vation and poverty; but William was not- would have cared little had his difficulties as his story thus far has shown-gifted with affected his own comfort only; but they fell any great store of worldly prudence. There likewise on those dearest to him, and anxiety were numerous bubbles afloat in that day, for their sakes preying on his affectionate and marvellous contrivances for making-or, rather timid spirit; the probable shame of an more certainly, marring-fortunes in an in- execution in his house, and the nervous horror credibly short space of time; and he was he felt at the idea of being consigned to a seized with the prevailing mania, entered prison, had brought on his present illness, into a wild speculation, and lost nearly all and haunted his thoughts as he lay there in the wealth that had been so opportunely sent. solitude after many restless nights of agonized Once more the gaunt spectre, poverty, stood and perplexed reflection, listening to the in the path of the sleeper, at a time, too, church-bells ringing for Sunday service, at when the energy and spirit of youth had fled; which a stranger was to fill his place. From and this time it forced the separation which the days of Whittington to the present, the nothing had been able to effect before. Wil- imagination has frequently given a language liam P resolved to return to Prussia, and to those airy voices; and the poor pastor, as reenter the service of Frederick; whilst his he lay overpowered and exhausted by long wife and their only daughter established a hours of painful and fruitless meditation, feli school for young ladies, with the money still the nightmare, like a load of care which op remaining from their recent wealth. And pressed him, pass off as he listened, and a thus years rolled by. The patient, industri- childlike faith in the goodness of Providence ous mother succeeded in retrieving some por- once more dawning on his mind. We do not tion of their losses; the rash, eager, but pretend to interpret what they whispered, generous husband, won laurels and wounds but it is certain that, soothed by the chimes, in still quicker succession. The daughter he yielded to a gentle and profound slumber, narried, and became ultimately the grand-in which his wife found him shortly aftermother of the narrator of the story; and, finally, General William P- returned, a few limbs minus, and very gray, but still fondly beloved, to his home, and died, full of years and honors, in the arms of his awakened sleeper. wards. Care was at first taken not to break this desired repose; but as noon, evening, night, nay, a second day passed, and still it continued, his family became alarmed, and tried to rouse him. In vain! The awful slumber was as inexorable as that of death itself. I bound his senses in an iron forgetfulness. He could not be awakened by sound or touch. Sun after sun rose and set, and still the deep sleep continued. Meantime the evils he had dreaded gathered round his family. His physical condition preserved his personal freedom; but an execution was put in his house, and his wife and daughters were exposed to the direst evils of poverty. The rumor, however, of his trance-like slumber was noised abroad, and reached the lordly dwelling of a nobleman who resided near the spot, though he was not one of the clergyman's parishioners. Being much given to the study of physical science, he visited the parsonage to request permission to see the sleeper, and thus learned the varied sorrow that had fallen on its gentle inmates. With equal delicacy and generosity he proffered as a loan the means of paying the harsh creditors, assuring the poor wife that if her husband should ever wake, he would give him the means of repaying the pecuniary obligation. The offer was thankfully accepted, and the debt discharged. For the following two days, Lord E- was a regular visitor at the parsonage. Let us next introduce our reader to a small chamber in a country parsonage, a little later in the same century. The room presented a perfect picture of neatness, quiet, and repose. It was very plainly furnished, but manifested a certain elegance and refinement in the arrangement of the few simple ornaments on the chimney-piece, the flowers and books, and the old china cup of cooling drink that stood on a small round table by the open window, through which the warm air of summer stole softly, laden with perfume from the mignonette and stocks that flourished in the little garden beneath it. The sun's rays, broken by the fresh green leaves of a large walnuttree, cast a clear, pleasant light through the snowy dimity-curtains of the bed on the face of an invalid who lay there, gazing with the listlessness of weakness, on the glimpse of blue sky visible from the open caseinent. It was a countenance that sunlight might be imagined to love, so good and gentle was it. Nor did its expression belie the heart within. A holy, charitable, unselfish man was that village pastor; but with the resemblance he bore and it was a strong one-to Goldsmith's portrait of his brother, there mingled much of the thoughtlessness and improvidence Sunday morning again dawned once more of the poet himself; and the consequence of the sun-light fell on the sleeper's pillow, and his boundless charities, and of his ignorance the bells called men to pray. Beside the of money-inatters, had led him into embarrass-couch were seated the miserable wife and her ments, from which he saw no escape. Ile noble friend. The faint, regular breathings of the trance-chained man deepened, and to "She was perfectly conscious of all that her anxious ear the difference was perceptible, passed around her; she distinctly heard her though Lord E shook his head, as she friends speaking and lamenting her death; told him of it. She bent eagerly over the she felt them clothe her in the garments of pillow there was a slight flutter of the eye- the grave, and place her in the coffin. This fids; she held her breath, and clasped her knowledge produced a mental anxiety she hands in an agony of expectation and dawning could not describe. She tried to speak or hope. The hand, so long motionless, stirred; cry, but vainly; she had no power of utterthe eyes opened she could not speak for over-ance; it was equally impossible for her to powering joy. The sleeper raised his head, slightly smiled on her, and observed; "I thought I had slept longer-the bell has not yet ceased ringing! He was unconscious that a whole week had elapsed since its tones had soothed him to rest. The wife fainted, and was conveyed from the chamber. The doctor was summoned; he found his patient weak, but not otherwise ill. A still more extraordinary mental cure had been effected by the genius of Sleep: he had totally forgotten his threatened difficulties, and from that hour recovered rapidly. Lord E conferred a living of some value on him; and when he was strong enough to bear the disclosure, his wife informed him of the loan so nobly bestowed on them, and the suffering from which he had been so marvellously preserved. The lesson was not lost. The new rector henceforward strove to unite prudence and generosity; and a career of worldly prosperity, as well as the far greater blessing of an implicit and cheerful faith in Providence, attended the renewed life of the sleeper awakened. In both these instances, the sleep or trance was dreamless and unconscious. But there is one remarkable case on record, in which the body only of the sleeper was subject to this death-like thraldom of slumber, the mind remaining awake; and the account given by the individual who endured this interval of life in death, is very singular and interesting. She was an attendant on a German princess; and, after being confined to her bed for a great length of time, with a nervous disorder, to all appearance died. She was laid in a coffin, and the day fixed for her interment arrived. In accordance with the custom of the place, funeral songs and hymns were sung outside the door of the chamber in which the fair corpse lay. Within they were preparing to nail on the lid of the coffin, when a slight moisture was observed on the brow of the dead. The supposed corpse was of course immediately removed to a different couch, and every means used to restore suspended vitality. She recovered, and gave the following singular account of her sensations: In an old magazine, dating 1798; and also in Dr. Crichton's Essays. raise her hand or open her eyes, as she vainly endeavored to do. She felt as if she were imprisoned in a dead body. But when she heard them talk of nailing the lid on her, and the mournful music of the funeral-hymns reached her ear, the anguish of her mind attained its height, and agony mastering that awful spell of unnatural slumber, produced the moisture on her brow, which saved her from being entombed alive." One more little anecdote of a somewhat similar kind, which was related to us on the authority of a Hastings fisherman, and we will close our paper. It occurred during the cholera. The people of England have an especial horror of this terrible scourge, and nothing will induce them to believe that the infection is in the air, and not in the person affected by the complaint; consequently it was difficult, in some places, to persuade them to perform the last offices for the dead, and they hurried the interment of the victims of the pestilence with unseemly precipitation. A poor seafaring-man, who had been long absent from his native land, returning home at the time it was raging, found that his wife had been dead about three days, and that her coffin had been placed in a room with those of others, who, lodging in the same dwelling, had also perished of the disease. Greatly afflicted, the sailor insisted on seeing his dead wife. The neighbors would have dissuaded him, but his affection and grief disdained all fear, and he rushed into the chamber of death. There, forcing open the lid of the coffin, and bending over the beloved corpse, the rude mariner shed tears, which fell fast upon the pallid face, when suddenly a sound, something like a sigh, was emitted from the white lips, and the next instant the exhausted and deathlike sleeper opened her eyes, and gazed up in his face! The joy of the poor fellow may be imagined. We might multiply instances of this phenomenon, but as they would probably be familiar to the reader, or have at least been told before, we shall but add a wish that the old adage, "Too much of a good thing," may not be found a practical truth with regard to his sleep; and wish To all and each a fair good-night, And pleasing dreams and slumbers light. From Sharpe's Magazine. THE GARDEN OF EDEN. FROM A TRAVELLER'S NOTE BOOK. I HAD been travelling all the weary night, aching on my saddle, and longing for repose. It was an October morning, crisped with frost, when I had to ford the Euphrates river, at that time about girth deep. I was strongly imbued with the impression that I was now entering upon the site of the reputed Garden of Eden; the traditionary lore of the Armenians now occupying the district was to this effect; they will have it that Adam was an Armenian, and that he was of their own color, though from whence the black race proceeded they never could make out. The stream was diverted into different channels, from one of which I drank, and would imagine it to be the spot where Father Adam had similarly refreshed himself, nearly six thousand years ago, though he had not the advantage of my drinking-cup. What a wild and desolate aspect did this reputed Eden present to me! the low and swampy soil teeming with rushes. Desolation had swept it with her blasts; the cormorant and the bittern had here their hiding-place, but that sterner savage, man, was the most feared of any animal. Our little caravan was halted, the fire-arms were looked to, our chief, marshalling us in battle array, expecting every moment a surprise. Some horsemen were seen in the distance. At rapid rate they came down upon us; but, instead of Koords, they were three Armenian bishops, with their attendants, from the little monastery of "Uch Kilesea," which was perched on a rock at the margin of the stream. The church is said to be the most ancient in Christendom, being built more than twelve hundred years ago. The whole is a remarkablelooking fabric, having the appearance of three churches, which its name implies. These worthies of the Armenian Church, instead of sporting cowl and cossack, sported sword and pistol. Seeing travellers in the distance, their hospitality led them to come out to escort us to the refectory, and to warn us of those hidden dangers with which the country teemed. The monastery itself had been formerly converted into a fortress to protect them against the Koords; such was the excess of brigandage even in Eden! The worthy fathers had been often bearded by these Koords in their own entrenchments, and had withstood many a siege of chapel and battery. The grim outline of the country bespoke sterility and waste in its harshest features; the low boggy soil which we were traversing was sandy, sedgy, and well stocked with wild boar; it did not suit our day's travel to accept the worthy monks' hospitality, so, with much cordial exchange of greetings, and thanks on our part, they galloped off to a ravine in search of Koords. The bridle-rein seemed quite as familiar to them as the crosier, the high-peaked saddle as the pulpit cushion; they seemed to enjoy the sport of Koord-hunting, and, like old accustomed sportsmen, could almost scent their tracks. Of all my Asiatic travel, which has occupied me so many thousands of hours, I scarcely recollect any place so utterly desolate and wasted as I was now going over, though great interest was attached to it as being reputed Bible ground. Mount Ararat was visible in the distance, towering in the sky with majestic grandeur, and a brilliant sun lit up the mass of snow on its summit, the clouds rolling visibly at the base. It was a glorious sight, and Little Ararat at the side, in mimic pomp, served as a sort of foil to the huge dimensions of one of nature's loftiest summits. An immense plain intervened, on which Noah's descendants might have located, and I could imagine creation, preservation, and all those glorious events to which Scripture testifies to have taken place there. There is a holy awe inspired on going over the soil which we imagine God to have personally visited; to see the mountain where he had evidently sheltered his chosen Noah from the raging of the mighty floods, and to be on the spot where was first seen his promised token, that he would no more drown the earth in her own waters, and where he had provided a spacious plain for his people to multiply, and from thence accomplish his great purposes of creation. We are obliged to draw largely upon the imagination to "feather the wings of time" in Asiatic travel, and I was full of dreamy speculations respecting the earthly abode of our first parents until we arrived at the village of Diaden, which was occupied with Russian troops, the invasion of Turkey by the latter power being then in full force. I went to the citadel to pay my respects to the commandant (Prince Tehtchiwisouff), who was very gracious to the weary traveller. He commented immediately on the interest of my morning's ride, by saying, "Vous avez passé par l véritable Paradis." I bowed my assent to his excellency, hoped it was so, felt rather incred ulous, and having obtained permission to continue my journey (the country being then subject to Russian rule), I proceeded to a wretched mud-hovel, the best accommodation which we could procure, to cater amongst the villagers for food, as well as for Paradisiacal information. The Turkish villages are bur rowed under ground, and small hillocks appear here and there, with a central hole for the ingress of air and the issue of smoke. To my great consternation and surprise, I once rode over a dwelling in this way, without being aware of it until my horse's feet became | To show the wide latitude entertained by plunged amongst the rafters (see Three Years some writers, Josephus supposed that the in Persia, vol. I.); and in this instance, we Ganges and the Nile were two of the rivers were sadly inconvenienced by the dust, since mentioned by Moses. Other commentators the roof of the house where we were accommo- have looked for it in Arabia, Syria, Chaldea, dated was the principal thoroughfare of the Palestine, and Armenia, near the cities of village. The rude villagers, ignorant as they Damascus and Tripoli; and some have been so were, were yet agreed on the point as to the absurd as to suppose that it was on the spo locality of Eden, that the ground which I had now occupied by the Caspian Lake. come over was the site of the garden of our first parents; it was beyond all controversy with them, and I query if they had ever heard of any other. They are a remarkably ignorant race, having never learned letters; but few can read beyond the priests, for whom they have great veneration; their government is ecclesiastical, the chief patriarch residing at Etch Meizen on the other side the mountain. They spoke of the "Frat," or, as some call it, the "Hu Phrah," that ancient river Euphrates. This and Ararat are two undisputed points with all geographers, however much they may otherwise differ. There are many places in the world which bear the name of Eden; there is one near Damascus, another near Thessaly in Chaldea, and again near Tripoli in Syria; and Aden, on the coast of Yemen, is construed into Eden; but this is straining a construction too far to meet any reasonable credence. 66 Opposed to all those chimerical absurdities, I will now state what appears to me the most reasonable conclusion as to the site of the Garden of Eden, and it agrees with the locality which I have traversed. A very eminent writer says: Eden is as evidently a real country as Ararat, where the ark rested, and I had crossed it at different places; this Shinaar, where the sons of Noah removed river has its principal sources in the moun-after the flood. We find it mentioned in tains of Armenia, one of which is about Scripture as often as the other two, and there twelve miles from Erzroume, the other is near is the more reason to believe it, because the Byazid; these two streams, pursuing a west- scenes of these three remarkable events are erly direction, are near Mount Taurus turned laid in the neighborhood of one another in the into a south-east course by a range of moun- Mosaical history; but the Jews, from their tains in that neighborhood; it is then joined distractions, losing all remembrance of these by the Tigris, and these, when united, form localities, hence the Christian inquirers have one of the noblest rivers in the East, which lost their way for want of guides." Calmet, falls into the gulf of Persia, fifty miles south-and some other ingenious writers, were of the east of Bussorah, the whole course being about 1,600 miles. The Araxes, said to be the Gihon of Moses, takes its rise in a mountain called Abbas; it runs south-east across Armenia and a part of Persia, in a serpentine course of upwards of 500 miles, ultimately discharging itself into the Caspian Lake. This is a very rapid stream, and when swollen with the winter snows, nothing can withstand its violence. The Tigris is said to be the Hiddekel of Moses, and the other branch of the Euphrates to be the Pison of Moses; the latter flows into the Persian Gulf. Having thus ascertained, from the best authorities which I can find, what are the four rivers mentioned by Moses, I will now briefly state what these authorities say as to the locality of the Garden of Eden. Several of the fathers believed that there never was a local Paradise, and that all which the Scriptures say of it must be taken in an allegorical sense; and so preposterous have been the speculations respecting it, that some have planted it in the third heaven, within the orb of the moon, and under the equator. I will not recapitulate the absurdities, or rather the ribaldry of the Mahommedan superstitions on the subject; they merely testify to the concurrent belief that there was a terrestrial Paradise somewhere on the earth. same opinion, viz., that the terrestrial Paradise was in Armenia, near Mount Ararat, where Noah's ark was left. They imagined that they there discovered the sources of the four rivers which watered the garden of Eden. I can only say, that, with the exception of the Euphrates, they had dried up, or had disap peared, when I went over the ground, since I was many days near and under Ararat; the mountain was so huge, that, after travelling a whole day from it, it scarcely seemed to lose its dimensions. Of this mountain, I learn from the same authority, "The situation of Ararat is very convenient for the journey of the sons of Noah from thence to Shinaar, the distance not being very great and the descent easy. We discover plainly, through the Mosaic history, a neighborhood between the land of Eden, where man was created; that of Ararat, where the remains of mankind were saved; and that of Shinaar where they fixed the centre of their habitation." I am the more confirmed in my opinion as to this locality of the Garden of Eden the farther I extend my researches, and, when I beheld this towering pillar, Ararat, standing on the frontiers of three mighty empires, Russia, Turkey, and Persia this "mountain of the deluge," 16,000 feet high—it was a most imposing monument of nature. Tradition sublimes it, and Bible associations give it a grandeur scarcely to be exceeded by any in the world; at the north, south, and east, it stands completely alone; in the west it is connected with the Adraigag chain, which stretches down to the Araxes. The village of Argicire, which once stood in a ravine of Ararat, 2,500 feet high, was according to tradition the oldest village in the world; here the vine was first planted by Noah, but it no longer exists. On the 20th June, 1840, after a hot and sultry day, at about dusk, the ground clave asunder, yielding up smoke and steam, the earth heaved, the mountains were rent, and hurling down immense masses of rock upon the village, the whole was buried! and, of nearly a thousand inhabitants, mostly Armenians, only about a hundred and forty escaped, in consequence of their absence. The next day Noah's mountain was as silent as the morning after the deluge; it may be truly said that Ararat is not dead, but sleepeth.' Mr. Mylne says, that" in all ages learned men have labored to find out the situation of Paradise, which seems to be but a vague and uncertain inquiry; for the Mosaic description of it will not suit any place on the present globe. He mentions two rivers in its vicinity Pison and Gihon, of which no present traces can be found; the other two still remain, Hiddekel, supposed to be the Tigris, and the Euphrates, whose streams unite together at a considerable distance above the Persian Gulf, in some part of which it is probable the happy garden lay; but since the formation of the earth it has undergone great changes from earthquakes, inundations, and many other causes. Where did Moses write his history, becomes a question. Some say that it was at Nineveh; others in the wilderness of Sinai; and, again, that it was written in Arabia Petrea, in some place nearly adjoining the river Pison, which bounds Havilah, and discharges itself in the Persian Gulf, this river being the nearest to him of the four which he nained in the book of Genesis. The etymology of the word from Poscha," to spread itself, corresponds to its situation, the waters of which are sometimes so high and violent that no sufficient defence can be formed against their irruption. Havilah was at the eastern extremity of this part of Arabia; the land abounded with gold, bdellium, the onyx, &c. Writers have differed respecting the meaning of the term bdellum or bedolach, some supposing it to have been pearls, and others that it was gum. Moses takes his wife, Zipporah, from this eountry, and here his first son was born, Gershom, and here he takes leave of Jethro, his father-in-law, to visit his brethren in Egypt. It has been argued that Moses, by saying that the garden was planted "eastward in Eden," that it was designed to mark the particular spot where it was situated, which must have been at one of the turnings of the river, which goes from east to west, and which here branches into two streams, the Pison and the Euphrates; and, subsequently passing out of Eden, are divided into four heads. This hypothesis, which was first started by Calvin, is followed by many other writers. After all these speculations on the subject, the Musaio description does not agree with the present state of things, for there is no common stream of which the four rivers are properly branches. Some say that Moses had a very imperfect knowledge of the world of which he wrote. How can this apply to the inspired Word? Others speculate on the changes which the flood had produced. Scarcely any two authorities do I find to agree, and the more I grope my way to the real Eden, the more difficult and intricate does it seem to be. I will now trace a little further how these. intricacies arise. Pastellus will have it that Paradise was under the North Pole; others contend that it was not limited to any particular place, but that it included the face of the whole earth, which was then one continued scene of pleasure until altered by Adam's transgression. Both Origen and Philo treat the Scripture account of Paradiso as an allegory. Huet, Bochart, and others, place it beyond the confluence of the Tigris and the Euphrates, with both of which the Garden of Eden was watered. Pison was a branch arising out of one of them, and Gihon was another branch flowing from it on the side of Armenia. Huet thinks that it was situated in a valley between the mountains of Libanus and Anti-libanus, in that part of Syria of which Damascus was the capital. A town called Paradise was in this vicinity, which is mentioned by both Pliny and Ptolemy. There is a village called Eden in Tripoli, situated on Mount Libanus, near to the river Adonia and to the cedars of Libanus. Maundrell mentions this village as being in the vicinity of the terrestrial Paradise; but this seems to bear no analogy whatever to the description given by Moses. The term Eden is often used in Scripture (see Amos i. and v., and other Prophets). Having wandered about in the mazes of speculation to find the terrestrial Paradise, I will now cursorily dwell on the etymology of the word " Paradise," which was primarily used to indicate the place in which Adam was seated during his innocence. The Greek word implies "orchard," or a place stored with apples and all sorts of fruits. It may be also called the "garden of delight," from the same language," voluptus," or pleasure. It is likewise used in the New Testament for the final habitation of the blessed, or "Heaven." The word " Eden," according to its primary mean |