in gilded chains. But Wolsey saw that plain men could not and would not continue to reverence the office of the priesthood when the priests were treated as the paid officials of an earthly authority higher than their own." When, in 1534, parliament assumed to declare Henry Supreme Head of the Church of England, the government took care to disclaim any intention to decline or vary from the congregation of Christ's Church in any thing concerning the articles of the Catholic faith, or any thing declared by Holy Scripture and the Word of God. But no final rupture had then taken place with Rome. The political complications of the time, and the power of England, led Henry to imagine that, notwithstanding his selfwilled acts of defiance and sacrilege, the nation might remain in religious communion with Rome; and the statutes against the papal power, which were enacted when that expectation was given up, are to be viewed as dictated by a roused spirit of national independence and jealousy of foreign jurisdiction, rather than by any altered convictions of Englishmen on the score of doctrine. How soon the result foreseen by Wolsey came to pass, we have no present occasion to show; and having intended to confine the present article to that part of Mr. Froude's work in which he treats of the suppression of the monasteries, we need not trace the history of the early Reformation statutes, or of their victims, "whose high forms, seen in the sunset of the old faith, seem to stand on the horizon tinged with the light of its dying glory." From Fraser's Magazine. ABDALLAH AND SAID A. A TALE OF MESOPOTAMIA. THE glory of Bagdad has departed. [ consequences of plague, cholera, and, The city where a Caliph once displayed a gorgeous splendor and magnificence that astonished an embassador from Stamboul, and where Haroun-al-Raschid used to play his pranks of love and merriment attended by Jaafer the vizier and Mesroor the executioner, amid gilded halls and luxurious gardens, is now reduced to the insignificance of a dirty, second-rate Turkish town. Basrah, formerly her rival in wealth, has shared her fall; those quays and magazines which of old teemed "with the wealth of Ormuz and of Ind," are now silent and unfrequented; a population of two hundred thousand souls has been reduced to six thousand; marshes and stagnant pools have replaced her fragrant orange-groves and her rose-beds, famous as those of Shiraz. Such have been the deadliest pest of all, Turkish rule. Nor has the country fared better than the towns. All this region, like Holland, depends for its prosperity on its dykes and embankments; the remains of such works, constructed by ancient princes, are still of an extent and magnitude to arrest the traveler's eye and claim his admiration; but, having been long neglected, they have fallen into ruin, and now the greater part of the south-eastern district of Mesopotamia is a huge lake, interspersed with jungles of reed, the habitation of frogs, wild-fowl, and amphibious Arabs. The great tribe inhabiting the northern side of this peninsula, washed by the Tigris, is the "Abou Mohammed;" the tribe exercising dominion over the southern or Euphrates side, is the Montefik. The booty obtained by the plunderers proved to be of such great value, that Abdallah, who was equally feared and liked by his comrades, and who claimed no share of the spoil excepting a box containing Saida's clothes, was permitted to retain his prize unquestioned and unopposed. Both nominally acknowledge the sov- movements. "Some years ago, a wealthy merchant of Basrah, having contracted his daughter, Saida, in marriage with the son of a brother merchant in Bagdad, sent her up, with several female attendants, in one of his merchandise-boats, in order that the contract might be fulfilled. One night, while the boat was moored to the bank of the Hyeh, it was attacked by a large party of the Montefik, who, having easily mastered and bound the crew, proceeded deliberately to appropriate and carry off the bales, which promised an amount of booty exceeding their utmost expectations. In the party was a young Arab named Abdallah, famed for his daring courage, who, having made his way suddenly into the cabin, found himself in presence of the females there assembled. Saida, in her fright and confusion, had dropped the vail from her head; and he was so struck by her exceeding beauty, that he caught her up in his arms and carried her off to his reed-hut, unnoticed by his companions, who were too busily engaged in their work of plunder to pay any attention to his "The city maiden had already passed several days under the roof of her wild captor, who treated her with as much reverence as if she had been a queen, and he her subject. Her every wish was a law-her slighest word a command; but she was a prisoner on parole-for when he went out to provide for her the fattest lamb, the tenderest partridge, and the daintiest antelope, he made her promise not to leave the hut, and to draw the bolt of the rough door that he had constructed for her protection. Thus did he hunt for her, cook for her, and watch over her, as a miser over his treaure; at night, he lay on the roof of the hut, with sword and spear by his side, to guard her from all harm. In truth, the love of her had struck deep into his heart; his liver was consumed by its devouring fire, and his soul was a sacrifice to the dust beneath her feet. "And how felt that maiden toward Abdallah? Daughter of a wealthy and haughty merchant, she had never stirred beyond the luxurious precincts of her father's harem; she had never dreamt of having any will but his; and now, when she saw the proud and fiery eye of Abdallah melted into tenderness whenever it rested upon her-when she saw the graceful and sinewy limbs that daily traversed miles of desert and jungle in her service, and the muscular arm that trembled as he offered her the choicest morsels of his chase, is it to be wondered at if she sighed with emotion hitherto unknown, and if her little heart fluttered within her like a bird newly encaged? One evening they were sitting together in the hut, after having finished their simple supper; the door was open, and she was seated opposite to it, he being at a little distance, listening to her artless description of her childish days in Basrah, when a slight rustling was heard without the hut, immediately followed by a faint cry from the affrighted maiden: The lion-the lion!' To draw his sword, to envelop his left arm in the triple folds of his blanket, and to throw himself between the door and Saida, was to Abdallah the work of a moment. There, confronting him, were the glaring eyes of the jungle king. Could he enter the hut, Saida's life might be endangered: Abdallah hesitated not for an instant, but rushed at the lion, and plunged his sword into its Fruitless were the struggles of the wounded lion; in vain did it rend to shreds the blanket that enveloped Abdallah's left arm, tearing away with them several pieces of the skin and flesh. Twice and thrice did Abdallah's sword pierce the vitals of his enemy; and at length a terrific expiring groan announced the victory of the heroic Arab. "What were the feelings of Saida that night, as she bound up the lacerated arm of her deliverer? Was not her heart in her eyes and on her tongue, when she looked into his face and prayed to Allah to bless and reward him! But no word of love was spoken between them. The proverb says: "There is a road from heart to heart;' their spirits may have traveled on that road, but their thoughts were still unuttered. Abdallah's healthy and hardy frame soon recovered from the effects of the contest with the lion, and again they were sitting together in the hut after their evening meal. Saida's tone of voice and manner had of late unconsciously become more soft and tender, and she was much surprised at hearing him abruptly exclaim, in a tone of anguish, as he prepared to rush from the hut: 'Allah, Allah! I can bear this no longer.' "What has happened, Abdallah ? said Saida, holding out her tiny hand gently to detain him; have I offended you? have I done anything wrong? "No; you are an angel, a houri; O, Saida! it is I who am a monster.' 666 You, Abdallah!' said Saida, in unfeigned astonishment; 'you, who have been so kind and gentle; you, who risked your life with the lion to defend mine; you, whom I "Was the word 'love' trembling on the tip of her tongue? Perhaps it was; but maidenly reserve drove it back to her heart, and in its place there came out-You whom I have so much cause to thank.' "Saida,' said he, in a voice almost rendered fierce by contending emotions, "that lion was a lamb compared to what is here-here-here,' smiting his breast with violence as he spoke. Bolt the door, and Allah bless and protect you.' So saying, he sprang to his feet, and rushed out of the hut. "For several hours did Abdallah stride up and down, in the vain endeavor to still the tumult of passion within. He had undertaken a task which he felt to be beyond his strength-that of dwelling alone with the lovely girl who had gained entire posession of his ardent and passionate heart. His high spirit recoiled from the thought of taking any unfair advantage of the helpless situation of an unsus. pecting maiden who had not yet seen fifteen summers. Yet he thought she loved him; and when, just before he left the hut, her soft hand had rested but for a moment on his arm, her touch had vibrated like an electric shock through his frame. He felt the fierce temptation was more than he could bear. Daylight had nearly dawned ere he had mastered his stormy passion; he threw himself on his staw pallet on the roof of the hut to snatch an hour's repose before carrying out the resolution. that he had formed. Saida, too, had wept through the night; she knew not the cause of his agitation; she thought of him only as her brave defender, her kind and gentle companion; she saw that he was unhappy, and her tears flowed fast and often until she heard him seek his couch above her head, when she fell into a tranquil sleep. Abdallah had already gone out when she awoke; and the day was far advanced when he returned, bringing with him a middle-aged woman, of pleasing, matronly appearance, whom he presented to her, saying: 'Saida, this is my mother's sister; she is a widow, and has no children; she will be to you a mother and a companion." the "Saida received her protector's aunt with a sweet smile of welcome and a kiss on the cheek, that inclined the matron's heart to her at once. They soon became intimate, and attached to each other; and Abdallah, having voluntarily made the presence of his aunt at once a check upon his own tumultuous passion and upon scandal which busy tongues might whisper against Saida, recovered his spirits, and resumed the labors of the chase to provide dainties for the table of his beloved. For a short time all went smoothly and pleasantly in the hut; but this happiness was soon destined to interruption. One day the chief sheik of the tribe sent for Abdallah, and, on his obeying the summons, said to him: 666 'My son, the agent of Mansour, the Basrah merchant, is arrived, and is charged to pay us the ransom of the women whom we took from his boat. That of the servants we have already fixed; his daughter is with you; and as you shared not in the spoil, it is for you to name and receive her ransom.' "Sell Saida!' cried Abdallah, while the heaving of his breast and the swelling veins of his forehead attested the violence of the storm that raged within. 'Never-never! not if› "Peace, my son,' interrupted the old sheik. 'Listen to the words of one who was your father's friend, and cast them not to the winds. Mansour the merchant is rich, and has the ear of the Pasha of Basrah. We are not now, as our forefathers were, able to laugh at the beards of these Turks; for our fathers could plunder them, beat them, and yet, when occasion required, could retire into the desert, where no Turk dared to follow. We now have fields of rice and wheat; we have pastures with thousands of sheep and buffalo; we have palmgroves that bear many thousands loads of dates. If we refuse to ransom this maiden according to custom, all the forces of the Pasha will be sent against us, and we must abandon our fruits and our crops-perhaps even our flocks and herds; therefore be persuaded, my son; name the ransom of this maiden, to which you are well entitled-suffer her to depart, and avert these misfortunes from our tribe.' “Fierce was the struggle in Abdallah's breast, but it was not of long duration; pride, regard for his tribe, and habitual deference to his aged chief, triumphed over his passion. "It shall be as you desire,' he said; 'but I will not see this bargaining agent; I will write to the maiden's father myself. Be pleased to call your kâtib.' แ "Having affixed his silver seal to this letter, Abdallah saluted his chief, and returned with a heavy heart to the hut. We will pass briefly over the few days that elapsed ere the preparations for the return of Saida, accompanied by her female attendants, were completed. The morning arrived, and Abdallah, feeling that the adieu would unman him, rushed into the jungle and disappeared, having left his aunt to give his farewell messages to Saida. The Basrah maiden's heart had whispered to her its secret, now that she was about to leave her protector's hut. She could not pronounce his name, but she wept in silence, with her face pressed against the matron's shoulder. "Give him this,' she said, as, with a broken voice, she detached a gold chain from her neck; 'let him wear it, and believe that my prayers to Allah are for him, and "Sobs choked the poor girl's utterance, as the matron gently placed her on the mule sent to bear her to the boat which was to convey her to Basrah. "Weeks and months have passed; Saida had recounted to her parents the story of the lion, and the gentleness, the courage, the devotion of her protector, whose proud and generous letter had moved the heart of her father; for, to do him justice, although a stern, imperious man, and ardent in pursuit of gain, he was not of a mean or niggard spirit, and loved his daughter even better than his money; but he had not penetrated the secret of her heart, though it had not escaped the quicker feminine perception of her mother. His word had been given to his friend in Bagdad, and, in fulfillment of his engagement, Saida was ere long sent up thither, accompanied by her mother, himself proposing to follow as soon as certain affairs which demanded his presence at Basrah should be terminated. "Saida's voyage to Bagdad was performed without interruption or accident; and in spite of the deep sadness which had lately crept over her spirits, she was soon called upon to receive the visits of her affianced lover. He came attended by his father; and she sate by her mother's side, her face completely concealed by the long vail, through the upper gauze of which she was able to see the features of her intended. A shudder passed through her frame as she saw their mean and sinister expression, and his form emaciated by early debauchery and disease. His father | pride took fire, and he scrupled not to soon took his leave, and the son remained, break off the engagement. Having done aiming dull and insipid compliments at this, and received Saida's grateful thanks Saida through her mother. The latter for so doing, he assured her that now he happened to go for a moment into the ad- would find for her the best and worthiest joining room to bring her handkerchief, husband in Bagdad. But the smile came and during her absence a large rat, which not back to her lip, nor the rose to her had missed its footing while crossing a cheek; and the grieved father saw his once rafter of the ceiling, fell to the ground be- blooming child daily wasting before his tween Saida and her admirer. The latter, eyes from some unknown and unexplained frightened out of his wits, jumped up and disease. One day, when talking on this ran out of the room. Saida laughed aloud, subject with his wife, she found courage and her laugh astonished her mother, to say to him: who had not seen a smile on her face for weeks; for it was a laugh strangely compounded of mirth, and scorn, and anguish. "What are you laughing at, my child?' inquired her mother. "Because,' she replied, you have taken me from a man who risked his own life to save mine from a lion, and you give me to that thing who runs away from a rat!' "It was not long ere the merchant arrived at Bagdad, and learned how matters stood. Saida looked upon her intended with undisguised abhorrence; neither did he stand much higher in the opinion of her mother. Observation soon satisfied the merchant that his intended son-in-law was a worthless and disreputable scamp; and on his hinting at these failings to the youth's father, the latter answered with such insolent violence, that the merchant's "O my husband, be not angry; but know you not that Saida is dying of love for Abdallah, who saved her life from the lion? If you refuse your consent, or give her to another, she will soon be in her grave.' "For some time the merchant's pride rebelled against this strange and unusual alliance; but at length his parental fondness gained the day, and adopting the Moslem consolation that it was kismet (destiny) and the will of Allah, he gave his consent. The arrangements for the marriage were soon completed; the roses speedily returned to Saida's blooming cheek and lip: and never was seen such a feast among the Montefik as on the day when the Pearl of Basrah became the bride of Abdallah, the lion-slayer of the Hyeh." |