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the boat gave a lurch, away they were sure to go | codile-headed god Sarah, the presiding lord of to leeward, where more than once he himself |Omhos. was sent bodily after them. All this, however, was
SIOUT, TUIE CAPITAL OF UPPER EGYPT. too much for poor Senore Cuoco, as we used to call him ; so he fairly gave in, winding up his day's When I ascended as high as the second range of work with the total destruction of that day's din- | tombs in the lofty mountain that lies at the back ner, not forgetting some singularly rich soup that of Siout, as if to screen it from the great African he told us he was quite famed for concocting. In desert beyond, I set about examining the fer truth, this soup was his chef-d'ouvre in the gas- sculptures that yet remain in them. The chief tronomic art; and he never could allude to it with object worth observing is the representation of a out rolling up his eyes, uttering sundry exclama- ||group of armed men, bearing on their backs huge tions, and raising his hand warblingly, as if inti- || shields that are of a Gothic shape above, but mating thereby that it was infinitely too good to broad and square at the bottom, and large enough be partaken of anywhere save in company with the to protect the whole body. These sculptures bear dark-eyed houris of paradise. Ever since we left about them all the vigour and life of those of the Cairo, he had been promising us this beatific earlier dynasties; and as this is the only place broth; and his evil genius had induced him to where such enormous defensive armour is to be select such a day as this in which to bring forth | seen, no one ought to pass them by without a the glory of his art. The soup, alas! was destined visit. The day was so glaring and cloudless, and to be food for fishes; and the awful desecration the sun was shooting his mid-day beams right caused such deep distress to the now-wretched down in such mercilessly straight lines, and withcook, that in his grief he burned up the rest of the out allowing a morsel of shadow anywhere, that I dinner to such a state of cinder, that, for any use gave up all idea of ascending higher, and rested there was in it, it might as well have gone after where I was, to look on the beautiful scene that lay
beneath me. The breeze continued all day, and we passed by In the centre of a vast plain, many miles in er. the temple of Edfou, the most perfect in Egypt, attent, was the beautiful capital of Upper Egypt, too good a pace to think of stopping even for it, with its numerous lofty minarets, rising gay, white, which we must leave till our return.
and glittering, in the almost kindling excess of During the night, I happened to awake, and light. The plain was like a great meadow, highly was delighted to learn, by the rushing sound at my cultivated, and dotted all over with numerous vil. head, that we were still making our way through lages, over which drooped their graceful palms, the water, which we had hardly expected, as at with wide-spreading sycamore trees that looked night the narigation is here somewhat difficult. like oaks, in fields of every shade of green up to the After lying some time awake, I began to grow | ripening yellow. Everywhere cattle were seen restless, and could not sleep; so I got up, and went | feeding, or sheltering themselves from the heat on deck.
We had now both sails set, as the wind | under a neighbouring tree; and a long line of had gone down a good deal; and one of the boat-camels that I had been watching for some time men, that was placed by them for fear of a sudden before, and which proved to be a slave caravan squall, was singing in a low tone some melody of a from Darfoor, was now slowly entering the suburbs plaintive kind, such as they generally sing; and as of the town, and looked as if exhausted by their there was still a good breeze, our boat went away long journey. The superb old Nile came up right dancing over the little waves, that were every one through the centre of the valley, and, as he wound of them silvered by the beams of the bright moon his way in magnificent volumes, that kept ever above our heads. I stood enjoying the scene in a flashing in the sunlight, looked like some gigantic state between waking and sleeping; and turning to snake uncoiling itself in the sun; while on either the right bank, I saw that we were just then pass- || side lofty ranges of hills rose like walls to protect ing some temple whose beautiful porch, and rows all this wondrous beauty from the fiend Desolaof stately pillars, looked pale as marble in the soft tion, the real Egyptian Typhon, that reigned in the moonlight. At first I was not sure that I was not deserts beyond. dreaming, for the whole scene—the temple, the After descending from this sepulchre of the dark background against which it stood, the moon, || ancient Egyptians, we went to see the gay summer the river, and the boat-looked so like what one palace Ibrahim Pasha lived in when he was gowould love to dream about, that I laboured under vernor here, but which is now all in ruins; and something like a dread that I would awake, and then rode along the high causeway that leads that then the beautiful vision would pass away. across the valley from the mountain to the river, I stood gazing on the scene till the majestic temple| midway between which stands Siout. This causegrew smaller and smaller, and less distinct. Whenway is intended to keep up the communication at last, a long way off, it appeared only something I between the port, and various other places, and white, I returned to my cabin, and set myself to Siout, during the inundation, and has stood the sleep ; and when I awoke in the morning, I was not full sweep of the Nile at its height for about three quite sure that the whole might not indeed have thousand years. It therefore deserves to be conbeen a dream. The man who was at the helm, sidered a gigantic effort of labour, and claims to however, told me that the temple we passed in the be ranked with the Pyramids, unless judged of as night, when I was on deck, was the temple of a work of utility, when it may by some be thought Omhos, which I found to be dedicated to the cro- to have pretensions even to
The town itself is the busiest on the Nile; and || ride there is most beautiful, being along an avenue many things—the mosques, the gardens, the occa- lined by rows of noble acacias, and which follows sional rich dresses that one across all nearly the same course as the Nile, that flows combine to remind travellers of Cairo. The ba- | quietly by on the left. The gardens are rather zaar is of great extent, and is always thronged precise and methodical, and, from the number of with people, whose varied looks and costumes give orange and lime trees, with the little variety of to it its chief attraction. This happening to be flowers, are more akin to a grove; but the gay market day, there was a greater gathering than greenness of the leaves, amid which glitter the usual. There were swarthy Nubians from above golden fruit, the grateful coolness under the abuuthe cataracts, presiding over piles of dates, dant foliage that covers the trelliced work over nuts, sugar-cane, and various kinds of grain, and your head, with the deep green hedgerows of tempting us with the knives, spear-heads, and mingled bay-tree and myrtle that run along your other weapons that formed part of their miscella- || path, make it a most delightful place; and when, neous wares; there were whole rows of sable added to this, we reclined on the pasha's ample beauties, tricked out in all the finery of bracelets couch, in a beautiful kiosk, breathing the mingled and anklets, nose-rings and ear-rings, that sat be. | perfume that came from flower and tree, and heard hind their goods, which consisted of little gaudy || the low hum of the insects that drowsily floated mirrors, strings of glass beads, and such trifles, and around, with the plashing sound of the fountain gabbled away like so many crows; and all round near us, that sent its water in glittering drops high there were such various specimens of African hu- || into the air, I almost believed it a scene of enchantmanity, of tribes with plaited hair, and with hair ment, and would fain have clapped my hands for that was made to stand bolt upright on end, the willing slaves of the place to appear. In the and of tribes that wore no hair at all, that one centre of the gardens is a noble temple that covers began to feel that for the future they would have about an acre of ground, and surrounds a magnifias much right to be an authority on such mat-|cent basin several fect deep, into which the clearest ters as either Bruce or Mungo Park. In riding water is ever playing from the most curiously through the town, we found an active bustle every-|| carved fountains. Broad terraces of Italian marwhere pervading it: camels loading and unloading ||ble, with rows of balustrades and pillars, and rich in narrow lanes through which passengers can with with fragrance of the rarest flowers, lead to kiosks difficulty force their way; donkeys staggering and divans that are laid out in the most sumptuous along under heavy panniers; horses gaily capari-| fashion of Oriental luxury, and, from ornamental soned, with dashing Turks on their backs; and casements, look forth on the most varied and deliTurks that sit drowsily by pashas' doors, and sneer cious views. at the poor Arab fellah as he goes past under his When leaving the gardens, we observed some weary load, and who is so wretched and poor be- stir at the door, where sat some few stern halfcause they are so dashing and gay.
soldier half-judicial-looking charactors, and, on inAs we were leaving the town, we passed by a quiring, found they were about to bastinado some mosque with lofty minaret, from whose gallery a poor wretch that had only that moment been turbaned figure was calling, in loud and sonorous brought before them, and was thus summarily distones, to the busy swarms below, that now was the posed of. The proceeding was begun by two men time to leave the world a while, and to come to rudely casting the culprit to the ground, and insertprayer; but no one seemed to heed him. At the ing his feet into what is called a fel-e-skeh, or staff, very gate of the city stands the governor's palace, to which a chain is attached by both ends, which looking like a small citadel, which, with the avenue being turned tightly round the man's ankles as he of fine trees and bridge that leads to it, forms a lay on his belly, raised his bare soles, and kept very imposing group. After this wo continued our them there rigidly fixed; while two men, armed ride along the causeway, which was planted with each with a fierce thong of hippopotamus hide, palms, sycamores (or wild fig-tree), and sweetly- | began to lay on with all their might. The poor smelling jessamine, for two miles more, till we got suffering Arab, who seemed to be long past the back to our boat, which we found in the centre of meridian of life, screamed and implored; and as quite a flotilla of such craft, whose fiags showed the tears streamed down his sunburnt face, that them to be Austrian, French, and American. was half hid by his disordered turban, I turned
away, sickened at the sight. He appeared to me A RIDE TO SCHOUBRA.
to be urging that he was innocent of what was Our morning rides in Cairo were delightful—the imputed to him—he looked as if he was; and mornings were so cool and delicious, and such con- Heaven knows! maybe he was. His loud cries, trasts to the hot, dusty days. Everything looked however, soon ceased, and became bursting sobs fresh, cheerful, and gay; and the inhabitants then and groans; but lash followed lash until some looked energetic and bustling as those of a colder hundreds were counted, when the poor man was climate, the voices of the various criers were louder cast loose, and, with the help of some by him, was and more musical, and the donkeys we rode trotted enabled to crawl away from the scene of his sufaway of their own accord with a nimbleness that|ferings. no amount of cuffing and goading would make him It was long before this painful scene would leave come up to a few hours after.
my mind; and as I rode home, I thought that, in We were to go this morning to the gardens of the delicious gardens, and in the scourged Arab at Schoubra, where Mohammed Ali has a palace. The their gate, we had something like an epitome of Egypt, where are only two classes the high and and tears they have cost its people? Nor could I the low-where the high glide along in the most enter these or any other gardens in Egypt again pampered luxury and ostentation among shuilling without hearing the groans that every breeze would swarms of the most abject and degraded beings. bring to my cars, or without sceing tearful faces
Who can look on the works of Egypt, from looking out from among these retreats of luxury, Cheops' Pyramid to Mohammed Ali's Mosque and that are raised at the expense of a nation's happi. Canal, without thinking of the sighs, the groans,l' ness.
THE WORLD-LIKE STREAM OF ROSENDREAM.
BY T. WEB B.
That it ran its course in selfish glee;
That it cared not why or what Inight be
A creature's woe;
That now and then it would make believe
That it could sympathise and grieve.
But 'twas not so:
The world's great stream
As falsely crept,
And danced and leapt,
Then Clare saw how the stream was black,
Where darksome shadows, o'er it hov'ring,
Changed its hue;
And yet it was a silver track,
Where moonbeams bright, its waters cov'ring,
Fell like dew.
And she thought that the world was like the stream
That she saw 'neath the rocks of Rosendream; And she thought that the world was like the strcam
That tho' where shaded it was black, That she saw 'neath the rocks of Roseudream;
Where lighted was a silver track.
Al! that years, alas! could sever
Hearts in seeming once so true!
So that time could change us ever,
Was a thing I little know;
Surely, deemed I, change could never
Thrust itself 'twixt me and you!
Would that I could then have known you
As I truly know you now,
Ere my sightless trust to own you,
Falseness as you are, knew how-
Ere the coming days had shown you,
Thing of change, as you are now!
Vain, I know, is all complaining;
Words, I know, are useless all-
Though in blood my heart were raining
All the tears that from me fall,
For the love there's no regaining,
For the peace without recall.
Pride was mine-all pride has left me;
Lingering love for you, forsworn,
Of the power to hate has rest me-
Reft me of the power to scorn.
Would that love but pride had left me!
Then with scorn your scorn had borne.
Heavily the gloom of sorrow
On my thoughts its sadness lays ;
Still new hope I yet may borrow-
Bounding life for coming days
Lightning me with every morrow
Of the grief that on me weighs.
Yet from doting has it turn'd me,
This vain bitter dream that's o'er-
This false fickle heart that's spurn'd me,
Spurn'd a heart such love that bore.
Wisdom I at least have earn'd me,
And I trust no woman more. W.C. BEYNITT.
SKETCIIES FROM IIIGILAND TRADITION.
(Continued from page 325.)
Sone hours after the above scene had passed at such as encouraged him to believe that she might bo Leckintuim, another still more affecting was passing i iníluenced by the innocent ruse he meant to practise between a young soldier, nicknamed, by his comrades, || for the purpose of getting the Glencoemen to retire for the “Connaught Prince," and a maiden, known among one night into their secret cave. This he thought her people as the “ Thrush of Glencoe.” The Prince justified by the end he had in view, since he could not was kind, gay, and generous in quarters-forward, im- disclose the intended massacre without compromising petuous, and daring in battle. His bearing was proud | himself as a soldier, and bringing destruction on his and lofty; but redeemed, in the eyes of his rude but comrades. kind-hearted companions, by manners at once frank, The legend he composed to effect his purpose was courteous, and sincere. A mystery hung over his his- conceived in the true spirit of the age and the district, tory; but there appeared no doubt that he was a high- and it was poured into the ear of the maiden, by the born son of the Emerald Isle, who had been forced in-excited soldier, in language so emphatic and impassioned to his present position by the political degradation of as to move her terror while engaging her conviction. his country, and the revolution it occasioned in the She accordingly went to her father, a sympathetic mesrank and circumstances of families as well as indivi- senger, and her lover's legend lost nothing of its touchduals. He was, accordingly, both loved and respected, ing pathos in her advocacy. The old man was moved, not only by his company, but the whole regiment. for he was not without suspicion of Glenlyon, and
Mary, or, as she was called in playfulness, the lacked none of the superstitious belief of the period. "Thrush of Glencoe," was the daughter of Allan of Bal. But, unfortunately, his acquaintance with the knavery bena, and sister of Allan Og, with whom we parted at and sensuality of the soldiers of the period gave a the head of Lochranach, after the skirmish between the wrong direction to his apprehensions. Menzies and the Stewarts, which terminated in favour The prejudices and suspicions of his fiery nature beof the latter clan. Old Allan, as he was now called, | ing tlus armed against the round-headed soldiery (alin contradistinction to his son, served with honour though his first impulse was to assume his staff
, and in the wars of Montrose and Dundee, and was now a consult his colleagues in the secret of the cave), he now gray-beaded, aged man; but his sagacity and integrity, chauged liis mind, or rather determined to take 110 combined with the chivalrous bravery of his younger | notice of the circumstance. Nay, he began to feel days, and his status, as one of the chieftains of his indignant at the supposition of his being capable of clan, gave him great influence, not only with the pa acquiescing in the suggestion, and exclaimed, “Ha! triarchs, but also with the younger warriors of his race. docs Terence O'Neil advise the Glencoemen to seek He was one of the three to whom the secret cave of their secret care without a battle lost, and to leave Glencoe was kuown. This cave is said to have been their wives and daughters in charge of the English fasufliciently large to accommodate the whole clan on an naties? Tell him, from me, that he does not truly emergency; but ouly three of the most distinguished of appreciate the character of the Glencoemen. We duly the race for prudence, firmness, and bravery, were value our lives; but they ever have, and ever shall be, allowed to know the entrance at the same time, the subservient to our honour. I, at least, shall never be fate of the Macdonalds of Egg being a warning against made the tool of the lustful and crafty fanatics, who haring recourse to it for conccalment, excepting only have enrolled themselves in the Dutchman's service, and in the last extremity.
banished their legitimate sovereign from his native This gay-hearted, sweet-voiced girl, combined in her kingdoms." own person the beauty of form, loveliness of face, “Dear father," said Mary, with an imploring look simple playfulness of manners, and warm and kindly into his withered but expressive face, “you do cruel feelings, together with that turn for the humorous sar- | injustice to Terence. He is the soul of truth and honour, casm and the smart repartee, characteristic of the fa- | and would not mislead or betray us for the treasures of scinating maidens of the Straths and Glens of Albyn. || the universe. Nor were the dreams and omens, which The Connaught Prince was one of the four soldiers warn us of some fatal calamity from the visit of these quartered in her father's house; and, imperceptibly hateful red-coats, vouchsafed to Terence alone. Old even to themselves, kindred feelings and kindred man- Evan has tested the ordeal of the Wizard's Glen, and ners, combined with the warmth of imagination equally has seen our vale deluged with the blood of our characteristic of both, had drain their hearts together slaughtered clan, without distinction of man from child. before any thought of winning her love had been con- ¡Oh, listen to the voice of prudence and of caution and, ceived or expressed by the stranger.
let the clan pass this night in the cave.” When the cruel object of the expedition to Glencoe “I doubt neither the honour nor the truth of Tcwas divulged by Major Campbell, the generous heart |rence,” replied the old man, softening; “but I know of the Connaught Prince was moved almost to madness. the true character of these fanatics, and how casily a He determined to make every effort, consistent with the perverted text can reconcile them to the perpetration safety of his brothers in arms, to save the Glencoemen. of any act of treachery and cruelty whereby the desires With this object strong in his heart, he sought an in- of their selfish hearts may be gratified. The dream terview with Mary. Her romantic and unsuspecting may have been whispered into his car in his broken simplicity of mind, her imaginative character and strong slumbers--for I have seen such tricks played, as an inleaning to the superstitious legends of the clan, were nocent joke, by far honester men; and the omens may have been but the natural effect of our mountain scenery on gloomy restlessness, along the ceiling of the hall. We his inexperienced eye and ear, when disguised in mistrefer to those of the principal guest of the evening, the and clouds, and when the mysterious winds whisper commander of the detachment, who had been toasted and wail among the cliffs. Leave me to my thoughts, and complimented in the most courteous and kindly my beloved daughter; but temper with courtesy and manner, not only by Glencoe himself, but by the whole of kindness my opinion of the source of the dreams and the company. He could not enter into the prevailing omens of Terence."
spirit of the party, and retired as soon as he could deMary wrung ber hands in despair, for she knew the cently obtain the permission of the chieftain, to whom resolved character of her father, and repaired to keep he pied the necessity of issuing orders and making all tryst with her lover on Dun-deur-huil, with a stooping necessary arrangements for the following day's march. gait and a tearful eye. Terence was waiting for, and But instead of coufining himself to his own room for sprang to receive her, with impatience. He was greatly the above purpose, he proceeded to that of Mrs. excited, and trembled in every limb, despite all his ef- Macdonald in a very short period thereafter. forts at coolness; for a single glance at her face and Mrs. Macdonald was such a lady as a Highland chicf. tearful eye convinced him that she had not succeeded tain might well be proud to have for his wife. Dewith her father. He seized her hand with a hard and scended, paternally, from the same clan with her hushasty grasp, and attempted to speak before he could ar-band, and her mothier being a Campbell, she possessed ticulate words. “Cuisle mo chri,”' at lengtlı he gasped what was considered in that age the first essential to a forth, “ yield a first and a last embrace. And witness, lady — high blood. In the present state of society, God and angels, that I now take leave of all I love, when the daughter of a man born in the labourer's and of my last hope of earthly happiness.” So saying, cottage, and trained at the forge or the loom, may be he pressed her wildly in his arms, imprinted kisses on educated and reared in a palace (won by the talents, her cheeks and brow, and, before her rising indigna. | industry, and worth of her parents), and endowed not tion could check or rebuke his freedom, le bounded only with the natural but also the acquired graces of over the rock, followed, in full chase, by a small party the high-born and best-educated class of society, we who had evidently been watching this interview with are apt to smile, derisively, at the great importance suspicion. Mary cast onc fond and lingering look of attached by the aristocracy of former times to birth despair after her lover; but, alarmed by the hasty re- || and rank; but do we not, in so condemning such apturn of one of the party, retraced with hurried, but parent prejudices, forget that, in former times, the joyless steps, her way to her father's house, impressed high-born alone had the advantage of being orally with real alarm for the fate of her lover, and of pro-| taught and trained among those who prided themselves phetic fears for that of her clan.
not less on the high honour, polished manners, geneWhile the scenes we have described were passing on rosity of heart, and integrity in word and deed, than the farm of Leckintuim, every hearth in Glencoe was on the pure blood and high rank of their ancestors ? occupied with bustling preparations for giving a fare- Mirs. Macdonald was tall and elegantly formed, though well banquet to their guests—for the parties had been inclined a little en bon point; and her features were erdrawn closer together in conciliation and kindly feel. || tremely pleasing, if not even beautiful. Her hair was ing, during their short acquaintance, than can easily be dark-brown, and so also were the thin lives of her conceived by persons unacquainted with the frank gracefully-arched eyebrows. Her eyes, large and blue, manners and hospitable babits of the Highlanders of were tempered, in their fervid lustre, by long and silk
until old prejudices had been almost wholly en eyelashes of raren blackness; and her nose, mouth, obliterated, and the unsuspecting and warm-hearted in- and chin, were exquisitely modelled. Her small, eren, habitants of the doomed glen entered zealously into the pearly-white teeth were partially seen through her rosy generous spirit of their chieftain, and determined to and tempting lips; but a chaste, matronly expression devote the last day of the sojourn of the soldiers among of purity and firmness breathed in the tout ensemble of them to festive enjoyment and hospitality.
her face and figure, which overawed, if it could not The feast is spread in the ball of Invercoe—the subdue, the emotions she was so well calculated to inwelcome guests arranged around the social board--the spire. pipers have ceased playing on the lawn—the minstrels Glenlyon admired the chieftainess, and indulged in and bards are in their places—the jest, the anecdote, feelings and speculations, in reference to her, suited to the tale, and the lay, succeed one another in brilliant the coarseness of his nature, and the moral baseness of succession-every heart harmonises, or seems to liar- || his character ; but he never presumed to utter an iin. monise, with the open, honest, and smiling brow and the worthy thought in her presence, nor to attempt the warm-hearted pleasantries of the chieftain, and nothing slightest advances towards that familiarity with her is heard in the mansion of Invercoe, or in any house which his heart so much desired. On this fatal das, or cottage throughout the glen, but the voice of cour- however, his mind was in an agitated and reckless tesy, mirth, and revelry. Alas! how deceitful are the state; and he flew from one extreme to another in a smiles which sometimes warm the unsophisticated heart manner that might have excited the suspicion of the when the bowl mantles on the social board ; and how vigilant and distrustful Achitriaden; but his vigilant often is the gleam of joy that spreads over the festive toady saw the excited state of his patron, and fastened scene the precursor of the deepest strokes of suffering himself on the polite, though scornful chieftain, so perand calamity!
tinaciously as to divide, since he could not engross, his The festivities of Invercoe proceeded in the unin- | attention. Glenlyon accordingly sought the presence terrupted flow of social merriment. Amid the whole of the lady this day with a bolder and darker purpose of that gay and warm-hearted assembly, the eyes of || than he had hitherto dared to entertain. one person only wandered from the joyous scene, with When Glenlyon was announced, Mrs. Macdonald re