There is not a boat on the lake, and, in all probability, never has been. The eldest Arabs have no recollection of ever having seen a boat there. Pliny speaks of cane rafts which the Arabs used to gather the bitumen; but for three centuries, the fact of no boat being on the lake, has been alluded to by travellers. Ali Bey alone, a few years ago, describing the Dead Sea from the summit of a mountain four-andtwenty miles distant, declares that he distinctly saw the vessels on the lake so agitated by the motion of the waters, that he considers the name of Dead Sea as inappropriately applied. The telescope of this traveller must have been furnished with a very magnifying lens.

The most extraordinary circumstance, perhaps, to be remarked is, that there is no visible outlet to the lake, notwithstanding that the Jordan is continually flowing into it. Dr. Shaw calculates that the Jordan daily sends into the Dead Sea, six millions and ninety thousand tons of water, and yet there is never any visible increase or diminution in the height of the water, though Chateaubriand erroneously states that it varies at different periods. Its greatest breadth does not exceed ten miles, and its extreme length about seventy.

(From Madden's Travels in Turkey.)

ADVENTURE WITH A RHINOCEROS.

A correspondent of the Bengal Hurkaru says, that, being on a visit at the quarantine station at Edmonstone Island, he was informed that a rhinoceros had several times made his appearance close to the residence at Middleton Point, on Saugor Island. I was requested (says he) being a killer, to go over and try my luck. I did so, and made preparation for a regular set-to. A stage being erected on a tree close to a tank at which my customer was in the habit of drinking every night, I there, in company with the resident at the Point, took my seat at eight o'clock in the evening, it being then quite dark. My first cheeroot had not been quite burnt out, when a noise from the jungle in the rear warned us of an approach. From the noise I thought it was an elephant. Our anxiety, you may be sure, was very intense; however, in a very few minutes a very large animal showed his back within thirty yards of us. I saw it, and immediately pointed it out to my companion through the gloom, and we both agreed that it was our friend. His approach was slow, grazing as he came along, until almost immediately under us, and then we fired. He seemed a little astonished, but did not move. The second volley (for we were well armed, having two double barrels each) disturbed him; he turned sharp round, and made off with a curious snorting noise like an overgrown hog. He had the benefit of eight balls, which were, at the distance of fifteen yards, poured upon his impenetrable hide; but he seemed to mind them no more than so many peas. Ten minutes had hardly elapsed before he came again, but not on the same ground; he strolled along rather cautiously towards the tank. We had another beautiful view of him, and again fired together as before, when, I am sorry to say, the gun of my friend burst, blowing off two of his fingers on the left hand, and slightly wounding me in the arm. Nothing was now left for us but to go home; and at that time of night, and in such a place, with such an animal in our neighbourhood was no joke. My friend took a cutlass, and I took two of my guns. We cautiously descended the tree, and made good our retreat.

A month and a half passed before the hand of my friend had healed, when we determined upon another attack, but in a different manner. The artillery of the station (two six-pounders) were placed in his path, and there we agreed to watch his approach. Every thing was got in readiness. The moon was favourable, and we took our station at the old look-out tree in the evening. The first start which we made was ominous, a tiger springing almost from under our feet as I was levelling the guns. One was pointed to sweep the corner of the tank, and the other to take him if he came in a different direction. A long tedious night passed, and no rhinoceros. The tiger above mentioned prowled about the tree all night, but we could not get a shot at him.Another night passed in like manner, but the third night at ten o'clock, our old friend

once more showed himself. Down I jumped to my post at the gun, but he saw my movements, and vanished. Nearly an hour passed before he again made his appearance but when he did come, I got him right before my gun, and as I was raising the match to fire, he charged full at me: but he was too late, the fatal spark had done its duty, and the canister met him half way. I lost no time in getting up the tree, for you may be sure the idea of his ugly horn being near me was not at all comfortable, it gave me, however, surprising agility, and I stumbled over my friend, who was coming down to assist me. In the midst of the confusion, a terrible groan proclaimed our victory. The next morning we found he had run nearly fifty yards, and there fell to rise no more. Many of the shot had taken effect. One (the fatal one) in the left eye, three in the shoulder, one in the flank, passing through his kidney and the hind quarter. His dimensions were twelve feet in length, without the tail, which made two more, seven feet high, and thirteen in circumference. Altogether he is a perfect monster. On opening him, one of the leaden balls of our first attack was found in his stomach, and appeared to be mortifying the flesh all round. I had a tough job to skin him, &c. Five of our balls were cut out. The flesh of the animal was greedily devoured by the famished crew of a Burmese boat, which arrived at the Point in distress.

(Alexander's East India Magazine.)

(SELECTED.)

AN AFFECTING STORY.

'Have the goodness to buy a nosegay of a poor orphan!' said a female voice, in a plaintive and melodious tone, as I was passing the Haymarket: I turned, and beheld a girl of fourteen, whose drapery, though ragged, was clean, and her form such as a painter might have chosen for a youthful Venus-her neck, without covering, was of the purest white-and her features, though not perfectly beautiful, were interesting, and set off by a transparent complexion-her dark and intelligent eyes were shaded by loose ringlets of raven black, which shed their sweetly supplicating beams through the silken shade of long lashes. On one arm hung a basket of roses,-the other was stretched towards me with a bud. I drew from my pocket some money: Take this, sweet innocent,' said I, putting it into her hand, and may thy existence and thy virtues be long preserved l' I was turning from her, when she burst into a flood of tears. Her look touched my soul. I was melted by the gratitude of this poor girl, and a drop of sympathy fell from my own cheek. I returned to console her, when she added as follows, Your's, Sir, have been the first kind words I have heard since I lost all that was dear to me on earth !'-A sob interrupted her discourse. Oh, Sir,' she continued, 'I have no father-no mother-no relation: alas! I have no friend in the world!' She was silent for a moment before she could proceed :-' my only friend is God! on him, therefore, will I rely-O, may I support, with fortitude, the miseries I am born to experience,—and may that God ever protect you.' She dropped a courtsey, full of humility and native grace-I returned her benediction, and went on.

"And can I thus leave thee, poor creature?' said I, as I walked pensively on— 'Can I leave thee for ever-without emotion? What have I done that can entitle me to thy prayers? Preserved thee, for a few days, from death-that is all! And shall I quit thee, fair blossom, to see thee no more? Leave thee to be destroyed by the rude blast of adversity;-to be cropped by some cruel spoiler ;-to drop thy lovely head beneath the blight of early sorrow?-No! thou hast budded under the sweet sunshine of domestic content, and under it thou shalt bloom.' I returned to her,my heart beating with its newly-formed purpose. The beautiful flower girl was again before meI took her by the hand-the words of triumphant virtue burst from my lips, Come, lovely forlorn! come, and add one more to that happy group that call me-father. Their home shall be thine-thou shalt share their comforts-thou shalt be taught with them, that virtue alone constitutes true happiness.' Her eyes flashed with frantic joyshe flung herself upon her knees before me, and burst into rapturous tears-I raised her in my arms—I hushed her eloquent gratitude, and led her to a home of peace and tranquility. She loves my children-she loves their father--and the orphan of the Haymarket is now the wife of my son.

ELEGY

On the Death of the late much-esteemed brother RICHARD PARKS, near Marple, Derbyshire, who died August, 1835.

And can it be, that thou my friend art dead?
So early called from life, so sad a doom;
But vain and fruitless are the tears we shed,
These pangs of woe can never reach the tomb.

Yet, blest spirit, "the broken minded sigh,"
Which my soul pays, do thou in bliss receive;
'Twas e'er the lot of excellence to die,"
And must be nature's mystery to grieve.

What must the anguish of thy parents be,
That thou didst die from home, resign thy breath
'Mongst strangers ;-alas! thy mother could not see
Her darling son in sickness or in death.

Time, time, rush'd furiously o'er thy form,
"Disease play'd havoc," and did dissever

Thee from this life;—a sigh, and the rude storm
Had ceas'd, and thou wert gone for ever.

But here reflection easily may find,
The spider web of every human state;
Since all the noblest virtues of the mind

Could not exempt thee from the stroke of fate.

Allow me to assure you that the "Black Diamond" perfectly concurs in the propriety of your remark, that communications of a similar nature to the one he last transmitted to you, would wear a better appearance were the real signature of the writer appended.

In palliation of this breach of propriety, the "Black Diamond" would urge, that the letter he forwarded to you was his maiden communication to a work like yours, and he was consequently impressed with that certain nervous fearfulness which generally associates itself with the first attempt of a young writer, and which, in this instance, induced him to take shelter under the convenient masque of a fictitious signature. The "Black Diamond" has carefully read the last number of the Magazine, and feels great pleasure in acknowledging, that the remarks in his letter were uncalled for, In this district and neighbourhood the new series of our periodical has given the highest satisfaction, and I doubt not its circulation will progressively increase.

As you complain of a dearth of matter for the Magazine, I am tempted to send you herewith, a sample of my success with the Muses, which, should you consider worthy of insertion in your next number, I should feel great pride in seeing admitted there the two following Sonnets.

SONNET.

On seeing a Hyacinth in blossom in Winter.

NE'ER can I gaze on thee, sweet blushing flower,
But through this trembling heart a rushing tide
Of mem'ry's varied flood will sweetly glide,
With soothing visions rife of life's young hour,
When Nature's simplest charms to please had power;
And nought my youthful spirit more enjoy'd,
Than careless rambles ta'en at even-tide,

When clad in Spring's bright guise lay field and bower:
The sunny mead bestrew'd with laughing eyes

Of modest daisy bright ;-the leafy dell,

Where trembling hangs thy sister's azure bell,
At sight of thee with grateful freshness rise:
Thus secret sympathy a charm supplies,

Which link'd but with a stone, that stone we prize.

SONNET.

On hearing the Wind at Midnight.

THE howling midnight winds around my door
Their ceaseless awful vigils vigorous keep,
With dismal chaunt affrighting peaceful sleep,
Who startled, flies the deep unearthly roar
That down the smoky void doth thund'ring pour.
Commix'd with whistlings wild, that piercing creep
Each tiny crevice through, and gusts that sweep,
With hollow cadence sad, the tall trees o'er.
Our skill, how vain! to shew the hidden source
Whence flow those ærial streams wide o'er this earth;
Or all-unerring trace their trackless source

Since haply zephyrs bland they first had birth,

Till now,

like voice of youth, hoarse, changed with age, Their infant sighs have gain'd the storm's loud rage! Your's, in F. L. & T.

Stanhope Lodge, Horseley Woodhouse, Jan. 1836.

BLACK DIAMOND.

A GOLDEN RULE.

INDUSTRY will make a man a purse, and FRUGALITY will find him string for it. Neither the purse nor the string will cost him anything. He who has it should only draw the strings as Frugality directs, and he will be sure to find a useful penny at the bottom of it, at any time, to help a brother in distress. The servants of Industry are known by their livery, it is always whole and wholesome. Idleness travels very leisurely, and poverty soon overtakes him. Look at the ragged slaves of Idleness, and judge which is the best master to serve--Industry or Idleness.

VOL. 4-No. 2-M.

BUTTERFLIES.

"Roving for ever from flower to flower,

And kissing all buds that are pretty and sweet!"-T. Haynes Bayly.

"Anima, vagula, blandula."-Adrian's Address to his Soul.

THESE beautiful insects possess charms both for laughing infancy and sober age; the earliest instruction a child receives in Natural History is a delightful luring lesson,— it catches a butterfly !—and this characteristic exploit is performed almost as soon as it is out of leading-strings. Buttercups and butterflies are the first objects of infantine notice and ambition, and the taste thus early acquired is seldom eradicated by the succeeding cares of life. The ancient man tottering on the verge of existence,-when his dim vision can perceive little besides,-seldom fails to observe their fitting beauties; and, as his depressed eyeballs endeavour to trace their devicus course, past joys irradiate his capacious men ory, and future solemnities chasten his retrospective pleasures. With the glimpse of youthful days,-which the passing ephemeral unveils, he also partially penetrates the deep obscurity of an approaching eternity, and beholds a fair and impressive emblem of the resurrection. The butterfly has always been universally regarded as a striking image of the final triumph of the just over their last terrific enemy-"the pale monarch of the tomb ;"-born from the grovelling insignificant caterpillar at its great change it seems to burst from its confinement like the soaring of the human spirit to a more felicitous and enduring destination. The classic Rogers, in his elegant address to the "Papillon," has embodied this idea :

"Yet wert thou once a worm, a thing that crept

"On the bare earth, then wrought a tomb and slept!
"And such is man,-soon from his cell of clay,

"To burst a seraph in the blaze of day!"*

The ancients, unaided by the blessed and glorious dawn of christian revelation, were evidently of this opinion: they placed the semblance of a butterfly at the head of their gravestones, as an image of their Psyche-the everlasting soul!-thereby doubly intimating the transientness of mortality, and that it would again appear "to flourish in immortal youth' with greater effulgence in a new and sinless region. This happy thought has, in some measure, been followed by our modern inscription of "Resurgam" on escutcheons, monuments, &c.

Nothing returns inwardly, but rather everything strives outwardly into the pure, free air;-the rosy apple blossoms from its narrow bud, and gurgling notes issue from the tiny breast of the lark ;-the germs burst open the folding-doors of the seed vessels, and break through the heavy pressure of the earth, in order to obtain light ;the grasses tear asunder their bands, and slender blades spring upward ;-even rocks become, as it were, gentle, and (though unmoved by Orpheus,) allow small mosses to peep out from their sides, as a sign that they will not remain impenetrably closed for ever-little insects burst their narrow cells, and creeping out slowly and half dormant, unfold and shake their tender wings, and gaining strength, sport in the sunbeams, and fly off to untried delights ;-and as these last, and butterflies come forth from their chrysalids in all their gaiety and splendour,-even so, on the bright but awful morning of the final consummation of all things, shall the christian's every humble and suppressed aspiration or hope free itself, and boldly launch into the open and vast flowing sea of Eternal Spring! The body, which was feeble, sensual, and gross, shall be then refined from its earthly nature, and assuming the "robe of righteousness," the dress of immortality,-be clothed with perfection. The mind, which, at best, was here so limited in its faculties, and confined in its powers-subject to degrading passions and

*Vide also Kirby and Spence, Introduction to Entomology, vol. 1,

† Addison's Cato.

Carové.

p. 78.