considerable town. The commerce, of which it might be the centre under a more judicious system of management, would probably suffice to maintain from twenty to thirty thousand. The best wine in Cyprus is manufactured in the vicinity; cotton, wheat, barley and mulberries are also objects of cultivation. The sugar-cane was introduced by the Venetians, but has long disappeared from the soil. There can be little doubt, however, that the district is admirably adapted for its cultivation.

Cures, the first village passed by the traveller on the road from Limassol to Baffa, is little better than a heap of ruins; yet it is situated in one of the few tracts of country which display evidences of cultivation and labour. The alternation of the vine plantations with those of mulberry and cotton was very pleasant to contemplate; whilst, as we rounded some bluff, we had often before us bare masses of rock surrounded by miniature forests of cypress-trees and dwarf-oaks, in the most picturesque contrast. At one moment we were shut out from all prospect of the sea by abrupt hills and steep irregular rocks, whilst the mountains, which we knew to be far distant, appeared in the clear blue air to be drawing ever nearer and nearer to us; at another, the distant hills were quite excluded from our view by overhanging trees, whilst the broad waters of the Levant washed the very pebbles at our feet. The heat was great, but by no means oppressive, whilst the frequent thunder-storms which burst over Cape St Andrias and Cape de Gotta were rather welcomed than dreaded, so clear and refreshing was the air subsequently.

The approach of one of these numerous thunder-storms is strange and somewhat portentous. A dark heavy cloud rises over the horizon to seaward, spreading its deep black shadow over the silvery waters.

A

faint ripple travels regularly over the ocean, to be succeeded by a threatening heaving of the sea, as if its mighty bosom were oppressed by throes of an

guish which it would shake off by sighs. The tops of the trees all around quiver, although there is as yet no breeze; the birds scream and flutter irresolutely about; the distant mountains lose their blue panoply, and put on a robe of dusky brown, or envelope themselves altogether in dark clouds. All nature is aware of the impending tumult, and awaits trembling. Every animal has sought shelter, and where in Cyprus may not ruins be found to yield it? The hoarse rumbling of the distant thunder is heard now, above the screaming of gulls and the sharp cawing of the rooks. A dark cloud overshadows us, and a few large drops prelude the coming deluge. Two or three vivid flashes of lightning, distinctly visible on the dark back-ground of the clouds, are followed by the roar of heaven's artillery in rapid succession, whilst a whole cataract of water is poured out of the black reservoirs above. The sea dances uneasily, every little wave capped with foam; the wind howls through the trees, or amid the ivy-covered ruins howls mournfully-the lightning flashes the thunder roars.

And now a gleam of sunshine bursts over the grass around. It is but momentary, but it is a certain harbinger of calmness coming. Another gleam. The rain dies away into a mist; the mist gives place to a flood of sunshine. The drops on the leaves and on the blades of grass and on the wet flowers glitter like gems. The sea calms itself with many a rough shake, like some rude animal. The distant mountains throw off their dark coverings, and put on their blue mantles again. All nature is joyous. From a thousand tiny throats a song of praise bursts forth-the animals emerge from their hiding-places. The beams of the sun soon dry up the abundant moisture, and, amid a cool, clear, bracing air, the travellers go on their way rejoicing.

Such are the storms that burst over the rocky bluffs of Cape St. Andrias and the low-lying sands of Cape de Gotta.

him

"AND when they (Barnabas and Saul) had gone through the island unto Paphos, they found a certain sorcerer, a false prophet, a Jew, whose name was Bar-Jesus which was with the deputy of the country, Sergius Paulus, a prudent man; who called for Barnabas and Saul, and desired to hear the word of God. But Elymas the sorcerer (for so is his name by interpretation) withstood them, seeking to turn away the deputy from the faith. Then Saul (who is also called Paul) filled with the Holy Ghost, set his eyes on him and said, O full of all subtilty and all mischief, thou child of the devil, thou enemy of all righteousness, wilt thou not cease to pervert the right ways of the Lord? And now, behold, the hand of the Lord is upon thee, and thou shalt be blind, not seeing the sun for a season. And immediately there fell upon a mist and a darkness; and he went about seeking some one to lead him by the hand. Then the deputy, when he saw what was done, believed, being astonished at the doctrine of the Lord. Now when Paul and his company loosed from Paphos, they came to Perga in Pamphylia." Such is the wonderful record in the words of Holy Writ, of the visit of the apostle of the Gentiles and his companions to Paphos. They had travelled through the island from Salamis, probably by the coast, along the very same road as that by which we had journeyed-past the salt-marsh of Salina, the Teze, the Amathonte, and the ancient Limassol. They had probably forded, like us, the torrent called Lycus by the ancients, at the entrance of the district of Episcopi embowered in gardens. They had probably crossed the mountains between Episcopi and the region of Cytherea and Paphos by the same rugged, uneven road, leaving the orchards of citron, orange and olive trees behind them, which doubtless then as now made Episcopi the garden of Cyprus. They had passed too the celebrated temple of Cytherea, then standing in all its glory, now utterly destroyed and covered with vegetation that its very site is difficult

80

to determine, and, at last, wearied doubtless and physically depressed, tho' mentally vigorous, they had arrived at Paphos to strike the sorcerer with darkness and open the mental eyes of Sergius Paulus.

However neglected Cyprus may be by Europe, however neglected too at Constantinople, this memorable visit of the most active of the apostles will ever render it an object of interest to the Christian world. It has its own claims on the classical student-it cannot but be interesting to any man that has loved ancient Greece; whilst to the student of modern history it presents as strange a lesson of flourishing prosperity followed by commercial paralysis and depopulation as any island in the world. But, however interesting to the classical reader or the student of history, the visit of "Barnabas and Saul" must ever remain as the great fact which connects the island with the struggling Christianity of the first century, and must ever render its claims great upon the sympathies of Christendom-to say nothing whatever of Richard and the crusaders, considerations through which it more particularly appeals to British notice.

The ancient Paphos was situated on what appears to have been a rocky ledge close by the sea shore. Its position, like that of all the temples to Venus in the island, was peculiarly picturesque and delightful. The blue waters of the Mediterranean must have spread out before its base like a vast plain-and even when agitated with storms could not but be an object of supreme interest. Behind, an undulating, well-wooded country, terminated in the mountain range which traverses the island; so that there was every feature of nature within view which could charm and interest.

Ancient Paphos, however, exists no more. The temple of Venus, the deputy's palace, the town itself, have all equally disappeared. An earthquake, which must have happened within the first four centuries of the Christian era, swallowed up alike the scene of the debaucheries of the vota

ries of Venus and the labours of the apostles. Not a vestige of buildings is to be seen. A few excavated rocks, doubtless tombs originally, alone indicate the neighbourhood of its site to the inquisitive tourist. It was on the shore in the immediate vicinity that Dido's armament seized seventy Cyprian damsels, the mothers of the future Carthaginian race. Justin (xviii. 5) tells us, indeed, that it was the custom of the island virgins to wander by the sea-shore, "pro reliqua pudicitia libamenta Veneri," &c.

A lake exists in the neighbourhood of the ancient Paphos, or rather, in the neighbourhood of the site of ancient Paphos, which, like all the lakes of the island, is a miasmatic marsh in summer. Doubtless this could be remedied by introducing supplies of water artificially, for there is no want of water; Cypriot supineness and Turkish misgovernment prevent all improvement. At Famagosta, at Larnacca, at Paphos, the lakes are the fertile sources of the fevers which desolate the country, and to which the poor, debilitated by scanty and unwholesome diet, are particularly liable.

On the western side of this lake lies the modern Baffa, once the seaport of ancient Paphos. It must originally have been a town of considerable extent, for its ruins indicate the fact; but at the present day it contains only a few hundred inhabitants-perhaps between two and three hundredincluding the guard of soldiers which Occupy a tower, erected on a cliff adjoining. If one wishes to obtain a lively idea of the desolation of Cyprus, let him visit Paphos.

The Aga who governed the district and commanded the soldiers was a fierce, brigandish sort of man, a perfect contrast to his brother of Limassol. He spoke with contempt of the Cypriot Greeks-a contempt approaching to disgust. He spat as he spoke of them. And he was the governor of a district containing perhaps a thousand or fifteen hundred of these much despised people!

The ruins of the ancient gardens of Baffa, together with its amphitheatre, are striking and remarkable.

Yet

this was but the seaport to the town proper. If the port then had its temples and its gardens, its amphitheatre, capable of containing more

than a thousand spectators, and its massive mole to protect the shipping in the harbour, what must the city have been to which it was but the outlet ?

Beneath the tower which occupies, as I have mentioned, a projecting cliff, there is a strange excavation, evidently artificial, for which we were at a loss to account. We needed no Edipus to tell us that it had been cut out before the Turkish occupation of the island; that was plain enough from its magnitude and importance. The question was, to what use was it ap plied by the ancient Greeks. The only probable answer to the question was, that it was intended as a refuge for a few ships before the mole was constructed, to defend them against the surf of the Levant when agitated by storms. The excavation is probably a hundred feet long by fifty or sixty in breadth, and descends to a considerable depth. It might have been partly natural in the first instance.

We had not much time to devote to the inspection of the neighbourhood of Paphos, for we had heard that an English vessel at Larnacca had almost finished her lading, and would, for a few days only, await us. Except the ruins of Baffa and the remains of Venetian sugar factories, however, there is little except wild natural beauty in the neighbourhood to detain the tourist.

We were determined, however, before our departure, to see the sponge fishery, which is here extensively carried on by Arab divers. For this purpose we hired a boat, and rowed out early one morning into the bay. Three Arab fishing boats were at the moment engaged in the search for sponges. Four divers were attached to each boat, whilst two seamen took care of it. They were courteous and friendly enough, looking forward to the invariable buksheesh of course on the termination of our inspection. Each diver, preparatory to descending, divested himself of his clothing, armed himself with a knife and a string, put his feet on a large stone attached to a rope, and was let down instantaneously into the water. The sea at this place might have been two or three fathoms deep. It was clear almost as crystal, and we could distinctly discern the divers moving about at the bottom in search of the

sponges. They found these attached to rocks or large stones, cut off the bunches or clusters with their knives, passed a string through them, and then rose to the surface. Sometimes, by a vigorous spring from the bottom, the diver would reach the surface in

an instant, in the immediate vicinity of the boat. When he happened to have a large quantity of the sponge, however, this could not be done. He then stepped on the stone, shook the rope, and was hauled up forthwith by the men in the boat, who were only awaiting the signal. Only one left each boat at a time, the four following each other of course in regular and rapid succession; so that, after each dive, there was an interval of about ten minutes before the same diver descended again.

It seemed to us that the labour of the two men left in the boat was far greater than that of the divers, for they were obliged constantly to be on the alert, and frequently to exert themselves considerably, in order to bring up the others rapidly. We observed that each diver had his own rope with the large stone attached. They did not all use the same. Doubtless, the weight of each bore some relation to that of each diver.

The noiseless, business-like way in which the whole matter proceeded was interesting and curious. Some of the divers threw themselves at full length at the bottom of the boat on emerging from the water, as if thoroughly exhausted, covering themselves with a thick piece of coarse blue cloth. Others threw the piece of cloth over their shoulders, and squatted, tailor-fashion, in the bows. Every five or ten minutes the position of the boat was altered by a few strokes of the oar, and that apparently without reference to the success or want of success of the divers. Sometimes, though rarely, three of them would descend in succession from the same boat and bring up nothing. On such occasions they usually sprang from the bottom without the assistance of the rope or of the men above. The fourth again would bring up a large bunch, partly sea-weed, partly shells, partly sponge. It was thrown into the stern with the rest, usually without a word. This silence surprised us, for the Arabs are of the noisiest when working on shore. We

boat to which we had selves.

Monotonous er suppose, such a been, and it was c

monotony, but it was int voice was h curious too. We watcheng, calling ta the diving ce The sea was perfectly smooth, a gentle swell pervaded th boat a heaving undulatin the minal The sea was not only calm the waters. but clear. We could see tes towards M small fish disporting at its bagaged in fer rily. Sometimes a diver were is somet into the very midst of suc in this so and then the bounding off nest outpou centre, the flutter and tional form the scampering terror of the izens of the deep were witness.

The divers usually remaine the surface from half a mi minute and a-half. Some of was said, could remain bel minutes; but we deprecated tempt to exhibit the feat anxious to see their usual not to have them torture th for our satisfaction. They once a p usually long-lived. Their me But it ca living is unnatural, and the gans will not stand with impu constant playing upon them. them pass their fortieth year ontinued of the habitual divers reach with n fiftieth. Such at least was mation we received on thei from those who ought to be w quainted with the facts.

th

t

on-suf

in

Breed to

The whole of the western c. Cyprus is an excellent fishingfor sponges, whilst, strange they are not to be found at all the eastern. It is not usually, ever, the finer descriptions whic found on the coasts of Cyprus. rather the coarser and the

valuable. From our inspecti the pieces brought up by the we should say that the nearer

-no

m. It is

dred, na re though

childish
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And ind
might be c

things, and lefy
; and th

me looked u ; his hear Poetry,

H

Soul on a to advan he sands of

undulating

is to be ser doubtless tr dicate the n to the in

the shor that Dia Cyprian future

Sociale

8&

finer. This, we were invariable rule, but it The case in all the spe

rs themselves speculate in ds. They divide equally the week's or the month's àg care of course to aselves with as skilful a bap as possible. The boatmen are oy them for the use of the boat dheir own attendance. We reattendance.

'th the fishing-boats ll day, in nd amused. When the muezzin's voice was heard, towas interwards the evening, calling the faithful watched to prayers, all the diving ceased. A perfectir an solemn silence pervaded the bay, as the voice from the minaret came booming over the waters. All prosramtrated themselves towards Mecca, and and see the st were at once engaged in fervent prayzat its bottes er. Surely there is something more than a vain form in this solemn prostration and earnest outpouring, periodically, of devotional formula. Why

ver was

5

of such a ling off as fre

and ag

r of the were cur

emained bed a minute Some of the

in below recated feat. L

isual prac

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They are

is it that all over the East man is ever so attached to his creed, so ready to put himself to any sacrifices in order to fulfil its requirements, whilst in the West religionseems to be rather a troublesome external, a thing of custom and convenience, not a heartfelt want and an inward conviction? Pondering much on this, we made our way silently to the shore, as the muezzin's voice still rang clearly from the minaret, proclaiming that there is no God but God, and that Mohammed is the prophet of God.

The next day, having previously sent our mules back to Larnacca we sailed in a Greek ship for Salina. The wind was propitious, the sea smooth, the voyage pleasant and prosperous. The English ship was ready for departure the day after our arrival. Our horses and mules were disposed of at the usual sacrifice ; buksheesh was plentifully administered amongst our servants, and we were soon on our way to old England, mourning over the desolation of Cyprus as we went.

"There was once a poet, who wrote But it came not.

ir method for fame.

the vital

impunity

Tear; reach the

"He toiled on-suffered-loved

married-grew in years-became em. Fe0or-was forced to work with his hands; but continued to write. "He met with no support-no -no praise. he sub laughed at him. It is no new thing,

s the ire encouragement

Men

e well - Poets a hundred, nay, a thousand

ears ago, were thought to be behind eir time, too childish for the day ey lived in,--and were treated cordingly. And indeed he was Aldish, as it might be called: he did

v silly things, and left many wise Bags undone; and though some 1 him, none looked up to him. this He wrote; his heart fainted, but prop wrote-poetry. He spread the tem of his soul on a dusty desert. they failed to advance the helpless rk over the sands of life.

VOL. XLVIII.NO. CCLXXXVII.

"He gave his genius over unto death.

"He hoped to be understood some other time; thought that to die might mitigate the rigor of a just censure, and bring asperity softened to his grave. But even a grave was grudgingly afforded him. A few sods were cut, laid over the mound his body had presumed to raise in the churchyardand trodden down.

"His family had loved him, and wished to think his merit great. But with his family his name ceased. His son had no son; or, if he had, he was down among the poor, and lost sight of.

"Times went by. Revolutions uprooted empires-and did more: they shook the minds of men. New systems and new sentiments arose with new races. There was a feeling for and with genius.

LL