Supply and Demand.-By supply is meant the quantity of commodities for sale; and by demand, the quantity of commodities wanted by purchasers. However abundant the commodities in any country, they are not called a supply, until they are for sale, or in the market; nor do we consider a demand for them to exist, however strong and general the desire to possess them, until purchasers appear who have money or other commodities to offer in exchange. A desire to obtain may exist on the part of those who have not the means of buying; but a desire felt by persons so circumstanced does not constitute what is called demand. Demand implies both the desire to obtain and the means of buying. When there are more goods in the market than can be disposed of, we say that the supply is greater than the demand; and when, again, there are not sufficient goods to serve all the purchasers, we say that the demand is greater than the supply. Compiled from TEMPLAR and Dawes.

SPECIMENS OF DESCRIPTIVE TRAVEL.

The Pyramid of Gizeh.-WITH what amazment did we survey the vast surface that was presented to us when we arrived at this artificial mountain, which seemed to reach the clouds! Here and there appeared some Arab guides upon the immense masses above us, like so many pigmies, waiting to show the way to the summit. The mode of ascent has been frequently described. The reader may imagine himself to be upon a staircase, every step of which, to a man of middle stature, is nearly breast high; and the breadth of each step is equal to its height; consequently the footing is secure; and although a retrospect, in going up, be sometimes fearful to persons unaccustomed to look down from any considerable elevation, yet there is little danger of falling. In some places, indeed, where the stones are decayed, caution may be required; and an Arab guide is always necessary to avoid a total interruption; but, upon the whole, the means of ascent are such that almost every one may accomplish it. Our progress was impeded by other

causes. We carried with us a few instruments, such as our boat-compass, a thermometer, a telescope; these could not be trusted in the hands of the Arabs, and they were liable to be broken every instant. At length we reached the topmost tier, to the great delight and satisfaction of all the party. Here we found a platform, thirty-two feet square, consisting of nine large stones, each of which might weigh about a ton; although they be much inferior in size to some of the stones used in the construction of this pyramid. Travellers of all ages, and of various nations, have here inscribed their names. Some are written in Greek, many in French, a few in Arabic, one or two in English, and others in Latin. We were as desirous as our predecessors to leave a memorial of our arrival; it seemed to be a tribute of thankfulness due for the success of our undertaking; and presently every one of our party was seen busied in adding the inscription of his name. DR E. D. CLARKE.

The Nile.-THE Nile is all in all to the Egyptian. If it withheld its waters for a week, his country would become a desert. It waters and manures his fields, supplies his harvest, and then carries off their produce to the sea for exportation. He drinks of it, he fishes in it, he travels on it: it is his slave, and used to be his god. The inundation of the Nile begins in May, and attains its full height in August. Then it is that Egypt presents one of the most striking of its Protean aspects, becoming one archipelago, studded with green islands. Every island is crowned with a village, or an antique temple, and shadowy with palm-trees or acaciagroves. Every city becomes a Venice, and the bazaars display their finest cloths and tapestries to the illuminations that are reflected from the streaming streets. The earth is sheltered from the burning sun under the cool bright veil of waters; the labour of the husbandman is suspended, and it is the season of universal festivity. Boatmen alone are busy ; but it would seem to be pleasant business, for the sound of music is never silent beneath those large white wing-like

sails. As the waters retire, vegetation seems to exude from every pore. Previous to its bath, the country, like Pelias, looked shrivelled, and faded, and worn out; a few days after it, old Egypt looks as good as new, wrapped in a richly green mantle, embroidered with flowers. Great part of this picture, however, is now of rare occurrence, the inundation seldom rising to a height greater than what is necessary for purposes of irrigation, and presenting, alas' rather the appearance of a swamp than of an archipelago. WARBURTON.

Pompeii.-THE reader will bear in remembrance that only sixteen years elapsed between the overthrow of the greater part of Pompeii by an earthquake in A.D. 63, and its final destruction in A.D. 79. This brief interval had been diligently employed by the citizens in rebuilding the ruined town, and hence it was fresh from the hands of the artists and workmen, when the sudden outbreak of Vesuvius buried it in the grave where it lay undisturbed for nearly seventeen centuries. This accounts for the abundant traces of half-finished work which everywhere meet our view. We see temples in the progress of erection, with the columns half-hewn, the walls just rising, and the masons' tools lying beside them; and the whole looks so fresh and new, that you would almost suppose the mason was only gone to his dinner, and about to come back to resume his work. What a scene altogether is Pompeii! The mind receives here the astonishing impression of a nation risen from the dead, their daily life actually passing before our eyes. They are before us who were suddenly stopped by the hand of death in the midst of their labours and pleasures, surrounded by all the circumstances of their diurnal occupations. The storm came, but swept them not away from the face of the earth like other men, who depart and are seen no more; here seventeen hundred years elapse, and all are brought to light again, with their habitations, their temples, their arms, and their implements. Like a watch that has stopped in the night, but still points to the hour when it ceased to vibrate,

this city is found fixed by the hand of death in all the varied attitudes of busy movement; skeletons at dinner, surrounded by the fragments of their feast; skeletons counting that gold which mocks at the corruption of its owners; skeleton judges and skeleton prisoners in the forum; skeleton philosophers lecturing their skeleton disciples in the halls; and skeleton lovers still prostrate at the feet of their skeleton mistresses. Wonderfully curious, the whole scene is a bitter satire on human vanity. Anonymous.

The Pampas.-THE great plain, or Pampas, on the east of the Cordillera, is about 900 miles in breadth, and divided into regions of different climate and produce. On leaving Buenos Ayres, the first of these regions is covered for 180 miles with clover and thistles; the second region, which extends for 450 miles, produces long grass; and the third region, which reaches the base of the Cordillera, is a grove of low trees and shrubs. The second and third of these regions have nearly the same appearance throughout the year, for the trees and shrubs are evergreens, and the immense plain of grass only changes its colour from green to brown; but the first region varies with the four seasons of the year in a most extraordinary manner. In winter the leaves of the thistles are large and luxuriant, and the whole surface of the country has the rough appearance of a turnip-field. The clover in this season is extremely rich and strong; and the sight of the wild cattle grazing in full liberty on such pasture is very beautiful. In spring the clover has vanished, the leaves of the thistle have extended along the ground, and the country still looks like a rough crop of turnips. In less than a month the change is most extraordinary: the whole region becomes a luxuriant wood of enormous thistles, which have suddenly shot up to a height of 10 or 11 feet, and are all in full bloom. The road or path is hemmed in on both sides; the view is completely obstructed; not an animal is to be seen; and the stems of the thistles are so close to each other, and so strong, that, independent of the prickles with which they

are armed, they form an impenetrable barrier. The sudden growth of these plants is quite astonishing; and though it would be an unusual misfortune in military history, yet it is really possible that an invading army, unacquainted with the country, might be imprisoned by these thistles before it had time to escape from them. The summer is not over before the scene undergoes another rapid change the thistles suddenly lose their sap and verdure, their heads droop, the leaves shrink and fade, the stems become black and dead, and they remain rattling with the breeze one against another, until the violence of the hurricane levels them with the ground, where they rapidly decompose and disappear; then the clover rushes up, and the scene is again verdant. SIR F. HEAD.

TO AN EGYPTIAN MUMMY.

AND thou hast walked about (how strange a story!)
In Thebes's streets three thousand years ago,
When the Memnonium was in all its glory,

And time had not begun to overthrow
Those temples, palaces, and piles stupendous,
Of which the very ruins are tremendous.

Speak! for thou long enough hast acted Dummy,
Thou hast a tongue-come let us hear its tune;
Thou 'rt standing on thy legs above ground, Mummy!
Revisiting the glimpses of the moon,

Not like thin ghosts or disembodied creatures,

But with thy bones and flesh, and limbs and features.

Tell us for doubtless thou canst recollect

To whom should we assign the Sphinx's fame?

Was Cheops or Cephrenes architect

Of either pyramid that bears his name?
Is Pompey's Pillar really a misnomer?

Had Thebes a hundred gates, as sung by Homer ?

Perchance that very hand, now pinioned flat,
Has hob-a-nobbed with Pharaoh glass to glass;
Or dropped a halfpenny in Homer's hat,

Or doffed thine own to let Queen Dido pass