As Bruce's residence in Abyssinia is now rapidly drawing to a close, one may pause to observe of what honest materials his character seems to have been composed. Personal courage, that gem of the human breast, which, however roughly set, is brilliant even in the rude conduct of the savage, shines with unusual lustre in Bruce's life; while his gratitude to Captain Price, his friendship for those with whom he lived, his loyalty to his king, his attachment to Scotland, his native country, his respect for his ancestors, and other similar sentiments which we have seen constantly escape from him, prove him to have been eminently a sound-hearted man. Two days previous to his departure, our traveller called to take leave of the iteghe, and found there Tensa Christos, one of the chief priests of Gondar. Bruce replied with great dignity and firmness to several impertinent questions put to him concerning his religion by this man. "And now, holy father," he said, "I have one last favour to ask of you, which is your forgiveness, if I have at any time offended you; your blessing, now that I am immediately to depart, if I have it not; and your prayers while on my long and dangerous journey through countries of infidels and pagans." A hum of applause sounded throughout the room. Tensa Christos was apparently surprised at Bruce's humility, and cried out, with tears in his eyes, "Is it possible, Yagoube, that you believe my prayers can do you any good?" "I should not be a Christian, as I profess to be, father," replied Bruce, "if I had any doubt of the effect of good men's prayers." So saying, Bruce stooped to kiss the hand of Christos, who laid a small iron cross upon his head, and, to his great surprise, instead of a benediction, repeated the Lord's prayer. After which Bruce made his obeisance to the iteghe, and immediately withdrew, it not being the custom at a public audience to salute any one in the presence of the sovereign. "Twenty greasy monks," says Bruce, "however, had placed themselves in my way as I went out, that they might have the credit of giving me their blessing likewise after Tensa Christos. As I had very little faith in the prayers of these drones, so I had some reluctance to kiss their greasy hands and sleeves; however, in running this disagreeable gauntlet, I thus gave them my blessing in English: Lord send you all a halter, as he did to Abba Salama (meaning the Acab Saat). But they, thinking I was recommending them to the patriarch Abba Salama, pronounced at random, with great seeming devotion, 'Amen! so be it.'" This serio-comical valedictory malediction, which Bruce bequeaths to "twenty greasy monks of Koscam," abruptly closes his history of Abyssinia, and upon the distant sources of the Nile the curtain now drops! More than half a century has elapsed, and no one has raised the veil which Bruce lifted up; no one has penetrated the mist through which he found his way, or encountered the dangers which he overcame.