perennial springs. The lake having a triangular form, the river issues through the apex, and, after running nine miles with a fall of 650 feet, expands into the Sea of Galilee, which is thirteen miles long and six wide. The inlet to the sea is seventy feet broad, and the waters, flowing between alluvial banks, are lazy and turbid. Purified in their passage through this second reservoir of the Jordan, they find an outlet in the southwest corner of the sea. Here the river is more than ninety feet wide, the banks are high and round, and the contiguous mountains rugged and barren. Half unwilling to leave the parent waters to take the headlong leap over twenty-seven rapids to the Sea of Death, the Jordan turns back upon itself; but, forced at length to return by the unyielding rocks, it cuts a channel westward, then west by south, when, impelled by the unchanging law of gravitation, it rushes madly southward, foaming and leaping downward 700 feet in less than sixty miles. Though, between the seas as the crow flies, the actual distance is not more than sixty miles, yet, owing to the infinite multiplication of its windings, it is more than 200 miles in length. The tortuous glen through which it flows varies in breadth from 200 to 600 yards, and in depth from fifty to eighty below the surrounding plain. The sides of the glen are abrupt and broken, composed of marl and clay intermixed with limestone. Where it is widest, the bottom is mud covered with reeds; where it is narrowest, it is rock and sand. Along its banks grow in rich profusion the scarlet anemone, the yellow marigold, the water-lily, the feathery tamarisk, the pink oleander, the Syrian thistle with its gorgeous purple blossom, and cane-reeds, oaks, willows, and wild pistachios. Amid foliage so rich and rare are birds of exquisite plumage and variant song. Disporting in the water are herons and ducks; dancing from bower to bower are sparrows, swallows, and nightingales; wheeling their tireless flight over stream and shrub are eagles, partridges, hawks, and snipes, while storks spread their vast wings along the banks, and “The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, Molest her ancient solitary reign.” In the deep, impenetrable jungle, extending for miles in depth along either bank, is now, as formerly, the hiding-place of the leopard, the wild boar, and tiger.