The morning after we left Edfou found us moored opposite the modern El-Kab, the ancient Eileithinas. There are no Copts here to engage our attention, but an incident took place which may be related on account of the illustration it affords respecting the common superstitions which bind together the Christian and the Moslem. A most filthy, wild, and repulsive-looking man visited our boat. His unturbaned head (most of his class dispense with their turbans) was covered with a mass of clotted and unkempt hair, which stood out in matted dog-tails on all sides. His features were those of the Tithonian monster on a small scale. He was a welee, or Mohammedan saint. Profound respect was paid to him by the sailors and servants. Among the former was one Ibrahim, the only Coptic Christian on board, and I was surprised to find him as forward as the rest in doing deference to the loathsome creature. Ibrahim had a sprained wrist, which he loosened from its bandages, and held out to the "saint," for him to take pity on and cure. The "saint" was kind enough to spit upon it, and Ibrahim, with many thanks, bound up his wrist again, and waited for the results.

With regard to this man Ibrahim, it may be observed that he showed no sign whatever of being a Christian beyond having a cross tattooed upon his arm. Poor fellow though professing so little, yet he suffered for his faith. One morning we were aroused by a loud quarrel between the captain, the cook, and a sailor. On inquiry, Hassan told us, "Dam' rascal stole my shacoals!" It appeared that some 20 lbs. of charcoal had been pilfered, and all the Moslems swore that the Christian was the thief, the Christian protesting that they were equally guilty with himself. The fact was, Ibrahim had been made cat's-paw to the monkey, and the Moslems were glad of an excuse to rid themselves of the dog of a Christian. Hassan turned him off instantly, declaring that no property was safe with such a fellow on board, and sagaciously remarking, "He who has stolen the eggs will steal the mother of the eggs." However, in Ibrahim we lost the hardest working and best tempered fellow on board, whose place we were never able adequately to supply; while he, owing to the scarcity of "hands" occasioned by the immense draught of labourers for M. Lesseps's canal, obtained immediate employment on board a Turkish dahabiah.

to "

note that the suggestion given in Murray's list of "points requiring examination," copy inscription of 79 columns," is impracticable; for after carefully and repeatedly counting them I can only make the number up to 62, and this agrees with the plan given of it in Sharpe's "History of Egypt," vol. i., p. 381.

TEARS.

BY SARAH DOUDNEY.

"And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.”—Rev. xxi. 4.

THERE are some whose tears are ready;

There be some who cannot weep;
But with faces calm and steady,

All their keenest sorrows keep.
These-like April clouds soon breaking
Into brief and sudden rain:
Those-like frozen rivers fettered

By the winter's binding chain.

And the tears set soon aflowing
May as easily be dried,

But some hearts would break in knowing

All the woe of tears denied.

Did not He of tender pity,

Who to aid us oft appears,

Touch the rock and bring the waters ?
For He knows our need of tears.

Yes, He knoweth ! and the blessing
That our souls have often kept-
With life's burdens sorely pressing,-
Was the brief text, "Jesus wept."
For we hear not that the angels

Shed one tear for mortal woe;
But the Saviour took our nature
And our sufferings here below.

When the city lay before Him,

With its sun-touched towers so fair;
When the people's shouts rose o'er Him,
And "hosannas" rent the air;
Saw He not its bright domes glimmer,
Through the mist of tears all dim?
Wept He not in His compassion,

That they would not come to Him?

There be tears too often wasted,

In the early days of youth,

For the wine that palls when tasted;
For the love that has no truth;
For the dreams that passion nurtures
In the restless brain and heart,
Till the stern cold hand of reason
Bids the dreams and dreamer part.

There be tears-more sad than any-
For the good that might have been ;
For the squandered moments many;
For the grain we did not glean;
When we idled in the corn-fields,
Singing songs till set of sun,
Till the last, last sheaf was gathered,
And the harvest-time was done.

There be tears for human blindness;
For the errors of our life;
That have made our love unkindness,
And have turned our peace to strife.
When we weep o'er self-forged fetters,
That our hands can ne'er undo;
Chafing madly at the barriers,

Which may not be broken through.

We are longing,—ever yearning,

For the time when Thou wilt come

Yet again, a King returning

Here, to call Thy faithful home. When Thou comest in Thy glory,

To begin the world's new day; And the tears from off all faces

Thy dear Hand shall wipe away.