offerings had procured a reply from the reluctant deity, but it was one that plunged the nation in grief. Woe was denounced to the land of Egypt! The reign of its beloved sovereign was to last but seven years, and desolation was to follow his decease! Mycerinus, angry at the unjust decree, summoned his sages and magicians before him, and demanded why the guilty reigns of his predecessors had been long and prosperous, whilst his was to end ere it had well begun. The astrologers gazed on each other without speaking; nor was there one who could answer the important question. The king, enraged at their silence and want of skill, commanded them from his presence, in order that he might consult the stars respecting an expedition. he purposed sending to the oracle of Ammon, nine days' journey across the deserts of Lybia, with the hope of obtaining from thence a more favourable reply. He then ordered another embassy to depart for Butus, laden with fresh conciliatory gifts, to bring back, on pain of death, the reason of the cruel words the oracle had spoken. After which, retiring into the depths of his palace, he lamented and wept, refusing to hear the voice of the comforters, who reminded him of all his good and virtuous deeds, and swore the gods must listen to the prayers of one who had restored their ancient glory and renown. Mycerinus had indeed revived the worship of the gods, and renewed with double splendour their mystic ceremonies, so long neglected. He had opened and endowed with fresh magnificence, the temples of Apis, Isis, and the Sun. The trembling victim once more bled before the gilded altar; and he had celebrated with the greatest pomp, that ceremony, so grateful to the powerful deity of the Nile, who in return had sent his fertilizing waves more plenteously than ever over the fevered land. This sacrifice (for such it was, though many were eager to be chosen the destined victim, so great was the honour esteemed), was called the marriage of the Nile. The bride was chosen by lot, from among the fairest of the land; for which purpose every beautiful and high-born virgin, on a certain day, placed a papyrus leaf inscribed with her name, in a vase appropriated to the purpose, and she whose scroll was selected by the gods, was hailed the River Queen. For sixty days did all the priests and nobles bow before her. The richest gifts were laid at her feet, and her very eyebeam falling on the new-born babe secured its future fame. But when these few short days of adoration and delight were over, the fatal wreath of lotus was twined around her brow-the mystic ring was placed on her finger, and, amid the shouts and acclamations of the superstitious multitude, the hapless maiden was plunged into the remorseless river, to rise no more from her cold bed. Under the sway of this righteous king, the bodies of the mighty nobles were again brought to repose in the city of the dead, near Memphis, that their bones might rest in the same spot where the remains of Great Osiris were so highly honoured; while their departed souls were wafted to the eternal spheres above, and their memory consecrated by the prayers and offerings of the priests, who yearly passed through mazy labyrinths hollowed under the channel of the Nile to the otherwise inaccessible isle, which rose before the two colossal porphyry sphinxes and brazen bars of the water gate of the city. Here they crowned its sepulchre with blooming wreaths of flowers, chanting the hymn of the dead beneath the sacred branches of its solitary and wide spreading tree; and yet, though the perfumed smoke of incense and the voice of prayer rose high to heaven, the sound of lamentation was echoed through the land, and heard by all, save one. Mycerinus spoke not of the sad tidings to his only and well-beloved child, the beautiful Nementhis; he deemed that sorrow was a feeling too much of earth, to approach one so pure and lovely. Fairest and best among the daughters of Egypt, her beauty yielded not the palm to that bright "stranger Venus," whose shrine appeared conspicuous with its golden fretwork in the splendid fane which Proteus raised, when Trojan Paris brought Helena to the Egyptian court. The wind gently whispered through the foliage of the regal gardens, and was answered by the slow gurgling of the stream, which strove faintly with the innumerable arches beneath. These gardens were raised upon piles * driven deep into the bed of the river, and extended over a space of five hundred arouras. Above, were verdant bowers of rose, acacia, jasmine and citron; and long avenues of the dark sycamore, the golden orange, and the figtree with its azure fruit. Beneath was a vast hall, the roof of which was supported by massive columns of basalt, reflected in the green waters of the Nile, which formed the only pavement to this unequalled structure. In the centre of its labyrinth of sombre pillars was a large dome, open at the top, and surrounded by a balustrade of vivid blue and gold, permitting the eye to wander to the far higher and more brilliant dome above, which surmounted the garden pavilion. Through this opening, and springing almost to the summit of the second dome, rose a fountain; which, till it reached its destined height, was one unbroken column of water; then spreading itself into a sparkling shower, it fell like a silver veil beyond the balustrade; and was received in a perforated trough within the pavilion. This fairy temple was paved with rich mosaic work, extending to the golden bases of forty pillars of polished rose-coloured granite, which supported the dome above; their capitols were likewise of wrought gold curiously beaten into lotus flowers, intermingling one with the other, and forming a wreath of foliage around the *Aroura is half an acre. dome, which like the balustrade was of the same precious metal, enamelled with azure. Forty steps of porphyry led from this pavilion into the luxurious garden, called from the perpetual and lulling sound of the waters beneath, the Garden of Dreams. On the steps around the saloon of the fountain, lay sleeping on cushions, the maidens and attendant nymphs of the princess Nementhis, who herself reposed within the building on a mattress of rose-leaves, the sweetest in the world. Robed in a loose dress of the finest linen, curiously wrought in gold and needlework, her rich bracelets of engraven gems scattered among the flowers she had thrown upon the tessellated pavement, and her beautiful head resting on fragrant pillows, she lay dreaming the lingering hours away. In her slumber she fancied she saw a splendid but unroofed temple, of which the varied beauty might have caught her eye, had it not rested on the figure of a blooming youth, around whose head was twined the golden serpent crown, the emblem of immortality. There was an aërial grace in the apparition, such as is found in dreams alone, as pointing to his natal star above with a radiant smile, the figure invited her to follow, and she sprang forward to obey; but ere she reached the spot, a rush of many waters sounded on her ear and divided her from the figure, which seemed to melt into air, and was lost amid the wild waves that now surrounded and gained fast upon |