grew wild plants, shrubs, and flowers, according to their will, untouched by the hand of art. From the entrance, open toward the south, the eye fell first upon the slope of meadow and vineyard along the nearer bank; then upon the sacred stream as it wound slowly away and was hidden at length by overhanging foliage, and last upon a remote prospect of hill and wood, mountain and desert, even as far as the borders of the Dead Sea, till the warm haze of those regions shut in the scene and mingled the heavens and the earth together. I was not unwilling to enter where there was held out so rich a promise of rest and seclusion. Couches of many inviting forms standing around tempted to repose, of which, to say the truth, notwithstanding the sleep of a long night, I still had need. Here then I passed the morning and midday hours, now gazing forth upon the new scenes before me, and wondering what my course should be, and now watching the labors of the distant husbandman as he gathered in the last returns of the harvest; sometimes buried in musings which, beginning in somewhat bright as morning, ended as is their wont in sleep; sometimes satisfying at once both hunger and thirst with the grapes which ministering hands had heaped upon the table; and sometimes in writing to thee, my mother, to thee whose image

waking or asleep is ever before me, outshining all else above or below, real or unreal. No step intruded on my privacy, no sound disturbed my slumbers or my musings, save that of the bee as he flew from flower to fruit, or from fruit to flower, or of insects and birds, as half asleep they sent forth now and then a drowsy note, showing that they as well as I were tasting the joys of a perfect repose. or lay, until the sun sinking behind the hills, and the growing coolness of the air, warned me of the hour of the evening repast; for here as with us the principal meal is at the close of day, when the heat hath subsided and its labor is done.

Thus I either sat

Many days like this, only varied with such changes as you, my mother, will readily imagine, now passed away. Instructed by Judith, I made myself familiar with Beth-Harem and the surrounding regions, visiting with her, or alone, all such objects and places as were worthy to be seen, either for their present interest and beauty, or for their connexion with the early history of our people. In these brief journeyings I saw and discoursed with many of the inhabitants of these parts of Judea, in every condition of life. Among all I discovered a temper of dissatisfaction, and undefined desires and expectations of somewhat soon to be unfolded of ad

vantage and glory to the land.

Some great one shall fulfil in his

is to arise, they are sure, who person and his deeds, and the power of his dominion, all that seems to them foretold by their prophets. They have been much stirred by the sudden appearance of this John of Hebron on the banks and in the wildernesses of Jordan; but they do not see in him the signs of that power whose approach they are expecting, though they hold him to be one sent of God. We all desire to hear and know more of him. But, as we learn, he is now in upper Galilee.

Onias has been absent many days, insomuch that Judith wonders greatly thereat.

Name me

No more, my mother, at present. with affection to our neighbors and friends, and especially to Hirpinus and Lucretius, who are returned, as I have heard, suddenly to Rome. Thou shalt soon hear again. Farewell.

VIII.

I KEEP my promise, my mother, and again present myself with wishes of health and peace.

Now when Onias had been absent, as I have said, many days, to the great concern of Judith,

which in these times is not strange, for so much does wickedness abound in all parts of the land, that it is not without danger that any one trusts himself in remote or unfrequented places, he at length returned in safety indeed, but as it seemed also, in no small perturbation of mind. His manner was more close and dark than even that which is usual with him, and it was a long time before, by our approaches, whether more or less direct, we could arrive at the causes of his discomposure. Judith, by her playfulness at some seasons, and her deep earnestness at others, seldom fails to reach her father's inward ear; and though he at times turns away even from her, yet is it done never with severity, or as if it were possible for any word from Although her questions now

her to offend him.

seemed to grate with harshness on his spirit,

yet he refused not to answer them.

"We have missed you greatly, father, these many days. But since you have been in kings' palaces we look to you to make amends for your long absence, by the agreeable things you have to tell us. Saw you the fair daughter of Arabia? They say she is unhappy."

"Who say so?" asked Onias.

"Surely," said Judith, "you have heard it many times. I speak but the common rumor." "I know not how it is," replied Onias. "It is a pity if it be so. The great should never marry, or not till their greatness is reached, and they can take their equal."

"Because one is great then," exclaimed Judith, "he must no longer be a man! Truly I think as to the women of Judea, they would rather marry a man for the reason that he hath the affections of a man, than because he has the greatness of a king or hero."

"Yet," answered Onias, "a man may find all in one, which Herod hath not. The daughter of Aretas hath a seemly beauty enough, if one, great like Herod, should have regard to the poor varnish, easily spoiled, of a fair skin beauty more than enough to satisfy him, but the wife of Antipas should show other and greater qualities.'

"Surely she hath goodness," said Judith, "so