of the bearers performs his part ill, by making the inhalation out of time, the part of the body which he tries to raise is left as it were behind. As you have repeatedly seen this experiment, and have performed the part both of the load and of the bearer, you can testify how remarkable the effects appear to all parties, and how complete is the conviction, either that the load has been lightened, or the bearer strengthened by the prescribed process. At Venice the experiment was performed in a much more imposing manner. The heaviest man in the party was raised and sustained upon the points of the fore-fingers of six persons. Major H. declared that the experiment would not succeed if the person lifted were placed upon a board, and the strength of the individuals applied to the board. He conceived it necessary that the bearers should communicate directly with the body to be raised. I have not had an opportunity of making any experiments relative to these curious facts; but whether the general effect is an illusion, or the result of known or of new principles, the subject merits a careful investigation.

(In connexion with walking along the ceiling is noticed the beautiful contrivance of the foot of the house-fly and gecko, and the head of the sucking-fish. To the next portion, Chemistry has supplied fewer wonders than we expected: they occupy but fifty pages.

The examples in this book are the most quotable portion, but the majority of them would be new to few readers: who, for instance, is unacquainted with the feats of Topham, the strong man, or the Invisible Girl. The explanations are not so easily transferable, since they are generally accompanied by illustrations.

By the way, how many of these wonders are recorded in the early volumes of the Philosophical Transactions, with all the gravity of the FF.R.S. whose zeal, industry, and emulation rendered the early years of the Society peculiarly brilliant. The very titles of some of the early papers would make a "wonderful museum;" as Four Suns observed in France—Worms that eat Stones and Mortar—which are almost as marvellous as one of Sir David Brewster's lines—a coach and four filled with skeletons. The Royal Society has now existed a century and three-quarters: in their early Transactions are inquiries relative to the tides—observations on the darting threads of spiders—"experiments about respiration"—"of red snow seen at Genoa," &c.; yet scores of philosophers, at the present moment, are controverting these very subjects.)

PILGRIMAGE THROUGH KHUZISTAN AND PERSIA.

(This is not just so good a work as its full title-page may lead the reader to expect. It runs thus "Fifteen Months' Pilgrimage through untrodden tracts of Khuzistan and Persia, in a journey from India to England, through parts of Turkish Arabia, Persia, Armenia, Russia, and Germany." Now, there is attractive promise in the word "untrodden," and it may be said to apply to the Asiatic tour of the author, or his first volume, but is not appropriate to the second, which owes its main interest to his interview with Skryznecki, the illustrious Pole. Neither is the term pilgrimage characteristic of the journey, which has the sketchiness and levity of a flying tour rather than the observant gravity of a patient pilgrimage. Nevertheless, the work is altogether full of vivacity and interest, and the author, Mr. J.H. Stocqueler, must be as pleasant on his travels, as his book will be in our hands.

Crossing from Bombay, the author reached Muscat in eleven days. Here, with his host, Reuben, he paid his respects to his highness the Imaum, whose court is a curiosity.)

The Imaum's palace was close to the water's edge in front of the town, and his highness received Reuben and myself in an arbour or veranda open to the sea. At the entrance to the veranda stood several well dressed Arabs armed with sword, spear, and dagger, and half a dozen dirty looking Abyssinians clothed somewhat like the sepoys in our Indian army, and equipped much after the same fashion. These latter, as I understood, were paraded in honour of my visit; and indeed generally form the garde du corps on occasions of an Englishman's presentation at the Court of Muscat. The Imaum rose on our entrance and accommodated us with chairs, and after we had been served with some insipid sherbet, addressed himself to me on the subject of my journey, its object and direction; and then touched on the politics of Europe.

Our interview closed by his highness offering me the use of his horses, his houses, and his ships of war, the cabins of which afforded excellent accommodation, and which were generally occupied by English visiters.

The Imaum of Muscat is passionately fond of horses, and devotes considerable time and attention to their breeding. Of some of the finest horses in his stud, the Imaum makes presents to the governors of the Indian presidencies, and deserving officers in his own service. Horses likewise form an article of trade between Muscat and India, and yield, as I have been told, a considerable profit.

(Intellect is not on the march at Bushire. It contains a small school founded by the famous Joseph Wolff, and supported by the British residents in Persia. Mr. Wolff projected much; but Mr. Stocqueler says:)

The school possessed, while I was at Bushire, no more than thirteen pupils, who were struggling through the rudiments of the Persian and Armenian languages, under the guidance of a sleepy old Armenian.

(At Koete, our author visited three brothers, "all dressed alike and so much resembling each other in feature, and in the total loss of the left eye, that it was difficult to discover my friend the supercargo, who had accompanied us from Bombay."

Koete is about a mile long, and a quarter of a mile broad. The houses are built of mud and stone, and flat roofed with the trunk of the date tree. Around it is a wall, beyond which nothing is to be seen but a vast sandy plain, extending more than sixty miles. Within the walls, it is equally sterile, it literally yields nothing; here, "all is barren," and the water is far from sweet, yet 4,000 souls live, though the sheikh keeps up no standing army. Mr. S. sails thence into the Shut-ul-Arab, [River of the Arabs,] the banks of which are more delightful than those of the Thames at Richmond.

At Bussorah—a bain à la Turque.)

Entering the hummaum, I found myself suddenly in an apartment resembling a vaulted cellar, dimly lighted by small apertures, and glazed sky-lights in the dome. Stone and brick benches, covered with cloths and coarse carpets, were ranged along the walls, and there was a fireplace where coffee and chibouks were prepared, and cloths dried. Having been required to strip, and a cloth tied round my waist, I was led into a second apartment filled with steam, and of so high a temperature, that in one instant I lost my breath, and in the next was streaming from every pore. I anticipated a speedy dissolution of my "solid flesh;" but on reaching a third apartment, (all vaulted and lighted, or rather darkened alike,) I had become somewhat relieved. In this apartment were four cisterns nearly level with the floor, into which the hot water was drawn by cocks placed in the wall above. As soon as I had decided that the water was hot enough, I was placed by the side of one of the cisterns, and then the operation commenced.

Act 1.—Deluged with hot water from the hands of a stout Persian. Act 2.—Conducted by said Persian to a stone ottoman in the centre of the room, and caused to sit down. Act 3.—My whole body kneaded by the fists of the aforesaid; joints cracked, ears pulled, mustachoes dyed, limbs rubbed with a hair-cloth glove. Act 4.—Enveloped in warm towels, and served with a pipe. Act 5.—Wiped dry; led into the outer apartment dressed and—Exit.

(Starting from Bussorah, the author is towed up the Euphrates as follows.)

As soon as we had got out of the creek, we found both wind and tide had set against us. The mallahs, or trackers, immediately stripped, placing their clothes on their heads, and sprang on shore. A rope was passed from the mast-head to a girdle round their respective bodies, and off they set along the banks; sometimes, on reaching creeks, irrigating channels, or unequal projections, plunging up to their necks, and wading or swimming with their burthen, as the depth or shallowness of the water required. In this way all the communication up the Tigris and Euphrates is carried on when the wind blows down those rivers. The business of tracking as may be conceived, is extremely fatiguing and dangerous: in fact, so excellent a test does it furnish of the muscular powers and courage of man, that the heads of the Mallah tribes require that each Mallah should make three trips to Bagdad, as a tracker, before he can be qualified for the married state and the care of a family.

(The plague rages at Bagdad, and he returns to Bussorah. On his way he escapes a storm on the Euphrates.)

The river, which does not ordinarily rise until the month of June, now rose with inconceivable rapidity, preceded by a violent storm, and in a few hours inundated the whole Irâk. Numberless villages of matted huts were swept away; men, women, and children, were in a moment rendered houseless; numerous cattle and sheep were drowned; date trees torn up by the roots, and boats swamped or stranded. The artificial banks of the river, which had governed our progress upwards, were now overflowed, and it was with the greatest difficulty we could discover the river's bed and escape getting aground.

(At Bussorah.)

Intelligence of the approach of the plague had spread consternation throughout the city, and had sent thousands of its inhabitants into retreat. The shops were closed—trade at a stand—the streets deserted—houses tenantless—the oft busy creek had scarcely a boat moving on its surface—the mosques were filled with the dismayed Moslems, whom poverty or self-interest had kept in the town—the Christian churches held the few Armenians and Chaldeans whom fear had driven to pray with sincerity. Here might be seen a cluster of Zobeir Arabs, meditating rapine: and there a straggling Jew, ruminating on the losses he had sustained by the flight of the panic-stricken slaves of his usury.

Aga Pharseigh had lost all his confidence and self-sufficiency. He had sent off his family to Bushire; he was himself to sink into the humble office of clerk to the resident; and he was (which he esteemed the most distressing event of the three) to encounter face to face those who had just left the "city of the plague." I had told him of the circumstances under which I had met the resident, (coming from Bagdad,) and that there were three cases of plague on board. The Armenian, whose only notions regarding cases were acquired in the course of his mercantile transactions, and who believed a plague case and a six dozen champagne case to be much about the same article, ejaculated, "Three cases of plague! Merciful heavens!—if the major wanted to preserve such abominable virus, could he not have brought a smaller quantity? Three cases! If it should run out, how it might spread about the town!"

(The "divinity" of the sheikh of the Chabeans is worth record. He was pleased with Mr. Stocqueler's medical zeal, and more so with a box of ointment which he laid "at his feet as a certain remedy for the impaired vision of his left eye. He had been stone blind from his childhood, but he held it disrespectful to be told so."

The levee of the sheikh of Fellahi is amusing.)

He was in a spacious veranda in front of his harem, looking out on the palace court, above which it was raised for about three feet. Three or four beautiful hawks were perched near the sheikh, and he was patting a couple of favourite greyhounds. Below, in the court, stood a considerable guard, and about the sheikh's person were a number of subordinate sheikhs. Those of the highest rank merely bowed and took their places, others advanced and kissed the sheikh's hand while the humblest officers knelt on one knee to perform the same ceremony. I observed, however, that great respect was always paid to age in this little court, for when the head of a village, far advanced in years, limped up to the nummud, the sheikh rose and embraced him, though he held but a trifling post, and was a man of little personal merit. My own reception was most flattering. "Ah, ha! khoob! khoob! shahbas!" (good, good, admirable!) exclaimed Mobader Khan, in Persian—"you are now yourself. It is long since I looked upon an Englishman, but I do not forget that they are a great nation." He then discoursed with me about my plans for the future prosecution of my journey, and gave me some instructions for going through the Chab territory. Talking of hunting, and more especially of falconry, he told me that his deserts abounded with game, and that if I would stay with him, I should see herds of antelopes fall to his noble hawks. He was curious about our field sports, but showed very little interest in more important matters; because, said he, "I am already well informed in all that concerns Europeans and their empires."

The sheikh is held in great veneration by all the tribes, who fly to Fellahi at his summons, bringing their own materiel of war. In this way he can command the services of six or seven thousand cavalry, and above fifteen thousand infantry, independently of the wandering Illyauts, who inhabit the deserts of Chab.

(At Bebuhan are some interesting notes.)

The Khans and Meerzas of Bebuhan are considerable consumers of coffee, but not after the fashion of Turks, Arabs, or Europeans. It is with them a kind of bon-bon eaten in a powdered and roasted state, without having had any connexion with hot water. When Meer Goolam Hussein called on me, he was always accompanied by his coffee-bearer, who carried about the fragrant berry in a snuff-box, and handed it frequently to the company present. The first time it was brought to me, deceived by its colour and quality, and strengthened in the delusion by its singular repository, I took a pinch of the coffee and applied it to my nose, amidst the roars of laughter and looks of surprise of all the party.

(A vestry dinner in Persia must be one of our selections.)

At the convent of Julfa the governing bishop and his confreres have ample room, plenty of society, and a well furnished table. I dined once with his lordship and the churchwardens, and found that vestry honours and vestry appetites are not exclusively English characteristics. The dinner was spread as usual on the ground, on a large white cloth, around which the guests assembled. Placed opposite each guest was a plate, knife, fork, spoon, and glass, a piece of cheese, two or three feet of bread, and a hard boiled egg. The feast commenced by each person drinking a dram of aniseed; then came in quick succession mutton chops, boiled fowls, boiled kidneys, sour curds, tea, apricots, apples, and grapes, sweetmeats, and salt fish; to each of which laymen and churchmen did equal justice, finishing the feast with a sacrifice to Bacchus.