centre of this humble dwelling stood the stem of an oak, which seemed to form the chief support of the building, and round this were hung several fishing nets in different stages of progress, with the needles dangling to them. Skeins and balls of packthread were suspended still higher; and a pruning hook leaned against this rustic pillar, and seemed to have been employed in removing the work from one place to another, and taking down the twine to replenish the exhausted needles.

In one corner of the room stood a table, with the cold remains of their slender, but almost untasted meal. Two little children, who could scarcely reach to help themselves, one with a large knife in its hand, and the other with a crust of black bread, were dragging about the provisions, while a thin hungry looking dog, with his head laid sideways on et the table, was licking the unsavoury platter. No one was attending to this scrambling group: the elder members of the family were all assembled round a tattered bed, on which lay a venerable looking old man. His sight

!

was gone; and every feature was strongly marked with the deep ridge and furrow of age; yet there was something in his appearance that excited admiration rather than disgust. The top of his head was bald; but his hoary hairs, (that crown of glory if found in the way of righteousness,) hung in waving ringlets round his face, and shaded his pallid countenance. On one side stood his daughter holding an infant in one arm, while with the other hand she strove to adjust his pillow, so that his weary head might find rest on it. His son sat below her on the corner of the bed, with his face bowed down, vainly striv ing to conceal his tears, for his sobs were audible. Two boys and three girls of different ages, stood mournfully round their be loved grandfather, looking with anguish on his dying form.

Sephora, whose sympathy was always ready for the unfortunate, was much affected at this scene. The poor old man could scarcely speak, and seemed ready to faint; he had not eaten for several days, and nature was nearly exhausted.

Sephora had nothing with her, but she thought some of the cordials she had at home might bring relief to him; or if not to him, to his distressed family, who had nothing to offer that could comfort them even with the hope of doing him good. She hesitated for a moment about leaving her mother, but one of the girls promised to stay with her, and help her to cut the osiers while she went for the medicine.

The house was more than a mile off; but Sephora was always active, and her feet never moved with greater swiftness than when on some errand of mercy. She was soon there, and ran immediately into her mother's room, where she kept her store of simples; but here she was so surprised, that she almost forgot what it was that she came for; for on opening the door, the first thing she saw was a tall black looking man, standing in the middle of the room. His dress was of a different kind from any she had ever seen before, and his physiognomy was to the full as singular as his garb: dark, overarching eye brows; a long bushy beard, and a coun

VOL. I.

H

looked for in vain. The falling tempest deformed the surface of the reflector, or the wintry torrent stirred up the turbid foundation till not a vestige of its calm beauty remained.

Sephora had often contemplated this lake, and thought that it presented but too just and too mournful a picture of her own inconstant soul, that sometimes seemed peaceful and benign as its Creator and Preserver, and sometimes was tossed with tumultuous passions, as if it had never known his image or his love.

On the top of that hill, round whose base the olives grew, and almost inaccessible from its steepness, was a cavern called the lunatic's den. It had formerly been inhabited for many years by one who professed the Essean philosophy.

The Esseans were one of the most famous sect of the Jews. They had all things in common, they all dressed alike, and were clothed entirely in white. The utmost cleanliness prevailed amongst them, and they practised almost monkish austerities. When they spoke it was always in turn, they never

swore, and lived by rule and not according to inclination. They held adversity in contempt, they believed in the immortality of the soul, and thought that after death the good lived beyond the ocean seas, in a place of pleasure, where they are never molested with rain, nor snow, nor heat, but have always a sweet and pleasant air coming out of the ocean, but that the souls of the wicked go to a very tempestuous place, always full of the lamentation of those that are to be punished.

The man who had lived in the den, had entered this society and brought a large possession to its common stock; but no one could trace where he came from, or what had been his former life. He was not at first deranged in his mind, but overwhelmed either with grief or remorse, and he seemed to seek in the strictness and outward purity of this sect, relief for a wounded mind. But -finding none, he quitted society, and hid himself in this den, living only on the spon

taneous fruits of the earth, and never laying