s of a deep blue, lightly
rippled; here and there small wave-crests, white with foam, surge up,
like lilies, from the infinite depths. The air is soft and mild;
sometimes the clouds unite above our heads and slide downwards into the
west, while the eastern portion of the celestial vault is serene and
pure as a diamond of the finest water. Above and around us we see only
the sky and the sea, but they are calm and beautiful."

The Holy Land comes in sight, and a flood of emotions rushes upon our
poet's soul. "David," she says, "did not rise earlier than I to see the
day break over the shores of Palestine. A fire-red cloud was spread
like an arch above the verdurous hills, green with palms and other
trees. Upon a height near the shore was grouped a mass of houses of grey
stone, with low cupola roofs. Here and there the palm-trees towered
among them. It was Jaffa, the ancient Joppa, one of the oldest cities in
the world. In the distance rose a chain of deep blue mountains,
perpendicular as a wall; it was the Judaean chain. Further to the west,
another considerable chain descended seaward; that was Carmel. At a
still greater distance, in the same direction, and in the interior of
the country, is a lofty mountain, snow-crowned, and, beyond that wall of
rock, invisible to our eyes, lay Jerusalem!"

Landing at Joppa, Miss Bremer and her party hired horses to carry them
to the Holy City; but it was not without much mental perturbation that
the novelist, who was but an indifferent equestrian, saw herself at the
mercy of a young and fiery courser. On this occasion she gained two
victories--one over herself and one over her steed, whose ardent
impatience she contrived to master.

The small caravan with which Miss Bremer travelled included a Russian
princess, two boyars, and some Englishmen; among others there was a
professor with a cynical smile and a sarcastic wit, who possessed a
happy faculty of describing, in epigrammatic phrase and always at the
right moment, the more noticeable features of the manners of the
natives. While the first-named of these eminent personages rode in
advance, Mr. Levison, the professor, remained by the side of Miss Bremer
in the rear. Between the two cultured minds there was a certain bond of
sympathy, and the length of the journey was beguiled by their animated
conversations.

The professor amused himself by calling our novelist Sitti, an Arabic
title bestowed upon women of high rank, and almost e