of which they stand so much in need towards the end of their career; and above all that spiritual succour which prepares their souls to meet their God.

Several towns eagerly desire the foundation of a house of refuge

for their aged and infirm poor; but Sisters are wanting, and we must wait until God is pleased to inspire other devoted hearts with the desire of consecrating themselves to this charitable work.

BERNARD GILPIN. Died March 4, 1583, aged 66. A copy made in 1629, by William Freake, Minister, from the original by George Carleton, Bishop of Chichester.

"Upon a time as he was returning home upon a journey, there was a certaine husbandman at plow, in whose teame of horses one upon a sodaine fell downe, whether with being overwrought or upon some disease it is uncertaine. The husbandman and those who were with him did their best to raise the horse againe, with all the strength they had: but it was in vaine, for the horse was dead. Mr. Gilpin passing by accidentally, stayed to observe the issue of the matter; and perceiving that the horse could not be raised againe, and that the husbandman was exceedingly grieved for the death of his beast, and that he cried out he was even undone by that miserable accident, he commanded his man to alight from the horse he had under him, and patiently to carry the saddle and bridle to the next towne, and to give

to the poore man the horse whereon he rode. The husbandman thereupon cried out, "Alas, sir, I am not able to pay you the price of so good an horse.". "Be of good cheare," (saith Mr. Gilpin)" thou shalt never pay me for him till I demand it; in the meanwhile goe on with thy worke."-Yea, and many a time as he travailed was he accustomed thus to

help poore men. When at any time he chanced to meete any naked poore, he would put off part of his apparell to cover their nakednesse ; and at his table usually fed many poore persons."

the grown poor people, that he feared little good was to be done upon them but, said he would try whether he could not lay a foundation, to make the next generation better. And this put him upon

setting up many schools in all the great towns of his diocese for the poor children to be taught to read, and say their catechism; and about this time, and for this purpose it was, that he wrote and published his Exposition of the Church Catechism. By this method and management, he engaged the ministers to be more careful in catechizing the children of their parishes; and they were by him furnished with a stock of the necessary books for the use of children. we may now judge by the great and good success of the charity schools, what great and good ends he at that time proposed."

And

No song so full of melody,
No sound so welcome to the ear,
No thought so deep in harmony,

As Jesus, Son of God, most dear. Jesu, of penitents the stay;

To all that ask how passing kind! How good to them that seek the way, But what, Oh, what to them that find!

Jesu, of Hearts the Sweetness true,

Of Life the Fount, of Souls the Light, More than our every yearning knew, Our every joy transcending quite.

No tongue can tell, nor heart conceive, Nor pen of readiest writer prove, Experience only can believe,

What 'tis to live in Jesus' love. For Jesus on my bed I'll look,

Clos'd on my heart its chamber-door, Each peopled haunt, each lonely nook For Him with eager love explore.

INTENTION AND ACTION.

"Don't mind much what a man does, but what view he has in the action. Suppose a pilot steer his ship well, but don't know where he is going, what will it profit him to hold the helm, dexterously to steer, to avoid the most dangerous billows of the sea? The more skill and strength he has to govern the vessel, the more danger he runs by not following any certain road; he goes out of his course, he hastens to be shipwrecked the faster he sails : 'Tis the same in him who goes towards perfection, and that too with great speed, but goes out of the way."-St. Augustine.

DIVISIONS IN RELIGION.

Though we weigh never so exactly, we may miss grains or scruples; but to snatch greedily at the little overrunning dust of the balance, and to throw away the massive ingots that weigh the scales down, is the greatest folly in the world.-Taylor.

ON Saturday morning the 1st. of December 1849, I came in sight, for the first time, of the coast of Egypt. I had long looked forward to visiting the lands of faith, associated by our religious instructions with the earliest impressions of our childhood; and now I beheld the soil of Egypt; the Egypt of Joseph's greatness, of Moses's miracles, and, above all, of our Blessed Lord's infantine banishment. In those low flat coasts, with windmills alone to enliven their monotony, I beheld the land of Egypt. In an hour or two after that first view, I found myself entering the harbour of Alexandria. There is nothing picturesque or remarkable in the view of Alexandria from the sea. Its buildings rise too little above the level of the water to present any striking features. My eye was attracted, however, by the singularity of the Arab villages, skirting the entrance to the harbour, and composed of clusters of low mud huts with no other opening for light and air than a single doorway, and, apparently, more fitted for the residence of animals than of men.

No sooner had we anchored in the harbour than our steamer was hemmed in with boats containing a strange assemblage of Arabs and Franks, and men in a mingled costume. The scene on landing is very novel, and I was confused at finding myself suddenly transplanted from the comforts of the French steamer, among camels with greasy skins and filthy trappings, crowds of turbaned men with white or coloured garments and naked legs, boys of brownest hue, and women

veiled or wrapped in huge white bundles. In the men's faces there were shades of darkness from brown to black, and at first I imagined there was a fierceness in their look, an impression not warranted by my subsequent acquaintance with the people of Egypt.

Among the sights of Alexandria, are Pompey's Pillar, and Cleopatra's Needles; the former, a gigantic granite column bearing a Corinthian capital, and, in its stately isolation, recalling the past grandeur of the Ptolemaic city; the latter, two obelisks removed in Greek or Roman times from Heliopolis, which, long centuries ere Greece and Rome were peopled, was a metropolis of art and learning.

But in Alexandria there is too much of European admixture to warrant its being taken as a fair specimen of an Oriental city. The journey from thence to Cairo, I pursued in the usual way, by steamer. The first ten hours are spent on the Mahmoudick canal, a canal which connects Alexandria with the Nile. The lands on either side of this canal are flat and marshy, but occasionally enlivened with large flights of birds, and wandering Flamingos, and Ibises seen stalking over the mud.

Towards seven o'clock in the evening we reached the great River of Egypt, at Atfeh, and there left our small vessel for a larger steamer. It was dark, and I could see little, either of the town of Atfeh or the broad Nile; but at night the moon shone brightly and I stood on deck to enjoy the scene of those smoothflowing, sandy-coloured waters with their numerous little eddying whirl

Pools, and their glassy surface, reflecting the latine sails of the boats, floating here and there upon them, as well as the palm-trees skirting their banks. It was like a dream to be gazing by moonlight on that Old Nile, that river teeming in associations of the childhood of the world, and linked with the impressions of our own childhood too, when we first heard of the prophet's cradle floating on its surface, or of its sandy-coloured wave being changed to crimson blood.

At an early hour in the morning, we caught the first sight of the Pyramids. They were far away to the south west, and rendered somewhat indistinct by the haziness of the atmosphere. Three hours after first seeing them we reached Boulak, the port of Cairo, whose citadel and minarets I had noticed for some time.

Whatever may be stated of the effect of European innovations on the appearance of Alexandria, the same can never be said of Grand Cairo. The peculiar effect of its bazaars and streets is indescribable. Much as I had heard of the extreme narrowness of the latter, I was quite unprepared for what I saw when, first mounted upon a donkey (the usual conveyance in Cairo), I was hurried through the narrowest alleys I had ever traversed, and, through my want of skill in guiding the donkey, which another was urging forward, was bumped against the various foot-passengers and others whom I met. The most pleasing scene, however, is that of the bazaars, which are streets like the rest, but roofed over and occasionally closed, with huge gates, at night. Along these are rows of arched recesses, used as shops and stored with wares. In front of each of these recesses or stalls is a raised platform or dewàn, on which the merchant sits smoking

a chibouque, or sometimes, reading the Kuran, or counting beads, at each of which he pronounces the name of Allah. In these bazaars are exposed all manner of wares, from Persian silks to Manchester cottons. There are whole streets of shoes and slippers of red and yellow leather. Pipe bowls and cherry sticks occupy an important place in the Cairene bazaars, and shops for tarbooshes, carpets, and all kinds of eatables. Indeed there is almost every luxury to be found but books. Books are not among the requirements of Eastern life.

There is much, of all periods of the world's history, to be seen in the neighbourhood of Cairo. The earliest monuments on earth lie on the western side of the Nile; while, on the borders of the eastern desert, are the tombs of the early champions of the Arabian creedwhen the hosts of Islam reposed beneath the laurels of their first rapid conquests.

Among the most interesting excursions from Cairo is the ride to Heliopolis, -the antient ON, the daughter of whose Priest, Joseph married. ON was the great seat o learning of the Old Egyptians. Herodotus spake of the Heliopolitans being considered the most learned of the Egyptians, and their Temple of the Sun was emblematical of the light of knowledge which they worshipped. In the company of two others I left Cairo ; mounted, as usual, on a donkey, and passing out of the City by the Bab ei Nusr-the finest of the antient gateways of the townvisited the slave-market, which was nothing more than the courtyard of a large dilapidated and filthy-looking house. The building surrounding the yard much resembled an old English hostelry, having tiers of galleries running round the walls, and communicating with the