by a sojourn with him of seventeen days; yet the delay afforded, I believe, a less trial to his patience than to my own. I had en

gaged a passage in a Turkish brig, bound to Jaffa, to which port she was announced ready to sail at the time when I reached Damiat, Day after day, however, my heart grew sick with hope deferred. Frequently, in the midst of the night, I awoke and, from the stillness which reigned around, fancied that the calm necessary to permit the cargo of the vessel to be transported across the bar at the mouth of the Nile had at length arrived. The sighing and moaning of the wind is rather a melancholy accompaniment to thought in most situations, but never did I feel it so much so, even on a dark night at sea, as when, after a temporary deceitful lull, a low distant sound arose on my ear, gradually becoming nearer and louder, till it increased to a roar, drowning all my expectations of embarking on the morrow.

I went one day to look for the Greek Chapel at Damiat. It is a room of a large building, in exploring the long passages of which, on turning a corner quickly, I met two lovely Greek children. The eldest, about twelve years of age,-in a festal dress, her long flowing hair decked with flowers and gold coins, her beauty of that radiant half-transparent kind scarcely known but to eastern climes,-sprung back at first, but in

a moment advanced to me with her hand extended. The action was inexpressibly charming. It was the greeting, the mute recognition, which said, plainer than any words, "We Christians are of one family.

At length, on Wednesday, the 11th of April, the bar was pronounced passable, and the embarkation of cargo and passengers commenced, in "jerms," a kind of launches. My fellow-passengers consisted of more than fifty pilgrims, of various nations, on their way to keep Easter at Jerusalem. Many of them had never seen the sea before, and, overcome with terror and sea-sickness, were drawn by ropes from the boats to the deck of the brig, on which they lay strewn like lifeless bodies, or bundles of old rags. After a night unpleasantly passed in tossing at anchor, on Thursday morning, the 12th of April, to my great delight, we started with. a favouring breeze:

"A glad farewell I gave

To Egypt, and before the southern wind
Spread my full sails."

THE END.

R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL.