Obrazy na stronie
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We give the following as specimens of the work, a work which, though containing some sentiments from which we differ, we cannot help pronouncing a charming one. Here we have a graphic sketch of Hungarian habits and

manners:

Almost every third house is a coffee-house, with a broad verandah, around which are ranged sofas and blooming oleanders. Incredible quantities of fruit, grapes, plums, particularly melons, and heaps of water-melons, are offered for sale. Unemployed labourers lie, like lazzaroni, on the threshholds of their doors, or on their wheelbarrows, enjoying the siesta. Women sit before the doors, chatting together and suckling their infants. The dark eyes, the loud deep voices, here and there the piercing eyes, are all southern. The dress of the women is distinguished by nothing but a large ungraceful cotton handkerchief upon the head, which covers all the hair, and by bare feet. The men wear an outer garment that strikingly resembles a woman's night-dress. Breeches, waistcoat, shirt, appear to be all of one piece, of white linen, descending from the neck to the heels, wide and full of plaits like a woman's gown. When they have taken off the broad-brimmed hat, and tied an apron before them, as they do in many occupations, I cannot help saying, What tall women these are!' Clumsy boots complete this most simple costume, to which is sometimes added a dark blue waistcoat, without sleeves, but with many white buttons. This is only the lower class of the people, probably most of them country folk, who have come to the fair, but it is most striking; for strongly marked physiognomies and prominent cheek-bones appear among them. Almost all have black, some of them curly hair; with straw-coloured or absolutely red, they look hideous. The children appear to me like young wild beasts. Their dress is really not much more than a somewhat looser skin; naked feet, bare head, bristling hair, excessively rapid motions, a scrutinizing, yet shy look, gave me this impression. Now and then, but very rarely, you see men in the dress that is called pre-eminently the Hungarian, a jacket profusely braided, with double sleeves. Still more rare is a man without beard and without pipe. Beards, of which I cannot take it for granted that they are combed and cleaned every morning, are suspicious to me--and these were excessively so; but, at any rate, they give the people a certain martial air, which I like better than the military one to which we are accustomed in North Germany; for the one is natural, the other the effect of training.'

The following account is given of the habits of a class of the human family, to whom a strange and peculiar

interest attaches :

The rich boyar is exempt from tax-not so the gipsy. Is not that extraordinary? They are divided, like the ancient Romans, into sections of ten, one hundred, five hundred, and the chief of the five hundred is held responsible for the tax. Thus all that these people know of the state of human society is the burden which they are forced to bear. However, they enjoy a right: a horde of gipsies must be allowed to stay three days wherever they think proper to pitch their camp, though, bearing a very bad character, they are almost always unwelcome.'

Hoping our fair countrywomen wont dream of copying some points, at all events, in the dress and habits of the Jewish ladies in Damascus, we insert one other extract:

Yesterday being the Jewish Sabbath, we had an opportunity of seeing the ladies in their best attire, which is certainly very splendid. The head-dress is adorned with natural flowers, and entwined with a wreath of diamonds; two or three large drops of emerald fall over the forehead, while the hair flows in curls and ringlets over the shoulders and waist, or is plaited in innumerable little braids, each of which has a small gold coin fastened at the point. Sometimes these plaits are made of silk as a sub- || stitute for false hair, which is very generally worn by the ladies. Several rows of beautiful pearls are suspended round their necks; but I never saw any of a very large size. The costume is Oriental; wide pantaloons, long, open skirt and tight boddice, cut very low in front and pinched at the waist, the chemisette or tucker being of transparent gossamer. The most violent contrasts are preferred. One of the ladies wore cherry-coloured pantaloons, a skirt of white cambric, embroidered with a border of coloured silk and gold, a satin boddice of bright green, and a striped Persian shawl tied round the waist; another wore pantaloons of a bright citron, a rose-coloured petticoat and a black velvet boddice, while a third was dressed in an entire suit of sky-blue fringed with gold, set off with a superb purple shawl by way of girdle. Perhaps you will say this does not sound amiss, and still less so when I add that the majority of the women are very pretty; and yet whenever they approached me, my first sensation was that of slight repugnance. They paint themselves so odiously! Their eyebrows of a jet black, curved as a Byzantine arch, below the under eyelid a black stripe which extends to the temple; their cheeks of a pretty red, but very unlike the glowing hue of nature. Beneath this disfigurement or paint the countenance has to be sought out. The contour of their figures is completely spoiled by their compressed busts and the thick shawl wound round their waists; and what makes them appear yet more stiff and even awkward is the custom of walking upon kabkabs; these are low stilts or foot stools, made of wood, inlaid with mother-o'-pearl, about a foot high, and fastened with a leather strap to the ancle. Upon these they walk about in the house, whether it be to keep their dress from trailing on the ground, to add to their height, or to save their feet from touching the cold marble halls, I cannot say. Upon these kabkabs, they even contrive to walk up and down stairs, an effort which requires no little dexterity; yet for all this, it is most ungraceful. The foot must always be put out straight, and the knee stiffened, otherwise off falls this barbarous machine, the clatter of which is besides intole

This singular houseless race, which has no abiding place on earth, and nowhere leaves permanent traces behind it, rove about in great numbers on the Lower Danube, on both banks. These people live only in tents, outside the towns; in winter, in holes underground, or in caves and woods. They subsist by begging and stealing, musical performances and tinkering: some are good blacksmiths. Most of them are Christians, following all sorts of pagan customs; as to others, nobody knows whether they belong to any religious communion or not; they are like the beasts of the desert, wild, unruly, and free, hav-rable; far different to the quiet noiseless step which seems ing no intercourse with other men, among whom they cannot bear to be. Nobody knows what is their originnobody can form an idea whether they are susceptible of any civilization. They pass on mysteriously through ages, as if enveloped in a dark cloud. Missionaries and Bible Societies venture to penetrate to the most savage tribes of Africa, Asia, and Australia-the gipsies they do not venture to visit. The gipsy is abandoned to his fate, and the only notice taken of him is to oblige him to pay a tax; namely, a ducat per head every year. According to the account of a German settled at Jassy, who had been our fellow-traveller from Pesth, this tax is introduced at least into Moldavia, where there are half-a-million of gipsies.

to belong to a graceful woman decked with pearls and diamonds. When first I saw them, I involuntarily thought of clodhoppers. One of these ladies, very tall and stout, and by no means pretty, dressed in the gayest colours, with a yellow shawl round her waist, which set off her large figure to the utmost disadvantage, towering above all the men, and clattering with her kabkabs, approached me very majestically. I was quite overcome! It was for all the world as if the queen of chess were stalking towards me, the whole length of the chess board; and, thought I, shall I take a Bishop's leap and get out of her way? The sight was all too overpowering! As it is indispensable to accustom your eye to the dark before you can distinguish

tion was far less comfortable than it otherwise would have
been at the same hour, surrounded by his wife and chil-
dren at the supper table, to say nothing of the gloomy
prospect for the night. Still, as Joe Sleeper's house was
not far distant, he hoped to be able to call him to his as-
sistance. But his lungs, though none of the weakest,
were unequal to the task; and although he hallooed and
bawled the live-long night, making the woods and the
welkin ring again, he succeeded no better than did Glen-
dower of old, in calling spirits from the vasty deep. It
was a wearisome night for Dobson; such a game of hold-
fast he had never been engaged in before. Bruin, too,
was probably somewhat wearied; although he could not
describe his sensations in English, he took the regular
John Bull method of making known his dissatisfaction-
that is to say, he growled incessantly. But there was no
let go in the case, and Dobson was therefore under the
necessity of holding fast, until he felt as if his clenched
and aching fingers and the bear's paws had grown to-
As daylight returned, and the smoke from Mr Sleeper's
chimney began to curl up gracefully, though rather dimly,
in the distance, Dobson again repeated his cries for suc-
cour, and his heart soon gladdened by the appearance of
his worthy but inactive neighbour, who had at last been
attracted by the voice of the impatient sufferer, bearing
an axe upon his shoulder.
Dobson had never been so
much rejoiced at seeing Mr Sleeper before, albeit he was
a very kind and estimable neighbour.

the objects around you, so, when standing opposite these
ladies, you must overcome their violent contrasts of bril-
liant colours before it is at all possible to discover their fea-
tures. When my eyes were no longer dazzled by the glare,
I was delighted to find that I was surrounded by pretty
faces. The features of the youthful females are very soft
and delicate, and though they assume a sharpness with age,
they never lose their delicacy. The profile from the fore-
head to the nose is particularly beautiful. Their eyes are
disfigured by the painting around them; they may be
beautiful, but to me they were not attractive; they are
neither eloquent in silence, nor animated in conversation.
A salutation is made by touching the lip with the tips of
the fingers of the right hand, laying them on the heart,
and then mutually shaking hands; the ladies make these
movements lightly and quickly in the air; but I, as a true
German, cordially laid my hand on their painted fingers
glittering with diamonds, and could not help thinking how
much neater was the look of a Parisian glove. We took
cur seats on a broad divan; and the lady of the house, ac-gether.
cording to the Oriental custom, waited upon her guests,
presenting each with femonade and confectionery, and
then with a transparent napkin worked in silk and fringed
with gold, which we passed over our lips. Pipes were
not offered as it was the Sabbath, on which the Israelites
are not permitted to light a fire; on other days the ladies
smoke as well as the men, and generally use Persian
nargileh. Here I can easily understand a woman's smok-
ing: they are compelled to resort to it, to while away the
time; and, indeed, if I were obliged to sit in my court at
Damascus by the side of a fountain, under oleander and
orange trees, decked in diamonds, at eleven o'clock in the
morning, with my hands before me, I am sure that in less
than a year, I should have recourse to the same antidote
against ennui. Their days flow on from year to year just
as I have described it. The life of these wealthy females
is perhaps the most easy and free from care in the world;
their husbands lavish upon them diamonds, pearls, and
costly shawls, to their heart's content, while they in re-
turn do the honours of his house with cold politeness.
Some of them have a very imposing appearance, and one
especially in a gorgeous, yet chastely elegant attire, looked
so queen-like and beautiful, that the fair Esther in the
Court of Ahasuerus seemed to move before me.'

ADVENTURE WITH AN AMERICAN BEAR. AMONG the earliest settlers in the wilds of Salmon River, was a Vermontese of the name of Dobson-a resolute and athletic man. Returning one evening from a fruitless hunt after his vagrant cows-which, according to custom in the new countries, had been turned into the woods to procure their own subsistence from the rank herbage of the early summer-just before emerging from the forest upon the clearing of his neighbour, the late worthy Mr Joseph Sleeper, he saw a large bear descending from a lofty scyamore, where he had probably been in quest of honey. A bear ascends a tree much more expertly than he descends it, being obliged to come down stern foremost. My friend Dobson did not very well like to be joined in his evening walk by such a companion, and without reflecting what he should do with the varmint' afterwards, he ran up to the tree on the opposite side from the animal's body, and just on his reaching the ground, seized him firmly by both his fore-paws. Bruin growled and gnashed his tusks, but he soon ascertained that his paws were in the grasp of paws equally iron-strong with his own. Nor could he use his hinder-claws to disembowel his antagonist, as the manner of the bear is, inasmuch as the trunk of the tree was between them. But Dobson's predicament, as he was endowed with rather the most reason, was worse yet. He could no more assail the bear than the bear could assail him. Nor could he venture to let go of him, since the presumption was that Bruin would not make him a very gracious return for thus unceremoniously taking him by the hand. The twilight was fast deepening into darkness, and his posi

'Why don't you make haste, Mr Sleeper, and not be lounging about at that rate, when you see a fellow-christian in such a kettle of fish as this?'

'I vum! Is that you, Mr Dobson, up agin a tree there? And was it you I hear'n hallooing so last night? I guess you ought to have your lodging for nothing if you've stood up agin the tree all night.'

It's no joke, though, I can tell you, Mr Joe Sleeper; and if you'd had hold of the paws of the black varmint all night, it strikes me you'd think you'd paid dear enough for it. But if you hear'n me calling for help in the night, why didn't you come and see what was the trouble?'

Oh, I was just going tired to bed, after laying up logfence all day, and I thought I'd wait till morning, and come out bright and airly. But if I'd known 'twas you'

Known it was me'-replied Dobson, bitterly, you knew 'twas somebody who had flesh and blood, too good for these plaguy black varmints though; and you knew there's been a smart sprinkle of bears about the settlement all the spring.'

'Well, don't be in a huff, Tommy. It's never too late to do good. So hold tight now, and don't let the 'tarnal crittur get loose while I split his head open.'

'No, no,' said Dobson. 'After holding the beast here all night, I think I ought to have the satisfaction of killing him. So you just take hold of his paws here, and I will take the axe and let a streak of daylight into his skull about the quickest.'

The proposition being a fair one, Mr Sleeper was too reasonable a man to object. He was no coward neither; and he thereupon stepped up to the tree, and cautiously taking the bear with both his hands, relieved honest Dobson from his predicament. The hands of the latter, though sadly stiffened by the tenacity with which they had been clenched for so many hours, were socn brandishing the axe, and he apparently made all preparations for giving the deadly blow-and deadly it would have been had he struck; but, to the surprise of Sleeper, he did not strike; and to his further consternation, Dobson swung the axe upon his shoulder, and marched away; whistling as he went, with as much apparent indifference as the other had shown when coming to his relief.

It was now Sleeper's turn to make the forest vocal with his cries. In vain he raved, and called, and threatened. Dobson walked on and disappeared, leaving his friend as sad a prospect for his breakfast as himself had had for his

supper. Hour after hour passed away, and Sleeper still found himself at bo-peep with Sir Bruin. In the course of the afternoon, however, when Dobson supposed that the lesson he was teaching had been thoroughly learned by his pupil, and when he thought the latter would willingly forget his resentment for the sake of succour, the sturdy Yankee returned, and by a single blow relieved both bear and man from their troubles in the same instant. Sleeper thought rather hard of Dobson for some time, but no real breach of friendship ensued, and, indeed, the two borderers became afterwards better friends and neighbours than before.

PAUL AT ATHENS.

something else which stirred his spirit in him, and stimulated the moral daring of the effort, through which the historian has enabled us to track his course, or rather to watch his flight. Athens was the very focus of idolatry. Its altars, statues, and temples, were multiplied beyond parallel, and reckoned more numerous than those of all the rest of Greece together. Pretonius, the satirist, who was living then, said that his country was filled with gods, so that it was easier to find a god than a man.' Athens was called the altar of Greece; and that the city was wholly given to idolatry '—or, more correctly, was so full of images-roused the apostle to come forward as the champion of Jehovah.

On many minds the effect would have been different, for idolatry there put on a most fascinating and a mest HAD the fact that Paul preached at Athens been men- formidable shape. It had much to impose on the senses. tioned without particulars, how great would have been our Probably no scene of mortal creation was ever so enchantcuriosity to know how he conducted himself, who emi-ing as that presented in a walk through Athens during nently ranks as a philosopher among the apostles, when he its splendour. From the plundered and disjointed fragstood alone, an apostle, among philosophers! This was ments of its beauty, our artists draw their noblest inspithe noblest arena on which he had ever struggled; he had rations; and in them our country boasts a treasure of fought with beasts at Ephesus, but at Athens he con- which all civilized nations may envy the possession. Oh! tended with the masterspirits of mankind. He was at to have seen them glittering in their own sunshine, in once in the very palace of intellect, and the sanctuary of proud harmony with the temples from which they have idolatry. All that his writings and recorded actions have been torn-to have passed through those streets which unfolded of his character rush upon our minds, and deepen were but long galleries of godlike forms in marble, and our interest, and exalt our expectations, as we behold him, ascend that Acropolis which was the citadel, not only of impelled by the fervour of zeal, and armed only in the their safety but their fame-to have witnessed the living simplicity of truth, advancing to glorify Jesus of Nazareth magnificence of their worship, and especially of their as the Lord of faith, in the awful presence of this world's festivals-the gorgeous attire of their priests-the solemn wisdom. Well did he acquit himself, in a speech where pomp of their sacrifices-the interminable variety of their reason lays the broad basis of a spiritual theism, and re-processions—the multitudinous concourse of their citizens velation rears the lofty structure of judgment and immor--the clouds of fragrant incense that alone could obscure tality. He spoke, as apostle should speak at Athens, in their transparent atmosphere-the thrilling delight of language worthy of himself, and his illustrious character, music resounding from roofs whose beams had been the and heavenly commission-worthy of the dignified audi- masts of Persian fleets-the majesty of their theatres, tory before which he pleaded-worthy of diffusion and which inspired the sense, not so much of pleasure as of transmission to remotest countries and ages, for reveren- sublimity-the agonizing excitement of their games, and tial study-and worthy to be the shrine of those funda- the distribution of those simple prizes of the palm-branch, mental and everlasting principles which constitute religi- or the crown of olive, pine, or parsley, for which Europe ous truth, and are Christianity. Nor is it to him alone has no sceptre or diadem that the victor would have taken that our interest clings; for, from the dawn of intellect in exchange, must he have bartered his Grecian glory too: and freedom, has Greece been a watchword in the earth. -to have seen these, and idolatry pervading them all as There rose the social spirit, to soften and refine her chosen their vital spirit, and reigning by them over hearts and race, and shelter, as in a nest, her gentleness from the minds, might rouse the zeal of a Paul; but a feebler faith rushing storm of barbarism-there liberty first built her would have dissolved in the enchanted cup, and been inmountain-throne, first called the waves her own, and corporated with the profane libation. shouted across them a proud defiance to despotism's banded myriads-there the arts and graces danced around humanity, and stored man's home with comforts, and strewed his path with roses, and bound his brow with myrtle, and fashioned for him the breathing statue, and summoned him to temples of snowy marble, and charmed his senses with all forms of elegance, and threw over his final sleep their veil of loveliness-there sprung poetry, like their own fabled goddess, mature at once, from the teeming intellect, girt with the arms and armour that defy the assaults of time, and subdue the heart of manthere matchless orators gave the world a model of perfect eloquence, the soul the instrument on which they played, and every passion of our nature but a tone which the master's touch called forth at pleasure-there lived and taught the philosophers of bower and porch, of pride and pleasure, of deep speculation, and of useful action, who developed all the acuteness, and refinement, and excursiveness, and energy of mind, and were the glory of their country, when their country was the glory of the earth.

But although such associations as these work powerfully on our feelings as we turn to the page where what is most brilliant in profane and important in sacred history come in contact, we must remember that Athens appeared to the apostle under a very different aspect. There are sufficient indications, that to the splendour of its name and the charms of its literature he was no stranger, nor insensible. The intellectual superiority not only of its sages, but of its inhabitants, must have been to him a welcome congeniality and a strong excitement; but it was

Athenian idolatry had much to charm the imagination. It not only had been adorned by the most gifted handsit not only had a rich stream of song ever flowing through its consecrated grounds; but it was essentially poetical, the very child of fancy; and its Pantheon the vision of genius made visible and palpable to all. Its deities were the beings whom the poet sees in his day-dreams on the shores of the ocean, or by the bubbling fountain, or in the recesses of the grove, or on the mountain's summit. They were not the original product of the pallet or the chisel. nor their original abode the marble temple; for their first creator was poetic enthusiasm, and their first shrine the poet's soul. Nor did it want for means to seduce the judgment, for in their mythology was many a noble truth, which some might deem the lovelier for its graceful veil of allegory; and they had a philosophy, which has indeed obtained in most ages, teaching to think with the wise and act with the multitude; and the example of their most venerable sages sanctified an outward conformity with detected superstition.

And there was something to such an one as Paul that was spirit-stirring in the mighty array that he had to cope with. He was full of courage and of hope. In the cause of Christ he had gone on conquering, and would trust that, even here, he came to conquer. He felt that it was enough, even if he saved but one, to recompense the effort and the peril-that it was enough, if, by his faithfulness, he only delivered his own soul. But his was a mind to look and aim at more than this. He felt the splendour of the triumph there would be in levelling the

wisdom of Athens, and the idolatry of Athens, at the foot of the Cross-in making Jupiter, Neptune, and all their tribes give place to Jehovah-and Zeno, and Epicurus, and Aristotle, and Plato, and Socrates, succumb to Jesus of Nazareth. He burned to make Olympus bow its awful head, and cast down its coronet of gods, at His feet who dwelt in Zion; and the prans of Bacchus and Apollo were, in his ear, but preludes to the swellingsong of Moses and the Lamb.'

loathing the contamination of idolaters, but glaring with savage fury on the apostate son of Abraham (as he would deem him) who held so much communion with their souls, as to invite them to an union of love and piety, in the name of the detested Nazarene. And if for a moment Paul felt, as one would think man must feel, at being the central object of such a scene and such an assemblage, there would rush upon his mind the majesty of Jehovah; and the words of the glorified Jesus; and the thunders that struck him to the earth on the road to Damascus ; and the sense of former efforts, conflicts, and successes; and the approach of that judgment to come, whose rightcousness and universality it was now his duty to announce.-Fox.

NO TRUST IN PRINCES.

'I will take

Animated by such feelings, we may now regard Paul, in what must have been one of the most interesting moments of even his eventful life, preparing himself on the Hill of Mars to address an auditory of Athenians on behalf of Christianity. He would feel the imposing associations of the spot on which he stood, where justice had been administered in its most awful form, by characters the most venerable, in the darkness of night, under the A droll adventure occurred to the Emperor Alexander canopy of heaven, with the solemnities of religion, and on the eve of one of the imperial reviews. The Emperor with an authority which legal institution and public was fond of walking about alone and unattended, and he opinion had assimilated rather with the decrees of conoften extended his pedestrian excursions to a distance of science and of the gods, than with the ordinary power of two or three leagues from St Petersburgh. On the occahuman tribunals. He would look around on many an im- sion here alluded to he had taken a very long walk, and mortal trophy of architect and sculptor, where genius had finding himself much fatigued, he got into one of the triumphed, but triumphed only in the cause of that ido-public sledges. Drive to the Imperial Palace at St latry to which they were dedicated, and for which they Petersburgh,' said he to the Iswotschilk. existed. And beyond the city, clinging round its temples, you as near it as I can,' replied the man, but the guards like its inhabitants to their enshrined idols, would open will not allow us to approach the gates.' On arriving on his view that lovely country, and the sublime ocean, within a little distance of the palace, the sledge stopped. and the serene heavens bending over them, and bearing We must not go any farther,' said the sledge driver. that testimony to the universal Creator, which man and The Emperor jumped from the sledge, saying, "Wait man's works withheld. And with all would Grecian there and I will send some one to pay you.'- No, no,' glory be connected-the brightness of a day that was clos- replied the man, that will not do. Your comrades often ing, and of a sun that had already set, where recollections make me the same promise, but they always forget to of grandeur faded into sensations of melancholy. And he keep it. I will give no more credit. If you have not the would gaze on a thronging auditory, the representatives money, leave something with me until you get it. The to his fancy of all that had been, and of all that was, and Emperor smiled, and, unfastening the clasp of his cloak, think of the intellects with which he had to grapple, and he threw it into the sledge. Here,' said he, take this.' of the hearts in whose very core he aimed to plant the On ascending to his apartments he directed his valet de barbed arrows of conviction. There was that multitude, chambre to take fifty roubles to the Iswotschilk who had so acute, so inquisitive, so polished, so athirst for novelty, driven him, and bring back his cloak. When the valet and so impressible by eloquence, yet with whom a barba- reached the spot where the Emperor had left the sledge, rian accent might break the charm of the most persuasive he found about twenty drawn up in a line. Which of tongue-over whom their own oligarchy of orators would you drove the Emperor?' inquired the valet. No one soon re-assert their dominion in spite of the invasion of a answered. Who has got a cloak?' said the valet, purstranger-and with whom sense, feeling, and habit, would suing his inquiry. 'An officer left his cloak with me,' throw up all their barriers against the eloquence of exclaimed a sledge driver. Give it to me, and here is Christianity. There would be the priest, astonished at your fare.'-Great St Nicholas !' exclaimed the astoan attempt so daring; and as the speaker's design opened nished driver, and seizing his reins he drove rapidly en his mind, anxiously, and with alternate contempt and away, amidst the shouts of the assembled Iswotschilks. rage, measuring the strength of the Samson who thus This happened on the eve of the grand review. After the grasped the pillars of his temple, threatening to whelm troops had defiled, all the commanders of corps formed a him, his altars, and his gods, beneath their ruins. group round the Emperor. Gentlemen,' said Alexanwould be the Stoic, in the coldness of his pride, looking der, I am much pleased with the fine appearance and sedately down, as on a child playing with children, to see excellent discipline of your troops. But tell your officers what new game was afloat, and what trick or toy was now from me, that they last night made me submit to the produced for wonderment. There the Epicurean, tasting, humiliation of leaving my cloak in pledge for my honesty.' as it were, the preacher's doctrine, to see if it promised Every one stared with astonishment. I assure you,' reaught of merriment; just lending enough of idle atten- sumed the Emperor, the sledge driver who brought me tion not to lose amusement should it offer; and venting home refused to trust me, because he said my comrades the full explosion of his ridicule on the resurrection of often forgot to pay him.'-Vincenza's Recollections of St the dead. There the sophist, won perhaps into some- Petersburgh. thing of an approving and complacent smile, by the dexterity of Paul's introduction; but finding as he proceeded that this was no mere show of art or war of words, and vibrating between the habitual love of entangling, bewildering, and insulting an opponent, and the repulsiveness which there always is to such men in the language of honest and zealous conviction. There the slave, timidly crouching at a distance to catch what stray sounds the winds might waft to him, after they had reached his master's ears, of that doctrine, so strange and blessed, of man's fraternity. There the young and noble Roman, who had come to Athens for education-not to sit like a humble scholar at a master's feet, but with all the pride of Rome upon his brow, to accept what artists, poets, and philosophers could offer as their homage to the lords of earth. And there, perhaps aloof, some scowling Jew, hating and hated,

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SIR WALTER SCOTT AND THE IRISH REAPER. As the late Sir Walter Scott was riding one day with a friend, in the neighbourhood of Abbotsford, he came to a field-gate, which an Irish reaper, who happened to be near, hastened to open for him. Sir Walter was desirous of rewarding this civility by the present of a sixpence, but found that he had not so small a coin in his purse. Here, my good fellow,' said the baronet, 'here is a shilling for you; but mind you owe me sixpence.' -Long life to your honour!' exclaimed Pat, may your honour live till I pay you!'

A NARROW BOUNDARY.

The line which separates regard and love is so fine, that the young heart transgresses the boundary, before it is aware of having even verged upon it.

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JERUSALEM.


FROM PIERTONT'S POEMS.'

Jerusalem, Jerusalem! how glad should I have been,

Could I, in my lone wanderings, thine aged walls have seen-
Could I have gazed upon the dome above thy towers that swells,
And heard, as evening's sun went down, thy parting camels' bells-
Could I have stood on Olivet, where once the Saviour trod,
And from its height looked down upon the city of our God!
For is it not, Almighty God, the Holy City still-
Tho' there thy prophets walk no more-that crowns Moriah's hill?
Thy prophets walk no more, indeed, the streets of Salem now,
Nor are their voices lifted up on Zion's saddened brow;
Nor are their garnished sepulchres with pious sorrow kept,"
Where once the same Jerusalem that killed them came and wept.
But still the seed of Abraham with joy upon it look,
And lay their ashes at its feet, that Kedron's feeble brook
Still washes, as its waters creep along their rocky bed,
And Israel's God is worshipped yet where Zion lifts her head.
Yes; every morning, as the day breaks over Olivet,
The holy name of Allah comes from every minaret;
At every eve the mellow call floats on the quiet air-
Lo, God is God! before him come-before him come for

prayer.'

I know, when at that solemn call the City holds her breath,
That Omar's mosque hears not the name of Him of Nazareth;
But Abraham's God is worshipped there alike by age and youth,
And worshipped-hopeth charity-in spirit and in truth.'

Yea, from that day when Salem knelt and bent her queenly neck
To lim who was at once her priest and king-Melchisedek,
To this, when Egypt's Abraham* the sceptre and the sword
Shakes o'er her head, her holy men have bowed before the Lord.
Jerusalem, I would have seen thy precipices steep-
The trees of palm that overhang thy gorges dark and deep-
The goats that cling along thy cliffs, and browse upon thy rocks,
Beneath whose shade lie down, alike thy shepherds and their flocks.
I would have mused, while night hung out her silver lamp so pale,
Beneath those ancient olive trees that grow in Kedron's vale,
Whose foliage from the pilgrim hides the city's wall sublime,
Whose twisted arms and gnarled trunks defy the scythe of Time.
The Garden of Gethsemane those aged olive trees

Are shading yet; and in their shade I would have sought the breeze
That, like an angel, bathed the brow, and bore to heaven the prayer,
Of Jesus, when in agony he sought the Father there.

I would have gone to Calvary, and where the Marys stood
Bewailing loud the Crucified, as near him as they could-
I would have stood, till night o'er earth her heavy pall had thrown,
And thought upon my Saviour's cross, and learn'd to bear my own.
Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thy cross thou bearest now-
An iron yoke is on thy neck, and blood is on thy brow;
Thy golden crown, the crown of truth, thou didst reject as dross,
And now thy cross is on thee laid-the Crescent is thy cross.
It was not mine, nor will it be, to see the bloody rod
That scourgeth thee, and long hath scourged, thou city of our God.
But round thy hill the spirits throng of all thy murder'd seers,
And voices that went up from it are ringing in my ears—
Went up that day, when darkness fell from all thy firmament,
And shrouded thee at noon; and when thy temple's vail was rent,
And graves of holy men, that touched thy feet, gave up their dead.
Jerusalem, thy prayer is heard-HIS BLOOD IS ON THY HEAD.

This name, now generally written Ibrahim, is the same as that of the father of the faithful,' the cotemporary of Melchisedek,

WHAT THE PRESS IS DOING.

There is an education going on, that, however irregular or unsystematic, is, at the same time, beyond all price. Myriads of messengers of knowledge, art, and science, and of peace on earth and good-will towards men, that our schools ought to inculcate, but do not, are scattered daily and hourly over the land by the printing press and the post-office, and with the most important results, as regards the preparation of the public mind for all the duties that it will have, by and by, to fulfil. This fact in itself is of such vast importance, that, were there no other evidence, we should rest perfectly satisfied that the present unexampled diffusion of intellectual wealth must be the cause and precursor of an unexampled advance in all that it behoves man to know; and the thunder follows not more surely the lightning, than action the knowledge how to act in communities.-Jerrold's Shilling Magazine.

PRESENT KNOWLEDGE PARTIAL.

The mode in which the necessarily incompleté revelation of the upper world is conveyed in the Scriptures, is perfectly in harmony with that in which the phenomena of nature offer themselves to our notice. The sum or amount of divine knowledge really intended to be conveyed to us, has been broken up and scattered over a various surface; it has been half-hidden, and half-displayed; it has been couched beneath hasty and incidental allusions; it has been doled out in morsels and in atoms. There are no logical synopses in the Bible; there are no scientific presentations of the body of divinity; no comprehensive digests; such as would have been not only unsuited to popular taste and comprehension, but actually impracticable; since they must have contained that which neither the mind of man can conceive, nor his language embody. Better far might a seraph attempt to convey the largeness of his celestial ideas to a child, than God impart a systematic revelation to man. On the contrary, it is almost as if the vessel of divine philosophy had been wrecked and broken in a distant storm, and as if the fragments only had come drifting upon our world, which, like an islet in the ocean of eternity, has drawn to itself what might be floating near its shores.— Isase Taylor

HYPOCRISY CREDITABLE TO RELIGION.

It ought to be recollected and borne in mind, that all hypocritical profession is a tacit admission of the excellence of that which is feigned. It is an implied compliment to the truth, and to the actual effects produced by it. A name for sanctity could never be sought where sanctity was not generally prevalent: nor would doctrines ever be professed as a cover for vice, of which virtue was not known to be the ordinary product. The existence of a counterfeit, then, presupposes the existence of a corresponding reality, and involves in it an attestation to its worth. No person would be at the pains to cut, and stamp, and gild copper, were there no coin of standar! gold for which it could be made to pass; nor would any one but a fool waste his skill, and time, and labour, in forging the promissory-notes of a bank which had lost its credit, and whose paper was known to have no value in himself to the risks attendant upon forgery, will choose a the currency of commercial intercourse. He who exposes house whose notes will not be questioned; and the very counterfeiting of its notes is a tacit acknowledgment of its stability and honour.-Dr Wardlaw.

THE IMPORTANCE OF RELIGION TO SOCIETY. It had been the constant boast of infidels that their system, more liberal and generous than Christianity, needed but to be tried to produce an immense accession to human happiness; and Christian nations, careless and supine, retaining little of religion but the profession, and disgusted with its restraints, lent a favourable ear to these pretensions. God permitted the trial to be made. In one country, and that the centre of Christendom, revelation underwent a total eclipse, while atheism, performing on a darkened theatre its strange and fearful tragedy, confounded the first elements of society, blended every age, rank, and sex in indiscriminate proscription and massacre, and convulsed all Europe to its centre-that the imperishable memorial of these events might teach the last generations of mankind to consider religion as of social order, which alone has power to curb the fury the pillar of society, the safeguard of nations, the parent of the passions, and secure to every one his rights-to the laborious the reward of their industry, to the rich the enjoyment of their wealth, to nobles the preservation of their honours, and to princes the stability of their

thrones.-Robert Hall.

Printed and published by JAMES HOGG, 122 Nicolson Street, Edinburgh; to whom all communications are to be addressed. Sold also by J. JOHNSTONE, Edinburgh; J. M'LEOD, Glasgow : W. M'COMB, Belfast; R. GROOMBRIDGE & SONS, London; and all Booksellers.

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