and thought it rather strange that he should send over so many little presents of flowers, fruits, and vegetables to me, when my garden was then the admiration of the place. However, I put up with these pleasant impertinences as meekly as a lamb, as well as various others my vanity will not permit me to mention.

I felt I had done my duty, and rendered an important service to the young people, who might, but for my quiet and apparently simple plans, have been to this day vegetating in separate existences, mutually discontented and longing for a change. I felt they had no longer any need of me, except as a kind of harbour where they might deposit the child when in the evening they wished to take a walk,-when they had a duet to practise together, at which a third was not wanted,for all these things came to pass, and much more; but I pretended, nevertheless, to be desperately surprised when Nelly came to tell me that soon Louisa was going to live at the cottage altogether, and be a new mama to her.

Well, and a new mama she became, and although there was a deal of scandal about one who had been so fond of his wife marrying again, it was after all but the natural course of things,-for let our love be deep as the unfathomed ocean-strong as rocks unshaken since the foundation of the world-its very strength consumes itself, and love must have something more than a shadow to feed upon, Memory is a sweet and hallowed thing, but it is unphilosophical to suppose that because the cheek is bedewed with tears to-day, it will not be dry to-morrow. Such is the course of events in this life,-our pleasures, our pomps, our joys, our enthusiasms, pass, then why not our griefs also. Some are not blessed with this elasticity of heart. I, for one, loved in the long past with an earnestness that made my soul tremble for years after the reality of my life was gone; and I never did or could forget, and when others sought me turned indifferently away. That is why I am an old maid, cheerful and happy, but with many drawbacks. Woman needs a protector, and that is why I determined that Louisa Carter should not face the long array of dark years that precede our passage to the grave without some companion to assist her through her trials. I had my reward: for, shortly, I saw the cottage brighten, an active spirit re-animate all,-the house, the garden, the flowers,-and in progress of years, little children came as playmates to blueeyed Nelly, who had been the innocent tool of our plans.

In conclusion, my advice to young ladies is, that if they want to win a bachelor, they must make use of the whole artillery of their charms,-be gay, and lively, and play, and sing, and dress; but if they set their minds upon a widower, they must creep into his heart by slow and gentle means,-by low words, kind sympathizing looks; must touch without jarring tender chords,-must take opportunities of reviving the recollection of old comforts, and if he have a child, to remember how Louisa Carter treated it: then they too may stand a fiar chance of securing a home as happy and as blessed as I have ever known hers to be.

N .8. VOL. XXXIV.

U

Literature.

A RIDE THROUGH THE NUBIAN DESERT.

BY CAPTAIN W. PEEL, R. N.

HERE is a little unpretending volume which, in its own modes way, abundantly proves that "the age of chivalry is" not gone; that the age of sophisters, economists, and calculators, has" not "succeeded;" and that "the glory of Europe is" not "extinguished for ever." The immortal spirit of Edmund Burke may find consolation in the circumstance that "the unbought grace of life, the cheap defence of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment, and heroic enterprise" is still among us; and, in truth, acceptable as is the testimony which is given to the fact in the few pages before us, the narrative of Captain Peel was scarcely required to convince us that the most intense commercial activity is not inconsistent with the sublimest humanity, and that the finest heroism may co-exist with the most steady and practical obedience to the laws of economic science.

Lord Herbert of Cherbury, had he been among us, might, in his calmer moments, have taken such a ride as that upon which the young sailor ventured in his strong desire to mitigate the unhappiness of his sable fellow creatures. He left England on the 20th of August, 1851, on board the Pottinger for Alexandria; and he em

barked

"With the object of travelling in Soudan, hoping, by the blessing of the Almighty, to help to break the fetters of the negro, to release him from the selfish Mussulman, from the sordid European; to tell him there is a God that made us all-a Christ that came down and died for all."

Soudan, or Nigritia, is a vast region of Central Africa, with undefined limits, and unapproachable but by certain well-defined perils of land and water, of climate and man, that might easily appal the bravest. They did not much distress the naval adventurer. "Resolution," he writes

"Stifled all objections and carried me aboard. We sailed, and then, knowing it could no longer influence my course, I gave way to the deepest despair. All that affection, all that temptation could hold out, rose in their most alluring form; and so time wore on, for the first days very heavily, till Cape St. Vincent awoke me to other feelings-reminded me of the enthusiasm of my boyhood. Now all homesick, lovesick yearnings vanished, and again I trod the deck with a high hope; my heart was lifted with England's honour."

The companion of the expedition was M. Churi, a Maronite of the

Lebanon, twenty-five years of age, who had left his country when a boy to be brought up at the Propaganda college at Rome. After receiving the highest religious education, M. Churi, almost penniless, set out to seek his fortune, and finally settled in England, where he gave lessons in Arabic and Italian. Captain Peel became his pupil, and they travelled together in the East. After a happy tour, the travellers returned to England, and M. Churi re-commenced his teaching. Captain Peel had, however, set his heart upon the work to be done in Soudan, and proposed a second and more hazardous jour ney to his tutor. The latter refused, but at the last moment consented. The captain wanted nothing more, for he had at his side "a firm friend, jealous of his honour, and ready to face any danger to serve him."

The youthful adventurers duly reached Alexandria and Cairo, and then set out to the Nile, resolved, with the help of Heaven, to complete their humane and benevolent mission. We will hastily follow them. on their course. In five days the Nile boat brings them to Keneh; on the 22nd of September they are as far as Assouan. It is the limit of Egypt and Nubia :-" In approaching we passed several villages to which our boatmen belonged, and it was a pretty sight to see how all the people, young and old, turned out to welcome them." Sad villages! Formed of huts made of unburned bricks or date leaves stuccoed with mud, about eight feet high, pulverized by the sun, "a heap of dirt and dust, standing on the accumulated rubbish of centuries." Yet not wholly unhappy villager, as his fine form and serene countenance indicate, albeit he daily works for no gentle taskmaster from daily dawn till dusk, naked, exposed to the sun, often without a covering to his head or loins, standing all day in the water, digging a trench with his hands, or cutting the mud with his feet. Before proceeding on the voyage, the traveller notes, for the reader's information, that "the water of the Nile is of a deep brown colour, and when drawn in a glass or basin it looks still more strongly discoloured. The earth it contains is called in Arabic ableez," which means fat, or grease, and is an extremely soft and oily substance. When poured over the body, the water runs like oil, and when filtered through an earthen jar is deliciously light to drink." On the 27th of September, Korusko is reached. Here the travellers must disembark, for the road lies across the Nubian desert, which their feet touch almost as soon as they land.

On the 28th, Korusko was left behind, and the land journey commenced. The party consisted of the captain and Churi, an Egyptian cook, the Couwass, an Arab guide, and four Arabs. Life and vegetation were missed in the course of a few minutes, blackened hills and broken granite rocks were approached, and the march was silent, "the camels advancing in line abreast over the broad pavement of closepacked sand." The sand glared with light, the heat was intense, the hot south wind came like the breath of a furnace; not so much as a withered straw could be seen around. "We halted at seven o'clock

that night, but only to feed the camels; there was no time to make a fire; we, therefore, drank water and ate onions for our dinner. The march was then resumed. I never was more fatigued; my tongue was parched and the throat painfully swollen. We came to a halt at twenty minutes past one o'clock, when I stretched my poor body on the sand to sleep, and my mind wandered by the side of rippling streams in the earthly paradise of England." At five next morning the party were early afoot-having drunk water for their breakfastand until eight, when a halt was cried, they marched "under the sickening heat of a morning sun without food." Faint from hunger, the captain eagerly inquired for the bill of fare. Horror! It was discovered that everything had been forgotten. There was no firewood, there were no eggs, no meat, no vegetables, for even the onions were gone. Sir Robert's son turned with the fierceness of an African tornado upon his suite. The cook sneaked away, the Couwass retired, the faithful Churi alone stood still to receive the full force of the hungry man's rage. But "Churi loves his friend too well to care for his hasty words. He said he had tried his best; he thought I knew there was nothing." It was necessary to look the calamity quietly in the face. The actual amount of supplies was called over. There was a bag of rice, and some stale bread, and some tea and coffee; nothing more. Arrangements were made accordingly. In crossing the desert food was taken twice a day-boiled rice and coffee in the morning, boiled rice and tea in the evening. "The faithful Churi" was even more frugal. He restricted himself to soaked bread and water.

And thus pained by the hot south wind, and scorched by the glaring sand, the abstemious and noble-hearted travellers go forward. Hear one of them in the burning and oppressive silence. He has left life behind him, but death is his companion:

"Take care or you will stumble over its victim. Leave the road, you perish; follow the track of the caravan, and rotting carcasses are its milestones. Why is the voice of the caravan so hushed, and why do you urge your camel's speed? See! Your spirit is wounded; you are musing on a secret in your own breast, and yet it is known to all. Look at that horrid object that lay in your own path, his head turned back and his mouth wide open; he wanted water, death has mocked him and choked it with sand; he wanted air, the wind is laughing through his ribs; he struggled to reach his journey's end, his feet are striking in the air. It is not death that scares you; it is its insults that you cannot avenge; the curse of mortality, the disgust of nature; it is corruption stinking in the nostrils of heaven. Happy are we who have been taught the blessed hope that this corruption is the seed of incorruption, the pledge of immortality!"

Rising the following morning, Captain Peel informed the governor of Kardofan of his wish to go on at once to Darfoor. The governor was as much grieved by the intelligence as the other had been, and begged the traveller to wait at least until the messenger's return. The traveller could brook no such delay, but he split the difference with

his counsellor by consenting to travel for the present no further than the confines of Darfoor, "beyond which even the Arabs could not go;" where he would await the Sultan's answer to the petition already in his hands. Providence is more potent than Eastern governors. The self-willed captain, who would not listen to the voice of reason, was compelled to obey a voice from which folly and impatience appeal in vain. The very first day after his appearance in Layabed, poor Churi was seized with fever and ague, and two days afterwards his companion was violently attacked with the same complaint. On the 26th November Captain Peel first began to crawl, but Churi was still apparently in a dying state. To speak truth, they had not the best quarters in the world.

"Layabed stands in a vast plain, and is a straggling collection of mud huts with thatched cone roofs. It has to be rebuilt almost every year after the rainy season. As soon as night sets in, there is a furious howling of wild beasts, leopards and hyænas, all round, who are kept off by strong abattis of thorns, beyond which the dogs yell them defiance. Water sometimes is very scarce, and the wells are nearly one hundred feet deep; it is extremely unwholesome."

What wonder that Captain Peel, as soon as he could stand erect, should entreat the faithful Churi, had he only half a leg to stand upon, to avail himself of that half to hop out of so miserable a hole? On the 27th November-let it be a red day in your calendar, oh captain! -the two friends shook hands with the Governor, turned their heels upon the hyænas, and made the best of their way to Khartoun. As for the poor Arab messenger, who had been sent on to the Sultan of Darfoor, nobody, it appears, ever heard of him again. Captain Peel thinks some accident must have happened to him, or it is just possible that the Sultan may have torn up the note and the bearer together. The return journey is a pleasanter business for reader and writer. The mind of the former ceases to be oppressed-the pen of the latter. assumes a livelier and more entertaining tone. We could have afforded more time to spend on the road, and to listen to longer descriptions of men and beasts, of customs and scenery, than any the author has cared to furnish. It is not often that we have to complain of brevity in a traveller's journey. The diary of Captain Peel is much too short. He has capacity for narrative, and his paintings have all the simplicity, truth, and quiet power of nature. Let him instruct the public without risking his own neck in the attempt. Moreover, the blacks are not so much in need of his services as the whites. All our fetters are not yet broken; and who shall say, looking around, and noting the absence among men of true Christian charity, that our conversion is complete? Verily the European field is not exhausted. We have, however, fears for our author. Who knows but the restless spirit is on the wing again? It is certain he cannot be quiet and be happy. "It was," he says, "with a feeling of reluctance that I left the dry air and reckless life of the desert for the murky climate and wordy warfare of England;" and when he reached Cairo