teers and camel-drivers, who are waiting for the cover of the night to proceed to Damascus with their precious loads of wheat. Hearing that we have seen no Arabs on the way, the caravan files off immediately. The people of Burâk also gather sullenly round, but neither help nor hinder us. When I renew my acquaintance with the sheikh, he gives me to understand that their water is entirely exhausted, and though we are willing to pay for it at any price, we can only obtain about two pints, which has been treasured up all day in a dirty skin, after having been carried seven or eight miles on the back of a donkey. The tea manufactured from this fluid is of a hue that would delight the eyes of a Persian, but its taste is strongly suggestive of leather broth, and as no amount of sugar will neutralise the flavour of raw hide, we swallow down the bitter beverage like medicine.

Our attempts to sleep in Burâk prove even a greater failure than our attempts to make tea, for though the colonists of the place are not numerous, they have brought a very abundant and healthy supply of black and white fleas with them, which seem to live and thrive among the ruins of the town, rendering sleep all but impossible. The first man I see in looking from my tent in the morning is a soldier whom I once found in the north of Syria robbing some peasants of truffles that they had spent the day in digging. The peasants appealed to me, and I forced the soldier in a somewhat high-handed manner to return the stolen property; so I have doubts on what footing I am to meet this bandit; but as soon as I issue from the tent he comes up and claims me as an old friend. We are at once reminded that we are in the Lejah-the refuge--the region to which Absalom fled after the murder of his brother, and the place where this ruffian is safe, after having stabbed a shepherd to the heart for defending his sheep. This rock-girt land has been in all ages the home of the enemy of man, and there are few men in the whole district whose hands have not been defiled by some foul deed. And never was land more suited to its inhabitants. Black discharges from the bowels of the earth "gloom the land" with a scene that might become the landscape of Dante's Inferno, and amid these scenes and landscapes lurk to-day assassins of every hue, and communities red from the perpetration of wholesale massacre. Nor is the right hand likely to forget its dangerous cunning among these congenial scenes, for on my first visit here that tall son of the sheikh, then a barefooted lad, boasted that a few days before he had killed four Arabs by his own hand, and the boast was confirmed by others with circumstances of time and place.

Leaving exact measurements and architectural details to the scientific party who have undertaken the exploration of these trans-Jordanic regions, I cannot help at once expressing disappointment with the actual ruins, especially after the exaggerated accounts of them which we have read. The style of architecture is peculiar, but not wonderful. There is little wood, but much stone, in the region, and as security is the great end in view in building a house in the Hauran, the people find stone much more suitable than wood. It is curious, no doubt, to see stone roofs, and stone doors and windows, on a house, but it cannot be considered wonderful that the people made their houses of the material which was most abundant and most suitable to their wants.

The people of the Lejah built their houses as the feudal lords built their castles: they could fight outside the walls, retreat to their courts, and finally retire within the stone keep, and sleep soundly behind the stone doors and shutters. Thus the houses, though peculiar, are exactly suited to the circumstances of the country and the necessities of the people.

A few of the houses are in a sufficiently perfect state of preservation to enable one to get a good general idea of the habitations of Bashan. The walls of the houses are from three to five feet thick, and from eight to twelve feet high, built of squared basalt stones well fitted together. Stone plank-like slabs, three or four yards long and about half a yard broad, are laid across from wall to wall, and rest on a projecting cornice which runs round the room. In some of the houses are very massive semicircular arches, on which the roofs rest. The doors and windows, which are generally small, are of black stone. Some of the doors, however, even of private houses, are nearly six feet high. The doors are generally folding, and they are hung by means of pivots, which project from the doors into holes in the lintels and thresholds. They are sometimes ornamented with panels and knobs and flowers, but those in Burâk are mostly plain, well-dressed solid slabs, from six to ten inches thick. A few of the houses had second stories, but owing to the accumulation of débris the lower stories of some of the houses are almost concealed. As in all the villages of the Hauran, the houses seem to stand on a mound of black earth, while in reality they are built on the foundations of houses of a more remote antiquity. I descended in one place a depth of sixteen or eighteen feet to see some pottery lately discovered, and I found the walls at that depth formed of enormous undressed and unsquared stones, unlike the stones of the superstructure, which are smaller in size, and have been better prepared for the walls.

Burak must have been a town of considerable importance in comparatively peaceful times. It was built upon the rugged rampart that surrounds the Lejah with its "munition of rocks," and was thus easily defended. As far as we penetrated the dreadful lava bed at Burâk, we found few signs of cultivation, though there is pasturage for goats; but there are vast arable plains that sweep up like a sea to the rock-girt coast on which Burak stands. A few Druze families who now occupy Burâk cultivate a patch of the plain, within musket range of their houses, and are amply rewarded. They plough, and sow, and reap, with primed muskets slung from their shoulders; but if they were protected from the raids of the Arabs, thousands of men would here find a remunerative field for their labour. Even in comparatively peaceful times a good harvest may be gathered unto the threshing-floors among the rocks, where the villagers can defend themselves.

The position of Burâk, on the edge of an immense fertile plain, must have rendered it an important town. But it had other advantages. It was the nearest port to Damascus, on the coast of the Lejah, being the most northern town of that region. It also lay on the nearest route to Bathaniyeh, or the Druze mountain, and was thus an emporium of exports and imports. From these abiding causes of prosperity, we should naturally suppose that Burak, like Damascus, would be too tempting a prey to the destroyer to have many ancient buildings remain

ing; but as Burak seems to havo fallen early under the destroying blight of Islam, and never to have recovered, the ruins are of considerable antiquity. There can be little doubt that most of the houses which are still standing were built in early Christian times, and when Christianity was triumphant, for we find on all the best houses crosses and other Christian emblems, which are evidently of the same date as the buildings themselves; and some of these crosses and Christian emblems are to be seen on lintels of doors, which have been so buried up that they are now lower than the surface of the streets. The Greek of the inscriptions appears to be that of the period between the second and fifth centuries of our era. The Cufic inscriptions were evidently scratched on the stones in situ in the walls, and do not, I believe, mark the date of any building in Burak. All the coins and medals I found in Burak were those of Constantine and his immediate successors.

There is reason to conjecture that Burák is the ancient Constantia, whose bishop, Solemus, was present at the Council of Chalecdon, in the fifth century (A.D. 451). Hierocles places the episcopal city Constantia among the cities of Arabia, and by the side of Phaena, the modern Musmeih; and Mr. Waddington remarks that inasmuch as the name Flavius is found on all the inscriptions of Burák, it confirms the supposition that the town was founded or embellished by Constantine. Whatever may have been the ancient name of the town, there is no doubt that the ruins which we now see are on the top of ruins older still, and in the walls of the most ancient-looking structures we see bits of lintels and fragments of ornaments rifled from more ancient structures. Towards the outskirts of the town there are rude houses, sometimes built over caves, and against the stones of these houses no tool has ever been lifted up; but as these houses are composed of material in its primitive state, it would be equally bold to predicate either their great antiquity or otherwise. That the town is of great antiquity, however, does not admit of a doubt, since its most modern structures date from the time of the Roman occupation of England. Nor will it be doubted that beneath that raised mound are buried the remains of one of the "threescore cities" that once existed in Bashan, and which still exist under changed circumstances, sometimes under different names.

The present name of Burak signifies tanks or reservoirs, a name which did not suggest to us that our poor horses would have to pass the night without water, and that we ourselves would have to put up with a few cupfuls of greasy fluid that no dog with any self-respect would drink. Names in this country are generally significant, and south-east of the town aro extensive aqueducts leading to a large tank or reservoir in the suburbs. The aqueducts are of course broken down and neglected; and the reservoir was filled up with stones by Ibrahim Pasha, the Egyptian (of whom more anon), as a war measure, when he sought in vain to bend the Druzes to his will. This barbarian custom of destroying the water-supplies of the enemy has been practised in this land since the days of Abraham (Gen. xxvi. 15). The Philistines of war stop up the wells, and the innocent and the guilty suffer together. And this act of impotent wrath, on the part of the great

"Inscriptions Creques et Latines," page 370,

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Egyptian, has rendered this village uninhabitable, except after rainy years. When Burckhardt and Porter visited this place they found it entirely uninhabited. There are now in the village six or seven families who have come from Aleppo, under the leadership of Abu Khattar, their sheikh. For the first few years after their arrival they were comparatively happy, as they had only the Arabs to contend against. If the Arabs came in small bands they fought them, and a fight is always popular; but if they came in large numbers they gave them black mail, known in Arabic by the name 'brotherhood." The government has now found them out, and a good deal of their time is spent in concealing their property and their numbers from the official tax-gatherers, who are, as a rule, only legalised brigands. From force of habit they attempted to conceal their numbers from us, but we shall not be far wrong in estimating them at sixty souls.

Leaving the village, we wind down, over the ropelike lip of the Lejali, into the margin of the plain. Last year, four days later in the year, when I visited Burak, the whole plain was covered with a little lilac flower which made the air heavy with its rich perfume. Scarcely a blade of it is to be seen this year. The difference may be accounted for by last spring coming after a wet winter, and this spring succeeding a dry winter. Swarms of Greek partridges (Caccabis saxatilis) are running over the rocks about us, and as we do not wish to abandon our servant, who is delayed in the village settling for the teapotful of dirty water that we got last night, we occupy the time during our halt in knocking over a few partridges for dinner. We abstain, however, from killing more than we need. The process of bagging partridges in Syria is very different from the same operation in England. The partridge here is a larger and stronger bird than the common partridge (Perdix cinerea) at home, and as game laws are hero unknown, the birds look sharply after partridge preservation themselves. An old cock, with good eye and voice, is generally stationed on a prominent rock, and when danger approaches he gives a peculiar cry of warning, and then slips down off the stone, and runs from the danger, and all the partridges in the neighbourhood follow the sentinel's example. They run about as fast as a common dog, and the sportsman must go at the speed of a greyhound to overtake them. The usual and most successful method is to walk slowly towards the partridge till it disappears behind the rocks, then rush with all your might to the spot where you last saw it, and continue running till the bird rises. This it does with a tremendous screech and whirr, and you must fire quickly or the bird is gone like a rocket. The natives conceal themselves about wells and springs, and slaughter the poor birds when they come to drink, and they sometimes employ a decoy partridge in a cage to call its free friends to their doom.

Those who, like us, are constantly travelling through the wilds of Syria without the luxurious impedimenta of a dragoman, find these partridges, which are equally distributed over the country, a great source of comfort and economy, especially as without them we should have to buy a whole sheep, and slaughter it, every time we wished to indulge in the luxury of a meat dinner. The cook plucks the partridges as we go along, and on our arrival at a village at night they are placed in a pot with rice and water, and a stew is soon prepared, which is very palatable atter

each side and close to the windows isolated crimson-cushioned easy-chairs (eighteen in all), in which, by means of a pivot, you might swing yourself round to converse with your neighbour, or, by means of one of the thousand ingenious contrivances with which the whole train abounded, you might tilt yourself back to the proper angle of enjoyment. This disposition of seats left the centre free for passing to and fro, and allowed room, if one had been so minded, for easy promenading. Walking out towards the next saloon you paused to inspect various snug little saloons of the private box order, in which a small family party might make themselves very happy for a few days. Then you came to the drawing-room sleeping-car, another long, wellappointed saloon, with fixed seats at the windows like short sofas, two and two, and facing each other. Between them a firm convenient table could be planted, and upon one of them we were able, while the train ran at over fifty miles an hour, to write without difficulty. The tables removed, the seats lowered to meet each other became an admirable bedstead, while some beautifully ornamented and finished panels overhead, that appeared to be merely part of the sloping roof of the saloon, were unfastened, and in a moment converted into equally comfortable upper berths. By-and-by the saloon was restored to its normal drawing-room aspect, the tables were again put up, waiters entered with snow-white cloths, pantries and anterooms were brought into operation, and there appeared a dining-hall as complete in its requirements as the drawing. room and sleeping-room had been in theirs. In America, to these apartments are added hotel cars, possessing a regular kitchen and buffet, with appliances for supplying according to need either a public dinner or private banquet. The workmanship, especially the cabinet work, of these cars is beyond praise. It is American, as are the wood (finely-grained walnut) and metals, the designs and inventions. By aid of the latter, and a free use of indiarubber, rattling and rumbling are reduced to a minimum; the windows and doors are framed so as to admit of no lateral motion; and the floors are double, with intervening space filled with shavings, to muffle the sound of wheels. Fresh air continually enters through fine wire gauze, which, however, excludes dust. The manifold conveniences offered to the fortunate inhabitant of the Pullman car we do not pretend to detail, but the list includes water, soap, towel, mirrors, and brushes; sofas, chairs, footstools; time tables, telegraph forms, playing cards; boot-blacking, clothes-brushing, and a conductor and waiter sworn to attention and courtesy. Between New York and Philadelphia business men make the car their hotel. They "turn in " hours before the train starts, and sleep on at the other end while it is shunted to a side line. They are awakened to order, make their toilet, leave their portmanteaus behind them, and go off to business, returning at night to sleep their way home to New York.

BORE ON THE SEVERN.-A most remarkable natural phenomenon was observed on the morning of Friday, March 20. A gigantic tidal wave called the "Bore" made its expected appearance, accompanied by an unusually high tide, in the Severn. Anxious to see if the salmon fisheries would be affected by it, I, in company with Messrs. Cadle and Bennett, of Westbury-onSevern, members of the Board of Salmon Conservators, and the Rev. the Vicar of the parish, waited the arrival of the Bore at Denny Rocks, five miles below Gloucester. At 9.20 A.M. some boys perched high in a tree shouted out the warning, "Flood O! Flood O!" and then to a minute of her time up came the Bore, sweeping with a magnificent curve round a bend in the river. Hurrying towards us with fearful force and velocity, rushed a dense wall of water, curling over with foam at its summit, and extending right across from bank to bank. As the wave approached nearer and nearer, the "voice of many waters," accompanied by a strange and sudden blast of cold wind, was truly awe-inspiring. In an instant the bore swept past us with a mighty rush and the whirl of a thousand Derbys passing the grand stand. Two angry precipices of water, the escorts on either side of this terrible wave, swept with terrific weight and power along the banks, throwing high up into the air, and well above the pollard trees, a sheet of water mixed with mud and sticks. We all cheered the bore as she passed, so grandly were Nature's race-horses running their course. In a few moments after the bore had passed, the river, which had been rather low before, was "full up" from bank to bank, and having previously taken marks, I ascertained that the sudden rise of the water was between eleven and twelve feet. An old man told me that this was as good a head as he had seen for forty years. The tide following the bore rose with great rapidity, and flooded the fields and roads far and near. It was most interesting to see a barge plunge up like a rearing horse to take the bore, while some frightened ducks swam out into the river and topped the

or

wave in a most graceful manner. The bore is thus formed. A great tidal wave coming in from the Atlantic is narrowed by the funnel-shaped estuary of the Severn; it is then pushed forward by the weight of the ocean behind; mixed sea and river waters then assume the form of a wave, which, beginning below Newnham, increases its height as the banks narrow, and ultimately subsides above Gloucester. A bore also runs up the Solway and the Humber, where it is called the ". eagre "hygre." I understand from Mr. Miller, the lessee of the salmon fisheries at Chepstow, that the bore first takes its wavelike shape at the narrowing of the channel between Beachley, near Chepstow, and a point south to Aust. At this point there is a ridge, or rather long slope of rocks, over which there is a six feet fall, of a sloping shape, at spring tides. There is another great slope in the sands between Gatcombe and Awre, on the north bank of the river, and here again the bore heightens itself, and the farther it goes up the river from this point, the higher it becomes as the channel becomes narrower. On one occasion only has Mr. Miller seen the bore run up the Wye; the wave was then from twelve to eighteen inches high only. Mr. Miller informs me that old Mr. Jones, of Chepstow, has told him over and over again that the highest tide he ever knew in the Wye was from forty-five to forty-seven feet. He has never known it to rise fifty feet.-Frank Buckland.

FEMALE ARTIFICIAL DEFORMITY.-Poor little things, I pass hundreds every day, trying to hide their littleness by the nasty mass of false hair-or what does duty for it; and by the ugly and useless hat which is stuck upon it, making the head look ridiculously large and heavy; and by the high heels on which they totter forward, having forgotten, or never learned, the simple art of walking.-Canon Kingsley.

MADELEY.-A correspondent at Stafford ("W.J.") corrrects a statement in the memoir of Izaak Walton, ante, p. 152, as to Madeley Manor. The Madeley associated with Rev. Mr. Fletcher's memory is in Shropshire, near Iron Bridge, which at that place crosses the Severn. Walton's Madeley Manor is near Madeley Station, on the London and North Western Railway, two miles north of Whitmore, i.c., between Stafford and Crewe. Nooton Bridge, another station on the same line, and nearer Stafford, is where Walton's old house stands, a short distance from the "up" line of rails for Stafford,

note.

A CURE FOR LOSS OF TEMPER.--When M. de Persigny was French Minister of the Interior, he received a visit one day from a friend, who, on sending up his name, was shown into the great man's sanctum. A warm discussion arose between them. Suddenly an usher entered, and handed the minister a On opening it he at once changed his tone of voice, and assumed a quiet and urbane manner. Puzzled as to the contents of the note, and by the marked effect it had suddenly produced upon the minister, his friend cast a furtive glance at it, when, to his astonishment, he perceived that it was simply a plain sheet of paper without a scratch upon it! puzzled than ever, the gentleman, after a few minutes, took his leave, and proceeded to interrogate the usher, to whom he was well known, for he himself had been Minister of the Interior. "You have," said he, "just handed to the minister a note, folded up, which had a most extraordinary effect upon him. Now it was a plain sheet of paper with nothing written upon it. What did it mean?" "Sir," replied the usher,

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here is the explanation, which I must beg you to keep secret, for I do not wish to compromise myself. My master is very warm, and very liable to lose his temper. As he himself is aware of his weakness, he has ordered me, each time that his voice is raised sufficiently to be audible in the anteroom, without delay to place a sheet of paper in an envelope, and take it to him. That reminds him that his temper is getting the better of him, and he at once calms himself. Just now I heard his voice rising, and immediately carried out my instructions."

UNITED STATES' UNCULTIVATED LAND.—In a recent report made to the House of Representatives by the Committee on Public Lands it is stated that there are yet 1,200,000,000 acres of public lands in the country that are unsurveyed. Out of the vast area of the public lands of the United States, however, after deducting swamp lands, deserts, mountains, and railway and other grants, it is estimated that the whole amount of arable lands available for settlement cannot now exceed 350 to

400 millions of acres. Last year nearly four millions of acres were taken up by homestead settlers, and the estimate of the Committee is that before a century elapses all the arable lands of the country will be absorbed