Turkish, Illyrian, German, and Bohemian lan- | guages, there was not one who had any knowledge of the characters inscribed on these rocks, with such labour, in a country where there is nothing to be had either to eat or drink.' : 33 volume lately published,* the writer of which be- 66 hard stone, his hand sustaining Aaron Hur." is Another inscription, with the figure of an ass, translated-" The people with prone mouth drinketh at the water springs together. The people like a hornet-stung ass kicketh." On About this period, the attention of the western world was called to these mysterious inscriptions, by the publication of the work of Cosmas in which they are described. Dr. Clayton, bishop of Clogher, convinced that they were the work of the Israelites, as asserted by Cosmas, offered a reward of five hundred pounds to any one who would bring copies of them to Europe. Pococke, Montague, Niebuhr, and Burckhardt, stimulated yet further the curiosity which was felt, by copying a few and describing others but little was done till 1820, when Mr. G. F. Gray and his companion succeeded in drawing one hundred and seventy-seven, written in the unknown character, and a few others of a more Another, with a rude drawing of a rock, is renmodern date in Greek. The materials for studying dered-"The eloquent speaker strikes the rock; the inscriptions having been thus accumulated, flows forth the water falling down." scholars in France, Germany, and England, atThese specimens may suffice. Should subsetempted to account for their existence and to quent investigations prove the correctness of these decipher their contents. Professor Beer, of Leip-interpretations, what a striking confirmation shall sic, came to the conclusion that they were the we have of the truth of the Mosaic narrative. work of Christian pilgrims-an opinion now gene- every hand new evidence is crowding in upon us, rally surrendered as untenable, for many reasons; proving that the scriptures are no cunningly amongst others, because they are evidently the devised fable." From Egypt, Nineveh, and Babywork of a single age, and pilgrims during many lon, "the stones are crying out," to rebuke the centuries could not produce the number still in folly of infidelity, and attest the veracity of the existence; because the height at which many are inspired records. And now the desert solitudes of placed require an apparatus of ropes, platforms, or Sinai are apparently becoming vocal in the same scaling-ladders, which it would be absurd to sup- cause, and promise ere long to bring to the conpose that pilgrims carried with them; and because firmation of scripture, words " graven with an the language of Cosmas renders such a supposition iron pen and with lead in the rock for ever." to the last degree improbable; for had they been the work of Christian pilgrims, he or his companions must have known it. Equally unsatisfactory is the supposition that they are the work of a Nabathean tribe inhabiting this district, the existence of such a tribe being unsupported by a single tittle of evidence, and being almost impossible from the utter sterility of the soil, unless indeed they were fed by miracle, without which they could not have subsisted long enough to produce a tithe of the inscriptions. A VILLAGE TALE. CHAPTER THIRD. ONE day, a few weeks after the midnight conference, of which we have ventured to give a modified abridgment, Rebecca Kennet, in travelling dress, was seen to ascend the outside of the coach at her uncle's door. It was quite an event in that household; and when the coach was out of sight, though the sun might shine as brightly and warmly If, however, we ascribe these rude sculptures to as ever, a deep gloom seemed to settle upon the the Israelites during their long encampment in entire establishment, from the head of it to the these valleys, all difficulties vanish. The miracu- shop-boy and servant-maid. To the old shoplous supply of food and water, recorded in the bookkeeper there were also other causes of gloom. His of Exodus, explains the presence of a host, of numbers sufficiently large, for a period sufficiently long, to produce them. They came, as has been well remarked, from Egypt, a country which is covered with inscriptions of every degree of magnitude, wherever there is a rock to receive a chisel, and where the inhabitants were possessed with a rage for turning all its mountains into books, as is proved by existing remains. Familiarity with this practice might well suggest to the Israelites the fitness of employing their abundant leisure in giving a like enduring record to the signal events which had marked their exodus. In the combination of writing with figures, we may trace, too, a rude imitation of the similar combination of pho-maker she was, had obtained his reluctant consent netic and hieroglyphic writing, so prevalent among the Egyptians. This theory of the origin of the Sinaitic inscriptions has been learnedly advocated in a remarkable son had committed an act of bankruptcy by a hasty flight, which subsequent investigation proved to have been taken to avoid the disgrace of an imminent and inevitable commercial failure. His wife was alike ignorant of his intention and destination, and it could only be surmised that he had left the country. In consequence of this, his creditors had entered into possession, and his wife was abandoned to helpless destitution. There was matter for selfreproach here, to the troubled father, who reflected that he had in some measure been accessory to this misery, by refusing assistance when it had been sought; and, taking advantage of his softened mood, Rebecca, like the patient and gentle peace to seek out the deserted wife, and invite her to his Israel from the Rocks of Sinai." By the Rev. C. FORSTER. "The One Primeval Language, including the Voice of London: R. Bentley, New Burlington Street. home, till some plan could be devised for her maintenance. This was the more necessary, since the door of her own father's house was harshly closed against her. "I never thought," said old Godfrey, "that I should ever bring myself to see that false-hearted woman under my roof; but Rebecca has more cause than I to dislike her, and since she had set her mind so much upon it, I couldn't hold out." And so, after a few days' absence, Rebecca returned, but not alone. It would be difficult to say with what feelings Louisa had received the visit of her injured former friend, in the miserable lodgings to which distress had driven her, and had suffered the persuasions of that friend to remove her from the scene of her later sorrows to that of her earlier treachery. But whatever were her mental emotions, there were no signs of remorse, and she entered the house of her father-inlaw, as into an asylum to which she had an undoubted claim, and with a show of injured innocence and condescending magnanimity, which argued unfavourably for the future comfort of Mr. Godfrey and his niece. The old shopkeeper pished and pshawed sometimes, when, after the experience of a few weeks, it was found that his daughter-in-law was too much of a lady-in her own estimation-to do anything useful; that she preferred taking her breakfast in bed, and that her chief occupation through the day was to recline languidly on the sofa, and listlessly turn over the leaves of sundry novels and romances, a fresh supply of which she ordered and received weekly from the nearest town which boasted of a circulating library. And especially, when he saw that the entire care of little Robert, a neglected, weakly, and fretful child, about five years old, was added to every other care, and ruthlessly laid on Rebecca's shoulders, he broke through the silence which, until then, he had imposed on himself. "I tell you what, Rebecca, this won't do. Why doesn't that idle woman wash and brush her own child? The least she could do, I should think, would be to see after him, and keep him out of harm's reach. But instead of that, she makes a complete slave of you, and never a thank you' either, as far as I can see, for anything you do for her. I don't like it, Rebecca." But Rebecca had the soft answer ready-the kind of answer that turns away wrath. She pleaded for poor Louisa," by saying it was no wonder she had lost heart and spirit after the sad blow which had fallen upon her; that indeed she really seemed unwell, and unable to exert herself; but that byand-by, with fresh air and quiet, she would get stronger and move about more, she hoped and thought; and that, as to herself, she did not mind a little extra work. Then she coaxed her uncle to admire little Robert, and coaxed the boy to sit on his grandfather's knee, and found out that when he smiled he was like some one whose name she whispered, and whom they might never see again, till Mr. Godfrey was fairly overcome, and was even prevailed upon to put on his hat and take the little fellow under his protection into the meadow, to gather a big handful of the staring moon-daisies, which were just then in full flower. And then, on the other hand, when the deserted wife gave way to idle lamentations over her hard lot and desolate condition, there was Rebecca at hand to whisper comfortable words of condolence and encouragement, and to suggest some active occupation, to banish unprofitable reflections. And though very little success attended these efforts, she went on in the exercise of that charity which "is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, beareth all things, hopeth all things, and endureth all things;" bearing with mild patience the frequent fits of sullen discontent, and humouring almost all the whims-and their name was legion-of her unhappy visitor. At length, Mrs. Godfrey was induced so far to rouse herself as to attempt the establishment of a village school in the neighbouring cottage, which had some pretensions to gentility, and which Rebecca prevailed upon her uncle to furnish for his daughter, though he predicted that she would never make a living at it, nor half a living either. However, as he must do something for her support, he said he might as well do it one way as another, and he should be glad to have his own house to himself and his niece again. Years, more years, rolled on, and other changes were wrought by time. Old Robert Godfrey had been compelled to stoop under the weight of age, and his eyes had become dim, and his ears hard of hearing, and his hands shook sorely when he twisted the string round his packages of tea and sugar, and he talked tremblingly of the former days being better than these, and of the decay of trade, and the ruin of credit, though for anything that could be seen, his shop was as thronged and his business as flourishing as ever; for there was Rebecca, now a matronly woman, to superintend his affairs, post his ledgers, look to his outgoings and incomings, and to rectify his mistakes when he made them, which was not seldom, as well as to mollify his customers when he offended them, which was not seldom either; for age had added the infirmities of temper to the infirmities of frame, and the generation of old ladies in red cloaks having passed away, or near upon it, another generation had succeeded, who didn't wear red cloaks, and who didn't reverence the ancient shopkeeper's grey hairs, and who "would have found another shop long ago," they said, "if it hadn't been for Miss Rebecca Kennet, who was the cleverest and best-tempered body that ever did stand behind a counter, or ever would." And there were other changes. There was a smart youth, for instance, in apron and sleeves, who called Miss Kennet aunt, though everybody knew that there wasn't so close a relationship as that between them, and who also called the old shop-keeper grandfather, which was in strict accordance with literal fact; and whom both grandfather and aunt called Robert, and who was known all over the village as Robert the third. It would have been hard to recognise in him the half-spoiled, neglected, sickly child who came into the village ten years ago or more, with his mother, and who had been brought up ever since by our kind friend Rebecca, who had nursed him when sick, and kept him in order when well, and sent him to school, and paid for his schooling, and clothed him, and loved him, without spoiling him, and won his affections, and so skilfully managed matters that he became such a favourite with his grandfather that nothing would serve but young Robert must be taken into the shop when he had done going to school; whereupon aunt Rebecca rejoiced with great joy, and whereupon also some wise ones, who were not in Miss Kennet's secret, and never would be, and never could have understood it, if it had been whispered to them, declared that Rebecca was doing an unaccountable foolish thing for herself: not but what the boy was very well, as boys went, but that she would find out some day what it was to be too generous and unsuspecting. Ah, well-a-day! and so it is, that "the children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of light." the lonely stranger, had buried him, and so far forgotten him and his dying requests, that years passed away before his last farewell, with a packet containing a lock of his hair and a breast-pin, which Rebecca well remembered, together with a circumstantial account of his death, written by one who had helped to dig his grave in the wilderness, reached, by a circuitous route, his native village. There were mourning and lamentations then. Tears there were, and there was sorrow too deep for tears. From that day of sad tidings, the aged shop-keeper drooped and drooped; his faculties failed rapidly. A few months of painful imbecility, and then the utter decay of bodily power, and then death. "Robert Godfrey, Grocer, Draper, and General Dealer. Licensed to sell Tea, Tobacco, and Snuff. Agent to the Farmer's Fire Insurance Company," and so forth. What with its new front and oak graining and varnish, the village shop, in these later days, is brighter and smarter than ever. There is a good substantial air of respectability about it, moreover, which is quite pleasant to contemplate. And the name! still the same name, over the door, newly painted and gilded too~ "Robert Godfrey." There's a story about that," says an aged gossip of ours, as we stand admiringly at her cottage door; "and if you'll come in and sit down, I'll tell it." We like a story dearly, so we accept the invitation, and listen to the village tale which we have amplified here, and curtailed there, and fitted together, and narrated. 66 But, Rebecca-good Rebecca Kennet, what further of her ?" 66 And there were other changes. The young farmer at the Grange-when no longer very young-had made a final and unsuccessful effort to win the lady of his love, and then, submitting to his cruel fate, had suddenly bethought himself that "there are as good fish in the sea as there are out of it," or if not as good, passable fish, at any rate. So he cast his matrimonial net into the sea, and chuckled hugely that he had got a Rebecca at last. And so he had, and a very good Rebecca, and at the date to which our story has brought us, there were sweet sounds of infantile music at the once solitary Grange. We might speak also of Mr. Peacock, once cordwainer and bell-ringer, in honour of whom a muffled peal had been rung years before, and whose debt to his neighbour Godfrey had never been paid, and never would be. But we pass by Mr. Peacock, and glance at Eglantine cottage-so named by Louisa Godfrey, because there was a smack of romance in the name, which she had picked up in some interesting novel, and rescued from oblivion to bloom anew in our village. The school had been a failure, as the old shop-keeper predicted, and My story isn't all told yet," says our friend. the triumph his sagacity thereupon obtained had "When old Robert died, there was a search for partly reconciled him to the maintenance of his his will, of course; and it was found: and, as was daughter-in-law, who "did not think she had expected, every stick and straw was left to Miss anything to thank the old man for, considering it Rebecca. The will had been made years and was his own son who had reduced her to eat the years, and had never been altered. Well, would bread of bitter dependence," as she said; and who you think it, before the dear creature had time to likewise predicted that her husband would come turn round, she had notice given her that Mrs. home some day soon, to see after his rights, and Godfrey-that was the old man's daughter-in-law her rights, and their son's rights; and then they meant to dispute the will, and get hold of the would know whether Rebecca Kennet was going property for her son, thinking, perhaps, if she to have it all her own way, to the end of the chap- could do that, she might manage to get hold of ter. And there were those who would have made her share. It was plain enough how it was: mischief of these oft-repeated words if it had been there was a gay sort of man who had lodged a in their power, which it was not, for Rebecca good bit of time at her cottage-Eglantine CotKennet, with all her sweetness, had a certain look tage, she called it-who had been brought up to of her own, which could stop the glibbest tongue the law, it seems, and he persuaded Mrs. Godfrey and put the boldest tale-bearer out of counte- that there was what he called a flaw in the will, and he could overturn it for her, if she would promise to marry him when it was done. So she gave the promise, and he set to work. Poor young Robert! he was almost out of his mind, when he found out what was going on; but he couldn't help it; only he wouldn't leave his aunt, as he called Miss Rebecca, in this new trouble. And then there was a trial, and great expense attending it, no doubt; for, kind as Miss Rebecca was, she wouldn't give in, as perhaps it was thought she would, but went through it all quietly. So, at last, the will was proved to be a good will, and Mrs. Godfrey lost her second husband along with the cause, and went clean away from the village. nance. But what had become of Robert Godfrey ?-of Robert, the husband of Louisa? For a year or two after his flight he wrote, at uncertain intervals, to his deserted wife, bidding her be of good heart, for he would return some day, when fortune had smiled upon him, to take her to the land of his adoption. But then came a long interval of silence a silence never more to be broken by him, for tidings came at last that his wanderings were over he was dead; he had died on some prairie in the far west, whither he had accompanied a band of adventurers, who, too much engrossed by their own concerns to mourn long or deeply for "And then, would you think it, as soon as the law-suit was over, Miss Rebecca called in a lawyer, and after she had settled a good income, for life, upon Mrs. Godfrey, she made over all the rest to young Robert, because he was the rightful heir of his grandfather, only keeping back enough for herself to live upon as a single woman, in case she should get past work. And then, till master Robert was of age, she managed the business and kept house for him; and when that time came, she gave all up into his hands; and that's how it is the name stands as it always did over the door." remembered that, although in such a place, and devoted to such uses, they are invariably preserved by the crimson coverlet before alluded to, except on special occasions. The house divided on the bill to which we just referred, which was lost. On our readmission to the gallery, there were only eight peers present, and three of them immediately left. A stranger would have thought, perhaps, that the house was "up," and that they would have separated in a moment. No such thing! The House of Lords is very different in this respect from the House of Commons. A noble earl rose and introduced quite a new subject, on which he spoke for twenty minutes in a very masterly style. He concluded by moving for the production of certain papers, which was agreed to, and their lordships (who were only six in number, including the lord chancellor) immediately adjourned. "Why, now, haven't you heard about it? Mr. Robert is just going to be married; and a nice, open-hearted young man he is; he takes after Miss Rebecca, I think, more than anybody else: well, he is going to be married, and Miss Rebecca is going to leave the old place at last, though 'tis Returning once to the reporters' gallery of the much against his wishes; but she won't live far House of Commons, to our surprise we found that off, and she says it is best for married people to the first person we met, on entering our apartment, have a clear house to themselves, so she is going was a member who had just made his maiden to retire, as she calls it; which means, I take it, speech. We had passed unchallenged the avenues that she will lay herself out, more than ever, to do to our gallery, and at length had penetrated to the good, all sorts of ways, to everybody around, and terra incognita, where dull and prosy speeches are never lay down in peace, if she thinks there's any-"licked into shape" and where the greatest orators thing left undone that might be done, to make another happy-bless her!" Yes, old friend, and blessed are such as she, with all the blessings which belong to the peacemakers, the meek, the poor in spirit, the pure in heart. The Master has spoken it. A REPORTER IN THE BRITISH SENATE. PENCILLINGS IN BOTH HOUSES. ONE of those little episodes which ever and anon relieve the often tedious monotony of the House of Lords, occurred on June the 3rd, when H. R. H. the duke of Genoa paid a visit to their lordships. This distinguished foreigner is brother to the king of Sardinia, and appeared greatly interested in the discussion which was going forward on the Alteration of Oaths Bill. His presence was deemed a fitting occasion for the removal of the crimson cover by which the throne and chairs of state are ordinarily concealed. The sight certainly was most gorgeous, and not unworthy of being exhibited to one of royal blood. There are upon the throne three chairs of state; the central seat is elevated above the other two for the queen, that on the right hand being appropriated to H. R. H. the prince of Wales, and that on the left hand to prince Albert. The queen's seat, or throne, stands seven feet high, and is constructed of mahogany of the very finest description. It has an oblong footstool about four feet in length, gilded and adorned to correspond with the throne and chairs. It may interest our fair readers to state that the top of this stool is covered with crimson velvet of the richest and most costly kind, gorgeously embroidered in gold. The pattern is a rose of eight leaves, within a circular border, from which small roses spray outwards to the corners. There is an outer border of fleur-de-lis, and the tassels are of crimson silk and gold thread. Some idea may be formed of the costliness of these chairs when it is of the day have their mightiest efforts fairly and fully placed before an intelligent and admiring public, who would otherwise have but a faint conception of their senatorial glories. The object of the gentleman's visit was to get his speech inserted verbatim from the Mss. he held in his hand, in the papers of the next morning. For that purpose he inquired for Mr. Dod, who is a very important series of years a reporter of the debates in connec functionary in our gallery. He was for a long tion with the "Times" corps, and on the resignation of the late superintendent of the reporters for that journal, was appointed to succeed him-a post which his antecedents eminently qualified him to fill with efficiency. He is a high, if not the very highest, authority on matters parliamentary, whe ther of precedent or etiquette, and his "Parlia mentary Companion" is justly regarded as an indispensable vade-mecum to those interested in senators and senatorial affairs. It is, indeed, a complete historico-biographical repository of facts and figures relating to the age, rank, family con nections, political views, and antecedents of the members of both houses. His "Peerage" and "Electoral Facts" are unique and complete. These works, indeed, stand at the head of publications of their class. It is one part of Mr. Dod's duty to despatch messengers to procure important documents, etc. from the members in whose orations they occur; for, by an understanding which exists among the morning papers, if an honourable gentleman gives an important document to one journal, there is a proviso that it shall be immediately put in type by the journal to which it is furnished, that the others, if they think proper, may have copies of it. This plan, in many cases, works well enough, but it is often found to be most unsatisfactory in its operation. Honourable gentlemen are not probably aware that, from the lateness of the hour at which such copies are sent to the other papers by that to which the document is originally given, it is often impossible to get it in, and thus the speech very often appears without it, in perhaps every journal save that to which it was originally sent. If, therefore, our honourable friends desire to make themselves absolutely certain that their quotations should appear in all the papers-and one would think that they must have that desire, if their object be the diffusion of right principles and useful information-let them take the hint here given, and make six copies, for only six are required, and send them by the messenger, in separate envelopes, to the reporters of the (1) Times," (2) "Morning Advertiser," (3) "Morning Chronicle," (4) " Daily News," (5) "Morning Herald," and (6) "Morning Post.' To return from this explanation, however, we may add that the member in question was courteously apprised by Mr. Dod, that his speech was, by that time, probably in type from the transcribed notes of the gentlemen employed to take it, and to this was appended a polite intimation that he would have abundant opportunities of expressing his views at sufficient length on future occasions. Mr. Dod, in addition to his superintendence of the corps of his own journal, as the senior reporter in the gallery, has, by common consent, a species of general superintendence-a function to which he is peculiarly adapted. During the construction of the new house, this delegated authority was exercised to provide for our comforts; which, with one exception, for which he is not at all responsible, are well attended to. That exception is the ventilation of the rooms which are provided for our accommodation. They are well and conveniently furnished, but where ten or a dozen congregate, they must be either half suffocated with the closeness of the atmosphere, or expose themselves to all the dangers of checked perspiration, by sitting in a strong current of air. Something might, and we trust will, be done to remedy this deficiency; and then nothing further would remain to be desired. The reporters' rooms often present very interesting scenes, when we are all huddled out during a division. An amiable gentleman, (doubtless with the benevolent intention of doing the reporters a favour) has made a motion to allow of their being present during the division; but we may take the liberty of stating that such a course is not wise, but otherwise. No one in 66 our gallery" will thank him; quite the other way. By a division we often get ten minutes' respite in the midst of a heavy debate, and return with renewed vigour to our task. Such of our readers as have glanced at the columns of provincial papers, are often surprised at the brief but comprehensive and intelligent news resumé of the "London correspondents.' Most of these gentlemen officiate in "our gallery." We have also a very plentiful sprinkling of briefless barristers, and several who have long since escaped from that melancholy category. It is no uncommon case for a barrister to attain a very respect able position in his profession, and yet to retain his post amongst us, as the money thus earned is an addition to his revenue by no means to be despised. When he rises yet higher, and his practice increases to an extent which will warrant such a step, he generally bids us a respectful adieu. A case of this kind occurred on the day we penned these lines. Indeed, there are gentlemen on the bench, and numbers at the bar, who were mainly, if not wholly, dependent on their resources as parliamentary reporters during that critical period of their lives when their abilities were not yet sufficiently known, and when, without some such aid, they would probably have "blushed unseen," instead of becoming the "observed of all observers." We have men at the bar amongst us, we repeat, who have taken their degrees with honour at the universities, and others who have elevated themselves from the mechanical arts, by the irresistible impulses of that genius which panted within them. Some are authors of long standing, and others are editors of acknowledged ability; contributors to reviews and periodicals also abound. From our ranks, indeed, the editors of the mass of our periodical literature are drawn. There is a diversity of grade in respect of talent in the occupants of "our gallery," although all must have reached a certain point of ability before they can be safely intrusted with the important duties of so responsible a function. Some are expert short-hand writers, and but indifferent reporters; others are admirable reporters, and deficient in short-hand-writing power. The difference between a short-hand writer and a reporter is not generally understood; and the confusion of the two has led to many a disappointment on the part of aspirants to "our gallery." The qualifications requisite are diametrically opposite, and the nature of the duties are wide as the poles asunder. When competency in both branches is united in one person, that constitutes an efficient parliamentary reporter. This, however, in the full extent, is by no means a common occurrence. A short-hand writer is one who is able, or supposed to be able, to take down upon his short-hand notes the ipsissima verba of the speaker, in the most literal sense of the terms; while the reporter is one who has, or is supposed to have, judgment, discretion, and such a general knowledge of the subject which comes before him, and superadded to these a peculiar tact for conden sation, as will enable him to express, in a terse form, the ideas of a speaker, and divest them of that diffuseness and verbiage into which almost all extemporaneous orators are continually led. It must be obvious to the most superficial observer, that the parliamentary reporter requires both these powers during almost every debate to which it is his lot to listen; for, even when the most impor tant topics are under discussion, speakers who will not bear verbatim reporting, are sure to have something to say, and their suggestions are ofttimes of great value. It would often be intense cruelty to this deserving class of members to print verbatim, their occasionally unfinished and often confused sentences; but by a judicious reporter, all their pertinent suggestions are preserved in a fluent form, and their offences against Lindley Murray are concealed from the public eye. But while there is not an honourable gentleman in the house whose speeches do not sometimes need to be subjected to this process of judicious distillation, still there are often great orations-"set speeches"— prepared with much care, and delivered with elegance and accuracy, which cannot be thus treated. It would be equally unjust to attempt to condense these as it would be to print verbatim those |