Thus of the Night: the stars are few,
The scattering haze it hides the blue;
The sea is murmuring deep, not loud,

The lightning plays with the little white cloud,
And only the voices gentle and meet

For the ear of the Night will the wind repeat;
For the wind it cometh from there-away,
And only this has the wind to say:

The Night comes silently.

What more of the Night? Has it a power
To shadow forth the changeless hour,
The midnight hour of a night to some
Whose morning-light shall never come?
What saith the Night?

Silent and voiceless, answering not,
But with a noiseless step, like one
Whose eye thou durst not look upon,
Oh! fearfully the Night comes on!
For out of the darkness and the gloom
Shall come to thee in thy lonely room
The secret thought and vision of dread;

And forms of the living with looks of the dead
Shall rise about thy desolate bed;

And fearful words be whisper'd there

Of a Night whose endless watches are
Ever in darkness and despair;

And ever changing, ever the same,

Remorse and terror and guilt and shame :

Ever the same the vision of dread,
Ever the same the face of the dead,
And ever the same and over all,
Speechless, hopeless, like a pall,
The look of wo unutterable!

Look yet once more, and let thine eye
Soar upward, and beyond the sky.
Comes there a morning ever bright,
A morning of Eternal Light?

What of the stars that gem the Night?

Messengers they, come down to say

That God's bright Heaven lies there-away! Oh! gently and kindly the Night cometh on; Like unto one who waiteth upon

The sick and the dying, the weary and sad;

One whose coming shall make thee glad!

For till the morrow the cares that press

And weigh thee down with weariness,
The doubt and fear, which are ever near
In a life which is but sad at best;
The wordless grief and fruitless quest

And trouble and sorrow - shall be at rest;
And the beautiful Night shall bring to thee
A promise of that which soon shall be ;
The vision of a happier home,
Where care and sorrow shall never come.
For in glory and power and wisdom and might,
Like the presence of GoD, cometh the Night!

The Egyptian Letters.

NUMBER FIVE.

LETTER FITTEINTE.

FROM ABD' ALLAH OMAR, TO SED AHHMAD EL HAJI, CHIEF FORETARY OF THE CEADER AT CAIRO.

FEW things in this world are more remarkable or more common, than the great fondness people have for that which they call their own, and the great desire they manifest to receive the praises of others. If a a person makes a new discovery or invents a new article, straightway he makes the same known to a friend, with a desire that he should give him praise for his ingenuity. Does a man write a book, he immediately sends it to some one with an intimation, perhaps a formal request, to take notice of it in the public prints, which means that it is expected the work will be praised. Praise ensues, because the praiser expects in his turn, whenever occasion offers, to be requited in the same manner.

On these occasions, it is of course necessary that the writer who is to deal out the encomiums will have tested the merits of the discovery, seen the newly-invented article put to the purpose for which it was designed, and read the book he is called upon to commend. Whether this is done, is more than doubtful, seeing how indiscriminate praises are often given, and how frequently more commendation is bestowed than the subject will bear. But if they who are called upon to stamp the worth of things after this manner are obliged to submit them to the test I have mentioned before forming their opinions, what must be the hardship endured by those who are requested to give currency to quack medicines? And if it should be one person only who is required to pass judgment, and recommend a variety of nostrums all at the same time and quickly, his condition must be truly wretched.

With what kind of pleasure could a writer set down to compose a panegyric, while he was swallowing Wynkoop's infallible cure for the Fever and Ague,' having the hair removed from his chin by 'Gouraud's incomparable cream,' while it was made to grow upon his head by the use of Beal's never-failing Restorative,' at the same moment drenching himself with Sands's Sarsaparilla,' and submitting to the effect of 'Comstock's certain Pain Extractor.' Would

any human being under such varied torments be disposed to speak well of any one thing while he was a living martyr to the application of so many at the same time? No; flesh and blood could not stand it, and he would condemn the whole en masse, while he wished the inventors at the bottom of the sea.

This inconvenience is avoided in this manner; these inventors or

projectors choose persons of ready pens and quiet consciences to bring into notice each specific separately. Thus the praiser of the Infallible Cure for the Fever and Ague' is not required to extol the virtues of soap, while the man of soap avoids the infallible cure;' he on whom devolves the duty of lauding Sands's Sarsaparilla' would be entirely out of his element if he touched upon the neverfailing Pain Extractor.'

In this way all confusion is avoided; each person confines himself to the particular nostrum that suits his taste; and of course is able to write more clearly and be more laudatory on one than if he undertook to dilate upon all. I doubt not this method is found to be good, the more so as the practice seems to be universal; beside, for the convenience of those who resort to these beautifiers and infallible remedies, a certain part of a public paper is devoted to advertisements of these articles, to which is appended the recommendations that have been written elsewhere for the purpose of coaxing people to use them.

But of all the subjects that require praise, flattery and every cajoling art to make it popular, none needs more than the newly-discovered process of putting people into a deep sleep at any time, day or night, sick or well, in good humor or bad; in short, whether they will or not; and during the period of this somnambulism performing the most painful surgical operations without the patient moving or even heaving a sigh. This, like all new theories, has to contend with many obstacles, yet the cures performed are very astonishing. Drawing teeth and cutting off limbs during sleep are operations now so common that they are spoken of as ordinary occurrences.

What would you think of a person whose feet turned inward, having his legs taken from his body, re-set with the toes out to the first position, so that on awakening he was able to dance the polka in a becoming manner?

A young lady of eighteen, after sitting before a hair-dresser four hours, had the mortification to discover that her coeffure was, through the clumsiness of the man, totally unfit to appear at the ball, being not at all after the last Parisian touch. Provoked at this misfortune, yet too weak to bear another four hours' sitting, she was mesmerized, her head taken off without her being sensible of pain, and after a few hours' sleep she awoke much refreshed, her head where it should be, and her hair dressed 'a ravir.' These two last experiments I cannot vouch for, not being present at their performance, but being related in the newspapers, there can hardly be a doubt of the facts having actually occurred.

There is a collateral branch of this system, called clairvoyance, by which a person, after being put into a proper state, may with his eyes closed see clearly through a stone wall, or accurately describe at New-York the contents of a room or the occupation of a person at New-Orleans, or any other distant place. As it strikes me, this is an invention that ought to be suppressed by authority. It is putting a deadly weapon into the hands of an individual, that may be used for improper purposes. No one likes to have his private affairs, his

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little sayings and doings pried into and reported to all the world, very probably too in a perverted form. Suppose a lady whose husband has been long absent in a distant land should wish to console herself in her lonely state by a tête-à-tête with a second or third cousin, a young officer of the army, or one of the navy from a long cruise; her other half, by the clairvoyant process, would see what was going on, and not being able to hear the innocent conversation, would be apt to think the couple were too near each other. He would immediately become jealous and unhappy. Or suppose farther, that a gentleman removed to a distance from his domestic comforts, should be discovered in close conference, in his bed-chamber, with his youthful clear-starcher, who was handling his linen like one accustomed to it; or what is very natural, that he should be near to the chambermaid while she was modestly and in the kindest manner sewing on one of his buttons; the wife might think she saw her husband in a dangerous position, and feel quite uneasy, when in truth the man might be as pure as an icicle. In short, men and women at a distance from each other may be placed in situations apparently less equivocal, and their most innocent intentions or occupations be much misunderstood. I think therefore you will agree with me, that this discovery should not receive favor, but be pronounced useless, burdensome and dangerous.'

No where is observable more of puffing, flattery and self-adulation than in the public journals. When a new paper is to be established, one of the first things to be done is to engage the labor of a certain number of what are called puffers-up. This is a class of men found in many places, who work for small wages, payable chiefly in kind, who having little reputation for taste or literature, seek to bring themselves into notice by soliciting the favor of others to new works. That which is brought from afar is most valued. Thus you will often see a paragraph taken from a supposed or real journal a thousand miles off, that will bestow a world of praise on a paper of the city, and proclaim in sounding terms the wide circulation it enjoys in the interior. This increases the number of its readers, and obtains for it the lucrative patronage of persons in trade, who like to have their names made visible far and wide, and the articles they deal in made known to those who come to the city. The city papers never fail to let their readers know how well they are thought of abroad, and a few of them have in a prominent part a list of all these flattering testimonials, which it is pretended are written in all countries from Dan to Beersheba; places never heard of before, got up by the John Smiths and John Browns, who are every where to be found, ready instruments for all those who want to use

names.

This system is now so universally in vogue that no newspaper is expected to succeed without adopting it, and a large portion of current literature is indebted to the same means for bringing itself into notice.

The whole is rather disgusting, yet in a country where the inhabitants are determined to go ahead, and are unscrupulous about the

means, they must and will have recourse to all and every method, even if it should not be a commendable one. At the same time I am not so cynical as to wish to dispense with a well-turned compliment when it is courteously applied, nor do I object to a spice of flattery; which, when bestowed with tact and delicacy, is pleasing not only to him who receives but to him who gives. When managed with judgment it often conciliates enemies, and may be made a means of retaining friends. An anecdote, derived from a high source, will best illustrate my meaning.

When Solomon was told that the Queen of Sheba intended to make him a visit, he determined to receive her with all the magnificence his court could display and with every demonstration of respect due to so distinguished a personage. Beside arraying the interior of his palace with every work of art which his own taste could suggest, or the skill of the East could invent, he caused the floor of the apartment through which the Queen was to pass on her way to salute him on his throne, to be laid with looking-glasses.

This novel display excited, as it well might, the admiration not only of the city but of all Judea. The Queen approached, and looking before her, discovered as she believed, a limpid sheet of water, tranquil and shining like a molten mirror. Being unwilling to injure her dress by allowing it to touch what she thought was water, she raised her garments as she advanced to the elevated spot where Solomon sat to receive her. In doing this she exhibited parts of her limbs just above the ankles, which the people here, profane though they are, never mention. This was an unfortunate display, but what was worse, it appeared that these parts were covered with hair, and Ya Emeen (O Trustworthy!) who shall say it? this was red! I should not venture to relate the circumstance where it not so well authenticated as to leave no doubt of its being a melancholy fact.

Here was a go,' to use the words of the profane; enough in modern times to have stopped a funeral or felled a troop of horse, riders and all. Solomon slightly curled up his lip, as you and I should do, had we been present, for he was a little disconcerted, never having seen any thing of the kind before, though a person, as we all know, of profound wisdom, and very knowing in every thing that was in any way connected with the feminalities. With admirable presence of mind however, he composed his countenance almost immediately, while in the most gracious manner he bent toward her Majesty and said: There is nothing new under the sun.' Queen on her part, perceived her mishap, and the impression she had made, yet with great propriety and ready wit advanced toward the king, complimented him in the most adroit manner on his great wisdom and splendor, at the same time added: Behold the onehalf was not told !' The spectators were lost in admiration at the very delicate manner the royal personages had each slid out of this little embarrass, while the King and Queen continued passing compliments to each other till they separated; which they did with many

The