THE PUBLIC JOURNALS.
Reading edition
THE HOME OF LOVE.
"They sin who tell us Love can die. With Life all other Passions fly, All others are but Vanity;— "But Love is indestructible. Its holy flame for ever burneth, From Heaven it came, to Heaven returneth; Too oft on earth a troubled guest, At times deceived, at times oppressed, It here is tried and purified, And hath in Heaven its perfect rest."—SOUTHEY.
Thou movest in visions, Love!—Around thy way, E'en through this World's rough path and changeful day, For ever floats a gleam, Not from the realms of Moonlight or the Morn, But thine own Soul's illumined chambers born— The colouring of a dream! Love, shall I read thy dream?—Oh! is it not All of some sheltering, wood-embosomed spot— A Bower for thee and thine? Yes! lone and lonely is that Home; yet there Something of Heaven in the transparent air Makes every flower divine. Something that mellows and that glorifies Bends o'er it ever from the tender skies, As o'er some Blessed Isle; E'en like the soft and spiritual glow, Kindling rich woods, whereon th' ethereal bow Sleeps lovingly awhile. The very whispers of the Wind have there A flute-like harmony, that seems to bear Greeting from some bright shore, Where none have said Farewell!—where no decay Lends the faint crimson to the dying day; Where the Storm's might is o'er. And there thou dreamest of Elysian rest, In the deep sanctuary of one true breast Hidden from earthly ill: There wouldst thou watch the homeward step, whose sound Wakening all Nature to sweet echoes round, Thine inmost soul can thrill. There by the hearth should many a glorious page, From mind to mind th' immortal heritage, For thee its treasures pour; Or Music's voice at vesper hours be heard, Or dearer interchange of playful word, Affection's household lore. And the rich unison of mingled prayer, The melody of hearts in heavenly air, Thence duly should arise; Lifting th' eternal hope, th' adoring breath, Of Spirits, not to be disjoined by Death, Up to the starry skies. There, dost thou well believe, no storm should come To mar the stillness of that Angel-Home;— There should thy slumbers be Weighed down with honey-dew, serenely blessed, Like theirs who first in Eden's Grove took rest Under some balmy tree. Love, Love! thou passionate in Joy and Woe! And canst thou hope for cloudless peace below— Here, where bright things must die? Oh, thou! that wildly worshipping, dost shed On the frail altar of a mortal head Gifts of infinity! Thou must be still a trembler, fearful Love! Danger seems gathering from beneath, above, Still round thy precious things;— Thy stately Pine-tree, or thy gracious Rose, In their sweet shade can yield thee no repose, Here, where the blight hath wings. And, as a flower with some fine sense imbued To shrink before the wind's vicissitude, So in thy prescient breast Are lyre-strings quivering with prophetic thrill To the low footstep of each coming ill;— Oh! canst Thou dream of rest? Bear up thy dream! thou Mighty and thou Weak Heart, strong as Death, yet as a reed to break, As a flame, tempest swayed! He that sits calm on High is yet the source Whence thy Soul's current hath its troubled course, He that great Deep hath made! Will He not pity?—He, whose searching eye Reads all the secrets of thine agony?— Oh! pray to be forgiven Thy fond idolatry, thy blind excess, And seek with Him that Bower of Blessedness— Love! thy sole Home is Heaven!
New Monthly Magazine.
ORIENTAL SMOKING.
In India a hookah, in Persia a nargilly, in Egypt a sheesha, in Turkey a chibouque, in Germany a meerschaum, in Holland a pipe, in Spain a cigar—I have tried them all. The art of smoking is carried by the Orientals to perfection. Considering the contemptuous suspicion with which the Ottomans ever regard novelty, I have sometimes been tempted to believe that the eastern nations must have been acquainted with tobacco before the discovery of Raleigh introduced it to the occident; but a passage I fell upon in old Sandys intimates the reverse. That famous traveller complains of the badness of the tobacco in the Levant, which, he says, is occasioned by Turkey being supplied only with the dregs of the European markets. Yet the choicest tobacco in the world now grows upon the coasts of Syria.
What did they do in the East before they smoked? From the many-robed Pacha, with his amber-mouthed and jewelled chibouque, longer than a lancer's spear, to the Arab clothed only in a blue rag, and puffing through a short piece of hollowed date-wood, there is, from Stamboul to Grand Cairo, only one source of physical solace. If you pay a visit in the East, a pipe is brought to you with the same regularity that a servant in England places you a seat. The procession of the pipe, in great houses, is striking: slaves in showy dresses advancing in order, with the lighted chibouques to their mouths waving them to and fro; others bearing vases of many-coloured sherbets, and surrounding a superior domestic, who carries the strong and burning coffee in small cups of porcelain supported in frames of silver fillagree, all placed upon a gorgeous waiter covered with a mantle of white satin, stiff and shining with golden embroidery.
In public audiences all this is an affair of form. "The honour of the pipe" proves the consideration awarded to you. You touch it with your lips, return it, sip a half-filled cup of coffee, rise, and retire. The next day a swarm of household functionaries call upon you for their fees. But in private visits, the luxury of the pipe is more appreciated. A host prides himself upon the number and beauty of his chibouques, the size and clearness of the amber mouth-piece, rich and spotless as a ripe Syrian lemon, the rare flavour of his tobaccos, the frequency of his coffee offerings, and the delicate dexterity with which the rose water is blended with the fruity sherbets. In summer, too, the chibouque of cherry-wood, brought from the Balkan, is exchanged for the lighter jessamine tube of Damascus or Aleppo, covered with fawn-coloured silk and fringed with silver.
The hills of Laodicea celebrated by Strabo for their wines, now produce, under the name of Latakia, the choicest tobacco in the world. Unfortunately this delicious product will not bear a voyage, and loses its flavour even in the markets of Alexandria. Latakia may be compared to Chateau Margaux; Gibel, the product of a neighbouring range of hills, similar, although stronger in flavour, is a rich Port, and will occasionally reach England without injury. This is the favourite tobacco of Mehemet Ali, the Pacha of Egypt. No one understands the art of smoking better than his Highness. His richly carved silver sheesha borne by a glossy Nubian eunuch, in a scarlet and golden dress, was a picture for Stephanoff. The Chibouquejee of the Viceroy never took less than five minutes in filling the Viceregal pipe. The skilful votary is well aware how much the pleasure of the practice depends upon the skill with which the bowl is filled. For myself, notwithstanding the high authority of the Pacha, I give the preference to Beirout, a tobacco from the ancient Berytus, lower down on the coast, and which reminded me always of Burgundy. It sparkles when it burns, emitting a bright blue flame. All these tobaccos are of a very dark colour.
In Turkey there is one very fine tobacco, which comes from Salonichi, in ancient Thrace. It is of a light yellow colour, and may be compared to very good Madeira. These are the choicest tobaccos in the world. The finest Kanaster has a poor, flat taste after them.
The sheesha nearly resembles the hookah. In both a composition is inhaled, instead of the genuine weed. The nargilly is also used with the serpent, but the tube is of glass. In all three, you inhale through rose-water.
The scientific votary after due experience, will prefer the Turkish chibouque. He should possess many, never use the same for two days running, change his bowl with each pipe-full, and let the chibouque be cleaned every day, and thoroughly washed with orange flower water. All this requires great attention, and the paucity and cost of service in Europe will ever prevent any one but a man of large fortune from smoking in the Oriental fashion with perfect satisfaction to himself.—New Monthly Magazine.