a warmer lodging. It was not long before they discovered one.. This was the apartment of the young lady of the house.-Ah! here warm-here good-stay with mamsell. So saying, the reconnoitring party took a strong position against the cold in mamsell's room; thither all their baggage also was soon transported. Mamsell, unless she had chosen to turn Cossack too, was obliged to relinquish her a artment to her gallant guests, and to procure in another the climate that she had quitted.”

the servant was expressing his surprise at
this kind of observance of the word of a
prince, the Cossack came up, recognized the
illustrious horse-holder, and threw himself
at the feet of his colonel, who mildly said,
as he went away, Another time don't stay
so long.'

ورو

in the ice at the spot which he has chosen. He thrusts the largest of his hooks down to the mud of the river, which is sometimes fifteen or sixteen fathoms deep. The fish, roused from its torpor by another hook which the fisherman hoids in his left hand, strives to burrow deeper, and falls upon the The volume, after the general sketch from first hook, which the Cossack instantly pulls which we have taken these extracts, goes up upon the ice. It sometimes happers more into detail, and gives prints and des- that two neighbours catch the same fish, or criptions of the Don, Ural, Grebenski, Za- that they have need of assistance to draw up porogian, Baschkir, Kirguis, Teherkasses, the largest; in such cases they divide the "A servant-maid, groaning under the (Circassian) Cossacks, and the Nogay and booty. Some of them will catch ten sturweight of a large basket of damped linen, Mongols, who are more distinctly Tartarian.geons a day,several of which weigh as much as met a party of Cossacks. They took the A brief view of the history of each is fol- five puds (a pud is thirty-three pounds), and basket from her, convinced her by their ges-lowed by characteristic anecdotes, of recent belugas of above eight hundred pounds weight. tures that they intended no harm, and inti- | dates. Among these, the adventures of Others are so unfortunate as not to catch mated by signs to the poor girl, to show Alexander Zemlenutin,' in London, (whom any thing for several days; and perhaps do them which way she was going. They not many of our readers no doubt remember,) not take altogether sufficient to defray the only carried the basket to the mangle, but are conspicuons. The winter fishery of the expenses which their preparations for the helped to turn it for a whole hour; and, Ural tribes in Siberia is curious. fishery have occasioned, and which they often when they had done, desired nothing but a make upon credit. They never fail to askiss for their pains. cribe this ill luck to some spell that is set upon them, and if by accident a frog should be brought up by their hook, they immediately desist from fishing, convinced that some fatality would attend them."

66

'Before the opening of the four annual fisheries, tickets are given to the Cossacks "A Cossack, surrounded by a legion of registered for military service. The attaboys, whom he sometimes took by the hand, mans receive four, the starschines three, the and sometimes set a running by throwing other civil and military officers two, and his cap for them to bring back again, met a the private Cossacks one: but these ticklad selling cakes. He immediately laid an ets may be transferred or sold; so that embargo on the whole stock of the itinerant those who are discharged, and not upon the trader, which he divided among his merry register, who have not a right to fish, may companions, reserving for himself about a purchase that right for a year. The first of dozen cakes, which he put into the pockets these fisheries is the most important, the of his wide breeches. Whilst occupied in most productive, and the most curious, on housing them, he spied an elegant lady co-account of the severity of the season when ming towards him, but who was about to turn off to avoid the crowd of boys. The Cossack ran up to her, pulled the cakes three at a time out of his magazine, and offered them to the lady, half dead with fright. Mamsell, good !—Dobre, mamsell! said he, with a friendly smile. When, however, neither kind words nor gestures could prevail on mamsell to accept the cakes, he thrust them into her ridicule, and respectfully kissed her fair hands, in spite of all her endeavours to disengage them from his grasp. The lady made a precipitate retreat, and the Cossack watched as long as she was in sight with a look of concern.

find the annexed account.

JOURNAL OF THE BELLES LETTRES.

A second portrait of whate'er we see;
A second portraiture most easily
Confouaded with th' original! Thus thou

Bear'st on thy flexile countenance and free, Whatever impress other's cares there plough, And all their joys and griefs are pictur'd on thy brow.

dozens of them on the fire; takes them off rather those of style than of heart; | That 'tis so clear, that to its wave it draws when they are half broiled, and brings them rather of bad taste than of a corupt by armfuls to the table. With this ravenous mind. We may tire of his metaphysical refinements; but they are innoxious disposition, the Baschkirs find themselves rather straightened in winter: it is said that their condition during that season is truly in principle and effect. In short, we pitiable; that they look like spectres, and do look upon him to be a well-meannot begin to recover their flesh till spring."ing enthusiast-devoted to the highest Respecting the Tcherkassian language we imaginative delights, and possessed of far more inclination than power to grasp and enjoy them. Should this opinion, gathered from his writings, be correct, he is too amiable an individual to pro-Thus, like the stream I mention'd, whose guess'd voke angry remark; and we shall best consult our private feelings, and discharge our public duty, by confining ourselves to a few extracts from the volume now published.

nouns.

The work is prefaced by a "Dedicatory
Sonnet to Sophia," commencing thus-

Let it be never said, that I can bring
A tuneful trophy, and disloyally
To any one present it but to thee

Who doth inspire me;.................

"Besides the ordinary language, the Tcherkasses have two others, which they use in excursions, and keep secret. One of these is called the chakobché, and the other the furchipse. The first is a totally distinct language; the latter differs in no respect from the vulgar tongue, but in the addition of certain syllables, such as ré or fe to every word. In Tcherkassian, the ear, for instance, is tak houmah; in chakobché, bactan, and in farchipsé, tarimariquari: eye, in Teherkassian, is ne; in chakobché, paphle; in farchipsé, irinnari. The proper names of the Tcherkasses are almost all compound substantive Some of them are very curious: for instance, Keltchouqua, son of wool; Meiramaqua, son of Friday: Khammursa, prince but it should seem that poets (who deal in of dogs; Hadiaqua, little dog without tail. fiction) are, like liars, possessed of short presented" One remarkable circumstance is, that in the memories; for in the very next page, the Teherkassian language we meet with most of Desultory Thoughts, &c. are to another lady. We leave them to pull the Polovtzian words mentioned in the ancient history of Russia. For example, the caps about it, and quote the latter dedicaPolovtzian word Osaluk is undoubtedly the tory lines,' which display a prettiness of poname of Schaluk, belonging to a Teherkas-etical thought, though deformed by the fresian family which reigns over the tribe of quent bad measure, and affected or ridiculous Beslen; as Ouroussoba is the Ouroussby of terminations. Teherkasses, who denote by this terin a prince of the Russians. Many of the nobles speak the Tartar language, which is diffused not only over the Caucasus, but through the whole of Western Asia"

These extracts will serve to show that this volume is entertaining, and with them we take our leave of it.

Desultory Thoughts in London, Titus and Gisippus, with other Poems. By Charles Lloyd, author of Nuga Canoræ, &c. London, 1821. 12mo.

To whom, more suitably, can I present

6

Effusions, London, penn'd in thy deep haunt,
Who caus'd that, homeless, home's peculiar
Than to a friend there, the sole friend fate lent,

want

I should not feel-not so-that it should daunt
with sense of loneliness my pining spirit,

That I no more should have the will to chaunt
My simple lays? Yes, thou canst boast the
merit,
Though reft of Joy, that life did still some Hope

inherit.

And such as thee, on life's unsolac'd road;

'Tis a refreshing thing on thee to think,
Who from no one, though failing, e'er dost shrink
When call'd upon that aught might be be-
stow'd.

Except to the discerning eye of Heaven, 'Tis their augmented happiness alone, which bears an evidence thou movest on ; Without pretension so, with path so even, To thee to be progressive, it is given!

way,

The richer hues that round that way have
thriven,

So clear and calm it is, alone betray;
To all around thee, thou mute blessings dost

convey.

Three stanzas from the principal poem, will show to what excess of absurdity the worst branches of the Della Cruscan art can be carried by the newer votaries of nonsense verses, meaning nothing, and full of abstract words (if we may say so) instead of the higher foily of abstract ideas.

In all the world, in which we might not find
Something of lovely, and perhaps of rare,
Oh! had we eyes to see, what spot is there
T'amuse the various functions of the mind?
with such profusion of the good, and fair,

We need not say "we've gone" (or, like
moles, blind,
We well deserve cousignment to a warren)

"From Dan to Beersheba,and found all barren."
See, through yon avenue, that mourner stealing!
To him in friendship's tenderest relation
Once did I stand: he's smitten past all healing;
His wife, by him, without exaggeration,
Of woman-heartedness, and genuine feeling,
And generosity,―of any nation
With proofs most noble and affecting, vies:
At Portia's faith no more I feel surprise.
Of children, in conversible retirement;
They liv'd surrounded by a beauteous flock
But say the truth, if ever the requirement
O'th' Seasons' Poet form'd a household stock,
A competence had they, and not to Loch,
Love, friendship, leisure's fee arbitrement

Progressive virtue, and approving heaven."
Of occupation, they to them seem'd given—,

Like callow nestlings 'neath their mother's wing, Each peep'd from under the broad leaf's green veil,

When streams look'd blue; and thin clouds
clustering

O'er the wide empyrean did prevail,
Rising like incense from the breathing world,
Whose gracious aspect was with dew impearl'd.
When a soft moisture, steaming every where,
To the earth's countenance mellower hues im-
parted;

When silvan choristers self-pois'd in air,

Or perched on boughs, in shrilly quiverings

darted

Their little raptures forth; when the warm glare
(While glancing lights backwards and for-
wards started,

As if with meteors silver-sheath'd 'twere flooded)
Sultry, and silent, on the hill's turf brooded.

Oh, in these moments we such joy have felt,
As if the earth were nothing but a shrine;
Where all, or awe inspir'd, or made one melt
Gratefully towards its architect divine!
Father in future (as I once have dwelt
Within that very sanctuary of thine,
When shapes, and sounds, seem'd as but modes
of Thee!)

A timid female, arm'd with gospel faith ;-
A timid female, arm'd with gospel love;-
To haunts hath pierc'd, where, ne'er before
the path

To virtue dedicate, led one to move;
Not only hath confronted vice; (worst scath
God lays on man) but those whom crimes re-

move

From human pity, (healing Fate's last wound)
She to her heart with ties of love hath bound.
Thy" praise is not of men;" I know full well
That human lips' approval is to thee
(E'en though made potent by the daintiest spell
That art could cull from stores of flattery;
E'en though its tones like "blare" of trump
should swell)

But" sounding brass," and solemn mockery.
Yet as a soul is eas'd this boon to bear,
Accept: the human soul is thy first care.
Think what it must to those be, only wont

To hear the ribald song, or oath prophane;
What it must be for those who-vice made gaunt
By misery, in aspect most obscene,-
Were used to see; whom chilling scowls did
daunt,

Or laughing madness with her clanking chain;
To hear the truth persuasive inade by thee?

That with experience gain'd were heaven to me! In thee religion's real charm to see?

The fragrant honey-suckle's bowery maze?
The furze bush, with its vegetable gold?
In every satin sheath that helps to raise

The fox-glove's cone, the figures manifold
With such a dainty exquisiteness wrought?-
Nor grant that thoughtful love they all have
taught?

The daisy, cowslip, each have to them given-
The wood anemone, the strawberry wild,
Grass of Parnassus, meek as star of even; -

Bright as the brightening eye of smiling child,
And bathed in blue transparency of heaven,
Veronica; the primrose pale, and mild ;-
Of charms (of which to speak no tongue is able)

Intercommunion incommunicable!

The sweet and natural sentiments expressed in these lines far more than overbalance any defects in their construction. Our only other selection shall be a well-turned and well-deserved eulogy on a lady, who, acting, the part of a ministering angel on earth, is at once an honour to her sex, to her country, and to humanity.

The gospel promise is fulfill'd in thee,

The prisoner is set free; he that is bound
Hath felt deliverance: for the unity
Of comprehensive love hath now been crown'd
By this last test of gospel verity.

History of the Reign of George the Thi. completed to the Death of the K By R. Bisset. Supplemental volum 8vo.

The subjects which compose the present! lume, are the occurrences of the last 19 year, in the reign of George III; commend with the meeting of parliament in Octo 1801, and terminating with the death that sovereign, in 1820. It professes to be continuation of Dr. Bisset's History, witht established merits of which, the public an already sufficiently acquainted, and therefor they require from us no additional comme dation. From a work, the object of whit is to converge the rays of many years r the focus of a day's perusal, it would beyond our limits to allow of numerous end tracts;-its character as a literary perfor ance can alone be appreciated. That ba may be considered of universal interes which engages the attention of readers di the time comprehended by the continuati every description; and the events wit are more pregnant with important men randa than any equal period in the hister of our species. Within this space we hart had to lament the departure of emire: statesmen and accomplished orators. D ring this time there has been a generous deavour to diffuse the holy light of hac ledge, natural, civil, and religious, into the recesses where it had never penetrate with the confident expectation that its be might cheer the unlettered mass, and direct them to the paths of industry: that emer ing from the obscurity of ignorance, they might practise a more enlightened humanity forth,-be convinced that improvement was ca culated to ameliorate their condition, an be directed by those moral precepts and wis laws which have been founded on the basis the christian system. Time alone can ca ble us to reap the fruit of the seed that has been sown, for moral germs are of slo vegetation. The same period records a instance of towering and turbulent ambitior. rapid and monstrous in its growth, the swept monarchs from their thrones an enslaved the people: a grasp of power th converted volition into law, supported by swarms of legions, whose sanguinary aggres sions made a charnel house of Europe. Yet we have lived to see this insatiate usurp er despoiled of his trophies, vanquished by the illustrious hero of our own country, and deposited as an ignominious fixture, on an insulated rock.

For since from prison walls hath gone a sound
Through all the earth, that they who linger

there

Are call'd in Christ, thy chains are snapp'd,
Despair.

We know not better liberty than this,

E'en for the veriest freeman upon earth:
Refuse not then the uplifted rod to kiss ;-
And if, from it, the blooms of faith bud
The prisoner's manacle no longer is:

There are no barriers which this second birth
May not despise: they do but designate
Another way to an immortal state.
And had not heaven's hand been in this, could

one,

A gentle female, thus all prejudice ;-
All preconceptions; every hindrance thrown
To bar the way;-each proud hypothesis :-
And prouder sneers of those who've never known
The might of weakness" in a work like

this:

The wisdom of gown'd delegates countervail ?
And plant a paradise within a jail?

Need we set the name of Mrs. Fry in the
page
with this just tribute? it is unnecessary,
for the picture is peculiarly her own,
though her example has inspired and joined
resplendant works of love and charity.
to her many kindred female spirits in her
We shall not lengthen these observations.
The readers of the volume which has raised
them, will find it full of blemishes, yet in-
We would fain hope, for the future fame of the
terspersed with many admirable thoughts.
writer, that the faults spring from a mistaken
poetical creed, and may therefore cease
when that is abjured; while his better parts
flow from a benevolent and warm
position, and may therefore be improved
and perpetuated.

--" nostri est farrago libelli." These are the contents of the work he fore us. As the author of the continuation has modestly concealed his name, we cannot nor excite a blush by our commendation. inflict a pang by censuring his performance, The arrangement of the work is convenient and it is supplied with a copious index. The style is easy, accurate, and perspicuous, fancy; but throughout sustained with manly dis-never floating in the regions of metaphor and propriety of expression and undeviating co Feetness. Yet in these times it has a fault ·

1

Excursion.

It displays none of the restless spirit that business: the rapid progress of his disease, we are sensible, comparatively an humble animates party, but is fairly impartial a dropsy, baffled all the applications of me- one: promptitude, and fairness, are the quathroughout, leaning with as little bias as dical skill, and he expired on the 13th of lities by which we consider our notifications possible to what are called popular opinions. September, in the 57th year of his age. The most likely to be rendered really valuable When Mr. Pitt departs from this busy scene public regret for his loss subdued for a time to our readers. We do not pretend either the author puts on decent mourning; and he the conflicting prejudices of party, and a to dictate to the taste of the present age, does the same when Mr. Fox expires. To unanimous homage was paid to those great or to anticipate the judgment of posterity. those who only seek for a faithful record and and amiable qualities which won the cordial Exceptions, however, do occur, if they only interesting relation of events, the continu-affection of his friends, and the generous prove the existence of the general rule; and ation of Dr. Bisset will be a satisfactory admiration of his adversaries. As a sena- believing this to be one of them, we are manual. From its perfect candour and tor, he was distinguished alike for the com-induced to congratulate it's author and the the abundance of solid and useful infor- prehensiveness of his views, the liberality public on the appearance of The Excursion, mation it conveys, we recommend it to the of his principles, the persuasive and convin- in a form which may enable the lovers of notice of the intelligent reader. That the cing force of his eloquence; as a minister poetry to judge for themselves of it's meperuser of this continuation may be con- of state, he displayed in the management of rits. The result of that judgment we are vinced, that the sample of text does not public affairs the same noble simplicity which quite willing to commit to pure taste, and invalidate the favourable opinion we have characterised his conduct in private life; genuine feeling; but we should be equally given of the performance, we shall subjoin and he had sense and spirit to prefer the unjust to the author, and ourselves, did we such extracts as the limits of our journal will direct course of English plain dealing to the not express our belief, that if a faith at once permit. specious professions, the cautious wiles, the meek and sublime; a genius, at the same The character of Mr. Pitt is thus sketched: timid unworthy chicanery, the sinister reser- time pure, lofty, and ennobling; a philoso“The total failure of the continental coa-vations, and the over-reaching craft, which phy, equally comprehensive, and profound; lition greatly augmented the gloom and are but too commonly regarded as the per- be qualities likely to render the public decidisquietude which had begun to prevail infection of modern diplomacy. Though the sion favorable, the Excursion has nothing England in consequence of the alarming sincere advocate of peace, he uniformly de- to fear. It is a volume to which the lover of illness of Mr. Pitt. At the close of the for-precated the purchase of that blessing by nature may turn with delight, for its enmer session of parliament, this distinguished the slightest sacrifice of national honour, chanting pictures of scenery, and its pastatesman had been compelled, by the de- his firin adherence to the principles of the triarchal views of character; the admirer of cline of a constitution originally delicate, to constitution was no less conspicuous than poetry, for almost every better charm which relinquish all active share in public business, his zeal for the cause of liberty; and he vin his favorite science can exemplify; the phiand retire to Bath; from whence he return-dicated the rights of the people as the surest losopher, for the profoundness and majestic ed in the commencement of the year, in a basis of the strength and prosperity of his simplicity of many of its speculations; and state of debility and exhaustion, augmented country.” the christian, for the unaffected piety and by anxiety and disappointment. He exdevotional sublimity it so abundantly dispired on the 231 of January, in the 47th plays. year of his age, after having directed the The Octavo Edition of Wordsworth's affairs of this country for a longer period than any former minister. Under his auspices her maritime supremacy was confirmed by a series of most splendid victories; her colonial acquisitions were greatly extended; but her public burthens were enormously augmented. He laboured successfully to preserve her from the contagion of the revofutionary principles which desolated France, and exerted himself with equal zeal, but with less success, in resisting the military despotism by which that power threatened to subjugate the continent. As a financier, he displayed great ability in the accumulation of public resources; but it may be questioned whether he displayed great political wisdom in the distributiou of them. In forming continental alliances he relied Nothing can be more remote from our too implicitly on the influence of money for purpose, than any idea of entering into an ensuring to Great Britain that ascendancy elaborate critique on the poem now before in foreign courts to which by her generous us; for although from its hitherto limited aid she was entitled. But whatever may circulation, we might fill column after co-time on the continent; and of several of have been his errors, he is entitled to the lumn with extracts that would probably be praise of upright, of magnanimous inten-new to many of our readers, and must elicit tion; and in reviewing his unwearied exer- admiration from all; we are not sure that tions for the public service during a period we should be authorized to do this by a of unexampled difficulty, it may be truly work, which, in point of fact, has been alsaid, non sibi sed patriæ vixit." ready long known to the public by name; and which is now, we hope, likely to be universally read and duly appreciated. But we cannot consent to let the second edition of such a poem only have its appearance announced in the coinmon advertisements of the trade. This would indeed be a lasting disgrace to us as conductors of a Journal, claiming the proud appellation of a Literary Record. Our department in criticism is,

To match this portrait, Mr. Fox is thus delineated, and with the examples this article must be concluded.

"The period was now approaching at which the British nation was to be deprived of one of its brightest ornaments. Mr. Fox, who, on his accession to office, was labouring under indisposition, had been disabled during the summer from attending to publie

We do not usually conceive ourselves called upon to notice second editions of works; especially such as evince no variation from their predecessors, except in size and price. We must however claim the privilege of deviating from our accustomed mode in the

case of Wordsworth's Excursion. Indeed

a quarto, of the price of two guineas, is
likely only to be known by report to the
majority of readers of poetry; and the con-
sequence is, that though this beautiful poem
has been published, we believe, more than
six years, it has, from its size and cost,
been as inaccessible to numbers, whom its
contents would have delighted, as if it had
continued in manuscript.

THE DELPHIN CLASSICS, NOS. XXI & XXII.

These two Numbers of this noble work

have so recently appeared, that we have only been able to give them a cursory examination. They contain the history of Tacitus, lib. iv and v, his Germania, Vita Agricolæ, and De Oratoribus, with copious Notæ Vari

orum.

expect from what have preceded, seem to us to These parts, as we had reason to sustain the high reputation of this edition of the classics. In candour and truth we have back but with satisfaction at having subno fault to find with them, nor can we look scribed to a production which will form a very complete classical library for generations to come; afford us great present pleasure; and be esteemed a meritorious example of British literary enterprize. We trust Mr. Valpy will look diligently to obtaining copies of the numerous portions of ancient writers which are being recovered at this

which the Literary Gazette has had specimens as well as notices: all these should be incorporated with the Delphin.

BELZONI ON NUBIA AND EGYPT.

(Second Journey—Continued.) Returned from Ybsambul to his old quarters at Luxor, Belzoni found the mummy grounds at Gournou occupied by two French agents, and was thus luckily forced to turn his researches to the valley of Beban el Malook, which is completely separated from Gournou by the chain of mountains that divides Thebes from the ralley. Here the experience he

had acquired in ascertaining the sites of tombs was of eminent service.* He soon observed a spot which presented the appear ance of a tomb; exeated, and discovered first, the rock cut into a pastage leading downward, and next a wall. In this wall he battered a breach, and his account thus proceeds.

"We entered, and found ourselves on a staircase, eight feet wide and ten feet high, at the bottom of which were four mummies in their cases, lying flat on the ground, with their heads toward the outside. Farther on were four more, lying in the same direction. The cases were all painted, and one had a large covering thrown over it, exactly like the pall upon the coffins of the present day.

of Egypt, and divides itself into two principal | go no further, the tomb was so much branches, one of which runs two miles farther | choked up with large stones, which they could to the westward, making five miles from the not get out of the passage. I descended, Nile to the extremity. The other, which examined the place, pointed out to them contains most of the tombs, is separated from where they might dig, and in an hour there Gournou only by a high chain of rocks, was room enough for me to enter through a which can be crossed from Thebes in less passage that the earth had left under the than an hour. The same rocks surround the ceiling of the first corridor, which is thirtysacred ground, which can be visited only by six feet two inches long, and eight feet eight a single natural entrance, that is formed like inches wide, and, when cleared of the ruins, a gateway, or by the craggy paths across the six feet nine inches high. I perceived immountains. The tombs are all cut out of the mediately by the painting on the ceiling, and solid rock, which is of hard calcarcous stone, by the hieroglyphics in basso relievo, which as white as it is possible for a stone to be. were to be seen where the earth did not reach, The tombs in general consist of a long square that this was the entrance into a large and passage, which leads to a staircase, some-magnificent tomb. At the end of this cortines with a gallery at each side of it, and ridor I came to a staircase twenty-three feet I went through the operation of examin- other chambers. Advancing farther we come long, and of the same breadth as the corridor. ing all these mummies one by one. They to wider apartments, and other passages and The door at the bottom is twelve feet high. were much alike in their foldings, except that stairs, and at last into a large hall, where the From the foot of the staircase I entered anwhich had the painted linen over it. Among great sarcophagus lay, containing the re- other corridor, thirty-seven feet three inches the others I found one, that had new linen,mains of the kings. Some of these tombs long, and of the same width and height as apparently, put over the old rags; which are quite open, and others incumbered with the other, each side sculptured with hieroproves, that the Egyptians took great care of rubbish at the entrance. Nine or ten may glyphics in basso relievo, and painted. The their dead, even for many years after their be reckoned of a superior class, and five or ceiling also is finely painted, and in pretty good decease. That which was distinguished from six of a lower order." preservation." At the end of this passage all the rest, I observed was dressed in finer After commenting on Strabo, and describ-à large pit intercepted further progress: linen, and more neatly wrapped up. It had ing some discoveries of less interest, we have "This pit is thirty feet deep, and fourteen garlands of flowers and leaves, and on the the following account of a remarkable se- fect by twelve feet three inches wide. The side over the heart I found a plate of the pulchre :— upper part of the pit is adorned with figures, anetal which I have already described, soft Proceeding through a passage thirty-two from the wall of the passage up to the ceiling. like lead, covered with another metal, not feet long and eight feet wide, and descending The passages from the entrance all the way unlike silver leaf. It had the eyes of a cow, by a staircase of twenty-eight feet, we reached to this pit have an inclination downward of which so often represents Isis, engraved on a tolerably large and well-painted room. an angle of eighteen degrees. On the oppoit; and in the centre of the breast was ano- The ceiling was in good preservation, but site side of the pit facing the entrance I perther plate, with the winged globe. Both not in the best style. We found a sarco-ceived a small aperture two feet wide and plates were nearly six inches long. On un-phagus of granite, with two mummies in it, two feet six inches high, and at the bottom folding the linen, we still found it very fine, and in a corner a statue standing erect, six of the wall a quantity of rubbish. A rope which was not the case with the other mum- feet six inches high, and beautifully cut out fastened to a piece of wood that was laid mies; for after three or four foldings, it was out of sycamore-wood: it is nearly perfect across the passage against the projections generally of a coarser kind. At last we came except the nose. We found also a number which form a kind of door, appears to have to the body, of which nothing was to be seen of little images of wood, well carved, repre-been used by the ancients for descending but the bones, which had assumed a yellow senting symbolical figures. Some had a into the pit; and from the small aperture tint. The case was in part painted; but the lion's head, others a fox's, others a monkey's. on the opposite side hung another, which Haen cloth covering it fell to pieces as soon One had a land-tortoise instead of a head. | as it was touched, I believe owing to the We found a calf with the head of a hippopopaint that was on it, which consisted of va- tamus. At each side of this chamber is a rious devices and flowers. The cases were smaller one, eight feet wide, and seven feet sunk four inches into the cement I have al- long; and at the end of it is another chumready mentioned." ber, ten feet long by seven wide. In the chamber on our right hand we found another statue like the first, but not perfect. No doubt they had been placed one on each side of the sarcophagus, holding a lamp or some offering in their hands, one hand being stretched out in the proper posture for this, and the other hanging down. The sarcophagus was covered with hieroglyphics,

"The result of my researches gave me all the satisfaction I could desire, of finding mummies in cases, in their original position: but this was not the principal object I had in view; for, as I was near the place where the kings of Egypt were buried, I thought I might have a chance of discovering some of their relics.

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reached the bottom, no doubt for the purpose of ascending. We could clearly perceive, that the water which entered the passages from the torrents of rain ran into this pit, and the wood and rope fastened to it crumbled to dust on touching them. At the bot tom of the pit were several pieces of wood, placed against the side of it, so as to assist the person who was to ascend by the rope into the aperture."

Belzoni proposes to make a model of this superb excavation, for exhibition in England. Immediately within the entrance into the first passage, on the left hand, are two figures

The sacred valley, named Beban el Ma-nerely painted or outlined; it faces south-as large as life, one of which appears to be look, begins at Gournou, runs towards the southwest, and gradually turns due south. It contains the celebrated tombs of the kings