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niches was owned by a rich family, and | cient site where there were more ruins, that successive generations had been and cave tombs, and cisterns, These cisburied in it. Thus, Abraham purchased terns are dangerous pitfalls to the explorthe cave of Machpelah for a family bury-er. Their circular apertures, about two ing-place. While exploring a low passage feet in diameter, are often concealed by in one of these caves at Jissy, with a lighted an overgrowth of shrubs, and an unlucky candle in one hand while I pulled myself step may land one in a cavity twenty feet. along the ground with the other, I sud- deep, where the rock has been hollowed denly came upon a pit into which I nearly out into the shape of a huge demijohn, pitched headlong, as stretching my hand the sides still retaining the old cement forward it found no resting-place. I with which they were carefully plastered, threw some pieces of lighted paper down, thus forming a trap from which, even if and found that it was about ten feet to one sustained no injury from the fall, the débris at the bottom, and eight in escape would be quite impossible without diameter, circular, without an outlet so assistance. Where the surrounding surfar as I could discover; on the edge I face is smooth rock and sloping, small found a handle of what had probably been runnels are generally chiselled for the, a cinerary urn. An Arab who was pres-purpose of conducting the water into the ent told me that in one of the neighboring caves he had found three bottles of red glass, in a perfect condition, which he had broken. There were many fine capacious cisterns hewn out of the solid rock on this hill, and the solidity of the ruins, which consisted of huge blocks of carved stone, showed that it must have been a place of some importance, though I have not been able to identify either it or the neighboring Hamiz with any biblical site. Here there were some more ruins and several sarcophagi, but the most interesting discovery were five fragments of prostrate columns lying in a group, on one of which I was able distinctly to trace the letters IMP. AUR., thus fixing the date of the temple or building to which they belonged at about the middle of the third century after Christ. This point is only about half an hour distant from Bethlehem of Galilee, one of the cities of Zebulon, charmingly situated in a parklike country, now a village of mud hovels, where there are also some columns and the traces of a subterranean aqueduct. Then we ride through sylvan glens, up little gorges, where the rocky sides show indications of ancient cuttings, over hills covered with oak-trees, and at this time of year along glades here and there of rich grass, till we reach the summit of the range, and look down on the plain of the Kishon. Here, attracted by the sound of chopping, where nobody had a right to chop, I turned off the path, and came upon a group of charcoal-burners cutting down a tree, whom I had the satisfaction of frightening thoroughly by threatening them with legal penalties. And thus I accidentally stumbled upon another an

cistern, the whole representing an immense amount of labor and no little mechanical skill. In the course of my ride through these woods I had seen enough to convince me that they abound with cave tombs which are still unopened, notwithstanding the search for treasures which has been prosecuted by the peasants for two thousand years; and that many interesting relics, which may possibly throw light on the history of the country, are yet to be discovered. It is true. that many of these caves may contain the tombs of early Christians, and there is no logical reason why it should be less sacrilegious to despoil the grave of an early Christian than of a late one, or why the dead of all religions, whether modern or ancient, are not entitled to the same_respect being paid to their remains. Certain it is that the force of the sentiment, with which, after all, reason has very little to do, is weakened by the fact of a lapse of ages, and that to rifle a modern grave, no matter what was the faith of the occupant, would excite very different feelings in the breast from any that are felt when exhuming the ashes of those who have passed away in remote antiquity.

It was impossible, as I explored the romantic scenery of these forest-clad hills, not to be impressed by a consideration of the attractions they must have possessed in the days when their charm was enhanced by the arts of civilization - when towns of massive and stately architecture crowned the hilltops, and when, in the sombre forest aisles, the gods were worshipped in temples, the prostrate columns of which still attest their former grace.

LAURENCE OLIPHANT.

From The Leisure Hour. GRACE DARLING.

"MORE than forty years have passed over since the wreck of the steamship 'Forfarshire.' The story has been often told of her leaving Hull for Dundee with boilers defective from the outset, and above forty passengers on board beside her crew; of her attaining to the north of Berwick-upon-Tweed, when obstinacy itself could force her no further; and, driven back by a gale, she struck upon a point of rock at the western extremity of the Big Harker, one of the group called the Farne Islands. As often has it been told how the keeper of Longstone Lighthouse and his young daughter put off in their boat to the rescue of nine of the passengers and crew, all that remained alive with the wreck. Grace Darling hearing the cries of the shipwrecked in the midst of the storm, and thereupon appeal. ing to her father, has been much dwelt upon; although the wreck in a direct line was a full half-mile from the lighthouse, and the northern gale must have carried any sound another way. Most writers have made Grace Darling and her father row back their boat with all the saved nine at once; yet among the many endeavors to magnify a deed which has no need of fiction one thing has generally been left unrecorded, which, while it lessens the work the two had to accomplish, materially enhances the risk they ran. On leaving the lighthouse the boat had to pass southward through an opening between the Longstone and the next island, called the Bluecaps, before it gained the shelter afforded by the Bluecaps and the Harker, which lay east and west in an almost continuous line between the Longstone and the wreck; and without this shelter the feat of the Darlings would have been impossible. When they dared the exposed passage at starting their boat went before the gale, but on returning had to be rowed against it; and William Darling put off with his daughter, both knowing that, unaided, they could not regain their home, but calculating upon some of the survivors of the wreck having strength enough left to help in rowing back."

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Being requested by J. Herbert, Esq., Secry., what was Done by My Daughter and myself on Trinity H., London, for a Detailed account of the 7th of Septr., 38, followes the Answer to.

Dear Sir, In answer to your request of 29 Ult. have to state that on the Morning of the 7th September, it Blowing Gale with rain from the North, my Daughter and me being Both on the alert before high water securing things out of Doors,* one quarter before five my Daughter observed a Vessel on the Harkers rock; but owing to the Darkness, and sprey going over although the Glass was Incessantly applied, her, could not observe any person on the Wreck untill near 7 o'clock, when the tide being fallen we observed three or four Men upon the rock: we agreed that if we could get to them some of them would be able to assist us back, without which we could not return; and having no Idea of a Possibility of a Boat coming from North Sunderland, we amediately Launched our Boat, and was Enabled to gain the rock judged rather two many to take at once in the where we found 8 men and I women, which I state of Weather: therefore took the Women and four Men to the Longstone: two of them returned with me and succeeded in bringing the remainder, In all 9 persons, safely to the Longstone about 9 o'clock: afterward the Boat from N. Sunderland arrived and found three Lifeless Bodies, Viz. I man & 2 Children, which they carried to the High rock, and came to the Longstone with great Difficulty, and had to Lodge in the Barracks two Days & Nights, change them with. with scant provisions, No beds nor cloths to

Your Most Obedt. Servant, WM. DARLING.

Grace Darling did not row with her father to the wreck the second time. Then, there were able men to take her place, and she could better be employed in aiding her mother to tend the three who remained at the Longstone, more especially the woman, mother of the two children who had been left dead upon the rock. As the tide was falling, it is to be supposed that the row along the lee side of the sheltering rocks was easier the second time than the first, so that Grace had the worst of it; and the whole nine did not the less owe their lives to her intrepidity because in case of the latter four the debt was an indirect one.

Before the end of the month in which the event happened a letter was sent from Had the exploit of Grace Darling althe Trinity House, by direction of the ways been described as rationally as in Board, requesting the lighthouse-keeper the letter of her own father, perhaps to furnish for their information a detailed travellers would less often have been surstatement of the circumstances. Three prised by a disposition among the boatcopies of his reply, in his own hand, have men of the neighboring coast to deprebeen preserved. The alterations are slight that would make his letter grammatically correct, but they would spoil it.

At the Farne Islands, where the tide is twenty minutes later than at London Bridge, it was high water on the 7th of September, 1838, at 4.13 A.M.

ciate it. These boatmen are familiar with the waters and islands; they have contended with seas through which no man could row with only a daughter's aid, let the two be ever so devoted and coura

geous; and when such men see inflated descriptions of impossible achievements, some allowance may be made if they run to an opposite extreme.

Grace Darling was not a large, robust woman, but under five feet three inches high and otherwise proportionate. When they reached the place of wreck, the father had to spring upon the rock to prevent the whole of those on it from crowding into his boat, and induced four of them to await its coming again. Left to manage the boat alone, Grace Darling had need enough of the shelter which the rock could furnish; and to her father it must have been a more trying moment when he thus quitted her, than even when the boat was first launched.

The North Sunderland boatmen who reached the Harker's rock an hour after the last of the "Forfarshire's" survivors had been taken to the Longstone well merit remembrance. Even they found it no light task to gain the Longstone, and the nature of a storm which kept these boatmen for a couple of days upon the island is beyond question.

The part borne by William Darling has been sometimes subordinated in the praise awarded to his daughter.

We need not repeat the subsequent inci dents of Grace Darling's life. The following letter, written in reply to a lady who, having lost a friend by the wreck of the "Forfarshire," sent to the Longstone a present of books, and therewith a series of inquiries, will suffice to show the kind of home in which this spirit of heroism was nurtured:

Longstone Light House, Jan. 25th, 1839. DEAR MADAM, I received yours on Monday 21st, dated 27th ult., with the books, for which we beg to return our most sincere thanks.

I

I felt very much for you when you mentioned the loss of your late friend, but we must put our trust in God, as he is all sufficient and knows best. You mentioned coming to see the rock on which the Forfarshire was lost, which sufferers. You requested me to let you know has been done by many of the friends of the whether I felt pleasure to be out in a rough sea, which I can assure you there is none, I think, to any person in their sober senses. have seven apartments in the house to keep in a state fit to be inspected every day by Gentlemen, so that my hands are kept very busy that I never think the time long, but often too boat with my father for want of better help, but never at the saving of any lives before, and I pray God may never be again. Since the loss of the Forfarshire, the Trinity Masters have appointed my brother, William Brooks, to assist my father, but as our boat requires three persons to work her in bad weather I may be again needed. I have been brought up on the Islands, learned to read and write by my parents, and knit, spin, and soe, or sew; indeed I have no time to spare, but when I have been on the Main I am quite surprised to see people generally after what they call getting their day's work done, they sit down, some to play at cards, which I do not understand, perhaps as well, for my father says they are some of the Devil's books; others to read romances, novels and plays, which are books my father will not allow a place in our house, for he says they are throwing away time. Our books are princi. pally Divinity; the authors, Bishop Wilson, Ambrose, Newton, Marshall, Cowper, Flavel, Willison, Boston, Milton, Hervey, Bunyan, Baxter and others, with a good many of the Religious Tract Society's Publications; and Geography, History, Voyages and Travels, with Maps, so that Father can show us any part of the World, and give us a description of the people, manners and customs, so it is our own blame if we be ignorant of either what is done, or what ought to be done. You will perhaps be aware that our duty as Lightkeepers requires one person to be in attendance at this season almost every hour out of the 24, Sunday to Saturday. My confidence in so kind a letter and present will plead excuse for my freedom, and believe me, dear Madam, Your most obedt. Servant, G. H. DARLING.

short. I have often had occasion to be in the

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good enough to call that supreme poet "a solemn mas ing of Dante is not merely a pleasure, a tour de force, ter" for me. These are not empty words. The reador a lesson; it is a vigorous discipline for the heart, the intellect, the whole man. In the school of Dante I have learned a great part of that mental provision (however insignificant it be) which has served me to make the journey of human life up to the term of nearly seventy-three years. And I should like to extend your excellent phrase, and to say that he who labors for Dante labors to serve Italy, Christianity, the world. Your very respectful servant,

St. James's Gazette.

W. E. GLADSTONE

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For EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the LIVING AGE will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage. Remittances should be made by bank draft or check, or by post-office money-order, if possible. If neither of these can be procured, the money should be sent in a registered letter. All postmasters are obliged to register letters when requested to do so. Drafts, checks and money-orders should be made payable to the order of LITTELL & Co.

Single Numbers of THE LIVING AGE, 18 cents.

THE NIGHTINGALES.

Do you forget the starry light,
The glory of the southern night;
The wooing of the scented breeze,
That rustled all the shadowy trees;
The tinkling of the falling streams,
That mingled with our waking dreams;
And, echoing from the wooded vales,
The nightingales, the nightingales?

Do you forget how passing fair,
The Moorish palace nestled there,
With arch, and roof, and coign, and niche,
In carven beauty rare and rich;
With court, and hall, and corridor,
Where we two lingered, o'er and o'er,
While blent with old romantic tales
The music of the nightingales?

Do you forget the glowing noon,
When by the fountain's rhythmic tune
We talked of all that once had been,
And peopled the calm lovely scene
With stately forms of elder times,
Of history's lore, and poet's rhymes,
And feats o'er which our fancy pales;
And thrilled through all, the nightingales?

Do you forget those evening hours,
Laden with breath of orange flowers?
When we, from ruddy ramparts gazing,
Saw the snow peaks in sunset blazing;
While Darro sang his ceaseless song,
Sweeping his aloe banks along;
And leaning on the gallery rails,
We listened to the nightingales?

And in the flush of dying day
Down, far below, Granada lay;
While chiming from her hundred towers,
Her bells pealed out the vesper hours;
And in the soft warm scented hush,
The Vega smiled through roseate blush;
And, ringing through her flowery vales,
Rose up the song of nightingales.

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Without, the clouds stoop grey and low,
Where, over drifts of sullied snow,
The north wind sweeps on bitter wing
Where violets crouch shuddering;
And the pale primrose scarce dare peep,
Though wearied of her winter sleep.
What should they do in scenes like these,
The glorious red anemones?

Within, by warmth and tendance wooed,
To their sweet fearless charm renewed,
Like scarlet flames the leaves unclose,
And from our spring of winds and snows,
Their magic bears the fancy back,
O'er memory's fair unbroken track,
To sunny plains and whispering seas,
And wealth of red anemones.

Where in the glowing southern light,
The tideless waves lie blue and bright,
And the warm winds all scented sweep,
And in the shade the fountains leap,
And the grey-green of olives shows,
And like wrought gold, the orange glows,
While from dim mountains steals the breeze
That rustles the anemones.

Oh, dream of holiday and rest,

When life, by love and calm caressed,

'Mid beauty, charm, and novelty

Laughed through a golden mouth for me!
Though it, and all it gave is o'er,
I live its happiness once more,
Drain memory's nectar to its lees,
And thank my red anemones.

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