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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* ®