all sides by meaner but yet ancient sepulchres. The entrance to the great Pyramid was closed and lost sight of, but long since a passage was forced into it to find out what it contained. In modern times the real entrance has been discovered, and enterprising visitors explore its dark recesses. They find that all this mighty accumulation was destined to receive the coffined remains of a king and his queen, who fondly hoped to remain for ever undisturbed.

The materials of which the great Pyramid is constructed have many of them been brought from a considerable distance. Herodotus says that Cheops employed upon the work 100,000 men at a time, and that they were relieved every three months. Ten years were given to the formation of a way for the conveyance of the stones. Twenty years were devoted to the erection of the Pyramid itself. Two hundred thousand pounds were expended upon onions, garlic, and the like for the labourers, and an untold sum upon iron tools and whatever else was required. From first to last the work was carried on under the most grinding and hateful tyranny and oppression, so that the king who commanded it left a name which was execrated by later ages. It is a monument, not only of unbounded pride and ambition, but of terrible cruelty and untold suffering. And yet we are told that the monster Cheops reigned for fifty years, and that his successor, who erected the second Pyramid, continued the same practices for fifty-six years longer. The third Pyramid was built under similar circumstances. Such was the folly and heartlessness of Pagan kings, even in those far-off times.

If the traveller is agile, he may climb up the rough surface of the great Pyramid to the top, and he will be rewarded by a magnificent prospect. During the inundation of the Nile, he will see the wide expanse of water which covers the plain; at other times the canals winding through the plain. In the distance the minarets and citadel of Cairo are visible, the Mokuttum hills, and Masarah quarries. In another direction you see other Pyramids towards the south; and towards the north the heights of Abooroash. At your feet, on almost every side, are the relics and ruins of bygone days, and not far away the famous statue of the Sphinx. Indeed, there is so much to be seen from this elevation, that all should ascend who can accomplish the task.

If you explore the interior, you will find a passage of eighty feet in length; you then turn to the right, climb some rough steps, and enter what is called the great gallery. Here there is a horizontal passage to the queen's chamber." You are now 72 feet above the level of the ground. Returning to the great gallery, you ascend again for some time, and then enter another horizontal passage which leads to the great chamber, 34 feet long, 17 broad, and 19 high. Here lies, in the heart of the Pyramid, the empty stone sarcophagus which once contained the bones of the tyrant who founded the building. Above this are four other small rooms. With the exception of what is termed "the well," and a lower passage, this is all you can see in the interior.

On reaching the open air, and contemplating the vast pile of huge granite blocks, you proceed to the second Pyramid, which is smaller and of inferior style, and which is internally much the same as the first. It is 447 feet in height perpendicularly, and its base is 690 feet long. It stands higher than the great Pyramid, and from some quarters looks higher. There are some interesting tombs about it which deserve examination.

The third Pyramid is 203 feet high, and 330 feet at the base. It once contained a sarcophagus, which was lost at sea, and a mummy case which is now in the British Museum.

The three great Pyramids of Gheezeh, the Sphinx, the surrounding tombs, small Pyramids and ruins, are all that ordinary travellers have leisure or perseverance to see. Lovers of antiquarian matters, however, will find here abundant means for study both above and below ground, in buildings, sculptures, paintings, and the remaining contents of the tombs. To describe and enumerate all that is known of the ruins of this mighty Necropolis, this city of the dead, where Memphis deposited her myriads of deceased.sons and daughters for ages, would fill a volume. We call it the burying-place of Memphis, and such it probably was, although the prediction of Jeremiah has long been fulfilled, "Noph (i. e. Memphis) shall be waste and desolate without an inhabitant," Jer. xlvi. 19.

About seven and a quarter miles from the great Pyramid, towards the south, we find other Pyramids at Abusir; more of them at Sakkara, two miles beyond, and still more at Dahshoor, further on. These last include two Pyramids of brick, and it is worthy of notice that the bricks were made like those we read of in Exodus, of clay mixed with straw. Other Pyramids exist still further south; but what with Pyramids, tombs, mummypits, and ruins, we shall have seen enough already to convince us how great and populous, and yet how degraded and superstitious, this ancient land once was. We therefore pause, and may reflect a little upon the wonders we have witnessed, as confirmations of Bible history, as fulfilments of inspired prophecy, and as an illustration of that sacred declaration, Vanity of vanities, all is vanity."

แ

I'VE NO NOTION OF DYING SO. A. B. was a son of wealthy, influential parents, in one of the southern counties. He commenced business for himself early in life, and exhibited considerable shrewdness and energy of mind. But the safeguards of virtue and piety did not shield him in the perilous season of youth, and he soon became (in the language of the world) a bold, generous-hearted fellow, growing in popularity and wealth. He was above the fear of religious admonition or commands, and was considered quite able to confute any Christian believer. He was, indeed, a young man of promise; but his life was a dreadful illustration of talents perverted, and also of the down-hill progress of a vicious life, and his last end was a scene of horrors, at the recital of which an ungodly man may tremble. The substance of what I am about to relate is well known in the neighbourhood where he lived and died.

About a year before his death, and not above five years ago, A. B. was riding with an intimate friend, when the conversation which follows was held. This friend, as he now says, was, at the time, considerably impressed by religious truth, though impenitent; but that he might be comforted in his impenitence by the scepticism of his more intelligent and reckless comrade, or for some other reason, he felt desirous to know B.'s sentiments fully on religion. Accordingly, after a little hesitation, he commenced by saying

"B., you and I have been much together, and have confidence, I believe, in each other as friends. We have conversed freely upon almost every subject, but there is one that we have never seriously talked about. It is a subject that has troubled me for some time, and I should like to know what are really your candid opinions. If you don't wish to have them told, I will keep the matter to myself."

"Certainly," was the reply. "I've no objection against making known any of my opinions."

"Why, as to that," said B., "I've no more doubt that there is a God, and that religion is a reality, and that it is necessary to be what the Christians call pious, in order to be happy hereafter, than that we are riding together."

Henry was greatly surprised; and looking at him intently, to see whether there was not designed trifling, B. proceeded :

"It is plain enough that the Bible is true. It's a book that no mere man could ever have written, and a book, in my opinion, that no one, however wicked he may be, can read, and believe in his heart to be an imposition. I have often tried to believe so. And no one can look at the Christian religion, and see what it is designed to effect, without feeling that it must be from God. In fact, no man can be a Deist who isn't a fool. For reason and conscience confirm the Christian doctrines, and satisfy me that there is a place of happiness and of misery hereafter."

Henry was amazed by these confessions from one who had been nurtured in infidelity, and was regarded by the pious as a daring, irreligious young man. At length he replied, "If this is your belief, B., you're in an awful situation. What do you think of your present course?" "Why, it's a pretty bad one, to be sure; but I've no notion of dying so. I expect to become a Christian. But the fact is, a man must have property; unless he has, he is scarcely respected in the world. And I mean to make money, and enjoy life; and when I've got these things around me to my mind, then I will be liberal, and feed the poor, and do good; that's the way men do in the present day."

"But how long do you think it will be safe for you to indulge in your present habits? Being out late, and drinking, have already injured your health."

"I've thought of that," answered B.; "but I'm young and hearty; though I do mean to quit cards and drinking pretty soon."

“I speak as a friend, B.; but I didn't suppose, from what I heard you say, that you believed in a Saviour, or in heaven or hell."

66

I do, as much as you, or any man." "Do you remember playing cards at -?" And here Henry referred to most horrid profanity uttered during a night of carousal.

“Oh, when I swore so I was a little intoxicated; but I felt sorry for it afterwards. I know it's wrong, and I always feel sorry. But when I'm among those fellows, I can't very well help it."

"But how often," continued his still doubting querist, "have I heard you say that religion was nothing but a kind of priestcraft, and that Christians were a pack of

cursed fools?"

"I know I've said so, when they've crossed my path, and made me angry. And I think now that a great many of those who pretend to be Christians are nothing but hypocrites. But that there is real religion, and there are some who possess it, and have what you and I know nothing about, it's no use to deny."

The conversation continued much in this strain for Bome time, and, it is useless to say, made a deep and most happy impression on the mind of Henry.

As for his companion, madness was in his heart so long as he lived, and he soon came to sorrow. He continued to drink, until he was known to be a drunkard. He mingled with gamblers till his moral sensibilities Beemed wholly blunted. At length, after a night of dis

horse, and badly bruised; disease set in, with dreadful severity, upon his constitution, greatly enfeebled by irregularities, and in a little space delirium tremens hurried him to his grave.

Now, while every reader may well be astonished at the inconsistencies, as well as shocked at the impiety, of this wretched man, yet can they avoid seeing that his character is that essentially of thousands who mean finally to enter the kingdom of heaven? Are there not many who read this, respectable before the world, free, as they think, from gross vices, and from danger, who have already entered the path which sunk this young man to eternal night? Let the gay and fashionable remember that the steps which take hold on hell are by no means seldom those which first lead to the convivial card-party. They here find an atmosphere peculiarly intoxicating, which renders serious society and instructive employment altogether distasteful, and are drawn step by step into the associated vices which destroy both body and soul.

Let the sinner who shall peruse this remember, also, that however confident and bold he may be in scepticism, his confidence will desert him at the hour of need. Nay, his hopes from any system of infidelity will vanish now, if he will only sit down and reflect-if he will listen for a few hours to the sober decisions of reason and conscience.

And, finally, let not the sinner imagine that religion is something always, as it were, waiting on him; a prize which, at any future time, he has little more to do than to reach out his hand and take. It is not so. And yet many trust in this delusion, and quiet themselves with this hope, at the very hour they are passing the boun's of mercy. Reader! are you saying, "I've no notion of dying as I am-I mean to become a Christian?" Beware!

EDEN.

ANY attempt to fix the locality of the garden of Eden is attended with insuperable difficulty. No dependence is to be placed on Jewish tradition or heathen mythology, upon ancient legends or modern speculation. As has been very justly observed-"We can trace over all those regions through which the Tigris and the Euphrates flow, the same monuments of the flood which are so remarkable in every other quarter of the world, in the form of boundless deserts of sand, mixed with salt and shells; and of course we might as well look for the rich and beautiful dwelling-place of our first parents in the prairies of America, or the sands of Africa, as expect to discover any trace of it on the banks of the Euphrates." The most probable opinion is that the site of this interesting spot was eastward of Canaan, and north-west of the Persian Gulf, in the midst of the fertile valleys of Armenia, a spot on which, according to Milton's idea, "Nature's whole wealth" was expended and exposed.

In this garden of the Lord there was a river large and deep, which had its four heads, or main streams, into which it divided, each branch having its own appropriate bed or channel, in which it flowed, conveying life, health, and beauty to Eden's thousand thousand plants and flowers. Nor is Milton to be charged with poetic licence when he tells us―

"How from that sapphire fount the crisped brooks,
Rolling on orient pearl and sands of gold,
With mazy errour under pendent shades
Ran nectar, visiting each plant, and fed
Flowers worthy of Paradise, which not nice Art
In beds and curious knots, but Nature boon
Pour'd forth profuse on hill, and dale, and plain.

Thus was this place

A happy rural seat of various view:
Groves whose rich trees wept odorous gums and balm;
Others whose fruit, burnish'd with golden rind,
Hung amiable, Hesperian fables true,

true, here only, and of delicious taste:
Betwixt them lawns, or level downs, and flocks
Grazing the tender herb, were interpos'd,
Or palmy hillock; or the flowery lap
Of some irriguous valley spread her store,
Flowers of all hue, and without thorn the rose;"

while on every individual object, from the greatest and the grandest, down to the least and less impressive, the Creator had engraven his name, and expended his beneficence, and shed the lustre of his glory, and filled its hidden recesses with the cheering intimacy of His own presence.

Of the Source of this one River, all knowledge is lost, and every effort to find it has ended only in disappointment. Whether, as Schlegel conjectures, the first chastisement inflicted on man by expulsion from his first glorious habitation and primeval home, was accompanied by some physical change in Paradise, brought about by some natural convulsion, which resulted in the drying up of the source of this river, and in changing the course of its four grand divisions, we are not in a position to say. There is comparatively little difficulty in tracing the four separate streams into which the river divided itself; but where to look for their one common source no one can tell. The first division, known by the name of the river Pison, takes the precedence as being nearest to Arabia Petrea, where Moses wrote. According to some authorities, this is the same with Abarus, or Batoum, which was in Armenia, and flows into the Black Sea; but according to others, the Araxes has a prior and better claim. Following the reading of the Sacred Text, we learn that "the name of the second river was Gihon; the same is it that compasseth the whole land of Ethiopia"-not that country of this name in Africa, beyond Egypt, but the country lying to the east of the channel of the Euphrates, known by the name of Cus; and if we take Gihon as the eastern channel by which the sub-divided Euphrates enters the Persian Gulf, then here, and not on the borders of Ethiopia and Egypt, we find a district watered by the western branch of the Euphrates, distinguished for its fertility and beauty. Some, however, are of opinion that for this second division of the river, no one now knows where to look. Of the third division, whose name is Hiddekel, we are in no such uncertainty. It is universally acknowledged to be the Tigris, which flows toward Assyria, in a somewhat narrow channel, and with a less rapid torrent than the Euphrates. This Euphrates, which is the fourth main stream, is a famous_river, which, rising in Armenia, skirts the Arabian Desert, passes through Babylon, and empties itself into the wider and deeper Ocean.

passes from mind to mind. Full of life and intelligence is their intercourse. Heart flows into heart, and sweet and full of confidence is their communion. The very waters along whose silvery edge they plant their footsteps, seem to reflect their own purity and peace; and bowing their knees on the banks of this river, they ponr out their united heart and prayer in holiest adoration and sublimest praise to the one ineffable Fountain of light, and life, and love-the Centre of all rest-the Source of all happiness.

Scripture Illustrations.

(Acts i.-ii. 1.)

CHAP. i., verse 12, "Then returned they unto Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is from Jerusalem a sabbath-day's journey." From St. Luke's Gospel (xxiv.50) we learn that our Lord's ascension took place at or near Bethany, a village on the eastern side of the Mount of Olives, and about fifteen furlongs (two miles) from Jerusalem (John xi. 18). Starting from Jerusalem, the traveller crosses the brook Cedron, and soon arrives at Gethsemane, at the foot of Olivet. Near the summit of the hill is a church, built upon the spot where it is supposed our Lord ascended. In this church the priests exhibit a stone, upon which they pretend the Saviour left the mark of his foot when he went up to heaven. Here also is a mosque, from the summit of which there is a most extensive and charming prospect. Jerusalem lies at our feet; in the east, the Dead Sea is visible, with the mountains of Moab rising grandly from it; towards the north, the plain of Jericho and the valley of the Jordan are seen. The scene changes with the position occupied. Olive-trees are still sprinkled over the hill, and the village of Bethany still nestles at its foot, on the side furthest from Gethsemane, as when our Lord visited Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Not far away is Bethphage, so called from its fig-trees, and Dr. Stewart says that figs ripen earlier there than in any other place near Jerusalem. In the garden of Gethsemane, seven enormous olive-trees are still standing, and are supposed to have existed for many ages. If a Catholic should pluck any of their leaves, he would be excommunicated, so much are they venerated. Over all this locality, the monks profess to point out every spot where every event associated with it in the Gospels occurred.

A Sabbath-day's journey was about a mile, the distance to which the Jews were allowed to walk on the Sabbath, according to the tradition of the elders. This rule, although not of Divine institution, was an effectual preventive of Sabbath desecration by travelling. It is to be observed, however, that the regulation we speak of did not mean a mile from one's residence, but a mile from the town; otherwise, persons might have been debarred from the privilege of public worship.

principal room. "This room is both higher and also larger than those below; it has two projecting windows, and the whole floor is so much extended in front beyond the lower part of the building, that the projecting windows

considerably overhang the street." In such a room, he thinks, Paul was preaching when Eutychus fell down from the window to the ground (Acts xx. 6-12). Verse 19, "Aceldama, that is to say, The field of blood." The word Aceldama is formed from two words meaning "field" and "blood" in the Syriac language. It was previously called the "potter's field." It is now still called Aceldama, and, up to a comparatively recent period, was used for the purpose for which it was originally bought-namely, to bury strangers in (Matt. xxvii. 3-10). This field is a small piece of ground outside the walls of Jerusalem, beyond the brook of Siloam, and on the south side of the city. There yet stands there a bailing, the vaults of which contain many human bones, and in which probably deceased strangers were deposited. The ground was long used as a burial-place by the Armenians, who have a convent on Mount Zion. In reference to the name of the "potter's field," Mr. Williams mentions an interesting fact communicated to him by the Prussian consul. It is authenticated as the potter's field by a bed of white clay still worked. Dr. Robinson says: "It seems to have been early set apart by the Latins, and even by the Crusaders themselves, as a place for the burial of pilgrims. Sir J. Maundeville, in the fourteenth century, says that "in that feld ben manye tombes of Cristen men, for there ben manye pilgrims graven." lle is also the first to mention the charnel-house, which then belonged to the hospital of St. John. In the beginning of the seventeenth century, Quaresimus describes it as belonging to the Armenians, who sold the right of interment here at a high price. In Maundrell's day, dead bodies were still deposited in it. And Korte relates, that in his time it was the usual burial-place for pilgrims. Dr. Clarke repeats the same story in the beginning of this century; but, at present it has the appearance of having been for a much longer time abandoned. (See Zech. xi. 12, 13).

Verse 26, "They gave forth their lots, and the lot fell upon Matthias." There are frequent allusions to the casting of lots in the Old Testament. The land of Canaan was divided by lot (Num. xxvi. 55; Josh. xv., xvi., xvii., &c.). _David divided the priests by lot (1 Chron. xxiv. 5). Jonathan was taken by lot (1 Sam. xiv. 41,42). Achan was detected by lot (Josh. vii. 16-18). Jonah was discovered by lot (Jon. i. 7). The lot was ¦ viewed as a solemn appeal to the Lord to decide some uncertain question, and never appears to have been i degraded to a gambling transaction. The custom prevailed among many ancient nations, and different methods were practised. The common mode of casting lots was to write the names of the persons proposed upon pieces of stone, wood, &c., and put them in an urn along with other pieces not written upon. These were all mixed up together, and then a hand was inserted, and the first names drawn were elected. Although the election of an apostle was by lot, we have no reason to believe that ministers ought to be so elected now. Neither can any argument in favour of modern gaming by lotteries be found in this occurrence, for it was no mere speculation for the sake of gain at another man's expense, but a solemn reference of a difficulty to God that he might decide it, and this was done with devout prayer. Barnes that lotteries either originate in, or promote covetousness, neglect of regular industry, envy, jealousy, disappointment, dissipation, bankruptcy, falsehood, and despair." What is gained by one is lost by another, and both the gain and the loss promote some of the worst passions of men-boasting, triumph, self-confidence, indolence, and dissipation on the one hand; and envy, disappointment, sulienness, desire of revenge, remorse, and ruin on the other. God intended that man should

says

live by sober toil. All departures from this great law of our social existence lead to ruin. These are true words; yet it is sad to see to what an extent lotteries prevail in Popish countries, and, above all, under the patronage of priests, who make a large profit out of them. What are called "raffles" are really lotteries, and as such should be avoided by Christians. Pentecost

Chap. ii. 1, "The day of Pentecost." means the fiftieth, and is a Greek word here denoting the feast which the Jews celebrated on the fiftieth day after the Passover. On the fourteenth of the month Abib, the paschal lamb was slain; on the fifteenth, there was a holy convocation; and on the sixteenth, the offering of first-fruits. The fiftieth day from this was the day of Pentecost. In the Old Testament (Exod. xxxiv. 22, Deut. xvi. 10) it is called the "feast of weeks," because it fell a week of weeks after the Passover. According to Jewish tradition, the law was given from Mount Sinai on that day. It may have been so, and it is remarkable that on the same day the Spirit was given in so marvellous a manner, and the Church of Christ organised and established. In the Christian Church, the feast of Pentecost is represented by Whitsunday, which was so called, because anciently it was a common time for celebrating baptism, and the persons baptised were clothed in white garments, as emblematical of that purity of soul which Christians should possess.

A NEGRO ANECDOTE.

Ar a prayer-meeting in New York, a gentleman said he wished the prayers of the meeting for a man who was awakened, but who had great difficulties on the subject of election. He stumbled at all the passages in the Word of God which set it forth. He was disposed to raise objections-could not understand it. Prayer was most earnestly desired for this carping objector, yet awakened sinner.

A clergyman said he wished to relate an incident; it might relieve the mind of the objector.

There formerly lived in the South an old slave, whose name was Abraham, and was known by the name of Father Abraham.

A wealthy man came into the place where Abraham was employed; the man was very profane, taking the name of God in vain continually, cursing and swearing. The old slave kindly and respectfully requested him to desist, and not to couple the name of his Divine and glorious Saviour with profane words.

The haughty white man wanted to know what right he had to dictate to him what terms he should use.

"Massa," said the black man, "I meant no harm and no disrespect; but I could not bear to hear you use the name of Jesus in that manner."

Some time after, the white man fell into great anxiety and trouble of mind. In his distress, he sought for some one who could guide him. He was troubled about this same doctrine of election. He bethought himself of Abraham. He thought if there was an honest man anywhere, Abraham must be that man. He resolved to go and see him, and lay his case before him. He went to the place and inquired for Father Abraham. They told him he was in the field. Into the field he went, and revealed to Abraham his great trouble. "Besides all this," said the planter, "I have great bewilderment on the subject of election, and I am especially troubled and stumble at that passage in Romans ix. 18: 'Therefore hath he merey on whom he will have mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth.' I cannot understand it; how this can be?"

"Massa," said Abraham, "you read too fast. In the beginning, when John came, he said, 'Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand;' and when Christ came