lished a kingdom which continued eighty-eight years, when Saladin, the Sultan of Egypt, besieged and sacked the city, and destroyed all the Christian churches, except the Holy Sepulchre, which was spared for a large ransom. The Turks took the city from the Saracens, in 1217, but in 1242, it was surrendered again to the Christians. It was retaken by the Turks in 1291, and still remains in their possession.

CHAPTER II.-JERUSALEM AS IT IS.

ALTHOUGH Jerusalem has at times been a very populous city, it is estimated at present to contain but twenty or thirty thousand inhabitants, and these are a mixture of Turks, Arabs, Christians, and Jews. "The Mohammedans," says a recent writer, "number about thirteen thousand; they reside principally in the neighborhood of the Mosque of Omar. Of the Christian sects the Armenians are the richest, and the Greeks the most numerous; they inhabit the western quarter in the vicinity of their respective convents. The Jews are calculated at fifteen hundred, about one-fifth of that number only being males; they dwell at the foot of Mount Zion, and in the lowest parts of the city. They are generally very poor, oppressed in every way, and treated with the greatest contempt; yet, their numbers do not decrease; the old come to die in the city of their fathers, and the young are content to exist on the little trade they manage to do, in the hope of seeing that city again

their own.

During the principal feasts, from Christmas to Easter, the city is fuller than at any other time, especially at Easter; it is then crowded, and exhibits a singular mixture of persons, dresses, and tongues; Christians, Mohammedans, and Jews, from all parts, assembled for one purpose, to adore the same beneficent Deity, and performing within a few yards of each other, the various rites and oblations prescribed by their dif ferent forms of worship. During the rest of the year, except at the hours of prayer, or of the bath, the streets are nearly deserted. A few soldiers lounging about the gates, or peasants bringing the produce of their gardens for sale, alone are seen. At sunset the gates are closed, and the stillness of death reigns."

At a distance Jerusalem appears to be a large, well-fortified city; but within, it presents an extraordinary scene of ruin and wretchedness. It is surrounded by embattled walls, having towers at intervals, and six gates. The walls are built of a reddish stone, about fifty feet in height. There is no ditch

around them except the natural valleys. The eastern wall is the shortest; it runs along the brow of Mount Moriah, and beneath it is the deep valley of Jehoshaphat. Through this valley flows the brook Kidron; and here also from the earliest ages has been the burial place of the Jews. The southern wall is irregular, and crosses the summit of Mount Zion, at whose base is the valley of the Son of Hinnom. The western and northern walls are more modern in their appearance, a large portion of them having been erected, and the whole repaired by Solyman the Maguificent, in the sixteenth century.

Jerusalem has no public squares, and the streets are narrow, some of them steep, and generally unpaved and dirty. It has several large convents, which are the principal support of the city. It has eleven Mosques, or Mohammedan churches, and five public baths. The Mosque of Omar, which occupies nearly the site of Solomon's temple, is a very splendid edifice, and said to be the finest piece of Saracenic architecture in the world. The houses are heavy square structures, two or three stories in height, and generally of stone. The Turks have some large houses, but built without taste or ornament. The greatest comfort or luxury about them is said to be their flat roofs, which afford fine promenades in good weather. Along one of the streets, on each side, rise piles of ruins, in promiscuous heaps, twenty or thirty feet in height, having the of the remains of some great fire, of which there appearance is no tradition remaining.

There are other localities and relics in Jerusalem, which it would be interesting to mention, and which may, perhaps, be given in another chapter; but the present sketch seems to be sufficiently extended. The following descriptive lines are

from Tasso.

The city, lakes and living springs contains,
And cisterns to receive the falling rains;
But bare of herbage is the country round,

Nor springs, nor streams refresh the barren ground,
No tender flower exhalts its cheerful head;
No stately trees at noon their shelter spread;
Where morning gilds the city's eastern side,
The sacred Jordan pours its gentle tide.
Extended lie against the setting day,
The sandy borders of the midland sea;
Samaria to the north, and Bethel's wood,
Where to the golden calf the altar stood;
And on the rainy south the hallowed earth
Of Bethlehem, where the Lord received his birth.

THE GLOW OF YOUTH.

BY W. THOMPSON BACON.

O, WHERE has it gone, all that glow of the heart,
We entered on life with, and challenged it first?
When the heart dared despise all earth's trappings and art,
And felt itself rich in the virtues it nurs'd?

We all can remember the heart of the child,

How it leapt, and the earth smiled, and laugh'd too the sky; And we never went forth but a happiness wild

Seemed poured through the breast from the ear and the eye

How the voice of the wind rang that kissed each sweet tree,
How the sun blazed at morn, how he glow'd with the night!
How each fountain leapt forth from its cave shouting free,
How each living thing shouted its burst of delight!

And when boyhood was over, and youth hurried on,
And the earth had a truer yet still brighter sheen,
How the soul woke, and O, how it gazed on the sun,
That then flung its first light and life o'er the scene!

How the mind shot away in its wild dreams of fame,

How the heart leapt and flamed with its first thoughts of love How we thrilled with a happiness words may not name, How the earth seem'd transform'd all to beauty above!

And how dared we then start away in the chase

Of bubbles that danced wild on life's rushing wave;

How little we cared for the rocks in the race,

How little we deem'd we but rush'd on the grave!

We sped on-we caught each wild sound-and we seem'd
More sure of our bliss as each sun hurried by,

And the heart did indeed catch life's light as it stream'd,
And the loud ringing music of earth and of sky!

O, where is the glow now, that burn'd in us then,
Where the life and the light both within and around?
Where the glory that then lay on peak and on plain,
The flowers scattered too o'er the sunnir ground?

Is the glow of life dead?-shall it ne'er wake again?
Is its joy all departed, and comes it not here?
Nay, we cannot thus deem man is left to complain,
And we still must believe there's a sunnier sphere.

When the clog that now chains us shall drop from the mind,
And the soul launches off on its far, glorious bourne,

Then life's glow shall come back, and life's thoughts like the wind,
And its track blaze again like the burst of the morn!

SKETCHES OF THE STAR-LAND.

FROM THE DIARY OF A CLAIREVOYANTE.

NUMBER TWO.

AND not quite yet star-sketches, either, though for the sake of unity I may call them so. And now we return to the young man whose lord is Wealth. He went on to say that he had most of his knowledge from a young gentleman who had returned homesick and almost starved from the abode of WISDOM, to dwell where he could have better fare; and this young person he promised to introduce to me, with the assurance that his story would be enough to cure me. He said, further, that his honor had seen and fancied me; and if I understood music and dancing, drawing, paper-cutting and fashionable languages, he would like to employ me to superintend the education of his daughters. "To tell you the truth," continued he, "we've been watching you through a telescope, and his lordship says he must have you at some rate-but this entre nous. Terms will not be considered: you may have what you will-though his honor will try to get you cheap at first, knowing you hail from the land of Poverty, and he is first-rate for a bargain. My advice is, set yourself up pretty well and stick to it, and before many months your riches will not need the counting, nor admit of it, or I'm no prophet. I am somewhat interested in this matter myself," he added, bowing with an air of gallantry; for, owing to some cause or other, there is hardly a decent looking woman among us. I am told that they say over in the temple yonder, that it is owing to luxury and dissipation; but, of course, it makes no difference what fools or madmen say. I must except her ladyship from the above charge of ugliness. She was handsome as a picture when I first imported her from the kingdom of Poverty, but now, poor woman! she's just on the borders of the grave, and-" He tipped a wink, which was meant to be very expressive. "Remember that books

and thinking are all out of the question. They dim the eyes by keeping people awake nights; they spoil the complexion, wrinkle the brow, and not unfrequently give a stoop to the figure-which, I see, you have slightly acquired now; but you will soon correct it. You are faint and pale," he added, with