several miles above the city, and these all flow through Damascus, bearing different names, and are supposed to have different degrees of excellence. The river whose water is most prized is called the Abanias, doubtless the Abana, and passes through what was once a fashionable suburb, the "West End" of Damascus, overhanging the green merg. Another river of Damascus passes through what was the northern suburb of the city until Tamerlane destroyed it. It is now called the Taura, which name we find in the Arabic version of the Bible instead of Pharpar, and Benjamin of Tudela

identifies the Taura with the Pharpar. The "Waddy Barhar," at the source of the 'Awaj, which was supposed to contain in its name the word Pharpar, is now known to have no existence; and as there exist at Damascus a number of rivers,* known by distinct and different names, there need be no question that the same rivers, and with various names, flowed through the city in the days of Naaman and Elisha. And there is no reason to doubt that the great Damascene mentioned in his haughty boast the two rivers he had most enjoyed. And if the various rivers of the Syrian capital now sparkle in fifty-eight baths during the decadence of the city, who will doubt that the same sparkling waters were as extensively used for purposes of luxury in the palmy days of the Ben Haddad dynasty? Nor is it for a moment to be supposed that the great Syrian leader, who knew the refreshing charms of the Damascus rivers, would mention as on a parity with one of them the brawling little 'Awaj.

That hangs about the world's horizon rim;
So sorrow filled her beaker to the brim;
So drank they then, not knowing as their days
So should their strength be, and their pilgrim ways
Were the straight paths to bring them home to Him.
Him must they lose awhile, but for such gain.
As lay within that promise strange and sweet,
His advent-the all-blessed PARACLETE-
Who should make dimness clear and roughness
plain;

In whom that "little while" they should abide,
Still in their Master's love, and at His side.

She came into the schoolroom as usual during the forenoon. After some talk about the lessons, I summoned courage to ask a few minutes' private conversation with her, and the children were sent to the nursery. In the best terms which agitation would allow me to use, I then requested her good offices with Mr. Gordon on my behalf. She listened very graciously, and readily promised to exert her influence for me, making me a handsome compliment on my conduct in the parish and in her family; and she left me very light-hearted and hopeful as to the

issue.

What a day of wind and wet that was! I was not likely to forget a day so exciting in other respects, but the tempest which raged during it has given a peculiar vividness to its recollections. I had no idea

Nahr (river) Taura, Nahr Abanias, Nahr Kanawat, Nahr Yazid, Nahr Barada, Nahr Deirany, Nahr Akrabany. Each is called a river. † According to census of 1870.

of the majesty of a Highland storm till then. It howled round every angle of the house, and shook the windows with a grasp that I feared would burst them in. I stood in mine, and watched the scene without awestruck. The hills, except when the mist racked for a moment, were shrouded from top to bottom in impenetrable vapour; and even the smooth slope between them and the stables was often altogether obscured by the fierce smoke-like rain which swept in wild gusts across it. Down the blasts poured from Glencaird as through a funnel, and the stateliest pines, if exposed to their fury, were weak as bulrushes. They were tossed about like playthings-half a dozen piled upon each other in some spots, their branches inextricably entangled, and their roots, with the earth and turf torn from the soil clinging to them, sticking up in the air. Mr. Gordon's woods next day were like a field of battle strewn with the dead.

It would have been easy for a fanciful imagination to picture shapes in that wildly hurrying mist. I thought of Ossian's spirits of the storm, and almost believed that I saw them. If there is any latent superstition in a mind, be sure a residence in the Highlands will bring it out. The ravages of the tempest extended even to the sheltered lawn and flower garden. The house wall, an angle of which was visible from the schoolroom window, was black with the beating rain, and entirely stripped of the climbing plants which were trained on it; while the

beautifully-kept turf was strewed with twigs torn by the savage blasts from the tossed and tortured evergreens. It would take years to efface the devastation made at Inveruven that day, both gardener and forester ruefully said.

There was something truly sublime in this great tumult of nature, and I felt a strange kind of excitement in witnessing it. We had to give up the lessons as the storm increased. It was impossible to keep either the children's or my own attention fixed upon them while the sleet flashed like lightning past the window, the wind roared so savagely in the chimney, and the very trees on the lawn screeched and groaned as if in agony. The children clung to me in terror, and I tried to soothe them by speaking of Him who holdeth the winds in the hollow of His hand, and who while on earth spoke to such a tempest as this, and lo! there was a great calm.

The storm raged for about four hours with unabated fury; but towards evening the blasts began to sink gradually, and at last there was only a low moaning and wailing through the woods, like that of a child whose passion is exhausted, but who still sobs involuntarily. Now that it was possible to venture out of doors with safety, I went to visit poor Mrs. Macbriar at the manse. A windy, damp walk it was, and I had more than once to climb over fallen trees which obstructed the path through the plantation. What must the higher and more exposed woods have suffered when the more sheltered ones were so ravaged? I found the manse standing bare, with every chimney-can off it, and the gravel in front strewn with their fragments and with broken slates. I did not ask to see Mrs. Macbriar, being informed that some of her relations had arrived that morning to keep her company.

Mr. Gordon had as yet taken no notice of my application to his wife, and I did not know whether to regard it as a bad or a good sign in a man of his proud temper. The uncertainty was agitating, but I trusted it would not continue long; nor did it, for next forenoon while I was giving little Missy her lesson, Jamie Willison appeared, and said that Mr. Gordon wished to see me in the library. The important moment had come. My heart gave a great leap as if it would burst from my side, and for a few seconds I felt dizzy and faint. I did not know till then how strongly I dreaded disappointment. My face must have betrayed my mental agitation, and given so shrewd an observer as Jamie an inkling of the business between the laird and me; for as he followed me down-stairs he whispered, Good luck to you, sir!" with a respectful heartiness that gratified while it surprised

me.

I found Mr. Gordon engaged in writing when I entered the library. He did not raise his eyes from the paper while he desired me to be seated. I was glad enough to sit down, and I waited as composedly as it was possible in the circumstances till he should be at leisure to speak to me. As I watched his pen move so quietly over the page, I could not but contrast his coolness with my agitation, and marvel at it as something extraordinary. In a few minutes he closed and sealed his letter, and then pushing it from him, he deliberately leaned back in his elbowchair and looked at me for the first time.

"Mrs. Gordon has informed me of your application to her, Mr. Morrison," he formally said, without further preface.

I bowed, and tried to say something about my

hope that he would see fit to take it into consideration; but I was so nervous that I doubt if I made my meaning plain. However, it mattered not.

"You are a very respectable young man, Mr. Morrison," he continued, dropping his words slowly, as if unconscious of or indifferent to the anxiety with which I listened, "and I should be glad to further your interests. But there is another gentleman of your cloth who has somewhat stronger claims upon me than you." And here he made a full pause. My heart sank and my hopes filed on hearing these words. It was a bitter disappointment; still I made a struggle and partly rallied from the shock. Rising from my chair-for of course I regarded the intimation that another individual had a prior and superior claim to Mr. Gordon's patronage as a dismissal of the subject-I said respectfully, "that I was far from desirous of interfering with the righteous claims of another, indeed acknowledged that I had no claim whatever upon Mr. Gordon; but that I had hoped if the kirk had not been promised away-" "It is not promised, Mr. Morrison," said Mr. Gordon, coolly interrupting me, and motioning me to resume my seat; "that is, it is not bond fide promised, for I could not foresee the event that has occurred; but the individual I have alluded to, and who is, I believe, a very deserving person, may reasonably expect that any preferment in my power should be bestowed upon him. Circumstances, however, may compel me to disappoint him."

Here Mr. Gordon again paused, and it seemed to me was rather embarrassed. He took up the penknife from the desk and began to trim his nails with it, as if to avoid meeting my looks. I was in much perplexity, not knowing what his last words indicated; but there seemed a glimmer of hope in them, and I waited anxiously till he should again speak.

"The fact is, Mr. Morrison," said Mr. Gordon, suddenly laying down the knife and rising from his seat as with the intention of ending the interview, I, of course, following his example-" the fact is I have been led to believe that you entertain feelings of affection for a young person residing here. Indeed, I may as well acknowledge, since I presume you are already aware of it, that she is a sort of connection of this family. I cannot see any objections to this; you are a worthy young man; will probably make a useful parish minister; and here is an opportunity of benefiting you both. Get Miss Tulloch's consent, then, Mr. Morrison," he added in a more cordial tone than he had ever used before when addressing me, "and I promise that you shall have the presentation to Ballanclutha living as her marriage portion." And lifting his hat and riding-whip, which lay on the table beside him, he made a hasty exit through a door that opened into a back passage in the direction of the stables.

When

"Good sir!-worthy sir!" I faintly called after him, but he heard me not; and I remained for some minutes standing on the spot on which he had left me in such a state of utter dismay and bewilderment that I thought my senses were forsaking me. I had got my ideas a little ravelled out, and had convinced myself that I had heard Mr. Gordon aright, I quitted the library, making a hurried dash up to the schoolroom lest I should encounter Miss Tulloch, of whom I had now a perfect terror, on the road. I did not feel myself secure till I was beside the bairns, who looked astonished to see me return so scared like. "What is it, Mr. Morrison-what is it?" they

conversion? For doubtless the apostle only refers to marriages that were contracted when both parties were destitute of spiritual life.

Besides, Miss Tulloch had the germs of a fractious temper in her, or I was much mistaken, and might not prove a very loving daughter-in-law to my worthy mother, and the securing such a house as Ballanclutha manse for the latter was my strongest temptation to accept Mr. Gordon's terms. My mother, after all, might not be able to put up with my wife, who doubtless would not forget that she was the laird's niece, and Nelly, I was certain, would never sort with her as a mistress. Again, Miss Tulloch had come out of a bad nest, and vices are hereditary as well as diseases-she might be a shame and a reproach to me all my days. And, to crown all, I was not altogether clear in my conscience that to obtain a kirk by such a marriage was not the very worst species of simony.

And so I lay, tossing from side to side and troubled in mind till far on in the night; now inclining a little to this view, now to that, but never getting more reconciled to the thought of Miss Tulloch as a wife. At length said I, "Let me test it by Scripture-to the law and to the testimony '-and abide by what it pronounces;" and, being in great perplexity, I fervently implored God's guidance in this important crisis of my life. And soon that passage came to my mind where the believers of the early Christian church were commanded to marry only "in the Lord." All hesitation was therefore over; as Christian I could not conscientiously enter into the married state with Miss Tulloch; and, having arrived at this conclusion, I drew the blankets round me, my mind recovered its tranquillity, and in a few minutes I was sound asleep.

Varieties.

a

EUPHRATES VALLEY.-Mr. Gaze, the enterprising manager of excursions, has arranged for a trip to places out of the ordinary routes, including Babylon, Nineveh, and other scenes of ancient story in the East. The excursion is planned for the autumn of this year, and if successful will probably lead to similar trips with larger numbers of pilgrims. Mr. Cook's excursions "round the world" are now established as regular events. The public is greatly indebted to these pioneers of modern popular travel, and to their able and experienced assistants.

IRISH SEA-COAST FISHERIES.-Out of 327 fishing vessels which last year paid dues at Kinsale, only ninety-seven Irish boats had been employed in working the mackerel fishery. The majority of boats engaged belonged to Scotland, the Isle of Man, and France, all of which, we understand, had a remunerative season's fishing, and were amply repaid by crossing to Kinsale, where they had little or no opposition to contend against from local boats. The figures quoted present a painful example of the unwillingness or inability of the Irish people to help themselves, or avail themselves of the advantages which a bountiful Providence has provided for them. Here we have at Kinsale a fleet of strange vessels from England, Scotland, and France coming over every year and carrying away from the Irish shores vast quantities of valuable fish, representing a commercial value of many thousands of pounds in excess of that harvested by the Irish themselves. The poverty of the Irish fishermen has been put forward by the Irish Fishery officials and others as a strong and conclusive reason why Government loans should be advanced for the purchase of fishing boats, gear, etc. This we assert to be not only an erroneous, but a very mischievous view to take of the case. The improvement of the Irish fisheries and of the fishermen lies altogether with the Irish people themselves. Banks for the accommodation of farmers are, we are told, yearly becoming more numerous, and plenty of money is lying therein idle, or, at any rate, drawing only a small dividend. Why, we ask, is not some of this invested in

the improvement of the poor fishermen and the development of a large and valuable industry, which, for want of some capital to work, is gradually, the Inspectors tell us, becoming more difficult to resuscitate? Until a more manly and independent view of the case is taken by Irishmen generally and by the fishery officials individually, we have little hope of the Irish people reaping anything but a very slight benefit from the valuable but neglected sea fisheries around the coast. If the "Home Rulers" who have lately been returned to Parliament would take the matter in hand and accomplish the proper working of the Irish sea-coast fishing by native industry, they would undoubtedly remove a very formidable drawback to the advancement of the poor Irishmen, and perhaps achieve at least one measure for which the country might well be grateful.--

Times.

MADRID. The following extract from a letter of Miss Whately gives a lively sketch of Madrid as it appears in summer. In the Sunday at Home" for April Miss Whately gives an interesting report of the religious agencies in operation, from which alone any good hope can arise for the stability or progress of Spain.

Madrid certainly does not deserve, strictly speaking, the appellation of a beautiful city. It offers no striking coup d'œil at first sight, like Cadiz; nor has it any of the quaint picturesqueness of Seville; it has few fine buildings, and scarcely any objects of special interest, except its unrivalled gallery standing in the midst of a flat, desolate plain, it can boast of pensations of its own, and some advantages for residents which no pretty rural suburbs, no country excursions; but it has commany finer and more striking cities cannot boast of.

Few European cities are so completely surrounded with public walks, boulevards, gardens, and avenues; there are few quarters of the town from which verdure and shade cannot be where the Cortes meet; and from our windows we look out on the green shades of the "Buen Retiro," where one may wander for hours among groves, and shrubberies, and gardens, all abundantly watered on an admirable system of irrigation, and therefore green and fresh in the greatest heats of summer; or where those who like boating on a miniature scale can enjoy by the side of the "Estanque," or large artificial piece of water, that diversion, and one has something at all events that looks cool even at noonday in summer.

reached in a short walk. We are located close to the house

Or we may stray into the grove, which has been arranged for the reception of an orchestra and seats, where an excellent band plays two nights in the week through the summer, and we may sit under the trees and enjoy the fresh evening breeze and good music at the same time.

Then we have the Prado, and various paseos, or public walks, branching off from it, with an abundance of trees and fountains, and plots and flowers here and there, and puestos, or small booths, where harmless cooling drinks-lemonade, eau sucrée, and the like are dealt out for a few coppers to the passers-by, a very grateful refreshment in the burning heat of a Madrid

summer.

In the summer evenings, when the short twilight is over, and the cool air and clear starlit sky attract one out of doors, these promenades are alive with strollers; the broad avenue called the "Salon del Prado" is as crowded with elegantlydressed ladies and gentlemen, and loungers of every degree, as any place of public entertainment could be; and certainly on a hot July night one would be inclined to give such a way of meeting one's friends the preference over a close and crowded saloon. It is a very gay scene. Parties of children are driven along in little carriages, decorated with gaily-coloured paper lanterns; families and groups of friends occupy the seats by the side of the footpath; the shrubberies and gardens are sparkling with lights, and the whole seems like a fairy scene. On the eve of a saint's day, fireworks and other noisy demonstrations are added to these everyday accompaniments of the Madrid summer evening, and there is little chance of sleep till the small hours of the night are well advanced. The Madrilenians appear to spend almost the whole night abroad, and children keep the same hours as their parents, somewhat to the detriment of their health, as we should suppose.

"But how do you manage to live in the capital of so disturbed a country" our friends write us word; "are you not in continual dread of a revolution?"

It cannot be denied that we have had occasional panies; but hitherto it is wonderful how little real disturbance has taken place. The people live in a kind of chronic excitement, but it seems to evaporate in talking. One day we go out to walk, and find crowds collected at the doors of the Hall of Deputies, eagerly listening for news, and detailing it to each other; at the

streets.

cludes:-"On seeing papers in his hands, the Prince rose, shook hands with me, and invited me to a party next evening, when he said he would have great pleasure in introducing me to some German members of Parliament. A word in conclusion. While conversing the Prince played with a couple of gigantic lead pencils. They were long enough to do service as walkingsticks. When dilating upon the unprofitable results sure to ensue from annexing Austrian territory, he said, 'We do not want to annex anything-not even so much as could be covered by this pencil.' I said to myself that on my large map of Austria that pencil would just reach from the Bohemian frontier to Trieste."

I obtained one day a place in the "Tribune," or gallery in the Hall of Deputies allotted to lady spectators. It was so crowded that it was only by standing on tiptoe, and stretching one's neck, that even a glance could be had of the assembly below.

No one wore a hat; a deputy, whose name escaped me, was holding forth very eagerly, but the confusion in the whole assembly was such that it was impossible to catch a word. There was a constant coming and going, a byplay of loud "asides," one and another continually interrupting the speaker, and requesting to be heard; the president every few moments ringing a little bell, by way, we supposed, of attempting to keep order, but only adding to the general hubbub and confusion.

PRINCE BISMARCK AT HOME.-Herr von Jokai, the eminent Hungarian poet, patriot, and statesman, accidentally finding himself in Berlin, was lately received by Prince Bismarck, and gives the following account of the notable Chancellor as he found him in his home :-"I succeeded in obtaining an audience of Prince Bismarck the day after my arrival at Berlin. It was a peculiar audience. He spoke and I listened. He received me at 9 p.m., a comparatively early hour, as he is in the habit of seeing visitors after midnight. His mansion is the most unpretending in the whole Wilhelm Strasse, and so is the porter you meet at the door. The man wears no livery, nor does he carry a baton or any other insignia of office. I rang, he opened, and had me conducted into an ante-room lighted up by one remarkably simple lamp. Passing through a room beyond this, I entered the study of the famous Chancellor. I was struck by the same absence of pomp, or even elegance, which I had noticed in the other apartments. A few chairs, an iron couch, an iron chest, and an iron man seated at an enormous writing. table. When I add that a huge St. Bernard's dog sleepily looked at me from under a couch, I have enumerated the whole contents of the room. Prince Bismarck is a man of athletic height and breadth. He stands rather more than six feet in his shoes, has shoulders to match, and powerful hands, with a grip of cast-steel. I was astonished to find him so different from his portraits, which represent him as gloomy and moroselooking, and altogether do not do him justice. He has light, confident eyes, a healthy, clear complexion, a martial mous tache, and a wonderfully high, broad forehead. He reminded me of Deak, and in fact is the very type of a Hungarian nobleman of the olden times. The Prince kindly stopped the wellturned phraseology with which I was opening the conversation. He said he was glad to find me still so young. He had read my first productions years ago in the Allgemeine Zeitung, then a very clever paper, as he significantly added. Upon my telling him my age he replied that he was ten years my senior, and offered me a cigar, which he had fished out of the iron chest. I told him I was no smoker; neither is he so far as cigars are concerned, his habitual companion being a meerschaum pipe of extraordinary proportions. Just as we were sitting down a door opened, giving admission to the Princess and her daughter. Both were in splendid evening dress. The Princess, a truly aristocratic lady, of imposing beauty even now; the young Countess, an ideal form beaming with youth and grace. They were about to go to the Palace, and came to say good-by. Bismarck dismissed them with a patriarchal kiss, charging them to convey his respects to their Majesties." Then followed a long and deeply interesting conversation, interrupted only by

MODERN GREECE.-The plough of Hesiod is still the scienseed, and donkeys carrying this classic instrument, followed by tific implement in use to prepare the ground for the reception of Athenian landed proprietors, each accompanied by two oxen, may be seen every morning at daybreak passing before the national university and the Royal palace. Those who combine zeal for useful knowledge with a taste for classic lore will find a detailed description of this Greek plough in Colonel Leake's "Travels in Northern Greece," with a drawing of the instrument as perfected by the experience of 3,000 years, and with the Greek names of all the parts of which it is composed. — Times' Correspondent.

PACIFIC RAILWAY.-The revenue of the two divisions of the Pacific-the Union Pacific and the Central Pacific-in 1873, were, Union Pacific, 13,938,969 dols.; Central Pacific, thus 10,266,104 dols. The gross revenue of 1873 was 24,205,073 dols., as compared with 21,627,335 dols. in 1872, 16,988,754 dols. in 1871, and 15,649,210 dols. in 1870. Comparing 1873 with 1870, it will thus be seen that in three years the Pacific established an increase in its receipts of no less than 55 per cent.-Railway Times.

COOPER INSTITUTE, NEW YORK.-The American correspondent of the "Echo" reports that "One of the most interesting gatherings seen in New York for a long time was the reception, by the Arcadian Club, of Peter Cooper on the eighty-third anniversary of his birthday. Mr. Cooper is known, not only in New York, but all over the Union, and is known only to be respected and honoured. Born in this city a poor boy nearly a century ago, he has seen New York increase from a population of 33,000 to nearly a million. He has watched the country grow with equal rapidity. Mr. Cooper, when a boy, helped his father to make hats, was next apprenticed to a coach and waggon builder, and first began to make money by his invention of an improvement in shearing cloth machines during the war of 1812. His present fortune was, however, principally acquired by the manufacture and sale of glue, which he carried on for sixty years. He also early took part in the development of our iron industry, and built the first locomotive turned out on this continent. His great wealth has been used to benefit his fellow-citizens. Twenty years ago he founded the Cooper Institute, a sort of people's free university for instruction in science and art as applied to useful every-day purposes. The building, which will always be Mr. Cooper's best monument, stands at the head of the Bowery, where that great thoroughfare bifurcates into Third and Fourth Avenues, and contains free library, reading-rooms and classes and lectures, attended by 2,500 pupils. In Mr. Cooper's speech on the occasion, he thus spoke of his old age:- Measured by the achievements of the years I have seen, I am one of the oldest men who have ever lived; but I do not feel old, and I propose to give the receipt by which I have preserved my youth. I have always given a friendly welcome to new ideas, and I have endeavoured not to feel too old to learnand thus, though I stand here with the snows of so many winters upon my head, my faith in human nature, my belief in the progress of man to a better social condition, and especially my trust in the ability of men to establish and maintain selfgovernment, are as fresh and as young as when I began to travel the path of life. While I have always recognised that the object of business is to make money in an honourable manner, I have endeavoured to remember that the object of life is to do good.

A KINDLY HINT.-I was riding to the country poor-house to preach to its inmates, and a friend with me asked me what was to be the subject of my sermon. I said, "These words: The poor have the gospel preached unto them.' My friend was silent a moment, and said, "It's hard enough to be poor without being told of it." "You are right," I said, "that's sound philosophy as well as Christian kindness: we shall do them more good by giving them the gospel and saying not a word of their being poor."-Dr. Irenæus Prime.