upon trivial matters, need no explanation. The 'likeness' cannot fail of being recognised: 'My pensive Public, wherefore look you sad? 'Joy should be yours: this tenth day of October Long wept my eye to see the timber planks * * Box-office door, I've stood and eyed the builders. Workmen in elder times would mount a ladder 'Oh! 't was a goodly sound to hear the people Who watch'd the work, express their various thoughts! While some believed it never would be finished, Some, on the contrary, believed it would. * 'Oh Mr. Whitbread! fie upon you, Sir! I think you should have built a colonnade; Protrudes her gloveless hand, perceives the shower, Heaven grant it prove not in the end pound foolish !' 'Amid the freaks that modern fashion sanctions, Brought on the stage. 'Nought born on earth should die. On hackney stands I reverence the coachman who cries 'Gee!' And spares the lash. When I behold a spider Or view a butcher, with horn-handled knife, The Baby's Début,' of WORDSWORTH, Drury's Dirge,' by 'LAURA MATILDA,' MOORE'S 'Living Lustres,' The Rebuilding,' by SOUTHEY,' and 'Fire and Ale,' by 'the horrid MONK LEWIS,' will form the subjects of another and concluding number. C. SILENCE, and night! it is the time for thought; And deems that from those rolling worlds comes to him - And over them God spread this canopy Of grandeur and of glory! There they hang, Traverse the air together. Not one of all Those sparkling points of scarce distinguishable flame, But hath its part and place in that grand scheme Fixed by the God of Heaven. Laws, times, place, motions, All these each hath; and there they roll for ever, Changing and yet unchanged. The wilder'd mind Turns from the scene amazed, and asks itself If this can be! And yet, how fancy dreams Of those bright worlds! Tell us, ye unseen influences, Ye that do gather round us in these hours When the impassion'd world lies locked in sleep, And the day's whirl is over- tell us here, What are those rolling worlds! Are there bright scenes, Turrets, and towers, and temples - dwell these there, With the glad notes of myriad-colored birds, Singing of happiness - have they these there? Spread such bright plains there to th' admiring eye, -- Mocking the tempest? Ocean, those vast tides, From age to age? And tell us, do those worlds Change like our own? Comes there, the soothing spring, Of leaves to deck the forest; flowers, and scatter'd In the green vales and on the slopes, to fling Over a faery world; and feathery winds, Of their low murmurings? Have they the months Of a dull, daily being? And warm hearts, Do they dwell there? Hearts fondly lock'd to hearts, Floods of deep feeling, and a life so sweet, Death doth but make it sweeter? Have ye dreamers Young hearts-proud souls that catch from every thing, A greatness and a grandeur of delight, That common souls feel not? Souls that do dwell Only in thoughts of beauty, linking forth ORIENTAL FRAGMENTS. FROM THE UNPUBLISHED MANUSCRIPTS OF A TRAVELLER IN THE EAST. BY J. S. BUCKINGHAM. THE interest that has recently been excited throughout all Europe, by the efforts for renewing the ancient communication between the Mediterranean and the Red Sea, on the one hand, and the opening of the route to India, by the Euphrates and the Persian Gulf, on the other, has directed public attention to whatever could elucidate the question, as to whether the Red Sea and the Mediterranean could be advantageously united, by means of a canal, from the one to the other, so as to shorten the communication between western Europe and eastern Asia, and thus avoid the long and generally stormy voyage round the great continent of Africa, by the passage of the Cape of Good Hope. Having taken an early and a prominent part in the inquiries which were instituted on this subject, during my travels in Egypt, I was specially solicited by its present ruler, Mohammed Ali Pasha, to undertake a journey across the Isthmus of Suez, for the double purpose, first, of examining the capacity of that port to receive vessels of a certain burthen, and inspecting its anchorages; and secondly, of traversing the desert lying between the Red Sea and the Mediterranean, with the view of ascertaining whether any vestiges could still be traced of the ancient canal, said to have been begun by one of the Pharaohs, completed by Darius, and continued open up to the time of the Ptolemies. The object of these inquiries was not the mere gratification of a geographical or antiquarian curiosity, though that would have been motive sufficient to induce me to undertake the task; but it was intended as a prelude to the reopening of the ancient commerce, which, before the circumnavigation of the Cape of Good Hope, by Vasco Da Gama, was carried on extensively and profitably by this route, between Europe and India, by which indeed Alexandria had been enriched, and by which Genoa and Venice acquired such opulence and power, as to reign sole arbiters of the dominion along the shores of these two seas. I accordingly entered into the project with zeal, believing that whatever might be the privations of the desert journey, I should be gratified by its novelty; and hoping, that beside my own personal gratification, some public good would result from the investigation on which I was about to enter. It was on the evening of the 14th of February, that I took my leave of the Pasha, and of the numerous friends with whom I had enjoyed so many agreeable days in Cairo, and adopting their advice, to make the journey as privately as possible, so as to avoid the danger of being followed and plundered by the way, I prepared for travelling in the garb of an Arab of the humblest class, being now sufficiently qualified for this, by my knowledge of the Arabic tongue. DEPARTURE FROM CAIRO. TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 15th. - I had slept but little, from the diversity of thoughts by which I was agitated during the night; and stirring with the earliest dawn, we were dressed and equipped before sunrise. After receiving a letter of credit on Damietta, in case of our visiting that place, as well as the firman of the Pasha, to be shown only in case of need, we repaired to the okella, or stables, where our camels and their driver lodged. This individual, whose name was Phanoose, (literally a lantern, or a light for the path,) was a Bedouin Arab, from the mountain's near Horeb and Sinai; he had been long known among the merchants of Egypt for his tried fidelity, and was constantly entrusted by them to be the bearer of large sums in gold and silver between Sinai, Tor, Suez, and Cairo. He was thus charged for a journey at present, and to his care and protection I entirely committed myself. The great caravan of four thousand camels had departed from Cairo for Suez on the preceding evening, and coinciding with him in his opinion, that it was best to avoid their track, and journey by the upper and least frequented road, to the northward of their course, we left Cairo by the Bab-el-Nasr, or Gate of Victory, for that route, about nine o'clock. Our dresses were those of the Arab Fellahs, or Egyptian peasants, consisting of a simple shirt of blue cotton, over one of coarse calico next the skin, a coarse muslin turban for the head, and a woollen sash for the waist, with red slippers, and a blue cotton melyah, a kind of shawl, thrown loosely across the shoulders in the day, and serving for a slight covering at night. We had each long full beards, and wore sandals on our feet. Our provisions consisted of a small supply of bread, rice, butter, dates, a few hard boiled eggs and salt, some coffee, tobacco, and a goat's skin of water; our cooking utensils comprised only an iron kettle for boiling rice, and a small coffee-pot, with two coffee-cups. Our arms were a sabre, musket, and pistols each, all of the most ordinary quality, to prevent their exciting envy, or a desire in others to possess them; and these, with a straw mat for sleeping on, and a Bedouin cloak, or Burnoose, for a night covering, with the indispensable requisites of a pipe and tobacco-bag, completed our simple travelling equipage. Taking a course almost due east from the gate we had left, we passed on through a narrow defile, or valley, formed by the near approach of two small yet steep hills, projecting against each other like bluff capes in miniature, leaving the Birket-el-Hadji,' or the Lake of the Pilgrims, the general point of rendezvous for caravans, to the north of us. The pace of our camels appeared to me light and easy, and as they bore only the few small sacks of money confided to the care of the Bedouin, beside our own baggage, their rate of progress was never less than a league in the hour. The weather was favorable for our journey; and Phanoose occasionally broke the silence of the desert by the songs with which he cheered his camels, so that I felt my spirits growing lighter with every step we took. We halted for an hour about noon, and made a hearty, though a hasty meal, when overtaking a small caravan of Arabs bound to Tor, we joined their humble camp, for mutual protection, about two hours before sunset. Our salutations at meeting were rather like those of long absent friends than that of perfect strangers, and their rude hospitality had in it a sincerity which enhanced its worth. The camels were unladen, and suffered to feed upon the few dry herbs that were |