indisputably a singular position which England and France hold in this contest. A few hundred years ago, Christendom resisted with desperation on these very boundaries the invasion of the Turk, and it is strange to see the leading powers of Christendom crossing the very same line in these days to fight under the banner of the Crescent, and mingle the knightly symbols, whose fame has been dearly won in the battles of the faith, with the ensigns of the unbeliever. Well, letting alone the balance of power and such imperial considerations, show us the Englishman who will stand by and see the poor heathen Hindoo, whose pathetic silence craves alms upon our streets, fall into the hands of some big Saxon bully, without lifting hand or voice for the rescue of the weak, and we will say that such a man, but no other, has a right to stigmatise this crusade of right against might, and condemn the Christian nation for defence of the Infidel. But for our ally, with his magnificent indifference, his passive fatalism, his misgovernment, and all his sins, let us be thankful that we do not need to adopt his faults when we vindicate his right-rather that our vindication of his rights, our association with himself, our help and brotherliness, are better modes of vanquishing the Oriental, who has proved his mettle in these days, than a new crusade, such as M. Van de Velde longs for, to restore to the Hebrews their old inheritance. With God, and not with us, does it remain to decide when the Jew is ready for his new existence-when the time of prophecy shall be accomplished, and that revolution begun which is to call out of all lands and places the wandering nation, the great pilgrim of centuries, and bring Israel home. It is not easy to realise the possibility of such an event, and there is no wonder in all past history equal to what this will be but the work is manifestly out of man's hands. At this moment, find him where you will, the qualities for which the Jew is distinguished are not those which win the respect or admiration of his neighbours-he is barren and desolate like his country, and has no beauty in him. Harsh sounds and unmelodious-at the best, a wail of blind inquiry, and long suspense-are all the harp of Judah is capable of now; and till the hand of the Divine musician touch the strings, it is a vain hope that any human finger can wake them to the measure of David or of Solomon, the lofty strains of old. One thing these modern times, with all their fairy works of science and mighty rush of “ progress," ought to do for both Mahommedan and Jewto convince them that there is but one faith, which never becomes obsoleteone religion, which, all independent of climate or temperature, is from God, and embraces all mankindwhich is abashed by no discovery, and thrown into the shade by no improvement. The creed of Mahomet is antiquated, and in its dotage. To live a Jew in these days is to live among the tombs. Paganism is dead and gone long centuries ago. Only Christianity, in its sublime unfailing youth, is never out of date, but works as handily with the instruments of today as with those of a thousand years ago, and, knowing neither culmination nor decadence, is perpetually the same. He But to M. Van de Velde, the charm of attraction which binds the devout mind to the children of Abraham, the chosen people, is very strong. cannot sufficiently execrate the Turkish occupancy, which gives this historic country to the race of all others most indifferent to its holiest memories, and when he sees the soil itself indicating, by many evidences, its inherent riches, yet lying scorched and barren under the eye of heaven-when he sees a government which discourages every exertion, a people who have no heart to make any, conscious, as he says, of the usurpation of these lands, which are not their own-our fervent pilgrim burns with natural impatience to accelerate the slow course of events, and can scarcely bring himself to tolerate the support given to this "Empire of Turkey," which he apostrophises, with all its tyranny at home and impotence abroad. Far better service, as he thinks, these same victorious European arms would render, if they expelled the Crescent from Palestine, and established the Hebrew in his immemorial fatherland; but it is a hard thing for a man to set about accomplishing prophecy-the work is above his hand. M. Van de Velde mentions, however, almost with enthusiasm, the enterprise of a small American colony which, established at Bethlehem, professed an intention to prepare the soil, to "break up the fallow-ground," in preparation for the return of the banished Israelites. The idea gratifies his eager mind; but the colonists, after all, turn out but indifferently, and the enterprise is found to fail. The present questio vexata of these sacred localities occupies some space in the journals of M. Van de Velde. This controversy, originating in the real or alleged discoveries of M. de Sauley, calls up one of the most remote and mysterious events ever brought under human discussion-the destruction of the cities of the plain, Sodom, Gomorrah, Admah, and Zeboim. The original idea, touching these guilty objects of the Divine wrath, wrapt in awe and mystery as their fate was, seems to have been, that the Dead Sea, itself the gloomiest and most appalling object in creation, had been called into existence by the same miracle which annihilated the condemned cities, and that its deadly waters swept every trace of them out of sight for ever. But modern travel has taken from the Dead Sea much of its mysterious desolation; it is found that sweet fountains spring, and luxuriant vegetation flourishes, within sight of its waters, and that itself bears no evident trace of its deadly qualities, but appears, as one and another of its visitors say, only a "splendid lake," an inland sea, mirroring clear skies and picturesque mountains, sublime, but not terrible. Traces of the most frightful convulsions of nature surround it on every side; extinct volcanoes and tremendous chasms, mountains dislocated and shattered in pieces, and tracts of unparalleled desolation; but still it is impossible to regard the lake itself as the fatal object which former ideas held it to be. As the subject clears from the superstitious veneration of less informed times, a new theory is propounded. Near the end of the present Dead Sea, a peninsula strikes into the water, almost cutting off into On the other hand, M. de Saulcy and to be perfectly convinced of their authenticity? Limestone rocks, corrugated and channelled by winter torrents, and worn into the resemblance of layers of building, explains M. Van de Velde-stupendous ruins, veritable remains of the cities of the Pentapolis, says his adversary: both produce battalions of testimonywhich is right? In real locality, we apprehend, the controversy makes little difference, since both sides of the question mutually agree in choosing this southern end of the Asphaltic Lake for the position of the destroyed cities. M. De Saulcy places Zoar on the western side; Dr Robinson and M. Van de Velde, and all preceding travellers, settle its position on the eastern coast, upon the peninsula. The Frenchman finds his tangible memorials of Sodom, and the wonderful event which destroyed it, his large burned stones, and destroyed buildings, recognised by Arab tradition, on the still remain ing soil; the American and the Netherlander cover these awful remnants of Almighty vengeance with the bitter waters wherein no life can be. The former proposition may admit of proof palpable to the senses, since "stupendous ruins" are not things to be ignored by an honest examination; but the waters of the lake, if they contain it, will not open to disclose their secret ;-so all the advantages of proof are on M. de Saulcy's side. As it is, however, the question does not seem to us a question for ordinary discussion, but simply one of comparative credibility of testimony-are there ruins, or are there not? Has there been glamour in M. de Saulcy's eyes, or has obstinate scepticism obscured the vision of M. Van de Velde? The question is not one on which we are prepared to give a judgment. Our impetuous Gallic champion stands alone, defying the civilised Bedouin Criticism, as he defied the Ishmael of the desert; but an army of heavy artillery fights on the side espoused by M. Van de Velde. What shall we say?in prospect of a magnificent duel pending between the head of the one party and the sole and indivisible representative of the other, only that our present author boldly throws himself into the discussion, flings his glove manfully in the face of the Frenchman, denies his premises, scouts his conclusions, and is thoroughly convinced in his own mind that not a vestige remains above ground of the submerged cities of the plain. M. Van de Velde, who travels economically, without thinking it necessary to secure the attendance of sheikhs of half a dozen tribes, seems to meet with a very much less degree of annoyance and obstruction than is common to travellers in Palestine. We cannot fail to observe, in the midst of many complaints of the rapacity and perpetual exactions imposed by the tribes of the desert upon wandering pilgrims, that every traveller has at least one faithful Arab, who, if not entirely superior to baksheesh, does yet deport himself with exemplary conscientiousness, and gain the entire confidence and friendship of the party he conducts. A good omen this, for a race so completely beyond the rules of ordinary law. There are some cases, too, where, cast almost upon their charity, sick, exhausted, and undefended, with no greater retinue than two unwarlike servants and one Bedouin guide, M. Van de Velde meets with unexpected kindness and hospitality from these children of Ishmael, and in his experience the Bedouins seem to contrast rather favourably with the resident villagers through whose domains his former course had been. Notwithstanding, though the unobtrusive traveller, who trusts himself without a guard among them, may meet with less annoyance than the richly-equipped expedition, prodigal of piastres, one does not see how controversies, historical or geographical, touching this mysterious territory, can ever be rightly determined so long as the investigators are compelled to hurry from point to point, and are kept in terror of the least divergence from their projected course, lest an enemy pounce upon them in the wilds where no help is. A railway to the shores of the Dead Sea is scarcely to be feared or hoped for these few centuries, but there surely might be an expeditionary band, strong enough to disregard the wild inhabitants of this land, which piques and tantalises with imperfect revelations the curiosity of science. An expedition which should dare to take time, which should venture into deliberate and careful examinations, and which was sufficiently strong to overawe the lawless lords of the soil, might do much to settle the jars of opinion, and reveal to the general knowledge this terrible country, scarred and marked for ages by the chastising hand of God. A minor difficulty in the way of reconciling one traveller's experience with another's, is the perpetual variation of proper names. Taken down as these must be from the guide of the moment, it is easy to account for the orthographical vicissitudes through which they pass; but it were surely well even to sacrifice a point and take our predecessor's spelling instead of our own, rather than throw this mist of perplexity over the whole scene. Many a learned puzzle has come out of this peculiarity in the sacred records themselves, the shifting of names, and subtracting of syllables; and we are like, as it seems, to find the same difficulty continuing with us. But it is not necessary, surely, that every new traveller should set up an orthography of his own with submission, it appears to us that accuracy of place is of much more importance than originality of name, and that he is to be the most commended who enables you at once, and without perplexity, to recognise the spot where, in his predecessor's company, you have been before. In taking leave of these pleasant volumes, we cannot help regretting once more that the sketches to which such frequent reference is made are not added to the text. Lieut. Van de Velde's friend to whom his book is addressed, seems to have rather an unfair advantage over the public in this respect; and without detracting anything from the value of the penand-ink sketches, which are admirable of their kind, it is impossible not to feel a degree of injury, or to resist being provoked and tantalised by such a sentence as this "If my short description of the vale of Shechem, with its mountains of Blessing and Curse, can in any way elucidate to you the narratives of Scripture, I shall be very glad. I hope my sketch will come in aid of my pen." And why, then, does not the sketch come in aid of the pen? The worshipful public who read his book claims to be the dearest of dear friends to an author, and suffers no such successful rivalry of its pretensions. We trust to see M. Van de Velde rectify this mistake in his second edition. A very animated book, full of life and motion, atmosphere and reality, he has added to our store-a good book, which the best of us may read "of Sundays," but which the gayest of us will not find too dry for every-day; and we will be glad to see Lieut. Van de Velde complete, by the addition of his sketches, so worthy a contribution to the little library of science, speculation, and adventure, which treats of the Holy Land. BELLEROPHON. A CLASSICAL BALLAD. « Ος τᾶς ὀφίωδεος υιόν ποτε Γόργονας Πρίν γέ οι χρυσάμπυκα κουρα χαλινὸν “ Αλλ ὅτε δὴ καὶ κεινος απήχθετο πᾶσι θεοῖσιν ἤτοι ὁ κὰπ πεδίον τὸ Αλήιον οἶος ἀλατο ὅν θυμὸν κατέδων πάτον ἀνθρώπων ἀλεείνων.”—HOMER. [The beautiful Corinthian legend of Bellerophon is narrated by Homer in the well-known episode of Glaucus and Diomede, in the sixth book of the Iliad. In that episode the strong-lunged son of Tydeus meets in the fight a face that was new to him, and before engaging in battle desires to know the name of his noble adversary. The courteous request is courteously complied with; and it appears that Glaucus-for such is the champion's name, though now serving in Priam's army as a Lycian auxiliary-was by descent a Grecian, the grandson of the famous Bellerophon of Corinth, between whose family and that of Diomede a sacred bond of hospitality had existed. This discovery leads to an interchange of friendly tokens between the intending combatants; the weapons of war are sheathed, and a bright gleam of human kindness is thrown across the dark tempestuous cloud of international conflict. The story of Bellerophon, as told in this passage of the most ancient Greek poet, is a remarkable instance of how popular legend, proceeding from the germ of some famous and striking fact, is gradually worked up into a form where the actual is altogether subordinated to the miraculous. In Homer there is not a single word said of the winged horse, which is the constant companion of Bellerophon's exploits, in the current form of the legend afterwards revived, and which appears regularly on the coins of Corinth. The reason, also, of the hero's fall, from the loftiest prosperity to the saddest humiliation, is only dimly indicated by the poet, when he says that Bellerophon, towards the close of his life, "was hated by all the gods," and, "avoiding the path of men, ate his own heart" (öv Zvμòv katédwv); but whether it was that Homer, knowing the sin of Bellerophon, with a delicate sense of propriety, refused to set it forth distinctly in the mouth of his grandson, or whether the simplicity of the oldest form of the legend knew nothing more than what Homer tells, certain it is that the ever-active Greek imagination could not content itself with the obscurity of the Homeric indication, and the moral that "pride must have fall" was distinctly brought out in the later form of the myth. For the rest, the writer has taken the topographical notices in the following verses, not from his own conceit, but from the authority of Pausanias in his Corinthian antiquities. It needs scarcely be added that the legend of Bellerophon-in ancient times equally the property of Corinth in Europe, and Lycia in Asia-has now become in a peculiar manner the possession of Great Britain by the labours of Sir Charles Fellowes, and the Xanthian Chamber of the British Museum.] I. THE sun shines bright on Ephyré's height,* Poseidon rules the sea; * The old name for Corinth. The famous rock of the Acropolis is 1800 feet high, and is a most prominent object from Athens, and all the open country to the east. |