fed that day as guests of the college. There
were upwards of fifty sheep roasted whole and
stuffed with rice, while of pillaf—rice boiled in
butter—there were brought to the ground many
huge full caldrons—in each of which a man
could have stood upright with ease; and of
bread—Arab round cakes—there must have
been some forty mule–loads. There was no
scrambling or confusion. The multitude was
divided off into fifty parties, twenty men in
each party. In the middle of each twenty
was placed a roasted sheep, a mountain of rice
pillaf, and a mule–load of bread. Each man
pulled out his knife, and ejaculating, "In the
name of God!" began to eat. When he had
eaten enough—and Arabs eat fast—he put up
his knife with a "God be praised!" rose up
from the ground where he had been sitting
cross–legged, and one of the bystanders
immediately took his place. In less than an
hour the whole multitude had eaten, and were
smoking their pipes under the shadow of
the trees, while of the huge amount of
provender it would have puzzled any one to find
enough to breakfast a poodle dog. Such a huge
meal, so quickly consumed with complete order,
it has never been my fate to see.

In the course of the afternoon Daoud Pasha
prepared to return to Beit–ed–Deen. He pressed
our party to accompany him, but our time was
short, and we could not avail ourselves of his
hospitality. As he started to return home, we
turned our faces down the mountain towards
the sea and Beyrout.

A BEATEN ARMY.

WE have struck our last blow, we have spent our last shot, now,
And we pour here, in protest, the last drops of life.
All, save man's honest right, we have lost, they have got, now,
And theirs is the triumph where ours was the strife.

Ours the blood on the bastion: our foeman's the flag there:
His the soil of our birth: ours the graves he insults:
And our brave dead are mute while their murderers brag there,
Of crimes praised on earth for successful results.

Here, where heroes are vanquisht, where cravens are victors,
Where the Wronger's the Judge, Truth appeals unto God;
While Justice, preceded no more by her lictors,
Is, herself, now pursued by the axe and the rod.

Be it so! though right trampled be counted for wrong,
And that pass for right which is evil victorious,
Here, where Virtue is feeble, and Villany strong,
'Tis a cause, not the fate of a cause, should be glorious.

Earth's success, at the purest, with stain of the earthy
Leaves the white worth of Truth, where it touches it, less:
But worth has success in the cause that's unworthy?
We have fail'd?  Be it so! We are pure of success

And so Earth puts upon us no claim to diminish
Our claim upon God, which is perfected thus.
Here our least gain begins, where their greatest must finish:
Earth's gains claiming them, God's debt owing to us!

Graves are better than crowns thus. Oh ever and ever
This bartering Eternity's birthright to Time!
God, we give thee unblemisht our frustrate endeavour:
Earth, we leave thee unchallenged Hell's Triumph, man's crime!

ON CIRCUIT.

WE have received the following from a
trustworthy correspondent:

Sir. There are few evils harder to bear than
those which we know for certain that a future
age will be free from: grievances, the result of
some preposterous system which must go to
the wall sooner or later, and which might just as
well go there at once. It seems such a pity that
those things which everybody wants done, and
which everybody knows will be done some day,
should not be done now. Everybody knows
that the Papacy is doomed, yet still the Italians
are kept chafing under the inconvenience of a
divided kingdom. Everybody knows that the
American Union is over for ever, and yet the
war goes on. Reform is a plant of slow growth;
it is the especial function of the Press to force
it. Therefore it is, sir, that, having a reform of
some importance to propose, I solicit your aid
in bringing it about.

The reform of which I speak, is not one of an
altogether public nature. The persons to be
benefited by it, form only one class of the
community, and represent only a section of society;
but, I think, neither a small, nor an unimportant
one. To cut short all further preamble, I am
ready to shorten the case by admitting at once
that I am a barrister. It is a barrister's grievance
to which I call attention. I am going to
plead for the pleader, and to advocate the cause
of the advocate.

You are doubtless aware, sir, that many, many
years ago, in that dark period of our history to
which allusion is sometimes made as the "good
old time," it was the custom of the fraternity
which I represent to travel from town to town,
when on circuit, either on horseback or in private
carriages, while the attorneys who attended the
circuit made use of public conveyances to carry
them from place to place. It is needless to say
that in these days of railroads there is an end of
this arrangement. The same train conveys the
barrister and the attorney each to his destination
at the assize town, and they can even travel,
if they like, in the same carriage. The reason
why these two classes were kept asunder
formerly, was, that it was apprehended that they