winds, are half smothered with rich foliage; and all these riches, forsooth, are provided by us: we have no rest, but are obliged to labour constantly to supply light and air to our masters. Why should we longer endure this tyranny? Why not assert our rights? we have but to unite our powers and make one grand effort all together, and the system of oppression will crumble to the dust! We, who are now trampled upon by the overfed trunk and branches, shall soon have the glorious opportunity of treading down our spoilers! Rouse yourselves! my brother Twigs! Arm yourselves for the combat! and doubt not but our noble cause, which, as the foreign breeze justly said, is the cause of the whole vegetable fraternity, will be crowned with unprecedented success!"

The principal speaker here ceased, amid renewed rustle of applause. The upper boughs were not altogether undisturbed by their emotion, and the branches and the trunk heard the unwonted sound with surprise, as the air was too calm to account for the commotion in the twigs: but they were too much engaged in planning and providing for the good of the whole to pay much attention to it. However, one of the boughs, which supported a due proportion of these discontented twigs, and whose quiet usefil business was much interrupted by their emeute, as soon as he could obtain a hearing, said, "My friends, be so good as to listen, while I say a few words on the subject which I have heard you discussing, with more zeal than wisdom, as it appeared to me.

"You complain (1) that in the constitution of this great kingdom, all the labour is yours, while the trunk and the branches are idle.

2. "That they consume and fatten upon that sustenance which our

mother earth bountifully provides for all.

3. "That they are endowed with a superfluity of wealth, while each one of you has only a small pittance of leaves.

4. "That your office in this constitution is mere slavery, for you have no rest, but are constantly producing good things to be conveyed away immediately for your masters benefit.

You

"Now, as I occupy a middle station between you and them, I suppose I may be a pretty fair judge of the true state of things; and I am persuaded that nothing but ignorance of it could induce you to lend an ear to the wild jargon of that vagabond wind, that has so much moved you. Now, consider calmly what your position really is. are altogether a vast body of individuals, each one continually supplied with nourishment from-you seem not to know from whence, but I can tell you, for I have the honor to be one of the humble, but I hope not less useful, channels to convey it to you, I myself receiving this nourishment from the branches, they from the trunk, and the trunk from our mother earth.

"It is true the proportion which the trunk receives is infinitely greater than that which each one of you has; but you must please to consider that this is the supply for the whole community, which, by its wide-spreading roots, and with unceasing labour, is drawn from a distance to be conveyed through the trunk and branches to you. There the labour began, long before you were in existence; and I, who, a year or two since, was in your position, can testify that yours is by far the less anxious and irksome part of the toil.

66

Again, as to the abundance of their possessions. What are their outward riches, but that which is

the ornament of all? There, indeed, you do contribute to it, for it is the combination of all your leaves, each in its own place, which makes the beauty of this majestic tree. And, remember, that if your leaves are few, they are as many as you each want in your station, and as many as you would know what to do with. As for the slavery, you are the freest, and perhaps might be the happiest portion of the community. Raised up above those very branches which you envy, you live in the free air of heaven. The sunshine and the breeze, the soft dews and refreshing showers, are yours to enjoy without restraint; while your masters know but little of these pleasures. As to your grudging the tribute of your leaves when you can no longer keep them, let me tell you that you owe your own existence, probably, to this tribute having been richly paid by former generations of twigs. Remember, again, that whatever contributes to the nourishment of the roots, is carried up through the trunk, branches, and boughs to the remotest twig on this great tree.

"Thanks to this, you are all now green and thriving, but once cut yourselves off, or leave your appointed station, through the vain hope of bettering your condition, and you will soon find that, instead of rising, you will have sunk from your high place into utter nothing

ness."

For a few moments there was a lull. The wiser portion of the disaffected began to think that there was a great deal of truth and sense in what the bough had said; but there was still a considerable number of those who had been poisoned by the foreign wind, who persisted in their former discontent, and declared that the wise old bough was leagued with the tyrants against the poor twigs; and, accordingly, they

summoned a meeting, and after a certain number of exciting speeches resolved that they would unite with one strong effort to obtain their rights of equality; equality with the proud trunk and branches: and in order to accomplish this, they fixed a day for the complete uprooting and overthrow of the whole

tree.

The day arrived. Early in the morning might be heard once more the rustling of the twigs in the calm still air. They intended that it should have been so general as to carry dismay and confusion through all the departments of the tree, and they used their utmost efforts, by violent swaying, and twisting, and rustling, until at length they succeeded in-breaking themselves off from the parent stem. Some lodged for a time in the lower boughs, some were carried to a little distance by the breeze before their final fall, but by sun-set all lay withered and dying on the ground; a warning to future rebellious twigs, that in while seeking to overturn the appointed order of things, they are but destroying themselves.

A PATTERN.

"He (Bishop Hough) always kept £1,000 in the house for unexpected occurrences, perhaps to pay funeral expenses or legacies. One day the collectors of one of the noble societies in this country came to him to apply for his contribution. The Bishop told his steward to give him £500. The steward made signs to his master, intimating that he did not know where to get so large a sum. He replied, 'You are right, Harrison, I have not given enough, give the gentleman £1,000; you will find it in such a place;' with which the old steward, though unwillingly, was forced to comply."Wilmot's Life of Bishop Hough.

TEARS OF PENITENCE. CAN glory fade which once shone bright? Or beauty pass away?

Can hearts, once pure, lose Heaven's clear light,

And love itself decay?

E'en so; for the regenerate child,
Born of the Spirit, undefiled,
And nurtured once by JESU mild,
May lose the heavenly ray;
And so may wander back to hell,
Unless it chance that some bright spell
Allure her, ere her funeral knell,

Into her Saviour's way.

But when the soul returns in love,
What joy among the hosts above,

O'er one poor sinner saved!
More joy than over ninety-nine
Who never left the Saviour's shrine,

Since first their robes were laved.
Like wand'ring souls, so Churches too,

Have left their early love! And Sardis number'd but a few,

Whose names were writ above. And England-how is it with thee? Hast thou retain'd thy constancy, Or hast thou left thy Spouse, to flee, And from His bowers to rove? Hast thou, like an inconstant bride, Departed from thy Lover's side, Allured by shadows vainly spied, In this world's idol-grove? But even now, if thou wilt turn, With love, and shame, and sorrow burn,

Thy Lord will yet forgive;

And angels shall rejoice and sing
Sweet Alleluias to their King,

That thou, once dead, dost live.

T. H. G.

THOUGHTS FOR PASSION-WEEK,* 1851.

OH! remember the cross of thy God, Where His arms are outstretched to

the world;

Turn to Calvary, steeped in His Blood, Where His treasures of love are un

furled.

• Passion-Week is the week preceding Palmsunday; Holy-Week is often called PassionWeck by mistake.

When to thee all is blithesome and gay, And earth's joys are inviting thy soul; Then from all its delights turn away,

And remember the Cross is thy goal.

Or when mourning and depths of despair Bring such grief as this world some

times knows,

Then reflect that thine heart is not there,

And remember the Cross and its woes.

Yea, remember the Cross of thy Lord,

How 'twas bathed in the dark crimson

stream,

As He uttered love's last patient word,

Of which world-rending pain was the

theme.

When fond parents are by thee to bless,

Or to cheer with affection's kind word, Then escape from a mother's caress,

To remember the Cross of thy Lord!

Or when brothers and sisters are fond, And surround thee with purest em

brace,

Turn away from the innocent bond,

And remember Christ's agonize Face!

From the spouse of thine heart turn away,
Turn away from affection's repose,
And escape to the strait narrow way,
Which conducts to the Cross and its
woes!

For on Calvary's Hill, is a tree

Thickly cluster'd with sweet fruits of Love!

Lay aside all thy burthens, and flee

From the midst of earth's idol-stained

grove.

Oh! escape from bonds bitter and sweet
And from all that is hated or dear!
By the Cross thou shalt find a retreat,
So remember thy home is not here!
Nay, this earth is no dwelling for thee,

And its cares should not fetter thy sou' From its pleasures or pains thou should' flee,

And remember the Cross is thy goal.

T. H. G

THE BATH.

nutes up to the neck in the hot water bath, a deep tank through which the water was perpetually

sequently, during my tour, I frequently indulged in this luxury, and seldom found any two baths alike in their system; but yet there is a sufficient resemblance to warrant

me in giving an account of this first Cairene Bath as a general type of all Eastern baths. I found the process as delightful as it has been described by almost every traveller. After undressing in a kind of public hall, (in which were many others, mostly lying down and smoking or drinking coffee and sherbet) the walls of which looked dirty through damp and age, I was wrapped in cloths and towels, and, with my feet in wooden shoes, marched by two bathing-men through the shampooing-room into the bathing-room, which latter reminded me of the baths at Pompeii. The floor was inlaid with marbles, but, the Mosaic was dilapidated, and the hall rather dirty-looking. In the centre of this hall, beneath its domed roof, was a raised stone table, of octagonal form, upon which one of my guides laid me down quite flat on my back, and rubbed me all over with wet camel's hair gloves until, in appearance, not a little of my outer skin was scraped off. They declare, however, that this is not skin, but something which fills the pores of the skin, and which cannot otherwise be removed. When this operation was ended, I was reinstated in the wooden shoes, and marched off to the hot-bath, where I found my two companions of whom I had lost sight during the scrubbing. After being some mi

one, soaped all over by means of hemp saturated in lather, and again immersed in the water. This was succeeded by the cool-chamber, where we were laid down on the

dewàn, wrapped up in calico cloths, with a towel turban on the head, shampooed, and our joints cracked. After that came the nargilis (or The order of pipes) and coffee.

bathing I found different in other places and sometimes a cold water

bath is introduced.

THE NILE-BOAT.

On the night of the 13th of December we commenced a new kind of life and embarked in our Nile-boat, in which we were to spend so many happy weeks. The cabins of the Dahabeeh or Nile-boat were furnished by ourselves. We had our own beds, our own curtains, sofa-cushions, carpets, basins, and every thing, in short, but the actual boat. It did not require many days to feel ourselves completely at home, and to make friends with our Reis (or captain) and his crew. We had an excellent Dragoman, Achmet of Alexandria, who was invaluable in making the arrangements.

On the 14th the wind was contrary, and we were delayed all day off the Island of Roda, which is laid out in gardens belonging to the Pasha. In these I spent most of the day. On the following morning we were still without wind and commenced tracking. This is a very slow process the crew towing the boat along the side of the river at foot's pace-but it enabled us to walk on the banks and sometimes

to penetrate a little way inland, especially when we took our guns and shot pigeons and other birds. On this occasion I had not taken a gun, but strolled along the riverside, passing through the village of Gizeh and its neighbouring palmgrove, enjoying the delightful morning air. Waiting until the boat should overtake me, I watched the people coming out from the village. There was an old turbaned-man driving a donkey on which a female, in blue and folding drapery, was seated. It looked, for all the world, like St. Joseph and the Blessed Virgin. Presently came a funeral out of the village. The coffin or corpse was covered with scarlet cloth, one end, indicating the position of the head, being raised and crowned with a small white turban. It was a child's body. The corpse was borne by villagers (fellahs) and followed by a large concourse of female mourners, who expressed their grief in moanings and frantic cries. One of the women, perhaps the mother, shewed greater grief than the rest. She walked immediately behind the body and raised her hand as if to clasp its feet, and then uttered a piercing cry in which she seemed to call on God to restore to her the treasure she had lost. Once or twice they halted and the moanings, which were uttered in cadence, ceased, to recommence shortly with renewed vigour. They proceeded to the side of the Great River and embarked the body in a boat, in order to convey it to a cemetery on the eastern side. A few, the mother perhaps included, accompanied the corpse in the boat, but most returned. I heard the moaning from the bark, as its latine sail filled with the wind which wafted it across the glassy waters.

Soon after breakfast the wind sprung up and favoured us all day. We saw the distant Pyramids of

Sakkära and Dashoor. The latter formed a fine foreground to a golden sunset, such as no less favoured clime could boast.

On the following day we made little progress, but early on the 17th a wind sprang up and brought us to the town of Benisouëf by one o'clock in the day. There we landed and inspected the town and its bazaars. The Nile towns are all built of unburnt bricks, and are of a brown mud colour, interspersed with a few whitened minarets, and dotted with palms which rise up among the houses. There was nothing remarkable in the bazaars, which resembled some of the inferior streets of Cairo.

On the night of Tuesday the 18th we had a sort of adventure, and adventures (however inconsiderable) are not to be despised in these matter-of fact days. The two previous days had been cloudy, and during the Monday there had been some slight showers, as if to prepare our minds for the fact, that Egypt is not altogether so rainless a climate as it has sometimes been represented. At night the rain poured down in torrents, and continued to fall (with very slight intermissions) for a space of twelve hours. About mid-day it ceased, but only to recommence in the evening. On the Tuesday morning the rain had penetrated into our cabins, and every thing felt very wretched. There was another boat of English travellers of our acquaintance, which had left Boulak at the same time as our own and had continued with us to this point. On the Tuesday evening our two boats were anchored near together on the western shore of the river, and it was agreed that our party should dine on the other boat. We had left our own boat to dine with our friends, but soon after the commencement of dinner a sudden gale of wind catching the boat on