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men. The body of a man with the head of an eagle was an early illustration of the all-seeing God; and other animals indicated other perfections. The subsequent history of the religion is that of all religions where symbolical representation supersedes a purely spiritual worship. Nearly all the native Egyptians were either soldiers or priests, and the sovereign was generally both. Jealous of popular inquiry into the mysteries of a religion of which they were the sole repositories, the priesthood willingly allowed the people to confound the creature with the Creator. Bulls, crocodiles, and cats, became objects of veneration, and, latterly, the sinking kingdom adopted the gods of the Grecian and other mythologies. Multitudinous in the objects of its worship, the religion of Egypt became a pantheism rather than a polytheism.

The only divinities who retained the worship of the whole Egyptian nation were the Triad to whom Phile was sacred-Isis (called Myrionymus, from the number of her titles), the 'Queen of Heaven,' and the 'Mother of the Child'-Horus her son, and Osiris her husband, the Manifester of Good and Truth. This beneficent deity, who appeared upon the earth for the benefit of men, was put to death by the malice of the evil one, was buried and rose again, and became the final judge of all the dead. His burial and resurrection occupy a prominent place in the sculptures of his temple. It has been conjectured that Moses refrained from any direct allusion to a future state, being afraid to awaken in the minds of the Hebrews a remembrance of the Egyptian faith in the great tribunal of Osiris.

The same romantic scenery which surrounds Phile with so many beauties, extends along the banks of the Nile for some distance both above and below the cataracts. Having wandered, on one occasion, to these rapids, I sat down upon the crags that hem in the chief torrent. The rocks around, dark, smooth, and shining, closely resemble burnished bronze, and have, when struck, the same ringing metallic sound. They seem as if they had boiled up from the seething caldron beneath them. For a few moments the solitude was complete, and no sound was heard save the rushing of the waters. But suddenly, as if the rocks, which in colour they resembled, had given them birth, dark, imp-like figures started up from every nook and crevice, and sprung to

wards me from cliff to cliff. The spirits of the cataract seemed to have started up around me. Some fifty Nubians and negroes leaped among the rocks for an instant, and then, plunging into the stream, their black heads dotting the foamy torrent, and striking out their arms alternately in front of them, they swam swiftly to the lower extremity of the cataract. Landing, panting and breathless, they gasped out, 'Backsheesh! backsheesh!'

Though the 20th of January, the sun smote scorchingly down upon the smooth shining rocks, while the sparkling foam and the rushing torrent below, looked deliciously cool and inviting. Could all these imps of darkness play with the vortex, and enjoy its freshness, and yet not I? The temptation was strong, and the mesmerism of the scene irresistible. Enlisting two of the sable squadron as aidsde-camp, I quickly prepared to join in the aqueous sport. One Nubian I placed sentry over my clothes, the other I signalled was to watch over myself. Both understood signs to admiration. Plunging into the chief cataract, my amphibious companion leaped instantly after me. Down, down, down, far deeper than I had anticipated, the fierce stream sucked me, and then, without a volition of my own, I found myself rushing upwards, to be thrown half out of the water. My attendant, who must have been much more quickly at the surface, and who seemed to be wondering as to my whereabouts, was soon at my side, and the blacks on the shore shouted frantically, and beckoned the direction in which I ought to swim. But the strong current gave me no choice, and, fortunately, small space for reflection. Now whirling me round, now dragging me under, and then again tossing me above the surface, it swept me swiftly onwards, and carried me, in its own way, into a basin of tranquil waters. For some moments I was speechless from exhaustion, but shouting 'backsheesh!' with my first breath, the Nubians understood the joke, and hailed me with many manifestations of applause, but when I scattered some handfuls of paras among my naked constituency, no favourite at an election was ever more outrageously popular.

The colour of the natives had grown gradually darker as we approached the tropic, and on reaching Nubia, we found the population almost black. The labour

ers in the field, like the fellahs of Egypt, wore no clothing whatever, save one tight bandage round the loins, and many of the women had no covering, save a leather apron, little larger than the original fig leaf.

They appeared, however, very fond of rude ornaments, bracelets of glass and ivory, necklaces of beads, and large rings in the nostril, as well as in the upper and under portion of the ear. Both sexes delight in being steeped in a solution of grease. We found a colony of Nubians so low down as Esne, where one young woman attracted the attention of the party by her extraordinary obesity. The stout old sheikh of the tribe, thinking, apparently, that we ought to admire his person as much as we seemed that of his almost circular clanswoman, suddenly stripped off every rag he wore, and strutted about in front of all his tribe, uttering, at the same time, what seemed to be self-laudatory exclamations.

Had wishes been able to waft us, we should have sailed onwards, ever onwards, to Abyssinia, or the Mountains of the Moon, but we had reached the limits of our pilgrimage, and with reluctance we turned our vessel's prow, and glided towards the north. Stopping to visit those places we had not touched at during our upward voyage, we leisurely descended the river. The döm-palms were left behind us, and again we saw the fields of sugar-cane and tobacco, and the endless harvests of Lower Egypt, where, during every season of the year, some crop has to be reaped.

Whilst sailing past some high cliffs, we observed two naked figures running along a ledge of rock. Presently they plunged into the water, and, with loud cries, ridiculously strove to overtake the boat, which was already much in advance, and going very fast.

It turned out these men were mendi*The döm, or Theban palm, has a most peculiar appearance. Unlike the date palm, it is a short bushy tree, the leaves being (though considerably larger) exactly the shape of a lady's fan, fully spread. Stiff and fibrous, they all start bolt upright from the branches, whilst the fruit resembles clusters of enormous walnuts. The tree does not grow in Lower Egypt.

cant monks, brethren of a Coptic convent amidst the rocks. These amphibious ecclesiastics spend their time in watching the boats of travellers, and swimming swiftly after them, bellow for 'backsheesh.

One day a strong wind blew up the river, raising a thousand curling waves, which made the mighty Nile look more sea-like than its wont; and ever and anon came clouds of sand, drifting so thickly, that, when they passed, it was impossible to see a hundred yards before us. Unfortunately, in the midst of this storm our vessel ran on a sand-bank, and stuck hard and fast in the middle of the river. To try to get her off, the sailors got into the small boat, and one of them for some purpose leaped into the river. Perhaps he imagined the water was not beyond his depth, or he may have mistaken the strength of the current. Be that as it may, Arab though he was, he was quickly swept away. Alarm was not instantaneously taken, and in a minute's time the man was carried far down the stream. Then a cry arose to save him, and the men in the boat strained at the oar with all their might, but the wind, beating strongly against them, made their progress painfully slow. The Arab, who had at first wisely made for the shore, afterwards turned, and attempted to meet the boat by facing the stream, but the current carried him backwards, and he was already almost choked by the waves, which lashed over him in rapid succession. We scarcely dared to breathe during that terribly exciting race, which death appeared to be upon the point of winning. The strength of the men in the boat was waning, that of their comrade was gone. Once he flung up his arms, and gave a long, wild cry, and all seemed over, when a providential lull of the wind enabled the boat to shoot forward, and the man was saved.

I have seen men and women struggling with death in the water, and have seen them sink helplessly to rise no more alive, but this was the only occasion on which I had the pain of witnessing

The convulsive splash,
The solitary shriek, the bubbling cry,
Of a strong swimmer in his agony.'

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE MEDITERRANEAN.

Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown furze, anything.'-The Tempest.

From on board the French steamer Egyptus, at Alexandria, we waved a final adieu to the two companions with whom, for four thousand miles, we had travelled over those portions of the world which, to the end of time, will continue to draw distant wanderers to their shores, pilgrims eager to visit those lands that have been the cradle of the human race, the theatre of events the most renowned in story, the birth-place of our religion, as well as the soil from whence sprang all our lore, and all our learning. Our friends were bound for Trieste, we for Marseilles. Our voyage, as far as Malta, was as pleasant as fine weather, a fine ship, a gentlemanly captain, and a polite set of officers, could make it.

On quitting the island, we left behind us all that had remained of the warmth of Egypt; and cold, dense fogs for some time hung around the vessel. Suddenly the mist drew up like a curtain, the sun shone out, and we saw the wild hills of Sicily close on our starboard bow. I looked upon them not without emotion, as they seemed to bring before me a glimpse of bygone years. Once before, returning as then from foreign travel, I had threaded these hills, a roving lad, with Frenchmen for companions, free and careless as myself-as young, and far more gay.

'We were a gallant company,

Riding o'er land, and sailing o'er sea-
Oh, but we went merrily!

We forded the river, and clomb the high
hill,

Never our steeds for a day stood still;
Whether we lay in the cave or the shed,
Our sleep fell soft on the hardest bed;
Fresh we woke upon the morrow;
All our thoughts and words had scope;
We had health, and we had hope,
Toil and travel, but no sorrow;
And through the wide world might ye
search,

Nor find a motlier crew, nor blither.'

No man can say he has really known the joys of travel whose first pilgrimage was not performed in boyhood. Ah, 'mi lord Anglais,' and your excellent middleaged 'pater-familias,' with your accomplished couriers, who cater for you, speak for you, bully for you, think for you, do you VOL. III.

really imagine that you have travelled, because you have been transported in your commodious carriages from one 'lion' to another, along the highways of Europe?

But my thoughts were recalled from the past to the present by the rapidly rising wind and the gathering waves, over which our ship swept gaily, driven by a breeze that was full in our favour.

The bounding motion was delightful, and we enjoyed it without a thought of storms; but, as night drew on, the captain, foreseeing rougher weather, had every spar secured, and made the ship as 'snug' as possible. It might be about ten at night, just after we had comfortably 'turned in,' when a sudden change of motion told us that the wind had veered about. No longer sweeping smoothly on, the ship began to roll and pitch. This speedily increased, till at length it was scarcely possible to remain in 'berths;' and, fearing to be thrown out, we stretched ourselves on the floor, holding by the fixtures. Still there was no fear, and the novelty of the scene made it almost a comic one. But our mirth was short-lived. The wind, which had been gradually rising, now blew a gale, and the sea came swelling down upon us in mountain billows, throwing the ship almost upon her side, to recover herself only at long intervals, when she swung frightfully over in the opposite direction. The struggles and indescribable noises of a small steamer in a rough sea often remind me of a rat shaken by a terrier, but there was something grand in the manner in which our large ship wrestled with the waves. One by one the lights had been thrown down and extinguished, and finally the pendant lamp of the saloon was wrenched from its place. It continued to burn, till I put it out, among a debris of broken furniture, in the midst of which it had been cast. This left us in total darkness. Water now began to ooze from every crevice, and with each lurch the crash of breaking glass and crockery sounded through the cabin. At intervals the shrill screams of a number of geese added to the wildness of the scene; but all at once this sound ceased, a wave hav

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ing swept them into the darkness, and with them the hen-coop, and one or two sheep. But suddenly a commotion was heard on deck, that to a landsman seemed to indicate that some catastrophe had happened. Had we carried guns, I should have thought they were rolling them from side to side, to help to right the ship. It was, in fact, something not altogether different. Several ponderous barrels had broken loose, and were whirling furiously about, causing much havoc in their course, and threatening to crush any one who came in their way. While thus we lay, in darkness and in dread, but still gradually becoming accustomed to the terrors of the night, the ship made one desperate plunge, as if to dive head-foremost into the deep. At the same moment, with a crash like thunder, a heavy sea struck her on the side, as if to drive her irrevocably downwards. We did not dare to breathe till we felt the vessel slowly rising. Just as she did so, a vast wave fell right upon the deck, and, sweeping along it, poured in torrents into the cabin, which it filled with water to a considerable depth. The impulse to rush on deck and look upon the worst was irresistible, and staggering to the cabin stairs, I gazed out upon the terrible scene. The wave that had seemed to us to threaten our destruction, had swept away the porch that guarded the entrance to the cabin, and I could, therefore, look around without exposing myself on deck. I could, at first, distinguish no human being, but sheet-lightning that flashed through driving hail and whirling spray, lit up the scene with a fitful glare. The ship seemed to lie upon its side, one paddle-box being level with the water, the other high in the air. A single sail, set, as I knew, to steady the vessel, appeared to landsman's eyes to be wrenching her over with all the lever of the mast.

'Oh night,

And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong!"

Three elements appeared to contend with each other whose our poor ship should be. Wild wind and stormy water, allied powers, strove to strangle her, whilst fire, the fiercest of them all, but tamed and docile, sent from below a cheering gleam, which reminded me that with strong force we were still steadily impelled. A heavy blow on the breast, from the edge

of a wave, drove me below. There were, fortunately, no passengers save ourselves, and we tried to assure each other that almost no ocean steamer was ever fairly overwhelmed - beaten to death, and drowned-in the open sea. The dismal records of steam-ship disaster almost uniformly point to accident as the cause of catastrophe. The very moment we so spoke, the idea was receiving an additional illustration, as the unfortunate passengers of the Victoria were at that instant struggling in the water in Dublin Bay, their ship having been driven on a precipice, not by storm, but by carelessOur situation was sufficiently piti

ness.

able. While I had gathered confidence, from seeing that on deck every man was quietly doing his duty, all within the cabin was already a wreck, and with every roll of the ship the water surged across the floor, whilst the ship rose so slowly, I could not banish the idea that she was waterlogged. Day brought some respitelight in itself no slight one-but with the evening the storm again increased. Indeed, it blew more violently than before, but we felt it less, being, as I afterwards learned, screened, to some extent, by the high land of Sardinia, under which we had sought shelter. After two nights of storm, calm came again. Oh! the blessing of that change! Each individual felt that within his breast which none, perhaps, could well describe. We came on deck to congratulate each other. Our gallant captain, whose brow had been deeply cut during the storm, and whose appearance showed that he too had passed through an ordeal, pressed us warmly by the hand, as he expressed his sympathy for what we had suffered. Acti labores sunt jucunde. These troubles were soon forgotten; and, landing at comfortable Marseilles, we were only reminded of our dangers past, by seeing a poor drowned child carried from the beach, a token that some ill-starred ship had battled with the storm less successfully than ours had done.

The difficulties and the delights, the pains and the pleasures of travel are over, but not the cherished remembrance of the scenes through which we passed; and our pilgrimage, if sometimes chequered by discomfort, and even by danger, will nevertheless remain in our memories

'A thing of beauty, and a joy for ever.'

SISTER ANNE.

BY THE AUTHOR OF LOVE IN IDLENESS.'

CHAPTER VIII.

MISS BLACKBURN'S VISITERS.

A MAY morning, fresh, sweet, and bright; the soft air ringing with the songs of birds, and fragrant with flowers, that covered bank and slope, woody nooks and secret dells of the contented earth; tender clouds, islanding the blue heaven; and the gracious sunshine upon all-pure, and serene, and hopeful, as only spring sunshine ever is.

Mr Joy lifted up his face to that same sunshine, and paused long in his occupation. It was that of planting out young geraniums in the flower-borders immediately under the windows of his mistress's favourite sitting-room. At one of these windows occasionally appeared the face of Miss Blackburn. She was pacing up and down the apartment, it seemed, and ever and anon stopped and looked out, with eyes that borrowed no light or clearness from the morning. The dark, mobile face was disturbed; and restlessness and anxiety were evident enough in her every look and movement. Presently she opened the window:

'Joy, have you sent the flowers to Thornhill?'

'Half-an-hour ago, ma'am. Likewise the 'sparrer-grass and the strawberries. Little Jim took 'em.'

'Has he returned yet?'

'No, ma'am. He's a slow boy, is Jim, partick'ler at this time o' year. You see the primroses and such like are a temptation to him. He always comes back with a great bunch stuck in his hat. Also, he's set his mind on getting the first branch of May blossom. He does, every year, and it hinders him of his arrands, I don't deny. But bless you, ma'am, it's very natural.'

I shall want him to go to Thornhill again as soon as he returns,' said his mistress; 'he must take word that I have to stay at home to-day. I am hourly expecting the arrival of a friend who is coming from London to see me, so that I shall not be able to go to Miss Dynevor as I had arranged.'

'Poor young lady, she did look bad, surely, yesterday, when I see her a-sitting at the window; just for all the world

like a flower that's come out too soon, and got nipped, and blown about, and all the colour dried out of it. It quite vexed me to see it, so it did. She seemed such a nice, quiet young lady, too,' went on Mr Joy, leaning on his spade, and assuming an air of meditative concern, 'and took a deal of interest in the garden. And she was just beginning to know about the place. I used to meet her early in the mornings when I rode to the postwalking along the north road, or the woodlane-walking at a pace. For all that, though, she didn't lock special strong.'

'No. But she will get stronger now. Hillington air will make her strong, Joy, depend upon it.'

If anything will, ma'am,' he returned, with grave confidence. But you see, sometimes, air don't seem to be the thing that's wanted to set people to rights. Don't you remember the young lady they brought here last April two years-her as died the evening before her wedding day? How the doctors said she'd be sure to get well in this healthy, pleasant place, and how her father and mother believed it, and even her husband that was to be got quite bright-like about it. And yet there she lies under the white stone in our churchyard, close to the wood she was so fond of. Poor young thing!'

'I remember her,' said Miss Blackburn, softly, half to herself. She added, in a quick, almost peevish tone, 'I don't see what all this has to do with Miss Dynevor.

You are of a terribly lugubrious turn of mind, Joy;' and she turned away, leaving him to pursue his work in happy ignorance of the meaning of the adjective she had applied to him.

Jim returned; the note was written and despatched; and Miss Blackburn sat down, and began her knitting. A wonderful piece of handiwork was that knitting. Intended for a window-curtain, and wrought in a pattern specially devised for its easiness of execution and simplicity of stitch, it existed as a perpetual remembrancer and inexorable diary of its maker's 'states of mind.' An English day, all sunshine, would be no greater marvel than a single row of Miss Blackburn's knitting without a mistake. She was precisely of that vehement, im

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