their flocks, while the neighbouring city was pouring forth its thousands to their daily tasks. and proceeded in my attempt to force a passage. Whilst in the act of giving a tremendous blow on the "Having provided ourselves with stone, the agitation of the air exlights and the usual accompaniments tinguished my light, but the blow of explores, we entered the largest was not lost, for it fell and exepyramid at the usual place, and I cuted its object by making a breach proceeded on my search. The ap- in the barrier that had opposed my pearance of the first chamber was progress. As I was provided with solitary and desolate, being filled phospherous, I did not feel any chiefly with rubbish and remains of alarm for the loss of my light, but mummies, to which the barbarism of proceeded to feel what effect had the natives and the curiosity of travel- been produced on the wall. I found a lers had been equally destructive. large aperture, sufficient to admit Several small avenues lead out of me through, and on introducing this apartment, one of which opens my head, I saw, or thought I saw into another, which had been open- a light shining through a crevice ed and the usual ravages had taken at the further end of the apartment. place. I discovered nothing but Astonished at what I thought must the remains of an alabaster sarco- be an illusion of the sense, I besiphagus and some bones, which I tated to kindle my own light, and afterwards found to be those of an cautiously entered the newly opened ox or a cow. The day was nearly chamber. I found I trod on a fine spent in such researches, and the surface, and on walking across it, Arabs, who had never liked the un- applied my eye to what I plainly saw dertaking, began to grow unruly. to be an opening in a loosely built The fear of the 'Ghout,' who partition, which, as I leaned against, watched over the treasures they sup. suddenly gave way, and I found myposed I searched for, at length grew self the spectator of a singular scene. to such a height that they would In an ancient and large chamber, 'stay no longer, and they left my ser- on a couch of stone I saw reclining vant and myself to prosecute our the figure of a man, seemingly aged discoveries by ourselves. In truth, though still vigorous, his long beard they could not have left me at aa sable silvered,' fell in large and more inconvenient period, for I had ample curls upon his breast and arms, observed some signs, which justified and added to the effect of his counme in supposing, that I was near a tenance, which was strongly indented large and unopened chamber. It with deep furrows, that appeared was at the end of a dark passage, to be produced more by sorrow than near the mouth of one of those wells by age. From the ceiling was suswith which the place abounds, which pended an iron lamp of an ancient diffused a most noxious vapour, and form, by the light of which I was enit was only my ardent desire for abled to remark the above particulars, 'discovery, that could have induced and as its wavering flame flashed on me to continue the operations I had the face of the singular being before commenced. My torches also were me, it added to its deathly lue; indeed, nearly all consumed, and I was I should not have thought him to be obliged to send my servant for a alive, had not the deep respiration further supply. While he was gone of his chest convinced me of the I proceeded to introduce an iron contrary. The appearance of the crow in the instertices of the stone, apartment assimilated well with its for the purpose of wrenching an en- inmate; around the walls were setrance, but the strength of the build- veral rows of mummies, some in a ing opposed my efforts, and I sat standing position with their faces down dispirited on a block of stone uncovered, and the lip being fallen, near the before-mentioned well. gave them the appearance of grinHere, in a short time, I began to feel ning horribly at each other. I adthe influence of its pestilential air, vanced a step from the place where, my head grew giddy, and I should fixed with astonishment, I had markhave fallen from my seat, had I noted the above in far less time than it by a great exertion, roused myself, has taken to recite them; on a nearer then alone can, I join those who view I found that he was clad in us both; thou wilt die, but I must servant, who said, after a long search he discovered me near the spot he had left me. The next day I could discover no traces of the breach in the wall; I knocked but could make no impression; and on relating to my servant what I had seen, he said, I had been in a trance, but I can never consider it such," ON THE DEATH OF A FRIEND. And every murmuring breeze, There was a youth of gentle heart, Whose suavity of man, Drew silvery note from Friendship's lyre, And sighs from maid of sheen. His was a look intelligent, Illumed with tuneful word, An eye that beamed, a mind that soared Above the vulgar herd, The flower but oped its petal bed, The richer tent concealed, The red wing of the storm empowered The sweets not half revealed. Now cold beneath the marbled slab, Wrapped darkley in eternal night, A friend stands near, who knew the heart, The deep recess of soul. And mind, who ne'er betrayed, but loved The warmth beyond control, The peasant stops on Sabbath eve, Lost in the rudest thought; The reverence he ought, Time with unerring hand will soon The pride of wealth, ambition's sway, That brings the despot's power within THE NEW YEAR. "We take no note of time but by its loss." To Is the New-Year an era of promise, or season for regrets? Shall fancy weave for us the votive wreath, or shall pensive memory crown the tomb of departed days with the mournful cypress? That must greatly depend upon those on whom the first day of a commencing circle of months shall dawn. youth an added year points at the pinnacle (however uncertain its attainment) of maturity, and to the plenitude of enjoyment, however pleasures visions may fade away from the feverish touch of fruition,-to old age, the departed year sinks like the fallen grain of sand in the hour-glass, and leaves a void behind it, to the children of freedom, the roll of time offers improvement and happiness,-to the captive or the slave, another year seems like one link of his chains knocked off, but his ignorance as to the precise duration of that bondage, offers little but melancholy; his courage has no given bound of exertion to keep in view, his heart and hope have no sure land-mark to steer for; the saint and sage can, and they alone can, fix that resting place, where the sun scorches not the bondsman, and where the tear of sorrow was never known. But we will suppose, and hope at the same time, that all our readers have no severe regrets to look back to in the last, and that they have many hopes in bright promise for the ensuing year,and that they may be realised, is our most ardent wish. Let us now enter into, and compare the national and local customs of the season with those of other times, as well as the usages and discussions of the olden times, with the remaining observances and merry-makings of our more refined and modern age; and (since the taste for travelling is daily increasing), we will take our first stand with our neighbours on the other side of the water. Le jour de l'an, in France and in more southern countries, is a day of great bustle and jubilation, of much gladness and festivity, closely interwoven with moral habits and re ligious duties. The enemies of these nations may deem this statement too flattering, but truth, like justice, is blind to prejudice alone, and teaches us to treat "Tros Tyrinsue nullo discrimine." The press of business-like pleasure and hospitality consists in the hasty exchange of complimentary visits, (performed by proxy by the great sending their cards and empty carriages about) and the not empty congratulations paid personally to age, to consanguinity, to patrons, and to friends; in the toys and newyear's gifts flying through the streets; and in the devices of affection, gallantry, wit, and flattery, in metre and in prose, which puzzle many a brain and greet many a bright eye, accompanied by bouquets which are welcome even from the humblest hands. The moral and religious duties consist (and they are everywhere worthy of imitation) in the forgiveness of injuries, the cementing of breaches by embracing friends and former foes, and by reconciling and inviting alienated love and sentiment, by the long absent name on the card, or the warmly expressed wish for "many happy years!" Frigid must be that bosom, and forbidding that eye, which can treat and contemplate such customs with indifference; and in the hastening to the temples of the Most High as early as possible, thus to make the first action of the day and year a religious one, and to pour forth the fervid orison for self and those held dear, with a grateful sense for the favour of added days. These dues and duties cost pride some exertion, and selflove a manly struggle, and they are, on this account, the more valuable. The feast, the ball, and the theatre finish the scene; it is not impossible that in all this pressing of bosom. friends and congratulations, a Judas's kiss may now and then occur, but let us look at the brightest side of the picture and leave it there. Hail, Britannia! land of liberty, how fares it with thee in these piping times, or rather, how fared it with thee in the days of yore? If sincerity seek for the merry Christmas and happy New Year, she must not tarry in drawing-room circles, and in mercantile capitals,-she must throw off pomp and parade, and travel modestly to the country, there to mix with the people in the rural gambols, quaint usages, and broad mirth of Christmas-tide. She must, if she be a true British spirit, forego the foreign gastronomic attractions of the kitchen, and feast upon plain, wholesome, old English fare; barter the juice of the Rhone, the Rhine, and the Moselle, for the flowing bowl, nor disdain to pledge Ralph and Molly in nut-brown ale; she must draw nearer to her brothers and sisters, and let the clothing, feeding, and comforting of the poor, make them feel that they form a component part in the family of man. In our forefathers' times, Christmas was kept up with more extensive hospitality than in our more modish days; the Knight and the Squire would then (in full-bottomed wigs, roomy coats, and gold laced hats) invite all the neighbourhood to their board, groaning under substantial fare; turkies and sides of bacon would face each other on tables of huge magnitude; boars' heads with oranges in the mouths thereof, and barons of beef would stand in proud array. The hungry were invited to the lodge, castle, or hall; whilst hogsheads and barrels were tapped for rich and poor, neigh bour and friend, for visitor, and for the stranger journeying through the land of plenty. The Lord of the Manor would sally out in his coach and six to visit his tenantry, and the Lady Bountiful of the domain would condescend to lead down the dance, composed of humble followers and poor relations. How vulgar is this picture in the eyes of new-fangled gentry, and the imitating scholars of the new school. In Scotland antique practices are still adhered to, people sit up jovially to drink out the old, and drink in the New Year; and the toast is so often pledged that it sometimes begins gravely, by "here's a guid new year t' you,"-" or many happy years to you;" it next comes to, (more briefly and familiarly)" happy new years to you," through loud clamour and mirth, then is heard "years to you," the first words being drowned in joy, and the articulation being so thick as to resemble ears to you, a nod and a shake of the hand now announces in spiritedly accents, "here's to you," and if, to you," or "you" be heard at last, it is a wonder. Whilst this is going on within doors, lads are running about in the streets with kot pint, and applying it and a coarse hearty salute to the first adventurous female who trusts her person at the midnight, on the brigs (bridges) and other parts of the town, the men shaking hands together and mutually wishing "a guid new year" to each other; but the dandies of British extraction, (we do not like to callaught of spurious growth by the name of fair,) and your would-bes' something very great and imposing, quit town for fashion's sake, but keep no holidays at all; the season is a bore to them, and the only plan which they can hit on to seem somebody, is to be gazetted out of London, and to be supposed to be at something abbey or lordly house, on their own estates, which either never existed, or which folly and extravagance has already mortgaged and let, or first annuitised into decay, and lastly sold out and out. This being out of town has greatly damped the Christmas and New Year's jovialities in the metropolis, without removing the scene to the market-town and hamlet, to the family mansion and cottage; and has in general produced a diminished feeling about the sacred season, either taken in a religious, a national, or a hospitable point of view. Some of the aristocracy of the country, the patricians of ancient date, make a point or a favour of being at one of their principle estates; where their parks and their preserves yield the produce of the old English larder, but the coaches and six, the genuine wigs, the broad mirth and open houses have been placed for the most part upon the reduced or retired list, whilst modest relations and the poor of the parish have to complain, either of |