of mud, are very extensive, but they only mark the modern site of the city. The insalubrity of Balkh is proverbial, and this calamity may be traced to the very effect of its former greatness. The eighteen beautiful aqueducts, by which it was irrigated, no longer guided by the art of the husbandman, have spread their waters over the face of the country, and transformed its fair landscape into a stagnant march.

"From Balkh to the Oxus is almost a desert; camps of Túrkomans occur in some places, and the sand-hills are well clothed with bushes. The high road was considered unsafe, and we followed the downward course of the valley. At one spot only we required an escort of Túrkomans, who are themselves the robbers, but find it more advantageous to compromise their habits by an easily-earned recompense. On the 15th of June, after travelling twelve hours, the day dawned upon the shores of the Oxus, and we encamped upon its margin; a point that had so long been in prospect, and glimmered through so many vague and ill-defined ideas of difficulty and peril, was now at our feet, and we were not satisfied till our feet were actually in its cool waters; and here we sat, slept, and passed three entire days, with more ease than we dare expect upon the banks of the Ganges, for here we had neither alligators nor enemies of any kind to dread.

"The Oxus is a splendid river, here exhibiting an expanse and volume fully equal to our expectations or its appearance as given in the map; but I should say of inferior magnitude compared with the vast extent of country of which it is the drain, and where deserts and arid mountains occupy so large a portion. The Hindú Kúsh generates but a scanty tribute from its snow, and but few supplies are derived from the north; the great body of the water coming from the south-east and east, where the intersections of the Himalaya define the course of the streams to the Indus, and branching northward, give origin to the rivers which wash the Chinese frontier of Yarkund and Kashghar, the whole of which tract, from the limit of Kundur in one direction and Bokhara itself in another, is a blank in geography. It is true, the sources of the Oxus are pretty well ascertained, and the travels of Meer Izzat Oolla have sketched the configurations of the country north-west of Ladák; but the height, extent, and nature of the mountains which intervene between Leh and Yarkúnd, and along the north-west branches of the Indus and Hindú Kúsh, are wholly unknown. "The stream of the Oxus is muddy, like that of our Indian rivers; but confined within marginal banks, bearing a stiff vegetation, it has a more regular channel, and rolls with greater rapidity; where we crossed it, the expanse of bed was divided by islands, and the current assumed various degrees of size and velocity, the largest with a rate exceeding three miles per hour and a depth of twenty feet. As no rain falls in this country, the whole mass of water is liquefied snow. It is impossible to form a comparative estimate of the actual bulk, but it can scarcely equal the Indus at Attock. The ferries are ill-supplied with boats, but the boats themselves are substantial fabrics, and are built more after the model of our sloops than any thing I have seen in India; but the people have no idea of navigation; their oars are of the rudest kind, only one or two in a boat, but the chief impulse depends upon horses, which are fastened on each side of the bow, and by their exertions to swim, drag the boats across the currents. I never heard of such a practice, and almost doubted it till we witnessed the spectacle. There are no fords downwards to its debouche in the Aral; but in winter it freezes over in several places, sufficiently strong to bear the transit of the káfilas, which is singular in a parallel of latitude under 40°, and at very inconsiderable elevation. The bed of the river, where

we crossed it, scarce attains the level of the Punjáb rivers, in the line of our route, as well as we can estimate by the boiling point of our thermometers, which are the only means left us.

"From the Oxus to Bokhara is more or less a desert tract, and the surface of the soil undergoes every modification of barrenness, from the hills just sprinkled with vegetation, to the hard-baked floor and dead sand-heaps. The first four days no villages, but camps of Túrkomans, were passed. The water was either salt or saliferous. The wind of the desert dried us like parchment, but the nights were cool and often cold; this, however, did not take place till towards day-break, and the few hours' sleep we then got were deliciously refreshing, after heaving up and down upon a camel's back all night. The face of the country was very uneven, almost hilly; we at last came to waves of pure sand, which were said to shift their position like those in the African deserts, and we eagerly looked out for the moving heaps; but all I could believe of such an occurrence, and which I saw, was the currents of loose sand raised from the surface by the wind, or blown from one place to another, the heaps themselves being immoveable en masse. At Karshi, which the map places full half-way, we were seized with fever, no doubt from the swamps of Balkh or the miasms of the Oxus. Burnes was first taken ill (some days pre viously), and here I and two of our party with a tea-merchant followed, and as I delayed, treating myself as doctors usually do, it was not until I had been a week in Bokhara, and after quantities of quinine, I recovered; but the poor merchant died.

"I had almost forgotten to mention that we paid a visit to the desolate grave of poor Moorcroft at Balkh. It was a bright moon-light night, and our Haji, who attended his remains to the earth, showed us the way to the spot, which lay amidst marshes, and I could not help thinking that these very marshes had caused the melancholy event. We were surprised to hear that the severities of fortune, which accompanied Moorcroft's career from the beginning, had pursued him even beyond the grave, and that the burial-place was barely permitted to his remains, upon the skirts of the city, and on the outside of a garden-wall. The spot is retired, and had we not been guided to it by one who had witnessed the interment, we might have searched or inquired in vain for the site. We were unprepared for such a spirit of odious prejudice as seems to have prevailed against this lamented individual, for the same feelings did not exist in regard to Mr. Trebeck. Mr. Guthrie's body is contiguous. Those solitary receptacles have for the first time been seen by an European eye, and remote as they are from friends or countrymen, they are nevertheless unmolested, where they themselves while living had gained, by their praiseworthy conduct, a respect and remembrance that will long be cherished in Túrkistan; and if they encountered some tyrants and wretches in their long travels, they met with many friends and well-wishers, and have left the name of Englishman with all the honours which we most covet. At Karshi we had a specimen of the gardens which poets have celebrated in their descriptions of Samarkhand and Bokhara; we lay amidst apricots and ice, and I enjoyed both, in spite of an ague that almost shook me to pieces. We heard of slaves for sale here, and a young Hindu of our party, a clever and promising lad, from the Delhi institution, whose thirst for knowledge leads him into many strange situations, has the following dialogue in his journal about the traffic. It is headed A Trick or Jest for a Slave Girl;' and I extract it literally :

“On my return from bazar, I besought a man to shew me the house of

the merchant who sells men and women, which I reached after traversing very hot streets. The merchant received me civilly, and sent for three women from a room adjoining to that which was his own. He told them to sit before me, and then inquired of me which I liked to buy. I replied to him, the young one, who had regular features, was mild and attractive, her stature elegant, though below the middle size; her wit and vivacity exceeded even her allurements. In the mean time, the two others, who were neither ugly nor beautiful, stood up and went in their rooms; the young one followed soon after but sat in a separate place, guarded by a very old man. I was told by the merchant to go in the same room, to speak, to laugh and to content the girl. I sat out to the girl, and conversed in the following manner: “I love you and like to buy you; are you contented and pleased with me?" She smiles and says, ** No, I do not like you;" because she is afraid, perhaps, I sell her to another, after enjoying my own gratification. After much altercation, she says, 'Very well, I should swear not to sell her again and make please to her master." The old man, who sat by the door, told her to stand and to shew me her whole body, according to the custom; which means, perhaps, that there be not any sort of disorder in her person. All her body was crystalline; her age was thirteen or fourteen years. I talked with her a long time on various subjects, inquiring her nativity and birth: she said her home was in Badakhshán, and she had a large family: she was ravished by the ruler of the country and sold to this merchant. On saying this, she brought a flood of tears in her eyes, and said, "For God's sake, buy soon and release me from the hands of this unmerciful Uzbek." It made me very sorry; I cursed the ruler, and bestowed a malediction on her merchant who troubles her. I instantly got up and came away to my camp, without seeing or telling any word to the merchant, as I had not inclination to buy her. The experience and fun induced me to make a trick for investigating the principles at slave-merchants, who I see are very miserable, criminal, savage, and unmerciful men indeed.'

"The remaining four marches to Bokhara had less of the desert in them; the undulations continued: also sand and salt-water. Sometimes the true and unlimited horizon was spread before the eye. At last, on the 27th of June, we arrived in this fine city, which had a few months before appeared so remote and uncertain. The usages of the Mahomedan government are here extremely strict, and the precepts of their religion are fulfilled with awful rigour. Dress for all infidels is strictly defined and peremptorily imposed, and if we are naturally obnoxious to their sight, our dress adds to the spectacle. A black cap on our head, and a rope round our waist, are particularly interesting. We were allowed to reside in a private house, after some little remonstrance; a public serai is our proper dwelling-place. We cannot ride within the walls of the city, and must push our way through the densely-peopled streets, which detracts considerably from our interest in the scenes of the bazar, and in our walks in an atmosphere so warm and dusty. Moorcroft was permitted to ride, but he was in character, and brought presents for the king and his courtiers; but this privilege was only granted on condition that his Mahomedan syces should accompany him mounted, as they could not be seen on foot attending an infidel on horseback. The garments of all other unbelievers are similar to those in which we are accoutred, such as Hindus, Armenians and Jews, and these last we especially resemble in every thing except their features. The restriction we feel most, is being unable to write, Asiat. Journ. N.S. VOL. 12. No.46. R

but this is more our fault, or our courtesy, than any actual prohibition of the state, for we can clude suspicion by writing at night.

Upon the whole, our reception at Bokhara, if not remarkable for distinction or favours, neither of which we had the least claim to, has been sufficiently respectab'e and civil; and with the people, whether in the crowded bazars, in public serais, in private converse, or in the mosques, our name and country have been a recommendation, instead of a pivot for insult and ignominy; and this too in a city notoriously orthodox in religious duties, and where Mahomedan principles of every kind are fearfully arbitrary. We have not heard the epithet of Kafir from one end of our journey to the other; and only at one place, near Attock, some boys used the expression of money. Wherever we have gone and appeared as Europeans, that character has been respected; and we may depend upon it that the nine of Englishman, whether this is understood by Feringi or Angrez, if assumed with discretion, is our best passport.

"The bazars here are splendid, and the police regulations admirable. Bokhara is a large and populous city, eight miles in circuit, and exceeding any we have met with in our journey. There are many fine colleges and other buildings; the Uzbeks are a handsome race, but the Jews (more especially the Jewesses) carry off the palm of beauty. There is more religion, more law and justice, and more crime, than in any place of equal size in Asia; but property and life are safer than in most cities in the world, whether civilized or savage. The people here are much more familiar with the Russians than with the English, and another Russian embassy is soon expected at Bokhara. People from all parts of the world, except China, are seen here. Every body drinks tea, generally after our fashion, but without milk; there is a kind of tea called banka, which comes viâ Russia from China; it costs ten rupees and is very fine-flavoured, and it is said that a sea-voyage injures it. The banka tea goes from China to Russia by a direct road, avoiding Yarkund, as by being packed up in small canisters it will not bear export by the mountainous route, and by coming here from Orenburgh it thus attains a very high price: the tea-trade is immense. We first saw loaf-sugar at Khulm, and it is the same as we have at home. Many people in Bokhara wear watches, all of London mechanism. In the bazar, we see tea-urns with the red hot iron in the middle to keep the water warm, and many things remind us of Europe.

"We have tried horse's flesh, and having beef all the same time, we gave the preference to the former; but whatever Elphinstone says about horse's flesh being the food of any part of the people, it is at least very rare, and beef is far from frequent.

"The climate is warmer than is agreeable; in fact it is sultry, but dry and otherwise delicious, the sun shining out his entire course and not a cloud in the air. The nights are generally cool, but we find sleeping in the air necessary for comfort; the usual range of the temperature outside is from 74° to 103°, rising to 106° in the streets: we loathe the air in a room heated to 96° and even 110°, and although sitting quietly we feel it rather disagreeable; but in so arid a climate, the sensation is less oppressive at this degree of temperature than at 80° in India, at the same season. The most singular part of the climate is the intense cold of winter, which freezes such a stream as the Oxus. The blocks of solid ice in the bazars here, indicate the severity of the weather, and can only be explained by the extreme dryness of the air." "Bokhara, 15th July 1832."

THE SECRET.

WHEN I was a junior employed in the vicinity of Berar, amongst other native oddities,-I was fond of searching for curiosities of all kinds,-1 met with a strange sort of a man, who had something to do, but I could never understand what, at the court of the Bhonslah. This man seemed a being sui generis completely, the only one of his race. His features were like those of a European, but his complexion was as dark as that of a native, though it seemed to want its peculiar tinge. He professed to be a Musulman, and conformed to all the outward forms of the Muhammedan creed, but he scrupled not to ridicule many of their dogmas. He avowed his belief in some of the Hindu tenets, such as abstinence from flesh, and the metempsychosis. He once told me he was in no haste to die, for be expected to inhabit, in his next stage of existence, the carcass of a tiger. I used to court this man's conversation a good deal, for there was always something piquant and wild about it. I remember pressing him to tell me his history. He began very readily by stating that his great-great-grandfather was a Chinese, who, upon an invasion, was carried into Mongolia, and fled to the north of Persia, where he married a Toorkee woman. He had a large family; the eldest son went to Russia and married an Armenian at Moscow. One of his sons went on a Russian voyage of discovery to the northern coast of America, and settled there to collect furs and skins. He got into a deadly quarrel with the savages, and was offered the alternative of either being tortured to death and eaten, or of marrying a woman of the tribe, and becoming one of them: he chose the latter, and received the hand of the handsomest (alias the ugliest) of their squaws. By this lady he was blessed with a numerous progeny, so frightful that he could not bear the look of them; and so, selecting the least hideous, he left the rest to the care of his wife, and got back to Russia, where he travelled to his patrimonial seat in Persia. "His son," he continued, "by his ugliness, won the affections of the wife of an English soldier, who had run away from her husband, who had run away from Bombay, and I was the only pledge of their tender affection; so that you find I have a strange mixture of blood in my veins."

I could not regard this account, of course, as a genuine history; and it only made me more curious to penetrate the mystery of the relator. But he was too cautious; and if I inquired of his native acquaintance, I always received a different account, though each affirmed it was the true

one.

It was evident to me that this man was superior to what he would be thought; that he was familiar with European science and topics, and had a sovereign contempt for the civilization to which he nominally belonged. It was plain to me, too, that something preyed upon his mind, which he would fain be rid of. I tried to gain his confidence. At first, my attempts seemed to put him on his guard; but by degrees he appeared rather to covet my society, and my gentle probing gave him no uneasiness.