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Visit to the Dead Sea.

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Frauds may occur by insuring diseased hundred and sixty-eight pounds, and six persons. The company should have their deaths deducted six hundred pounds, leave own surgeon's certificate, founded on in- eight hundred and sixty-eight pounds. The quiries in the place of residence, as well as second year begins by receiving nine hunpersonal examination. A prudent mutual | dred and ninety-four premiums, which, life insurance, should have nothing to do with the balance of last year, is two thouwith house or ship insurance. The com- sand three hundred and thirty-four pounds, pany are in fact the insured persons, whose and interest to the end of the second year committee preside over the bank account, is two thousand four hundred and four and surgeon's conduct. pounds, subtract six deaths six hundred The average age of insurances that have pounds; which leaves one thousand eight been made, is forty-six years old, and the hundred and four pounds. Then at the end average deaths are six in one thousand of the third year, there is in hand two each year, if the thousand began all at thousand seven hundred and fifty-nine twenty years of age. The receipts of the | pounds. After forty years' increase of profit, company are to be vested at interest, and the probable accumulation will meet all the demands, until in about eighty years the chance is, that one thousand insurers, of twenty years old each, would exhaust the profits.

The society should not insure less than one hundred, nor more than one thousand pounds; less than ten years, or more than sixty. There should be no insurance for seven years of a life, or for two children jointly, on the plan which evades the usury laws.

The object of a prudent mutual insurance is intended for the advantage of widows and orphans of the church, army, navy, bar, medical tradesmen, working artisans, and all whose families are dependent on the life-interest of the head of the family. Those who must insure very large sums on particular circumstances, may resort to the public offices, and pay thirty per cent extra for their object; but a society which takes the smallest remunerating premium, should not risk it.

The Equitable Co. takes at the rate of forty-three shillings for seventy years old, and has laid up in eighty years a surplus of twelve millions of pounds.

The disposal of a surplus is not equitably attainable, it is so long to be deferred, and therefore the lowest premium is the best principle. A small growing surplus is always useful to meet peculiar adverse currents of mortality; and if they occur in the infancy of the society, it is necessary to postpone payments until they are practicable; but this is no longer than a year or two.

The progress of a rise and fall in the funds of the society, to its final close in the payment of all demands, leaving probably nothing behind, is this: one thousand persons of twenty years pay thirty shillings every year, to bequeath one hundred pounds payable at death. At the end of the first year, the premiums and interest on them may amount to one thousand four

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there must be a decrease to meet increased

demand, until in seventy or eighty years all is gone to the subscribers' families.

This calculation differs from the fact, as every day may produce new subscribers, and of every age; but it serves to shew the progress of the system.

VISIT TO THE DEAD SEA.

R. Y.

"Ar last we reached the brink of the precipices which hang over the Dea Sea. The dawn was now appearing; and in the gray and cold light, the lake was seen far beneath, stretched out to an interminable length, while the high mountains of Arabia Petraea, opposite, were shrouded in darkness. The descent of the heights was long and difficult; and ere we reached the bottom, the ruddy glow of morning was on the precipices over our heads. The line of shore at the bottom was about two hundred yards wide, and we hastened to the edge of the lake; but for several yards from it the foot sank in a black mud, and its surface was every where covered with a grayish scurf, which we were obliged to remove before tasting it. There was not a breath of wind, and the waters lay like lead on the shore. Whoever has seen the Dead Sea will ever after have its aspect impressed on his memory; it is, in truth, a gloomy and fearful spectacle. The precipices, in general, descend abruptly into the lake, and on account of their height, it is seldom agitated by the winds. Its shores are not visited by any footstep, save that of the wild Arab, and he holds it in superstitious dread. On some parts of the rocks there is a thick sulphureous incrustation, which appears foreign to their sub| stance; and in their steep ascents, there are several deep caverns, where the benighted Bedouin sometimes finds a home. No unpleasant effluvia are perceptible around it, and birds are seen occasionally flying across. For a considerable distance from

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Antiquity, Origin, and Name of London.

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the bank, the water appeared very shal-shone full on the bosom of the lake, which low: this, with the soft slime of the bot- had the appearance of a plain of burnished tom, and the fatigue we had undergone, gold. But the sadness of the grave was on it, prevented our trying its buoyant properties and around it, and the silence also. However by bathing. A few inches beneath the vivid the feelings are on arriving on its shores, surface of the mud are found those black they subside after a time into languor and sulphureous stones, out of which crosses are uneasiness, and you long, if it were posmade, and sold to the pilgrims. The water sible, to see a tempest wake on its bosom, has an abominable taste, in which that of to give sound and life to the scene. salt, predominates; and we observed in crustations of salt on the surface of some of the rocks.

"The mountains of the Judæan side are lower than those of the Arabian, and also of a lighter colour: the latter chain at its southern extremity is said to consist of dark granite, and is of various colours. The hills which branch off from the western end are composed entirely of white chalk: bitumen abounds most on the opposite shore. There is no outlet to this lake, though the Jordan flows into it, as did formerly the Kedron, and the Arnon to the south. It is not known that there has ever been any visible increase or decrease of its waters. Some have supposed that it finds a subterraneous passage to the Mediterranean, or that there is a considerable suction in the plain which forms its western boundary. But this plain, confined by the opposing mountains, is partially cultivated, and produces trees, and a rude pasture used by the camels of the Bedouins; although in some parts sandy. It has never been navigated since the cities were ingulfed and it is strange that no traveller should have thought of launching a boat to explore it, the only way that promises any success. Mr. H. travelled completely round it, but the journey was a very tedious and expensive one, as it occupied several weeks, and he was obliged to take a strong guard. He made no discovery.

"The superior of St. Laba related that the people of the country, who had crossed it on camels, in the shallower parts near the southern extremity, had declared to him that they had seen the remains of walls, and other parts of buildings, beneath | the water: this is an old tale, although the waters have the property of incrusting and preserving most substances. Some stunted shrubs and patches of grass, a mere mockery of verdure, were scattered on the withered soil near the rocks... The golden and treacherous apples will be sought for in vain, as well as fish in the lake, which have also been asserted to exist. Its length is probably about sixty miles, and the general breadth eight: it might be six miles over, where we stood. The sun had now risen abote the eastern barrier of mountains, and |

123.-VOL. XI.

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"We had now passed some hours at the lake, much to the discontent of Ibrahim, who, pacing up and down the shore, and gazing at the caverns, and the summits of the cliffs, was incessantly talking of the probable approach of the Arabs, or their espying us from above. The passage over the wilderness of Ziph had given us a more complete and intimate view of the lake than the usual route to Jericho, which conducts only to its commencement, at the embouchure of the Jordan. The narrow beach terminated about two hundred yards below where the cliffs sank abruptly into the sea. We had now to walk to its extremity along the shores, and over the plain beyond to Jericho, in a sultry day; and we took a last look at this famous spot, to which, earth perhaps can furnish no parallel. The precipices around Sinai are savage and shelterless, but not like these, which looks as if the finger of an avenging God had passed over their blasted fronts and recesses, and the deep at their feet, and caused them to remain for ever as when they first covered the guilty cities." -Carne's Letters from the East, vol. 2, p. 11.

ON THE ANTIQUITY, ORIGIN, AND NAME

OF LONDON. (Transcribed verbatim, from an old volume printed in the year 1681.)

OUR famous antiquaries generally agree, that the Britains, whose posterity now inhabit the dominion of Wales, and are called Welsh, were the founders of the renowned city of London. They were in the old times, known by the name of Aborigines, because they first inhabited the country.

1. Some derive the name London (which is the greatest probability) from the British word Llhong, which signifies a ship, and Dinan, a town, that is, a Town of Ships, this city being in all ages, since its foundation, very renowned for shipping and navi| gation.

2. Others from Llhwindian, because (as Cæsar in his Commentaries, and Strabo, mention) the ancient Britains called, their fortified woods Ilhon, which is equivalent

R

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Origin of Dooms-day Book.-Druidical Circle.

to a fenced town; and that where St. Paul's church now stands, there was in old times a wood, where a temple was built for Diana; it being the custom of those pagan times to build their fanes or temples to Diana, in woods or groves; and so it signifies Diana's town.

3. Some derive it from Llhandian; the Britains still calling Llan a church, and so may signifie Diana's church or temple; for there have been frequently digged up oxen's heads and bones, which have been offered as victims or sacrifices there, viz. in Camera Diana. So that this word came in tract of time to be pronounced London.

Cæsar (Comment. lib. 5.) called it Civitas Trinobantum, viz. the City of the Trinobants, (some would have it translated the state of Trinobants,) for Troja Nova,or Troy Novant, New Troy; which appellation was in old times by many ascribed to London, as Geoffery of Monmouth, the Welsh historian, affirms.

It is said by the same author, that King Lud repaired this city, and much augmented it with fair buildings, calling it Caire-Lud, that is, Lud's Town, and from him Ludgate takes its name.

This city was built 2789 years ago, that is, 1108 years before the birth of Christ, and (by the exactest computation) in the time of Samuel the prophet, and 350 years before the building of Rome. Of all historians, Cornelius Tacitus, who first called it Londinum, says, that it was in his time, (which is about 1655 years ago,) Copia Negotiatorum & Commeatu valde celebre; that is, very famous for multitude of merchants and traffick, (or commerce.) Herodian, in the Life of the Emperor Severus, says it was urbs magna & opulenta, that is, a great and rich city. Marcellinus says, that in his time (which is 1200 and odd years ago) it was vetustum oppidum, an ancient town. Fitz-Stephens tells us, that hæc civitas urbe Roma, secundum chronicorum fidem, satis antiquior est, &c. viz. This city, according to the credit of chronologers, is far more ancient than Rome.

In the flourishing estate of London it was called Augusta, a name denoting dignity | and majesty; for the great Octavian, successor to Julius Cæsar, took to himself the name of Augustus, as a title most sacred and honourable, This, Marcellinus witnesses, in his 27th and 28th books, calling it Augusta, and that in old times it was called London. It was very famous by that appellation under the emperor Valentinian. And in Constantine's time there was a mint appointed there, and money stamped with this impression, P. Lon. S.

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that is, Pecunia Londinus Signata, money stamped in London; and the overseer or master of the mint was called Præpositus Thesaurorum Augustensium, that is, provost of the treasures of Augusta in Britain. Preston Brook, Jan. 9, 1829.

S. X.

THE ORIGIN OF DOOMS-DAY BOOK. (Extracted verbatim from an old volume printed in the year 1681.) `

THE Dooms-day Book was six years in making by William the Conqueror, and is a cense or compute of all England as it was then, viz. all the lands, with the value and owners, and account of all cities, towns, villages, families, men, souldiers, husbandmen, servants, cattle; how much money, rents, meadow, pasture, woods, tillage, common, marsh, heath, every one possessed. So that in disputes about taxes, this determined it without further controversie, as the Book of the great Day of Doom will then, (and therefore so called.) It is kept under three locks, and not to be looked into under 6s. 8d. And for every line transcribed, is to be paid 4d.

Preston Brook, Jan. 9, 1829. S.X.

DRUIDICAL CIRCLE IN THE PARISH OF

BEECHING STOKE, IN THE HUNDRED OF
SWANBOROUGH, WILTS.

ON the road from the village of Beeching
Stoke to Marden, the remains of a Druidi-
cal circle, exactly similar to that of Ave-
bury, are clearly perceptible, though the
mound is not so high, nor the ditch so
deep, as at that magnificent monument.
When we say that it resembles Avebury,
the remark must be understood as referring
to the manner in which the ditch is placed
in the interior of the mound, evidently de-
noting that it could have been used for no
purpose of protection, but merely to enclose
some consecrated spot, the exact use of
which is still a subject of dispute among
antiquaries. This circular entrenchment
has no stones, nor can any marks be per-
ceived where they have stood. The situa-
tion, moreover, resembles that of Avebury,
which stands on a gentle slope of a hill,
with its aspect to the south-west.

We are informed by a gentleman, who has long resided in the neighbourhood, that it originally displayed a lofty tumulus in the centre; but this was levelled some years ago by a farmer, who then occupied the soil. In the course of its demolition, he discovered what is usually met with in British barrows, some human bones, and

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Burning Cliff.-Massacre of the Mamalukes.

over them two horns of deer. There is also, near the south-east quarter of this circle, a small tumulus surrounded by a trench, and around it a small mound. What was the purpose of it, is a question of great perplexity. Some one has suggested, that it might have been the seat of the arch-druid, when he came there once in every year to pronounce summary judgment in civil and ecclesiastical causes, there referred to him. This, however, is no more than the merest conjecture.

Crossing the road from hence, it may be traced under the brow of the hill; it is then lost for about sixty yards, when we again recover it, and follow the outline as far as the water-meadows, which it originally embraced, extending, as may be supposed, nearly down to the little river Avon. All this portion is now levelled, and we leave the meadows, and ascend to the cultivated fields above them. Notwithstanding so much levelling for the purposes of agriculture, its form is in some parts very decided, and nothing is left for imagination or invention, so far as relates to the circular plan and design of the entrenchment. The pretended tumulus on the summit is a hopeless subject for conjecture.-Crypt, Nov. 1828, No. 20.

BURNING CLIFF AT HOLWORTH.

THE interesting subject of Holworth cliff has now, for more than a year and a half, occupied no inconsiderable share of public notice; to some it may seem like an old garment, "worn threadbare ;" but in the mind of the naturalist and geologist, its living and active agencies cannot fail of still exciting particular and urgent motives for further information.

The varying appearances of the cliff have been so minutely detailed, that little can now be said, without partially repeating what has been already described, the effects of which, as a "twice-told tale," would be lessened on repetition.

The additional feature, so remarkably apparent in April last, of the vapour issuing out in irregular and occasionally interrupted streams, has again become a prominent trait of this phenomenon. The fissures in its craggy side, now "belch out clouds of rolling smoke," but humid and earthly, impregnated with most nauseous effluvia, from eight orifices, accompanied with those characteristics incident to such an extraordinary occurrence. It is deserving notice, that as this novel feature happened on the former occasion about the vernal equinox, so the recurrence now falls

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about the autumnal equinox, and as the gusts or belching out of the vapour regularly follow the ingress of each succeeding wave, it is certainly corroborative of the opinion formerly hazarded, of the influence of salt water on, and connexion with, the interior of the cliff.

The latter end of August, several of the fissures exhibited masses of ignited rock, of a bright red, such as the fire of a glasshouse appears when seen from a distant place, and occasionally since, during the night, similar vivid indications have been visible; but the continued clear sky, and powerful effect of the sun's rays, have lately prevented the appearance of fire during daylight.

The dry and disordered surface of the cliff yet presents all those important and variegated exterior features, which have from time to time induced the inquisitive and natural observations of the casual visitor; it is variously coloured, particularly in the neighbourhood of the apertures, principally with red and yellow materials, visibly excoriated. The original slope of the side, no longer preserved, is entirely broken and deranged in furrowed cliffs and crevices, the strata so contorted, as to present the most decisive demonstration of recent and pretty deep convulsion.

The singularity of this phenomenon cannot but excite the liveliest emotions in the most indifferent spectator; what then must be the sensations of the more refined philosopher, contemplating this burning mass of mixed substances, forming, as it were, barely a speck or point, among the inscrutable secrets of nature, which leave the most extreme energies of human intellect and ingenuity, at an immeasurable distance.-Dorset County Chronicle.

MASSACRE OF THE MAMALUKES.

GRAND Cairo is encompassed by a wall, which is about ten miles in circumference, and of great antiquity. Mount Mokotam stands near the city, of which, and the whole country, it commands a most extensive prospect. This mountain is of a yellow colour, and perfectly barren. Beneath, and in a very elevated position, is the citadel, which is of great extent, and in many parts very ruinous. This fortress is now more famous for the massacre of the Mamaluke Beys, than for any other event. The Mamaluke force in Cairo consisted of from five to ten thousand choice troops, commanded by their various Beys. It was a novel and splendid spectacle to a stranger, to view the exercises, the rich accoutrements, and capi

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tal horsemanship of the Mamalukes, which were exhibited every day in the great square of the city.

The chiefs and Mahmoud were constantly jealous of each other: he longed to curtail or destroy their power, and they dreaded his unprincipled ambition. After this state of affairs had lasted a good while, sometimes in open hostility, sometimes under a hollow friendship, the pacha professed the most entire and cordial reconciliation, terms of amity were agreed on, and he invited the Beys to a splendid banquet in the citadel. The infatuation of these unfortunate men was singular, in trusting to the protestations of a man whose faithless character they knew so well. It was a beautiful day, and the three hundred chiefs, on their most superb coursers, and in their costliest robes, entered the long and winding pass that conducts towards the citadel. This pass was so narrow as to oblige each horseman to proceed singly; and broken and precipitous rocks rose on each side. The massy gate of entrance to the pass was closed on the last Mamaluke, and the long file of chiefs, in their pride and splendour, yet broken by the windings of the defile, proceeded slowly to the gate of the citadel, which was fast shut. From behind the rocks above, opened at once a fire of musketry so close and murderous, that the unhappy chiefs gazed around in despair; they drew their sabres, and, as the coursers pranced wildly beneath their wounds, each Bey was heard to utter a wild shriek as he sank on the ground,-and in a short time all was hushed. Mahmoud heard from his apartment in the citadel, the tumult and outcries; and never were sounds more welcome to his ear. This massacre completely broke the power of the Mamalukes; on the loss of their chiefs, the troops fled from Cairo.-Carne's Letters from the East, vol. i. p. 106.

POETRY.

(For the Imperial Magazine.)

THE MISSIONARY'S RETREAT; OR, FARE-
WELL TO NEW ZEALAND.

LAND of my once endearing hopes, farewell!
Ye bleak, inhospitable shores, adieu!
I leave you. Deep conflicting feelings swell
My anxious bosom, as I pensive view
Our friendly bark her steady course pursue,
And yonder less'ning, hostile hills recede.

The savage hordes, delighting to imbrue
Their hands in blood, are ready for the deed;
But from the threat'ned doom the Mission, now is
freed.

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Hark! 'tis the warwhoop thund'ring from afar,
See the armed natives blacken all the shore !
Those death-charged quivers and dread shouts of

war,

Doubtless proclaim our Mission task is o'er;
And, lo! with hurried steps and wild uproar,
Prompt at their dying chieftain's fell command,
They go, to stain with Missionary gore,
The oft-polluted sanguinary strand,

And re-assert the barbarous manners of the land.
The gathering bands surround our former station,
And clouds of smoke, in dark'ning columns rise;
Yon bursting flames announce the preparation,
To offer up a human sacrifice.

They pause, and silence reigns. Now doleful
cries

Of disappointment, on the stillness pour :
"Tis known the feast-devoted, victim-prize,
Which they, elate, assembled to devour,

Has fled beyond the bounds of their terrific power.
Now on the sea intent they seem to gaze,

And in the distance view our fleeing sail;
Now 'mong the rocks disperse in various ways,
And to the ocean tell their mournful tale,
Hoping they still may reach us, and prevail.
Fleets of canoes, in martial ranks combined,

Start from the shore-but all their efforts fail.
Our vessel onward glides before the wind,
Quick o'er the billowy deep, and leaves them far
behind.

Dim in th' horizon land and sea appear;

And now, thank,Heaven! the appalling danger's
past:

No sound disturbs the anxious list'ning ear,
Save the wild weltering of the watery waste.
Anon-as vapour-waves yon hill invest,
A lambent light its living crown illumes:

The ruby sun, now sailing down the west,
Withdraws his fame, and all the scene deplumes,
And in another clime his radiant course resumes.
Where skies, reclining on the darkling wave
That laves the shores of cannibal renown,
Blush on that stranger's awe-inspiring grave,
Or changeful lowering wear an angry frown,
I pensive gaze regretful: I have known
A brighter prospect cheer our arduous toil.
Ah! is the sun of heavenly truth gone down?
Set in dread darkness, or eclips'd awhile?
Oh! may it soon relume the guilt-benighted isle!
As the lone moon, emerging from the flood,

Holds her pale lamp, to light us on her way-
While kindling gems the vault of heaven bestud,
As silent Eve puts on her mantle gray-
Scenes more sublime my mental eyes survey.
Yes, recollection still returns to thee,

Land of hopes blighted! and recalls the day,
When thy glad natives bow'd the willing knee,
And hail'd the eternal standard of the Deity.

Success awhile unwearied labours crown'd,
And in bright colours expectation drew
The future. To the gospel's joyful sound,
The rude unletter'd race, of sombre hue,
List'ned attentive, and submissive grew.
Around the Mission-house, at even-tide,
Assembling oft, in peaceful order due,

They own'd their teachers as a heaven-sent guide,
And to our guardian care did many a youth
confide.

Their chieftain's favouring smiles we then possess'd,

And halcyon peace resumed her cheering reign;
Numbers Jehovah's sacred name confess'd,

And, taught by us to raise the pious strain,
To Him who for the heathen race was slain,
Ecstatic notes injuncouth accents flow.

They wish'd us oft to tell them o'er again,
How Jesus came sojourning here below,
To save th' apostate world from everlasting wo.
Hail! scene divine, deep graven on the mind,
Which long, to memory dear, will joys afford,
When distant tribes, in seeming love combined,
Beneath the shade, the Christian's God adored;

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