_9th._--Rose as the day broke, and started with the first rays of the sun. Continued through the same kind of country, with an addition of a little sand here and there, for five hours, until we arrived at the well of Nijberten, to our great joy, for it is a well of deliciously sweet water. Around the well, I was pleased with the sight of several dark bushes scattered upon the small sand-hills. Anything in the shape of a tree now gladdens the heart. I observe again, that vegetation often springs out of the sand in preference to the hard or even softer earth in The Sahara. A little sand, scattered over the hard earth, and oftener solid rock, enables vegetation to spring up, when the mould of Sahara produces nothing. But there is little or no herbage for camels. Give my nagah the barley which I provided for my own use. People ridicule the choice of Rais Mustapha in the purchase of the camel, and say she will never carry me to Soudan. I'm now writing the journal of yesterday. I can't write every day. Sometimes several days elapse. Often wonder how Denham could write his journal every day, as he asserts. The wind is high and is scattering sand in every direction. Certainly I require no supply of sand when turning over my sheet wet with the ink. Before we get to the water, we are obliged to scoop out the sand as at Mislah. Many pits in Sahara are in this predicament. But we are infinitely more repaid for our pains, for we find most refreshing nectar-like water, as good as the last was bad. I imagine I drank off a full gallon at once. I was praying night and day for this water, and was obliged to go from tent to tent, begging a drop of the water which was left of Nather well, until all the skins were empty of that water. Some of the merchants kept a little in a small skin as a luxury. But I must do our people justice, for seeing I could not drink the Mislah water, they gave me often their sweet water and themselves drank the brackish. I must add, I see no striking moral difference between the people of this Desert caravan, and the people who fill an English mail-coach or a French diligence. Mankind are morally much the same everywhere. The last sixteen centuries have added little or nothing to discovery and amendment in morals, however orthodox we may all have become. Our Christendom has been chiefly occupied in resisting the worst features of the Mosaic economy as engrafted by the corruptions of the Church on the Christian system. The commission to Moses, "to extirpate the Canaanitish tribes," has been the universal war-cry of the dominant party in the Church to burn and empale heretics. There are still many divinity professors who think it right to kill heretics and infidels. The society of the nineteenth century is still eaten up by the most rancorous bigotry, and morality is proportionably at a low ebb. Nevertheless, with all our present Desert hardships, we are an easy journeying caravan; the patience of no one is