one soul from inevitable perdition, little heeded those passionate sobs, that eloquent dread; little heeded that burning desire for the first salvation of another. He never thought that, for love, the young girl had forsworn herself; that, for love, she had lied unto him, her own soul, and their God; and committed the grievous sin which might never be forgiven. All the human feelings were deadened,--all the human wisdom mute. The servant of the Most High, His business, alone, was to be done; and Saint Anthony, taking the sand in his parched and trembling hand, scattered it upon the head of the slave, uttering his benediction, and his reception of her into the Holy Church. And all unfit as she was, Myrrha was consecrated unto Christ. Silently the girl knelt, and suffered the ceremony to be performed; silently, she allowed the sands, which seemed to scorch her as they fell, to rest upon her sleek tresses, at once emblems and marks of her perjury; silently she heard herself vowed to a faith which she neither understood, nor believed; and silently she muttered, when the cross was hung round her bending neck, "Oh, great Zeus,-father of all,-oh, ye dread Errinnyes,-Nemesis, thou fearful avenger,-judge me not too harshly! Eros, brightest and best of the friends of man, plead for me to the offended, and, by thy power, gain me pardon for this sin!" And thus, the religious zeal which would not acknowledge the claims of humanity, when following an accursed way, led to the most fearful crime of the human heart, the source of its worst evils-deceit before Heaven. "And now, come! come, quickly!" cried the young girl, seizing the saint's hand; while her eyes, wild and haggard with fatigue, burnt with a fierce excitement, more painful than the dullest gaze. "I will lead thee to him; thou wilt save him,-save him from his enemy,-for the sake of thy newly-born child?" And then she kissed the hand she held feverishly; and her hot tears came upon it. "thou "Thou art weary, my poor child," returned the saint, kindly; hast travelled far and long. I did not mark thy stained robe, thy bleeding feet, nor pallid cheek; thou shalt not return until thou art refreshed; for thou art now my daughter in the church." "Refreshment for me? Delay? Oh, no! My father, thou wouldst slay me! My sole refreshment is onward!-onward!-through danger and through toil;--on, on, to the prison cell of distress! Come!-we are but one day's journey from the island. See! I have crossed the Nile, -I have tracked thee through the wild desert, alone,-I have braved the noonday sun,-I have looked on death, to save him. Thou wilt not let thy manhood blush before thy frail child's strength? On, on! Let us away, like the lightnings which speed from the starry throne!-away, away, to the island of Philoë!" "And lead gently the young lambs," said the saint, under his breath. But it was in vain that she thus pieaded for an instant return. With all, and more than all, a father's kindness, he forced her into the cave which formed his dwelling; and would not suffer her to move, until she had rested, and been refreshed with such simple, anchorite's fare, as he had to offer. And, in a few moments, worn out with all that she had suffered and felt, the young Greek lay buried in a deep sleep. When she awoke, the sun was high in the mid-heavens; and thus, the saint again forbad her to leave the cave until the cool evening had settled on the burning sky, and the moon had come forth, to light them on their way. Three days must, therefore, elapse before the young girl could redeem the promise of Oëri, and of herself,-before she could stand beside the hapless pair, and restore them to freedom, to love, and to life. And during this time what butcheries might not have been done! Oh! nor rare, nor condemned, are these religious sins against humanity. Seldom does the man, who is deeply imbued with one particular creed, receive that wider, grander, nobler creed, of the Universality of Truththe supremacy of love, which is Mercy! It was strange to see the Christian father's care for the despised Greek slave, now that she had been received into the adoption of his faith. Had she been the dearest offspring of his love, he had not been more tenderly mindful of her. But before those words of baptism had been repeated, was she not a thing vile in his sight,—an outcast,—detested,— revolting, for whom there was no mercy in heaven, no place on earth? But it was his faith; and it must be true and good to think that a word can change the nature, or that difference of creeds annuls the law of charity. On the way, the saint endeavoured to teach the young girl some of the sublime truths of his religion. But she, though she meekly heard, and dutifully repeated, words which he taught her, neither received into her heart, nor even into her memory, any thing of that which ought to have been so precious. Her thoughts were in the dungeon-cell of Zimnis ;— her greatest effort of virtue, the struggling with her own love,-the resolving to set him free, and to bind him, then, to Oëri. For though she would have shrunk from such profanity had the love been of a virgin sworn to the pure Hestia of her own fanes, yet of what worth were the vows of a false creed? They might be broken; and Zeus would never heed the perjury; the Errinnyes would never pursue the offender! And thus the very child in wisdom bounds the all of truth to his faith! WHY IS THY PILLOW WET WITH TEARS? BY CAROLINE DE CRESPIGNY. WHY is thy pillow wet with tear on tear? Angel of life! my dove-ah! woe is me, I would not charm it with one minstrel tone, ASSAM AND THE HILL TRIBES. THE valleys of the Burramputer and its tributaries, with their framework of mountains, constituting, as they now do, a kind of detached and half-reduced province of the Anglo-Indian Empire, are replete with interest and novelty. The great river itself presents very marked peculiarities. In the rainy season it resembles a sea, and extends for miles over the country: in the dry season it still, even in Upper Assam, averages a mile in width, possesses a current much more rapid than the Ganges, and is divided into numberless channels by an infinitude of islands and sand-banks, which, as well as the bed of the river, are strewed with immense trees. The territory watered by this great river consists of jungle, woods, and hills, which are tenanted by few human beings, but instead of such, are overrun by elephants, buffaloes, rhinoceroses, tigers, wild boars, and deer, or infested with crocodiles and boa-constrictors, and other colossal denizens-quadruped and reptilian-of an intertropical luxuriance of marsh and forest, which is scarcely inhabitable even by the aboriginal race of men, and is almost certainly fatal to the civilised intruder. The mountainous regions are composed, on the one hand, of the lofty snow-clad ranges which are the easterly continuation of the great Himmaleh, stretching onwards to the "flowery land;" on the other, of forest-clad hills and rocks, which separate Assam from Birmah, or the valley of the Burramputer, from that of the Irawaddi. These various mountain regions, equally difficult of access, are, like the plains, but thinly peopled, and that with hardy, wild, and fierce tribes, among whom are to be found-as for example, among the hideous Nagas, who go naked, tatoo their skins, expose their dead, and eat reptiles and vermin-some probably of the most savage human beings to be found on the whole face of the earth. Such is the field for inquiry and discovery, and for improvement and amelioration, which is presented to us by this remarkable and little known country, and which is evidently as yet only in a state preparatory for human occupation. The account given to us in the "Sketch Assam," if not satisfactory in every point of view, is still more perfect than any that has preceded it. It is exceedingly brief in all that relates to personal experience, and scanty in scientific information, but it contains carefully compiled and detailed accounts of the various tribes, of their history and origin, and of their manners and habits, and which, being illustrated by coloured drawings, carry the reader at once to the scene of description, and convert the author's pen and pencil sketches into real contributions to ethnological knowledge. The town of Goalparah, situated at the entrance of Assam, is built wholly of mats, grass, bamboos, and reeds. It is placed on the left bank of the river, and is subject to annual inundations. The population is estimated at seven thousand, and an extensive and lucrative trade is carried on in cloths of English and Indian manufacture; rice, mustard-seed, A Sketch of Assam: with some Account of the Hill Tribes. By an Officer in the Hon. East India Company's Bengal Native Infantry, in Civil Employ. Smith, Elder, and Co. cotton, &c. The three bungalows or ground-floor cottages which compose the military station, are placed on the summit of an adjacent hill, 300 feet high, but notwithstanding this precaution, "unless endowed with great stamina," says our author, "life is here frequently extinguished by jungle fever in the course of a few days." It is six days' journey by water from Goalparah to Gowhalty, which is the metropolis of Assam. Here, as elsewhere, on the Burramputer, the native town is built entirely of bamboos, reeds, and grass. To the south an extensive marsh almost surrounds the whole station, and the contiguity of many old tanks, choked with jungle, coupled with the vicinity of the hills, renders this town one of the most insalubrious in Assam. Many improvements have, however, been already effected. Much has been accomplished towards rendering the station more salubrious by the removal of jungle and the construction of roads, many buildings of brick have been erected, and the foundation of a church has been laid, while numerous native shops evince an increase of prosperity. "The view of the river," the author says, "the islands, temples, and verdant foliage of the trees, forms, perhaps, one of the most picturesque scenes to be met with in India." It is a pity, if so, that the depressing effects of the climate should be so irresistible for any length of time, and that the noxious exhalations from the marshes are of so deadly a character. Beyond Gowhalty the river is navigated in canoes, formed of single trees hollowed out, covered in with a small mat roof. Eighteen merry paddlers, like the Canadian voyageurs, enlivening their toil with song, got over forty or fifty miles a day; but the scenery, if not positively devoid of picturesque beauty, wearied the eye by its monotonous character. Sand-banks, woods, and hills, unvaried by the residence of man, or the slightest token of civilisation, constitute the leading features. Occasionally a boat may be encountered, but, excepting from the rude salutation of the wild crew, the screaming of wild fowl, and the loud crash of falling banks, prostrating lofty trees in the bosom of the river, not a sound is heard to relieve the prevailing solitude. The stations of Fezpore and Bishnath are described as at once pretty and healthy--we suppose comparatively healthy is meant. Arrived at the 'junction of the Dikhoo, the author mounted an elephant and rode through a dense tree and grass jungle to Seebsaugur, a station in a low, flat country, subject to inundations, and twelve miles distant from the Burramputer. This station has risen upon the ruins of Rungpore, whose ruinous fort still exists upon the opposite side of the Dikhoo river. There are several large artificial tanks, and one or two fine old Hindu temples in and about the station. Resuming the ascent of the Burramputer, the next station was that of Dibroo Ghur, the residence of the political agent of Upper Assam, and a seat of cultivation of the Assam tea; and beyond this, and seven days' journey from Seebsaugur, the author arrived at his destination, the station of Saikwah, which is the north-eastern frontier military post in Assam. This station was selected as a military post in 1839, immediately after the station of Suddeah, to the north, had been surprised and burnt by the neighbouring tribes. It is situated on the south bank of the Burramputer, on low ground, intersected by numerous streams, having the Bisnacorie and the Saikwah streams on the west and east, and surrounded with dense high tree-jungle. A space of about one thousand square yards has been cleared for the comfort of the troops, but still it is by no means so desirable a station for health as Suddeah, which is in an open plain of six miles in extent. Add to these trifling inconveniences that this desolate spot is surrounded by fierce and treacherous tribes, who occupy a most impenatrable tree and grass-jungle, and whose endeavours are perpetually directed to the annihilation of the troops. "At first," says the gallant author," the hourly patrol's grand rounds and alarms allowed me little rest or ease, but the alertness of the troops in getting under arms at night to repel any meditated attack soon obliterated from my mind all apprehension of surprise. The Assam light infantry wish for nothing better than an opportunity of contending with the Singpoohs, or indeed with any of their treacherous neighbours (whom they hold in the utmost contempt), in a fair battle in the open country; but in the jungles they find it almost impossible to come in contact with their foes." No sooner had the author plastered a mat and grass cottage with mud, than he was obliged to abandon it to an enormous boa, which took possession of the interior, and was only destroyed by blows inflicted with long poles. Snakes, insects, and vermin innumerable also descended from the roof into the rooms. But the author was of that happy temperament and contented disposition which secured him from all feelings of discomfort, and probably also from the same reason from sickness and ill-health. "The reader," he says, " will suppose an Assam mat-hut to be a dreary kind of residence; but I can assure him the log-wood fire on a hearth one foot high in the centre of the room, with a small window cut high in the wall for the escape of the smoke, is by no means devoid of cheerfulness." The general characteristic of the climate of Upper Assam is excessive moisture. Rains fall heavily and frequently during eight months of the year, and during the dry season, that is from October to February, the atmosphere is cool and pleasant. The various tribes living in the jungle and plains grow a scanty supply of rice, Indian corn, and vetches, but they live during greater part of the year on the leaves of a kind of arrow root, and on wild yams. Burpetah, whither the author proceeded on duty for eight months, is described as consisting of huts erected on high artificial mounds of earth, in the centre of gardens of betel nut and plantain trees, clumps of bamboos, cane and grass jungle, mango and other large trees, under the shade of which, impervious to the sun, roads and water channels intersect the town in every direction. The notion of a positive focus of disease is presented to the mind by such a description. The country, as previously remarked, is infested with wild animals, and the foot paths are dangerous at all times. Some slight idea may be formed of the danger to human life from the denizens of the jungle, when it is stated that in the western quarter of the Kamrup district alone, in the short period of six months, the police reports included twenty men killed by wild elephants and buffaloes. Government bestows in consequence a reward of five shillings for every buffalo destroyed, and ten for every tiger. In spring the natives fire the jungle, and the awful roar and rapidity with which the flames spread, and the destruction of animal life, is inconceivable. But so rapid is vegetation in this hot and moist valley, that a few days suffice to bring about the usual aspect of things. In Assam the land is never manured nor suffered to lie fallow. Rice is |