THE RIVER JORDAN AND THE DEAD SEA. 15 tool, few we read, "After being in it some few hours it iterranean and Atlantic Oceans, but of a darkish We had quite a task to wash from our skin all the uncomfortable substances which had clung to us from the Dead Sea, for our clothes and skin had become positively saturated with the salt water.P. 189. But although thus unpleasant, acrid, and greasy, we are assured by Captain Lynch that the water is perfectly inodorous. And he ascribes the noxious smells which pervade the shores, not, as Molyneux supposed, to the lake itself, but to the foetid springs and marshes along the shore, increased, perhaps, by exhalations from the stagnant pools upon the flat plain, which bounds the lake to the north. Elsewhere, he contends, that the saline and inodorous exhalations from the lake itself must be rather wholesome than otherwise; and as there is p. 207. A book of a large octavo size, being dipped in the water, either by accident or otherwise, resisted every attempt made to dry it. I have subsequently seen it in the oven of the ship's galley on several occasions, but without any permanent effect.Mantague, p. 224. but little verdure upon the shores, there can be no vegetable exhalations to render the air impure. The evil is in the dangerous and depressing influence from the intense heat, and from the acrid and clammy quality of the waters producing a most irritated state of the skin, and eventually febrile symptoms and great prostration of strength. Under these influences, in a fortnight, although the health of the men seemed substantially sound, pearance. Now, as to the non-existence of living things in the buoyancy of the water, seem to be those alone The figure of each had assumed a dropsical apThe lean had become stout, and the stout almost corpulent; the pale faces had become florid, and those that were florid, ruddy; moreover, the slightest scratch festered, and the bodies of many of us were covered with small pustules. The men complained bitterly of the irritation of their sores, whenever the acrid water of the sea touched them. Still, all had good appetites, and I hoped for the best.-Lynch, p. 336. Remarkable effects are afforded by the saline deposits upon the shores. On the peninsula, towards the south end, the lake are salt. In the salt-water streams there are plenty of fish, which, when they are unfortunately carried into the Dead Sea by the stream, or caught in their own element by the experimentalist, and thrown into it, at once expire and float. The same experiment was made and repeated at the mouth of the Jordan, cast into the sea; and nature, alike in both inwith ourselves, of fish which we caught there, and stances, immediately refused her life-supporting influence.-Montague, p. 223. There are few bushes, their stems partly buried in the water, and their leafless branches incrusted with salt, which sparkled as trees do at home when the sun shines upon them after a heavy sleet.Lynch, p. 298. Overhauled the copper boat, which wore away rapidly in this living sea. Such was the action of the fluid upon the metal, that the latter, so long as it was exposed to its immediate friction, was as bright as burnished gold, but when it came in contact with the air, it corroded immediately.-Lynch, p. 344. The commander himself cites a still more extraordinary fact. In a note at p. 377, he says— Since our return, some of the water of the Dead Sea has been subjected to a powerful microscope, and no animalculæ or vestige of animal matter could be detected. This experiment, and proper care to secure some of the water of the lake, reminds us of a curious passage in our favorite old French traveller, Nau, who seems to regard this interest in the lake as a characteristic of Protestantism : Before I finish this chapter, I must not omit to mention one thing that surprised me much in my two journeys. In both there were in the company some heretic merchants, who all manifested a marked devotion for this Sea of Sodom, testifying an extraordinary gladness in beholding it, and filling a large number of bottles with its water, to carry home with them, as if it had been some precious relic. I am not well able to understand The shores of the beach before me, as I write, the reasons of their devotion, or why they burdened are encrusted with salt, and locked exactly as if themselves with so much of this water, which is of white-washed.-Lynch, p. 344. wrath and vengeance, rather than with that of the The sands are not so bright as those of the Med-Jordan, which is a water of mercy and salvation. = In fact, these men declared that there was nothing in all the Holy Land which they had seen with so much gratification.-Voyage Nouveau, p. 384. The scarcity of vegetation upon the bushes would account for the comparative absence of land birds from the lake; and the absence of fishes and other aquatic creatures from the waters would sufficiently explain the absence of aquatic fowl. There is no doubt, for these causes, some scarcity of birds here as compared with other lakes. But the notion that the effluvia of the waters were fatal to birds that attempted to pass, has been disproved during the present century by a great accumulation of evidence, which our explorers have been enabled largely to confirm. In fact, though we have long ceased to have any doubts on this point, we feel somewhat surprised at the number and variety of birds that are mentioned as found upon the borders of the lake, as flying over it, or as skimming its surface. It is scarcely worth while to multiply instances of what almost every recent traveller has noticed. One instance is sufficient and conclusive, which is, that wild bucks were more then once seen floating at their sase on the surface of the lake. The tradition, now to be treated as obsolete, probably originated in the bodies of dead birds being found on the shore or upon the water. Such were, indeed, three times picked up by our travellers; but Lieut. Lynch feels assured that they had perished from exhaustion, and not from any malaria of the sea. Montague thinks they had rather been shot in their flight, and adds the interesting fact, that they were in a good state of preservation, though they appeared to have been for some time in the water. The water, he adds, seems to have the quality of preserving whatever is cast into it. Specimens of wood found there were in an excellent state of preservation. We now quit with reluctance a subject in which we feel very much interest. Lieut. Lynch's book must be pronounced of great value, not only for the additions which it makes to our knowledge, but as the authentic record of an enterprise in the highest degree honorable to all the parties concerned. Our only regret is, that the author's avowed anxiety to occupy the book-market has prevented him from digesting his materials so carefully as the importance of the subject demanded, and has left inexcusable marks of haste, which should in any future edition be removed. Mr. Bentley is not, in this matter, altogether free from blame; for there are numerous persons in this country whose services would have removed most of the grosser errors by which the work is disfigured. As for the other book, what we have already said, we say once more:-It is a bushel of chaff, from which those who think it worth their while, and who have sufficient patience and skill, may contrive to extract a few grains of wheat. SONNET. COME, difficulty-hindrance to desert, Bugbear to fear, to dulness final stop No more-it is a harp's low tone A fading flower, with blighted root. No more-it is a murmuring rill, No more-it is a severed chord ; No more-it is a shadow fled; No more-it is a passing bell, Of youth, and love, and life, the knell; [MAJOR GORDON'S PRUSSIAD.] MAJOR ALEXANDER GORDON, a volunteer in the Prussian service, wrote an heroic poem called the Prussiad, which he presented to the King of Prussia, at the camp of Madlitz, near Furstenwalde, Sept. 7, 1759, and then published at London, with the letter from that king prefixed, thus translated by the poet himself. To Major Alexander Gordon. and thank you for the many genteel compliments Sir-I have read your poem with satisfaction: you have paid me in it. Towards the expense of having it printed, I have ordered my secretary to pay you two hundred crowns, which I desire you will accept of, not as a reward of your merit, but as a mark of my benevolence. FREDERICK. It is a neat poem, as the following passage may show. Upon the precipice of danger, see A VERY WOMAN. BY S. M., THE AUTHOR OF THE MAIDen aunt. 205 others, if her most active bodily exertion is to Clara clasped her hands together in the enthu- "Isn't my mistress' breakfast ready yet, Miss Clara?" asked a somewhat untidy looking maid, as she entered the room, carrying an empty tray, and followed by the master of the house and sundry other members of the family; "she has been waiting for it this quarter of an hour." Clara looked bewildered at this sudden summons from her castle in the air. Why, the tea is n't even made !" cried Mr. Capel, indignantly "Really, Clara, it is very tiresome. Books," with a wrathful glance at the volume of Sully, "are exceedingly well in their way; but it is one of the worst characteristics of a regular blue-stocking to be dreaming over a book when she ought to be making herself useful. Halfpast nine o'clock, too, and the children's breakfast not ready yet. If this goes on I shall have Julia installed as housekeeper in future; she may, perhaps be better, and it's quite certain she could n't be worse!" "FERTILE in expedients!" said Clara Capel to herself, as she stood alone at the breakfast-table with a spoon filled with tea-leaves carefully poised in her hand on its way from the caddy to the teapot. The life of Sully lay open on the table beside her, and was the immediate cause of her soliloquy. "Fertile in expedients!" thought she, "it is always the same. All great men are so, whether statesmen, or generals, or authors. They don't make a handsome, tidy, comfortable theory in their own minds, and then throw away everything they meet with because it does not exactly suit the place they have got ready for it; but they take the world as they find it, and having got their materials they improve here and correct there, they invent this and beautify that and combine all, till at last they have built up a great edifice to the glory of God; and the irregularity and variety, the dreamy lights and doubtful shadows, are, in fact, the beauty of it." (Clara was pleased with her illustration, and so paused to polish it a little ere she proceeded.) "To give up laboring because the persons, or the systems, by whom and under which you have to labor, are not ideally perfect, is very much as if an artist were to give up painting because his oil-colors did n't smell of otto of roses, and were apt to soil his fingers. 'Make the best of it!'-that is the motto of all practical greatness-and what a best it is sometimes! How infinitely and wonderfully the result transcends the means! Well, and the same sort of mind which, when the proportions are large, is fit to rule the world must be necessary, though with small proportions, for the guidance of a family, or a course of every-day duties. Of that I am quite sure. And this is a woman's business, not to sit down as I do and grieve inwardly because she cannot do what she would, but to do what she can, and that cheerfully. Goëthe says, 'It is well for a woman when no work seems too hard for her or too small, when she is able to forget herself and to live entirely in others.' Why am I not thus? I can be, and by God's help I will be. Unselfish ress and energy, these are the great secrets, and these are within everybody's reach. I may be, if I choose, the life and centre of this home of minethe one who helps all, the one to whom all appeal. I may bring order and even elegance out of all this confusion, by descending to details and going to work heartily. Why should I be ashamed to do so? The heroine of a Swedish novel goes into the kitchen to dress beef-steaks for her husband's dinner, and yet is capable of discussing æsthetics in Clara was naturally timid; she attempted no a manner that few Englishwomen could equal One self-defence, but hurriedly and nervously proceeded would not be less liked and admired-(here it must with the business of breakfast. She made tea, be confessed that a particular person was in Clara's conscious that the water had ceased to boil, but thoughts, though she gave mental utterance to afraid to expose the fact by ringing the bell for a no name)-for such exertions, but rather more. fresh supply. Quietly and silently she provided Men, especially, never think so highly of a woman the children with their bread and milk, distributed as when she contributes to the comfort of others; the steaming cups to her elder brother and sister,. and how can she contribute, to the comfort of and finally placed the strongest beside her father, LIVING AGE. VOL. XXIII. 2 CCLXXXI. "I am very sorry, papa," said Clara, meekly, the ready tears gathering in her eyes. "O! it's easy to be very sorry," returned her father, as he sat down and began cutting bread and butter with great vehemence; "but the fact is, you don't care for such things-you never think about them-your head is full of other matters; and as long as you have your German and your music it's nothing to you that your mother has to wait for her breakfast. If you gave one twentieth part of the thought which you bestow on a sonata by Beethoven to the comfort of your family, it would be better for all of us!" How unjust we are to each other! and yet scarcely to be condemned, for the action is all we can see; and when the action belies the thought how can we form a right judgment? And who is there so perfectly disciplined that his habitual actions do indeed represent his inward aspirations? who vouchsafed no acknowledgment of the atten- | human being escaped a fall, it was a wonderful tion, his temper not being improved by the dis-exercise of skill and affection on the part of the covery that he was spreading tea-leaves upon the former, and he deserved high commendation for bread with his butter. Then, while the servant it. Ponto howled aloud; and Emily, who was and tray still waited, she was hurrying out into the very tender-hearted, and whose nerves were somegarden, leaving her own meal untasted, when her what affected by the preceding scene, burst into a brother stopped her : " Where, in the name of violent flood of tears; little Annie, as a matter of wonder, are you going, Clara?" course, roaring, with all her might, for sympathy. "Only to gather a nosegay, to send up with mamma's breakfast,” replied she, apologetically, as she paused on the threshold. The Capels were universally pronounced a very happy family; nevertheless, this specimen of their domestic felicity was by no means solitary of its kind. 66 "A nosegay!" cried Mr. Capel, with an indescribable mixture of wrath and contempt, while Mr. Capel could scarcely be blamed for seizing George and Julia could not restrain their laughter, | his hat, and rushing forth to his office in a passion; and the younger members of the family observed however, he was by no means a fundamentally illthat restrained and awkward silence natural to natured man, only a little hot-tempered and fussy; children when a disturbance is going on among so he came back again in five minutes, and made their elders. "A NOSEGAY! upon my word and his peace with Clara, kissing her, and telling her honor, Clara, you are too provoking. Just come 'only to be a little more thoughtful in future, and back and sit down, will you? I hate this confused these unpleasant scenes would n't happen." He uncomfortable way of having one's breakfast-it is then patted Emily's head, and bade her not be wretched-it puts me out for the whole day. And such a little goose; neither did he omit to stroke your mother waiting all this while! She would Ponto, as he passed out for the second time. Poor much rather have a cup of tea, than all the nose- Clara, with swollen eyes and aching forehead, begays in the world. It will be time enough to took herself, work in hand, to her mother's bedthink of the graces of life when you have learned side, there to reflect upon this first specimen of a little better to fulfil the commonest duties." her powers as leader and life of a family. This closing sarcasm was quite too much for I suppose it will be thought that my heroine poor Clara; and as she resumed her seat and her was a very weak, inconsistent, self-indulgent young occupation, her tears fell fast. She tried hard to lady, whose good resolutions evaporated in solilorestrain them, and cautiously screened them from quies, or had just solidity enough for the construcher father's observation behind the urn. Then tion of a castle in the air. We must, therefore, followed sundry of those small, quiet kindnesses, endeavor to give an idea of her character and which are always forthcoming when any member position, which, as generally happens, were, in the of an affectionate family is in trouble, however first instance, peculiarly unsuited to each other; deserved. George and Julia exerted themselves whether she ever succeeded in solving the great to maintain a forced conversation, and the former kept vigilant watch over the sugaring and creaming of his father's cup, in order to repair any oversight, without drawing attention to it; Emily silently supplied her sister's plate with bread and butter; and little Annie, who understood nothing except that Clara was crying about flowers, stole round to her side with a rosebud, just gathered from her own garden, soft and fresh as her own smiling lips, and quietly slipped the offering into Clara's hand. problem how to bring them into harmony, remains to be seen. She was nineteen years old, and the eldest of seven children; her mother was a confirmed invalid, who never left her bed till noon, and then only to be moved to a sofa; a gentle, uncomplaining sufferer she was, somewhat weak both in will and intellect, but full of tenderness, and beloved by all who knew her. Mr. Capel was, as we have seen, a good kind of man, hot-headed and warm-hearted, deficient in cultivation, but not in natural capacity, a rigid disciplinarian by fits and starts, and, consequently, the man, of all others, to produce utter confusion in his household. Seven children and a sickly wife taxed to the utmost the moderate income which he made as a lawyer in a country town, and the perpetual struggle of a naturally liberal disposition, compelled to live and make live upon insufficient means, was quite enough, when not converted by self-discipline into a means of improvement, to account for the growing irritability of his character. George, a Mr. Capel was angry enough to feel his indignation rather increased than abated by the evident distress of the culprit; it seemed to reproach him for a severity which justice had entirely demanded, and by aggravating his discomfort, aggravated also his ire. He pushed his plate from him, saying, in a kind of finale tone of intense disgust, "A wretched breakfast, indeed!" then sharply rebuked Emily for spilling her bread and milk on the carpet, and trod hard on the toes of the family spaniel, who spent his life in an abortive attempt to commit promising youth of eighteen, and the delight of suicide by thrusting himself under the feet of each his elder sister's heart, was intended for holy ormember of the household in succession, but who, ders; he was amiable and clever, even elegant in being a favorite, was generally praised and petted mind, but somewhat irresolute; there was about for this, as though the natural place of dogs was him a feminine want of self-dependence, combined wherever human feet were about to be planted; with an occasional obstinacy of purpose, so sudden and if the dog escaped being trampled on, and the and disproportionate that it seemed to arise from 205 ence. a secret suspicion of his particular defect and a fular as her sister. She had a most warm, loving, 66 despised herself for being so, and was almost ashamed to set about curing herself of the faults peculiar to what is called a woman of genius," because she was not certain that she was one. She had all kinds of ideal pictures before her eyes which she was impatient to realize; but she was obliged to be architect and mason in one, and she did not know the simplest rules of construction. She was the person of all others most likely to The two little boys, Frank and Hugh, had rosy, be misjudged by those who did not thoroughly smiling faces, hands never clean, and shoe-strings understand her; for, with an original and striking never tied. They got on very well at the day-character, keen thoughts and decided opinions, she school, thought it great fun to call their master had so little natural presence of mind that she "Dick" when he was quite out of hearing; inva- often appeared to have no character at all, and riably slammed the doors in summer, and left them she was so self-distrustful that she sometimes diswide open in winter; and always had in their pock-claimed an opinion almost in the moment of utterets a knife, a piece of string, six marbles, two ing it, lest it should turn out to be wrong. She broken slips of wood, a rusty nail, the leaf of a saw all the evils around her with a perception alLatin grammar, an ounce of toffy, some crumbs most morbidly acute; and she was too busy with of bread and cheese, a hard ball, and an apple. self-contempt for the sorry part she had played in Emily was a rather self-sufficient lady of nine the family drama, to think for a moment of critiyears, who thought it great promotion to put back cizing her fellow-actors. Suddenly she had waked her hair with combs and wear worked collars. up to the consciousness of all this, having hitherto She was a vigorous stickler for the rights of wo-lived, half-studiously, half-dreamily, indulged in man, which she not unfrequently attempted to ob- all her inclinations both by the love of her partain from her brothers by personal violence, being ents and the pride which they felt in her talents; always ready with the true English sentiment, and while frequently regretting and feeling teased "How cowardly to touch a girl!" if the smallest by the civil disorders of the little commonwealth, retort were attempted. To say the truth, the two contenting herself with the notion that she never schoolboys suffered many an instance of grievous could amend them, as it was useless for her to tyranny at her hands, which they bore the better try to be practical. This, however, was but because they had not yet opened their eyes to the a vague half-expressed thought, although it was fact. Little Annie, with her earnest blue eyes, decidedly acted upon, and the evils were persweet shy manners, and pretty loving ways, was petually growing, and at last her eyes opened. the pet, the plaything, and the sunshine of the Sorrowfully and earnestly her heart accused itself whole household. Clara herself was the genius before God, and then took refuge from its own reof the family, and as inoffensive a genius as it would proaches in the intensity of a fresh resolution. be possible to find anywhere. She had been a pre- No one suspected what was going on in her mind, cocious child, having learned all her letters before and numberless were the little difficulties unconshe was two years old, and composed a decided sciously thrown in her way; not a few, also, were rhyme before she was four; neither had her tal- the helps lent to her as unconsciously. Indeed, she ents evaporated as she grew up. She played very began to think that it only depended upon herself. well, and sang with much feeling; she had a great to turn every difficulty into a help; the steeper the aptitude for languages, was fond of reading, fonder path the sooner you reach the summit, if only you of thinking, fondest of dreaming. She was very have strength and breath for the ascent. Clara shy, and did not please in general society; she thought she had strength and breath, and should was uncomfortably conscious that her abilities they fail her she knew where and how to renew were overrated, and believed herself to be desti- them. Her purpose burned within her with a fertute of those attractions which perhaps most wo- vor, almost with a passion, which those only can men covet more than ability. In person she was understand who are in the habit of feeling much interesting rather than pretty, having much intel- which they never betray, and who, believing with ligence and sweetness of countenance without reg- all their hearts that the will has power over life ularity of feature, so she believed herself ugly, and circumstance, and soul, are yet conscious, even and tried to persuade herself that she was careless to agony, of its practical impotence. The words, of admiration; yet she had much grace of man- conquer self!" were ringing in her ears, throbner, a musical voice, and a captivating smile, and bing in her heart and brain. blinding and deafenif she had not often made herself repulsive out of ing her for the time to all outward sights and the fear of being so, she might have been as pop-sounds. With an almost terrified hope that she |