y can get fruit
when grain is too dear.

"The guests continued at table till late, during which time several
gentlemen rose and spoke: but, from my imperfect knowledge of the language,
I could not comprehend their purports beyond the compliments which they
passed on each other, and the evident attacks which they made on their
political opponents. I at last retired with some others to another room,
where many of the guests were dancing--coffee and tea were here taken
about, just as sherbets are with us in the Mohurrum. I must remark that
the servants were gorgeously dressed, being covered with gold like the
generals of the army; but the most extraordinary thing about them was,
there having their heads covered with ashes, like the Hindoo fakirs-a
custom indicative with us of sorrow and repentance. I hardly could help
laughing when I looked at them; but a friend kindly explained to me that,
in England, none but the servants of the great are _privileged_ to have
ashes strewed on their heads, and that for this distinction their masters
actually pay a tax to government! 'Is this enjoined by their religion?'
said I. 'Oh no!' he replied. 'Then,' said I, 'since your religion does not
require it, and it appears, to our notions at least, rather a mark of
grief and mourning, where is the use of paying a tax for it?' '_it is the
custom of the country_.' said he again. After this I returned hone, musing
deeply on what I had seen."

With this inimitable sketch, we take leave of the Khan for the present,
shortly to return to his ideas of men and manners in _Feringhistan_.

* * * * *

THE BANKING-HOUSE.

A HISTORY IN THREE PARTS. PART I.

CHAPTER I.

PROSPECTIVE.

If, as Wordsworth, that arch-priest of poesy, expresses it, I could place
the gentle reader "_atween the downy wings_" of some beneficent and
willing angel, in one brief instant of time should he be deposited on the
little hill that first discovers the smiling, quiet village of Ellendale.
He would imbibe of beauty more in a breath, a glance, than I can pour into
his soul in pages of spiritless delineation. I cannot charm the eye with
that great stream of liquid light, which, during the long and lingering
summer's day, issues from the valley like an eternal joy; I cannot
fascinate his ear, and soothe his spirit with nature's deep mysterious
sounds, so delicately slender and so soft, that silence fails to be
disturbed, but rathe