Then Arthur Seat, the Frith of Forth, and Leith, where there's some shipping still, Newhaven with its fishermen, its steam-boats, and its pier; The coasts of Fife, to which your wife must constantly be tripping still, her many heads,--and Osiris,-and Apis,—and all the deities of a long-prostrate idolatry-each after each started out on the enkindling marbles, as if to greet some sistergoddess in the melancholy moon. Gazing upon these, it was almost my expectation to listen to the transit of some sacred dialogue, issuing from the colossal oracles of Thebes, and the pale and passing luminary that shed influence over their shrines; but silence had placed a seal To get a little country air for two months in the year. St George's dome, St Andrew's spire, the minarets Epis-over the sacredness of that god-filled city, and only was O! what a town, what a wonderful metropolis! There is not in all the world a city like our own; Whene'er I stand upon this hill-this modern AcropolisI feel myself a prouder man than William on his throne. It has ever been our wont to mingle some light or imaginative prose sketches with the miscellaneous verses of our SLIPPERS, and our SLIPPERS shall be to the last what they have been from the first. There are many symptoms of a wild and original imagination in the following sketch : THE LAST OF THE PTOLEMIES. By Thomas Tod Stoddart. heard the low and religious murmur of the fane-skirting I stood in Thebes, the sarcophagus of Egypt. Three millenniums had revolved, and the hundred-gated city was in ruins. The stupendous spirit of her idolatry had de. parted her temples, that had groaned under the kneeworship of antiquity, hung forth their grey ruins to the religion of the passing wind. Far as the eye could see, was the stretch of those imperial vestiges that told of Egypt as of the palace of nations ;-ridges of pyramids obelisks fallen or semi-razed-wizard Sphinxes and Mem-eye looked marble in its blue and fallen socket,—and I yons-columus of magnificent granite, their capitals shat- discerned the furrows below as if they had been irrigated tered the fluted shaft half coffined in sand-fanes open- by a few solitary tears, still damp between the deep ing up their hieroglyphed fronts, as if to show the theatre ridges that rose all over his countenance. He was of their gorgeous priestcraft-catacombs disclosing the clad in the Arab fashion,seemingly a patriarch of one swathed relics of mortality,—all burst before me in their of those savage tribes that hold their home in the wilderself-contrasted grandeur. Standing on a ruinous emi-ness with the fire-winged sirocco. Saluting me accordnence, I thought to behold Tentyra on the north-to ing to the custom of the East, he entered into a strange whom the blue Nile seemed carrying down the whispers panegyric of the surrounding ruins. "You are no worof her Theban brother; but the golden sunset made no shipper of the prophet—be praised, gods! that the infidel effort to reveal her distant and solitary walls, and a grey shuns our dwelling. Ha! do'st thou see yon Memnon the mist lay on the horizon in one vast and impenetrable sun-minstrel-he that gazes to Heliopolis, and her whose circle. Thebes, however, flooded in a glow of crimson eye is as the panther's, that old sphinx, beside whom is from the departing luminary, appeared as if in the embryo coiling Cneph, the paternal god? Days were, and the ibis of a restoration. A divinity seemed brooding over the nested in her flowing tresses, calling to worship the kinguntenanted palaces, about to give back the Ptolemy to his descendants of the great Sesostris; and Memnon stretched throne and the long shadows that threw themselves his hand to his sun-bird, the phoenix, to give it whisper towards the desert, were as the images of departing Deso- of consuming passion toward the daughter of the desert; lation and sated Ruin. Methought I could fancy the and the sphinx through her ear of beauty heard the rolling of chariots over the heavy sands-their studs of secret of his love, and she sent her ibis back with a Araby shaking off the dew from their crests, as they car- mournful song to tell to the conqueror of the world. These ried forward some godlike hero to his home-and the were the loves of the giants-the old chieftains! Look hum of approaching music brought with it a group of on me, outcast as I am from immortality. I am kin Egyptian nymphs echoing the paan of victorious war, dred to these born of their majestic lineage, heir to their with the silver of their voice and the ring of their melo- thrones, their temples, their palaces, their eternal pyradious timbrels. It was a moment's delusion. The fabrics mids. Nile had been my kingdom's river-Nile, with I beheld faded into one grey mass, on which Melancholy, his seven mouths, gazing, Pharos-eyed, over the tideless like some wearied Amazon, had stretched her solitary waters that chain Africa to her European brother. limbs, and the Memnons and the Sphinxes were only Memphis had been mine, the grey wizard in my empire discerned as they hid from before me a space in that of magic. I had trampled the Moor under foot to the galaxy of stars that soon gazed out over the arch of west, and eastward waved my sceptre far as Ethiopia. heaven; nor, till the moon had paled their gigantic brows, The monarchies of Europe had stretched out the hand of could I contemplate the unearthliness of those features, amity, and given me a throne in their councils. I go that looked mockery upon the creations of an after-genius. back to my worship-to Osiris-to the pale Ibis of the Cneph, coiling over the portals of magnificent fanes, old Myronymon to the vaults of Typhon, the sinand Horus, the emblem-god of mystery, and Isis, with god." I had gazed upon a descendant + of the Ptolemies, the last link of that long lineage, whose earliest ancestry was birthed in the mystery of old millenniums-far back amid the haze of antiquity, a faithful inference of the asp. bitten queen-the Rome-worshipped Cleopatra-the heir consecutive to the monarchy of the Pharaohs a king throneless born, with a sovereignty of ruins, and only the Nile-the blue river, unaltered from her natal majesty-when she first shoaled round the basis of Theban bulwark, and took on her immortal bosom shadows of the new-sprung pyramid, long ere it gathered the swarthiness of ages, and murmured at the inroad of temples on either side, making herself an avenue of columns, and washed the feet of obelisks, whose pilgrim marbles were floated down from the now dark and untrodden mountains, where the savage of Abyssinia hath planted his indomitable fastness, to secure him from the research of science, from the infallible religion, from brotherhood with Europe, the ripe cheek of the world. We have to-day a strong muster of old friends. Here #are both a song and a sonnet by one of them, full of true it and gentle feeling : SONG. Air-" Benedetto mi madre." By Thomas Brydson. 'Neath the convent's high ceiling The death-bell is pealingThe veil'd nuns are kneeling Around the dark bier, Where sleeps in her white shroud, Now the last song is swelling, O, life, thou'rt a madness— With a night of deep sadness, SONNET.THE DAYS OF SUPERSTITION. By Thomas Brydson. There seems a charm about those days departed, By time-taught Reason's disenchanting eye!— Behold another old acquaintance-Lorma, whose jeu d'esprit, entitled "A T Party," in the last Christmas Number, is one of the cleverest instances of alliteration in the language. He writes at present on a graver theme, vigorously and with pathos.-Hast thou, too, Lorma, felt the misery of blighted affection ? NEVER! “NEVER !”—There's poison in the sound, That chills my life's blood to the core,That drags my spirit to the ground, ! Without one hope of rising more Better loves she the snow and the hail, Away! away! before the wind! That long-tail'd comet is far behind; The great round moon !-tu-whit! tu-whoo! I ride on her rim when I've nothing to do,—— I ride on her rim, and I laugh as I go, Men flatter a lordling who comes into place, If they rode on the moon, through the boundless blue, Let us not forget James Miller, who has written seve ral sweet and simple songs in his native tongue, and the following will add to the list; My Well, thank God, it is over; Tancred and Sigismunda has been acted with unlooked for success. friend Garrick did wonders, although, as you will afterwards see, his success was wormwood to one of my oldest and truest friends, a worthy fellow for all that, and, like myself, of social habits. Quin, who was with me during the performance, was but a Job's comforter; and while he told me the characters were finely imagined, added, that the actors, including little Davy, had not mind enough to understand my conceptions; and their bad acting would infallibly ruin the play. However, he admitted that Mr Cibber had some merit, but that Garrick strutted about too much like a Bantam cock, and that he had not a particle of tenderness in his composition. This was bad enough, and you, my dear friend, must have pitied me; but I was rewarded at last, for my play was rapturously received, and even Quin, prejudiced as he is, obliged to admit that little Davy had acquitted himself almost as well as he could have done himself. Doddington joined us in the course of the evening, and attempted to mitigate the severity of Quin's observations, but without effect, for he continued game to the last, and contended that the success of the tragedy was owing entirely to its own merits, and was very little promoted by the efforts of the actors. At last Quin's natural benevolence conquered his spleen, and he rejoiced as much as I could possibly have done at my triumph. I had previously agreed to sup with him, be the event what it might; he very justly remarking, whether Tancred was damned or not, supper was a damned good meal, that could not be dispensed with, and that a glass of sack punch would exhilarate my spirits if depressed, or heighten them if elated. Accordingly, off we set, and took Doddington with us, and I have not passed so pleasant an evening for many years. Quin was in the best spirits, and Doddington in excellent humour, laying aside his usual pomposity of manners. Quin became amazingly affectionate; first of all it was "Doddy," and then "Bubb"-a freedom which the courtier, who is indeed a good creature, pocketed. When the evening had advanced, I ventured to propose the health of Garrick, to whom I am under great obligations, and Quin, without hesitation, pledged a bumper to the toast, confessing that Davy had something in him after all; "but had I been Tancred," said he, "by G—, I would have electrified them!" and with that he gave us some exhibitions, which nearly made Doddington and myself die with laughter, for the love speeches he had selected were given in the same manner as if he were about to address the Roman senate. Fortunately for us, he was too much taken up with himself to attend to us. We left him spouting at four o'clock, and I slipped home with Doddington in his chariot. I have already said so much of myself, that I have only room to add, that I am in treaty for sale of the copyright, for a sum that will astonish you, and which I will tell you about in my next. Tom, believe me to be your attached friend, (Addressed,) Mr Wm. Paterson, With kindest love to at Mrs Nichol's, Rochester (Kent.) JAMES THOMSON. THE PEAR-TREE WELL. Near yon green spot, 'mid waving woods, There I in youth was wont to dream, I cull'd bright flowers-nor mark'd the hours Fond mem'ry still hangs o'er that spot: The bridge that spann'd the crystal brook- That wooded bank I've stroll'd along, That round that fountain's margin met,— Now years have past,-that lovely place I hear the shouts of stranger men And cares and griefs my bosom swell; Ah! boyhood scenes, dear to my heart, And when I'm laid with them that rest, That this green turf may wrap my breast, And my grave be beneath that tree, The song of birds my funeral knell ; Then, freed from foes, sweet my repose, Lull'd by the murmuring Pear-Tree Well. M. S. Travelling a little farther west, we arrive at the good town of Paisley, and there we find the author of some stanzas with which we are well pleased : STANELY CASTLE. Old Stanely, thy walls so bleak and bare, In the days of mail'd warrior knight, They mind us of feasting in the hall And many a merry lay recall Of the ancient minstrelsy; And they mind us of love in the ladye's bower, When the lovely streaks of rising morn We hear the sound of the huntsman's horn As he follows the fleet red-deer; Or the merry yo! ho! through wood and glen, They mind us of tilt and tournament, We witness the gallant knight's return And we feel our hearts within us burn, At the altar, from his fair ladye, He has won by his matchless braverye, And we note the hooded monks around, But all is changed! no music now Resounds through thy arched halls, At the early dawn of rising morn, For they all have fled from the face of men, Within thy walls no festive band By matchless valour earn'd; And we mark no marriage-train wend its way The deep-toned bell sounds merry no more; And monk, and fair ladye, and warrior bold, Paisley. J. J. Sailing down that beautiful river, the Clyde, as in days of yore we have rejoiced to do, we reach Helensburgh, in the discoveries of the present day, there is mention of whole chambers, and whole series of excavations, systematically filled with the mummies of the bird. In the subterraneous caverns of Abousir—the famed repositories of birds-travellers find a sort of conical jar, made of coarse earthenware, and the cover of it luted on with the mud of the Nile. This urn contains an embalmed bird, swathed in linen, and so described by the travellers, as to be taken for no other than the sacred ibis. The urns lie on their sides with the mouths outwards; they are packed in regular tiers from floor to roof; and the Arabs, who seem to have had patience to examine, assert that the series are continued to an infinite distance from the front backwards. The ibis was a long-legged bird, nearly of the size of a partridge; its body was covered with snow-white plumage, and its extremities were tipped with black. It frequented the Nile, fed on insects, and was called the enemy of serpents. The priests told Herodotus that the ibis, every spring, encountered the winged serpents coming into Egypt, and destroyed them. From its service in this particular, as well as in devouring the reptiles and insects of the land, arose that sacred protection and ceremony, with which it had, from time immemorial, been regarded. At the present day, there is in Egypt, a bird, corresponding with the old mention of the ibis, and with its mummies, now found in the urns, which is believed by the sçavans and naturalists to be the sacred fowl of the ancient priests. In the pagan times of Egypt, the hierarchy inflicted the pain of death on any of the people who had killed an ibis even by accident; and this ancient prejudice remains at the present day, for the natives are greatly offended if one of these birds is wantonly destroyed. The solemn sacrifice and burial of an ibis took place on the initiation of a priest, and at other public and private ceremonies.-The history of the hawk is well known, as its rapacity has signalized it in many countries, to be the terror of the helpless. But it seems to be more gentle in Egypt, for Pococke says he saw the pigeon and the hawk perched amicably together. The brilliancy of its eye rendered this bird an emblematic type of the sun :-to Osiris, therefore, it was sacred. Osiris, or the sun, was worshipped under the figure of a hawk, and the bird is frequently sculptured on AN ACCOUNT OF SOME OF THE SACRED ANIMALS OF EGYPT, the ancient excavations. In these, its image, like that CHIEFLY RELATING TO SEPULTURE. The animal race of Egypt was not numerous for an African country, but it must have been carefully pro. tected, as every beast, according to Herodotus, was held in veneration. Whoever was known to have killed a hawk, could not escape the punishment of death. The dying of a cat or dog was an occasion of the deepest mourning. But it required the artifice of the priesthood to nourish a religious propriety of adoration, and at the same time prevent the political evil of bestial swarms. The phoenix, ibis, and hawk, are the most remarkable of the feathered tribe, for the ceremonies with which they were regarded. The history of the phoenix is well known to be fabulous; and the reasons of its adoration are not sufficiently established. Herodotus appears to have seen drawings, in which its size and form resembled the eagle's, and its wings were of a ruby and golden hue, The priests maintained that the phoenix was seen in Egypt, only once in five centuries, on the regular occasion of the new bird carrying the body of its parent to the Temple of the sun.—The history of the ibis is better authenticated; for, in coincidence with the clear records of Herodotus, it is found, by modern travellers, in the subterranean tombs. And the circumstance of the bird's identity is sufficiently confirmed, although the localities are at variance with history, which has given Hermopolis as the exclusive deposit. In like manner, it is related that the cats were buried at Bubastis, and yet we do not fail to find them at Gurnook and other places in great numbers. The ibis was embalmed, and afterwards entombed with much solemnity and care. And of the fox, is often quite detached from hieroglyphic symbolism, and stands as a charm, or merely an ornament. The present natives, and even the Turks of Egypt, never kill this bird; and among the old heathen, its destruction was a capital offence. The solemn rites of embalming and interment were performed on the hawk at Butos in the Delta. Among quadrupeds, the cat, dog, and hippopotamus, chiefly claim our attention; but of these we have least to do with the hippopotamus, as it is the least connected with sepulture. This animal had cloven hoofs, the mane and tail of a horse, a thick and ponderous hide, and in size equalled a large ox. It was sacred to that district of Egypt, in which the crocodile was abhorred; and the beasts were each symbolical of one event-the Deluge, although they had a great enmity the one to the other. It never descended farther into Egypt than the cataracts near Philœ, or the straits and falls of the Nile at the southern extremity of the land. In the beginning of the Persian conquest, we find the Egyptians severely bowing to the sanctity of animals. Cambyses opened the eastern gate of the land with the key of Egyptian superstition, and burst the barriers of Pelusium with a holy and inviolable vanguard. The townsmen shrunk from the defence of the city, when they beheld the sacred animals of their country exposed, on the ranks of the enemy, to the first brunt of their own resistance. The cat and the dog were the principal actors in this singular scene of brute ascendency, but here maintained a part by no means unproportioned to their usual consequence. For when a domestic cat sickened and died, the family lamented the |