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lP © U'l.
CASPER BECERRA.
BY lIEVRY WAD WORTH LONOi'f-.M.OW.
By liis evening fire, the artist
Pondered o’er his secret shame
Baffled, weary ami <U>hcartoned,
Still Ilc o.ved and dreamed of fajne.
’1 was an imago of the Virgin
That had tasked his utmost skill;
But alas! his fair ideal
Vanished and escaped him still.
From a distant Eastern Island
Had the precious wood been brought;—
Day and night the anxious master
At liis toil untiring wrought,
Till discouraged and desponding,
Sat be now in shadows deep ;
And the day’s humiliation
Found oblivion in sleep.
Then a voice eried—“ H iso, O master !
From the burning brand of oak
Shape the thought (hat stirs within thee 1”
And the startled ai tist woke.
Woke, and from the smoking embers
Seised and quenched the glaring wood ;
And therefrom he carved an image,
And he saw that it wasgood.
O thou scu'plor, paint, r, poet!
Take this lesson to thy heart;
That is best which lieth nearest!
Shape from that thy work of art.
STANZAS.
Still fulls the boatman’s oar
Faint comes the cv’ning bell,
As from oil Ibc dusky shore
The cool night-breezes swell!
flow sweet at such an hour
The yellow sands to rove;
The spirit wrapt within the power
< >f dreaming love.
How sweet when youth has gone,
And manhood’s eye looks dim,
To waken up in Memory’s tone,
Love’s own vesper hymn;
To bring back every note,
In early hours we knew,
And, as old voiced round us float,
Believe them to be true.
For Richards’ Weekly CazeUo.
LIFE INSURANCE.
Provision for the Widow and the Orphan.
“If any provide not for his own, and
especially for those of his own house, he
hath denied the laith and is worse than an
infidel.” This strong enforcement of a
Christian duty is not confined to the en
couragement of industry and economy.—
To provide for the daily wants of one's
family is a duty taught not only by revela
tion but by the strongest feelings of our
nature. To do more than this, to antici
pate the future, to lay up in prosperity
a supply for the times of misfortune and
sickness, is a duty we all fee 1 not less
deeply and universally. No arguments
are needed to enforce this course of con
duct. F.vcry one feels it to be right and
proper: every one acts upon it; every one
strives to follow it. The sick and the
poor, and especially those who are neither
rich nor poor, alike approveofthe principle
and endeavor to put it into practice.
How often, however, are our plans frus
trated by death. In such a country as
ours, where the rewards of labor are large
and sure, every one may secure a compe
tence for his family, if his iife or health do
not fail. But how often is the widow left
in want and the orphans in destitution, be
fore the husband or the father has met
with success in his schemes for amassing a
fortune. How often are the family deprived
of their usual comforts, how oflen are
they left in straightened circumstances,
how often do they mourn the hardness of
their lot, because the hand that worked for
tin in is palsied by death, ere it has secured
for them a competence.
Does not every one feel that it is Ins
duty to guard against sttrh a calamitous re
sult, if it he possible. Would not every
one most gladly embrace a scheme to save
the wife and the children that are so near
and dear to him, from suffering or destitu
tion. Would not every one eagerly grasp
at a plan of securing to his children an ed
ucation and a little capital to begin the
world with, should he unfortunately fall
before the attacks of disease or accident,
ere they have grown large cnpttgh to take
care of themselves.
Such is Ihe object of Insuring one's
life, By the payment of a small sum ev
ery year, to the Insurance Company they
bind themselves to pay over to bis widow
ed family a handsome sum at his death.—
A young man pays only 10 or 15 dollars
to secure to them a thousand. So small a
sum be will scarcely miss out of bis year
ly earnings, but the sum insured will be a
handsome one to them at his death. If a
man is older be must pay more.
If lie wishes to make a larger provis
ion than one thousand dollars, his
payments to the company must increase at
the same rate as the amount he wishes to
insure.
Is it not a duty to make this provision
for the future? A man that has learned
a trade or obtained a profession, or secured
in hitnslf a profitable business, has invested
a capital which will ensure provision to
his family as long as he lives. He will be
sure to be able to provide for them if his
life is spared. Why not make another invest
ment and secure to his family a comforta
ble suppott, if his other investments should
fail. He has staked all on his life. If he
live, it will be well for his family. For
tune, comfort, success, honors are theirs.
If he dies, he has nothing, or but little for
thenr, not near the amount lie would like
to leave. Why not provide for this con
>in("i ncy ’ Why not lay by a little annu
ally, to secure .so on; nvtiint an end.
lie may do it -ugly, securely, and as he
must die one day or other, his family
must receive the benefit of it. Even if he
lives to old age, even if he lias met with
success and accumulated a fortune, they
will still receive the benefit of bis pay
ments to the Life Insurance Company. A.
u £)S l?il Sir® [ftla BALJLis AX
Fiom Wkeler't* Magazine—for September.
lIEN H Y WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.
BY .lACQtT.S JOURNOT.
1 Prof. llenuy Wadsworth Longfer
: i.ow was born on tlie 27th day of Febru
ary, 1807, in tlie city ofPortland. lie grad
uated at Bowdoin College in 1825. lie
1 then went to Europe, studied in Gottingen,
1 traveled in France, Spain, Italy, Germany
i and England, and returned to America in
. 1829 During tlie same year lie received
; the professorship of Modern Languages in
{ Bowdoin College, and entered immediate
jly upon his duties. In 1881 lie was mar
i ried. Three or four years after this lie rc
i signed bis professorship, and again visited
Europe. He spent considerable time in
Sweden and Denmark, studying the lan
guages and literature of the Northern na
tions. During this visit to Europe, lie lost
liis wife, who died suddenly at Heidelburg.
J He returned to the United States in 183 G,
j and is now Professor ol the French and
Spanish Languages in Harvard University,
at Cambridge, Mass.
An analysis of Prof. Longfellow’s verse
proves, wc think, that it possesses, and in
generous proportions, too, till the essential
elements of true Poetry, and establishes tlie
claims of its author to a high place among
the poets of our young llepublie. lie has
a fertile imagination, a delicate fancy, deep
feeling, an intense love of the Beautiful
and the Good, a correct and refined taste,
and great artistic abilities. lie enrobes
whatever is pure and noble and heroic, in
the vesture of Beauty, and we arc compel
led to do it homage. lie continually finds
entrance into our consciences, through our
| imaginations. lie makes virtue appear so
I lovely that we turn involuntary from its op
posite. His strains which, at first, captivate
’ us by their sweetness, inspire us, in the
end, with heroic courage to meet the toils
and conflicts of life.
“ The star of tlie unconquevod will,
lie rises in [the] breast,
Serene, ami resolute, an<l still,
And calm, ami self-possessed.'’
Longfellow's imagination is not of the
kind which startles us by its sudden flash
es, or surprises us by its lofty flights. It
never soars to an elevation at which it can
not sustain itself. He never attempts im
possibilities, and what he attempts he accom
plishes. He never sacrifices good taste to
an attempt at dramatic effect. There is no
excitement or fine frenzy about him. Ills
imagination is delicate rather than strong
lie charms us continually, but never as
tonishes.
Longellow’s feeling never finds vent
in wild, passionate ratings. It is deep and
strong, but quiet and gentle—tinged, too,
usually by a kind offender melancholy. It
is ever present, pervading all his produc
tions, but it never obtrudes itself offensive
ly upon our notice.
Nothing perhaps strikes one more forci
bly, in reading the Poetry of Prof. Longfel
low, than the constant appeals it makes to
the moral nature of man. Some critics
have pointed to this characteristic of his
verse as a fault. “He continually preach
es,” say they, “ when he should only sing.”
Hut since the moral which lie never fails to
draw from his subject is never thrust ob
trusively forward, and seems to flow natur
ally, if not necessarily from it, we are in
clined to consider it a merit rather than a
fault. llow felicitously, for instance, lie
evolves its lesson from the “ Psalm of Life,”
a jioem that has infused strength and cour
age into thousands of desponding souls:
“ Lives of great men all remind us
We van make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time.
Footprints that perhaps nnother,
Sailing o'er life’s solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwreck'd brother,
Beeirg shall tal c heart again.
Let us, then, lie up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.”
In the “Light of Stars,” the song and
tlie moral are legitimate parts of a harmo
nious whole, and we do not like the song
the less because it embraces the lesson.—
The appeal of the poet in the last two stan
zas finds a ready response in the bereaved
and desponding soul:
“ And tlmu, too, whosoe'er thou art,
That readest this brief psalm,
As one by one thy hopes depart,
Be resolute and calm.
O, fear not in a world like this,
And thou ."halt knew ere long,
Know ho-.v sublime a thing ii, is
To suffer and bo strong.”
Longff.llow delights to lead ns through
tlie Beautiful to the Good. He summons
before us “ the forms of the departed ”
the “beloved” —the “true-hearted”—the
“ young ” —the “ strong,”
“ And with them the Being Beauteous,
Who unto [his] youth was given,
More than all things else to love [him,]
And is now a saint in heaven.”
and in a moment, under the influence of
si)oia&j3©@ us us air
the lovely vision, we are prepared to echo
the sentiment of the last stanza:
“ O, though oft depressed and lonely,
All my fears arc laid aside,
If I but remember only
Such us the. o have lived and died !”
The artistic skill, the almost unrivalled
command of rhyme and expression, the
nice appreciation of both material and spir
itual harmonies, for which Longfellow lias
been so much and so justly admired are all
well illustrated in the “ Skeleton in Ar
mor,” He here grapples with a very diffi
cult versification, and is entirely successful
throughout in its management. There is
in this poem, also, more nervous energy
and vigor than is usually manifest in his
poetry. We cannot do better than to quote
a few stanzas in illustration of what we
have lit re said.
The poet addresses the mailed skeleton:
“.Speak ! speak! thou fearful guest!
Who, with thy hollow breast
Still in rude armor drest,
Comest to daunt mo !
Wrapt not in Ea-tem balms,
But with thy fleshless palms
Stretched, as if asking alms,
Why dost thou haunt mo 1
Th. n, from those cavernous eyes
Pale flashes seemed to rise,
As when the Northern skies
(Beam in December;
Anil, like the water’s flow
Under December's snow,
Came a dull voice of woe
From the heart’s chamber.”
The form replies, and we seem to hear
sounding from that “hollow breast” the
accents of the old rough Norse speech :
“I was a Viking old !
My deeds, though manifold,
No Skald in song has told,
No Saga taught thee !
Take he and, that in thy verso
Thou dost, the tale rehearse,
Else dread a dead man’s curse !
For this I sought thee.
Far in the Northern Land,
By the wild Bailie’s strand,
I, with my childish hand,
Tamed the gerfalcon;
And, with my skates fast bound,
Skimmed the half-frozen Sound,
That the poor whimpering hound
Trembled to walk on.”
When the old Viking tells the talc of
his love, mark now the verse looses all its
harshness. It now falls upon the car like
the music of silver bells :
“ (tnee as I told in glee
Tales of tlie stormy sea,
Soft eyes did gazo on me,
Burning yet tender;
And ns the white stars shine
On the dark Norway pine,
On that dark heait of wine.
Felt their soft splendor.
I wooed tlm blue-eyed maid.
Yielding, yet half afraid,
And in the forest’s shade
Our vows were plighted.
Under its loosened vest
llnttcrcd her little breast,
I.ike birds within their nest
By the hawk frighted.”
“ Endymion ” is one of the most exquis
itely sweet and graceful lyrics in the En
glish language. Wc consider it one of the
best of Longfellow’s minor poems, and vve
trust wc shall be excused if vve copy it here
in full:
“ The rising moon has hid the stars;
Iter level rays, like gulden bars,
Lie on the landscape green,
With shadows brown between.
And silver white the river gleams,
As if Diana, in her dreams,
Had dropped her silver bow
Upon the meadows low.
On sueh a tranquel night as this.
She woke Endymion w ith a kiss.
When, sleeping in the grove,
He dreamed not of her love.
Like Dian’l kiss, unasked, unsought,
Love gives itself, hut is not bought;
Nor voice nor sound betrays
Its deep, impassioned gaze.
It comes, —the beautiful, the free,
The crown of all humanity,—
In silence and alone
To seek tho elected ono.
11 lifts the boughs, whose shadows deep
Are Life’s oblivion, the soul'ssloep,
A nd kisses the closed eyes
Os him who slumbering lies.
.
O weary hearts! O slumbering eyes !
O drooping souls, whose destinies
A e fraught witli fear and pain,
Yc hall be loved again!
No one is so accursed by fate,
No one so utterly desolate,
But some heart, though unknown.
B esponds unto his own.
Resounds, —as if. with unseen wings.
An angel touched its quivering strings ;
And whispers, in its song,
“ Where hast thou stayed so long !”
“ Maidenhood” is another fine poem in
a similar vein, and wc regret that our lim- i
its will not permit us to copy tliat also.
“The Spanish Student” displays more 1
| fully, perhaps, than any other single poem
the whole scope of Longfellow's ]lower, al
though a- a drama it cannot he rated very
highly.
I Os that delightful poetical romance,
“Uvangeline,” we have not room to speak
adequately, and will therefore refrain from
’ any remarks upon it at this time. Mr.
Longfellow’s prose works, “Outre Mer,”
“Hyperion,” and “ Kavanagb,” we must
also ptiss over without a notice.
\Yu have not spoken of Longfellow’s de
fects as a jsict; nor of the limits of his
style, not became sueh defects and faults
do not exist, but because we choose the
pleasanter task of seeking for merits and
beauties—
“ Seeing only what is fair.
Sipping only what is sweet.”
We have been, like Emerson’s “Hum
, lilc Bee,” who dwell among scented fern,
1 clover-blossoms and roses, and who disdain
ed to see ought but the Beautiful, and to
j whom
“ All beside was unknown waste,
All wis picture as he passed.”
irum; mrjm.
v. - THE
DEAD SEA AND TIIE JORDAN *
BY THE EDITOR.
Wenomised our readers, in our brief no
tice of Lieutenant Lynch's Narrative of
tlie Deid Sea Expedition, to give them, at
an ear’y period, a more extended review of
the \vi rk. That promise we are now about
to redtem.
It is in the highest degree, honorable to
a natim to engage in expeditions of discov
ery or research; and surely no people
shoulc he more emulous of such honor,
than those of the United States—claiming,
as they do, to cherish with the warmest
regard, every species of scientific knowl
edge. An Expedition, moreover, to a re
gion so fraught with historic and sacred
associations as that of the Dead Sea and
the Iliver Jordan, where so many curious
questions might he answered satisfactorily,
and so many conjectures realized or si
lenced—was one, of all others, to engage
the attention of an enterprizing spirit.—
Early in 1847, Lieut. Lynch, of the Amer
ican Navy, made application to the Secre
tary of ihe Navy Department, for permis
sion to explore the Dead Sea and its entire
coast. He presented briefly the advantages
and the cost of such an investigation—the
latter of which could bear no proportion to
the former.
To enhance the value of such an expe
dition in the estimation of the reader, we
may remark here, that the Dead Sea never
had been fully explored up to that time.—
It had been once circumnavigated by Mr.
Costigan, an English traveller, who con
tracted the fever generated by its pestilen
tial vapors in the hot season, and died at
the termination of his voyage. Very little,
therefore, was known of that Sea which
rumor and superstition had invested with
so much gloom and terror; and it offered
no small temptation to research.
At the time of Lieut. Lynch’s applica
tion, the Secretary was directing all his en
ergies to the projected naval attack upon
Vera Cruz; and it was not until after that
plate had surrendered, and Ihe Navy was
at leisure, that his application was re
sponded to. On the 22d of October, he was
ordered to take command of the store-ship
“Supply,” which was to proceed to the
Mediterranean, with stores for the squad
ron under command of Commodore Head.
The economical and judicious management
of the Expedition, is exhibited in the very
outset. The “ Supply” was to remain in
the Mediterranean, to meet the periodical
wants of the squadron. She must, of
course, lie there for months—her officers
and crew, meanwhile, listless and idle.—
How much better to provide her with all
the necessary appliances for a voyage of
research, and putting her under the com
mand of a skilful officer, with a picked
crew, commission them, after visiting Port
Mahon, to proceed up the Levant, and
then, leaving the ship with only the neces
sary complement of men to carry her back
to the squadron, commence that expedition
which promised so much of interest and
value in its results. This was tho course
pursued. Lieut. Lynch selected his party
with great care—provided, moreover, two
metallic boats, for the use of the exploring
party, and shipped ten seamen for their
crews. Everything that could facilitate
the operations of the party, together with
arms, ammunition, and stores, having been
embarked, the “Supply” sailed in Novem
ber for the Mediterranean, with orders, af
ter touching at Port Mahon, to proceed to
Smyrna. This was an important prelimi
nary step to the proposed Expedition, as
the permission of the Turkish Government
for the party to pass through a portion of
its dominions had to be obtained, x or the
whole plan abandoned. This required, of
course, a firman from the Sultan, and made
it necessary for Lieut. Lynch and his party
to visit Constantinople But we will not
anticipate the narrative.
The voyage to Gibraltar was accom
plished in thtcc weeks. During a brief
delay there, the small-pox made its appear
ance on board the ship, and induced the
Commander to sail for Port Mahon imme
diately. Arrived there, the sick officer was
conveyed to the lazaretto, and the ship sub
jected to a thorough fumigation. Provi
dentially, the fell disease did not extend be
yond the first case.
Lieut Lynch sets forth in his work the
great disadvantages of Port Mahon as a
wintering place for our Mediterranean
Squadron. He alleges that its only recom
mendation is its security of anchorage.
♦Narrative of the United States Expedition to
the River Jordan and the Dead Sea. By W. F. :
Lynch, I S. N., Commander of the Expedition. !
With Maps and Numerous Illustrations, i'Lila- j
dolphin : Lea & Blanchard. 1819.
while, on the other hand, it is extremely \
isolated in its position, has a severe winter
climate, and, more than all, abounds in fa- j
cilities for indulging in the lowest vices.— ,
Other points there are, equally secure, and |
far more accessible, where there would be •
fewer temptations and opportunities to ac
quire and practice low and vicious habits, t
Early in February, the “Supply” sailed !
for Smyrna, and passing many a spot of
richly-clustering historical associations—
the famed Cytherea, and Calypso, Malta
and Crete—reached the harbor of Istnir, I
the Christian Smyrna, on the 16th of Feb
ruary. We shall not trace the course of
the Expedition overground so familiar as
that of Greece, but hasten at once to Con
stantinople, where Lieut. Lynch had an
interview with the Sultan—an honor the
more distinguished, from its extreme rarity.
The interview took place at the palace of
Cherighan, on the Bosphorus, which Lieut.
Lynch describes as “a fine, rich building,
hut, for a royal palace, quite an unpretend
ing one.” It is of the oriental style, but
built of wood painted a light stone color.
His description of his audience with the
Sultan Abd'al Medjed is so interesting,
that we must find room for a portion of it.
After a discussion with the Sultan’s Secre
tary on a point of etiquette, in which, by
the way, American independence carried
the day, against even Turkish custom, the
author says:
“The discussion at an end, we ascend
ed the stairway, which was covered with a
good and comfortable, blit not a costly car
pet, and passed into a room more hand
somely furnished and more lofty, but in ev
ery other respect of the same dimensions
as the one immediately below it. A rich
carpet was on the floor, a magnificentchan
delier, all crystal and gold, was suspended
from the ceiling, and costly divans and ta
bles, with other articles of furniture, were
interspersed about the room ; but I had
not time to note them, for on the left hung
a gorgeous crimson velvet curtain embroid
ered and fringed with gold and towards it
the Secretary led the way. His counte
nance and his manner exhibited more awe
than I had ever seen depicted in the human
countenance. He seemed tohold his breath,
and his step was so soft and stealthy that
once or twice I stopped, under the impres
sion that I had left him behind, but found
him ever beside me. There were three of
us in close proximity, and the stairway was
lined with officers and attendants, but such
was the death-like stillness that 1 could
distinctly hear my own footfall, which,
unaccustomed to palace regulations, fell
with untutored republican firmness upon
the royal floor. If it had been a wild beast
slumbering in his lair that we were about
to visit, there could not have been a silence
more deeply hushed.
“ Fretted at such abject servility, I quick
ened my pace towards the curtain, when
Sheffie Bey, rathergliding than stepping be
fore me, cautiously and slowly raised a
corner for me to pass. Wondering at his
subdued and terror-stricken attitude. I step
ped across the threshold, and felt, with
out yet perceiving it, that I was in the
presence of the Sultan.
“ The heavy folds of the window cur
tain? so obscured the light, that it seemed
as if the day were drawing to a close, in
stead of being at its high meridian.
“As with the expanding pupil the eye
took in surrounding objects, the apartment,
its furniture and its royal tenant, presented
a different scene from what, if left to itself,
the imagination would have drawn.
“ The room, less spacious, hut as lofty
as the adjoining one, was furnished in the
modern European style, and like a famil
iar thing, a stove stood nearly in the cen
tre. On a sofa by a window, through
; which he might have looked upon us as
i we crossed the court, with a crimson tar
i bouch, its gold button and blue silk tassel
! on his head, a black kerchief around his
[ neck, attired in a blue military frock and
pantaloons, and polished French boots
upon his feet, sat the monarch, without
any of the attributes of sovereignty about
him.
“A man, young in years, but evidently of
impaired and delicate constitution, his wea
ried and spiritless air was unrelieved by
any indication of intellectual energy. He
eyed me fixedly as I advanced, and on him
my attention was no less intently riveted.
As he smiled 1 stopped, expecting that he
was about to speak, but he motioned gen
tly with his hand for me to approach yet
nearer. Through the interpreter, he then
bade me welcome, for which I expressed
my acknowledgements.”
Lieut. Lynch experienced no difficulty in
obtaining the firman, which allowed him to
pass through the Turkish dominions in Sy
ria. This firman was of no use to the
party, as a protection from the wild Arab
tribes they must encounter, but it was so
licited as a token of respect to the Govern
ment, and to secure the good-will and aid
of petty officers at different points.
The firman was addressed to the Pashas
of Jerusalem and Sarda, and directed them
to give to Lieut. Lynch and his companions
all due aid and co-operation in their explo
rations of the fiahr Liit.
The party returned to Smyrna in the
French steamer “Hellespont,” and imme
diately afterwards sailed in the “ Supply”
for the Syrian coast. While visiting the
paltry Turkish village of Ayasalonk—the
site of the once renowned Ephesus—they
saw the ruins of the famous church, unto
the angel of which the awful message re
corded in St. John was sent. In quoting
this passage, Lieut. Lynch has marred it
to the eye and to the perception of thou
sands of evangelical readers, by adopting
the Romish version— •_
“Or else I come to thee, and will move
thy candlestick out of its place, except
thou do penance.”
We know not the creed of our author—
but be he Romanist or Protestant, lie could
but know that at least nine-tenths of his
readers would assuredly be grieved at such
an evident perversion of the beautiful mean
ing of the original Greek word.
Near the end of March, the “ Supply”
came to anchor oil Beirut, and the Com
mander went on shore to visit the Pasha,
and secure from him instructions to his
subordinates on the further route of the
party. They found the worthy Pasha ig
norant of the extent of his jurisdiction—a
fact somewhat discreditable to that func
tionary, which our author, with his char
acteristic kindness of heart, says he would
forbear to mention, hut that the Pasha,
having been removed from office, there was
little probability that he would ever see the
recital.
From Beirut they sailed for St. Jean TV-
Acrc, and passing the frowning battlements
of the town, anchored under Mount Car
mel at the walled village of Haifa. There
they were to really commence their toil
some expedition—fruitless to all previous
adventurers, except in misfortune and death.
They landed the boats and their other ef
fects. These boats were named “Fanny
Mason” and “ Fanny Skinner,” and were
therefore called the “Two Fannies.” Each
of them was provided with a suitable car
riage to transport it over the country and
around the portages of the Jordan,
j The party experienced some difficulty in
getting their boats from Haifa to St. Jean
D'Acre—the horses sent for that purpose
by Sa’id Bey being “miserable, galled jades,
and entirely unused to draught.”
At the town of Acre, Lieut. Lynch natu
rally found much to interest him. Was it
not famous as the barrier to Napoleon in
one of his most splendid adventures—the
Key to Syria, which even his mighty arm
could not unlock 1 We must not linger,
however, to detail his interviews with the
Governor—with sheikhs and other dignita
ries—or his negotiations with the former
for camels and guards to convey them for
ward towards the sacred Jordan. The ra
pacity of the Arab character is well dis
played in the attempts of Sa’id Bey to ob
tain large bribes as the purchase of his fa
vor and protection, besides excessive pay
for the services desired! These, however,
our author firmly and successfully resisted.
In the course of his negociations, he be
came acquainted with an Arab nobleman,
called Sherif Hazza of Mecca. lie was
the thirty-third lineal descendant of Ma
homet, and is described as a fine old man,
with a prepossessing appearance, and dress
ed in a spencer and capacious trowsers of
fine olive cloth. By singular good fortune,
Lieut. Lynch was enabled to secure the
company of the Sherif for his expedition,
and a great acquisition did he prove to the
party. Another accession to the company
was the Sheikh Akil Aga cl Hassee—a
chief of Arab tribes bordering on the Jor
dan, whose name Sa ’id Bey had made use
of to intimidate our author, when descri
bing the opposition he would encounter on
the route! Thus did difficulties vanish, one
by one, before the undaunted resolution of
the enterpri/ing Commander, as the morn
ing clouds disappear before the advance of
the sun.
We cannot forbear quoting the following
picturesque description of one of the Acre
belles, whom our author observed from the
flat terrace of the Consular dwelling:
“There was, on an adjoining terrace, a
young girl, with a glorious profusion of
curling tresses, which, from beneath a
golden net-work on her head, fell grace
fully down upon her dumpy form (!) Be
side a boddice or spencer, she wore a short
pelisse and full trousers, which, to say the
least, were rather the worse for wear. 1
should have admired the dark, wild-look
ing eyes, and the luxuriant hair, had it not
been whispered to me that, in the morning,
her beautiful head was seen undergoing a
more critical examination than would be
necessary with one of our fair countrywo
men !”
On the 3d of April the party left Acre—
the two trucks laden with the boats, drawn
by camels supplied by a private resident of
the town--the governor's grasping dispo
sition having quite disgusted our author.
Avery pleasant episode in the narrative
describes our author's visit to the mountain
fortress of the Bedawin Sheikh Akil. It
was an almost inaccessible village on the
summit of a lofty hill, so steep and rugged
that only an Arab horse could scale it.—
The exquisite fragrance of the innumera
ble wild flowers that adorned the mountain
heights, vvas in striking contrast with the
atmosphere which enveloped the village,
tainted by the offensive odor of the fuel
employed in cooking—the dried excrement
of camels!
Lieut. Lynch had his suspicions excited
by the manners of the Sherif Akil and
his keen black-eyed companions, and felt
for a time quite uncomfortable at his de
fenceless position. His apprehensions
were relieved, however, by the approach
of the Caravan, and without hesitation he
closed an engagement with the Sheikh, on
the same terms as with the Sherif Hazzft.
The terms of agreement with each of these
Arab dignitaries provided that he should
furnish ten allies—armed with spears.
Thus reinforced the Caravan was quite
formidable and prepared for the probable
skirmishes of the desert. The following
is a description of the Encampment of the
expedition in the Wady En Nafakh(Blow
ing Valley.)
“It was a picturesque spot; on the left of
our tents, which faced the South, were the
trucks with the two boats, forming a kind
of entrenchment; behind these were about
thirty camels, and all our horses. From
the boats and in front of our white tents
the American flag was flying ; and just be
yond an officer and two sailors with Car
bines, had mounted guard with the loaded
blunderbusses between them. The tent of
our allies was a blue one ; and the horses i
tethered near, and tufted spears in front!
together with their striking Costume va- I
lied and enlivened the scene.”
Passing within three hours’ ride of Naz- j
areth on the one hand and within one!
hours’ ride of Cana ot Galilee on
er hand, the Caravan passed on
the Sea of Galilee, a glimpse h
they obtained from a lofty height-®|
like a mirror below. It is at
tics ns this, fraught with the most ,®|
cd memories of the Bible, that
fervor of our author breaks forth j a ®|
iliap'odie- of enthusiasm. To
spot is hallowed ground—and We
own emotions rising and swelling,
sive to his. ®
The Caravan lingered awtiileatT®
upon the beautiful lake of that
The .fi ws in this town are held in
Join almost absolute. There are ®
or.e thousand in the place. Their
marry at so early an age that oitr ®
saw a girl only ten years of age
been married two years. ®
It was in Tiberias that Lient. ®
heard of the death of Lieut.
gailanl Briti-h officer, who by a
incidence, was prosecuting an Exp®
to the Dead Sea while our authors®
king his preparations. fl
Lieut. Molyneaux descended the
and embarked on the sea, in Augtttt®
ding. Almost immediately after he®
ed bis ship he died—adding another®
list of unfortunate adventurers <®
Dead Sea. B
Almost incredible difficulties
overcome in bringing the boats tot®
of Tiberias, From Acre they In,®
di u rge 1 over; idges and chasms, an,®
at length the beautiful sea greetej®
vision it was so far below then®
descent with the boats seemed i®
ticuble. It was accomplished, ho®
as the following paragraph assures®
“ Took all hands up the moon®
bring the boats down. Many tin®
thought that, they like the herd of ®
would rush precipitately into thesca I
ery one did his best and at length ®
crowned our efforts. With their fla®
ing we carried them triumphantly fa®
the walls uninjured, and amid a cro®
spectators launched them upon th®
waters cf the Sea of Galilee, the®
singing, clapping their hands tg®
time and crying for backshish.®
we neither shouted nor cheered. ®
Christian lips it would have sou aid®
profanation. A look upon that cot®
ted lake ever brought to remembran®
words —‘Peace, be still!’ which no®
repressed ail noisy exhibition, but;®
for a time all worldly care! ■
“Buoyantly floated the two ‘Fa®
bearing the stars and stripes the o®
flag now waving in the world, bin®
time of Josephus and the Romans b®
sel of any size has sailed upon thj®
and for many, many years, but as®
keel has furrowed its surface.” I
We shall extend this paper toanu®
antable length if we do not hasten l®
to the immediate scenes of research®
Lieut. Lynch had recently sect®
most valuable addition to the party,®
person of Dr. Anderson, whose prole®
al skill might be of great moment to®
in tire regions to which they were ®
At Tiberias our travelers purchai®
the paltry sum of twenty five dolla®
old frame boat, in which to tram®
part of their effects down the J®
This boat was repaired, and chri®
“Uncle Sam.” I
For the more effectual accompli!®
oi'the object* proposed in the
l.li in. I.viu'h now divided the party. ®|
portion to go in the boats and
wiih ihe Caravan. The
I itler was entrusted to Mr. Dale,
to make topographical sketches
mute. Dr. Anderson was to be ged|®
and Mr Lynch the botanist.
embrace.!, moreover, the Sherif H®
Sheikh Akil, Mustafa, and ten BdH
scouts. ■
Lieut. Lynch assumed the
the water party, for which most It®
wasnppi'dien led from the attacks of AH
Holed the way in the “ Fanny MjtH
Lieut. Aiibck following in the “IH
Skinner,' 1 and chatged with thetopog®
i r al delineation of the river and itssS®
It was arranged that the land ]M
should keep ns near the river as the I®
liar nature of the country would a|H
and the discharge of two guns wasM
the signal that the party in the rivet I®
eil assistance. I
The land party numbered, in
horsemen. In the van were elevens®
billowed by the Bedawins on their ®
steeds, and the rear was composed ■
officers and men of the Expedition. ®
qually imposing style did the water
cade lake its departure, with their c®
gaily streaming in the breeze awl e®
oar plied vigorously, to urge the®
boats through the sparkling waves d®
sea of Galilee. With hearts as buoy*®
the waters did they commence a vo®
fraught with perils of which, happdß®
had no definite apprehension. I
From the S. W. corner of the
Jordan debouches in a westerly coot*®
tween depicssed shores, exhibiting
of a tame description, relieved
retreating mountain ranges oil cither®
of the valley. ■
As the party floated down
strong current of the river, they
picturesque glimpses of the Bedu\vinß®|
men. Towards sunset the boats
first rapids, at the ruins of the brid|®
Semakh, and upon one of the
piers of the bridge stood the lofty
kil, arrayed in green cloak red
and flowing trovvsers. With
spear he indicated the channel of the*Jß
while around bis head a number ot “;T®
were sailing in wild confusion. A
the mid-channel of the rapids
the boats with wreck and the
rab crew of the Uncle Sam, brought*®
boat into collision with the Fanny
but at such a forunate angle that *■
boats veered and glided into safe W* 1 ”®
At the ruined bridge both partk* ®