PALESTINE ^AYNE S. VUCINICH Y . Gfisa uwAitr UMVOSITY OF CAUFORNIA. SAM BWO >— ^ O U X>UA, CAUfOKNIA J «— ' c >5yr J. u -fj I ST II M !N P/'MST^^' T?' B f lEMRY ^fElBIN'Go B.B.F.Ro^ Iic«itoit3|^ «rittti]g; tukm 0111 tl^^ 3p0t^ THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE; SCENES OF SACRED HISTORY, S^i'gtoncal ant ©rsfcriptibt. BY HENRY STEBBING, D. D., F. R. S. ILLUSTRATED FROM SKETCHES TAKEN' ON THE SPOT, BY W. H. BARTLETT. LONDON :— GEORGE VIRTUE. LONDON: JOSEPH RICKEREY, PRINTSB, SHBR&OURN LANE. PREFACE. The writer of the present work has been anxious to give such an account of the most interesting portions of Palestine, as may serve to illustrate both the historical and present character of the country. As authorities for the descriptions of the places spoken of, he has carefully examined the works of the most distinguished travellers, foreign as well as English. It has been his wish to show in what spirit these different writers have contemplated the objects which they describe, and thus to enable the reader to find the most natural channel for his thoughts, or the best aid for his associations. In connexion with these topographical accounts, the writer has in- troduced some historical details; and he has ventured, from time to time, to express the feelings which the subject, so full of what is great, wonderful, and pathetic, excited in his mind. It will afford him no ordinary satisfaction, if the work should prove interesting to the Chris- tian reader ; and, still more, if it should be found useful in impressing upon any one, a stronger sense of the reaUties with which his religion has ever been connected ; and will be, as by a natural bond, through all remaining times. iv PREFACE. It need scarcely be added, that the pictorial illustrations of this volume may be regarded as faithfully descriptive of the scenes which they repre- sent. Mr. Bartlett's reputation is too well established to render this praise necessary. He is an experienced and intelligent traveller, as well as an accomplished artist. The tone and feeling which characterize his drawings, are in harmony with the spirit of the best writers on the Holy Land. They have, therefore, a higher value than that derived from any ordinary artistic merit, and deserve a corresponding attention. In some few instances, no materials could be found for any correct literary account of the scenes depicted. The author has considered it Ijetter, in these cases, to trust to the fidelity of the artist, than to give a description little better than imaginary. But in respect to the illus- trations generally, he has endeavoured to treat of the subjects to which they refer, not as subordinate to the plates, but in their larger and more historical aspect. It is not often necessary to tell the reader what is already told him by a skilful engraving. The author hopes, therefore, that by following the suggestions of the artist, without confining himself to them, he may have brought into more distinct relief some of the most impoi'tant fiicts connected with the destinies of Palestine. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. — Early Intercourse of Cliristians with the Holy Laud .... 1 II. — The Road to Jerusalem — From Tripoli to Acre ... 25 III.— From Acre to Nazareth, and Cana of Galilee . . . . .40 IV. — From Nazareth to Tiberias ...... 56 V. — From Tiberias to Julias Bethsaida . . . . . 83 VI. — From the Lake of Tiberias to Samaria .... 108 VII. — From Samaria to Jerusalem ... . . . . . 121 VIII.— Jerusalem— The Holy Sepulchre ...... 128 IX. — Via Captivitatis — Gethsemane — Mount of Olives — Via Dolorosa . . 143 X. — Mount Zion and Mount Moriah — Acre and Bezetlia . . . 151 XI. — Places of Note round Jerusalem . . . . . .164 XII. — Jericho and the Dead Sea ...... 174 XIII.^Hebron and its Environs ....... 186 XIV.— From Hebron to Petra ....... 194 XV. — Mount Sinai and the surrounding Region ..... 209 XVI.— Conclusion : Cesarseai— Rhodes— Athens— Rome .... 230 LIST OF PLATES. To face Page Vignette— Scene near Ramla Map of Palestine 1 Shrine of the Nativity, Bethlehem . 8 Well near Emmaus 4 Interior of the House of a Christian Family 24 SiDON AND Mount Lebanon, from the Sea 30 Sarepta and the Coast of Sidon . . . 32 Mount Carmel 41 Vale of Nazareth 44 Well of the Virgin 46 Well at Nazareth 46 Nazareth, looking towards the Plain of esdraelon 49 Mount Tabor, looking towards Gilboa AND THE Jordan 60 Nain 65 Plain of Esdraelon, from Jenin . 68 Jezeeel, Mount Gilboa, and Beth-shan . 70 Arab Camp, near Mount Tabor . . 72 Tiberias 74 Baths and City of Tiberias . . . 80 The Lake of Tiberias 88 Mount Hermon, Upper Valley of the Jordan 90 Lake of Tiberias, from the Castle of Saphet 92 Valley of Sichem and Nablous . . . 95 Samaritans showing the Book of the Law 107 Colonnade at Seeaste, Samaria . . . 110 The Hill of Samaria 116 Jacob's Well at Sychar 119 Mount Gehizim and the Vale of Nablous 121 Wells AND Remains of the Pool at Bethel 122 Seilun, Site of Shiloh .... 123 Church at Shiloh 123 Gibeah, from Michmash .... 124 Ramleh, with the Hills of Judea . 124 Gibeah, from Neby Samwil. . 124 Anata, (Anathoth,) Hill Country, Judea 124 Modern Jerusalem {double plate) . . . 126 Church of the Holy Sepulchre . 131 Cavern where the Holy Cross was found 139 Pool of Hezekiah, Jerusalem . . .144 To face Pai/e The Garden of Gethsemane . . . 144 Tombs in the Valley of Jehoshaphat . 14.5 Tomb of the Virgin, Jerusalem . . . 14.5 Jews' Place op Wailing .... 145 Pool of Siloam 146 Mount of Olives, from the Wall . 146 The Mount of Olives and Jerusalem, N.E. 146 Lower Pool of Gihon 147 Arch in the Via Dolorosa . . . . 149 Mount Zion, from the Hill op Evil Coun- sel 151 Roman and Medi.£val Masonry, Jerusalem 151 rA(;ADE OF the Tombs of the Kings, Jeru- salem 153 Tower of Hippicus 153 Enclosure of the Haram, Jerusalem . 154 The Golden Gate, Jerusalem . . . 159 Rachel's Tomb 164 Bethlehem 165 Greek Church, at Bethlehem . . 166 Basilica, at Bethlehem 166 Etham, near Bethlehem .... 168 Fields of Bethany 169 Solomon's Pools, near Bethlehem . . 170 Zekoa and the Herodian . . . . 171 Plain of Jericho, looking towards Moab 175 Greek Bathing-Place, near Jordan . 178 Halt above the North End of the Dead Sea 180 Convent of Santa Saba . . . .183 Hebron 186 Pool at Hebron 189 Haram at Hebron 190 Ancient Masonry, near Hebron . 193 Plan of Petra 194 Plain Er-Rahah, Mount Sinai . . . 209 Suez, from the Mounds of the Ancient Canal 228 Fair at Khan et Tujjar .... 230 Cesar.sa 230 Harbour of Rhodes 231 Sanur 231 Mars Hill, at Athens .... 232 The Parthenon, at Athens . . . 232 Rome from the Capitol .... 234 KEY TO THE VIEW OF MODERN JERUSALEM. 1. JAFFA ROAD.— Enters the city by the Jaffa Gate, which is concealed behind the Tower of Hippicus. Tliis is the road by which pilgrims and travellers usually arrive from the coast. 2. UPI'ER POOL OF GIHON.— A square pool, probably of high antiquity; around it are the tombs of the Turkish cemetery, one of which is conspicuous in the view. 3. PLAIN OF REPIIAISI.— The Bethlehem road crosses this plain, of which a portion only is seen ; it enters the city by the Jaffa Gate. 4. LOWER POOL OF GIHON, (scarcely visible from this point, as it lies rather higher up the valley of Hinnom.) — A large pool, of great antiquity, of which only the edge can be seen from this point ; along the side of it passes the aqueduct from Bethlehem, which is conducted into the Temple area. 5. HILL OF EVIL COUNSEL.— A bold height opposite Mount Zion. On its summit are some obscure ruins, and in its sides, above the valley, are numerous tombs. fi. VALLEY OF IITNNOM.— This valley, rising in the high land near the Jaffa Gate, defends the south-west side of Mount Zion. 7. TOMBS AND "ACELDAMA."— These tombs, which are very numerous, are cut in the rocky side of the bill, and are of various antiquity. The supposed site of the "Aceldama " is occupied by the arched building, formerly a receptacle for dead bodies. H. EN ROGEL. — A deep well, supjiosed to be identical with En Rogel, in the centre of a fertile tract, at the junction of the valleys of Hinnom and Jehoshaphat, formerly called the King's Gardens, and irrigated from the Pool of Siloam above. 'J. POOL OF SILOAM.— Was .-it the mouth of the Valley of the Tyropeon ; according to Josephus, the present is identical in position ; only the edge can be seen from this point. The water is brought from the Pool of the Virgin by a sub- terraneous pa.ssage cut tlirough the Hill of Oplicl. (t^ee 2!».) Just below is a remarkable tree, the traditional place uf martyrdom of the prophet Isaiah. 10. TOMB OF DAVID.— Mosque, originally a Christian church; and Armenian convent ; the former contaiuing the tradi- tional tomb, not shown to Christians or Jews. Near at hand is the Protestant Cemetery. 11. ZION GATE.— The only gate between the Jaffa Gate and that of St. Stephen ; within are the habitations of the lepers. 12. ARMENIAN CONVENT.— Occupies the level-part of Mount Zion : the church of St. James, belonging to it, of which the dome is seen, is very handsome, the buildings of the Convent extensive, and the gardens delightful. 13. JEWISH QUARTER.— Extends over the slope of Mount Zion, from the Armenian Convent to the Temple, with which it formerly comnnmicated by a bridge, of which a portion (not seen) still exists on the temple side. U. CITADEL (TOWER OF IIIPPICUS) NEAR THE JAFFA GATE. — The citadel, jirincipally of the middle ages, is defended on the side of the Valley of Hinnom by a fosse, not seen. The large square tower is the llippicm of Jose- phus, a very important starting-point in its topography. 15. ENGLISH CHURCH— The foundation of the English Epis- copal Church on Mount Zion is near the Tower of Hippicus. CHURCH OF THE HOLY SEPULCHRE AND GREEK CONVENT. — The centre dome is erected over the supposed sepulchre, the identity of which is, however, disputed ; it was without the second wall of the Ancient City. The church is extensive. The convent of the Greek monks adjoins it. LATIN CON VENT.— The usual stopping place of travellers in Jerusalem. DAMASCUS GATE.— A Saracenic structure. TOMBS OF THE KINGS. — The Damascus road passes near the Tombs of the Kings, (so called,) but more proliubly the tomb of Helena, Queen of /^diabene. They are excavated in the rock ; the position of the snuftre court only is been in the view. 16 17. 18. 19. KEY TO THE VIEW OF MODERN JERUSALEM. ■20. TURKISU .MOSQUE IN BKZETIIA.— This quarter of the citv is principally occupied by the Turks, and is tliinly inhabited. :.'l. CHUKC'M OF ST. ANNE. — A Gothic Iniilding of the time of the Crusades, now converted into a mosque. 22. GATE OF ST. STEPHEN.— So called from the tradition that St. Stephen was stoned just without it. This is the gate by which the road from B.'thany and Jericho enters the city ; immediately below is the Garden of Gethsemane. (See 33.) 23. GOLDEN GATE — A magnificent gate of Roman architectui'e, either of Herod's Temple or Adrian's Fortress ; now closed up, but the interior is perfect. 24. GOVERNOR'S HOUSE, (FORT ANTONIA.)— This building stands on a rock, unquestionably the site of Fort Antonia. There is a fine view of the courts of the Temple from its roof. 2.i. MOSQUE OF OMAR. — A maguificeut Saracenic structure, occupying the site of the Temple of Solomon. It stands on a raised platform of marble, approached tlirough the gates seen in the view. The vast enclosui-e arotinci it is interdicted to Christians. 26 MOSQUE OF EL AKSA. — Another extensive Mosque, perhaps originally a Christian Basilica, standing at the south ex- tremity of the enclosure ; beneath it is an ancient gate, now closed, of the same date as the " Golden," leading up into it. 27. REMARKABLE JEWISH MASONRY.— The large stones, forming part of the ancient Temple wall, are very conspicuous at this point ; the masonry of the upper part of the wall is much smaller and of later date. Within are the vaults, supporting this part of the Temple area. 28. OPHEL. — The site of this quarter of the Ancient City is now covered with olives. 29. FOUNTAIN OF THE VIRGIN.— An ancient fountain, com- municating with that of Siloam by a subterraneous passage cut in the rock. 30. VILLAGE OF SIL0 4M.— A miserable village built among the tombs, overhanging the Valley of Jehoshaphat ; only the top of its 'ouildings can be seen. 31. VALLEY OF JEIIOSH.APHAT, JEWISH CEMETERY.— The Valley of Jehoshaphat, or of the brook Kidron, merely a dry water-course, rises in the high land near the Tombs of the Kings, slopes round all the north-east side of Jerusa- lem, aud unites with that of Ilinnom at En Rogel. Th? portion under the Temple wall, on the opposite side, is occupied by the Jewish Cemetery, of which the flat tombs appear. 32. TOMB OF ABSALOM.— This tomb, and others near it, hewn in the rock facing the temple, constitute the most remarkable groiiji about the city. They are of Grseco-Egyptian archi- tecture. 33. GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE AND TOMB OF THE VIRGIN. — A group of very old olive-trees, traditionally so called ; behind them is the subterraneous Chapel of the Tomb of the Virgin. 34. MOUNT OF OLIVES.— The .Mount of Olives overlooks Jeru- salem on the east, being one hundred and seventy-five feet higher than Mount Zion. It is still scattered over with olive-trees, and there are pathways across to Bethany, whence Christ entered into Jerusalem. On the summit is tlie Church of the Ascension. 35. CHAPEL OF THE PREDICTION.— A smaU chapel on tlie Moimt of Olives, the traditional site of Christ's prediction of the ruin of Jerusalem. 36. CAMEL- ROAD FROM BETHANY AND JERICHO.— This crosses the lower part of the Mount of Olives, and enters the city by St. Stephen's Gate. A caravan is here passing. 37. ROAD TO ANATA.— Near the summit of the hiU on this road is the finest view of the city. 38. NEBI SAilWIL.— .\ remarkable hill about four miles from the city, supposed, by Dr. Robinson, to be the ancient Mizpeh. 39. HILL OF OFFENCE.— This is, in fact, a portion of the range of the Mount of Olives ; so called because the traditional site of Solomon's worship of Ashtaroth. 40. GROUP OF ARABS. PALE n TI NE pjvR'j ©*- s■a[^RIA. SaaU tir trayn^^tmi JlSW J7| -^ \fflwyrf ^^^ ''A/Amaf' J ^^nw' (&13 '<' .TcJ Biti^ii. StU*? I Juirnfl fut.h4if A'.u- (V A^«. K. en XikAAftUi i^sji'ijut -i#S r/JCuive^L'^ '//(/I ft M^ * ' ■ %vA?Pii Maare^ .Sjt\''' ~^' .v. X*,-l. ^ zh^ir ^^?«^- /w - Surtf^em llitbmi } I ■/iiiuti-ii'r >'"! ^5^ - -lE^^ViJ, ^. ^«/.- Jttaea'i' ^ P'""!-!", !!„„„■. -inilj', i/ >^,rtu.)"|:'-*^"''.' J„„„,l-V*'^~-S: IrA-i,/ ^*». \- 'ijTl-- ■»Hi-ln-oii(.\B>iilil).'( ■J / A'jMi^\ to fa/irgfl^ ENCLOSURE OF THE TEMPLE f.i'tuiilti,!- f.',i.}-t itf f^nt^nviHt /trUHTi J- Knvn-ml ^l/ ».' /fnvAnr, tt. hiv-lf St Htillu-in L.m,l,„ THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. EARLY INTEKCODESE OF CHRISTIANS WITH THE HOLY LAND. But few generations have passed, since the time when Palestine was known only to the most adventurous and enthusiastic of travellers. Even pilgrims and devout warriors encountered with a feeling of awe the perils of the way by which they were to reach its shores. The seas and deserts which separated it from the rest of the world, seemed impassable to other men. When the spirit which animated the leaders of the first Crusade seized upon the popular mind, unnumbered multi- tudes were seen thronging the highways of France and Italy, ready to precipitate themselves upon the provinces of the East. Never had au expedition been begun more fatal to the greater part of those by whom it was attempted. Thousands of the trembling devotees, who had hoped to reach tlie holy sepulchre, perished on the way. New terrors were thus added to those with which the journey to Palestine had been contemplated by the generality of men ; nor was it till after the Crusaders had formed a temporary establishment in the country, that the species of supernatural awe, which was mingled with the feeling of its sanctity, began to diminish, and to leave the mind firee to estimate aright the real difficulties and dangers of a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. It was at a very early period aStei the establishment of the gospel, that the more fen'ent and courageous of Christians adopted the practice of seeking the banks of the Jordan, and the sacred spots of Bethlehem and Calvarj', in the hope of still fur- ther quickening their faith in evangelical tradition. The Emperor Constantine, soon after his conversion, turned his attention to the state of Jerusalem. It was with peculiar interest that he listened to the accounts given him of the sufferings and triumphs of the Saviour. The scenes amid which they had occurred became sacred to his imagination. His mother, Helena, was still more afiected by the recitals of those who had lately xisited Palestine. Constantine, accordingly, directed that means should be employed to clear the spot in which the blessed Jesus had been buiied, and to prepare materials for the erection of a church, which might be worthy of Christian admiration. It is but right, he said in his letter to Macarius, B 2 THK CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. the bishop, that that place which is nobler than all other places in the world, should be adorned with a magnificence proper to its gloiy. The aged Helena beheld the piety, as she had the fortunes of her son, with pro- found gratitude to God. She was anxious to prove her thankfulness in the sight of the world, and to set an example, according to the spirit of the age, of zeal and devotion. Disregarding, therefore, the weight and infirmities of her years, she re- solved on visiting the holy places of Palestine herself, and on inspecting the spots where she might raise the most useful and durable monuments to the honour of her Saviour. Her journey was marked by numberless acts of true Christian charity. Wherever she passed the poor were provided for by her bounty : the hungry were fed, the naked clothed. Many who had been unjustly cast into prison were set fi-ee. Others were taken fi-om the mines ; and several, who had been sent into exile, were restored to their homes. On her arrival in Palestine, she hastened to the neighbour- hood of Jerusalem ; and as the Holy Sepulchre was already adorned witli the noble edifice built by Constantino's command, so she directed that the spots pointed out by tradition as those of our Lord's birth and ascension, should be surmounted by similar structures. Helena's pilgrimage afforded an example of devotion, which obtained many fol- lowers. It soon began to be regarded as a proper sign of affection to the Saviour to seek the land which had witnessed his wonderful works : to show reverence for his birthplace, by praying at the shrine which now occupied the place of the manger: to prove the gratitude felt for redemption, by shedding the bitterest tears of repent ■ ance in the gloom of Gethsemane, or on the summit of Calvaiy. Whether such a feeling was the fruit of earnest piety, or of an unhealthy enthu- siasm, we stop not to inquire. But it was the sentiment of the times ; and it led to many an exhibition of intense devotion, which it would be melancholy to think of, as wanting altogether in spiritual life. Among the earliest of those who thus sought the Holy Land, was the celebrated St. Jerome. His love of learning, and powers of observation, rendered his pilgrimage one of great value to religion in general. He became acquainted, during his long residence in the country, with many particulars, which he afterwards applied to the illustration of the divine word ; nor is it improbable that, though in far inferior degrees, other devout and observant Christians gathered information in their pil- grimage, which contributed, in various ways, to the instruction of their brethren. St. Jerome had suffered at Rome much distress firom the persecution of rivals and enemies. He resolved to seek among the sacred scenes of Palestine relief to his vexed and agitated mind. On his first arrival in Syria, he began to doubt whether even there he could find the repose which he so anxiously sought. Controversies and disputes of every kind prevailed among the several parties into which the Christians of that produce were now unhappily divided. His own personal state also greatly disturbed him. He felt less spiritual, less uneaithly, than in earlier ^ \Ji TUE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. 3 times. Influenced by tliese circumstances, he sought a remote solitude ; and con- tinued to pray and weep till his improved strength of mind and S]5irit encouraged him to return to Jerusalem. There he conversed with the pious Cyril, bishop of the see ; and from him he obtained permission to found a monastery at Bethlehem, in order that, speaking according to the figurative language of the times, when Joseph and Mary came to Bethlehem they might not want an inn to receive them. The monasterj'^ thus built became the resort of numerous devout men ; and so favourable did Jerome feel the influence of the place, and its smrounding scenes to his own growth in piety, that he anxiously desired the most beloved of his friends to leave Rome, and take up their abode in the Holy Land. " Will that day never come," he says, " when we may ^'isit the sepulchre of the Saviour, and weep there together r And then approach the cross, and on the Mount of Olives ascend in mind and thought with the ascending Lord ? When we may see Lazanis come forth bound with the giave-cloths, and the waters of Jordan purified by the baptism of Jesus ? When we may go to the folds of the shepherds, and pray in the tomb of David, and listen to the prophet Amos, making the hills resound with the notes of his pastoral horn ? When we may visit the tents of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob ; and see the fountain in which Philip baptized the Eunuch; and journey to Samaria, and medi- tate amid the ashes of John the Baptist, of Elijah, and Obadiah ? And enter the cave in which the prophets were preserved and nourished in the time of persecution and famine ? Yes ! and we will go to Nazareth, and, according to the meaning of its name, we will see the flower of Galilee. Not far from thence is Cana, in which the water was turned into wine. And we will wander to Mount Tabor, and to the taber- nacle of the Saviour, beholding him, not as Peter, with Moses and Elias, but with the Father and the Holy Spirit. Thence we can journey to Genesareth, and con- template the five and the four thousand men fed with the five and the seven loaves in the desert. And the gate of Nain will rise to our view, where the widow's son was restored to life : and Hermon will excite us to reflection, and the stream of Endor, where Sisera was overcome. Capernaum, so familiar with the miracles of the Lord, and all Galilee, shall be visited. And then, Christ accompanjdng us, we will return by Siloam and Bethel to our cave, and will sing, and weep, and pray together; continually exclaiming, with the spouse in the Canticles, ' I found him whom my soul sought : I will hold him, and will not let him go.' " Such were the feelings with which St. Jerome beheld the scenes rendered sacred to faith, and holy thought, by the workings of divine Providence, and the j)resence of the Saviour of mankind. Not long after the letter above alluded to was wiitten, Paula, a rich and noble lady, overwhelmed with grief at the loss of her husband, adopted St. Jerome's counsel, and set sail for Palestine. The account given of her jouniey aflbrds an interesting proof of the patience and courage necessary for such an undertaking at the beginning of the fifth century. But every island, city, or pro- vince by which the pilgrim passed, brought to recollection the suflerings or triumphs 4 THE CHRISTIAN I\ PALESTINE. of some venerable ■n-itness to the power of tlie gospel. Thus the length of way was almost disregarded ; and the intention of the traveller to visit the Holy Land was sufficient of itself to secure him the sympathy and hospitality of all tnie Christians. So greatly was this the case, that to provide for the pilgrim's entertainment soon became recognized as one of the works of piety deserving the highest esteem. In obedience to this sentiment, buildings were attached to chiurches, in which especial provision was made for the reception of pilgrims. A deacon also was appointed to see to their entertainment ; and where all this could not be done, a straw pallet, and bread and water, the simple fare which foimed the wanderer's usual repast, were prepared for him against niglitfall, in many a solitary hovel by the wayside. The route taken by pilgrims in those days is cleai-ly pointed out in the account given of Paula's progress from Italy to Palestine. On her anival in that countrj-, she proceeded from Berytus and Sidon to Sarepta: thence on to Tyre, and to Ptolemais, or Acre. Passing through the fields of Megiddo, " conscious of the death of Josiah," she entered the land of the Philistines. Then contemplating with wonder the ruins of Dor, once a powerful city, she proceeded to Tuixis Stratonis, or Caesarea, and there saw the house of Cornelius, " the church of Christ;" and the dwelling-place of Philip, and the chamber of his four daughters that prophesied. She next anived at the half-ruined town of Antipatris ; and Lydda, famous for the resurrection and cure of Dorcas and ^Eneas. Not far from thence she beheld Arimathaea, the city of Joseph, who bipied the Lord ; and Nob, fonnerly a city of the priests, now the tomb of the slain : and Joppa, and Nicopolis, before caUed Emmaus ; and going up from thence, she came to Bethoron, the upper and lower, cities founded by Solomon, but ruined by wars and revolutions. To the right of these towns, she saw Ajalon, and Gibeon, and Gibea ; and proceeding on her course, she passed the ruined tomb of Helena on the left, and then entered Jerusalem, " that city of three names, Jebus, Salem, and Jerusalem, and for some time, when restored by Hadrian, known as ^ha." Paula, on entering the holy city, was in\'ited by the proconsul, who was well acquainted with her family, to occupy a residence proper to her rank and fortime. But she desired to exercise those virtues of humility and patience, without which there could have been no harmony between her feelings and the scenes which she came to contemplate. She therefore refused the offers made her of a hospitable reception ; and retired to a little ceU, as the proper abode of a Christian pilgrim. From this retreat she visited Calvary, and the sepulchre of the Lord, kissing, it is said, the stone which the angels had removed on the morning of the resurrection, and the spot on which the body of the Lord was laid. " And she ascended Mount Zion, of the overtlu-owu city on which it was said, ' Woe, woe to Ariel,' but of that built up, ' The Lord ioveth the gates of Zion, mcfre than all the dwellings of Jacob.' Nor was this spoken of the gates which are now dust and ashes, but of those gates against wliich hell shall not prevail, and through which the congregation of believers -• •* N xc*! s II THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. 5 go to Christ." The next object which engaged her attention, was, according to this ancient narrative, the column to which Christ was bound while being scourged ; and after contemplating this sad memorial of his liumiliation, she was conducted to the place in which the disciples were assembled when the blessed Spirit descended upon them on the day of Pentecost. There were many poor and distressed objects in Jerusalem at this period. Upon these, wealthy strangers, hke Paula, gladly exercised their Christian charity. Bene- volence formed, in her case, another support to those holy sentiments with which her soul was filled. She felt that she had a nearer union with her Saviour as she ministered to the wants of his poor disciples : that she had a better and higher right to indulge in the sweet and solemn meditations which occupied her mind. From Jerasalem, Paula went to Bethlehem. On the right-hand side of the road she saw the tomb of Rachael. As soon as she entered the town, she proceeded to the cave in which the Saviour was bom, and such was the power, says St. Jerome, which faith exercised on her thoughts, that she seemed reaUy to behold with her eyes the divine infant cradled in the manger ; the adoring magi ; the star shining over the place where he lay; the virgin mother; and the shepherds leaving their folds, which they watched by night, to come and worship the new-bom king. The sentiments which inspired such persons as Paula, gained strength through seve- ral succeeding ages. Their growth was intimately connected with two very different classes of feeling. In the one case, pure devotion to the Saviour wrought upon the heart, and urged the pilgrim to seek the Holy Land as a mere manifestation of love and thankiiilness. But in the other case, a notion was cherished that something like merit — compensating for sin — belonged to an undertaking so fraught with difficulty as a journey to Syria. Hence many who either painfully doubted their own peni- tence, their own readiness to become sincere disciples of the Saviour, or who could not but confess an actual resistance to what is most spiritual in his gospel, gladly availed themselves of the means which a pilgrimage seemed to offer to supply their confessed deficiencies. As soon as this idea began to take possession of men's minds, the number of pilgrims increased every year. It was no longer the simple worshipper, the humble, adoring believer only, who sought the shrine in Gethsemane or Bethlehem. As various motives operated to induce the penitent to seek relief to his conscience in this, or that exercise of humiliation, so did the train of pilgrims who appeared at the gates of Jerusalem present many various shades of character. Men long accustomed to a life of worldly toil or pleasure were seen prostrate before the cross. Their companions were inquiring scholais, priests, and monks. 'Wlien they rose, each took a different path, some, their consciences being satisfied with the mere act of worsliip which had been performed, or with the penance which had been endured, hastened back to their native land ; others fonncd fi-atemities and built monasteries : while some traversed, with restless but devout curiosity, the length ajid breadth of the land, listening intently to every whisper of tradition, and employ- c 6 THE CHKlSTtlS Ht PALESTIVE. ing such powers of obseirarion as ihey might possess in detennining the claim of this or that locality to the homage which it received. Thus Palestine giadnaDr became the common resort of those whose minds, whether for a tone, or pennanently, experienced the mightier impulses of religions conviction. Of those who returned home, few would fail to speak of the impressions made upon them when they wept, bowed down with melancholy thought, in Geth- semane ; or when they raised their eyes to heaven on the moimt of transfiguration, or in Bethany. To a fervent, devout spirit, nothing could be so stimulating as such representations. Even in the case of ordinary inquirers, a land like Palestine most have been like a rich and curious volume, eveiy page of which contained something deserving thonghtftil consideration. The feelings which impelled so many to visit the Holy Land, led others, who could not undertake the journey, to seek some share of the pUgrim's merit, by sympathising with bini in all his anxieties and triumphs. Hence before he set out from his home, the parish priest solemnly invested him with the pilgrim's garb, and put into his hand the staff which was to support his weary steps, and which had been consecrated by prayer. The people of the parish assembling, to join their blessings to those of the priest, accomp>anied him on the first stage of his journey, and then bade him fareweD, as one who, according to the emotions which they then felt, was about to trace the visible footsteps of the adorable Saviour. If he returned, similar expres- sions of honour and thanktulness were employed, to indicate the sentiments enter- tained respecting a devout pilgrimage. The pahn-branch which he brought with him from the valleys which had breathed a divine blessing was contemplated with holv wonder, and then laid upon the altar. It was a token of the pilgrim's success. It was also a sign that could be fek and understood of the actual existence and reahty of those scenes amid which the Son of God laboured and suffered for the salvation of the world. Gladly, however, as religions communities beheld some one or other of their members preparing to represent them, as it were, in the city of the Lord ; to gather information for them as to the existing character of the places so familiar to them in name, — such was the rapidity with which the passion for pilgrimages to the Holy Land increased, that even before the close of the fifth century, fears began to be entertained respecting the general result of the movements with which it was con- nected. Some of the most eminent Christian teachers saw with alarm, that both discipline and morals were perilled by the hberty naturally accorded to the wanderer in his long and adventurous journey. The simple duties of a rehgious life seemed cast into the shade by the glare of his supposed heroism and exalted devotion ; and real penitence and faith were in danger of being altogether set aside, for the mere factitious sentimenu of an excited fancy. But notwithstanding the cautions view taken of the subject by the more thoughtful of the clergy, the desire of visiting the Holy Land continued to gain a stronger hold THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. 7 of the popular mind. The veDeration entertained for the relics of saints and mar- tyrs, and, still more, for any which might be supposed to exist of the Saviour him- self, was a powerfid element in the religious character of the times. Palestine offered a rich held to the enterprising inquirer alter such memorials. It had long been confidently beheved that the wood of the true cross, and other instruments of the crucifixion, still existed. An impulse was thus given to the researches of the curious and the devout. It is far firom impossible that many reUcs might be found which had a rightful claim to be regarded as genuine. But in numberless cases, mis- taken zeal, a fervent imagination, and in some instances, vanity and avarice, induced those who had travelled to the Holy Land with this object in view, to stamp everr- thing with the character of a rehc which conjecture, or idle tradition, could represent imder that form. Neither the people, nor the clergy, cared to inquire too strictly into the matter. A deep, intense deUght was experienced in the contemplation of objects which were said to have borne a part, however mean or doubtful, in aught that concerned the Saviour, the apostles, or evangelists. It was the sentiment, the feeling itself^ thus excited, which became the reaUty ; and by a species of self- deception, often consciously indulged, many assigned a value to the rehc which only properly belonged to their own fervent affection for whatever they beheved to be divine. The intercom^e with Palestine was thus commenced, and for some generations carried on only by travellers, whose reasons for making the journey were whoUy derived from their faith. But as the spirit of commerce advanced in power and grandeur, a new set of motives was created for penetrating into the provinces of Syria, and the remoter East. The ports of the Mediterranean sent forth numerous fleets of mer- chantmen, bound to Alexandria, Beyrout, or more distant emporiums of Oriental trade. In these places the European adventurer met with natives from countries, the names of which had hitherto been connected with the wildest fables. As they talked with each other of the lands in which they had been bom, their famihar words seemed to render the road between their several provinces wider and smoother. The desire of gain now mingled itself with the stimulating love of novelty and adven- ture. A voyage from Marseilles to Alexandria was easily accomphshed, and of those who landed on the shores of -Egypt or Syria, some were always to be found who could not resistthe desire to penetrate into the interior of those countries of miracle and tradition. Had affairs continued in this state, Jerusalem and the siurounding districts would soon have been peopled by Christians from all the great European provinces. But in the early part of the seventh centiu^-, a power, mightier than that of any dominion in either East or West then existing, was estabUshed as the scourge of Christendom. Mahomet claimed Jerusalem no less than Mecca or Medina. His followers did not lower their pretensions ; and when the great and victorious Omar took possession ot the sacred city, in the year 637, he pronoimced it holy, as the scene of events no 8 THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. less dear to the disciples of Mahomet, than to the Jew and the Christian. In the conditions wliich he offered to the venerable patriarch, Sophronius, he gave full per- mission to the disciples of Christ to obsen-e the rites prescribed to them in the gospel. They were allowed to assemble in their churches ; to preach and pray. But they were not to form pubUc processions ; to ring the church bells, except in so far as was necessary to give notice of service ; or to make exhibition of the cross. The tolerant spuit of the conquerors soon yielded to the temptations which pride and success created. Christians in Palestine had hitherto felt that amid the memo- rials of their Saviour's love they were as free from earthly, as they hoped to become from spiritual enemies. But now tyranny and oppression met them at every step. They saw the crescent, like a baleful meteor, hanging over their holy places. As they worshipped and trembled before the cross, threats and insults of every kind met their ear ; and they were driven from the Holy Sepulchre, and from Zion, as if they were themselves polluting the very spots which they regai-ded with so intense a feeling of delight and awe. Under the splendid rule of the famous Haroun al Raschid, Christian pilgrims were spared the indignities to which they had been subjected during the preceding age. The power of Charlemagne also contributed to render the journey to Palestine far easier and safer ; and the generous spirit which animated the two monarchs, seemed proudly to reject the notion of acquiring dominion by religious oppression. For more than a hundred years did this favourable state of things continue ; and during that period the poorest as well as the wealthiest and most enlightened provinces of Europe sent forth pilgiims to pray for them, and collect rehcs, in the Holy Land. Charlemagne, it is said, established an extensive institution in Jerusalem for the reception of travellers from the West. If they were poor, their wants were amply provided for in this hospitable asylum. On their appearance at the gate, one of the brethren residing in the house came forward, and bearing a small cross in his hand bade them welcome, and pointed out some little quiet apartment ready for their reception. This institution appears to have increased with the increasing number of travellers. Hence the hospice of the Latin pilgiims consisted, before the end of tlie tenth century, of twelve houses ; and possessed noble vineyards and gardens, stretching along the beautifiil vale of Jehoshaphat. A still higher notion is given of the character of this institution by the fact, that a hbrary was added to its other accommodations, and that the collection which it contained was open at all times for the comfort and edification of the numerous strangers in Jerusalem. Thus the momentary check given to the enthusiasm of those who desired to visit the birth-place of their religion, was almost wholly removed. The clergy partook of the general curiosity as well as devotion ; and bishops are said to have left their dioceses for years, in order to perform what was now considered a higher duty than any which belonged to the common offices of either social or religious life. Exer- THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. 9 cises connected with Christian penitence, and which by their ver}' nature and inten- tion ought to have been performed in retirement, were now the nominal occupation of men who passed every day in the excitement of travel ; in encountering some new awakening difficulty, or in the enjoyment of some agreeable novelty. The very character of religious humiUty was altered thereby ; and many a pilgrim returned from Jerusalem with a quicker sense of the delights of the journey, than of the grief and alarm which, bowed under a weight of conscious guUt, he had experienced on setting out. But neither the successors of Aaroun al Raschid, nor those of Charlemagne, par- took of the virtues which characterized those remarkable men. The Christians in Palestine soon felt the change which followed the accession of new rulers. Oppres- sion returned with ignorance and imbecility. Again the Holy Sepulchre was sur- rounded with jealous guards. A tribute was imposed upon every worshipper at the shrine. The very entrance to the holy city could not be passed tOl a certain sum had been paid. Nor did the traveller's difficulties in this respect commence with his approach to the gates of Jerasalem. As soon as he landed on the shores of ^gypt, a certain sum was demanded of him. If properl}' provided with means, he paid the money, and was not exposed to any further interruption. But it was fre- quently the case, that the pilgrim had neither gold nor silver in his purse No mercj' was shown to poverty by the Egyptian emirs. The discovery that a Christian had contemplated passing through their province without paying a tribute, excited profound indignation. Imprisonment was the slightest punishment inflicted ; and the unfortunate traveller was left in irons till some of his wealthier brethren might pass bj', and pay the necessary sum for his dehverance. Tempted by the divisions among the Saracens, the Greek emperor, Nicephorus Phocas, planned an expedition against the richest of their provinces. Antioch soon fell into his hands ; and the people of Constantinople greeted the conqueror with the pompous titles of the Star of the East ; the Scourge of the Infidels. Unhappily for the Christians in Palestine, the fervour and courage of Nicephorus were not supported by any corresponding dispositions on the part of his subjects. The enemy instead of being vanquished, was only stimulated to revenge. Several of the churches in Jerusalem and its neighbourhood were burnt to the ground: and the venerable patriarch perished on the scaffold. Of the soldiers who had been taken prisoners in battle, many were cast into dungeons in Bagdad. Their suffer- ings were as great as those of the Christians in Palestine ; and they contrived to make their complaints heard in Constantinople. Zimisces, the successor of Nice- phorus, was equally animated by pity and ambition. His own subjects, and the inhabitants of Europe at large, ardently sympathised with his generous sentiments. Thus a feeling prevailed no less powerful and general than that which led, two or three generations later, to the commencement of the Crusades. Zimisces led his vast army into the heart of the Saracen's dominions. Even the D 10 THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. calif of Bagdad was compelled to humble himself, and become his tribiitarj-. Da. mascus, aiid other cities, successively yielded to his triumphant progress. Notliing seemed wanting to the permanent conquest of Syria, but the continuance of his eign. To the grief and alarm of those to whom he had given life and freedom, he fell a victim to the base arts of secret enemies. His successors knew not how to secure the advantages which he had gained. Jerusalem, therefore, became the prize of the Fatamite califs ; and its inhabitants had reason to dread that the worst ten-ors of persecution would soon be revived among them. But tliis was not the case. The new rulers had ventured to oppose the other followers of Mahomet, and form a sect of their own. They needed some degree of support; and were, accordingly, rejoiced to find that it would be possible to render the Christijins useful and valorous allies. For some time, therefore, the general condition of the faithfld in Palestine was tranquil and hopefiil. The hospitals recovered their former grandeur : the markets, which had been instituted by the Europeans, were reopened ; and everything ex- hibited some sign of the acti^ty and security which can only exist in an advanced stage of civilization. Had the Fatamite califs continued to feel the vast importance of concihating the several portions of the mixed society over which they presided, this tranquillity would probably have been preserved for many years. But the third in suc- cession, the haughty and canricious Hakem, conceived the most bitter hatred against the Christians. They were accordingly again subjected to a pitiless persecution. Both ^gypt and Syria flowed with the blood of the disciples of Jesus. The attempts made by some of the maritime states of France and Italy to lessen the power of the tyrant, served only to increase his ferocity. Unhappily, he found many in Jerusalem ready to join him in the darkest designs of religious fanaticism. Mercy, truth, and justice were equally set aside to accomplish the overthrow of the gospel, and the ruin of its professors. Thus on one occasion a dead dog was thrown by their ene- mies into the court of the principal mosque. The offence was immediately attributed to them ; and Hakem lost no time in avenging the pretended crime, by the slaughter of many of the most venerated of their body. Had not the generous devotion of a noble-minded young man been ready to deliver them, the persecution would pro- bably have continued till not a Christian was left in Palestine. Hastening to the tribunal, this champion of his people called upon the magistrate to regard him as the sole author of the insmt which had been perpetrated against the sanctity of the mosque. His supposed confession was accepted ; and he at once yielded himself into the hands of the executioner, who had received orders to subject him to the acutest tortures which art and experience could inflict. Tasso has modified and employed this incident, as the foundation of one of the most interesting episodes in the Jerusalem Dehvered. According to his version of the story, the offence con- sisted in the daring plan laid and executed by the Christians to recover some sacred image, which had been removed from their altar to be placed in the shrine of the THE CHUISTIAN IN PALESTINE. 11 infidel. A beautiful Christian girl, on hearing the decree published against her people, proclaimed herself guilty of the crime. She was already bound to the stake, when a youth who had long loved ber, but without telling his love, rushed into the crowd, and pleaded so powerfully against himself, that the judge declared he was satisfied of the guilt of both. Instead, therefore, of fi-eeing Sophronia, the unhappy youth was only permitted to share her sufferings. He was bound to the same stake: and wliile preparations were made for firing the pile, he uttered a sad lament that such should be the fate of lovers so fond and true. Sophronia's fortitude was firmer in the hour of trial. " Far other aspirations, other plaints. Than these, dear friend, the solemn hour should claim : Think what reward God offers to his saints ; Let meek repentance raise a loftier aim. These torturing fires, if suffered in his name, WDl, bland as zephyrs, waft us to the blest. Regard the sun, how beautiful his flame ! How fine a sky invites him to the West . These seem to soothe our pangs, and summon us to rest." " The Pagans, lifting up their voices, wept ; In stifled sorrow wept the Faithful too ; E'en the stern king was touched, — a softness crept O'er his fierce heart, ennobling, pure, and new : He felt, he scorned it, struggled to subdue. And lest his wavering firmness should relent, His eyes averted, and his steps withdrew : Sophronia's spirit only was unbent ; She yet lamented not, for whom all else lament." Suddenly a powerfid champion and intercessor appears. The tjTant grants a firee pardon, and to the joy of the multitude, the intended victims are unbound and set free. " Restored to life and liberty, how blest. How truly blest was young Olindo's fate ! For sweet Sophronia's blushes might attest. That love at length has touched her delicate And generous bosom. From the stake in state They to the altar pass : severely tried, In doom and love already made his mate. She now objects not to become his bride, And grateful live with him who would for her have died." Canto II. Stanzas xxxvi. xxxvii. liii. The persecution which the jealousy or ambition of the Saracen chief had induced him to renew, proved in the end of no shght benefit to the Christian cause. Atten- 12 THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. tion was directed to the state of the East ; and while pious believers in every country of Europe wept over the calamities of their brethren in Jerusalem, powerful mo- narchs felt their spirits stirred with the noble desire of overthrowing a dominion as injurious to civilization as to reUgion and humanity. But the period of danger was that which attracted a number of pilgrims to the holy city, whose hopes of recovering their lost peace of conscience increased with the augmenting perils of the journey. Such was the superstition of the age, that he who now visited Jemsalem was sure of obtainin'' the absolution of the chmxh, whatever his crimes or errors. Thus we are told of a Count of Anjou, who having miu-dered his wife, could find no peace tiU he iourncyed to the Holy Land. Storms pursued him on his way ; and redoubled the terrors of his guilty soul ; the victims of his cruelty appeared armed for his destruc- tion ; and he expected every instant to sink beneath the vengeance of Heaven. At length he reached Jerusalem. The hope of mercy revived ; and he traversed the streets with a rope about his neck, and exclaiming, while calling upon his servants to scourge him, " Lord ! Lord ! have mercy on me ; a wretched and peijui'ed Christian, wandering far fi-om his own land to seek thy pardon." A similar account is given of Frotmont, a nobleman of the duchy of Bretagne, in the time of King Lothaire. He had murdered his uncle, and one of his brothers. Remorse soon followed the commission of the crime ; and Frotmont, assuming the dress of a penitent, presented himself before the king in fall court. By the adrice of liis nobles, and the prelates who surrounded him, Lothaire ordered the offender to be bound with fetters ; and straightway to set out for the Holy Land. We are told that the imhappy man gladly obeyed the command ; and that, after having spent some time at Jerusalem, he journeyed through the most solitary regions of the neighbouring provinces, and returned to Europe in the time of Pope Benedict HI. By that pontiff he was advised to continue his penitential course, by making a second pilgrimage. He yielded to the directions given him ; and having traversed Syria, the shores of the Red Sea, and great part of Armenia, returned to his own country in safety, and with the character of a saint. The rest of his life was passed in a monastery, where, if tradition speak true, he continued to exhibit indisputable proofs of sincere penitence. Among the most celebrated of those whose real or supposed crimes induced them to adopt this method of reconciling themselves to God and society, was Robert Duke of Normandy, the father of William the Conqueror. He set off, accompanied by a numerous retinue, barefooted, and clothed, not in the pui-ple robe of royalty, but in penitential sackcloth. If we may judge of the feelings with which he commenced the journey from the words which he uttered, his penitence must have been deep and earnest. " I set a higher price," he said, " on the pains and sorrows which I suffer for the sake of Jesus Christ, than on the best city in my dominions." Having fallen sick soon after his anival in the East, he was compelled to employ a htter. He would not, however, allow Christians to carry him. Saracens THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. 18 took, in this case, the place of his usual attendants. On the road, he chanced to meet a pilgrim from Normand}-. The man inquired if he coidd convey any message for him. " Yes !" said the dake, " tell my people that you saw on your journey a Christian prince carried to Paradise by devils." Notwithstanding, however, the tone of this expression, Robert exercised his charity in Jcmsalem towards Saracens as well as Christians. His whole conduct and demeanour inspired general admiration; and it is probable that in his case, and in others of a similar kind, a real change of character was produced, not indeed from the merit attending the pilgiimage, but from the influence exercised on the mind by prayer and reflection, and bv an entire separation from those pursuits and indulgences wliich, in a court, are so apt to engender pride and its kindred passions. Robert died on his return, at Nice in Bithynia, expressing with liis last breath the grief which he felt at not having re- mained long enough in Jenisalem to end his days on the spot where his Lord had suffered for the sins of the world. It is worthy of obsen^ation, that, as the time approached for the commencement of the Crusades, pilgrimages began to be made by large bodies of men travelling in company, and presenting both to themselves and others the appearance of a httle army. Thus about twenty years before the first Crusade, a company of seven thousand pilgrims assembled in Germany, and proceeded towards Constantinople. At the head of the party were the archbishop of Mentz, the bishop of Utrecht, the bishop of Ratisbonne, and the bishop of Ramberg. Associated with these dignified ecclesiastics, were knights and barons, and soldiers of everj' degree. The journey to Constantinople was fruitfiil in perils and adventures. But they were encountered with the spirit of lieroism, common to the pUgiims of the age. The dignity of the travellers secured them an honourable reception at the court of the emperor ; and Constantinople displayed all its relics of the early ages of Christianity to delight and animate their hearts with associations proper to their calling. Hitherto the appearance of pilgrims had been in close agreement with their character and pursuits. But a remarkable change was now to be discovered in their garb and manners. The prelates were distinguishable from the meaner pilgrims by the dignity of their bearing, and the reverence with which they were treated by their numerous followers. They were adorned with gold and purple ; and the nobles and warriors, who vied with them in splendour, wore the most costly suits of polished armour, and the gayest ornaments of their order. It was scarcely possible for the people through whose provinces they passed, to believe that they were Christian pilgrims. Hitherto the cowl, the sackcloth, the ashes on the head, the cord about the neck, and the bare feet, were the distinguishing marks of such travellers. When the magnificent cavalcade approached the borders of Syria, the inhabitants of the district counted their numbers, and estimated the value of the booty which was likely to fall into their hands, should they make a successftil attack. At about a league firom Ramlah, a band of Arabs fell upon the company. Among the first E 14 THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. wlio perished was the bishop of Utrecht. A small, ruinous fortification in the desert, furnished the pilgrims with momentary shelter. Their courage bcreased with the danger of their position ; and for a long time they continued to defend themselves against the repeated assaults of the enemy. Desperate were the efforts made by the Arabs to overcome the obstinate heroism of this little Christian band. The conflict continued for several days. At length, the utter want of provisions con- vinced the Christians that they must either yield, or force a passage through the multitude which siuroundcd their wi-etched fortress. With the characteristic courage of their age and country, they were on the point of making the attempt to pass the enemy ; but just as preparations had been made for the sortie, one of the party, a prie.st, came forth, and entreated his brethren to listen to his words. " Your strength," he said, " is broken by famine and long endurance. Let us put oiur trust in God, rather than in our arms. Let us surrender. The barbarians wish for our gold, not for our lives." The ad\ice of the priest was taken. By means of an interpreter, information was conveyed to the Arab cluef that the pilgiims were ready to give up what they pos- sessed, on condition that their lives were spared, and that they were permitted to pursue their journey immolested. The fhief immediately repaired to the intrench- ment, and took with him seventeen of his chosen warriors. Ha\'ing been conducted to the spot where the archbishop of Mentz awaited him, he listened with impatience to the statement of the prelate ; and instantly replied, that he had not fought for three days to receive conditions fi-om the vanquished; and that he and his com- panions had promised themselves to feast on the flesh and blood of those whom they had conquered. So saying, he took his turban from his head, and unfolding it, formed a band, which he insultingly cast like a rope round the neck of the arch- bishop. The prelate was a bold and powerflil man, and with as much of the spirit of a wanior as of a churchman in him. Instantly he sprang upon the chief: felled him to the gi-ound by a blow of his powerfid arm, and bound his hands together, drawing the cord so tight, it is said, that the blood started out of his fingers' ends. A terrible combat ensued. But the Christians having the chief and his companions in their power, placed them in front of their encampment. During the night, a pil- grim made his way to Ramlah. The Saracen governor and inhabitants of that ])lace had as much reason as the Christians to fear the Arabs. A small force was, therefore, immediately despatched to the rehef of the pilgrims. The Arabs could not resist the twofold attack; and the Christians were rewai'ded by the Saracens with the grant of such a guard and supply of necessaries as their present condition demanded. Thus protected, they reached Jerusalem in safety ; and their expedition afforded an example of the passage of large numbers of associates, supplied with those necessaries for the journey to Syria, which might enable them to become at any moment a band of warriors instead of a company of pilgrims. Circumstances of this kuid prepared the way for the Crusades. The road to THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. Ift Jerusalem was noiy well known to those whose devout sentiments gradually asso- ciated themselves with others no less agreeable to the spirit of the age. War was the business and pastime of kings and nobles at this period. When they contem- plated, therefore, the subject state of the Holy Land, and the oppression suffered by their brethren, every principle of their nature was stirred with the indignant desire to take vengeance on the infidel. So long, however, as the journey to Pales- tine presented unknown diflSculties and terrors, the actual idea of war could not enter their minds. The most that the bravest man could do was to encoimter, Uke others, the perils of the way, and weep, as they did, that so holy a possession should be in the hands of unbehevers. But when it was found that thousands after thou- sands could keep together in their long journey through the German states : that they could reach Constantinople in safety, and then pass on into the enemy's country, with some chance of defending themselves by force ; when this was found to be the case, the minds of bold and adventurous men, like the knights and barons of the middle ages, could scarcely fail to conceive the idea of making some effort to deUver that sacred region, to which all devout souls were looking, firom the insulting domination of its present rulers. It was at the time when these feeUngs were beginning to act most powerfiilly on those who had the best means of accomplishing the design, that Peter the Hermit made his appearance, and commenced the task of uniting the several parts of that vast machinery which was necessary to any undertaking of the kind contemplated. The mightiest princes of the age could not have brought sufficient forces into the field to cope with the Saracens in Syria. In vain would the Roman pontiff himself, aided by the choicest of his councillors, have endeavoured to move them to such an enter- prise. Neither money nor troops could have been raised sufficient for so perilous an expedition. It needed that, without which no vast enterprise has ever been attempted with fair prospect of success. It required, that is, the awakening, and the concentration, of the common forces and sympathies of mankind at large. The penetrating miderstanding of Peter the Hermit enabled him to discover that if he could once rouse the great mass of the people in the countries through which he passed, the princes, the pope, and the bishops would find little difficulty in col- lecting both an army and supphes, proportionable even to the gigantic character of a Crusade. The nature of European intercourse with Palestine was greatly altered by the expeditions thus commenced. Had Syria remained under the government of the Saracens, the gradual improvement of that people might have secured to the Chris- tians a sufficient degree of hberty in the Holy Land to enable them to effect the main object which they contemplated Ln seeking the sepulchre of their Saviour. But the Turks were now advancing to the very confines of the eastern empire, and threatened it with desolation. Palestine was already in their possession ; and the 16 THE CHRISTIAN IX PALESTINE. Christians found that however savage their former oppressors, those who now held sway were incomparably more to be dreaded. A singular contrast existed between the character of the Greek emperors and that of the Roman pontiffs. In the fonner, imbecility exposed vhe crown, the dignity, and happiness of the whole empire to ruin: wliile in the latter, energy and ambition kept the affaii-s of the ecclesiastical state in proud and healthy vigour. Hence when the terrified emperor, Michael Ducas, besought the aid of Europe against the infidel, Hildebrand haughtily replied, that he would himself conduct an armament into the East. Preparations were actually made in agreement with this declaration. Fifty thousand brave warriors rose at the call of the pontiff, and were ready to follow him to Asia at the first unfiurling of the banner of the cross. But Hildebrand had other designs to accomphsh. Had he been less anxious respecting the affairs of the church at home, there was that in the ardour of his spirit — in his excited, daring imagination — which would have led him, sooner than any of his cotemporaries, to assail the infidel. The project did not cease to be regarded as practicable on the death of Hilde- brand. His successor, pope Victor, called upon Christians to deliver the Holy Land from its oppressors ; and with the promise that if they obeyed the exhorta- tion they should receive remission of sins. The rich merchants of Pisa and Genoa were among the first to answer the summons. Trae it is, they were also the first to understand how ruinous it would be to the growing trade of Europe, if Syria, and the other provinces of Asia and Africa, should be finally cut off from intercourse with the West. But their piety was at least not inferior to that of others ; and it would be imjust not to accord praise to the zeal which induced them to prepare the magnificent armament which gained so splendid a success against the enemy. Ac- cording to the chroniclers, the troops which they sent out overcame an immense army prepared to receive them ; and having laid waste a great extent of coast, re- turned to Italy laden with a rich booty, and leading with them some thousands of captives. But still no general movement had been made. There was as yet no appearance of a common lising of European Christians. No voice, that is, had gone forth proper to touch the one cord in men's hearts, which, whenever reached, gives the same answer in every case, though tlie appeal should be made to a milUon. Peter the Hermit had leamt the language ; had discovered the secret, by the knowledge of which, one mind, whether for good or evil, acquires such power over others. In the courts of princes ; in the cell of the monk ; before the throne of the haughtiest prelate ; in ihe midst of the rude multitude, he spoke with equal fervour and suc- cess. His words were remembered long after he went his way. Lightly as we may now think of the arguments which he employed ; little as we can now understand how the strongest of religious feelings, the deepest seated principles of human THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. 17 nature, could be excited by a superstitious regard for so remote a country as Pales- tine, in the eleventh century no subject was better fitted to engage popular attention, or to arouse the spirit of a man like Peter the Hermit. Pope Urban, when he assembled the princes of France and Italj-, with their nu- merous retainers and followers at Clermont, found their minds already prepared to obey his exhortations. " It is the will of God," had been pronounced by thousands, long before it became the recognised war-cry of those who now formally assumed the cross. The solemn and impassioned appeals of the Hermit had made everj' Christian feel that, in one way or the other, he was bound to contribute to the deliverance of the Holy Land, and to the safety of those who sought its shores. But the enthusiasm of the multitude left far behind the more thoughtful and calculating devotion of the higher class of crusaders. In some remarkable cases, indeed, political considerations overcame every attempt of the pontiff or his mis- sionaries. Both the Emperor of Germany and the King of France returned evasive answers to the appeals with which they were assailed. Other monarchs, as those of England and Spain, could point to the state of their kingdoms, as affording a suiE- cient reason for their not precipitating themselves into new cares and engagements. But even the sincere and earnest champions of the cross, who could form any proper idea of the real difficulties attending the proposed expedition, saw the necessity of making extensive and careful preparations. Instead, however, of waiting for the appointed time of departure, or submitting themselves to the will of the few expe- rienced chiefs chosen to conduct the expedition, vast multitudes of men, women, and children assembled in Lorraine, and urged Philip the Hermit to conduct them on the route to Palestine. The number of those who thus went forth was greatly lessened by the time they reached the banks of the Danube ; but the place of those who found their courage overcome by the first experience of toil and famine, was soon occupied by other enthusiasts. Unhappily, \iolence and disorder marked their progress. In passing through Germany they attacked the wealthy Jews with unex- ampled ferocity ; and when they arrived in Bulgaria it was found that they must contend with foes of a far more formidable chaiacter, to supply their uumediate wants. The leader of the Germans was Sir Walter of Pereio, who had with him his nephew, a bold adventurous knight, Sir Walter the Pennyless ; poor, as his name betokened, but celebrated for his prowess. On appearing before the walls of Bel- grade, Sir Walter asked of the governor such help as the need of his followers required. His request was insultingly rejected ; and, compelled by the want of food, and every other necessary, he immediately made an attempt to besiege the cit}-. The open country, in the meanwhile, fiunished his people with a temporary supply. But to obtain this, they were driven to plunder the helpless peasantry of their cattle and other possessions ; and thus they excited against them an enemy, imder whose furious attacks jnany thousands of them perished. Sir Walter soon discovered the hopelessness of his position ; and gathering around him the stoutest of his followers, F 18 THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. he retr-ated into the neighbouring foiests, through which he penetrated to Nissa, the capital of the country. The king listened with interest to Sir Walter's account of his expedition, and of the sentiments by which he was inspired. Unlike the governor of Belgrade, he treated him with hospitality ; and gave him guides to con- duct him by the nearest route to Constantinople. The brave knight who had endured so many perils in the early part of the expe- dition, did not live to enjoy the better prospect which thus seemed to open before liim. He died in Bulgaria ; and it is said that the people of the country, as well as his own followers, regarded him as a saint, and his remains as a blessed and sacred deposit. Sir Walter the Pennyless now took the command of the dispirited crusaders. They at length reached Constantinople; and never had pilgrims suffered greater hardships, or encountered more dangerous adventures. Peter the Heniiit commenced his jom-ney soon after the departure of the company headed by Sir Walter of Pereio. In his progress he was joined by two German noblemen and fifteen thousand people of the inferior classes. Before he had passed the boundaries of Germany, his host amounted to forty thousand ; and at the head of this he entered Hungary. . The promise which he gave the king, that no rapine should be committed by the crusaders whom he led, was faithfully observed. But some of the pilgrims having been cruelly treated in the town of Semlin, Peter resolved to avenge them. Several of the bravest of his followers attacked the fortress — took it, and slew a lai'ge portion of the inhabitants. No less than four thousand are said to have been slaughtered on one day. The crasaders obtained the victory with little loss ; and the storehouses of the town furnished them with abundance of provisions, and with luxuries to which they had hitherto been strangers. It can scarcely create surprise that a rude multitude, like that which followed the hermit, should easily v-ield to the temptations by which they were now sun-ounded. Sm'feited with sudden plenty, astonished to find themselves conquerors, and in possession of a noble city, the vision of Jerusalem grew fainter every day. At length news arrived that the King of Hungary was on his mai-ch ; and that he was accompanied by a body of troops sufficient to cut off the crusaders to a man. Peter knew that no time was to be lost ; and rousing his people from their slumber, he conducted them through the woods to Nissa. This place they reached, after a journey of eight days ; and when Peter sent messengers to request pennission of the prince to purchase food, he received a plentiful supply of provisions at a moderate price, and many gifts for the support of the poorer of his followers These circumstances may be taken as illustrative of the sentiments entertained by the princes, through whose provinces the pilgrims and crusaders had to pass, in their way to the Holy Land. But we have distressing proofs of the turbulent character of many of these wanderers ; and one especially, in their conduct when treated so generously by the Governor of Nissa. The very morning after their arrival, a THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. 19 hundred Germans, unknown to Peter, left the camp, and destroyed seven mills, under pretence of revenging some overcharge made by the Bulgarians in selling provisions. Houses were tired by the same party ; and while Peter was quietly pursuing his way with the main body of his followers, the inhabitants were calling aloud to the prince to defend them from the barbarians. The cry was attended to ; and the prince, hastily assembUng a troop of horsemen, took the road along which the hermit was journeying, unsuspicious of danger. As little order was observed in the march, several of the pilgrims were found separated from the rest of the company, and immediately fell beneath the swords of the pursuers. But not satisfied with this, the prince continued his course, and eventually many hundreds of the wretched travellers were pierced through by the spears, or trampled down by the horses of the enemy. Peter on the instant resolved to return to Nissa, and justify himself from the charge brought against him through the foUy or wickedness of his companions. But his hopes in this respect were frustrated by the madness of the multitude. Obeying the impulse of their sudden rage, they attacked the city, and slew many of the helpless inhabitants. For this they suffered due punishment. The Prince of Nissa again put them to flight ; and Peter in the evening saw himself smTounded by only a remnant of his companions. Terrible were the privations suffered by the poor crusaders for some days after this. Ten thousand had perished in the neighbom-hood of Nissa ; but the mixed multitude, as the several divisions became united agtun in one body, was found to amount to thirty thousand persons. With this concoui-se of rude, undisciphned followers, had Peter to make his way through an almost uninhabited country ; woods, and morasses, and an endless variety of rocky passes, rendeiiug the journey one of extreme peril to such a host. The com, now nearly ripe, which they found in some of the more open districts, was the only food they could obtain. At length they beheld in the distance the walls and tower of some strange city. Much as they had suffered from the inhabitants of Nissa, they were thankful for the prospect of better fare than that which the mere fields afforded. Faint and weary as they were, they quickened then march towai'ds the town. Nothing could be more discoinraging than the appearance of its environs ; not a sound was to be heard; not a hving creature could be seen. The gates were open; they entered the place, and found that the inhabitants had forsaken it, leaving not the slightest article of food behind them. Despair seemed ready to seize upon the astonished people when they saw their hopes thus cruelly disappointed. But their leader retained his presence of mind, and enthusiastic determination to fulfil his calling. The encouragement which he gave his followers to look for some speedy improvement in their circumstances, was unexpectedly justified by the arrival of messengers from the Emperor Alexius. They brought him intelligence that then master was ready to afford the pilgrims any assistance in their journey ; the only stipulation being that they should not 20 THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. tany more than tliree days in one place. This precaution, rendered so necessarj by the late proceedings of the crusaders, affords a striking illustration of their character and condition, and of the difficulty attending the progress of such a class of people to the Holy Land. So gi-eat had been Peter's distress at the peiils and sufferings of his followers, that when the emperor's intentions were announced to him, he wept for joy, and knelt down in the presence of his companions to bless God for their wonderful deliverance. Gold and promions, horses, mules, and carriages, met the travellers at the several stations by which they passed. On the first of August they arrived at the encampment near the imperial city, formed shortly before by the brave knight, Sir Walter. Alexius counselled Peter to be satisfied with accompUshing so much of his design as consisted in leading his band to the confines of Syria. The emperor was too well acquainted with the power of the enemy, not to perceive the hopelessness of an attempt to encounter him mth a force like that which was now assembled. He Hstened, it is said, with reverential dehght to the discourse of Peter. He saw in him the elements of a great and vigorous character ; but at the same time, he dis- covered how sadly he had miscalculated the means which he possessed of either meeting the enemy, or controlling the undisciplined multitude wliich professed to obey his orders- In vain, however, did Alexius press his advice on the hermit. He was compelled to obey the passionate demands of his rude host to be led forward without delay. No representations could induce them to wait till the army now assembling, under the leadership of Godfi-ey of Boulogne, should arrive in the East. Finding his efforts useless, the emperor no longer resisted the general feeling, but again supphed the crusaders with the means of pursuing their route. For two months Peter kept his followers comparatively tranquil in the neighbourhood of Helenopolis. A fierce dispute then arose between the French and German divisions of the band. The mischief to be apprehended from this dissension subdued even the bold and hopeflil spuit of the hermit. He intimated the necessity of his revisiting Constantinople for a time ; and left the sole command to Walter. No sooner was Peter gone than a party of the crusaders, chiefly French, hastened to attack Nicaa. They were successfiil ; and the sight of the booty with which they returned, stimulated the Germans to undertake a similar enterprise. This also succeeded ; and the determination was formed of establishing a camp sufficiently strong to resist the reprisals of the enemy till the arrival of the great army from Europe. But the Turkish Sultan, Arslan, had not looked idly on. He sent a troop against the Germans, which overthrew them with a dreadful slaughter. The attempt of the French to avenge their brethren was attended with equal ruin to themselves. They fought long and desperately. But their leaders fell in the hopeless strife ; and only three thousand of the whole multitude escaped the sword of the Turk. This THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. 21 little band fortified itself in an old castle, till Peter, hearing of the calamity which had happened, induced the emperor to send a force for their relief. By this means they were delivered from the destruction which every day awaited them ; and thauk- fiiUy allowed themselves to be led back to Constantinople. Faint and spirit-broken, they now desii^ed notliing so much as to retrace their steps along the weary way which they had so fruitlessly traversed. But they had no resources out of which to supply themselves with the commonest necessaries. At last the happy thought struck them of selling what few arms they possessed to the emperor. Alexius readily purchased the weapons offered him; and the poor crusaders immediately began their jomney homewards. Another attempt to reach the Holy Land, and deliver its Christian inhabitants from their oppressors, was made by a band of fifteen thousand armed men, led by a German priest named Gottschalk. On their arrival in Hungary, the disorderly spirit of many among them began to display itself When the means of enjoying themselves in boisterous revelry were exhausted, they commenced a system of plunder against the inhabitants. The King of Hungary, by a flattering message to Gottschalk, persuaded him to represent to his followers, that if they would pursue their joiumey as simple travellers, and unarmed, benevolence and hospitality would be exercised towards them, instead of revenge. Gottschalk was deceived. No sooner had his people laid down their arms, than a body of troops rushed forth, and slew them almost to a man. A company of French pilgrims succeeded to the ill-fated band conducted by the German priest. The ignorance and licentiousness of this party are said to have been much greater than those of the people led by Peter the Hermit or Gottschalk. They were fanatics of the worst kind. Depending upon their imaginary holiness and heroism, they would have no earthly leader. But their mysticism instructed them to place a goose and a goat at the head of their ranks. The Jews were the first to suffer from this rude multitude, whose fierceness was even greater than their rude- ness. At Cologne and Mayence the attacks upon that unhappy people were charac- terised by almost inconceivable barbarity. When the slaughter in the former place threatened to become general, two hundred of them escaped on board a vessel in the river. But when the murder of their brethren was accomplished, they were dragged back to the city, and there shared the fate of the rest. At Mayence, the good archbishop Rothardt, pitying the condition of the Jews, strove to protect both their lives and property. He ordered their goods to be put into a secure place ; and then invited them to come and seek refuge in the apart- ments of his palace. But even some of his own relations were among those who sought to enrich themselves by the slaughter of the Jews. Aided by them, the travellers to the Holy Land broke down the doors of the archbishop's residence ; and making their way to the rooms in which the Jews were assembled, murdered thpm to the number of seven hundred. At Worms they were offered protection by G 92 THE CHKTSTIAN IN PALESTINE. the bishop, but in a less generous spirit than at Mayence. The profeiTed defence was to be granted on condition that they to whom it was offered should become Christians. Time was required by the Jews to consider the offer. They entered the bishop's hall, and were supposed to be in earnest debate. Their return to the conference was eagerly expected. The appointed hour passed by. A messenger was sent to hasten them. They were all foimd dead, having, it appeared, slaughtered each other by mutual consent. The blood of the poor Jews seemed to cry for vengeance, and when the multitude, which was increased to above two himdred thousand before it reached the borders of Hungary, entered that country, the hour of retribution was at hand. Having arrived before the gates of Messburg, the crusaders were informed that they would not be permitted to pursue their route till they had given a solemn pledge that they would commit no violence on the way. These reasonable demands were treated with contempt. Messburg was besieged by the tumultuous host. Their vast num- ber and fanatical rage made up for the want of discipline. The city was on the point of being entered, when a sudden panic seized the minds of the crusaders ; and without, as it would seem, a reason, they ceased from the attack, and tm-ning from the walls fled precipitately to their encampment. Not a moment was lost by the Hungarians. They saw the confusion of the crusaders, and pursued them with such vigour, that in a few hours nearly the whole were either slain or taken prisoners. Such were the various classes of pilgrims, who, from the age of Constantine, that is, from the beginning of the fourth century to the latter part of the eleventh, con- tinued to traverse the roads from Europe to Palestine. Their success was as various as their characters. Some reached the Holy Land, glowing with a faith and devo- tion which had increased as they continued to journey on. In the fulfilment of their vows, they had experienced the deepest delight of contrite and eaniest souls ; and though, on the one hand, they had obeyed the superstitious influences of a superstitious age, they had, on the other, advanced, personally, in the love of the gospel, and sincere desne to obey the will of the Redeemer. Others there were whose strongest motive for ^asiting the Holy Land was furnished by curiosity, or the love of excitement. Their journeys were not without profit. The stock of general knowledge was increased thereby. An acquaintance with scenes and characters was acquired, which could scarcely have been obtained by other means. Some degree of intercourse between distant provinces was estabhshed ; and this led, as we have seen, in the coiu-se of time, to the facilitating of commercial enterprise, and to other practical results of great importance to advancing civilization. The agitation which attended the preparation for the Crusades ; the tumultuous nassions which were then associated with the religious feeling, interrupted the gra- dual develoument of many a valuable principle, involved in the affectionate reverence entertaijied for the Holy Land by pious and meditative minds. In the expeditions THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. 23 undertaien by those who followed Peter the Hermit and the priest Gottschalk, the only valuable associations were destroyed or overpowered by licentiousness on the one side, and by fear, disappointment, or disgust on the other. Those who escaped with their lives had a storj' to relate far different to that which had so often warmed the hearts of patient listeners, when the pilgrims of earher times returned to their native land. They had to speak indeed of perils, of strange adventure and melan- choly mishaps ; but there was no proper mention of divine manifestations, or of that wonderful experience of the power of faith, in which the true and consecrated pilgrim delighted to find the evidence of his own calling, and the characteristic sign of its worth and dignity. The greater part of the multitude who now went forth, were only greedy adventurers, or ignorant fanatics, incapable almost of thought or in- quiry. Their ill-timed and still worse planned expeditions served to increase the difficulties of a journey to Palestine. Every province through which they passed suffered firom their violence and rapacity. Hence the name of a Christian pilgrim was becoming more odious every day ; and instead of its being regarded, as it once was, in the light of a pledge for the fiilfilment of every duty, it now inspired doubt and alarm ; and men trembled at the approach of such travellers as they would at that of bainditti. A state of things was thus created which might of itself have ruined the hopes of those who only desired to visit in oeacefui secmity the sacred scenes of divine history. When it was determined that every pDgrim should be a soldier, and that no time should be given to the indulgence of holy meditation, till Palestine had become a Christian possession, a change was produced for awhile on the subject of the Holy Land, which left scarcely a trace of the deep and often delicate sentiments which characterised the better class of the earher pilgrims. But greatly as the preparations for the Crusades altered, and, in many respects, deteriorated the tone of feeling which prevailed among the travellers to Palestine, there is much to admire as well as surprise us, in the mighty movement which stirred all Europe at this time, and awakened and employed the best energies of its noblest spirits for the one sole object of protecting those who desired to worship at the Holy Sepulchre ; to ascend the steeps of Calvary or Tabor; to join in spirit the wise men, and the shepherds, giving to the Savioiur the gold and frankincense and myrrh of faithful hearts. When it is considered that the only wish entertained by far the greater number of those who were preparing for the Crusades was this, of opening Palestine as a sanctuary to their fellow-behevers, it is impossible not to feel that the sentiment in itself was grand and elevated; and that if it had been properly directed, it might have led to many results favourable to the highest interests of humanity. It is evident that never had the Holy Land been regarded with more reverence or with a deeper love, than it was at this period. The feeling with which the children of Israel contemplated its hills and valleys, its flowing brooks, and their sacred Jordan, was not more fervent than that with which the inhabitants of France, 24 THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. Italv, Gei-many, and England now in spirit looked towards its shores, and resolved to make for themselves a home in the city of the Great King. Never was a more signal proof given of the power with wliich historical associations work, at particular seasons, upon the great mass of human minds. Not a spot in the whole world was viewed with such feelings as those which now filled the hearts of miUions at the bare mention of Palestine ; and these emotions had their birth and nourishment in those few great incidents of Holy Scripture which have, in later times, been contemplated with every varying degree of religious earnestness, but so rarely in connexion with any peculiar sentiment in regard to Palestine. We may account, in some measure, for the condition of the Holy Land at different periods by watching the rise and decay, and then the revival, of that passionate reverence for its name, which has, from time to time, affected Christians of the most distant countries. I I I -5: ^■ -^ ^ THE ROAD TO JERUSALEM. FKOM TKIPOLI TO ACRE. Before proceeding to describe the changes produced in the state of the Holy Land by the Crusades, and subsequent events, we will take a brief survey of the line of country along which the earliest pilgrims journeyed on their way to Jerusalem. The accomphshed and pious Roman lady, Paula, according to the account given of her pilgrimage by St. Jerome, travelled through the whole of the district, extending from the northernmost part of the land to the capital. It must have been with a solemn feehng that she surveyed the scenery in the neighbour- hood of Tripoh. No part of the country is of a more marked character, or more calculated to dehght a mind disposed to meditation. Alluding to this spot, and to the ruined sepulchres which are scattered about, Shaw remarks * that it " has something in it so extravagant, and so peculiar to itself, that it can never fail to contribute an agreeable mixture of melancholy and dehght to all who pass through it. The uncommon contrast and disposition of woods and sepulchres, rocks and grottoes ; the medley of sounds and echoes from birds and beast, cascades and waterfalls ; the distant roaring of the sea, and the composed solemnity of the whole place, very natiu-ally remind us of those beautiful descriptions which the ancient poets have left us, of the groves and retreats of their rural deities." Almost immediately after leaving this wild and interesting scene, the stranger finds himself on the borders of a wide, extending plain, the aspect of which at once indicates its ancient fertiUty and beauty. As the eye wanders over its noble expanse, that sweetest and grandest of descriptive titles, " the Land of Promise," rises to the mind, and awakens many a lively vision of the past glory of the soU, which the dew of the divine blessing fertilized. Travellers tell us that the ruins of numerous watch-towers lie scattered over the plain. They were erected, it is probable, when the happy times of peace and prosperity were drawing to a close ; and it became necessary to guard more vigilantly the labours of the husbandman against the incursions of the wild borderers of the desert. " The people of the country," says Maundrell, " call this district lunia, that is, the plain, which name they give it by way of eminency, upon account of its vast extent. We were full seven hours in passing it ; and found it all along exceeding • Travels or Observations relating to several Parts of Barbary and the Levant. Tom. ii. p. 268. H 26 THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. fruitful, by reason of the many rivers and the great plenty of water which it enjoys. Of these rivers, the first is about six hours before you come to Tripoli. It has a stone bridge over it, of three large arches ; and is the biggest in the whole plain ; for which reason it goes by the name of Nahor il Kibber, or the Great River. About half-an-hour further, you come to another river, called Nahor Abrosh, or the Leper's River. In three-quarters of an hour more, you pass a third river, called Nahor Acchar, hadng a handsome stone bridge, of one very large arch, laid ever it. Two good hours more bring you to a fourth river, called the Nahor el Berd, or the Cold Waters.* Tliis last-mentioned river is described by Shaw as rising among the northern eminences of Mount Libanus, and as deriving its name from the supphes which it receives from the liquified snows of the mountains.f He also contends that it is identical with the river known in ancient writers as the Eleuthems, and conjectures that in tliis neighbourhood may be fixed the boundary-line between Syria and Phoenicia. The ancient Tripoli was situated upon a low cape, called a peninsula, and enjoyed the advantage of a safe harbour. It owed its origin to the united efforts of the three cities, Aradus, Sidon, and Tyre, and hence its name. The present town is half a league distant from the ancient city, and is said to have long enjoyed a considerable trade, arising both from its own manufactories in silk and cotton, and firom the productions of Aleppo and Damascus. Later travellers % speak well of the present appearance of this place. " When about an hour's distance from TripoU, we passed through some very rich inclosed gardens. Tripoli itself is the greatest town we had seen in Syria, the houses being all well built of stone, and neatly constructed within. It is seated at the foot of the moimtains, at some distance firom the sea-shore, and is surrounded by luxuriant gardens, producing innumerable oranges and lemons." In the seventeenth centurj, Tripoli, according to the accomplished French traveller, d'Arvieux, abounded in signs of wealth and luxury. The fortifications -aised by Godfrey of Bouillon were still tolerably preserved; and the whole city bore the appearance of a place of which the inhabitants had retained no inconsiderable share of the advantages springing from the early intercourse of the East and West. Most of the houses were elegantly built, sjjarkling fountains diffused a refreshing coolness through the apartments ; the mode of living was answerable to the style of building and furniture ; and the inhabitants of Tripoli, says the chevalier, had the manners of people well acquainted with the elegancies of social life. A reason, however, is given for the absence of French residents from this place, * Journey from Aleppo to Jerusalem, p. 24. f p. 2/0. t Irby and Mangles. Travels in Syria, p. 207. THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. 27 which shows that its commercial prosperity rested on a very insecure foundation. Excited by jealousy or avarice, some governor of the city had suddenly seized the French merchants and their goods, and while he appropriated the latter to his own use, he caused the unfortunate merchants to be cast into the wells about the town and left them to perish. The Grand Vizier, it is said, on hearing of the occurrence ordered the wicked governor to be strangled ; but it was a long time before the French could be induced to trust themselves again to so perilous a position.* TripoU, witliin the last few years, measured about two miles in circumference ; and has been ranked as to size and population immediately after Aleppo, Damascus, and Jerusalem. It contains four Christian churches ; that is, two Greek, one Maronite, and one Latin in the con\'ent of the Capuchins, the only Latin order known at Tripoli for many ages, and who were so respected in the time of d'Ar- vieux for their piety and simphcity, that the Tui'ks themselves rendered them offices of charity. There are eleven mosques, one of which is described as a noble specimen of the old Saracenic order ; while the tombs which adorn the extensive cemeteries in the neighbourhood rival in beauty those of Smyrna and Constanti- nople. On leaving TripoU, a narrow valley, with huge dark mountains on the one side, and the rocky shore of a stormy sea on the other, extends to the ancient city of Bostrys, now called Batroun, a httle town containing about a hundred houses ; and fiirther on, to that of Byblus, or Djebail, supposed to be the place refen-ed to in Joshua, and the Book of Kings.t Here the country assumes a softer aspect ; and ancient fable and romance supply traditions which mingle strangely with the sub- lime records of genuine history. The river Adonis stUl rolls its waves amid scenes well calculated to inspire poetic melancholy, and to revive, in imaginative minds, the visions of the old mythology. Numerous villages and well-cultivated lands intervene between this spot and the town of Berytus or Beirout, which stands on a triangular point of the coast, jutting for three or four miles into the Bay of Kesraoun. This celebrated town formed one of the resting-places in Paula's pilgrimage, and was probably visited by most of the earlier travellers in Palestine, not merely because it lay in their road to Jenisalem, but because of its vast importance as a populous and wealthy city. It is doubtftil whether it was a place of any consequence, or whether it even existed in the ancient times of the Jewish nation. The only town spoken of in Scripture as probably identical with Beirout is Berothath. But it was well known to the clas- sical writers, and in the reign of Augustus it rose to the rank of a Roman colony. Favoured by situation and political circumstances, it had become distinguished in the earUest ages of Christianity for its schools of learning. The most accomplished * Memoires dii Chevalier d'Arvieux, p. 38!). t Joshua, xxiii. 5. 1 Kings, v. 18. 28 THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. scholars of the time taught in its academies; and law and philosophy flourished there for centuries after their decUne in other more noted seminaries. In the history of the Christian church, it is celebrated for having matured the genius of some of its noblest champions. Gregory Thaumaturgus prepared himself in its schools for the singular struggles which he endured, in his conflict with heathen power and prejudice ;* and though in a later age Berytus shared the growing dark- ness and superstition, it still occupied a conspicuous station as one of the favoured retreats of Christian learning and piety. The beauty of the country around Beirout, may in great measure account for the notice which it acquired, and for its long-continued prosperity. From the ver- dant hUls which rise in its immediate neighbourhood the view stretches over a plain of vast extent, till it rests on the glistening crags and peaks of Lebanon. In the environs of the town, the plantations of mulberry-trees, the rich orchards and gardens, give an air of luxurious tranquillity to the place, which, without any his- torical associations, might tempt a wanderer in search of peace and nature's sweetest influences, to regard Beirout and its valleys as the best spot he could choose for his home. Happily for this interesting city, and for the Christian travellers of the middle ages, who sought repose within its walls, the crusaders in their first expedition did not encamp before it with hostile intentions. If we may believe the chronicles of the times, they were easily induced, by the offer of the governor to furnish them with suppUes, to leave it unassailed. It was not till ten years after that Beirout had to endure the horrors of a siege. King Baldwin was then obliged to employ the choicest of his troops in the attack, and nearly eleven weeks elapsed before he succeeded in gaining possession of the place. It was several times after this taken and retaken by the Saracens and Christians, till it finally fell into the hands of the infidels at the close of the thirteenth century. The history of Beirout affords an interesting proof of the power of a commercial town, favoured by position and other natural advantages, to rise superior to the worst calamities. In the course of two or three hundred years it was again and again sacked and plundered, its inhabitants put to the sword, and its edifices levelled with the ground. But no sooner were its new masters settled within its walls, than its prosperity returned. Its port was filled with ships from all the trading countries of the East and West. Merchants from the remotest provinces thronged its mart; and the ever-returning glory of its orchards and garden-covered hUls seemed but as an emblem of the life of its commerce and social welfare. Even in modern times Beirout has given evidence of its superiority to most of the other toAvns of Syria. Notwithstanding the evils which have fallen to its lot from war, pestilence, and earthquakes, it stdl occupies a rank among the most important of Eastern marts. Consuls fi-om every quarter of the world are found there ; and • Stebbing's History of Christ's Universal Church, during the Primitive Times. Chap. vi. p. 206. THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. 29 if happier times should come, and Palestine should itself again have a place among nations, Beirout may change its present poor and humble aspect, its ill- paved streets and wretched dweUings, for the magnificence which would become a city which has lived through so many revolutions.* After leaving Beirout, says MaundreU,t we came in one-third of an hour to a large plain extending from the sea to the mountains. At the beginning of the plain is a grove of pine-trees of Faccardini'sl plantation. We guessed it to be more than half-a-mile across ; and so pleasant and inviting was its shade, that it was not with- out some regret we passed it by. Continuing on this plain, we saw at a distance, on our left hand, a small village called Suckfoat. It belongs to the Druses, who possess, at this da}-, a long tract of mountains as far as fi-om Castraven to Carmel. Their present prince is Achmet, grandson to Faccardini, an old man, and one who keeps up the custom of his ancestors of turning day into night: an hereditary prac- tice in his family, proceeding from a traditional persuasion amongst them, that princes can never sleep secui'ely but by day, when men's actions and designs are best observed by their guards, and, il' need be, most easily prevented : but that Ln the night it concerns them to be always vigilant, lest the darkness, aided by their sleeping, should give traitors both opportunity and encouragement to assault their persons, and by a dagger or pistol make them continue their sleep longer than they intended when they lay down. The pine-grove spoken of by Maundi'ell, is said by the Chevalier d'Ar\ie»ix,§ to have conferred upon this neighbourhood a far greater blessing than that of a mere cool and refreshing shade. Before the time when Faccardini planted it, the sur- rounding district was perpetually a prey to pestilence. This was occasioned, it is said, by the dense vapours which were blowii in a mass among the hUls about the town, and which remaining there poisoned the atmosphere. When the pine grove rose to a sufficient height, the progress of the vapoms was interrupted ; and they were dispersed by the rays of the sun, before lodging their pernicious dews among the hills. Faccardini, we are told, regarded Beirout as his pleasure-garden ; and as his sub- jects were happy and prosperous under his government, they followed his example, and employed both their wealth and taste in cultivating the lovely district which they inhabited with more than ordinary care. This state of tilings did not last long, but the neighbourhood has never entirely lost the vestiges of those prosperous days. • The late war has again involved Beirout and the neighbouring cities in ruin ; but hopes are enter- tained that the sources of recovery and improvement are far from being exhausted. t Journey from Aleppo to Jerusalem, p. 43. 1 Faccardini, or Fakhr-ed-Din, was a famous chief, who by his prowess and good policy inatlo Iiim- Belf master of the whole of the district around Beiiout. § Memoires dn Chevalier d'Arvieux. Tom. il. p. 333. 80 THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. About thirty years back, the commerce of Beirout was said to be greater than that of any other port in Syria. In 1815, three vessels anived from Malta, laden with British manufactured goods to the amount of fifty -thousand dollars, and all of which was purchased for ready money within five days after the anival of the ships.* The road out of Benout soon becomes wild and sandy ; but the scenery derives grandeur fi-om the chain of mountains on the East, and interest from the numerous proofs afforded of the fertihty of the surrounding plains, and of the industry of the people. A magnificent ohve-grove, said to be the largest in the country, and numerous groves of mulberry-trees, help to soften the ruggedness of the way, till the pilgrim reach the river Damouras, or, as it was anciently called, the Tamyras. Here again, as in so many other parts of Palestine, the traveller is reminded of some of the most remai-kable incidents in ancisnt history ; for it was on the banks of this stream, that Antiochus the Great met the forces of the Egyptian king Ptolemj^, and gained one of his most important victories. The mountains which thus far serve only to give dignity to the scenery, now cast their deeper shadows over the path of the way- farer. Their roots are beneath his feet ; and the craggy rocks and stonny waves seem to grudge the narrow path which he is traversing. Two or three miles from the town of Seide, or Sidon, the river El-Aoula, crosses the road, and the country assumes an aspect of fertility and cheerfulness. Like most other districts in which the open plain succeeds to mountains and their narrow passes, this offers to the traveller a prospect calculated to inspire new and pleasant hopes ; while the lovely gardens and plantations immediately surrounding the town, serve to prove that the inhabitants and their forefathers have not neglected to take advantage of the bounties which nature showers upon them. Sidon boasts of an antiquity equal to that of any city in the world. It was founded by the son of Canaan immediately after the deluge, and rapidly acqiuied an extent and importance, which remained unimpaired for many ages. In the days of its prosperity, its suburbs reached to the foot of Anti-Libanus ; and merchants from all parts of the world assembled in its marts to exchange the conunodities of their several countries for those of the east. Tyre did not refuse to honour it as the parent of its own grandeur, and the influence which it exercised in all matters connected with the diffusion of luxmy and the arts was universally acknowledged. In the distribution of the land among the tribes of Israel, Sidon fell to the lot of Asher, but the original inhabitants offered effectual resistance to the weak and irresolute assailants. When Nebuchadnezzar invaded Syria, it was one of the first to feel the power of his arms. The wealth which it had been heaping up for * Buckingham : Travels among the Arab Tribes, j). -142. t Josephus Antiq. B. I.e. 12. t Doubdan. Voyage de la Terre Sainte. Paris ICoy. \" \- ^ 5^ ^ N^ THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. 31 ages, the splendour with which it was adorned, the piide of its merchants and princes, all vanished at a single blow of the conqueror's sword. Having recovered, in the course of after years, some semblance of its former prosperity, it was taken by Alexander the Great, who, bj' a sort of noble caprice, was induced to exalt a poor gardener, said to have been of royal extraction, to the office of governor. Our Lord was frequently in the immediate neighbourhood of Sidon, but the idolatry and wickedness of the inhabitants, or rather the particular design of his own personal ministry, would not allow him to enter its gates. Happily for the inhabitants, the word of life was kept from them only for a brief period. St. Paul, on his way to Rome, remained there some days ; and doubtless made known to all who were ready to listen to his preaching, the mysteries of salvation. Sidon, from its situation and its consequent importance, suffered greatly during the wars of the Crusades. St. Louis employed his best efforts to restore its pros- perity. It at length fell into the hands of the Knights Templars, who retained it till the close of the thirteenth century, when they hastily retreated before the power of the Mussulmans. Le Pere Doubdan, who visited this city in the year 1651, describes it as then exhibiting no inconsiderable degree of mercantile activity.* The French merchants carried on a large traffic, he says, in silks and cotton. Merchants from other nations had also their mart there ; and the bazaar, or market, which consisted of several streets, was fiill of little shops, displaying a vast variety of figured stuffs for turbans, slippers, vests, and other garments. Formerly, the harbour was sufficiently commodious to admit vessels of great burden. It has now for ages been so fiUed up with ruins and drifting sands, as to allow only the smaUest boats to approach the town, the merchantmen being obliged to discharge their cargo, while seeking very imperfect shelter behind the huge rocks which line the coast. Surrounding the city and by the side of the sea, says the same traveller, are gardens and plantations abounding in fi-uits of every description, as apricots, oranges, citrons, palms, mulberries, figs, pomegranates, and tamarinds. In the midst of the hfe and beauty of these magnificent gai-dens, he found several remains of ancient bmldings, and among them fragments of columns, which bore traces of Latin inscriptions. Tliis was also the case in his rambles about the little village which bears the same name as the city, and near whicli was the burial-place of the Christians, and the little chapel possessed by the Mai'onites. Sidon, as described by modem travellers, extends for about a mile along the sea-shore, and for about hah'-a-mile up the adjacent hills. An old castle which refers its origin to the time of the Crusades, and another dilapidated edifice of similar character overhanging a ledge of rocks, serve greatly to increase the picturesque effect of a scene in itself striking and interesting. The air of this neighboiirliood is spoken of as peculiarly salubrious ; and the inhabitants, * Voyage de la Terre Sainte. p. 580. 82 THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. computed to amount to betwecD seven and eight thousand, are well supplied with the necessaries of life from the waters of the coast, abounding in fish, and from the richly cultivated plains of Esdraelon and Zabulon. The road from Sidon towards Tyre conducts the traveller over a broad and fruitful plain, still marked by indications of the former presence of Roman armies and magistrates. At the distance of about three hours from Sidon lies the town of Sarphan, occupying some part of the site of Sarepta, venerable for its connexion with the history of Elijah. This city was formerly a place of considerable import- ance, but now consists of only a few poor houses, and the scattered ruins of edifices long levelled with the dust. Tradition points out the spot where the prophet is said to have met the poor widow gathering sticks ; and St. Jerome particulaily mentions Sarepta as one of the places sought by the devout pilgrim. Not far from this town, a wild ridge of rocks afforded in former times a solemn retreat for several monks, whose cells were formed in the holes of the cliff, and amounted in the time of Le Pere Naud to the number of a hmidred. They have the appearance of sepulchres, and probably were so originally ; but by some labour and ingenuity they were connected with each other, and served the purpose of a regular monastery. No situation could be found better calculated to nourish those melancholy feelings with which many of the earlier travellers visited the Holy Land. The darkness of the grave and the terrors of the cross, were both imaged in the narrow cells inhabited by the recluses of these mountains. Between this district and Tyre, runs the river Casimeer, a deep and rapid stream, supposed by some, but erroneously, to be the same with the Eleutherus. Tyre is about an hour's journey from this river; and, according to MaundreU, presents at a distance so striking an appearance, that the traveller forgets for the moment that he is approachmg, not the city whose " merchants were princes," but a poor and wretched town, which has suffered every calamity which war and oppression can inHict. But, according to a later writer, the modem Soor, whether from the sea, from the hills, from the north, or from the south, has nothing to attract attention. The island on which it stands is as low as the isthmus which coimects it with the main land, and like this, all its unoccupied parts present a sandy and barren soil. The monotony of its giey and flat-roofed buildings is reUeved only by the minaret of one mosque with two low domes near it, the ruins of an old christian church, the squaie tower without, the town to the southward, or south-east of it, and a few date-trees scattered here and there among the houses.* The foundations of Tyre, or Soor, its most ancient and its present name, were laid by Tyro, the seventh son of Japhet, and only a year after the deluge. Its position and rapidly increasing wealth, pointed it out to the wisest princes of ' antiquity as well deserving their notice. Thus it is recorded that Phoenix, son of Antenor, and Cadmus, the supposed inventor of letters, expended vast sums * Buckingham, Travels in Palestine, p. 46. ^ ^ § THK CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINK. 33 ill improving both the city and harbour. The very origin of navigation is ascribed to the inhabitants of this place : nor are there wanting indications of its having been the earliest of cities to commence that traflie with other coimtries, to which many nations of the world are indebted for their cinlization, and perhaps even for their existence. Such was the population of Tyre in the time of Alexander the Great, that when he at length overcame the valour of its defenders, after eight thousand men had been slain within the walls, thirty thousand remained as cap- tives. Soon after Tyre became a Christian possession, it was constituted an arch- bishopric ; and embraced within its province the important dioceses of Behout Sidon, Sarepta, and Ptolemais. Tradition points to some ruins on the eastern side of the city as the remains of a chmxh built on the spot where our Lord stood and preached, when the woman ciied out, in the fiihiess of her joy and faith, " Blessed is the womb that bare thee ! " So too it is said, that the " well of hving water," spoken of in the Canticles, may be seen about a league distant from the city, towards the south, in the village of Ras-el-Ain. This well, as described by a traveller* who visited it in the seventeenth century, was very deep, and overflowed with such a copious stream as to turn a mill. Close to the well was a reservoir formed of beautifully-sculptured marble ; and in this the Turks, it is said, perfonned their ablutions, belie^ang in the efficacy of the waters to cleanse them from their sins. Numerous ruins show that this spot was once the favourite retreat of wealth and greatness. Beautiful gardens once covered the whole site ; and the more ima- ginative traveller seems still to hear, as he reads on this spot the song of songs, the plaintive echoes of past dehght. That no part of the inclosure might be without the means of inigation, a noble aqueduct was formed, the finest, it is said, in the East, and by this the waters from Mount Lebanon were conducted to the remotest portion of the grounds. t Tyre itself is situated on an island distant from the main 'and near half-a-mUe. Alexander the Great formed and executed the project of connecting the city with the shore by means of a mole. The waves of the Mediterranean have for countless ages washed the foundations of this ancient emporium of the old world's commerce. But they break harmlessly against them, as if it were specially intended that some relic of the past should here continue to speak of buried greatness. The eloquent Chateaubriand having landed not far ti-om this part of the coast, says, " I spent part of the night in contemplating this sea of Tyre, which is called in Scripture the Great Sea, and which bore the fleets of the royal prophet when they went to fetch the cedars of Lebanon and the purple of Sidon ; that sea, where leviathan leaves traces behind him like abysses ; that sea to which • Eugene Boger: Recollect. Missionare de Barbarie. La Terre Sainte, p. 49. Paris, 1664. t No modern traveller gives credit to the account given by Eugene Roger and others of the origin of the vv'ells at Kas-el-Ain. K 84 THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. the Lord set barriers and gates; that affrighted deep, which beheld God and fled. This was neither the wild ocean of Canada, nor the playful waves of Greece. To the south extended that Egypt, into which the Lord came riding upon a swift cloud, to dry up the channels of the Nile and to overthrow the idols ; to the north was seated that queen of cities whose merchants were princes. ' Howl ye ships of Tarshish, for your strength is laid waste.' " But this was not all. The sea which I contemplated washed the shores of Galilee on my right and the plain of Ascalon on my left. In the former I met with the traditions of the patriarchal life and of the nativity of our Saviour. In the latter I discovered memorials of the Crusades and the shades of the heroes of Jerusalem. It was with reluctance that I withdrew my eyes from that sea which revives so many recollections." Old Tyre stood on the main land, and is the city alluded to in the most ancient records. Pococke, in speaking of the fountains of Solomon, says, " Near the north- east of the great bay, which is south of Tyre, there is a fountain inclosed in the same manner as the others, except that the walls are not so high ; and I saw the foundations and remains of an aqueduct, which appears to have been low, and not to have been built on arches. It probably went to old Tyre, which seems to have been in the comer of the bay ; because near the spring there is a little hill, which, in all probability, is the very mount that Nebuchadnezzar raised in order to take the city, which was destroyed, as described by the prophet Ezekiel, c. xxvi. 7. And I saw a ruin to the south-east of this hill. It is no wonder that there are no signs of the ancient city, since Alexander carried all the remains of it away, in order to join new Tyre to the continent; and as it is a sandy shore the face of everything is altered, and the great aqueduct in many parts is almost buried in the sand." Some doubt is entertained whether the island on which Tyre is built was originally, as is stated, half-a-mile from the main land. " If it was," says Pococke, " it must have been a very small island, and a work of great expense to join it to the continent." The city which the King of Babylon besieged was on the main land. Even then, indeed, the island, it is remarked, must have been inhabited, mention being made of it in Scriptme and elsewhere, as populous in the time of Solomon ; * but the prophecy that Tyre should be built no more, must be understood of the ancient city on the continent. " There are some few remains of the walls all round," says the same writer ; " and of a port on the north side, defended by strong walls. At the east end, also, there are ruins of two great square towers, very strongly built, which seem to have served for reservoirs of water from the aqueduct, in order to distribute it all over the city, for there are foundations of a thick wall from one to the other, which probably are * Isaiah xxiii. 2, 6. Ezek. xxvi. 17- xxvii. 4, 32. xxviii. 2. Joseph. Autiq. riii. 2. THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. 35 remains of the aqueduct. The east of the city appears to have been defended by three walls, and as many fosses. " Within the walls there are great ruins of a very large church, built of hewn stone both within and without, in the Syrian taste, with three naves, each of them ending in a semicircle. There are also very perfect remains of several buildings to the north of it, which probably belonged to the archiepiscopal palace. 1 also saw some granite pillars, which, they say, are the remains of a church dedicated to St. John ; and near it is the ruinous church of St. Thomas, part of which is repaired, and serves as a church for two or three Christian families that are there. Besides these, there are few other inhabitants, except some Janizaries, who live in the castle near the port." But the condition of Tyre has improved since the time of Maundrell and Pococke. In 1815, it contained near eight-hundred substantial stone-built houses, having courts and other conveniences, as well as several smaller habitations for the poor. There were three bazaars, a mosque, and three Christian churches. The population amounted, it is said, at the lowest computation, to between five and eight thousand persons ; and a considerable trade was carried on both with the interior and with the Greek islands.* Some travellers who visited Tyre in 1817 say, " We put up at the house of an Arab, who called himself a Christian archbishop. The establish, ment was a very humble one, as might be expected in so mean a place. The prophecies of the fall of Tyre seem to be fulfilled in the present appearance of Tsour, there being no vestige remaining of the ancient city but mere rubbish. The isthmus which Alexander caused to be made for the prosecution of his attack on the city, has now the appearance of being the work of nature. The port is much choked up with mud. The walls and castle are visible : but I should strongly suspect they are not the same which existed at the time when Tyre was in its glory ."i Dr. Robertson, in his very interesting account of his visit to this city in June, 1838, says, " Tyre has indeed become, like the top of a rock, a place to spread nets upon. The sole remaining tokens of her more ancient splendour lie strewed beneath the waves in the midst of the sea ; and the hovels which now nestle upon a portion of her site, present no contradiction of the dread decree, ' Thou shalt be built no more.' " Again : " The city lies only upon the eastern part of the island. Between the houses and the western shore is a broad strip of open land, now given up to tillage. This shore is strewed from one end to the other, along the edge of the water and in the water, with columns of red and gray granite of various sizes, the only remaining monuments of the splendour of ancient Tyre. At the N. W. point of the island forty or fifty such columns are thi^own together in one heap beneath the waves." Remains of edifices belonging probably to the middle ages are found in other * Buckingham's Travels, p. 47. t Irby and Mangles: Travels in Syria, p. 198. Sf) THE CHRISTIAN IN PALESTINE. parts of the town. But the general appearance of the place must have undergone considerable alteration within the last few years. The houses, for the most part, are abodes of wi-etchedness ; and the population is estimated at less than three thousand. Many are the waiTiors and other distinguished men whose ashes are mingled with the dust of tliis ancient city. The bones of Frederick Barbarossa were deposited in the vaidts of its venerable cathedral. But greater than all the rest whose names are mentioned in connexion with Tyre, was the profound and virtuous Origen, who here ended a life devoted, from beginning to end, to the study of divine truth. The road from Tyre towards Acre carries the traveller by the village of Ras-el-Ain,