lished a translation since Cary's, which, in all the highest qualities of a translation, has left its predecessors far behind.] 66 Through me ye enter the abode of woe: Through me to endless sorrow are ye brought: By Power Almighty was my fabric wrought, All hope abandon-ye who enter here." Whereat I cried : 66 O master! with deep awe Their sense I mark." Like one prepared, he said, 66 Here must each thought of cowardice be dead.- The melancholy shades shalt thou survey, Of God-the mind's supremest good-deprived." I cried: "O master, what is this I hear? Proceed from those, who, when on earth they were, Here with those caitiff angels they abide, Who stood aloof in heaven-to God untrue, Yet wanting courage with his foes to side. Heaven drove them forth, its beauty not to stain; And Hell refuses to receive them too : From them no glory could the damn'd obtain." "O master, what infliction do they bear," I said, "which makes them raise such shrieks of woe?" No hope of death have this unhappy crew; Speak we no more of them-but look-and pass." That seem'd incapable of rest, and turn'd, Do these sad souls, whose state I fain would learn, As by the doubtful twilight I discern?" Mine eyes cast down, my looks o'erwhelm'd with shame, I spake not till beside the stream we came. Lo! in a vessel o'er the gloomy tide 66 An old man comes his locks all white with age : 66 Woe, woe to you, ye guilty souls!" he cried; Hope not that heaven shall ever bless your sight : To ice, and fire, in realms of endless night: 66 Thee a far lighter vessel shall convey." Charon," my guide return'd, "thy wrath restrain : The dark lake's pilot heard ;—and at the sound Fell instant his rough cheeks, while flashing ranged But they-soon as these threatenings met their ear- Beckoning the mournful troop, collects them there, And with his oar strikes each reluctant soul." Drop one by one, until the branch, laid bare, The guilty race of Adam from that strand,- Fresh numbers to this shore come crowding down. To pass the stream they rush thus hastily; 277.-THE NILE AND THE DESERT. H. MARTINEAU. [FROM EASTERN LIFE, PAST AND PRESENT.] DIODORUS SICULUS tells us that Ante (supposed by Wilkinson to be probably the same with Ombte) had charge of the Ethiopian and Lybian parts of the kingdom of Osiris, while Osiris. went abroad through the earth to benefit it with his gifts. Ante seems not to have been always in friendship with the house of Osiris, and was killed here by Hercules on behalf of Osiris; but he was worshipped here, near the spot where the wife and son of Osiris avenged his death on his murderer, Typho. The temple sacred to Antæ, (or, in the Greek, Antæus,) parts of which were standing thirty years ago, was a rather modern affair, having been built about the time of the destruction of the Colossus of Rhodes. Ptolemy Philopater built it; and he was the Egyptian monarch who sent presents and sympathy to Rhodes on occasion of the fall of the Colossus. Now nothing remains of the monuments but some heaps of stones; nothing whatever that can be seen from the river. The traveller can only look upon hamlets of modern Arabs, and speculate on the probability of vast "treasures hid in the sand." If I were to have the choice of a fairy gift, it should be like none of the many things I fixed upon in my childhood, in readiness for such an occasion. It should be for a great winnowing fan, such as would, without injury to human eyes and lungs, blow away the sand which buries the monuments of Egypt. What a scene would be laid open then! One statue and sarcophagus, brought from Memphis, was buried one hundred and thirty feet below the mound surface. Who knows but that the greater part of old Memphis, and of other glorious cities, lies almost unharmed under the sand? Who can say what armies of sphinxes, what sentinels of colossi, might start up on the banks of the river, or come forth from the hill sides of the interior, when the cloud of sand had been wafted away? The ruins which we now go to study might then appear occupying only eminences, while below might be ranges of pylons, miles of colonnade, temples intact, and gods and goddesses safe in their sanctuaries. What quays along the Nile, and the banks of forgotten canals! What terraces, and flights of wide shallow steps! What architectural stages might we not find for a thousand miles along the river, where now the orange sands lie so smooth and light as to show the track-the clear foot-print-of every beetle that comes out to bask in the sun! But it is better as it is. If we could once blow away the sand, to discover the temples and palaces, we should next want to rend the rocks, to lay open the tombs; and Heaven knows what this would set us wishing further. It is best as it is; for the time has not come for the full discovery of the treasures of Egypt. It is best as it is. The sand is a fine means of preservation; and the present inhabitants perpetuate enough of the names to serve |