OF

POPULAR

LITERATURE

No. 19.

CHRISTMAS-DAY ON THE NILE. THE Voyage up the Nile from Alexandria or Cairo to the Cataracts has now become as common as the Rhinetrip was some years ago. The regularity and dryness of the climate have induced many London physicians to send patients there who suffer from chest complaints: the number of such travellers in pursuit of health is, accordingly, becoming greater every year. The East India Company allow their officers on leave of absence to remain on full pay while they are in Egypt; so, many of the heroes of Scinde and the Sutlej, of Cabool and Afghanistan, taking advantage of the permission, meet friends from England, and enjoy a three months' holiday on the Nile. A supply of antiquaries is never wanting, where every mound conceals a buried town, and every hillside is excavated by tombs filled with the remains of the past. Many enthusiastic clergy also are yearly found treading in the track of Moses and the Israelites. Many a sportsman takes a Nile boat, in order to try his rifle and his skill on a crocodile. Many an artist may be found undertaking the same journey, to sketch the various costumes of the people, | the scenes on the river, the busy streets of Cairo, the mosque and the minaret, the majestic columns of Karnac, and the mud-hut of the peasant surrounded by its palm-grove: past and present alike suit his purpose. Then we have the author in various shapes, from the lady who writes letters not intended for the postoffice, but honestly directed to her publisher, and the gentleman whose notes are never intended for publication, but are brought to light at the earnest solicitation of too partial friends, to the diligent investigator of the secrets of history or the marvels of ancient art; such as Lepsius and Sir Gardner Wilkinson. Nor are ladytravellers wanting. In one boat may be seen the fair blue-eyed daughter of a remote Scotch village, who has followed her husband from Calcutta to the Indus, who has lived the life of camps, but not lost an iota of her feminine gentleness, and now supports the feeble steps of him whose strength has fallen before the climate which the slender girl has withstood. In another, a widow is alone with her only son, hoping to obtain for him the health everybody but herself can see will never return. Further on, are the daughters of an English noble, who have left the many enjoyments of home-life without a sigh, to tend a sick husband and an aged father; not only enduring what to them are privations with cheerfulness, but even enjoying them in so good a cause the kind friends while the successful rivals of the artist and the author -the impersonation of all that is graceful in manner and good in intent. This is no fancy picture. Many

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who not long ago passed a winter on the Nile will remember for many a day the harmonious voice which gave additional charm to a conversation where the object of each was the pleasure of making others happy. They will remember the cheerful affability, the natural, unforced politeness, and the frank kindness of some who perchance may read this paper, and be reminded by it of Christmas on the Nile.

When the incentives to travel are so numerous, and it is known that security to person and property is as effectually secured from the Mediterranean to the confines of Abyssinia, as from Charing Cross to Temple Bar, no one will wonder when we state that every winter about sixty boats are hired from Cairo and Alexandria, by English travellers only, for the Nile-trip. On a certain day towards the close of December, fifteen of these boats were assembled at Thebes; most of them were lying close to the village of Luxor, but two or three were on the opposite side near Gournou. It was agreed, however, on Christmas-eve, that all should meet next morning, and spend the day and dine together as best they could, in memory of Old England. The assemblage was a peculiar one. Some were on their way towards the Cataracts, others returning. Messrs Brown, Jones, and Robinson, having hired a boat together, had hurried up to the second cataract without waiting to see anything on their way, intending to visit the lions on returning; but they had been delayed by contrary winds, were tired of each other, and bored by the whole affair. They were now hurrying back to get letters; and although Brown thought he might be laughed at in England if he had not seen Karnac, after going so far to do so, and had therefore smoked a cigar among the ruins, yet he would not go to the Tombs of the Kings; and Jones and Robinson, hearing that there were plenty of snipe in a marsh near Medinet Habou, went off with their guns, and returned in great glee with a contribution of twenty couple of birds to the Christmas-dinner, far better satisfied with themselves than if they had been 'dawdling about old walls.'

Mr Spooner, and a German doctor who was travelling with him, went off with a gentleman in green spectacles, who measured the height, length, and breadth of all the largest stones; while the doctor instructed the lady in the language of the Egyptians, and made sketches of her seated on her donkey, with the most charming little rows of lace round the frilled edges of the inexpressibles which ladies who ride donkeys in Egypt do well to wear. The Rev. Thomas Grinder, who was coaching three pale and hopeful youths for their 'little go,' and farmed them for the trip, rode about expounding the wonders of nature and art to his half-starved pedestrian pupils. Sir Charles Gaunt, a gay old beau about town,

was travelling that he might have something to talk about at London dinners from April to August, and was improving his time by flirting most desperately with the smiling young wife of an old, sour East Indian, who had lost his liver in some Bengal jungle. A handsome young naval officer, in the last stage of consumption, whose mother, with all the beautiful hopefulness of a mother's love, had left husband and home to tend and comfort her son in his search after health, had just received news of his promotion, and, while the flush of death sat on his cheek, was busy with hopes and plans

of still further advancement in his noble service.

We need not portray our Nile party further than to state, that all the above, with sundry others in shooting-jackets and wide-awakes-some with a turban round a straw-hat, others with an umbrella-a small proportion of ladies in cloaks and hoods-a number of sketch-books-a photographic machine-a whole herd of donkeys and their drivers, with guides and interpreters, formed an assemblage which would have mightily astonished Pharaoh, had he risen up among the ruins of his palace. It was indeed a curious sight. Among the vast remains of the stupendous works destroyed 3000 years ago, and after 3000 years of ruin and successive spoliation still remaining the grandest monuments of ancient art in the world, wandered the sons and daughters of the island whose power and dominion is greater and more extended than ever was that of Egypt, Greece, or Rome. Here, upon the fallen fragment of the colossal statue of an Egyptian king, sat an English girl, shading her fair face from the sun with a parasol made in London, sketching the remains of the once proud sovereign, for the edification of her maiden aunts as they sat over their tea in Little Pedlington; there, astride upon a sphinx, dreaming of some 'capital run' in Leicestershire, sat Brown, quietly basking in the sun, and perfuming the air with his Havannah; a little further on, a half-naked Arab was uncorking a bottle of Bass's Pale Ale, which our friend the Indian was taking instead of an antibilious pill; then followed a merry party on donkeys, trotting off to the Colossi. The English newspapers up to the 12th of November, just arrived from Cairo, took more than their share of attention from the hieroglyphics. Sheshonk led into captivity with his Hebrew subjects, sunk into insignificance beside the last accounts of the Mannings; and the efforts of the Protectionist party excited almost as much interest as the struggles of Miss Snowdrop to free herself from her fallen donkey.

The day was spent in sight-seeing; and a glorious day it was for the purpose-a bright sun, a clear sky, and a fresh breeze-perhaps a trifle too warm in the sun, and rather too cool in the shade for the invalid or the fastidious, but thoroughly enjoyable, and in most striking contrast with the frost and snow which make an English fireside the type of all comfort at Christmas. There was far too much to see for one day. A volume might easily be written about what the different members of the English party who met that day at dinner had seen in their morning rambles. The said dinner was a rare one. None of the boats was large enough to hold the whole party, so an extempore tent was fitted up on the bank, near the water's edge. A number of oars were driven into the sandy soil, and to them the sails of the boats were attached. A lofty pole in the centre supported the canvas roof. Tables were joined together-chairs contributed from different boatstable-cloths, knives and forks, glasses, &c., were collected in the same manner; and the service, if not uniform, was tolerably complete. There were one or two little mishaps. Some of the cooks had quarrelled; and one, according to the custom of the country, had nearly succeeded in strangling another by twisting his turban round his neck. A tin case of turtle-soup, which Sir

Charles brought from his stores for the express purpose of delighting Mrs Jamieson, when opened and served up, proved to be more odoriferous than palatable. For the first time, Sir Charles thought Mrs Jamieson's smile unpleasant. tin cases, was a failure; but the mutton and fowls of Some English roast-beef, also in the country, the mock-turtle, made of pigeons by an Arab cook, the omelettes and the mishmish (or apricots and rice), to say nothing of the plum-pudding, were all perfect in their way, and formed as good a dinner as any epicure could desire. The conversation was an odd mixture of Old England and Ancient Egypt, toasts to absent friends, and compliments to new acquaintances. One was full of his morning-visit to the Tombs of the Kings, enraged at the depredations of Lepsius, who had carried off twelve shiploads of sculptured stones, and damaged ten times the quantity he could not carry away. One friend discoursed in most poetical style upon the narrow gorge or deep valley, the 'valley of the shadow of death,' in the rocky sides of which these sepulchral galleries are excavated. The long low entrance-galleries, the descending staircases, and the great halls with the painted walls and the huge sarcophagi, were all subjects for declamation. The painted figures of the different races of people known to the Egyptians, the endless processions, the figures of men and women engaged in all the concerns of daily life, from birth to death, as fresh in colour and distinct in outline as when painted more than 3000 years ago, brought before us the manners and customs of the people who built the temples and palaces we had been visiting-the concerns of indoor-life, the pursuits of agriculture, the ceremonies of the court and the altar, the offerings to the king and to the gods, the chase and the amusements, the rewards and punishments, the birth, marriage, and death, and the judgment of the soul after death, forming a pictorial history of Egypt which 'he who runs may read.'

A large party had also been the round on the western bank, from the temple-palace at Gournou to that at Medinet Habou, including the Memnonium and the two seated colossi of the plain. There is little to see at Gournou, beyond the portico of the temple-palace, which is a long row of simple columns in the form of stalks of water-plants tied together near the top, and a central hall sixty feet in length, supported by six columns. The whole building, indeed nearly all the buildings about Thebes, are of a sort of freestone very much like our Bath-stone. A walk of about a mile along the edge between the desert and the cultivated land, brings us to the Memnonium or Remeseum, one of the most beautiful monuments of Egyptian art. There still remains a central hall 100 feet by 133, with twelve massive columns, 21 feet in circumference, along its centre, and eighteen on either side, 18 feet in circumference-making forty-eight columns supporting a flat solid roof, studded with stars, on a ground which still preserves its blue colour. The walls are covered with sculpture of curious battle-scenes-the chariots and the horsemen, the suppliant and the captive, the siege and the retreat, all being so graphically represented that they might serve for illustrations to a new Egyptian Iliad.

The colossal statue of Rhamses is overthrown, and many parts are destroyed. It was the largest in Egypt, and is computed to have weighed 887 tons. Very near, sit the two colossal statues of the plainthe vocal Memnon and his companion. Some of our English friends visited them at sunrise, to satisfy themselves whether any sound could be heard from this wonder of the ancients. The height of these statues is 60 feet. The pedestal of that of Memnon is covered with inscriptions in Greek and Latin of those who heard the sound at sunrise; among others, that of the Emperor Hadrian. Various explanations have been given of this sound, and there can be no doubt that it

was some natural phenomenon, which ceased when the statue, which had been overthrown by Cambyses, was repaired by Septimus Severus. It was heard before the mutilation as well as after it, as is fully proved by

many ancient authors, but no authentic instance can be found after the repair.

We might talk for hours of the great temple at Medinet Habou, and the battle-scenes on its walls, of the statues, obelisk, and temple at Luxor, and of the far-famed Hall of Columns at Karnac, 170 feet by 329. This is the great sight of Egypt, and with its central avenue of twelve columns, 66 feet high and 12 in diameter, with one hundred and twenty-two, 42 feet high and 9 in diameter, is grand beyond description. When it is known that all these columns are covered with painted sculptures, that the outer surrounding walls are also filled with hieroglyphic inscriptions and sculptured battle-pieces, our readers may be inclined to think that Brown, who spent Christmas-day smoking his cigar among them, spent it better than Jones and Robinson, who preferred snipe-shooting. Those who ate the snipe, however, did not think so at the time, and gave the sportsmen a parting cheer, as their boat was swept towards Old England by the downward stream and a light breeze, soon after the dinner-party had separated to their respective boats. Some who read this paper will well remember that day; and amid the festivities of the London season this year, will think of the deep-blue starry sky, and the clear fresh air of Egypt-will hear again the monotonous chant of the boatmen - will remember the palm-grove and the watch-fire, the filling sail and the ripple of the stream, and will shed a tear over the memory of some now gone, with whom they spent their first and last Christmas-day on the Nile.

THE SICK-NURSE AND THE SICK-ROOM. WERE we to take a census of the female population of England, which should include all individuals between the ages of fifteen years and fifty who considered themselves entitled to be reckoned amongst the genteel classes of society, and from that census were to arrange in two columns, on the one hand the names of all who could play tolerably well on some instrument, and had a fair knowledge of French, German, or Italian; who could dance, dress tastefully, and were competent to take a share in the entertainment of an evening-party; and on the other were to place the names of those who well understood the humbler arts of managing a household; directing the conduct of their servants; controlling family expenditure; and last, though by no means least, that important duty of nursing and comforting the sick, and shedding sunlight over the chamber of the invalid-how lamentably small would be the number of those whose place was in this latter column in comparison with those who made a good figure in the former!

It is not that we would by any means discourage our countrywomen from the pursuit of those branches of study we have named, or from that of any others which would conduce to the cultivation of their minds and talents, or give them pleasant occupation for a leisure hour. We do not desire to see the daughters of our land return to the habits of ancient days, when to superintend the labours of the still-room, the kitchen, and the embroidery-frame, alternated with repeating Aves and Credos, and dressing the wounds of captive knights-nor would we have them like the modern Berezovian women of whom we are told in that amusing work, Revelations of Siberia by a Banished Lady: 'The culinary art constitutes the principal branch of

education among the fair sex, and far from blushing when detected in this employment, they pride themselves on their proficiency in it as the highest of female accomplishments.' This would certainly a little exceed our wishes; but we do not perceive why an art so very important to household comfort should be wholly neglected. It would be amusing to observe what would be the effects of a law enforcing 'that no lady under the grade of the titled aristocracy should be permitted to enter into the matrimonial state until she had creditably passed such an examination as should satisfy competent authorities that she possessed a sufficient degree of knowledge in all points connected with household economy, to entitle her to a certificate of her capability "of discreetly conducting a family, and directing its management in the parlour, the kitchen, and the nursery." Under such a regulation, how busy would the young ladies be in studying the art of cookery; and if, in addition, the following Berezovian rule were adopted in our land, how eagerly would their fair hands dabble amongst flour and butter, preserves and pickles! The rule to which we allude is, that 'every young bride on her arrival at her husband's house must invite guests to a dinner prepared by her own hands, and this repast is considered as a test of the education she has received at her parents' house. Shame and disgrace are the consequences should she be found deficient on such an occasion, and shame also to the parents who did not attend to that essential branch of her education.' But this is not what we desire. We would not thus occupy the whole of a woman's time; but we would have every female well consider whether in making a good knowledge of modern languages, or a skilful performance on the harp or piano, the first object, or even the second in her children's education, she is doing her duty: whether she is leading them to fulfil the object of family relationships and social bonds.

It is no new remark amongst thinking people, that to attach an undue value to the elegances of education is an error at present but too prevalent in all classes of society; and it is a fact which daily presses itself on our notice, that the young females in most families, however competent they may be to amuse a gay circle by their well-cultivated talents and highly-informed minds, are sadly deficient in the details of common life: needle-work is neglected, a knowledge of housekeeping undervalued, whilst even the humblest degree of insight into the practice of cookery is absolutely scouted. As to the art of nursing the sick, it is one so absolutely unknown to young ladies, that though the loving daughter or sister may evidently desire to take the charge of her suffering relatives' comfort, she sorrowfully feels that none of her early instructions or habits have tended to prepare her for this, the dearest task of women; and she withdraws from the effort, seeing that the hired nurse, or the lowest servant in the household, performs those coveted duties more quietly and satisfactorily to the poor sufferers than herself, inexperienced and untaught as she is.

There are more qualifications requisite to the formation of the character of a good nurse than would at first sight be supposed. Patience, firmness, self-denial, all are important graces for her to possess who would fill that office well; but there are several other requisites. Sound judgment and delicate tact are most valuable adjuncts, and a quiet, cheerful spirit is inestimable both to the patient and the nurse herself.

Everything about a sick-room should wear an air of cheerful repose. In what degree the appearance of cheerfulness should prevail must depend on the nature of the patient's case; but that bright fairy should always be there, and ready to display herself when permitted; for although the acuteness of disease may be such as to require that an extreme of quietude and stillness should reign throughout the apartment and over all around it, yet lugubrious faces and dismal tones are never welcome to a sick person, and are more likely to distress and injure him than even an undue amount of gaiety. With a view to this most desirable end, 'cheerful repose,' be very careful that the chamber over which you, in your capacity of nurse, are to rule, shall always present as much as is possible of a pleasant and comfortable aspect. Never allow any cups, basins, or other relics of meals, to remain in the chamber. A sick-room, littered with such utensils, with an unswept hearth, and a couch or bed disarranged and untidy, is an unpleasant spectacle to every one, and tends to anything but cheerfulness.

How different is our feeling on entering a room where, if in winter, we see a clear bright fire burning in the grate; or in summer, an open window and a vase of fresh flowers, a table with a little work, and a few books, together with clean linen on the bed, and unsullied purity around, all indicating that a watchful eye and a friendly hand has been there-from that which we experience when dirty cups and jugs, a dusty hearth, and an array of medicine-bottles and powder-papers meet our eye, and tell of nothing but sickness and neglect. We have spoken of flowers in the sickchamber, and it is well that they should be there; for nothing gives so cheerful and lifelike an aspect to a room as a glass of bright and well-arranged flowers; but it must be only during the day they should be suffered there. By day, flowers are wholesome and cheering friends, but at night they are deadly enemies; and for this reason: during the hours in which light prevails, all vegetables throw out that gas so highly important to animal life-oxygen, and absorb that of which an undue amount is most deleterious-carbonic acid. Under these circumstances, they are friends; but in the hours when darkness reigns, then they reverse the order they have before observed, and absorb from the atmosphere the oxygen, returning to it the carbon. For this reason, no flowers or growing-plants should ever be kept in a sleeping-room at night, but more especially in one where an invalid reposes. No very lusciously scented blossoms, however, should at any time be allowed a place in the sick-chamber. Jasmines, lilies, heliotropes, and others, which exhale a heavy and rich fragrance, must, alas! be excluded; but carnations, geraniums, a rose or two, mignonette, and other aromatic scented flowers, will afford a safe enjoyment, and acting as a reminder of God's beautiful creation in the garden and the field, will supply to the poor sufferer a fund of wholesome and refreshing thought. But they should be daily renewed, and not even allowed to stand long in the same water, as-especially in hot weatherthe stems are apt to induce putridity and an offensive smell, which must of course be injurious.

A constant systematic attention to the management of light, temperature, ventilation, sound, and motion, are all important to the comfort and wellbeing of your charge. As much light as the patient can bear without a feeling of distress, should always be admitted into a sick-room. Doubtless, when the eye or the brain is affected, this will be but little: in such cases, the medical attendant will of course dictate; but in ordinary cases, light is beneficial, not only as adding to the cheerful appearance of the room, but as a chemical agent in purifying the atmosphere, and restoring it to a healthy state. Care should, nevertheless, be taken that no overbright light, either reflected or otherwise, should

be allowed to fall either on the eyes of the patient, or on any lustrous object within his sight, as that is sure to annoy. A candle inadvertently set down so that its rays may be reflected by a mirror or any other shining object within his range of vision, will be as likely to disturb a sick person as the sight of the candle itself. A similar degree of precaution should be used lest flickering lights from the fire should harass him.

An

A careful watch should be kept also over the temperature and the ventilation of a sick-chamber. overheated room, or one in which the air has been allowed to become stagnant and loaded, is more injurious to the sensitive invalid than can well be conceived. Sixty degrees of Fahrenheit seems the highest standard of heat suitable for most invalids. There should always be either a fire or an open window or door, so that the air may be frequently changed in the room; yet great care should be taken that the patient is not exposed to draughts of cold air. A little management will easily effect this in most chambers; but if the weather or other cause should render it undesirable to keep either door or window open for any length of time together, one or other of them may be set a little ajar for a few minutes once in two or three hours, which will effect your purpose.

With regard to sound, you can scarcely be too careful -we do not mean that unbroken silence and stillness should be observed: this may be needful in some cases, but ordinarily it would be undesirable, and would prove oppressive to the patient. A nurse who possesses the charm of a serene and mild countenance, a cheering smile, and a soft clear voice, is always the most welcome in a sick-room. You should never whisper either to the patient or to any one in the room; but always draw near to the person you are addressing, so as to be easily heard, and speak in a distinct and audible, though low-toned voice; and having asked a question, give your full attention to the reply, so that you may catch the meaning at once, and then act, if possible, without further interlocution. Avoid all irritating noises, and especially eschew silk gowns which rustle, and shoes which creak or tap the ground in walking: we have known a person ill with fever rendered delirious by the former cause, and rave of nothing but his nurse's silk gown for hours. Never make a bustle in the room. If you have occasion to call on an attendant to arrange any matters in the apartment, always give your directions out of hearing of its inmate, and then guide your assistant in performing your wishes by signs and single words rather than prolonged directions. Nothing worries more than the shaking of curtains, and knocking about of pans and brushes, that sometimes accompany a 'putting to rights.' If you take charge at night, or if your patient is nervous and sensitive of sound, have a cloth on your table, so that no clatter of putting down scissors, snuffers, or other articles, may assail his ears or break his slumbers. But one of the greatest triumphs of a skilful nurse is to manage her fire noiselessly, so as to supply it with fuel and keep it alive and bright. It is quite possible to do this, and to maintain a good fire throughout the night without making any sound that would awake the lightest sleeper-we have ourselves often achieved this feat, and consider it one that reflects more credit on us than most things in which we have been concerned. But to compass this end, a lady must stoop very low indeed! even so low as to condescend to lift every bit of the coal with her own delicate fingers, and with them to push the jetty lumps into the place in the fire where their presence is most needed. She may put on gloves if she pleases

and certainly she will be wise to do so; but if she wishes to be successful in keeping in her fire quietly, she must utterly ignore the existence of those noisy implements, the tongs and shovel. But how is she to stir the fire? how to clear the lower bar from the