he jumped down, made all the travellers dismount, unloaded their baggage in the midst of the market place, then remounted his mule, cracked his whip, and set off back again.

re

Our poor emigrants, left to their own resources in a country with whose language and customs they were totally unacquainted, knew not what to do. "My children," said the father, after a pause, 66 main here with the baggage, I will go to the Governor, let us hope he will convey us to our destination, for we have not enough money left to procure a lodging at an inn. Take courage, my children, do not give way to impatience."

On arriving at the Governor's palace, Herman was immediately surrounded by negroes, but as none of them understood a word of German, it was impossible to have any communication with them. Soon, however, the door of the audience hall opened, and the Governor, a tall, thin man, with hard features, and a sallow complexion, made his appearance. Herman immediately attracted his attention, being the only white man present, he looked at him for a minute, and then waved his hand to him. Herman bowed respectfully, and handed him the Grant he had received at Rio. The Governor cast his eyes over it, made a sign to a slave, and disappeared again through the door by which he had entered, without uttering a word. Herman knew not what to think of so singular a reception. Hours rolled away, no one seemed to think about him or his affairs. At last the negro came back, made him a sign to follow him, and they returned to the market place. Herman found his children sitting under the rays of a burning sun, half dead with heat and thirst. The negro made them all fresh signs to follow him. They

had a longing desire to arrive at the end of their journey, but it was necessary to find a cart to transport their baggage. Thanks to the kind sailor, they had the means of paying for one, but how could they make any one understand what they wanted. Just at that moment an empty cart passed by. Herman ran after it, and his cries and signs at length induced the driver to stop and attend to him. He showed him a dollar, pointed to the baggage, and then made a sign that he wanted to leave the Town. The carter could not understand him, and stared stupidly at him; but the negro quicker in the language of signs, took upon him the office of interpreter. The price was agreed upon, and the baggage was soon loaded on the cart, to the great satisfaction of the family. After a journey of some miles, behold our travellers at length arrived at the long desired spot. A beautiful river appeared in sight, whose waters were pure as crystal. It was the Jiguitinhouha, on whose banks they were come to settle. The cart stopped, the negro helped them to unload their things, and remounting with the driver, left them all alone to their fate, after they had paid the latter the sum agreed upon.

THE FIRST NIGHT IN THE DESERT.

Night was approaching, and our poor emigrants felt themselves very lonely in these unknown regions. The country was magnificent and well wooded, but perfectly uninhabited. No signs of any human dwelling were to be seen; all was utter loneliness. A few birds with gay and gaudy plumage, were making the air resound with inharmonious screams, as they flew up to roost amidst the branches of the primeval forest. The buzz of

innumerable insects, and the croaking of frogs were the only other sounds which broke the silence of the desert.

"Dear children," said Herman, "the Lord has guided our steps hitherto, fear not but that He will continue to protect us. May His Holy Name be blessed!"

"Yes, may His Holy Name be ever blessed!" repeated all the children.

66

"But, father," said Margaret, sighing, we have no shelter, and night is coming on."

"We will get through this night as well as we can," replied her father, "and to-morrow we will set to work to build a cottage to shelter us, from the wild beasts and chill night air."

"Ah! if Conrad were but with us," sighed Margaret. There was a mournful pause.

"Let us not lose courage," resumed Herman, "God will grant us strength to extricate ourselves out of our present state of misery. The most urgent necessity at this minute, is to find a shelter for to night. The air is becoming cold, and the dew in these hot climates is hurtful to the health." As he spoke, he began to search on all sides for some grotto in the rocks that bordered the river, or for some large hollow tree. His search, however, proving fruitless, he said to William, "Climb this tree, with the hatchet, and cut down some branches with which we may make a hut. A thick bed of leaves and dried grass will keep us from the damp soil. Do you, Margaret and Annette, collect the leaves, while I dig holes for the branches that William cuts down." Notwithstanding their fatigue, they began their labour immediately. William found his job a hard one, the wood was very tough; it was an old mahogany tree. By dint of per

severance, however, he succeeded, and then descended from the tree to help his father to build the hut. When finished, Margaret and Annette filled it with a soft bed of dried grass and leaves, and our poor travellers threw themselves upon it, overcome with the fatigues of the day. Their need of rest, however, did not make them neglect the religious duty which not one of them had ever omitted since childhood. Kneeling by each other, they made their evening prayer together, and the father gave his blessing to his children. A few instants after this act of piety all were fast asleep, excepting Herman, who resisted all desire of repose and watched over his family.

Dr. Hammond was wont to say, "the idle man's brain was not only the devil's shop, but his kingdom too, a model of and an appendage unto hell, a place given up to torment and to mischief."

"Have always some work in hand, which may be going on during the many intervals (for many there will always be) both of business and pleasure."-Bp. Horne.

"Of prayer, there are two uses. It serveth as a means to procure those things which God hath promised to grant when we ask; and it serveth as a means to express our lawful desires also towards that, which, whether we shall have or no, we know not till we see the event."-Hooker.

"Nature has perfections, in order to show that she is the image of God, and defects, in order to show that she is only His image."Pascal.

RIGHT AFFECTIONS.

"Beware the pine-tree's withered

branch!

Beware the awful avalanche!"

This was the peasant's last good night!
A voice replied, far up the height,
Excelsior!

At break of day, as heavenward
The pious monks of Saint Bernard
Uttered the oft-repeated prayer,

A voice cried through the startled air,
Excelsior!

A traveller, by the faithful hound,
Half-buried, in the snow was found,
Still grasping in his hand of ice
That banner, with the strange device,
Excelsior!

There, in the twilight cold and gray,
Lifeless, but beautiful he lay,
And from the sky, serene and far,
A voice fell like a falling star,
Excelsior!

Longfellow (American Poet.)

THOUGHTS ON A SICK-BED. Oh! heavy weary hours of midnight pain! Sleep shuns my drooping eyelids, and my soul

Longs for the coming of the laggard day, Counting the hours that linger in their flight.

While ever and anon my restless eye Wanders to where the first faint ray of

morn

Should lift night's gloomy curtain. All is still

Save when the night-breeze fans the flickering lamp,

Which drooping seems to slumber while it burns.

No welcome dawning ray dispels the gloom;

Night, pain, and weariness alone remain. Cease thy complaining! Patience troubled heart!

Days brightest hours can bring thee no relief;

And if they could, night would but come again.

Thou long'st for that which satisfieth not, And fleeteth fast away.

Oh! that my soul With equal longing, earnest, full desire, Even as the hart pants for the summer streams,

Would thirst and cry for God the living

THEBES.

Some travellers, imbued with Pantheistic philosophy, have not scrupled to set forth the Egyptian legends as the fountains from whence Christianity itself

was

derived. As early as Napoleon's time, French infidelity went to seek for wisdom in Egypt, and German Pantheism is still ransacking the tombs and temples of Thebes. Even one of our own country-people has been found to write a popular book of travels, wherein the old Polytheism of Egypt is set in array against our Holy Religion. Disgusted with the profanity of these writers, Christian travellers have usually avoided, or touched lightly upon, the subject of Egyptian antiquities, and thus this vast field of antient learning has been suffered to remain in the hands of our enemies. When I found myself among the gorgeous treasures of Thebes, it struck me that there must be some mean between a Pantheistic study of these works, and an utter and contemptuous neglect of them. Those who can place the carnal allegory of Osiris beside the mystery of our Lord's Incarnation, must, indeed, be utterly insensible to the true spiritual character of Christianity; and I am not surprised that the children of this world should prefer the Thebes of Osiris and his earthly worship, to the Thebes of S. Anthony the Hermit, who, among its deserts and its tombs, is said to have fought the true fight of Christ against the powers of evil-not for fertilizing the soil of Egypt, but for winning souls to Christ by prayer, and for attaining an eternal reward in Him. And yet, for all this, it is not impossible but that (if the Sibyls were allowed to foretell the stupendous

event of the Incarnation of God) the truth should have been fore

shadowed in the ancient heathen systems, and that Osiris, stretching forth his arms to men, should have been a feeble and traditional type of the crucified Redeemer of the world. Why not so?

In tomb, No. 11, I was much pleased with the various representations of trades. The whole domestic life of those old people is brought vividly before one, and all their civilization pourtrayed. In this tomb and some others there are, remaining, unfinished sketches, shewing great skill in the use of the pencil, which prove, to my mind, that the stiffness of Egyptian art and its want of grouping arose, not from want of knowledge or skill, but from conventionality. Conventional representations are, I suppose, well suited to religion, and for this reason have been adopted in the Gothic as well as in the old

Egyptian style. If some future age were to judge of our art by the stained windows, carved figures, and brass monuments of our modern Gothic churches, they would conclude that we were subject to the same artistic defect that we attribute to the antient Thebans. As compared with Grecian art, that of Egypt was essentially of a religious character. The Greeks were naturalists, or copyists of the real, in the fullest sense of the word. The Egyptians, like the early Christian painters, were symbolists, representing certain subjective types in the place of objective forms. Without choosing to rank myself with those revivers of our day, who would thrust Christian art back into the fourteenth and