my daily bread, as the paid clerk of Messrs. Vondergoggell, Stumpett, and Boozy!!

These thoughts would pass bitterly enough through my brain at times. But better reflections and more submissive feelings would take their place; and on the first day I sat on my stool I came to a threefold determination, the result of much previous consideration and decision.

First, always to be punctual to engagements and stated hours; secondly, to make free with no one,

but keep up my reserve of manner; and thirdly, never to put off to the morrow what I could do to-day. To one who had been educated as I had been under my uncle's rather strict martinet habits, these things were easy to achieve; and so it came to pass that in three months, I found myself both trusted and respected by my employers, and on the happiest and safest terms with my fellow clerks, as well as with a number of young men who were serving their apprenticeship to the firm.

So powerfully attractive is the charm that invests the Holy Land, that unconsciously we find ourselves catching at points and seeking for scenes, not in any consecutive order, but merely as they possess more or less interest in our minds. Thus, after a perusal of Mr. Stanley's work, we find the striking events of the Sacred History, as connected with their geographical position, rising like landmarks in our memory. The ascent out of Egypt, Mount Sinai, Tor, Horeb, Bethlehem, Jerusalem, Samaria, Tabor, Carmel, Jordan, all and each appear like mountain tops in the landscape, and defy any exact or regular review of this the latest and most accurate description of scenery, occurrences, and a people with which the holiest and most ancient of records has made us all familiar from our childhood. Whether or not our author has added any further information to that which we had already possessed respecting the history and geography of the Israelites, he has been the first adequately to illustrate the relation which they bear each to the other. His has been the task to point out how much or how little the Bible gains by being seen, so to speak, through the eyes of the country, or the country by being seen through the eyes of the Bible-to ex

hibit the effect of the Holy Land on the course of the Holy History.

In accomplishing this task, Mr. Stanley has succeeded in steering clear of two errors. On the one hand, how many travellers in Palestine have gone thither seeking for "confirmatory evidence of the authenticity of Revelation," forgetting that the truth of the Bible requires no confirmation; it is firmly established on higher and divine grounds. As Mr. Stanley well observes, we should, however, thankfully receive any additional evidence to the faithfulness of the Sacred Writings, and there is certainly a remarkable general correspondence between the recorded history and the natural geography; but they who hope that every step in Israel's wanderings can be traced will be grievously disappointed. And not only so, but there will be, however unintentionally, in the recitals of such travellers an obvious exaggeration, and a straining of circumstances to meet their preconceived ideas, which must defeat their own ends, and may afford an excuse to others to fall into the opposite error. Their successors in the route may be those who much doubt the truth of revelation. When instead of finding, as they have been told, the path of Moses, Joshua, and the chosen

people so clearly traced that "he who runs may read," they in more than one instance are met only by questionable facts and more than questionable traditions, can we wonder that they should deny altogether what they cannot altogether discern? But are they justified in so doing? Would they reject any other history on such grounds? Is every fact in our secular history indisputable? Or rather, is there one of which the details at one time or another have not been questioned? How often are we forced to admit uncertainty in the most important of our modern contests, as, for example, that at Gravelines. We know that a battle has been fought; we know which party has gained the victory; but as to further particulars, the conflicting evidence of historians leaves us completely in doubt. But because opinions differ, and truth is difficult to be ascertained, who would dream of rejecting all history? To those, To those, therefore, who deny the divine origin of the Scriptures, we say, admit that the precise route of the Israelites is obscure; admit that we cannot now fix on the site of Migdol, of Pihahiroth, or of Elim, still that there is an agreement between the recorded localities and the sacred writings, the reluctant testimony of the infidel has been compelled to acknowledge. And though even only in one instance "the aspect of the ground should indicate that some of the great wonders in the history of the chosen people" had been wrought there, does not such a discovery prove the general truth of the narrative? Would it not be deemed sufficient in any other history? and in any other country would not allowance be made for the lapse of time, the consequent changes in its existing features, to say nothing of our own ignorance?

But to return, Mr. Stanley, as we have said, has steered clear of the two errors, over credulity and bigotted unbelief; and his work is replete with valuable information concerning countries and places which it is no exaggeration to say, are the most interesting that exist. We may visit the scene of the contest at Marathon, folabe victory of Arminius, or may Mess the steps of the retreat of the the ousand, and feel, as we read, following interest in every fibre of

our frame, but it will be a mere passing emotion. A truth forgotten may to all intents and purposes be unknown, and it is but seldom that the scenes of former times occur to our minds; and when they do, they are compelled shortly to give place to the more urgent interests of daily life. But, as Mr. Stanley says, "the local features of the Holy Land, and the scenes in Israel's history, have naturally become the household imagery of Christendom." The "deliv erance from Egypt" has become with us the type of the freedom from a severer thraldom. "The Rock" which followed the freed ones follows us too of Marah's bitter waters we also taste on our onward journey; and the valley of Achor ("trouble") is made with us "a door of hope." Mount Sinai, the Valley of Rephidim, the passage of the Jordan, Bethlehem, and the Lake of Gennesereth, each has entwined itself with our religion. May we not go a step farther, and say that, great as has been the past, and absorbing as is the present interest of Israel and Israel's land, the future lends them a no less attractive charm? Can we look at Jerusalem, and fail to think not only of the Temple, of the entry of our Lord into the city, and of the Mount of Olives,-not only of the promises which are more stable than the everlasting hills, but also of the time when the Jews shall have returned to their much-loved land, when their Temple will be once more built, and when" His feet shall once again stand on the Mount of Olives?” It is then with the feelings of intense interest which this "threefold cord" must necessarily produce, that we follow Mr. Stanley's description of the scenes of Israel's captivity, journeyings, and final residence.

Mr. Stanley first ascended the Nile, and penetrated into the Desert of Nubia. Returning to Cairo, he made a pilgrimage to the wilds of Arabia Petræa, traversing the routes of the children of Israel in their wanderings in the wilderness. He ascended the highlands of Syria, scrutinising every place of note connected with the gospel history, and sifting their traditions;-he describes his impressions of the trans-Jordanie country, descends into the plain of Esdraelon, and, pursuing his journey into Galilee, traces the Jordan to its source.

Immediately above the brown and blue waters of the broad, calm, lakelike river, rises a thick black bank of clod or mud, mostly in terraces. Green-unutterably green-mostly at the top of these banks, though sometimes creeping down to the water's edge, lies the land of Egypt. Green -unbroken, save by the mud villages which here and there lie in the midst of the verdure, like the marks of a soiled foot on a rich carpet; or by the dykes and channels which convey the life-giving waters through the thirsty land. This is the Land of Egypt, and this is the memorial of the yearly flood. Up those black terraces, or on those green fields, the water rises and descends; and not only when the flood is actually there, but throughout the whole year, is water continually ascending through innumerable wheels worked by naked figures, as the Israelites of old" in the service of the field," and then flowing on in gentle rills through the various allotments. To the seeds of these green fields, to the fishes of the wide river, is attached another natural phenomenon, which I never saw equalled: the numbers numberless of all manner of birds-vultures, and cormorants, and geese, flying like constellations through the blue heavens; pelicans standing in long array on the water side; woopoos and ziczacs, and the (so-called) white ibis, the gentle symbol of the god Osiris in his robes of white-walking under one's very feet.

Accustomed as we are to rivers having their origin in minor streams, gradually increasing as in their onward course they receive the accession of other rivers, and becoming thus at every stage larger and larger, we find it difficult to realize the anomalous attribute of the Nile,-its having no tributaries. Ascending hundreds of miles up the river, and reaching the Nubian hills, we might well expect to find a diminution of volume in its yast waters.

VOL. XLVIII.-NO. CCLXXXV.

But no--the breadth and strength below was all his own; and throughout that long descent he has not a drop of water but what he brought himself, and therefore you have the strange sight of a majestic river flowing like an arm of the sea in the highlands, as calm and as broad amongst these wild Nubian hills as in the plain of Egypt.

The only mode of communication being the river, whose flowing waters it would be impossible to ascend without wind, it would be comparatively unserviceable for the purposes of transit were it not for a singular peculiarity. What an instance of the adaptation of natural provisions to the necessities of mankind does this circumstance evince,-that for nine months of the year the north wind prevails, and especially during the prevalence of floods, when the strength of the current would otherwise forbid the upward navigation of the river.

Indeed in everything that concerns this wonderful river,-in the regularity with which the phenomenon of its periodical overflow takes place; in its rise and fall being greater or less in different parts of the country, according to the quantity of rain that usually falls the wisdom of Providence is strikingly conspicuous. "A few feet less than the ordinary height," says an accurate writer, "would prevent the spreading of the waters to a sufficient distance; a few feet more would prevent the water from draining off in the proper season for sowing, and spread devastation throughout the country."

We need not here dwell on the well-known circumstance that the Nile is the great benefactor of Egypt, nor that to it is owing the extraordinary productiveness of the soil of this granary of the ancient Romans, a productiveness so great as to call forth the unqualified admiration of more than one traveller.

"Our path," says St. John, in speaking of the Thebais or Upper Egypt, "lay over one of the richest and most highly cultivated plains I ever saw, covered with luxuriant crops of clover, lentils, lupines, onions, sugar-cane, wheat, and about two thousand acres of beans in blossom. On all sides, as far as the eye could reach, arose the date groves, in which the villages stood embosomed; sheep, goats, horses, buffaloes, &c., were

U

feeding in numerous groups among the rich pasturage, which having been drenched by the dews of the preceding night, every blade and leaf now glittered with sparkling dew drops. Scarcely could paradise itself be more delightful than the land now before us, the whole atmosphere being perfumed faintly but deliciously by the scent of many flowers, while every object which presented itself to the eye was clothed with inimitable freshness and beauty. I could now comprehend why the Romans sent their consumptive patients, and the Turks their men grown prematurely old by excess, to the banks of the Nile; for nowhere on earth could they in winter find a more congenial climate than that of the Thebais."

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"No flat region," says Dr. Duff, speaking of Lower Egypt, can be more beautiful. The waters of the annual inundation had not wholly withdrawn from the land, but half subsided on the channel of the river. Vast level plains spread out on all sides, having their carefully cultivated soil clad in the living green which distinguishes the first fresh blades of vegetation in the month of May in the British climes; and their borders, fringed with rows, and their points of junction garnished with clumps and groves of date trees, palmyras, sycamores, and other evergreens. Thus for miles together it presented the aspect of a well dressed garden."

Leaving behind him the valley of the Nile, and the monuments of Egypt, of which he has given highly interesting sketches, our traveller enters upon the broad track of the desert.

There is but one interest attached to the land of Sinai. Through it the children of Israel passed. Its history is comprised in the Exodus. Since that event nothing notable has occurred in this distinguished country. It forms, as it were, but one scene in the history of the world. And yet this one scene is enhanced in our mind's eye by the fact of it thus standing alone. In other countries we overwhelmed by the variety of events that have occurred within their limits, and each new actor who appears upon the stage effaces in a degree the memory of his predecessor's greatness. For example, what traveller to Rome feels his interest concentrated in any

are

The

one point in her history? Recollection after recollection presses through the mind, each succeeding one struggling for the pre-eminence. independence of her republic fades in the imagination before the glories of her imperial crown; the brilliancy of her empire before the absoluteness of her ecclesiastical sway; her first kingly dignity before all. But not so with Sinai. The Red Sea is connected in our minds solely with Israel's deliverance and Egypt's destruction; on Sinai's heights a scene of stupendous interest once took place, and nothing in after ages has occurred there to draw away our attention from it. Mount Hor is only known to us as Aaron's Grave. In his description of the peninsula of Sinai, our author keeps this, its peculiarity, well in view, and also dwells much on the contrast its desert plains and jagged mountains must have afforded to the Israelites, accustomed as they had been to Egypt's verdant soil.

The peninsula of Mount Sinai is situated between the Gulf of Suez and the Gulf of Akaba; the latter, now wholly deserted, was formerly the great thoroughfare of the fleets of Solomon the former now constitutes the great highway of Eastern traffic, in connexion with the overland route to India. To the Israelites emerging from Egypt this peninsula exhibited many remarkable features. What greater contrast could be presented to the green valley of the Nile, with its constant hum of busy life, than the utter desolation of the wilderness of Sinai, wrapt in the silence of the tomb -a silence described by travellers as so deep, that at a distance of sixty feet the words of a reader, distinct but not loud, are perfectly audible? Niebuhr was assured by the Arabs, in the exaggerated style of Eastern story, that the human voice could be heard across the gulf of Akaba. Again, in their journeyings in the wilderness, where "there was no water for them to drink," they no longer enjoyed the refreshing waters of the Nile, "waters so delicious," says the Abbé Mascrier, "that one could not wish the heat to be less, or to be delivered from the sensation of thirst." The Turks find it so exquisite, that they excite themselves to drink of it by eating salt; and the daughters of the Ptolemies, when

married to foreign princes, are said to have hired carriers at a vast expense, to bring them bottles of their favourite beverage, which they prized above the greatest luxuries. The conformation, also, of the country presented striking peculiarities. The sandy plain, the rocky peninsula, the jagged mountains of the Tor, the rugged passes, all were in direct contrast to the plains of Egypt. Some of the defiles leading to the cliffs above are described as terminating in an ascent so steep as to be almost a staircase of rock. The mountain land of the peninsula presents an appearance of extraordinary confusion. Sir Frederick Henniker graphically describes the view as if "Arabia Petræa were an ocean of lava, which, whilst its waves were running mountains high, had suddenly stood still." It is impossible to conceive a scene of greater desolation than such mountains, utterly devoid of vegetation, now present to the traveller. Instead of numerous rills and torrents descending from the heights, and forming rivers flowing through the intersecting valleys, these mountains are surrounded by Wadys."

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It is necessary [says Mr. Stanley] to use this Arabic name, because there is no English word which exactly corresponds to the idea expressed by it. A hollow, a valley, a depression,-more or less deep, or wide, or long,-worn or washed by the mountain torrents or winter rains, for a few months or weeks in the year,-such is the general idea of an Arabian "Wady," whether in the Desert or in Syria.

Sometimes, though rarely, these wadys are suddenly converted into rushing torrents; but they usually present the appearance of dried-up river courses, only presenting the image of thirsty desolation the more strikingly, from the constant indications of water which is no longer there. These "rivers of the desert" form its boundaries, and its means of communication; through them the high roads run, and on their sides are erected the stations of the travellers.

But the present desolation of the peninsula is not without its exceptions. Here and there the pilgrim meets with patches of green, the more noticeable from their contrast with the dull crimson, the prevailing color of the desert. The importance of the

straggling vegetation is evinced by the fact that the valleys and mountains frequently derive their names from it. Um-Shomer, the highest peak in the mountains of the Tor, signifies "the mother of fennel," so called from the fennel which Burckhardt long ago described as characteristic of Sinai.

Whoever has observed a recently cut embankment, ere it has had time to be covered with grass, and while it presents a hard, dry, stony surface, must have noticed how here and there a little oozing of water gradually changes the aspect; first there is the spreading dampness, and immediately grass springs up, covering every part over which the water is diffused. These patches of vegetation represent on a small scale the spots of verdure which appear on the sides of the valleys in the Desert; save that there they remain but detached specks of life, perpetual contrasts with the arid

scene.

These springs, whose sources are for the most part high up in the mountain clefts, occasionally send down into the wadys rills of water, which however scanty, yet become the nucleus of whatever vegetation the desert produces. Often their course can be traced not by visible water, but a track of moss here, a fringe of rushes there, a solitary palm, a group of acacias, which at once denote that an unseen life is at work. Wherever these springs occur, there, we cannot doubt, must always have been the resort of the wanderers in the desert; and they occur at such frequent intervals, that, after leaving Suez, there is at least one such spot in each successive day's journey.

In all the deep valleys leading down from the mountains to the Gulf of Akaba, the verdure has spread into considerable tracts, presenting in this "union of vegetation with the fantastic scenery of the desolate mountains a combination as beautiful as it is extraordinary.”

Wherever, of course, a collection of springs increases this vegetation to any extent, the position becomes one of paramount importance to travellers. In three spots of the desert, and in three only, do these oases occur. The principal one is on Gebel Mousa, over the convent of St. Catherine; where a cluster of four such springs has rendered this a much frequented spot. Here the Bedouin tribes take up their abodes during the heats of summer.