fixed on sleeping here, among the ruins of this ancient city, for the night; but learning from these Arab youths, that their camp, which they called El Arab,' was not far off, I was delighted with the opportunity it offered of visiting it, though all our party, except my self, were hostile to this step. Fear was their principal motive of objection, and perseverance the only weapon I could oppose it with; and for a long while it was an equal match of obstinacy, on both sides. Detaining the boys as guides, I explained to them that I was a stranger, under the protection of Phanoose: they then pressingly invited us to accompany them, and as I was determined to have gone alone, rather than be diverted from my purpose, the rest of our party soon followed me. We reached the Bedouin camp about sun-set, and our reception there was every thing that hospitality could dictate. Our hands were embraced, and the salutations of peace and welcome exchanged a hundred times; but as no one claimed the exclusive privilege of entertaining us, we were taken to a large square, formed by embankments of the soil, heightened by loose bushes, and completely sheltered from the wind, where the elders of the tribe assembled to smoke their evening pipes, recount the tales of the day, and regale such guests as business or accident might bring among them from opposite quarters. A young kid was immediately killed, and dressed upon the embers of a brush-wood fire; the milk of goats and camels were laid before us in bowls, coffee was burned and pounded upon the spot,and the tobacco-purse of the venerable old sheik was replenished from his tent for our use. There was, in short, abundance for the hungry, rest for the weary, and security for the apprehensive traveller, to be found beneath the protecting shadow of their encampment, nor could the feasts of the ancient heroes, which Homer so happily describes, have boasted a more unbounded liberality in their provisions, or a more unadulterated hospitality in the rude simplicity of their preparation. Delighted with a conversation which brought me acquainted with their manners, customs, and opinions, and that too from a source so satisfactory as a large assembly of themselves, in which misrepresentations could not have passed unobserved, I was happy in prolonging our interview, and in remaining awake through the greater part of the night, engaged in mutual inquiry and reply. It would be a task of much pleasure to me to transcribe the substance of their communications; but as I propose to make the manners and customs of the Arabs, the subject of a separate article, the imperfection of a hasty sketch would be unsatisfactory here, where there is so much to describe, to comment on, to applaud, to condemn, to pity, and to admire, as in the manners of this extraordinary people. I regretted most sincerely, that the voice of duty should call me from them so soon, or I should have probably passed a month or two among them with extreme pleasure. DESERT OF EL OUADI, FEBRUARY 25.- The flocks were driven out to pasture, with the earliest gleams of morning, and as the sun rose with unusual serenity, it lighted up a picture of interesting novelty. The ground chosen for the encampment of this Bedouin tribe, was a gentle hollow of the plain, as it could scarcely deserve the appellation of a valley; and their tents, to the number of about three hundred, occupied a space of less than two miles in circumference. No other order was observed in their erection, than that of their being all open to the eastward, to receive the warm and cheering beams of the morning sun; in summer, when the heats are oppressive, their openings face the north, to enjoy the refreshing coolness of the winds from that quarter. These low and brown habitations, formed of woven goats' hair, differing in shape, size, and manner of arrangement, and rudely supported by rough boughs of trees, and cord spun from the wool of their own flocks, were barely large enough to enclose their respective families at night, and shelter the infants and infirm in the day. Among the whole number, we met with none that covered ten square feet of ground at the base, though several of them were occupied by the husband, two wives, and fifteen or sixteen children, beside a superannuated wife or mother. The smoke of the morning fires ascending in columns through a calm and unagitated air, the bleating of the lambs, which were carried in the shepherd's arms from tenderness, the skipping of the hardier kids, the shrill crowing of the cock, and the barking playfulness of the faithful dog, the departure of the boys with their respective flocks, and of the girls in groups, with pitchers to the wells, the busy occupation of the wives in kneading cakes of meal for the hearth, with the comparative dignity of their grave and bearded lords, presented altogether, so admirable a representation of the patriarchal life, that I found myself transported back, in imagination, to the days of the venerable Abraham, and stood in wonder at the preservation of usages and customs, so unaltered among his descendants, through years and ages, which have destroyed the haughtiest empires, created new successors, and swept away kingdoms, nations, and people, into obli vion ! On returning from our morning ramble through the Bedouin camp, we were invited into almost every tent we passed, and had partaken so largely of the hospitalities of these generous people, that we were literally unable to join in the meal which was prepared for us by the sheik and elders in the embanked circle where we had slept. Three other strangers had arrived among them, on their way from Syria to Egypt, and being from a friendly tribe, had met a reception like our own. As our routes lay together, therefore, when the rude but abundant feast of the morning was over, we exchanged the benedictions of peace with our kind entertainers, and our companions, journeying with the staff and sandals of the earliest days, we set forth upon our way together. Steering southerly, in order to fall into the line directly west of the ruined city at Abou-Keshabe, we had scarcely crossed that line, before the traces of the ancient canal, the unconnected vestiges of which had appeared along our track at intervals, became again distinctly visible. Its bed retaining the waters of the few showers which the winter drops upon those plains, and the soil of its channel not having been overwhelmed by the sands of the desert, it was filled with a wild and abundant verdure. Wells also were scattered through its bed, and resorted to by Bedouin women, for the supply of their flocks and camps. These united circumstances render it an attractive retreat for birds, antelopes, and hares, which we found here in considerable numbers, crossing our footsteps in all the confidence inspired by undisturbed security, until we came into the cultivated valley of El Ouadi Tomalat, where the canal appears to have entered Egypt, though cultivation has so obliterated its limits as to render all vestiges of it, beyond this union of the barren desert and the cultivated fields, imperceptible. It was a source of high gratification to me thus to have completed a journey, undertaken for the express purpose of examining the remains of a canal, whose very existence has been disputed by some, and its completion doubted by others, notwithstanding the positive testimony of the historian, already quoted, more particularly of Herodotus - with whose description of its course out of the Nile from west to east, and then turning off southerly toward the Red Sea, its breadth sufficient to admit two trirèmes abreast, and its being so circuitous as to make its length equal to a four days' voyage its remains so accurately correspond as to stamp a high character for veracity on the writings of that father of history. The question as to the position of the head of the canal, or the exact point from which it led off from the Nile, can only be discussed by a comparison of the different authorities on which it rests, and arguments founded on the bearings, distances, etc., of places mentioned in them; a task which has been so satisfactorily performed by the able pen of Rennell, as to leave nothing to be added to it. The canal of Trajan, as described by Ptolemy to lead through the Egyptian Babylon, or Fostat, may, as D'Anville and Rennell suppose, be recognised in that which, after watering the city of Cairo, discharges itself into the Birket-êl-Hadji, or lake of the Pilgrims, and that of Amrou in the portion of a bed which runs to the northward of Heliopolis; but since the cultivation of the soil here, has obliterated all traces of the work of Necos which Darius continued, as far at least as to the edge of the desert, one can only say that the vicinity of its last vestiges, and their inclining line of direction to Bubastis, give every reason to believe that Herodotus and Diodorus were extremely accurate, the one in making the water to enter the canal from the Nile near Bubastis, the other from the Pelusian branch of that great stream. WRITTEN AT MIDNIGHT. THE mind, by worldly wants and common cares But solemn Midnight all her force inspires, Cloaked in a cloud by day, becomes a torch by night! A. T. R, HERS is a spirit cheerful as a bird's, Content to live within a narrow cage, With trills of music, charming Youth and Age: In breathless ecstacy repressed by fear, Lest some rude footstep falling quickly near, No more the melody should float along. Oh, with such witching music for my own So fair a minstrel with so sweet a tone How, as on undulating waves of sound, My moments, touched by merry thoughts, would glide! By Love's bright bars, and warble at my side! HERMION. New-York, February, 1838. THE LIFE AND OPINIONS OF JOB DOOLITTLE. BY THE AUTHOR OF 'YANKEE NOTIONS.' JOB DOOLITTLE was a remarkable man- a very remarkable man; one of the most remarkable men of this remarkable age. He was born in the town of Dronesborough, he was brought up in the town of Dronesborough, and he died in the town of Dronesborough; in fact, he never was out of the town of Dronesborough; a circumstance sufficient of itself to mark him as an extraordinary individual; for what could induce a person, in these spiritstirring and body-stirring times, to pass fifty-seven years within a small country village, without once setting his foot out of it? What but genius -wonderful genius! The ancestors of Job Doolittle came from Little Pokesworth, near Piddletown, in Shropshire. They came very late to America, and the cause of their emigration cannot be ascertained. Some extraordinary circumstance must have been connected with it, as the family were never given to making long journeys, without necessity. The oldest of the family, at the time of the emigration, was Creeper Doolittle, for some time proprietor of the Slow Coach,' which ran between Little Pokesworth and Stopford. He was related, by the mother's side, to Major Dawdle, well known for his brilliant campaign at Mahon. Many anecdotes of others of his relatives may be found in 'Memoirs of the late Mr. Tardy.' The great grandfather of Job, by the mother's side, was the celebrated Simon Snorewell, who used to earn half a dollar a day by sleeping. Job's great uncle was Mr. Lawrence Doolittle, known in Dronesborough as Blind Lawrence.' He lost his sight by the rain beating upon his face through a leaky roof, while he lay in bed. Another uncle of Job, Mr. Driblett Doolittle, became famous in his native town, by performing, on one occasion, a walk without stopping, from Penny Ferry to Sleepy Hill, a distance of a mile and a half; being a feat, which had not been equalled by any one of the family, time out of mind. He married his wife after a courtship of twenty-nine years. Her name was Snail. She was the daughter of Perriwinkle Snail, Esq., a member of the Long Parliament. Job Doolittle, the subject of this memoir, was the son of Waitstill Doolittle and Patience Slugg. His mother was the daughter of old Tranquillity Slugg, of Lubberton. He was born at the old family mansion, in Dumpy Lane, near Standfast Corner. Job was the only child of his parents, and was born thirteen years after their marriage. His birth happened on the twenty-first day of June, being the longest day in the year. Whether this circumstance had any influence upon the formation of his character, it would perhaps be useless to inquire; bit the most trivial particulars in the life of a great man are interesting. Why he came to be christened Job, is a very curious question. Some authorities say, that it was on account of its shortness, s old Waitstill Doolittle had a mortal aversion to all such superfluous expenditure of breath as is required for the pronunciation of long names. Some say one of his ancestors was called Job. Some say his father took the first name that came to hand; and others agan give still more ingenious reasons. But there is so much contradictory evidence in the case, that nothing appears clearly demonstratel, except the fact that he was named Job. After all, it might have been owing to his patience in not complaining at being suffered to go for so great a length of time without a name; for it seems old Watstill Doolittle was not able to provide his son with one, until he hid attained his sixth year. Young Job was put to school at ten years of age, and made such a proficiency in his infantile studies, that he learned his alphabet in less than three years. None of the Doolit le family had ever before been known to get through it in less than five. It is interesting also to know, that he was taught by an old schoolmistress named Patience Still. The extraordinary genius of Job Doolittle displayed itself very early in his career. I need not say that his main characteristics were great forethought and circumspection, in every act of his life. He was never known to be guilty of a single rash or hasty action; and it was prophetically pronounced by his great uncle, old Creeper Doolittle, the toll-keeper at Sluggett's Bridge, that Job would be an honor to the family. This sagacious prediction was soon verified. Job was challenged by his playmates one day to a game of hop-scotch, and inquired, with great earnestness, if it was a game that could be played standing still. Being informed that it could not, he instantly refused to engage in it. Chucking marbles was a game that he was fond of; and he would have continued to play it, but for the extraordinary labor of picking up the marbles again after chucking them. Bat-and-ball he abhorred, as a most prodigal expenditure of human strength and exertion. Hide-and-seek he indulged in a good deal; but he was so much fonder of hiding than seeking, that he seldom found boy willing to take a share in the play. He was still more fond of Old Buzzard; but he particularly excelled in a game called Pee-wit, which consists in trying who can stand still the longest, From these indications, it is easy to perceive that our hero was a person of great deliberation in all his movements, and that he had a most philosophical indifference for those objects and pursuits which dissipate the power and energies of ardent youth by over-exertion, |