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and that he was the excavator of the tomb.-Israel in Egypt.

ABYSSINIAN PRIESTS.

THE Abyssinian Priests are a jolly set. One might fancy that the author of the "Ingoldsby Legends" had made a stay at St. Theodore's before writing the "Lay of St. Nicholas."

"And Peter the Prior, and Francis the Friar,

Sat each with a napkin under his chin;

But Roger the Monk got excessively drunk,

So they put him to bed, and they tuck'd him in.”

Truly, barring the napkins, putting to bed, and tucking in, which all savour of the European, I could fancy I knew the persons he intended to describe.

I remember how St. Michael's Day was on one occasion passed at Rohabaita. Certain families give feasts on certain saints' days, much after the manner of Catholic countries in Europe. Now it was my host Waddy Hil's custom to "hang out" in honour of St. Michael. Accordingly, for a day or two before his anniversary, all hands were busy in erecting a large "dass," or booth, made of green boughs of trees, close to our compound; and much beer and mead having been prepared, bread baked, and animals got ready for slaughter, on the day appointed the guests arrived, a motley group of Priests and scribes, soldiers and women. By the way, a large party was the evening before collected at St. Theodore's church, where they kept it up, praying, dancing, and drinking, till morning, and few retired sober even then. The evening at Addy Harisho was passed nearly in the same manner. I had been out on the Mareb all the morning, and when I arrived, late in the afternoon, the guests had been some time assembled. On entering, the spoony-sentimental way in which I was welcomed by all the party-men and women coming forward by dozens to embrace me-was at once a proof that they were all very drunk. I went and sat down by Waddy Hil. He said little; but from the peculiarly facetious smile which

accompanied whatever he did say, even when discussing the most serious subjects, I soon saw that he was but little better than his neighbours. An old Priest came up to me, and offered, on the part of himself and his brethren, to perform, if I pleased, the religious dance and song used by them on such occasions. As they seemed anxious to do so, I consented, though verily few of them appeared to be in a state even to walk, much less to dance. I never shall forget their ludicrous efforts to appear graceful, at the same time staggering every step; while the expression of devotion they affected to assume was reduced to a languid smile and thickening eyelids, expressive of nothing but liquor. A hiccup or two occasionally interfered with the solemn words they were chanting; and the stately movements they had begun with, changed gradually to a merry tune, and by degrees the dance became a reel, or rather reeling movement, the words only which accompanied it remaining solemn. At last an old Priest, suddenly forgetting the original chant, changed its words to those of a jovial drinking ditty:-"Don't you stop the liquor, and I will dance for ever!" Instead of the marks of disapprobation, which any one would have expected him to receive from his fellow-Priests, they only burst into a loud laugh, and, declaring the entertainment to be changed for the better, all, with one consent, followed his example and his tune.

Shortly after this the amusements were diversified by a most undignified pugilistic encounter between a very short and thick scribe and a long elephant-hunter, a most singular pair for a duel. They were, however, soon separated; and the man of letters, who was the aggressor, was carried home by his friends, as, poor fellow! he could not walk. Not, I believe, that he had suffered much in the fight; for I saw him receive only a few slaps on his reverend cheeks, one of which, though not administered very severely, brought him to the ground. Strange to remark, these occurrences did not at all seem to diminish the respect of the people for their spiritual pastors and masters.-Parkyns.

THE STUDENT:

A SINGULAR CASE OF CONVICTION.

In the autumn of 183—, I was returning to college, after an absence of several weeks, on account of ill-health. The coach in which I was travelling arrived at P— about nine o'clock at night. Being much fatigued, I immediately retired to bed. The room to which I was shown was large, with two beds standing in opposite corners.

About an hour after I had retired, I was startled from the sleep into which I had fallen, by a person throwing open the door and hastily entering the room. He held a lighted candle in his hand, but immediately extinguished it, before I could cast a glance in that direction. Moving across the room, he threw himself, with a heavy sigh, upon the bed in the opposite corner. He tossed about for four or five minutes, apparently in the deepest agony, exclaiming, “O, wretched! O, miserable! O my God! I'm lost, lost for ever!"

He then rose, and, hastily kneeling by the bedside, prayed earnestly to God for mercy. Again he threw himself on the bed, repeating nearly the same words as before, and again fell on his knees pleading for mercy, and so continued, his distress seeming to increase with his efforts to obtain relief.

I was alarmed. From some cause I was seized with a strange indescribable tremor. I at first thought of speaking, to apprise him of the presence of a stranger: then I thought of quietly slipping out. At length, however, I buried up my head, and kept as quiet as I could, though my feelings, which were indescribable, excluded everything like sleep. I had not the remotest idea who the person was, or as to the cause of his distress.

The coach was to leave at three o'clock in the morning for the college, the distance being about eighteen miles. An hour before this, the stranger hastily left the room in the dark; saying, as he passed out of the door, "I'll go back; I'll go back."

I felt some relief. Uncovering my head, I sprang out of

bed, struck a light, and, dressing myself, hastened down stairs. Looking at my watch, I perceived it wanted from a half to three quarters of an hour of the time. I turned into a sitting-room, which was lighted, and threw myself upon a sofa, in a strange, dreamy state of mind.

The light

I had been seated about ten minutes, when the door opened, and a young man stood before me. He stopped short, and fixed his glaring eyes full upon me. on the table was burning so dimly, that I could not see his face distinctly. I discovered, however, that he looked pale and haggard, and that the deepest misery was depicted in his countenance. By this time I had become so agitated by what had passed, that I could not help trembling, and wishing myself out of the room.

I at length arose, and determined to make my retreat. But just at that moment he called my name, and, passing forward, threw himself on the sofa by my side, saying, "O, did you hear what the Lord is doing in the college ?" I was so astonished, that it was some time before I could reply. At length I said, "No, I have not."

"O," said he, "there is an outpouring of the Spirit there!" "Such an one, and such an one," he continued, naming several of the most ungodly students in the college, "are rejoicing in hope of the glory of God; but wretched, miserable me!" he exclaimed, rising to his feet, and pacing through the room, "there's no mercy, no hope for me!"

He was one of my class-mates, and hitherto a very wild, reckless youth. I knew not what to say, or what to do. I had never thought of religion myself; and I confess I felt not only alarmed, but uneasy in his presence. I almost wished myself clear of him, and that he would not return by that morning's coach. After a little, however, I requested him to sit down and compose himself, as the coach, in a few minutes, would be at the door. He did so, when he told me that he had attempted to flee from his convictions; that he had left the college, and come up to P, for the purpose, as he said, of "getting rid of his distress about his soul."

The language of the Psalmist came into my mind, which

I repeated: "Whither shall I go from Thy presence, or whither shall I flee from Thy Spirit ?"

"It can't be done," said he, rising again to his feet; "it can't be done. I'll go back; and the Lord may do with me as He thinks best."

Presently the coach drove up, and in a few minutes we had taken our seats. The driver cracked his whip, and we were rattling down the street, lined on either side by rows of tall, dusky buildings, which seemed to frown upon us as we hurried by. My class-mate was seated in the corner, wrapped in his cloak. I was in the opposite corner, as far off as I could get; for, to tell the truth, I felt afraid of him. He did not speak to me, nor I to him, till it was broad daylight; though I could now and then hear him sighing, and in low whispers supplicating God for mercy.

It so happened that there was a young lady in the coach, the only other passenger, who had been on a visit to some relatives at P, and who, hearing of the work of grace in the town and college, was returning home. As I was slightly acquainted with her, she several times attempted to introduce the subject. I as often attempted to evade it, by turning the conversation to something else. I could observe, moreover, that every time she mentioned it, my class-mate would bury his pale, anxious face in the folds of his cloak, and tremble in his whole frame.

As the coach drove up in front of the college-buildings, the bell was tolling for public worship. The students and citizens were crowding to the doors of the church. My class-mate instantly left the coach, and, with his face still half-buried in his cloak, entered the church-door. I sat still, as if riveted to the seat; I felt as if I could not possibly get out; I was excessively weak. At length, however, I managed to get out, and went into the church, scarcely knowing where I was, or what I was doing.

Just as I entered the door, a venerable-looking man, the Rev. Dr. D, rose in the pulpit; and, leaning forward, began reading a Psalm in the most solemn tones of voice. There was a deathlike silence in the audience. I entered a pew close to the door, and, leaning my head forward on the

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